"Well? What do you think of this one?"

"It's fine."

A sigh. "Are you still sulking, Natsu? This is your own fault you know."

The boy in question raised his head, and pouted sourly at the source of his discontent.

Lucy, having finally finished changing (for like the millionth time!), stood outside one of the store's dressing rooms with an unsympathetic look on her face. She was modelling a seventh dress, this one a simple red number with a large cloth rose the same colour as his hair at the waist, and had her arms crossed over her chest in a way that reminded the Dragon Slayer scarily of Erza. It was the very same look she'd given him when she'd demanded he bring her to this torture chamber of a shop; an expression that would brook absolutely no argument on his part.

But that didn't stop him putting up a defiant – if frail – passive-resistant front.

"I'm not sulking," he mumbled grouchily, averting his eyes huffily.

Having actually taken some time to properly check her out this time, Natsu was more than a little irritated to find that she looked exceptionally hot in her new apparel – something that, for some unknown reason, just made this long, drawn-out crushing of his soul all the more excruciating.

"You totally are. And I'm glad," Lucy stated matter-of-factly, nose in the air. "Maybe now you'll learn to exercise a little restraint when you throw those flames of yours around, hm?"

Natsu winced. Of course. How could he forget? The reason he was being held against his will in this crazily over-priced boutique was because of his own damn carelessness. Well, that and Gray's idiocy. Honestly, if Sir Ice Pole hadn't been such a dick, Natsu wouldn't have had any cause to throw that fireball at him. So technically, this was all Gray's fault.

Then again, there was no denying the fact that if Natsu hadn't been totally legless when he'd thrown it, he probably wouldn't have missed. That Lucy hadn't been anywhere near them when he'd hurled the fireball was truly a testament to the mighty inebriating powers of alcohol.

Needless to say, his friend and team mate had not been impressed. True, the fire he'd thrown hadn't been strong enough to actually do much damage – again, thanks to the mind-numbing affects of alcohol – and Lucy had escaped largely uninjured (he was sure those blisters would heal right up with a little ointment; he'd even been so kind as to offer to help her apply the stuff, but for whatever reason she'd taken great umbrage to this and kicked him squarely in his unmentionables).

But the same could not be said for her clothes however, which had been singed during the incident and, according to Lucy at least, were now damaged beyond repair.

Hence the shopping trip.

Natsu had it in good confidence that in his drunken stupor he'd vowed to by her a new outfit. Worse, he'd stupidly neglected to put any limits on this offer – such as a price range or a time limit. The result being that he was having to suffer through his hangover in the harsh light of day, miserable in the knowledge that he was going to be returning from this hell considerably poorer than he was when he entered it (which was saying something, as he'd been running low on funds after that last drink fest anyway).

"So I'll ask again, and this time I want you to answer like you mean it." Lucy did a little twirl for him, ending in a weird school-girl pose that she probably thought was cute – which it kinda was, but not for the reasons she was thinking. "How do I look?"

Natsu considered his options, eyeing her speculatively from the brown leather pouffe he'd been lounging on for the last hour and a half. He could tell her the truth – that her thought she was positively smoking in that dress, and he was finding it difficult not to look at the long, creamy expanse of her legs beneath the swaying fabric (or indeed, her ample cleavage spilling out over the low v-cut neckline).

But the problem with that was that Lucy was Lucy – she would probably take the compliment straight to her head and God knew she was vain enough without his help. That, or she'd mistake his honesty for sarcasm and give him a good beat down, which he really couldn't handle just now.

He supposed he could always downplay the truth a little. Be complimentary enough that she wasn't completely insulted (which would definitely end in a royal ass-whooping), but not too much so as to inflate her already massive ego. He'd have to choose his words carefully though. Even supposing she didn't beat him up, she might end up giving him the cold shoulder. Or worse, crying.

Natsu hated it when she cried.

"You look..." he started cautiously, testing each word on his tongue. So far so good – he didn't detect any murderous vibes as of yet. "good," he finished triumphantly, proud of himself for thinking of a positive word with no real emphasis behind it. "You look good."

The effect was instant. The sparkle in her brown eyes faded, a deadpan expression replacing the vibrant smile she'd donned but seconds ago.

Aww crap.

Natsu braced himself – she was going to hit him, he could just feel it. He had a vision of himself tangled and disoriented in the rack of cast-offs behind him, Lucy standing over him with that same evil presence Erza had. He'd never had a nack for fortune-telling magic, but he saw this future coming at him like a runaway train.

After a few seconds of silence, Lucy sighed. She closed her eyes and shook her head in exasperation, spinning on her heel and marching back into the changing cubicle without a backwards glance. With one last scathing look over her shoulder, she whipped the curtain back into place so fiercely that the pole holding it rung.

Natsu groaned in dismay. Great! The silent treatment.

"Aww, c'mon Luce; it was a compliment!" He stood and approached the curtain, even though doing so made his stomach heave and his head pound. He didn't quite dare to open it (she'd kill him for sure!) but he figured he'd get points for doing something. "It was a compliment, Lucy!"

"No it wasn't!" she yelled back, apparently forgetting that the thin strip of material separating them wasn't exactly soundproof. "'You look good' is something you say to terminally ill people to make them feel better! Jeez Natsu, if you don't like it just say so – there's no need to be such a jerk about it!"

The Fire Dragon Slayer blinked in confusion. What the-?

"But I do like it! I said so, didn't I?" Maybe this was why Erza was often smacking him around for no good reason? Maybe in Girl World things were all opposite, and 'good' actually meant 'bad'? "I said 'you look good' and that's what I meant!"

There was a snort of derision from behind the curtain. "That'syour idea of a compliment? Whoa, try not to pull a muscle there Casanova."

Now later, when he was recovering in Fairy Tail's infirmary, Natsu would maintain that what happened next was a lapse of sanity on his part. A deadly mixture of hangover symptoms, short-lived anger and yes, perhaps even slight testosterone overdrive from seeing Lucy all dressed up, had obviously made him temporarily lose all sense of self-preservation.

But he would also relay, to his enraptured (and very large) male audience, that every bruise and broken bone he'd received after the incident had been totally and utterly worth it.

In his irritation – despite having already observed that to do so meant certain annihilation – Natsu ripped back the stupid curtain with a sharp retort on his lips. Something about how annoying it was that he couldn't say something as harmless as 'you look good' without his motives being questioned or some such... he couldn't really remember, because when he drew that material back, any wit he might once have possessed fled from him.

He supposed he was lucky that she'd only just managed to get the zip down on the dress, and that the worst (or best) he'd seen was the smooth, silky curve of her spine and just a tiny, tiny bit of her butt (which, of course, he adamantly denied, even as she summoned Virgo and had her beat the stuffing out of him).

And he might even have been able to salvage the situation if, in those first few critical seconds, he hadn't been too busy staring speechlessly and unabashedly at her uncovered flesh.

Natsu, for as oblivious as everyone seemed to believe he was, was not completely ignorant of Lucy's womanly charms. He'd often thought to himself in some of his quieter moments, albeit briefly and never with any real passion, that Lucy was pretty. She had a bright smiley face, sparkly brown eyes, and hair like melted gold – not to mention a killer rack and a very nice ass. Sure, he'd noticed all that the same as everyone else had. But it had never been about that where he and Lucy were concerned; it had never been about her huge boobs or her curvy hips or even her beautiful smile. Lucy was Lucy – funny, smart, strong, kind and so much more besides. The other guys could call him whatever they wanted, but for him what was inside Lucy was way more important than anything on her outside.

Of course, it was extremely difficult to remember that when she was standing right in front of him in such a provocative manner.

"Natsu."

Lucy's voice, trembling with rage, broke him out of his reverie. Panic flowed in thick and fierce, and he scrabbled for something – anything – that would disperse the coming storm. Naturally there was no such reprieve to be had.

"Open! Gate of the Maiden! Virgo!"

He suffered quite a beating that day; a beating the likes of which he'd never received from another person (or spirit) without fighting back before. Even so, bandaged to the nines as he was, Natsu was still the envy of every hot-blooded Fairy Tail male that evening – even the Master visited him in the infirmary to hear his retelling of one of the most glorious moments in his young life.

And as for the dress business... Well, Lucy had him buy all seven of the dresses she'd tried on that day. As penance for being a 'dirty, little pervert'. And that, the blow to his wallet, hurt more than the beating if he was honest...

"But it ain't all bad!" he told his gathering emphatically, as a chorus of sympathetic groans erupted around his bedside. "If I'm outta money, Lucy and me will have to go on a job together, right? We're a team! And anyway, she won't be able to refuse after all the stupid jobs I've helped her do to get rent money." He grinned slyly. "In the heat of battle, who's to say whether I burned her clothes off on purpose or not?"

The gathered men of Fairy Tail all clamoured with jealousy, but they nonetheless hastened to congratulate and offer words of admiration to him.

"Natsu, you dog!" Macao chuckled, slapping his back.

"So bold – you're a real man, Natsu!"

"You'd better be careful, flame-brain – she might get serious and really kill you next time," Gray sneered, though it was clear to everyone he was just as impressed with Natsu's audacity as the next guy.

"Yeah, that would really suck. I've always thought of you as a friend, Natsu, so I'd hate it if Lucy sicced me on you," Loke piped up, agreeing with Gray. Nobody bothered to ask what the Celestial Spirit was doing there – or how he'd managed to slip into the world (and even the very guild headquarters!) of his owner without her noticing for that matter. After all, he had his ways.

Natsu just laughed. "There are worse ways to go."

No one could very well disagree with that.

Incidentally, Lucy never really found out why – after that fateful shopping trip – Natsu's aim with his fire spells suddenly became exceptionally bad for a Wizard of his magnitude. She suspected. But she never found out for sure.

And the infamous Salamander wouldn't have it any other way.