I came up for the idea of this story fairly randomly but once I got it in my head I just sort of went with it. This is dedicated to the very wonderful Eien ni Touko and Dragon'sHost here on FF. Please note this is an AU story :)

Hiro Mashima owns Fairy Tail

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Sometimes in life there are times when all you want to do is start over, erase the past and make a new existence for yourself, and often times people got lost to dreams of a new life. For me I wanted to be an unknown, to get rid of my very prominent surname and vanish from the crowd, and so that's what I'd done. After the very unusual death of Layla Heartfilia, which was announced as a natural cause, the press and conspiracy theory junkies all blamed her husband Jude in claims that it was murder; said man had killed himself less than a month afterward, leaving their seventeen-year-old daughter alone in the world. Me.

'Lucky' Lucy Heartfilia. The very rich, beautiful, and compassionate child of the Heartfilia Estate; my father had been a railway, taxi, and transportation tycoon. So upon his death the reporters swarmed, someone even publishing a very private photograph of me kneeling beside his coffin with tears streaming down my face; the fucker had won and award in Bosco for it since they had lowered censored compared to Fiore, exploitation of a minor came into play with the family's legal team and the man was in prison. Fucking prick.

So at the age of eighteen I'd simply donated most of the fortune and estate to charity, taking enough to live comfortably, and legally changed my name before falling off the radar. Fun fact is that sightings of 'Lucy Heartfilia' rival sightings of Sugarboy Presley. I ended up laying low for a year or two, simply using a brown wig to hide my naturally golden hair while colored-contacts became my saviors, and then once the hype died down I'd up and moved from Acalypha to Magnolia.

"Lucy-chan, I have an assignment for you from the boss." My eyes raised, meeting the joyful smile of my immediate superior Jason; his blond hair was the same style as always with one errant lock sticking straight up. "A new one already? I just sent in the article about the new public bath in Shirotsume." As a writer for Magnolia Weekly, the local magazine that was super well known, I got to travel a lot as a job perk; and since the 'Heartfilia Heiress' hype was centered here it allowed me to stay miles ahead of any chances of them discovering the truth.

Jason had the decency to at least try to look apologetic. "I know, Lucy-chan, but you know Matsuki-sama." Unfortunately it was true, our very darling editor enjoyed overloading us with articles, one after the other with barely any time between. "That I do. So what's the assignment?" The blond male across from me was notorious for skimming articles and going to Matsuki when it came to interviews with celebrities or powerful and influential people, which was fine by me, and Jason offered a little chuckle. "Interview." That response, considering it was so short too, made my brows wing up in surprise before I could stop myself. I never got to do interviews, ever, so for me to get one was either that the person wasn't popular or it was someone Jason wanted nothing to do with.

I accepted the information, as well as what the article was supposed to be on, and Jason left with a wave; sipping my coffee, which was sadly very cold after I'd gotten lost in my previous assignment, I then skimmed the document.

For the next edition you are to interview Erik Cassava, he's evidently a real psychic and does independent consulting for the local police force, and in order to prove that he's truly a psychic he must give you the code word in the attached manilla folder before you start interviewing.

Code Word: Belladonna

The article is going to be on how he realized his powers, what sort of work he does for the local police, and just what the extent of his powers are. Erik's contact information is listed below and the deadline is two weeks from today.

-Takahashi Matsuki

Psychic? That made me snort in amusement, not a cute one either, and I leaned back in my chair. Being a natural skeptic made me discredit any and all attempts off the bat, while I did believe in ghosts and spirits I didn't believe there were people who could see and interact with them, and so the idea of a police ghost talker was pretty funny. "Ah well. If he doesn't get the code work then I don't have to do it." Which I was sincerely hoping he didn't considering I didn't need a waste of my time like this.

With a soft sigh I dialed the number listed and propped my chin in my free hand, the phone rang exactly thrice before a silky female voice sounded. "Cassava residence, Sorano speaking." The girl had a someone husky voice, she sounded cute, and it was almost like she'd just gotten finished with a good lay from the breathy quality to her voice. "My name is Lucille Ashley, I'm a writer for Magnolia Weekly, I was calling for Erik." The words rolled off my tongue with ease, years of speech lessons and etiquette recalled in an instant.

The breathy, husky, voice laughed gently. "So the persistent Matsuki-san finally managed to get Erik to agree to an interview? Impressive, only took him five years, but I digress. Give me one moment." The device was set down, the sound of clicking heels on hardwood became faint, and I was suddenly very curious about this woman. Moments later a smooth tenor voice sounded through the device. "Erik speaking." He had a rather brusque tone, right to the point, I liked it. "Hello, as I told Sorano my name is Lucille Ashley with Magnolia Weekly, I was wondering if we could set up a date to get started on the interview." A soft hum answered, I faintly heard papers shift, and then he let out a low grumble into the device. "Sure, okay. I'm free tomorrow." A quick glance at my day planner revealed an empty square. "As am I. How about we set up a one o'clock appointment over lunch." Pen scribbled on paper on his end. "Meet me at Kravings, on Eighth." My hand stilled, Kravings was my favorite lunch place, and I managed a small hum. "Very well. I'll see you tomorrow, Cassava-san." He grunted and hung up, which prompted me to roll my eyes before I could stop myself, and then I was working on my advice column.

"Don't fucking start with me, Feathers." I could feel her gaze burning into my back, practically demanding answers, but she wasn't gonna break me this time. It was bad enough that Matsuki had gotten that picture of me as black mail, all for a god damned interview of all things, but the worst part was Laxus' reaction to the article. He'd nearly blown a gasket since the questions were very specific, my job was apparently to get out of the interview any way I could, and so I set up the meeting and prepared myself to find a way to make the writer abandon the story.

Sorano was laughing, a cruel laugh, in her naturally higher pitch instead of her phone sex operator voice that she'd used on the phone with Lucille. "Poor Cobra, one slip up and now Matsuki's got his claws in ya. Oh well. Just make the girl cry, she sounds like some trained bimbo anyway, maybe if you piss of enough writers Matsuki-san will leave us alone." The damned woman went up the stairs before I could even reply, my mind focused on not focusing, and I knew that I was grinding my teeth together as I made my way to the kitchen to finish dinner.

At the table Macbeth was sleeping, snoring rather loudly, with his face pressed into a stack of accounting sheets; I snorted as I pulled him so he was leaning with his had back, the snoring stopping since he wasn't hunched in on himself, and then I was back cooking. Seeing as Sorano, Macbeth, Sawyer, and I had been together since we were kids we simply just lived together rather than apart. We'd been fosters in the ever shitty system, orphans who'd been given away by our parents for some reason or another, and we'd simply stuck together our whole lives.

A loud thump was followed by a curse. "Oh, sorry Macbeth, didn't see ya there." He was fucking lying, per usual, the pair had a fierce rivalry that had stemmed from their crush on the neighbor girl Meredy. "Tch, fucking liar, both of you need to stop acting like prepubescent boys and just talk to the pink haired demon." The looks I got would intimidate anyone else. "Try lacing my food with poison next time and I'll make sure that you're never found again. You forget, fuck wads, I can hear your plans and I have a connection with the cops." They backed off, making me nod at their surprisingly smart move, and I finished the chili before serving myself a bowl and loading it up with hot sauce.

"How you haven't torn up your stomach lining with that shit is beyond me." Sorano commented as she strode into the room, sniffing the pot before grabbing her own bowl, and I simply raised an eyebrow. 'Thanks, Nii-san.' Of the lot of them she was the one who refused to verbalize her kindness, preferring to keep that bright and smiling part of her locked away, and I understood that. It was just how she was, the gleam in her eyes at the very unnoticeable incline of my head was enough, and Macbeth grabbed a bowl as did Sawyer. "I love it when I don't have to cook." The speed obsessed stunt driver commented with a chuckle, earning a scowl from Sorano, and Macbeth snorted.

"Well considering your last meal tried to actually eat us? I love it when you don't have to cook too." The pair began snapping at one another, both mentally and verbally, so I very quickly grabbed a knife and stabbed the wooden table between them. In the same spot. Just like ever other fucking time. "Chill. The fuck. Out." My words were clipped, I couldn't help how fucking mad I was with everything happening, and the two wisely fell silent. I'd finished my bowl, setting it in the sink, and stalked to my room on the third floor. I liked it hot, the cold and I didn't get along at all, and so I had a room where the heat went. Up.

I couldn't help but dread the following day, nosy reporters in a place with a lot of people, and I knew that if I didn't bring one of the guys from the force that Laxus would have my head. Certain questions were forbidden, Matsuki-san knew that, so a cop had to join me in order to keep the reporter and magazine out of the loop of certain arrests. 'I really hope it's Rogue that gets sent. I can't handle Flame Fuck, Star Wars, Pincushion, or even sir Sparks A Lot himself.'

'This had better be worth it. Fuck.'

The foundation has been set. Please tell me what you think so far!