Author's Note: I never wanted this. I thought this was a one shot, whole on its own. And it was. But seriously. That last chapter. 451. "It ain't no sin to fall in love with someone"? Can you blame me? Gajeel has so much game.

Mastectomy

Epilogue

She was all brass and steel when she told me. Story slipping from her lips to my ears without even a hello to make it easy. She caught me outside the guild. Ambushed. Me.

Embarrassing.

My first instinct was to laugh at her audacity – big word, learned it from her when we worked together; learned lots working together; not this – but she spoke, and I didn't laugh.

Damaged, she called herself. Flawed. There were things, she told me – here, outside, in the bright light of fucking day! - that most people needed for pleasure that she just couldn't provide.

Suddenly we were having a conversation – one-way conversation – I never expected to have. At least not so fucking soon! And not in the goddamn street!

But where could we have it? At the guild, where so many listening ears would press in on us? Three other slayers with hearing as good as mine. One still a kid. No.

My place.

Her place.

Fuck, no. So I let her talk in the street because, at that moment, the street was empty.

And because, at the end of the talking, I was fairly certain I was going to be offered a chance at a gift. And who didn't like gifts?

Some people, she was still saying, needed softness, and she wasn't soft or sensitive.

My brow furrowed at that. She was very much both of those things. The very essence of those things. Sure, she was brass and steel now, hard with fight and stubbornness, and I liked it. Liked it a lot. But that wasn't all of her. Not even most of her. She was-

She growled. Pulled at her hair.

The fuck?

"I was injured," she said, her eyes forcing contact and making me, me tremble, "and unable to heal. I have very little breast tissue, obviously, and also some nerve damage dulling my sensitivity in that area."

Her face was red. But her spine was still straight. She was nervous. I got that, now. Got the why of it. Her heartbeat was fast, but she stayed tough. She was what she was.

I blinked. Twice. Grabbed her elbow. The street, though still empty, was no longer the place for this. The alley. That was okay. It wasn't as dark as it could be, but shadow would help. I pulled her in, pushing her against the wall.

The words she used. Important to her, because words were. Less important to me, or at least they used to be, but I thought I was better. With words. I could be. I would be.

Damaged. Flawed. As if she wasn't good enough. Ha. That didn't make sense. Not to me. Injured? Scars. Fuck. I owned a mirror. I knew what scars were, and I didn't think they were so bad. They were... symbols of survival. Lessons, sometimes.

There were a few I got on Tenrou. Lessons that taught me just how much I needed her. Wanted her.

Needed her, then. Now. But this wasn't about my need. She thought it was. What she was saying? Like a fucking warning:

Danger this way.

Giving me an out before I got into too deep. Too goddamn late for that. I was in too deep years ago.

No, this had shit to do with my need. This was about hers.

I'd never even kissed her. Too timid, which was bullshit, but true. She was so goddamn perfect sometimes that I was just afraid if I went that far, she'd disappear.

Flawed.

Fucking hell.

In that alley. One minute. Two. I bent down and put my mouth to her ear.

"I'm a monster, Levy, but you share air with me. There ain't no injury that could damage you to me."

I'd never even kissed her. Didn't know what she wanted. Didn't know what she liked. All I had was instinct. Guesses.

If you lose one sense, sometimes others make up for the loss. Loss of sensitivity in her breasts might mean more in her belly, collarbone, and throat.

I'd never even kissed her.

I still wouldn't. Not yet. There was a need here, and it would damn well come first.

With one hand on her hip, keeping her pressed against the wall, I allowed the other to travel the softness of her shoulder Brush over the flimsy ribbon that helped cover what she wanted, what I know she wanted to show me.

I looked at her. At the woman I never kissed. At the woman I never confessed my love to. At the woman who never kissed me. At the woman who never confessed her loved to me.

And I unknotted her dress.

And she let me.

There, in an alley, in the middle of our city, against a wall, protected only by the shadow of my body, she allowed her dress to fall. There was a moment, when the cloth hit the concrete, that she panicked. Lips paled. Heart raced.

Then color brightened her complexion. And her heart slowed.

Mine didn't.

She was calm.

I wasn't.

Her need, I had to keep reminding myself. Shit, that was difficult.

My face; my expression. Sparked something in her. Burned. I saw it. Heard it. Made molten some of that brass and steel. Her breathing sped up; her hands trembled.

"Only thing I need for pleasure," I told her, "is you."

Her heart stopped. Raced. I stepped closer.

"I want you. Here. Now. This wall? Brick. Rough. It'll tear at your back. Then you'll have scars that matter to me, Levy, because they'll be mine. I wanted you yesterday, at the guild. You laughed. With Lucy. Threw your head back," I put a thumb under her chin to tilt her head and expose her throat. "Other side of the room. Didn't fucking matter. I wanted you last year when we were hunting bandits for the Council. I helped you get into a tree for a better view. Better view," I snorted as I looked her over, letting my fingers move from throat to thigh, not touching her chest.

Not yet.

"Almost couldn't let you go when I helped you down. Wanted you seven years ago on the island." I took her hand this time, holding her palm to my cheek. "I pulled you up a cliff ledge. First time I … fucking stupid, but it felt like the first time you put your life, your trust in me. Goddamn, Levy, you can't know what that meant to me. Means to me."

She closed her eyes. They needed to be open.

"Look at me, Levy." She did. The trembling was back. Mine. Hers. Shit. It was an alley. "I wanted you when you tied your hair up, looked straight at me, and said you'd bring down the barrier during Fantasia. When only weeks before... I always wanted you. Always. And you know it. You're not stupid. What I want isn't the problem. What," I asked her, letting go, now; stepping back, now, "do you want?"

"You."

I grinned. "No shit. Got that much. I'm looking for... mmm... specifics. Tell me, Levy. What gives you pleasure?"

She cocked her head to the side in a way that already told me she was going to be a smartass.

"Books."

I ignored her, leaned down, and licked from the middle of her sternum to her left ear. Nearly broke her jaw covering her mouth trying to quiet her surprised response.

Surprised. But pleased.

She shook.

"That's good." I drummed my fingers along her ribs. "How severe is that nerve damage exactly? You tested it?"

She nodded. Her eyes were wide. Her skin was hot. She was sweating.

"With someone else?" I focused on the upper area of her sternum, where the scarring was less and the nerves were probably better, and over to the outer side of her left ribcage. I knew she was ticklish, so I was careful.

Hands, lips, tongue; I touched her, tasted her. I watched her while she shook.

"With someone else, Levy?"

"No," she gasped.

"Only yourself?"

"Yes."

Good.

"Maybe I can do better," I said to her skin as I continued.

She smelled amazing. I wanted to devour her. I wanted to be on my knees. To worship her. And she thought she had to fucking warn me!

HA!

So good.

Her needs.

Her. Needs.

I'd never even kissed her.

So start with that, moron.

I pushed back to look at her, again. And why not. Who wouldn't want to look at her? She needed that, I know, but for me, it was just true. I would, if given a choice, die looking at her. Watching her. I thought I would.

I looked at her.

She was bright red and bold blue. All shiny with sweat that rolled down her shoulders and dripped down the rippling pattern of her chest.

She was as beautiful, in that moment, as she always was.

I kissed her.

I'd almost done it before. A hundred times. More than that. Every time she talked to me. Even when she didn't. Just walked by. Grab her. Pull her in. Kiss her. When we walked together. Sat together.

When I slept.

I never thought she'd be naked the first time. Naked in an alley. Naked; bare. Open. Free.

Flawed. Flawed in such a way that made her real. I thought of kissing her before, but the fear of her vanishing kept me from actually doing it. But I saw her, now.

More than saw. Touched. Tasted. I kissed her, and I knew her.

It wasn't a long kiss. Couldn't be. Otherwise she'd have those brick-scrapes on her back, and I'd feel guilty, no matter what I'd said before.

It wasn't a long kiss, but it was real.

It wasn't a long kiss, but she was soft, and she was sensitive.

I wanted to kiss her again. Almost did, but I pushed her back.

"You hate yourself?"

She smiled for the first time since the ambush. "No."

"Good. Because I love you, and it would be fucking annoying to get in a fight on day one."

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Author's Note 2: As I said in the original … for real, my darlings. Love yourselves. I know so many people complaining about being too pale or too dark, too freckled, too long nose, too wide nose, too short, too tall, too curly hair, too straight hair. Love yourself. People are beautiful.

But, more than that, don't leave it at looks. Take some care with an inner self, as well. Don't hate yourself. Be strong. Don't let someone come along and treat you like shit. Tear you down. I have a friend of a friend, I learned last week... her husband makes her take diet pills because if she gets too fat it will be disrespectful to him! Can you BELIEVE that?! I've seen this woman, first of all, and she is in no way fat, and even if she were FUCK THAT. Talking to your WIFE or ANYONE like that is what I call "disrespectful"! (And to add to it, this woman has two kids... lots of women would like the body she has after two kids, though, again, they shouldn't have to.) And forcing diet pills on someone is BULLSHIT. They are often terrible for you. Cause yo-yo weight gain problems, liver and kidney problems... not that this guy gives the slightest shit.

I don't know this woman. I only know she's a friend of my friend. I know me. I know my friend. I know neither of us would put up with that bullshit. Because we're both very comfortable in ourselves. I know that the friend of a friend is at least as conventionally attractive as my friend, if not more so, but I also know that she was bullied and called fat and dark.

I don't know her story. But I know of other stories that might fit the theme. Other people bullied and who slide into abusive relationships with the first person to hold out a hand, because they feel like they have no value.

YOU HAVE VALUE.

Love is not a sin, to paraphrase Gajeel. And to put my own spin on it, Loving yourself is not a sin. And turning away those who will not love you is not a sin.

You're beautiful, my loves. Have a great week/month/year/life. Long-live Ga/Le.