Important A/N: Speed the Collapse is set in the same AU as Sweet-Rot, which is a 1950's magical-but-also-not-really, some-have-magic-some-don't AU. It may not be necessary to read Sweet-Rot first, but it may help. Jerza. Graytear. Miraxus.

Fairy Tail belongs to Hiro Mashima.

Warnings: Rated M for graphic depictions of violence, coarse language, sexual content, substance use.

I have changed my mind. This story is for me. I am my own worst critic. My first and last judge. The jury and my own executioner.

I am also my best champion.

Speed the Collapse

Gin rested on Erza's tongue, both fresh and sweetened with a little bit of lemon water. She sipped the drink and knew, though she didn't meet his eye, that she was watched. He seemed particularly fascinated with her mouth, entranced with the way her lips curved on the glass and engrossed with the lipstick mark she left behind.

His gaze could only be described as indecent and the kinds of thoughts he had were clear. He looked at her in the way a fox might a mouse. Hungrily. His appetite was voracious. Everyone knew that.

Erza was no mouse. Mice didn't have single shot Kolibri's strapped to their legs underneath their emerald halter dress. Mice didn't have brass knuckles in their clutch. Mice didn't have a badge that said Constable.

Jellal sipped his mint julep and his many rings winked in the golden overhead light. He was almost a part of the room sitting in his dark armchair, stuffed and gilded with golden thread. His hair was slicked back beneath his charcoal brim fedora hat and the suit he wore was dark and expensive, Erza could see it in the stitch. On his feet were leather two-toned oxfords that were polished to a high sheen. Nothing about him was accidental, tone of voice included—a little bit wry, a little bit sweet, and effortless when he dragged himself away from gazing at her mouth to drawl, "I'm honored you finally graced Halo with your presence."

He had a nice way of speaking, slow and thorough and he rolled his R's just a little, betraying his ethnicity. He was secretive about his heritage, though, and wouldn't say exactly where he was from, only that it was far away.

Because Erza didn't know much about Jellal Fernandez, she picked him apart where she could. Men weren't enigmatic, though they wanted you to think that they were, her mother had taught her that at a young age and it was something that she'd held on to. Jellal, though, he made a good play at it. What was there to know, he'd asked her once.

She wanted to know every little thing. A good constable should be familiar with their enemy.

The things she knew for certain were few. Jellal owned and operated a restaurant that doubled as a speakeasy of sorts. Alcohol had been legal for a lot of years but to get into Halo's private room, one needed a connection and a password and the grace of its owner before they could slip in through the secret door in the back. He loved his Corvette. He loved the colour red. He loved to tease her. Maybe teasing wasn't the right word. He loved to try to charm her and Erza loved to deny him.

The things she didn't know for certain were more numerable and more serious by half.

First and foremost on this list was if his weapons dealing to the Magnolia gangs was simply rumor or not. Erza leaned on the side of not. He was rich. The kind of rich that came from doing bad things. And was he capable? Yes, she believed so. Wondering about his integrity wouldn't keep her up at night.

He was crooked even if she couldn't prove it.

Would anyone listen to her if she could gather the evidence she needed to take him down, though? He had connections to the police and to the government. Erza couldn't say how far those connections went but knew it was far enough. He was the reason she was the Magnolia Police Department's very first female constable, after all. She didn't know what buttons he pressed to get them to consider her application but he'd pressed them and she had the chance to prove herself.

She was reluctantly grateful, there wasn't much good about being in debt to a man like Mister Fernandez, but there wasn't anything she'd rather be doing. She was born for the law.

"Have you given more thought to my offer?" Jellal asked like he had read her mind.

"It's a very generous offer." She didn't have to try hard to sound genuine, it was true. "But why would I leave the police to come work for you when you tried so hard to get me a job?"

The corner of his mouth came up. "Not that hard."

"Are you bragging?"

"Not at all. I only meant you did most of the work, Miss Scarlet. I only pointed the Commissioner in your direction."

It wasn't what he meant, they both knew it. Erza let it go, though, deciding that stepping out with grace was easier. "You're right. I did work hard. My point still stands."

He held out his finger in contradiction. "You wouldn't get the same kinds of benefits as you would here."

"My pension—"

"You were told you couldn't start paying into it for another year."

Erza puffed out her cheeks. "Are you spying on my confidential meetings?"

"I didn't have to. Your Chief Briggs is a predictable man," Jellal said with certainty. "Do you know why he wants to wait a year? So he can think of a list of fool-proof ways to fire you and not pay out."

"If that's true, he won't find one."

"You wouldn't have to fight so hard for everything here," Jellal acted like she hadn't spoken. "Good pay, perks like the use of the pool, meals from my gourmet chef—"

"Arrested when the police break in and tear Halo up," Erza interjected.

"Now why would they do that?"

"Why don't you tell me?" she whittled. "They're here every week from what I hear."

"Biasness."

"Lies. Why don't you try the truth?"

Jellal sat forward, making his leather chair squeak. "I could be coerced into sharing business if you wanted to deepen our relationship?"

Erza resisted the urge to sit back in her own plush armchair. It was ridiculous, there was a narrow coffee table between them but she was very, very aware of their positions. "That's actually why I'm here."

Jellal's grin widened. "Yes?"

It wasn't going to be the conversation he wanted to have. It was strangely satisfying crushing him. "Stop sending me flowers."

Jellal asked, "Don't you like them?"

"No."

"I thought they were romantic."

"I thought they were ostentatious and obnoxious." He must have spent a fortune already.

"Your boyfriend hates them?"

"I hate them."

"That's not the way I heard it."

"I don't see how you'd hear it any way," Erza said. "Unless, of course, you have people in the police department."

"I have people everywhere," he said carelessly.

"Who?"

"Come out for dinner with me tomorrow."

"No. Tell me the name of your man."

Jellal circumvented her request. "Why not?"

Erza faltered; not for long, but for a moment. "I already told you, I don't date criminals. The name."

"Who says I'm a criminal, doll? Because if it was the police, I'd be sitting behind bars, wouldn't I?"

"You know it's not so simple," Erza said. "You're sly, Mister Fernandez, and slippery. You do dirty business and hide it well."

"Well but not well enough to fool Constable Scarlet."

She still liked hearing Constable in front of her name. She had Gray call her that for a week straight after she'd been accepted onto the force and it still wasn't enough. And to hear it said with Jellal's rolling R's? It was impossible to snuff out completely the flame of pleasure that was cultivated. "I'm waiting for when you slip up."

Jellal's smile widened. This was a game he enjoyed. "If you went out with me, it'd give you a better opportunity to catch me red-handed."

"I told you, I don't date—"

"You told me that months ago."

"Nothing's changed."

"Because you won't let it."

"And what would happen if I did, huh?"

"A very enjoyable evening of dinner, poolside fun, afterward, you'd come back to my room wrapped in one of my towels and once the door was closed, I'd help you get out of your swimsuit and you could do the same for me."

Erza imagined that too easily and smothered the blush that tried to come to her. "And after that? Do we go our separate ways?"

"If that's what you want."

"I'm not a call girl, Mister Fernandez."

"Of course not."

"And if I'm seen on your arm in town? What will people say?"

"Who cares?"

"Me," she said viciously. "They already whisper when you send flowers."

"And what do they whisper?" He looked like he was having a grand old time.

"That maybe I didn't deserve to get my job," Erza said, remembering the note someone had scrawled in the girls' washroom just last week, using lipstick on the mirror. "That I've been doing favours for you while I'm with Gray. That I'm a loose woman turning tricks to get ahead." It made her so mad. "I deserved to get my job, Mister Fernandez. So what if you talked to the Commissioner? That doesn't mean anything." She'd still had to pass the physical tests and the psychological tests and all of the other tests that no one ever talked about, the ones where the men pushed you and you had to be better than them at absolutely everything and if you weren't, you better learn to be, otherwise, you were the butt of every joke and the object of every whisper.

"I imagine it's difficult being the only woman in a police uniform."

He said it gently, not patronizingly but Erza's back was still up. "Your antics aren't making things any easier."

Jellal did not apologize. "You know it wouldn't be that way in Halo. I have plenty of women that work here doing the kind of stuff you want to do; be one of those dames. Like I told you before, you don't want to wear a dress, Erza, doll, you don't have to. I'll have my tailor do up a nice pair 'a slacks for you. A good shirt too. You want a hat?" He took the one off his head and put it on hers; it smelled like pomade—pine, and was large enough that it slid down her brow and almost covered her eyes. "There you go. Get some suspenders, a pair of oxfords, you're looking sharp."

"Mister Fernandez—"

He kept on going. "I'll get you a gun. You want a Tommy? You got it. Prefer a Colt? Sure. Anything you like. And if anyone says a thing, it'll be dealt with."

She had to give him points for tenacity. She pushed up his hat and looked at him from beneath the brim. "That sounds illegal."

"That sounds like people should be shutting their trap."

Erza never doubted that Jellal was dangerous—you didn't become the primary weapons dealer in a place like Magnolia because you were sweet—but he'd never scared her before, not like he did then. She put her back ram-rod straight and took off his hat. Her do was messed up now, little pieces of scarlet flying away out of the knot of bobby pins she'd created. She didn't fix it just in case he thought she was trying to impress him. "My answer's the same as it was the first time you asked me."

Jellal didn't look deterred. "I'll keep at it until you change your mind."

"I won't."

"Things change."

"Not this."

"Time will tell." He smiled and Erza's stomach did something weird she wasn't fond of. She stood. "No more roses to the constabulary."

"As the lady wishes."

"Goodbye, Mister Fernandez."

"I'll hope to see you tomorrow, Miss Scarlet."

"Not likely, Mister Fernandez," she sang as she approached the door on the opposite side of the room, over a floor made of Birchwood, honey-coloured and clean. Laxus Dreyar, Jellal's right-hand man, opened the door for Erza with a smile that made her want to pull her gun and fill him in. She would never make it out of Halo if she dared. Besides, that wasn't what a good constable would do. "Mister Dreyar."

"Scarlet." Laxus followed her out. Though he loomed over her shoulder, he never said a word. Erza was okay with that, men who talked were men who were trying to distract and that's when they did things she didn't like, like pull a gun and put one in her chest. She listened to his walk over the now concrete floor. Nothing was irregular about his footfalls so she assumed she was okay. It helped, she supposed, that Jellal was openly sweet on her. Unless she messed up and his men were ordered, she didn't think any of his cronies would try to shoot her.

Only a couple of lights guided her and they were magic in nature, for with every step she took from Jellal's meeting room, one of the orbs would burn out behind her, darkness chasing her back. She reached a wall with the light of just one orb in tact. Laxus came up beside her and felt along the wall's edge. He depressed something and the wall sighed and eased back, letting the cool night in.

"Need a ride home?"

"No," Erza said.

"Not everyone's going to be intimidated by that piece you got." He nodded to her leg; so much for pulling the wool over his eyes. "It's still dicey for a lady like you out there."

"As long as you're in here, I'm sure I'll be just fine. That means no one's setting me on fire tonight."

Laxus developed a bland expression and she knew her joke wasn't well received. "If you're talking about what happened with that worm Tearm, he was cruisin' for a bruisin'. You don't lie to the boss, pretending like you're one of us just to get some dirt, and just walk away."

Erza smothered her nervousness. "You don't burn a man alive for it, either."

"He needed to be taught a lesson."

Ruthless; she'd expect no less from Jellal and those that served him. "It's been a pleasure, Mister Dreyar."

"You sure you don't want that ride?"

"Maybe next time." Erza deked past him and came out into the alley behind Halo. She could see the exhaust from Gray's old pickup and that was it, the rest of the truck was hidden behind the brick wall that was the bakery called Missus Anne's beside Jellal's infamous restaurant. She walked quickly and missed her slacks; they didn't confine her legs like this dress did.

Just before rounding the corner, she cast one last look into the alley. Laxus was still watching her, though he'd put his back against the wall and kicked his leather-clad foot up. He had a weed in his mouth and the smoke was curling over his head. He waved and she didn't wave back.

The door of Gray's truck creaked and people watched her, curious of the girl in the evening dress climbing into the rusty old farm vehicle. Erza slammed the door closed and Gray asked tentatively, "How'd it go?"

"He says he's got a man in the constabulary," Erza griped.

Gray looked at her sharply. "Did he say who?"

"What do you think?"

He blew out a breath. "Doesn't seem to matter what changes, this town's still crooked."

"I suppose when you have the money, you can buy the way it bends," Erza replied.

Gray didn't much like talking about how much money Jellal had. He didn't say it aloud, but Erza knew he was this side of jealous. "Did you talk about the flowers?"

"Yeah. He said he wouldn't send them anymore."

"Good."

"Yeah."

"You still should have let me go in and talk to him. Halo isn't very safe."

"I've never organized a funeral," Erza said while looking out the window. "Wonder what that'd be like?"

Gray got the point and worked the truck into drive. It always stuck, no matter what he did to it. "Being Marie Windsor's gotta be a hard gig."

"Being her boyfriend has got to be a whole lot better," Erza said sarcastically.

Gray pulled away from the curb. "I'm just saying, there's a reason why the femme fatale dies at the end. She takes too many risks."

Erza said, "I already caught Mister Fernandez's eye. It's not like hiding in the shadows while my man handles things is going to make him go away."

Gray looked over. "Sorry. I'm just worried, Erza."

"I've always handled myself," she replied succinctly.

"I don't want you to have to." He had a peculiar lilt to his voice that Erza wasn't sure she liked. "Not on your own."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Move out of your mom's house."

She squinted her eyes. "And go where?"

"My place."

Erza laughed. "My mom would never let me just—"

"Then marry me."

"What?"

Gray talked fast. "I make enough at the constabulary to take care of you and your mom if you want to move her in, too."

Erza took some time to process. "You're serious?"

He looked away from the road again. His grey eyes looked black by the lights of passing cars. "Don't say it like that."

"Like I don't know if you're joking or not?"

Gray turned the corner onto Erza's street. He did well to hide his sigh as he slowed in front of her house, the small brick bungalow her mother had purchased with her husband's insurance money months before Erza was born. "Think about it."

Erza tangled her fingers in her dress. "The only thing I've ever wanted to do was be a constable."

He looked pained. "I know."

"I'm not going to give it up."

"I'm not asking you to. I'm just asking you to come home to my place at the end of the day." He spoke again before Erza had the chance to. "I don't need an answer right away. Talk it over with your mom if you like." He nudged the curb with the truck's front tire and edged it into park. When he turned to look at her, Erza's stomach was doing another strange flop. She didn't like how unsettled she felt that night.

Erza said the only thing she could. "Alright."

Gray leaned over and brushed his mouth against hers and she felt the same thrill she always did, only now it was overshadowed by his question and she didn't know what to think, much less what to feel.