Tales of the Bespectacled, 2nd edition

Characters: Laxus/Mirajane

Genre: Romance/Humor, T

Summary: Laxus goes for the 'respectable businessman' look. Starring Abby aka mirajens as Mirajane Strauss.

Note: Not related to the first Tales of the Bespectacled.

Tales of the Bespectacled

II.

Laxus grunted, looking at his reflection on the mirror behind the reception desk. "I look like a clown."

"You look like a respectable businessman, Laxus," Evergreen rolled her eyes and fixed the collar of his shirt. Freed nodded in agreement.

He only frowned at his reflection again, though. Those glasses were ridiculous and uncomfortable.

"I'm no businessman," Laxus groaned. "I'm a mechanical engineer. I do heavy and dirty work. I shouldn't even be here."

"Oookay," Bickslow intervened. "Here's the truth, man: you're scary, alright? This gruesome scar of yours and this bulky physique and this angry vibe? Scary. In fact, when you put on a suit, you look like hired muscle for the mob. So that's what the glasses are for, to make you less scary. Now stop whining like a little bitch and button up your suit already."

Laxus suppressed the will to throw his hands in the air. The universe would never forgive him for falling from his bicycle and hitting his face full speed on the ground when he was eleven.

"Also, you're here because your grandfather expects you to run the company someday, so he wanted you to learn how deals are done," Freed added, which only made Laxus snort. His grandfather's exact words were actually 'if you want those fancy gears so bad just go grab them for yourself, I don't have time for your spoiled tastes'. Apparently, Freed didn't know that — or chose to ignore it.

"I don't want to run anything, I just want to build my racing cars in peace!"

"Jesus, you're really whiny today," Evergreen buttoned up the suit for him because he didn't care much about buttons, and made him straighten his posture. "Now shut up everyone, the secretary is back."

They all stood in silence watching the tall, slim woman walk in higher-than-necessary heels towards them with a polite smile on her face.

"Mr. Dreyar, Ms. Strauss is ready to see you," she said and Bickslow prompted him to step forward with a push. He swallowed down a curse. "If you'd be so kind to accompany me." She gestured at the direction she had come from.

As Laxus followed the young receptionist, he turned his head backwards and saw Freed making a cheering sign and Bickslow mouthing 'super hot businessman'. He vowed to himself that they would pay for that shit and fixed for the hundredth time those damn glasses that were insisting on sliding along the bridge of his nose.

The secretary opened the door to a huge office with a stellar view from the street fifty floors below. In one of the corners there was a couch accompanied by a coffee table and a mini bar, while in the opposite side of the office stood a big mahogany table.

When the trio of idiots that stayed outside had told him 'Ms. Strauss' was a sophisticated woman that should be feared and treated with caution because she was known as The Demon, Laxus had imagined someone like Margaret Thatcher or that Devil Wears Prada lady, an old hag taking pleasure in making grown men shit their pants.

He definitely hadn't expected a hottie.

"Mr. Dreyar," she opened a smile full of charm from behind the table. "Please be seated."

Oh, boy. He was so going to screw everything.

Settling himself on the chair she had indicated, Laxus thankfully remembered to unbutton yet again his suit. "Just call me Laxus."

"Then call me Mirajane… Laxus." Her blue eyes shone as she crossed her really, really nice legs. "Anything to drink?"

"No, thanks." Laxus was starting to sweat under her scrutinizing gaze. He adjusted his glasses.

"I'll have that scotch, Cynthia, thank you," Mirajane motioned for the reception lady. "You can leave the bottle here on your way out."

After the Cynthia lady excused herself and shut the door behind her, Laxus felt he was in a lion's den. Or would that be a lioness den?

It was just the way she looked at him. Like she was stalking her prey. Waiting for him to falter so she could pounce at him. It was unnerving.

And yet, he had a boner.

"So," Mirajane took a sip of her drink. Had he mentioned he had a thing for women that could hold their liquor? "What can I do for you today, Laxus?"

The way she put velvet in her words, in his name… it had to be a trap, right? Was she trying to assess his professionalism?

"I, uhm…" Laxus stuttered like a fucking loser. Opening his suitcase, he took off some papers and handed them to her. "Your chromed VX-4 valves are perfect for my next project."

"I see," she tapped perfectly manicured fingers on the wood as she read the proposal.

"There are several benefits for your company, so I was hoping we'd—"

"No."

He blinked. Then, he waited for her to tell it was a joke, which she didn't.

Mirajane smiled sympathetically at him.

"After you've just told me how perfect my product is," she said like she was talking to a dumb child. "How do you expect me to sell it for such a low price?"

Laxus clenched his teeth together to stop his mouth from ruining everything. God, it was hard to keep things business like.

He took a deep breath. "Your company's logo would be featured in—"

"No."

"Well, with such low numbers last semester it's not like you're in a position to refuse this deal, aren't you?" Laxus blurted out, all pretenses gone. "It wouldn't be too hard to buy a portion of your stock and do a hostile takeover either. Your choice, Mirajane."

There it goes. He didn't have the patience to bullshit. He wasn't meant for a world of appearances and passive-aggressive negotiations, the only person who couldn't accept that was his grandfather.

She stared at him. Her face was expressionless, but that stare… yeah, he could see where that Demon nickname came from. But Laxus stood his ground and stared back.

Though with those damn glasses sliding on his nose, he probably wasn't being as intimidating as he wished.

Mirajane suddenly threw her head back and laughed. Laxus wondered if she'd fallen into madness.

Then, she relaxed on her chair and took another sip of her drink. "Glad to see you've got some guts. I'd chew you alive if this negotiation was for real, you know."

"What do you mean?" Laxus asked with furrowed brows.

"Mr. Makarov and I have already reached an agreement last week," she stated matter-of-factly.

That made Laxus halt. Why the hell his grandfather would send him here in the first place? No, something wasn't right. He had a really bad feeling about this.

Mirajane pressed a button of her phone and the receptionist's voice chimed in the line. "Cynthia, please tell our guests they don't need to wait for Mr. Dreyar."

She then opened a drawer and started rummaging inside. "Now, Laxus, the real reason Mr. Makarov wanted me to meet you is because he wants to arrange our marriage."

Laxus snorted. That must be a joke, right? No way would his grandfather pull some shit like that. Pff, as if he would ever agree to such nonsense.

Except when she took out a glossy folder and he opened it only to find a full dossier about his life, Laxus felt blood draining from his face.

There were countless pictures of him. Dressed in his uniform from his days in the army. The day he graduated from college. Jogging in the park, lifting weight at the gym.

Someone took a fucking picture of him brushing his teeth. With nothing but a towel around his waist.

"What the fuck?!" he barked, still flipping through the papers. There was a very detailed report about his favorite places, music, food and so on. Was someone spying on him? "This is absurd."

"It's actually very common for 'family companies' to arrange marriages for business purposes," she said, unsurprised.

"And you are okay with this… this…" he indicated the file with disgust.

Mirajane shrugged. "I'm not a silly little girl that dreams with a perfect wedding and a happily ever after, Laxus. I'd already made my mind about the fact it was bound to happen one day, the only question was when. Your grandfather needs someone in the family that can manage his company since you don't seem eager to follow his steps. I need a way to keep my business out of bankruptcy. He offered to buy my company and, in exchange, I would help him keep his business within the Dreyars hold."

Laxus tossed his glasses on the table and pinched the bridge of his nose. He would murder his grandfather when he got home. His whole body shook with anger. He felt like banging his hand on the windows until they shattered.

He took a deep breath and did the most sensible thing he could think of in that moment: he grabbed that bottled of scotch, poured himself a very generous drink and downed it in one go.

"Cheers," Mirajane raised her glass in a theatrical manner.

"So this is what, a date?" Laxus asked, refilling his glass.

Her face went serious and she considered him for a while.

"Look, you seem like a nice guy and I don't want to waste more of your time. The thing is, if I'm going to do this marriage thing, I'm going to do it right, ok? I'll stay faithful to my husband, pop a kid or two and all that jazz. The only thing I can't see myself doing is spending the rest of my life with someone who's bad at sex. But of course I couldn't say that to an octogenarian, so I had him arrange this meeting."

Laxus nodded with mockery, downing his second drink. "So this is a test drive."

"If you want to, I'm sure you'll find my couch very comfortable," she smirked. "But seriously though, you should consider your grandfather's offer. It'd be a way for you to get rid of the CEO position while retaining the power to do whatever you want with your money."

He let his eyes travel along her body. "All this while having sex with you, I suppose."

"If you are up to my standards, that is," Mirajane smirked again, taking a sip from her glass.

Laxus' brain, now filled with a significant amount of alcohol, started focusing less on his rage towards his grandfather and more on that woman's cleavage. She was painstakingly beautiful, after all. It wouldn't hurt to check the whole package, no strings attached, wouldn't it?

"You know what, fuck it. Let's do it," he stood up, finishing his last drink. "Can't refuse a pretty lady's request."

Mirajane followed him to the sofa with no ceremony. "You should keep your glasses on."

"Not happening."

A/N: Mirajane was based on a conversation I had with Abby about arranged marriages, so she deserves all the credit here.