a/n: This is my first Fairy Tail fic and I'm still trying to get used to writing the characters so I apologize for any OOC-ness etc. Constructive criticism is always welcome but please be nice! That being said, I really love FT and I have a ton of ideas for various pairings depending on how my first foray fares ^^ Please leave a review to tell me what I'm doing right, and what I'm doing wrong, and what you liked or didn't like … though hopefully you'll like it all! This is planned out as a two (maybe three) part oneshot but that really rather depends on the readers! So, if you think this is worth continuing be sure to let me know.

Warning: At the moment this is rated T but the eventual rating will be M so I'm posting it as such from the beginning. If you don't like, then don't read. Consider yourselves warned.

Disclaimer: I do not own Fairy Tail – that honor belongs to Hiro Mashima so please don't sue me; I make no money from writing this so I can't afford lawsuits!

Queen of Drunks
Part 1

The barrel was empty far too quickly for Cana Alberona's liking. She glanced around; the comforting chaos of Fairy Tail raging gently around her and once she was sure no one was paying her the slightest bit of attention, she quickly leaned backwards, dropping the empty barrel behind the counter. Casually, she straightened before she called out to Mirajane who was busy delivering mugs of beer to the rowdy tables that littered the hall as if dropped by a petulant child who had grown bored with his toys.

"Hey, Mira," the silver-blonde head turned inquisitively in the brunette's direction, "I'm grabbing another barrel." Before the other girl could say anything Cana added defensively, "It's only my second one today."

"Mira! Hey, Mira. Can we have another round over here?"

"Are those for us, Mira-chan?"

A cacophony of voices all clamouring for Mirajane's attention cut off whatever she'd opened her mouth to say in reply to Cana's statement and the dark-haired girl could only sigh in relief. She hated the time-span between shipments of liquor. Seriously, these people had no appreciation of the effort she put into making sure there was always enough alcohol to go around …

The barrel was reassuringly heavy in her hands; how she loved the smell of the oak it was made of, the slight tang of fermentation that clung to the wood. It spoke to her of dark, damp cellars and at the moment there was no place Cana would have loved to be in more; hiding in a cellar surrounded by the only thing in the world she could rely on sounded about right to her.

With deft movements of nimble fingers the cork popped out of the barrel and dark hair flowed silkily down her back, just brushing the counter-top, as she tilted her head back and took a long, long swallow. For the first time in a long time, Cana cursed her unnatural resilience to copious amounts of alcohol. Just this once, she'd have really liked to get rip-roaring drunk off nothing but a couple of mugs of beer. As it stood, she was going to need a hell of a lot more than the three empties stacked behind the bar, out of Mirajane's line of sight, and the current one she cradled in her arms.

A sigh stirred the lengths of hair that rested over her face as she laid her head down on top of the barrel, still clinging to it like a life-line.

Men.

From her father, right down to the last snivelling excuse for masculinity; the entire species baffled her. But one man in particular was responsible for her current state, and how Cana wished the bastard was in front of her so she could tell him exactly what she thought of him. Cowardice, that was all it was. For all his brave, if perverted, talk with his buddies he was just so terrified of what could be that he'd rather date some … some over-the-hill divorcee! How could he not have known how she felt? All she'd ever wanted was a chance; it wasn't like she thought it was true love or some kind of connection of souls or anything like that … it was just that she'd have liked the chance to see if it could be something more than a prickling of caring and a spark of attraction.

Seriously, she wasn't that much younger!

But, no, apparently Macao really was as oblivious as she'd always thought he'd pretended to be.

Another deep swallow, one slender hand wiping across her mouth, the tip of her tongue swiping across her lips to ensure not a drop was wasted, and Cana grimly decided that the next time Loke showed his face in the guild she was going to kick his ass for all the incredibly useless information and tips he'd fed her over the years. What use was being a playboy if you couldn't come up with marketable techniques?

"I'm going to really kill that flame-breathing bastard one of these days."

The harshly groaned words, along with the thump of his head hitting the polished surface of the bar brought Cana back to her surroundings with a jolt. Gray slumped next to her, head resting on the bar, as he sprawled on the stool. Tiny icicles formed on the surface of the bar as he blew out an exasperated breath and closed his eyes.

On any other day Cana would have laughed sympathetically, maybe even asked him what Natsu had done to piss him off this time, and, once she'd teased him back to good humor, they would have proceeded to comfortably drink themselves into a stupor; talking about everything and nothing the way only really old friends could ever manage. But today, just this one time, Cana felt completely justified in ignoring her friend's need in favor of her own.

"That's hardly anything new, Gray."

Keeping her head down, eyes firmly fixed on her task of re-stoppering the barrel, Cana allowed her hair to mask her expression as she hoisted the barrel over her shoulder and slid off the bar.

"See you," she mumbled vaguely in his direction as she headed for the door. Clearly she was going to have to take her drinking elsewhere if she ever intended to get a moment of peace in which to brood.

Cool fingers closed gently around her free wrist, effectively pulling her to a halt.

"Hey, what's up?"

The concern in Gray's voice was exactly what she'd been afraid of; the reason why she'd been going out of her way to avoid her childhood friend. Ever since news of Macao's plans for the evening had become common knowledge around the guild, she'd been afraid of seeing Gray. He, better than anyone, would be able to read the confusing welter of emotion she was trying so desperately to hide.

Carefully, she shook her hand until he had no choice but to let go, "Nothing. Just not feeling very sociable today. I'll see you later, okay?"

Without waiting for a reply she quickly strode towards the front door, half-holding her breath but as soon as she was outside, in the cool evening air and it became apparent that Gray wasn't following her, she relaxed.

Now, to find some place to be left in peace…

Aimlessly, Cana wandered down the sidewalk, wondering where she should go. She didn't want to go home … drinking by herself in an empty apartment smacked too much of the alcoholism she was regularly accused of … the glimmer of the river in the moonlight caught the corner of her eye and the hazy picture of a river-bank, hidden behind the rise of a grassy knoll, flashed before her eyes; Erza had been fond of hiding there when they had been younger but as far as Cana knew it was a private spot. With sudden purpose she pivoted on one heel and strode off in the direction of the river.

Hours later, even Cana had to admit that maybe she'd over-estimated her resistance to alcohol. Four barrels of beer was nothing, not to her, but four barrels of bourbon was enough to get past even her defences. Comfortably she stretched out, flat on her back, her head cushioned on her arms, and enjoyed the feeling of the world spinning around her, as she stared at the sky through hazy eyes. It was rare that she got to really enjoy being drunk, but today she fully intended to take advantage of her inebriation.

With a sigh, and vaguely contemplating that drunk words were sober thoughts but deciding that she really didn't care, she admitted to herself that, more than anything else, it was her pride that stung. For years, she'd been subtly (and not so subtly at times) throwing hints that she wouldn't be adverse if Macao suddenly decided to make a move, but despite her - and Loke's – best efforts, the older mage had remained elusive. In all the years Cana had known him he'd never gone on a date, never shown more than superficial interest in an attractive woman, and she'd honestly thought she had it in the bag. He could only resist his baser urges for so long, right? To then realize that she'd been studiously ignored for years, despite her looks and her youth, only to lose out to someone twice her age and already past her prime … Not only that but to find that Macao had known the woman all but a few hours before he'd asked her out … when he'd been resisting Cana's charms for years … well, it had stung.

For just a moment she'd wondered if that was all the cards had in store for her… lonely evenings spent by herself in an empty apartment interspersed with the odd one-night-stand. The thought had been too depressing to bear, so she'd reached for the alcohol to try and drown it into oblivion. Only that had got her thinking; denial was a beautiful thing, after all and it was so much better to be angry at Macao.

But now, hazy with drink, and suddenly glorying in truth, Cana couldn't help but admit that she just really hated losing. Why was she always on the losing end? It wasn't fair. She'd never asked to be an incredibly powerful S-class wizard's daughter, hadn't asked to be surrounded by such ridiculously talented people that she couldn't even complete a stupid test by the fourth time she took it …

"There you are!"

The thoughts cut off before she could work herself into a proper alcohol-induced bout of misery but it still took Cana a moment before her befuddled senses realized the voice that had interrupted her impromptu pity party was speaking to her. Slowly, she tilted her head backward, glassy eyes meeting Gray's blue ones. The ice mage stood over her, hands on his hips and a frown on his face.

"God, Cana. Do you have a death wish? You can't just go getting drunk and passing out wherever you feel like it! One of these days you'll really get yourself killed!"

The harsh words and harsher frown was softened by the twitching corners of his mouth and Cana smiled happily up at him.

"Ahhh, Gray, don't go spoiling my fun." The words were only slightly slurred and Cana beamed another proud smile up at her friend.

"Only you would be proud of only slightly slurring," he sighed as he dropped down to sit next to her, arms braced on his bent knees, legs spread and intertwined fingers dangling between them. "I'm serious though, Cana. Don't do this, please. If you want to get drunk you can do it at the guild or at your house, or mine, or any of our friends' – just don't go looking for trouble like this."

"Awww, you were worried!" Cana giggled as she pushed herself to a sitting position, only to find that it made the world spin worse than ever and not in a pleasant way. With a low groan she slowly dropped her head onto her friend's shoulder, closing her eyes until the worst of the whirling stopped.

"Yeah, we all were when you didn't come back."

His breath stirred strands of hair that had fallen over her face and Cana smiled slightly at the cool caress of air his words washed over her temple; strange how comforting she found that.

"You worry too much."

"And you don't worry nearly enough! Last time you were lucky Lucy found you! And I don't even want to think about what could've happened if I didn't find you this time – you do know that anyone could've found you here?"

"You'll find me. You always have."

The words were drowsy and suddenly Cana wanted nothing quite as much as she wanted to sleep. Her head drooped further, her suddenly boneless body unable to support her and with a small moan she allowed her head to slip off Gray's shoulder to rest on his chest. The metal of his necklace dug into her cheek uncomfortably and she moaned again as she wriggled closer, forcing him to lean back so she could find a more comfortable position.

"One day I won't."

His voice carried more than a little warning but Cana merely smiled, her eyes closed, as he slid an arm beneath her knees. Her arms lifted automatically to wrap around his neck as he picked her up bridal style and carried her up the hill.

"And that worries me, Cana."

The moment Gray lowered Cana's feet to the ground at her apartment door, she slipped her key into the hole and swayed her way to the kitchen; all the while ignoring Gray's grumbled complaints about how she was sure to have a beer-belly one of these days, that she weighed as much as if she already did. Four glasses of water, chugged in quick succession while Gray locked her front door and switched on the lights, did the trick and, despite the stumbling run, Cana made it to the bathroom in time.

More muttering accompanied the cool fingers that gathered the strands of her hair away from her face as she threw up into the toilet, but she only closed her eyes in grateful acceptance. Despite popular belief Cana hadn't been born a natural drinker, it had taken lots of practice to get to the level of endurance she had, and she was well versed in all the tricks. Enough water to combat the hangover was the key – sometimes, like tonight, she was lucky enough to be able to get it all out of her system in one fell swoop and she was grateful for the fact. She didn't need the monstrous hangover that was looming on top of everything else.

Finally, she sat back, legs splayed beneath her shuddering form and the fall of hair that swooped down to hang in limp strands around her pale and sweaty features was the only warning she had that Gray's legs were no longer bracing her back; she quickly placed her hands on the tiles below her, and tried to ignore the sickening way the world spun. A glass of water was pushed unceremoniously into her hands and Cana took a grateful sip, swirling it around her mouth before spitting that into the porcelain bowl of the toilet as well and pulling the handle again. The rest of the cool liquid was downed in one gulp as she shakily closed the lid and pulled herself up to sit on the toilet.

"Shower…" was all she managed but miraculously Gray only turned to twist the knob for the hot water without a word. When he judged the water to be a reasonable temperature, she was pulled to her feet and matter-of-factly divested of her clothes. From far away she was aware of his averted eyes, the slight blush that tinged his pale cheeks with rosy color and she smiled gently as she pushed past him and stepped under the spray. Her eyes closed in ecstasy as she rested her forehead against the cool wall-tiles and allowed the water to pour over her head. The sound of the shower door shutting alerted her to the fact that Gray was leaving but she was too exhausted to really care; she'd thank him in the morning. Maybe. If she didn't just decide to pretend that the entire thing had never happened.

The water worked wonders, it always did. After a few minutes she could almost feel the mists of drunkenness withdrawing from her senses and Cana quickly washed before the water ran cold. When she finally emerged, swathed in a towel and wreathed with sweet-smelling steam, her wet hair combed back to drip onto the floor as it dried, Gray was stretched out on her bed. His clothes formed a small mound on the polished wood of her floor but Cana decided to forgive him for comfortably stripping to his boxers when she spotted the mug of steaming liquid he'd placed on her bedside table.

She sank down next to him, leaning against the head-board and cradling the warm porcelain between her still-shaking fingers.

"Hangover averted?" Gray finally broke the silence.

"Yeah," another sip of the heavenly caffeine, a slightly awkward pause followed by a rush of even more awkward words, "and thanks. For helping me – taking care of me, I mean. I didn't mean to make my friends worry."

"I'm just wondering what could've happened to make you worry us like that." The words were soft, not whispered, but absolutely devoid of any emotion – merely a query that she could take or leave as she saw fit.

Cana sighed. Keeping things from Gray was never quite like keeping things from anyone else. Before Lucy, he had been the only one to know the secret of her parentage. After years of friendship Cana had imparted that piece of information during a drunken moment of bad judgement but she'd been relieved, afterward. She'd hated having secrets from him and he'd proved her right in her trust of him, over the years. He would've taken her secret to the grave if she hadn't ever taken the step to telling her father. Even after she had, he'd never said anything to indicate that he'd been privy to the information before anyone else. That was the problem with having friends like Gray, Cana reflected bitterly, it made you feel guilty when you kept things from them – no matter that it really wasn't any of their business.

"Macao went on a date tonight," she finally stated through gritted teeth, replacing her mug on the table to avoid looking at the man stretched out next to her. She felt the reverberations of the mattress though, as he stiffened and stared.

With as much dignity as she could manage, Cana stood and walked to the small closet that housed her clothes. An old pair of black and grey chequered pyjama bottoms she'd stolen from Gray years ago was quickly pulled over her hips followed by an oversized black t-shirt. As she pulled her wet hair through the neck of the shirt she finally chanced a look from beneath lowered lashes; he was staring at her speculatively.

"So you got drunk?" something lurked in his tone that she didn't want to examine, "that's not like you, Cana. I mean, the drinking is, yeah, but … you don't give up and one date isn't a wedding ceremony. So, what's with the dramatics?"

She gritted her teeth, this was exactly why she hated telling Gray anything excessively personal; he had a way of going right to the heart of the matter when she really didn't want to discuss it.

"I guess it just finally got through to me that he wasn't interested and never would be and that sort of stung," she allowed, picking up her mug of coffee again and pacing restlessly up and down as she drank in short, agitated sips.

Gray snorted, "Don't try the heartbroken crap with me, Cana. I've known you too long – you mean your pride was hurt. What I don't get is why you didn't just break into his house and seduce him instead of getting drunk and wallowing in self-pity about whether you'd gotten ugly or something."

Luckily the last of the coffee had been drained seconds before Gray had opened his mouth because he'd barely finished the sentence before the heavy porcelain flew in a straight arc towards his head. Only his quick reflexes saved him; ice encased the cup mid-air and it fell harmless to the bed.

"Gray!" She managed to make his name both an indignant shriek and a curse.

"What? Are you insane – that could've seriously hurt and after I took care of you and everything!" he shouted back, leaping to his feet, suddenly tense fingers going for the waistband of his black boxers.

"Stop!" Cana yelled and his hands stilled, "God, fine, you're right, okay? Happy now? Just don't strip, for heaven's sake!"

She sank down onto the bed, suddenly miserable for no particular reason she could divine, and curled her legs up to her chest, arms wrapped protectively around herself.

"I don't know, okay? I don't know why I didn't do something. He looked happy and I didn't want to spoil that and suddenly I couldn't help but wonder if it was ever really about Macao as a person and if I wasn't just subconsciously looking for a daddy-substitute."

Silence greeted her words and Cana buried her face in her knees, until she felt the hand on her shoulder and the dip of the mattress as he sat back down too.

"I also kind of wondered about that," he admitted quietly.

As if the words gave her the courage to speak, the flood-gates opened, "I mean, suddenly, I looked at Macao and there wasn't even really attraction there anymore, you know? Suddenly he was just my friend that finally seemed to be getting on with his life and I was happy for him, but not the least bit sad for me, and I didn't know how to deal with that after all this time of chasing after him."

Blue eyes, darkened and shiny with suppressed tears, bored desperately into the eyes of her friend.

"What if that's where I'm headed, Gray? What if, all my life, I'm going to be chasing after unattainable older guys simply because I didn't have the courage to talk to my father before I was grown up enough that the damage to my psyche had already been done? Worse, what if I land one of them only to find out years from now that I'd gotten over my daddy-issues and I'm trapped in a relationship I don't really want?"

"Cana! Stop!" Gray took hold of her shoulders and gave her a small, firm shake. "You're freaking yourself out for no good reason. You're not like that, okay? It won't happen."

"How do you know?" she refused to acknowledge the edge of desperation that lurked in her words.

Slowly, Gray let go and sat back, a slight smirk playing around the corners of his mouth, "Because you've never had a thing for any other older guy and you've already proved that you like guys your own age just fine."

The blush ran like wild-fire across her somewhat shell-shocked features; shameless was how Cana would usually describe herself but even she had her limits – some things were meant to be buried in the past. She gaped at Gray as the blush faded and she scrambled to recover her equilibrium. Finally she decided that there was no point in running from the comment, "Gray, I thought we agreed never to talk about it. There's no point in rehashing the past."

One dark eyebrow rose smoothly as he stared calmly back at the suddenly nervous girl, pleating the comforter between her fingers and said levelly, "We did. But I think you need to remember, Cana. For your own peace of mind, if nothing else."

She dropped the crumpled fabric as if she'd been burned and hurriedly moved to the edge of the bed.

"Okay, fine, I remember. Point taken."

The blush burned the tips of her ears again at his low chuckle from behind her and she gritted her teeth to keep from uttering more panicked words.

"Ashamed, Cana? Or embarrassed? Neither is very like you."

The chuckle turned into a quickly suppressed laugh at the way she sat straighter with every word he uttered, a nearly visible shudder running down her spine.

"Gray, please, don't do this –″

The sudden levity ceased and she was unceremoniously yanked back, one hand firmly curled around her wrist and the other tilting her chin and holding her in place so she had no choice but to look at him. Despite the rough handling his voice was almost gentle as he spoke and Cana furiously bit the inside of her cheek as if that could help her to stop hearing his words.

"You've got some or other ridiculous idea that you've developed some kind of complex because of your father when nothing could be further from the truth. You have issues, sure, who in Fairy Tail doesn't? But you don't need to create non-existent ones for yourself, too. So, I think that you need to, just this once, remember. You need to remember when you were sixteen and tipsy and curious…"

Long lashes formed dark half-moons on her burning cheeks as Cana closed her eyes, unable to look at him any longer; his fingers fell away from her chin but she didn't move.

"Cana, look at me," his voice was thickly laced with exasperation as he sighed and grabbed her hand. Cool fingers twined around her own and hesitantly Cana opened one eye then the other; the judgement she feared wasn't present in the clear gaze, no blame, nothing except vague amusement.

"I was just drunk and curious as you were. You've got to stop beating yourself up about it! We were stupid, yeah, but no harm done as the last two years clearly attest so what are you still getting so worked up about?"

"I shouldn't have thrown myself at you like that," she finally muttered in return, eyes falling to her lap and her agitatedly twisting fingers, "but since you insist on bringing up things best left forgotten: I apologize, okay? I didn't mean to take advantage of you like that."

The groan was accompanied by the squeaking of the bedsprings as he fell back against the pillows one hand dragging through the dark, spiky bangs that fell over his eyes.

"That's what you've been thinking all this time?"

"Well … you were drunker than me…"

"God, Cana, I can't believe you're making me say this; I didn't mind, okay? You didn't take advantage of me and, no offence, but back then you sucked at being seductive. You didn't make me do anything I didn't want."

Her eyes rose just in time to see the grimace that flashed quickly across his pale features and Cana allowed the hope to bloom fully.

"Really?"

The grimace was gone as if it had never been, replaced by a smirk that quickly grew into full out amusement as he grinned down at her.

"I don't need to kiss you to prove it, do I?"

A shriek of embarrassed laughter quickly followed by a pillow hurtling towards his head was the only answer he got, but as Gray grabbed a pillow of his own in retaliation he allowed the satisfied grin to spring to life.

Crises averted.

a/n: Thoughts? Comments? –peeks at readers from between fingers-