Hiro Mashima owns Fairy Tail and all corresponding characters. I only own the extra characters and plot.

Like the truly elegant and classy lady she is, Lucy pushes herself out of the chair and twists her neck around while pushing her ass out to get a good look at the explosion of hors d'oeuvres against her backside and legs before swearing at the top of her lungs to strangle whatever idiot would leave uncovered food on a chair.

Capricorn narrows his eyes and shifts them around the ballroom as he feels an ominous wind drift by.

Laxus and Bickslow's eyebrows rise in shock at the sudden language as they stand awkwardly by and watch Lucy continue to curse at her bad luck.

"Uh, Lucy…?" Bickslow gentle says as she throws her hands into the air in exasperation.

"What?" she bites out as she turns on the man with her hands on her hips.

A dollop of cream drops from her skirt and lands with a loud plop onto her boot. A dark cloud descends over Lucy as her eyebrow twitches with infuriation.

Bickslow quickly turns away with a hand over his mouth as scoffs of laughter bleed past his palm.

"Lucy," Laxus says slowly, "you can worry about your ass later. The dead guy is more important."

"Oh, someone will be dead, alright," Lucy swears as she leans back to look at herself again, totally dismissing the older blonde.

Laxus can't help but deadpan as she spins in a circle while trying to look at her splattered butt. He sighs—based upon how this day has been going so far—what will surely not be the last time before reaching out and plopping a large hand onto Lucy's blonde head.

"Eh?" Lucy yelps as she is spun around to face the frowning man.

Laxus rises his other hand and gestures in a flat motion to the cake on his own shirt. "You're not the only one," he tells her blandly without removing his hand from her head.

Staring at the splatter of icing across his purple shirt, an embarrassed blush erupts on her cheeks from her childish behavior moments ago. She tries to glance up but his thick, muscular forearm blocks her view. Her stomach churns pleasurably at the sight of his gorgeous muscles but denial smacks it down and refocuses her mind.

"Yeah," she murmurs as her eyes shift away as another bubble of embarrassment bursts within her chest.

She pushes his hand away, blatantly disregarding the fleeting hope of touching said muscular forearm, and walks around him to the dumbwaiter. Leaning across the edging, she pokes her head and shoulders through the hole to peer down into the darkness.

"Wow, I can't see anything," her voice echoes back as she leans further over in a futile attempt to find the minister. "How far down does this thing go—"

Not surprised by the astounding discovery, Laxus sighs and opens his mouth to tell her about how that has already been established…

…but is distracted by Lucy's curvaceous backside. He leans off to the side to view it in its bodacious entirety as his mind slips into a side room of delusionary, desirable wonder.

Circular hips curve out to a luscious, padded ass. Each smooth edge perfectly accented by the tight material of her skirt so almost nothing is left to the imagination. A gap is set between her thighs and almost makes Laxus drool from imagining himself burying his face between those thighs.

Not while she's covered in food, of course.

Although, that could be kinda kinky…

But what really lights the fire in his veins—especially that one particular vein—is how the edge of her way too short skirt, which he appreciates in every way except for when other men appreciate its lack of length, has hiked up enough for small lumps of her cheeks to peek out in this sadistically teasing yet addictively ample way that makes him want to tear off their clothes and just bang right then and there.

An intrusive and mind-blowing thought squeezes his already blood-lacking brain as he imagines grasping those hips between his palms and grinding his hardened front against the softness of her ass. And then she'll moan uncontrollable and beg him for more and he slowly pulls the skirt up…

Bickslow recovers from his episode in time to turn around and notice a mesmerized Laxus staring unabashedly at Lucy's ass as the oblivious woman goes on and on about the old man and the elevator.

Not sure how to handle this situation but desperately wishing he had a camera to capture the unbelievable moment so he could show this to the everyone at Laxus and Lucy's future wedding, Bickslow does the only thing he think off: he leans over and also stares at her ass.

Bickslow nods slowly in approval as he steps closer for a better view.

Now, Laxus, in his very humble opinion, really shouldn't be blamed for what followed because of several reasons.

One, he was not fully cognitive at the time because he was lost in his sexy-time-in-a-mansion-whilst-on-a-job-at-a-wedding daydream and was therefore not in a logical mindset.

Two, Bickslow is fully aware of his feelings for Lucy and how he wishes to have a relationship with said woman so Bickslow should not have been checking out his woman. Because that will clearly be misinterpreted. Especially during reason one.

Three, the seith mage should also know how protective Laxus is over his things. Since Lucy is the butter to his bread, that obviously includes her. See reason two for further details.

Four, Bickslow had it coming. Because of reason three.

Which is exactly how a hazy-minded Laxus felt when his fist collided with Bickslow's jaw and accidently knocks the man unconscious.

"We don't even know where the entrance to the cellar is loca—BICKSLOW!" Lucy screams in panic as she turns around and sees the man lying face down on the tile floor.

Laxus stands there frozen in confusion with wide eyes and an outstretched fist as Lucy rushes over to Bickslow and begins to ask if he can hear her as she gently tries to shake him awake.

Nervous sweat breaks out along Laxus' brow.

"What happened!?" Lucy demands in bewilderment towards him as she looks between Laxus, his fist, and the Babies who are taking turns slapping Bickslow awake with their bodies.

More sweat.

"Bickslow…was being an idiot?" Laxus offers uncertainly after a moment, dropping his fist.

"So!? He is an idiot!" Lucy states like it's a well-known fact.

"But hot air balloons don't need earthquake insurance, Mr. President…" a stabilizing Bickslow mumbles as his head rolls around.

"See!?"

Laxus frowns down at her. "He's smarter than he acts."

Lucy deadpans at him from the floor. "He once stuck five frozen butter knives to his tongue."

"Only because Erza thought he could only do four," Laxus rebuts immediately.

"Oh…right." Lucy sighs before facepalming and muttering, "I forgot everyone is our guild is an idiot."

"I've been saying that for years," Laxus emphasizes with an eye roll.

"Wha…What happened?" Bickslow sluggishly asks as he sits himself up and rubs his helmet.

"I decked you," Laxus answers as Lucy looks between the two men.

"W-Why would you do that Bos—" Bickslow stops as Laxus scowls at him. Suddenly, the memory of what exactly what he was doing a few minutes ago pops into his brain. "Oh, I remember. Sorry, Boss." Bickslow grins guiltily as he holds his hand up in surrender.

"Huh? What do you mean?" Lucy eagerly asks with a raised brow.

"Nothing, nothing," Bickslow dismisses her with a grin. "It was my bad."

Lucy frowns at him. "If you say so," she says skeptically.

"Let's just get back to the minister," Laxus holds out his hand to the celestial mage.

Lucy blushes as she slips her hand into his, allowing him to pull her to her feet. Laxus looks away in embarrassment after releasing her small, soft hand from his own large, solid one.

Bickslow's grin grows wider as he watches the exchange. Quickly rolling backwards, he positions his hands behind his shoulders and lifts as his feet connect with the ground. Elegantly straightening to a standing position before the two blondes, Bickslow asks, "What are we going to do with the old guy?"

Laxus frowns at the dumbwaiter door in thought. "We could just leave the old man down there until the wedding is over."

Alarm visibly strikes Lucy and she turns on Laxus in a fluster. "W-We can't do that! What if someone finds him!?"

"The guy's body only needs to be hidden for a couple more hours, Lucy. And it's not like there's any staff to go down there anyway so he'll be fine," Bickslow agrees with his leader.

Lucy frowns in uncertainty, not totally sold on the idea.

"Besides," Bickslow's voice shifts to a lighter tone, "a basement is basically a large hole in the ground so it's the perfect place for a dead body."

"That's sick!" Lucy shrieks in disgust.

Bickslow rolls his head to the side in thought before shrugging apathetically and nodding proudly.

"He's got a point though," Laxus confesses, much to Lucy's appalment. "The basement is dark and most likely filled with all kinds of shit so if anyone does bother to go down there then the old man will be hard to find. If we don't leave him down there then someone will have to go down there and since we don't know where the motherfucking entrance is—"

"One of us will have to ride in the dumbwaiter. And we're too big to fit," Bickslow motions with his finger between himself and Laxus.

Lucy looks between the two gazing, towering men with wide, unblinking eyes. "Oh, no…" she feverishly shakes her head and hands in denial before nervously blabbering, "Your guys' plan works for me! No arguments here! No one would ever think of looking in the basement for a dead body!"

Laxus and Bickslow share a knowing look.

However, at the bottom of the dumbwaiter stands a large industrial laundry hamper. A layer of dirty cloths sits at the base with the deceased minister lying on top. Due to all of the sticky cake residue, multiple cloths have become stuck to the body and nearly hide him from view.

None of the mages know this.

The kitchen swinging door quietly opens, no one noticing the new occupant entering room. Matthew is about to politely interject into the conversation between the mages but overhears the nice blonde lady talking in a fluster about a dead man.

"Who's dead, Miss Lucy?" Matthew asks curiously as he taps Lucy on the shoulder.

Bickslow and Lucy jump in surprise with hollers while Laxus snaps his neck forward with a deep scowl. Acting on instinct, Bickslow spins around and slams the dumbwaiter shut with a sharp snap while Lucy circles on Matthew with a stressed glare (of which she has no idea she is doing).

Feeling the atmosphere thicken like three-day old soup, Matthew quickly jumps back with a small shout and shakes his head back in forth in vigorous apology. "I-I'm sorry," he cries in his naturally soft voice. "Y-you don't have to tell me! I shouldn't have been so nosy! Just forget I said anything at all! Unless you don't want me to! I can't force you to do anything you don't want to! I'm just a simple man who loves maple syrup—!"

The mages' shoulders sag as they stare in dumbfounded silence at the blubbering man before them.

"Matthew…" Lucy reaches out with a calming hand, "…Matthew…Matthew!"

Matthew snaps his mouth shut while his body freezes in fear once he feels Lucy's hand land on his shoulders.

"It's okay. I was…" Lucy's voice trails off in desperate thought before she snaps her head around furiously, "just making a joke about how whoever made the bridesmaid's dresses should be a dead man."

A tense moment passes between them before a tiny nervous chuckle slips out. "O-oh," the laughter steadily rising as Matthew's tone and body relaxes. "I-I see. How ironic, all of the other guests are saying the same thing about whoever hired that horrible pink-haired singer."

Lucy's face drops in shock as her skin turns pale and a figurative arrow of insult stabs straight through her heart.

"My cousin said she sounded like badly tuned accordion…"

Another arrow.

"…but more monotone and twice as bad."

A third arrow joins the others. Dejection overtakes her heart as a black cloud appears over her slouching figure.

Matthew's brow crease in worry as he at the stares sulking woman while Laxus frowns in the background with a grinning Bickslow beside him.

"Did I say something?" Matthew asks innocently.

"Nothing that we didn't already know," Bickslow reassures him.

"Why did you come in here anyway?" Laxus asks.

"Oh!" Matthew flinches in realization. "I wanted to ask if you would mind if Mr. Pillajima has some food?" the blond man asks quietly as he holds up his bear.

"My name is Kumajirou!" the bear speaks up as he waves his paw at his owner in irritation. "And who are you!?"

"My name is Matthew," the man responds disappointedly.

Laxus and Bickslow stare at the two in mystified wonder.

"Um," Bickslow starts cautiously, "why can't you have the food in the ballroom?"

Matthew sighs hopelessly. "I tried to get that waiters' attention but he floats right past me like I'm invisible."

Laxus notices Lucy flinch out of the corner of his eye.

"Well, I guess it'll be alright," Bickslow says as he rubs the back of his helmet.

"Just don't touch anything," Laxus adds with a scowl.

Matthew nods hurriedly and thanks the men. Taking a brief peek at the blonde woman, who is now grumbling about troublesome spirits, Matthew wonders if she is talking about poltergeists.

He hopes not. He doesn't like ghosts.

With a nervous shiver, he scurries to the other side of the room where various food bits lay beside the cake. Putting several different kinds of food on a small plate, he places it on Mr. Kumajirou's lap as the bear sits in the floor.

"I'll be right back!" a familiar voice sounds from upstairs.

Lucy snaps to attention and turns around in just enough time to see Anya strolling down the stairs. Matthew looks up to find the bride and wonders to himself if there a rule against the best man seeing the bride or if that is just the groom, tilting his head in confusion.

"Anya, what are you doing down here?" Lucy asks as the bride walks toward her.

"I'm getting Alfred a bandaid," she answers simply as she opens up a nearby cabinet door.

"Why does Alfred need a bandaid?"

A pleasure filled smile crosses Anya's lips and she sighs dreamily. "He accidently poked himself and started crying."

Lucy's eyes widen with worry.

"That sounds like Alfred," Matthew sighs with a shake of his head.

Finally finding what she came down for Anya flounces toward the stairs while saying, "Apparently, Arthur used to tell him horror stories about gangrene. But I don't mind. Alfred's cute when he cries."

Lucy sweatdrops nervously as the bride disappears back up the stairs. "Anya is very strange."

"Dad did always say that about needles," Matthew clarifies as Mr. Kumajirou paws at his small treats. "Although, now that I think about it, it was mainly about knitting needles."

Another sweatdrops appears on Lucy's brow. "Never mind, you're all strange."

"I'll drink to that," Bickslow cheers before chugging an entire glass of champagne he pulled out of nowhere.

"Don't you have something better to do?" Lucy chides as she crosses her arms.

"Not really."

"What about the church?"

"What about it?"

"Are you ready to go?"

"Go where?

"The church!"

"Oh, right. I guess so."

Lucy facepalms as Laxus sighs and rolls his eyes.

"Do you have a napkin?" the bear asks between bites.

"Yeah," Matthew replies as he pulls a fresh linen cloth out of his front coat pocket. Out of the corner of his eye he can see the Lucy continuingly chastising the helmeted man.

As the cloth leaves his pocket Alfred's wedding ring is tugged out. With a small shriek, Matthew fumbles to catch the band in midair, dropping the napkin straight onto Mr. Kumajirou's eyes. Matthew claps both of his hands together and breathes a sigh of relief as he feels the metal between his palms.

"That was a close one Mr. Kimitaro," he sighs as he fingers the ring. "What kind of best man would I be if I lost Alfred's weddin—"

"BRACE!" a loud yell rings out moments before a thunderous boom from the cannon shakes the mansion.

Taken by surprise and his naturally nervous disposition, Matthew accidently flings the ring into the air. It flies up and out of sight as Matthew and Lucy yelp in fright while Laxus and Bickslow look around in alarm.

"What the hell—" Laxus starts.

"GOTT VERDAMMT!" Ludwig shouts as he comes storming in from the ballroom red-faced. "I told those dummkopfs to wait on my command!" he rants as he flings open the back door, marches outside—Killer and Death barking happily at seeing their beloved master—and slams it shut.

"Why do they even have a cannon?" Laxus retorts with a scowl.

"I don't know," Lucy moans. She hums in thought as she notices Matthew on his knees scurrying around on the ground nearby.

"Uh, Matthew, what are you doing?" she asks curiously as she walks over.

He looks up at her with tears pricking his eyes and waves his hands in a fluster. "I lost the wedding ring!" he cries in hysteria.

"EH! What do you mean you lost the ring!?"" Lucy shrieks with wide eyes as she frantically looks around the floor. "How do you lose something that important!?"

"The cannon took me by surprise!" Matthew tries to explain feverishly.

"What's going on here?" Bickslow joins the two.

"Alfred's ring is gone. I accidently dropped it when the cannon went off," Matthew answers as he returns to searching the floorboards.

Bickslow's face drops. "What!?" he yells before he too begins to search for the missing band.

Desperate, time-consuming minutes drag on as Matthew, Lucy, and Bickslow crawl around on their knees with their noses to the floor. Each one scours every nook, cranny, dip, crease, and line but cannot locate the small piece of jewelry anywhere.

Laxus watches the trio with a bemused expression. He honestly doesn't have the faintest idea what they're doing but the idea of crawling around doesn't appeal to his sense of shame. Instead, he spends his time trying to peek at Lucy's underwear when she turns away from him every now and again.

He fails, much to his disappointment.

A loud belch to the side of the trio halts their movements. Matthew, Lucy, and Bickslow slowly swivel their heads around to see Mr. Kumajirou dabbing his mouth with the napkin.

"Those tasted funny," he says casually before noticing the three on the ground, all eye-level with him.

Dread settles over Lucy, Bickslow, and Matthew as their stomachs drop to the floor.

"Oh, no…" Lucy breathes.

"It can't be." Matthew sobs.

"We're screwed." Bickslow huffs.

Lucy quickly crawls forward to grip the bear by its small shoulders. Viciously shaking the mammal, she yells for him to cough it up.

Laxus watches in dumbfounded wonder as Lucy begins some kind of Heimlich maneuver on the polar bear as Matthew flails his arms around screaming for Lucy to stop all the while looking like he's about to cry at any moment and Bickslow sits on the side lines watching the scene unfold with a deep cringe.

"What's going on?" Laxus asks as he suddenly appears behind Bickslow.

Bickslow tilts his head backwards to look at his leader upside down. "The bear ate the ring," he tells him matter-of-factly.

Laxus' face and shoulders drop. "Of course, he has…"

Tossing the bear down, Lucy spins on Matthew. "You have to go find a vet! There has to be one nearby!"

"I-I think there's one in town," a flustered Matthew stammers with fast nods of his head.

"Good! Bickslow!" Lucy shouts at her comrade to garner the helmeted man's attention. "Take Matthew to the vet! And hurry!"

Bickslow tits his head back to look at Laxus once more. The blonde man sighs and tells him to go take care of it. With a brief nod to his leader, Bickslow is on his feet and pulling Matthew to his own. Tucking the polar bear under his arm, Bickslow begins to drag a stumbling Matthew toward the back doors.

"Oh, and Bickslow?" Lucy calls out.

The two men and a half turn back to look at the woman on the floor.

"When you're done with the vet, make sure you go pick up that other thing before heading to the church."

Confusion spreads across their faces. "What thing?" Bickslow asks.

"You know," Lucy urges in a suggestive tone. "The thing," she continues as she nods with her head toward the appetizer table with the destroyed cake underneath it.

Bickslow looks between the table and Lucy. "Silverware?"

Laxus close his eyes and momentarily wonders if he should get Bickslow's brain checked for dents.

Lucy sighs audibly through her nose. "No," she says slowly, trying to remain calm. "The thing underneath the silverware."

"A tablecloth?" Matthew—who has no idea what is going on but wants to be helpful—suggests.

Lucy feels her eyebrow twitch. "No," her tone becoming even more impatient. "The thing underneath the tablecloth!"

"A table." Mr. Kumajirou confidently tells his perplexed owner and the even more mystified mage holding him.

Fierce irritation swells within her, making her hands ball into fists and her lips press into a firm line. "Bickslow," Lucy's voice drips with warning through gritted teeth, "go get a thing to replace the thing you shoved under the table!"

Realization dawns on Bickslow as he finally remembers the cake. He tells her that he'll go pick one up with a grin, earning a exasperated frown from the busty woman.

Matthew looks between the mages in confusion. But that feeling is quickly turned into terror as Bickslow yanks the poor man through the back door and whisks them away while riding the babies toward town as Matthew dangles in the open air.

Laxus shuts the door as Matthew begins to scream in vain that that he's not good with heights.

Lucy hoists herself up with a sigh. "How do you put up with him on a daily basis?" she asks the older blonde.

"With practice."

Lucy looks up at the clock and gasps. Everyone will be leaving soon for the wedding and she has no idea how Freed and Ever are doing.

The swinging doors open with a bang as Virgo speed walks inside. "Quick," she says in a flat yet urgent tone, "I need a blindfold and three cleavers."

"What? Why?" Lucy asks worriedly.

"My show," Virgo explains as she grabs three knives and a strip of fabric.

"I-It's okay Virgo, you don't need to do that. It's almost time for the wedding—"

"Nonsense! It is my big finish and I must see it through!" Virgo declares with stars in her eyes before exiting as quickly as she came.

"How do you put up with her on a daily basis?" Laxus echoes her own words.

Lucy sighs and face palms. "Right now, we have bigger concerns. We have to find out what is happening with Freed and Ever—"

"No, no, no! I'm not listening!" Gilbert singsongs with his hands over his ears as he marches through the swinging doors with Freed on his heels.

Lucy does a double take as she realizes that Freed has somehow lost his scarlet coat.

"Gilbert, please!" a frazzled Freed insists, grabbing the albino by the shoulder. "You're a priest. I'm a mage. We're both professionals. We both want to help people. And your niece needs help!"

"Then you help her! I'm not going near that alter!" Gilbert rebuts wholeheartedly before traipsing further into the kitchen.

Freed's hands clench in frustration and his eyes narrow menacingly. "Don't make me curse you!"

A wild grin spreads across Gilbert's face. Grabbing a nearby butter knife—with butter still on it—he swivels his body around toward Freed to land in a fencing stance.

"Uncle Gilbert!" Lucy gasps in shock at the display.

"On guard!" Gilbert yells as he flicks his wrist dramatically.

Butter slips from the knife, sails through the air, and splatters across Laxus' shirt.

Lucy's hand flies to her mouth while her eyes go wide as Laxus slowly looks down at the new addition across his already food crusted shirt.

"Covering my cherished comrade in churned, coagulated cream!? Certainly not!" Freed declares as he draws his rapier with ferocity.

"Freed!" Lucy barks across the room as she tries to wipe Laxus' chest off with a napkin while trying not to imagine herself touching those broad, muscular, toned, strong pecs.

And Laxus is trying to keep his heart from bursting out of his ribcage as those soft, delicate hands he wants to hold so dearly brush are so very close to the hot skin of his chest.

Sweat drips down Gilbert's brow but he refuses to show any hesitation. "Yours might be bigger," he voices with brash confidence. "But I have pierced many a man!"

The mages pause in thought before looking at the man curiously and cautiously, Freed temporarily dropping his guard in surprise.

"Aha! On guard!" Gilbert yells before leaping toward Freed with gusto.

A clink of metal striking metal rings through the air as Freed barely manages to pull his rapier to a vertical stance and block Gilbert's attack. Remembering his life-long training—and how much the man has annoyed him in the past hour—Freed jumps backwards while flinging his arm to the side, casting Gilbert backwards while simultaneously putting distance between them. The white-haired man lands unsteadily but remains standing. With a loud yell, Gilbert sprints forward with the blunt knife. As Gilbert moves into a straight lunge, Freed deftly throws himself around the appetizer table in time to watch the other man pierce still air. Swinging the rapier through the air, Gilbert has just enough time to duck as the sword passes by with a swip. Hissing that he missed him, Gilbert slashes through the air to meet Freed's sword once more. Nimble feet on both men cause them to maneuver themselves so they may have an advantage over the other.

This causes them to endlessly circle the table while slicing and swiping at the appetizers and each other.

"Stop it you two!" Lucy screams at the two men in vain while Laxus watches on in amazement.

Don't bring Freed to a church, Laxus notes internally.

"How do you like food on your clothes!?" Freed demands and flings a layer of cheese sauce toward Gilbert's chest from the far side of the table but accidently (or not, depending on who's telling the story) slashes it across his eyes. The man reels back toward the cake table, dropping the butter knife to the floor with a resounding clank, and desperately tries to wipes the savory spread from his face.

"Alright, that's enough!" Lucy yells and marches over to Freed. Laxus brings himself out of his reverie to go help the Father. Which is merely Laxus slapping a rag over Gilbert's eyes and letting the older man scrub himself whilst Laxus holds the guy still by gripping the back of his collar.

As Freed attempts to guarantee his near victory, Lucy grabs the wrist holding the rapier and stops him from going around the table.

"Let go!" Freed demands as he tries to tug himself out of her grasp.

"Stop it, Freed! This isn't how you convince someone to perform a wedding!" Lucy argues as he pulls himself out of her grasps but she quickly grabs back onto him, preventing him from circling the table.

Freed momentarily stops to scowl at his blonde teammate. But then feels his ire skyrocket once more when he hears Gilbert call from across the room, "Hah! You couldn't make me perform the wedding even if you knew how to do a proper riposte!"

"How dare you!" Freed seethes comically. Driven by emotion, Freed's logical mind rationalizes that in order to get to Gilbert he has three options: to the left, to the right, and straight.

And since Lucy won't let him move to either side that leaves only one option…

Planting his hands on the table Freed pushes himself forward, a knee slipping between his palms.

"Freed! H-Hold on!" Lucy tells the rune mage as she quickly grabs onto his midsection from the side.

"Don't try to stop me, Lucy!" Freed commands as he lifts the other knee and lands a foot onto the tabletop.

"Wait! You're going to—!" Lucy's voice rises several octaves as her grip remains firm as Freed pushes upwards and forwards to step across the tabletop. Harmless fruits, meats, sauces, bits of leftover food, creams, vegetables, chocolates, nuts, and various liquids lay across the table on plates and in bowls until Lucy is dragged through them, spewing and splattering their contents all over her frontside. Scrapping of dishes crashes around her as food is smashed into her face and down her clothes.

As Freed reaches the edge he hops down with agile elegance. Lucy's body plops down onto the table as her arms release their hold on Freed.

"I'll show you a proper riposte!" Freed tells Gilbert confidently as he continues his oblivious march across the kitchen now that he has overcome the harrowing obstacle of the hors d'oeuvre table.

Laxus turns around at Freed's voice to tell him to calm down but is brought to a shocked silence as his eyes take in the women he loves in the background. Splayed across the appetizer table, Lucy lays face down; her arms dangling at the elbows over the edge, food smashed around her body, plates and bowls heaved and churned beside her, the tablecloth bunched and scrunched, and golden hair coated in who knows what.

Laxus doesn't know if he should punch Freed or hug him.

A part of him is brimming with anger at how one of his most trusted and loyal companions, who is aware of his feelings regarding the voluptuous blonde woman and therefore understands how protective and awkward he is going to be towards her, literally just dragged that same woman through a table of food just to a hit a man for being annoying.

On the other hand, however, Laxus is grateful towards his friend because now he gets to witness, firsthand, how the woman he physically desires is coated in delicious food. And to have a real image to remember when he fantasizes about licking and sucking tasty, delightful food off of her sweet, luscious body while she moans uncontrollably for him sends an unstoppable tide of shivers down every fiber.

Briefly looking up at his leader in passing, Freed halts his march when he sees his beloved leader's flabbergasted face. With a questioning hum, Freed turns around to where Laxus is staring and feels his stomach plummet past his food covered boots.

It was at this moment that Freed began to think about who can replace him as the leader of the Thunder Legion. Because Lucy is going to kill him. And if she doesn't then he'll do it himself to spare his mighty leader the shame.

Feeling Gilbert fidget as he tries to wring himself out of Laxus' grasp barely registers in Laxus' mind as he watches with wide, comical eyes and a dropped jaw as Lucy raises her head. Puckering her lips, a red bump forms between the muscles before growing larger and more defined as it is forced from her mouth and expelled with a spit to reveal a piece of strawberry. Smacking her lips, Lucy's eyes crack open while being caked with food to glare at the green-haired man.

"I'm going to get you for this, Freed," she tells him menacingly.

Freed looks away with sweat pouring down his brow, wondering if he'll be alive long enough to hold interviews for his replacement.

"I wish," Lucy says in an irritated, incensed tone as she wipes the food out of her eyes and off her cheeks, "we just left Uncle Gilbert drunk so none of this would have ever happened."

Freed snaps his head up at the same moment Laxus' first brain clicks on again. They turn to one another, instantly seeing the same idea floating in each other's eyes.

Looking backwards, they see Gilbert trying to swing at Laxus as he tries fruitlessly to release the stronger man's grip from the back of his collar.

"Of course," Freed breathes. "It's so simple."

"Hold on," Laxus halts the green-haired man. "I'll take care of him. I need a drink anyway (a very, very cold one for his very, very hot blood). You go help Lucy."

"Of course, Laxus," Freed nods strongly.

Hauling the albino man toward the small table near the stairs, Laxus grabs two bottles of champagne along the way. Gilbert yelps in surprise and demands to know what the big guy is planning to do with him as he is thrown into a chair.

"We're gonna have a drinking contest. Right now," Laxus tells him as he slams the bottle between them.

A spark of joy lights within his ruby eyes. "Hehehe! That's more like it!" he cackles/hisses with a cheer. "I am the master of drinking! I once conquered Das Boot in under a minute!"

Laxus blinks at him with an unimpressed scowl. The blonde man has no idea what a "Das Boot" is but the idea of drinking out of someone's shoe does not sound appealing. Whether he is drunk or not. He can't help the large sigh that escapes him as he sits himself down and pours two glasses of the bubbly alcohol.

"Miss Lucy," Freed calls out to her worriedly as he gently grips one of her arms. "I deeply apologize for the trouble I have caused you."

Lucy sighs. She allows Freed to help her to her hands and knees, only slipping twice on the slippery tabletop, and slowly help her to her feet.

"Just, next time," she tells him as she tries wipe off as much residue as she can, "go around the food."

"If any time in the future I witness petite portions of food, I shall think of your wise words."

One of the swinging doors open as Capricorn walks backwards into the kitchen while announcing, "Miss Lucy, Virgo is helping the guests into the carriages. I suggest you be ready to depa—Miss Lucy!" he stops dead in the doorway as his shades-covered eyes land on his Master.

Freed and Lucy swivel their heads.

"There is food all over your clothes!"

Lucy deadpans. Freed turns away with a shadow of shame over his face.

"Yes, thank you, Capricorn," Lucy grumbles. "I hadn't noticed."

"You should really be more careful. As a lady of noble heritage, it is your duty to be presentable at all times because you must make a good impression upon strangers. In addition, you must concern yourself with—"

Capricorn's key is held at arm's length as Lucy forces his gate closed. Annoyance seeps off of her as the tick on her forehead pulses. Replacing the golden metal, Lucy sighs and rubs at her eyes tiredly. This day just keeps getting longer and longer…

Freed looks across the room to witness an unimpressed Laxus—an empty bottle next to him and looking incredibly disappointed that he is unfortunately quite sober—while Gilbert glares at the larger man as he continuously chugs his own bottle. The rune mage smiles proudly. His Laxus has so many talents!

Gilbert chokes on the last sips of his champagne. "I didn't know you're gay!" He yells at Laxus before hollowing in drunk laughter.

Laxus' face drops in shock. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"He called you his!" Gilbert points over to Freed.

Freed's pale, composed face turns red with a fluster in the span of a millisecond, not realizing he had spoken aloud moments before. "W-wait! I-I didn't mean it like that—!"

'There was a young fellow named Taylor,' Gilbert sings in a boisterous, slurry voice while swinging around his nearly-empty bottle.
'Who seduced a respectable sailor.

When they put him in jail,
He worked out the bail,

By licking the parts of the jailer!'

"Uncle Gilbert! I demand you stop this instant!" Freed exclaims in horror, his face burning as Gilbert throws his head back in amusement.

Lucy presses a hand to her hot face. "Freed, you're only encouraging him," she warns her friend.

Utterly embarrassed, Laxus' instincts kick in and react in the only way he knows how to handle situations like this—he hits Gilbert straight over the head.

Gilbert's eyes roll around before he plops face down on the table.

"Laxus!" Lucy and Freed scream as Laxus stands awkwardly by with a balled fist.

"Fucker deserved it," he grumbles as he turns pointedly away to hide his still reddened cheeks.

"What about the wedding!?" Lucy yells in a panic as she pulls on her hair.

"Why does Laxus get to hit him but I can't!?" Freed complains.

"For God's sake, Freed, not now!" Lucy curses.

"We are nothing like that," Laxus insists.

"You too, Laxus!"

Both men pout as Lucy runs over and vigorously tries to shake the albino awake. In the back of her mind, she feels Virgo's gate close, signaling that all of the guests must be in their carriages.

The swinging doors open as Ludwig passes through staring at his pocket watch. "It's time for everyone to head to the church," he announces as he pockets his watch. Everyone freezes in place as Ludwig halts mid-step.

"What are you doing?" he skeptically asks Lucy, who is currently hunched over his brother with her hands around his throat. "And why is there food all over you?"

"Um…" she hesitates nervously, her eyes flicking between the two brothers, "…he drank too much so I was trying to wake him up so he won't miss anything? And I had a little accident?"

A tense moment skips by before Ludwig groans with a shake of his head. "This is why I told him to stay away from the booze. And by the looks of it, so should you."

The mages heave a collective sigh of relief before Lucy snaps her head up with a glare.

"I'm going to go fetch Anya," he tells them before promptly heading toward the stairs.

"Mr. Beilschmidt!" Lucy yelps as she drops Gilbert's head, allowing him to hit the table with a heavy clunk, and jogs over to the banister. "Y-you can't go up there!"

"Of course, I can."

"N-No, really!"

"Lucy," Ludwig pauses on the staircase to twist toward the blonde. "We mustn't delay. You make sure Alfred is in his carriage."

Panic in full swing as Ludwig turns around once more, Lucy yells over his head up the stairs, "Alright, Mr. Beilschmidt! You go to Anya's room while we wait here for Alfred!"

"Gottverdammt, woman," he cringes as he looks back over his shoulder, "you can wake the dead with a voice like that."

"That would solve a lot of our problems," she grumbles under her breath as Mr. Beilschmidt takes two steps at a time up the staircase.

"Wait," Freed looks over to Lucy, "why shouldn't Mr. Beilschmidt go upstairs?"

Lucy groans before snapping her head toward her teammate. "Because," she hisses, "Alfred's up there!"

"Oh," he nods before realization lights up his face. "Oh!"

"Hopefully, Ever can stall long enough for Alfred to get away," Lucy says worriedly.

"Ever? She's upstairs as well?"

"Yeah. She's fixing Anya's dress and Alfred's pants."

"And Bickslow? Where is he?" Freed asks, suddenly remember the other missing person of their group.

Both Lucy and Laxus sigh.

Meanwhile, miles away in town, Bickslow is staring at a medical picture of Athlete's Foot.

The daring duo (which is entirely and wholesomely a misnomer since Matthew is anything but daring) had made a successful break from the wedding reception in search for a veterinarian to remove the wedding ring from Kumajirou's stomach.

The problem is that it is Sunday.

And the problem with that is that almost all of the local doctors are taking the day off to go golfing.

Everyone, except one podiatrist who hates to golf; which is where the two men currently are as they wait inside the waiting room for the nurse to call them inside.

"You know," Bickslow looks back at Matthew with a grin as he points at the picture of the fungus infected foot, "one time, a guy at my guild swears he got this from his refrigerator."

"How so?" Matthew asks curiously.

"He left his feet in there too long," Bickslow replies nonchalantly. "Or not long enough. Something along those lines."

"How did he put his feet in the refrigerator?" Matthew wonders in confusion.

"Simple. He opened the door up, laid down, and propped his feet inside."

"That must have been uncomfortable."

"He had a pillow," Bickslow added as he stroked his chin in thought. "Although I'm not sure where exactly."

"Why were his feet in the refrigerator in the first place?"

"Doctor's orders."

"A doctor told him to put his feet in the refrigerator?"

"Well, no, not exactly. The doc said for him to keep his feet cool so how else was he supposed to do that? The guy wasn't exactly the smartest cookie in the cookie jar," Bickslow nods sagely.

"It's a wonder he didn't get a cold instead," Kumajirou states over his copy of Bird Lovers magazine.

"Why would he get a cold?" Bickslow asks the bear.

"Cause he had cold air blowing on him," Kumajirou explains indifferently and without looking up from an article. "Did you know that a Barnacle gosling will throw itself off a 400-foot cliff to get food?"

A look of horror strikes Matthew while Bickslow looks mildly impressed. Stupid but brave. That's his kind of bird.

"…and after they get the ring from the veterinarian, Bickslow will stop by the bakery and pick up a new cake."

"New cake? We already have a…" Freed trails off as he looks over to the cake table where the cake has mysteriously vanished.

"Right, you missed that shitstorm," Laxus scowls at the memory.

"Oh, yeah," Lucy sighs as she places her hands on her hips and tilts her head off to the side. "The Father accidently fell on top of the cake."

"Gilbert?"

"No, the dead one."

"Ah, that sounds reasonable," Freed says thoughtfully.

"It's under the table," Laxus crosses his arms.

Freed turns toward his leader, his face scrunched in half-disbelief and half-confusion, and asks, "Why?"

Laxus shrugs. "Ask Bickslow."

Freed shakes his disapprovingly. While Bickslow can be quite insightful in a fight, the man can sometimes make it difficult for someone to believe he possesses at least half a brain.

"And Evergreen," Freed looks toward his leader, "is upstairs in Anya's room, mending her and Alfred's clothes, correct?"

"Yep."

"Didn't you think it unwise to let Alfred stay in the same room with Anya?" he asks them.

"Well, Alfred can't walk around without his ass," Laxus says in a bored tone.

Freed startles as his jaw partially drops while Lucy closes her eyes with another heavy sigh.

"Don't ask," Laxus tells him before any words leave Freed's mouth.

"And finally," Lucy opens her eyes to peer over to the leader of the Thunder Legion, "the Father is in the basement, at the bottom of the dumbwaiter."

Freed's eyebrows hike up as he turns to her in question.

"No one will find him there," she answers his already brewing question.

Freed looks between the dragon slayer and the celestial summoner in speechlessness. His logical mind swearing they are pulling some sort of strange prank on him.

They're not.

"What has been going on in here!?" he asks them, his voice rising with each word.

"You don't want to know," Laxus answers dismissively.

Footsteps from the stairs announce the arrival of the Beilschmidts. Ludwig escorts Anya on his arm down the stairs, a face filled with pride and adoration. Trailing behind, Ever has an expression of tense apprehension while her hands look as if they will rip the newly sewed pants at any moment. Lucy and Freed back up to either of Laxus' sides to give them some room.

Once at the bottom of the staircase, Ludwig proudly announces, "Here comes the bride." Anya looks up at her father lovingly before both walk toward the swinging doors.

Lucy and Freed smile warmly at the wonderful sight but feel their eyes bug out when they see the giant lump under the back of Anya's dress with an obnoxious, star-spangled underwear covered butt and legs with men's socks and dress shoes hanging out the rear. Quietly jogging behind the duo (trio), Freed and Lucy each grab a hip and smoothly pull Alfred backwards and out from under the dress as Ludwig and Anya continue forward into the ballroom and to their awaiting carriage without a single notice.

"That was much too close. You should really think more about your actions," Freed scolds Alfred.

"Sorry, man," Alfred rubs the back of his head apologetically before grinning like an idiot. "But I have to admit—I did like the view."

All of the mages sigh in exhaustion. The day has already been long enough without his jokes.

"BRACE!" the familiar voice of the cannoneer calls for the second time —and finally gets it right—before a thunderous bang fills the air to announce the departure of the bride from the household.

"Lucy," Ever's tone full of disgust as she walks over to the small group. "What happened to you?"

Lucy deadpans. "What happened to Alfred's pants?" she quips as she tosses a finger over her shoulder to the unashamed man standing bottomless in the middle of his father-in-law's kitchen.

An awkward frown etches itself onto Evergreen's face. "…I asked you first," she claims weakly.

"Come on, Ever," Laxus interjects with a stern tone as he joins them.

Ever pouts—bitterly thinking how, of course, he picks his "girlfriend's" side—before groaning in one of the longest and slowest groans Lucy has ever heard.

Holding up the pants, Ever cringes as she showcases the cotton candy pink background fabric decorated with smiling, flying, cartoon unicorns sewed into the seat of the pants.

Laxus, Freed, and Lucy stare at it in horror.

Alfred gives her a thumbs up and says it matches his eyes.

It doesn't.

"Before you say anything," Ever defends herself sharply as she hastily pulls the hideous garment aside. "It was the only fabric Anya had in her room that she was willing to part with! I had to make do with what I had!"

They all continue to stare at her.

"Are those…unicorns?" Lucy hesitates from behind a hand.

"That is a horrid shade of pink," Freed adds.

"The entire ass…" Laxus pronounces each word slowly from disbelief.

"I hate you all!"

"Well!" Alfred's normally loud voice rises two levels to wince-worthy. "This has been super fun and everything but I have a wedding to get to!"

Gilbert yanks his head back with a suck of air and drool. "Wedding…?" he slurs as his eyes rove the room in a different direction than his head. "Did somebody say…wedding?"

"Uncle Gilbert!" Alfred cheers, his arms flying to the air in celebration.

Hearing the man suddenly awaken from his Laxus-induced-coma, Lucy, Laxus and Freed are yanked out of their terror-filled-trances and into their panic-packed-realities. Laxus struts over to the albino while grabbing more alcohol.

"We can't let Alfred walk into the church like that!" Lucy gestures to the pants. "If Mr. Beilschmidt sees him wearing those, he'll kill Alfred then us!"

"Well, I don't know about us—" Freed starts.

"Ever," Lucy turns to the fairy mage, forgetting the green-haired man, "Can you fly to the tailor and pick out a new pair of pants?"

"Why can't Freed do it?" Ever huffs.

"Because he still has to get to the church and make sure it is safe for all of the guests."

Ever huffs again but this time in resignation. In great annoyance, she tosses the pants at Alfred's head, commands him to put them on, go get in his carriage, go to the church, and wait in the back while making sure no one sees him until she comes and gets him.

Alfred grins wildly as he gives her another thumbs up. Turning on his heel, he half-hops half-tumbles toward the ballroom doors as he tries to pull his pants while he walks, stunning the on watching mages.

A loud belch pulls their attention to the back of the room as they watch Laxus chug his third beer while Gilbert pants rapidly before starting to down his second.

"How masterful…" Lucy drawls with a frown.

"He truly is," Freed agrees as stars pop in his eyes.

Narrow shoulders slump as Lucy and Ever deadpan at the ever-loyal fan.

"We'll also need to get Gilbert an outfit," Lucy turns to Ever without dropping her exasperated expression.

Ever gives Lucy a death look, causing the woman to shrink back with sweat beading down her temple.

"O-or maybe just a jacket or something?"

Huffing that she has to do everything around here, Ever stomps toward the back door—grabbing Freed along the way, much to his protest—to tend to their respective tasks.

"How am I going to make it through this day?" Lucy whines to herself once she is left alone with the drinking duo.

But her pity party is cut short as Keegan breaks through the swinging doors with labored breathes. Throwing a finger at the blonde with a stern brow, his body deflates a moment later as he leans against the wall gasping for air.

Lucy sweatdrops.

"J-just g-give me a second," he tells her between breaths.

"Look," Lucy frowns at him, irritated and in no mood to deal with the obvious misunderstanding, "I'm not whoever it is you are looking for. I've never met you before. Laxus has never met you before. So, please, leave us alone. We're trying to work."

"I have," he huffs, almost done regaining his breath, "no doubt it's you two. The guy looks a bit different but you haven't changed at all! Deny it all you want; I shall have my vase!"

"We're not denying anything!"

"That's exactly what a liar would say!"

"Oh!" Out of frustration and impulse, Lucy looks around for something to throw at the man. Behind her sits a glass, semi-circular bowl. Impulsively grabbing the bowl, she leans back as far as she dares, fully intent on smashing it over the blue tuxedo man's head when he lets out a scream girl-ier than Asuka's.

"Wait! Not the shrimp! Anything but the shrimp!" he wails dramatically.

Lucy pauses to blink large, round eyes at him. Slowly lowering her arms, she blinks down into the bowl where, lo and behold, are the curled crustaceans in some kind of tomato-y base. Pulling her eyes forward to look at the terrified man she drops them again to look back at the floating seafood. She holds it out to him, unsure if he is actually afraid of something so ridiculous and receives her answer in the form of him letting out another girly scream before running out of the room so fast he created an air current.

Lucy looks back at the bowl. A thought strikes her to take the bowl with her to scare Keegan away during the remainder of the job and she can't stop the nod as she feels impressed with herself and her little plan. Spinning toward the other blonde in the room, bowl in hand, Lucy waltzes over to the little table.

"How's everything going?" she asks Laxus.

"I would be a hell a lot better if I wasn't as sober as I am," he grumbles.

"Hah!" Gilbert chortles. "You said sober!" And proceeds to chug more beer.

A kind smile tilts her lips upwards as she looks down at him. "I'm sorry. We'll go have some drinks after the job is done. Will that make you feel better?"

Laxus visibly perks up at the offer. The thought of spending time with the blonde while drinking some much-needed alcohol brings a smirk to his face.

"Hey!" Gilbert shouts suddenly and points a wobbly finger back and forth past Lucy. "Who invited the blonde triplets?"

Laxus and Lucy side eye one another.

"Uncle Gilbert," Lucy waves a hand in front of his face, dragging his attention toward her (the middle one, in his mind). "How would you like to perform your niece's wedding?" she asks sweetly.

Gilbert is taken aback. He stands up, plants a hand on his chest, and declares, "I will do better than that! I will perform the ceremony!" Then he belches.

Perfect, Lucy smiles inwardly. She motions to Laxus for him to help her take Gilbert to the carriage. Gently taking one of Gilbert's arms around her shoulder, she balances the shrimp bowl in the other arm while Laxus takes hold of Gilbert's other arm. On the count of two, they hoist him up enough to drag his feet across the floor toward the ballroom doors.

Back at the podiatrist, the bear and the doctor are staring at one another. Bickslow and Matthew stare at them staring at each other. The Babies stare at them staring at the two staring at one another.

Finally, the doctor breaks the silence. "Do you smoke?"

Matthew guffaws. "O-Of course not! Mr. Lima would never—"

"The occasional cigar," the bear answers without looking away. "But only for special occasions."

Matthew gasps before whimpering to himself in disbelief. "Just when you think you know somebody…"

"That's rough man," Bickslow pats him on the back while nodding his head in heartfelt sympathy.

"Just makes me wonder what else I have been blind to," Matthew laments.

"You shouldn't be so hard on yourself."

"If only I had been a better person. Maybe this would have never had happened."

"You did all you could."

"Now," the doctor clears his throat. "About the purpose of your visit: the ring."

The men snap to attention.

"I have prescribed some laxatives," he hands a box with a smiling man on the front—Bickslow has always wondered why someone would be smiling while taking these—to Matthew. "Give some to Mr. Kumajirou and the ring will be out in the next few hours."

"Uh, Doc, we need it in, like, the next half hour," Bickslow tells the doctor with a frown, his tongue flopping out.

"Well," the doctor cups his chin in thought, "I have heard drinking soda does help accelerate the process."

"How come?"

"No idea."

"Ah."

"If that will be all, we'll be going. Thank you for see us on such short notice," Matthew thanks the doctor as he picks up Mr. Kumajirou.

The doctor bids them farewell and to come again should they ever need a foot fugus cured. Bickslow makes sure to take a business card.

Outside, Bickslow tells Matthew to go ahead without him since he has to make one more stop before going to the church. Matthew nods hesitantly before telling the mage that he will go buy some soda before he heads to the church. Bickslow grins madly at him, his tongue showcasing his Fairy Tail guild mark, and says that that is a swell idea. Matthew gives him a thankful smile before it drops as Bickslow flies off, unknowingly to him, toward the bakery.

Flying around the corner, Bickslow notices a large, white, industrial building on the corner with the words Laura's Laundry and Linens painted on the front in bold cursive letters. Humming to himself in curiosity, he jokes to himself with a laugh that at least he doesn't have to go in there as he flies down the street.

As Lucy and Laxus finally reach the courtyard, they sigh in relief at the sight of one carriage left.

"Alright, Gilbert," Lucy carefully places her feet onto the small steps while hauling Gilbert and her shrimp into the carriage.

"It's a neigh-neigh!" Gilbert exclaims excitedly as he tries to reach out to pet the horse while he's sideways between the carriage door.

"Uncle Gilbert, come on!" Lucy tugs on his side. Sitting the shrimp bowl on the opposite seat, Lucy tugs with both hands on his arm while Laxus shoves with his shoulder. Gilbert is flung into the cabin, slamming Lucy against the far door, and makes the whole carriage rock.

Laxus, not so gently, yanks Gilbert into the other seat as an internal piece of him hisses at the man for touching what is his. He offers a hand to Lucy as she rubs at her aching head. "Sorry," he offers sincerely.

"It's okay," she smiles at him as she slips her hand into his own. Tingles skip along her skin as her flesh molds with his. Excitement pounds within her heart. Joy wrapping its warm fingers over the beating muscle.

Laxus takes the moment to memorize how soft her hand feels, how it fits in his hand, how her fingers twitch against his own. Oh, how wonderful they feel.

Using his weight, Lucy pulls herself to a bent stature and takes a seat by her shrimp. Reluctantly releasing his hand, a stray thought wishes she could hold his hand forever and causes heat to rise to her cheeks.

"A-are you riding with us?" she asks as she turns away, lest he see her face reddening.

Laxus looks around the cabin. "Nah, it's too small."

"You mean you're too big," Lucy teases, her cheeks dulling to a pretty pink.

He frowns at her, a part of him wondering why she won't face him. He closes the door with a click and tells the driver to get a move on. Lucy spins around, surprised by his lack of response, only to be greeted by the shut door and the carriage pulling into life. Guilt suddenly weaves its way into her gut as she imagines her words upsetting him.

Laxus walks beside the carriage, the driver purposefully going somewhat slower so the man can keep up. Along with being too big for the carriage, Laxus also wants to avoid any motion sickness and to walk off some of the stress he has built up over the day.

Thinking of stress relief, Laxus remembers back to the kitchen as Lucy said they could go get drinks. The brief memory brings a comforting smile to the man's face as he imagines sitting at the guild—no, not the guild…A bar! A bar away from the guild! That way no one from the guild will come barging over and steal her away. They'll be sitting at the bar—or a table or booth or whatever she wants—they'll order some drinks, maybe some food. Then they'll sit there, together, with no one bothering them all night. It'll just be the two of them. It'll be great. It'll be just what he needs. It'll be just like a date—

Laxus stops dead in his tracks, the carriage continuing along without a care.

A…date…!? His mind screams at him as his eyes grow wider and wider and mouth drops further and further in revelation. D-Did Lucy ask me…on a date!?

The world falls away as Laxus' mind revolves around that one question as he continues to stand there, gawking at empty space.

The driver, looking back to check on the blonde man, does a full double take when he sees the coated figure standing at a notable distance, the mansion not far behind. Sighing to himself that he doesn't get paid enough for this, he snaps the reins while pulling them to the side to turn the carriage around.

"I wonder if everything is okay?" Lucy says to no one in particular as she notices the carriage change course.

"Everything would be okay if I was driving," Gilbert says confidently before his lips fall into a pout. "But I'm not allowed to drive anymore, Ludwig won't let me. Not since the time I drove that carriage into a bizarre. They yelled at me to put some clothes on but I was already wearing a miniskirt, bunny ears, and a riding crop! Why can woman wear those but men can't!? It's discrimination, I say!"

"Why?" Lucy asks in astonishment.

"Why, what?"

Lucy opens her mouth but pauses in thought. Now, thinking about it, none of what he just says makes any sense. "I guess all of it, really," she answers, in a rather disturbed manner.

"Well," Gilbert smacks his lips as he tries and fails to cross his legs to get more comfortable. "It all started with this hula hoop…"

And it was at this moment that Lucy regretted ever getting in that carriage.

Back down the road, Laxus remains frozen in internal panic.

The driver grumbles as he finally makes it up to the man and climbs down from his post. Standing only a few inches above Master Makarov, he struts over to the immobile hulk and tugs insistently on Laxus' fur-lines coated.

"Hey, Mr.!" he calls up to the giant when he doesn't answer. "Hello!? Anybody home!?"

Nothing. Not even a breath.

Huffing through his nose, he swears he needs to take up drinking again before he punches Laxus square in the knee.

And immediately regrets it as his hand throbs in pain.

But it does the trick as the tap barely distracts Laxus from his great dilemma long enough for him to look down at the mini man.

"What are you made out of!? Iron!?" the driver barks as he cradles the hand that is already starting to turn purple.

"No. That's Gajeel."

The driver looks up at him confounded before shaking his head and grumbling about kids these days on the way back to the carriage. Once he climbs back to his seat, he tells Laxus not to fall behind because he's not going to come get him again. Laxus frowns but doesn't argue as the driver turns the carriage around.

Now steadily following the coach, his mind instant reels back to its previous conundrum: did Lucy ask him on a date or not? Just like in battles, Laxus knows panicking will not get him anywhere.

Well, it left him gawking in the middle of the road like an idiot but he's going to ignore that.

Instead, he's going to look at the facts and go from there. So, what does he know…?

Deep, deep in Laxus imagination a large spotlight shines down on two desks with a large corkboard on one side. On one side sits an excited Laxus wearing a yellow t-shirt, with the name Hopeful typed on a name card at the front of the table. At the other table sits a bored looking Laxus wearing a white tank top and jacket with the name Doubtful displayed before him.

"Let me just save everyone some time, alright?" Doubtful begins harshly, holding up a hand. "It's not a date."

"But she said, and I quote, 'We'll go have some drinks after the job is done.'" Hopeful leans across the table, his tone adamant. "She invited us for a night out. Therefore, it's a date."

"No, no," Doubtful shakes his head and points a finger at his opponent. "She originally said 'I'm sorry' as in she feels sorry for us. Then she added the whole, 'Will that make you feel better?'; proving she was trying to take pity on us by buying us some drinks."

"The reason she said that she was sorry was because she sympathized with us. And asking if a few drinks will make us better proves that she understands about our feelings."

"What feelings!?" Doubtful gestures to the empty air with his hands. "She knows about how we feel about her as much as we know how she feels about us!"

"See, that's where you are wrong," Hopeful says confidently. Reaching behind him, he pulls out a butter knife with a white tag attached and lays it on the table. "Exhibit A."

Doubtful blinks at him unimpressed.

"This knife slapped butter on us not even half an hour ago. And what did Lucy do?" Hopeful holds out a hand toward Doubtful, welcoming the answer.

Doubtful sighs. "She tried to clean our shirt."

"Exactly!"

"So what?" Doubtful drawls. "That knife doesn't prove she asked us on a date."

"But it does prove that she cares about us."

"Enough to ask us on a date?"

"Yes!"

"Bullshit."

"Alright, then. Exhibit B!" Hopeful pulls out a perfect replica of the lopsided wedding cake before the dead minister feel into it. "Even though we told her we can't decorate for shit, she still asked us to help her. Not Freed. Not Ever. Not Bickslow. Us. Thus proving, that she wanted to spend time with us privately."

"Freed was trying to find Gilbert and Ever was doing security rounds so of course they couldn't do it. And there was no privacy! Bickslow was literally ten feet away!"

"But she still asked."

Doubtful groans. "Look, if you want proof of her feelings then why didn't she look at us when we helped her in the carriage?"

"Well, I'm sure that was—"

"And how she didn't thank us when we defended her when she told off the asshole chef or going along with her plan or blocking her from that guy in the blue tuxedo or helping her off the ground?

"Now hang on—!"

"And then there's this!" Doubtful stands up suddenly, his chair falling over backwards, and walks over to the board to tack a picture onto the rough surface. "Here is proof that she willing threw herself over another man just to stop him from beating the shit out of a guy. Do you really think her asking us to put fruit on a cake meant anything meaningful?"

"Yep, it's the little things that matter. Just like when we ate with her spirits," Hopeful crosses his arms with a nod.

"That was also when she immediately denied having feelings for us!" Doubtful slams his palms on his table.

"Because she was surprised by their sudden appearance."

"No. Surprised is when Erza broke into our house with those fucking outfits…"

And the two counterparts continue to argue back and forth as Laxus absentmindedly follows the carriage down the road.

Forgotten in the distance and in the mage's memories, the lifeless Father still remains in the basement of the mansion. Along with the newly deceased, the mages have also forgotten how the reception is being held before the wedding and therefore, how Mr. Beilschmidt has scheduled cleanups crews to begin refreshing and cleaning every spot of the house in preparation for the post-wedding reception as soon as Laxus, Lucy, and Gilbert left the premises.

Ludwig is only holding the party out of courtesy since Anya nor Alfred will be present.

What no one realizes is how the laundry crew—who is responsible for gathering, replacing, and eventually cleaning all of the tablecloths, linens, and napkins—are throwing all of the dirty fabrics straight into the industrial hamper in the basement without a care.