The Cana Conundrum

She had first caught his eye at that bar in Crocus. He couldn't exactly pinpoint which one it was. All he remembered that it was crawling with Fairies. He had wandered in in the midst of their celebration. He paid no heed to their questions. He devoted his attention to the woman surrounded by barrels of beer.

She was stunning. A dusky woman with a tall stature and heavily lidded eyes, he personally found that she resembled an Egyptian goddess. But it was her musky, alcohol ridden scent that drew him to her like a moth to a flame. And that was where it all began.

He challenged her to a drinking match. Again, he ignored her companions' warnings. She slurred her surprise at his proposal, but she accepted nonetheless. She thought it would be just another walk in the park. He grinned wolfishly. It was clear that none of them had ever heard of the Drunken Falcon.

Needless to say, she didn't win. He never expected her to. Though in actuality, for the briefest of moments when her eyes sparkled and he felt the alcohol starting to take control of his consciousness, he believed that he might actually lose. But she was down in a few seconds. He was impressed. No one had even come as close as she had.

A victory is a victory, and so he claimed his prize. It was stupid and not something a real man would ever think of doing. But he wasn't in the right state of mind, thanks to the toxins. Her bikini top slipped of easily, revealing a bountiful pair of breasts. Not that it covered much in the first place. He twirled it around his nimble fingers. Her guildmates cried foul and rushed at him in an attempt to avenge her honour, but he swiftly knocked them out.

He tensed slightly when they threatened him with the wrath of Gildarts Clive, a household name for most all mages. What was his relationship with the girl? Clive was known for being promiscuous, and now that he thought about it, she did seem like the type. The thought of having defiled the woman of one of the most powerful mages in existence caused him to shudder. And then Erza appeared, and he had to put on his usual cocky air.

The evening passed without him knowing her name.

The rest of the Grand Magic Games passed without her once crossing his mind, and he was humbled by his defeat to one of the more underestimated members of Fairy Tail. His weapons, his hands, were damaged very badly, but it was nothing that couldn't be healed. That did not ease the blow to his ego, and so he watched from the side-lines in silence. His team would not shut up about being called Quatro Puppy.

The first time he did find out who she was, it was during the MPF challenge. After Erza's momentous triumph, not many people were paying attention to the back-up event. When the rules were explained, he pegged it down as Jura's instant win. He wouldn't lie, Nobarly was kind of pathetic.

The names weaved in and out of his ear. Some stood out. Obra's was too low for him to not be suspicious. The powerhouses Orga, and most especially Jura, crushed their opponents.

It was her turn. Cana Alberona, he heard. He regarded her with some interest after recognizing her face. Again, he didn't expect too much. A high three-digit to a low four-digit at maximum.

Then she went and broke the damn machine.

His face broke out into one of his mad smiles. Perhaps there was more to her than meets the eye.

And he took it upon himself to find out whether or not that was true.

Bacchus had learned that when doing puzzles, it was best to start around the edges. Those pieces were the easiest to identify, with straight sides. They served as the outline of the whole picture. And so that was what he did in the process of figuring her out.

"Mind if I join you guys?" a familiar voice said to him and his group of wild things. He looked up to find her standing on the ledge of the pool, clad in nothing but lacy underwear. It wasn't like it revealed any more than the other bathing suits worn at Ryuuzetsu Land that day, but she was still undoubtedly one of the hottest girls there. He decided she was one of those practical people who didn't think there was much of a difference between bikinis and lingerie.

He nodded coolly, unashamed of his panda-themed rubber floatation device.

The other boys were immediately taken with her. She had a very lax, very easy going personality. While utterly feminine, she was a one-of-the-boys kind of girl. They had fun, up until the crazy Fairies wreaked mayhem on the place and it was reduced to nothing but shambles and unconscious bodies. He awoke to find her sprawled across his chest, and he didn't mind in the slightest.

It was a long period of time before he had the chance to meet her again. The Daimatou Enbu culminated in tragedy, mayhem, horror and death. It all turned out okay, thanks to Fairy Tail. Barely a year back and they've returned to saving the world.

Months passed after the Grand Magic Games fiasco. He had just finished up a mission, and was about to treat himself for a job well done at the nearest bar he could find. He strolled in, slapped the money on the counter and gave the bartender a look that clearly stated 'don't keep me waiting.'

Halfway through his twenty-seventh –or was it? He had lost count –a busty brunette took the stool next to him.

"Well, well. Look who it is," he said without bothering to check. Definitely her.

She had a hard, determined look upon her face. She slammed her own cash on the counter so loud that the whole pub had quieted down and watched. She didn't care. She only had one thing in mind.

"Rematch."

They were at it again, but that time around, she came back with a whole new level of force. He would have paused for a moment just to appreciate the sight of a woman with her figure chugging down endless mugs of beer. But he had a competition to win, so he settled for peripheral vision.

He figured they could call it a draw, because the next thing he knew he had her pressed up against the wall, trailing hot kisses down her neck.

They could have called it a one night stand since they pursued no romantic relationship in the morning or in the days after. Yet they had kept in contact. They sought each other out for company whenever they had the time. He landed himself a new bar hopping buddy, and he was sort of glad for the change. He hadn't the need for lonely nights anymore.

Cana was fun; she was hilarious, and game for anything exhilarating. She was genuine and alive. And she definitely knew how to have a good time.

"Don't they realize that I can hear them?" Bacchus wondered aloud. A gaggle of females had caught sight of him and started giggling obnoxiously, pointing at his back and whispering none too quietly. Though he had to admit, the attention stroked his manly pride.

"Beer consumption can make you think you're whispering when in fact you aren't," Cana said wisely. They had another round of snickers, accompanied by another round of shots. Another reason he loved hanging out with her was because she said the most profound things even when sloshed.

"A hamburger walks into a –hic –bar, and the bartender says –hic –sorry, we don't –hic –serve food here," she finished gracefully. He winced. It was open mic night at the bar they had chosen for the evening. He should have never let her up there.

But the people roared with laughter and applause, probably because they were all more intoxicated than she even if she had more to drink. She gave a tipsy bow and shakily walked off stage. Bacchus got up to help her down.

"I'm a comic –hic –genius, aren't I?" she slurred, and at this he laughed jovially.

"That you are." They settled on a comfortable couch. They talked for a while, exchanged stories on their latest jobs and happenings in their respective guilds without revealing too much. Even under the influence, they understood that well enough. He excused himself to the bathroom for just a quick while, but when he returned, she was surrounded but numerous admirers.

"Here's thirty jewels," a particular slob said, offering her money. "Drink until I'm really good looking, and then come talk to me."

"Baby, you put the 'hot ass' in my shot glass."

"I'm not drunk, I'm just intoxicated by you."

He didn't notice this before because all other males were afraid to approach her with him nearby (or perhaps he did notice, but didn't really care), but she was a coveted beauty. It was easy to see why. She didn't seem to mind the attention. In fact, it looked as if she revelled in it. And that was what made his blood boil.

He lost it when a passing man purposely spilled beer on her just to use another pick-up line.

"Hey baby, did you just take a shower or is it me that's making you all wet?"

Another thing he learned that night was that she was a woman who could handle herself.

Sure, after seeing her blast that MPF machine, he had no doubt in his mind that she was powerful. But at that moment, she was smashed. Even the strongest of mages were vulnerable when caught in that state.

And yet before he could intervene, she took her Tarot Cards out of her shoulder bag.

"Sleep," she said sluggishly. The card glowed and in a flash all of her suitors fell to the floor. She noticed him standing there dumbfounded and winked at him. She walked over the bodies, carelessly treading on a few limbs and fingers.

"Let's go home, Bacchus." And he complied.

That was only the beginning, but he was getting somewhere. He was finished with the outside of the picture, and it was time for the harder middle bit.

They had another one of their challenges, and for the first time ever, she had out-drank him. She had let out a cry of victory, only to find him whizzed out with his eyes in spirals. It was a short lived celebration.

She was forced to take him home that night. His house was too far away, nearer Quatro Cerberus's territory, but it was too late for them to take the train and she didn't know how to use transportation magic that far. She resigned to taking him back to her own apartment.

He sure was an interesting fellow. How could anyone as dead drunk as he still be able to tenderly cradle a bottle of whiskey in his arms?

He nearly gave her a heart attack as she guided him up the stairs.

"I love you so much," he mumbled, slung against her. "I could never live without you."

She stopped in her tracks, mind reeling. "Is that you or the alcohol talking?" she questioned with raised eyebrows.

"It's me talking to the alcohol," he said. To prove his point, he gave his bottle a big sloppy kiss. She laughed and breathed easily once more.

When he woke up the next morning on her couch, comfortably tucked in with a blanket and a generous number of pillows, he concluded that she was a loyal friend to be trusted.

Bacchus became a more frequent guest at her place after that. Cana complained about having to feed him, but was happy just the same.

He let himself in one day, using the spare key she had bequeathed to him. It had come in handy many times when he was too lazy to commute or when she was too piss drunk to open it herself. Ever since they had begun spending time with each other, their alcohol intakes were pushed to their limits.

She wasn't sprawled out on her couch indulging in wine and soap operas like he expected. A delicious odour drifted his way and he followed his nose to the kitchen. There, he found her clad in nothing but her bikini top, shorts, and an apron. He had seen worse, but it was getting uncomfortable for him.

Instead of suppressing is desire, which would no doubt lead to it growing, he quickly walked over to where she stood. He wrapped his arms around her waist and whispered in her ear.

"What's for dinner, wifey?"

Cana snorted and nudged him away from her. "Go make yourself useful and boil some water." Wordlessly, he complied. He knew that she knew that that was about the only thing he was capable of doing.

After filling a kettle with water and putting it on a stove, he continued to stare at her. Now there was something he didn't see every day. Cana Alberona flew around her kitchen, her hair tied up in a tight bun, cooking with utmost concentration. She would probably qualified as a Yamato Nadeshiko if she wasn't so… Cana-like. Bacchus started to quietly chuckle.

She noticed his shaky breaths as his laughs became louder. She turned around and he was clutching his gut, eyes tearing up. She frowned and placed her hand on her hip.

"I seem to recall being the one chopping the onions, here."

"You… cooking dinner… look like my mom," Bacchus managed. He was barely coherent. He sunk to the floor, rolling around. One of the strongest S-Class Wizards in Fiore was convulsing on the floor in a fit of giggles.

"Surely you didn't expect the food you eat here all the time to just have poofed out of thin air?" she demanded.

"It's just… You're Cana," he wheezed. He pounded on the tiled flooring with his fist, and the chandelier in the apartment beneath hers fell. She shook her head and joined him.

"Yeah, well, I had to learn to take care of myself when I was really young. Couldn't eat at the guild all the time, even if it would have been free for me. My alcohol bills are enough."

"What about your parents?" He was aware that they were delving into a sensitive topic. Most mages were orphans. But he was truly curious, and he would be lying if he wouldn't admit he wanted to test how far he could go with her without getting into trouble.

"Mom died when I was about six. I headed off to Fairy Tail in search of my father, but I didn't have the guts to tell him who I was until recently. I didn't think I would be good enough for him."

That had cleared up some things. He had noticed that she purposely closed off being truly, truly vulnerable around men. Even around the men of Fairy Tail she called brother, she was careful to remain guarded even when intoxicated. Daddy issues. He should have known.

"Who is your father?" he asked interestedly.

"Gildarts Clive." She felt a surge of pride at finally being able to call herself his daughter.

Bacchus choked on his own saliva. "H-he's your father?" She nodded in affirmative.

That night, he decided that he would have to be on his best behaviour the next time he visited her guild. Just in case Daddy Dearest decided to check up on his precious Cana. He was determined not to let it slip that he had shared a night of drunken passion with his only daughter.

Realizing that he was in love with her was an epiphany that, like most, came as he was sitting on a toilet with his pants pooled around his ankles.

As a mature adult, Bacchus wanted to waste no time in telling her how he felt. It was a better strategy than acting all tsundere about it. Why waste precious seconds?

He thundered up the stairs of her apartment, fumbling with his key to her loft as he arrived upon her doorstep. Before he could twist it into the keyhole, the door swung open. She donned a black dress that stopped at her knees, with her hair knotted elegantly at the back of her head. She was dressed formally, if dully.

She looked quite surprised to see him. "Um, Bacchus, this isn't really a good time. I'm kind of on my way to someplace –"

"I'm in love with you."

She remained unfazed. She had heard this exactly a twenty-four times in the past, five in which he turned out to be talking to an inanimate object. "You can lie down on my couch until I get back; you know where I keep my aspirin."

"No, I mean it. I haven't had a drink in almost two hours. I'm in love with you, Cana."

She leaned against her doorframe. "Really now? And what do you want me to do about that?"

He blinked. He hadn't really thought about that. "Um… say you love me back? Become my girlfriend? Bear me ten kids as we retire in a house with a white picket fence? Or some shit like that."

"Sounds lovely. I'll have to pencil that in after my tubal ligation," she chortled.

He gave a sigh of frustration. "I'm being serious here, Alberona."

"So am I," she shot back. "Look, Bacchus, I love being your friend. I love hanging out with you, I love drinking with you, and you know what, I actually love you, you big lug. But I'm not really a commitment type of girl, as I'm sure you've pieced together."

He had, but he was still too stupefied from that one section of her speech to give a witty response. "When you say, you 'love me,' do you mean that in a platonic sense or in a 'I will bear you ten kids as we retire in a house with a white picket fence' sense?"

She rolled her eyes. "See you in a bit, Bacchus. And don't eat the ravioli." Before he could say anything else, she used one of her cards to teleport the heck out of there. She vanished into thin air, right before his eyes. Huh. He didn't know she could do that.

After hours of looking, he found her in the cemetery. Her hair fell into her downcast face, as she stood facing the grave of who he presumed was someone she held dear. He laid a comforting hand on her smooth, bare shoulders.

"I'm quite curious. I did you find me?" she said hoarsely. It sounded so different from her usual rich and tempting alto.

"Your guildmates. They're quite worried for you as well, although they didn't look too in the dark."

"Bastards." He followed her line of vision to the grave-marker. Cornelia Alberona. "It's the anniversary of her death."

He only nodded in response. He too understood loss, but he suspected not quite as much as she did. "What was she like?"

"I don't remember." With a lightless azure eve, he could clearly see the shine of her tears. "I don't remember a thing. Except for the fact that she loved me very much. And that's another reason I can't commit to you, Bacchus," she said, finally turning to face him.

"Expound," he said, in a tone gentle but resolute.

"I love you, okay? Not in the platonic sense. In the sense that I think your happiness is as sweet and bubbly as champagne, that your insults as bitter as vodka, that our moments are as pungent as wine, and that you're beer. You're wonderful, mind-fucking beer.

We can't be together because I wouldn't want to be with anyone else. And one thing would lead to another, and you'd want to get married and start a family, and I –"

"–have no idea how to do that because your parent's marriage was a wreck despite the fact that they loved each other, and you have no mother figure to base your parenting on if ever we procreate, and you secretly hate babies," he finished. "That's exactly what you were going to say, right?"

Cana was astounded. He smirked.

"I think you're just playing hard to get, Cana. We aren't even in a relationship and yet you're skipping ahead to our little kidlets. Have you named them yet?" Bacchus teased.

"Castration and Dismemberment sound adorable, don't you think?" She buried her face into his chest. He never wore a shirt, just those weird armour plated sleeves. "I like you better when you're drunk."

"That's great. Sobriety is an anomaly when you're talking about me."

"About us," she corrected with a coy grin. He smiled. He understood.

Figuring out Cana Alberona had stopped being a game long ago; on the night that they had physically became one. Life was a game, but she wasn't. When a puzzle stops becoming child's play, it becomes a picture of art. They fit together like the right pieces of a jigsaw which was finally coming together.

She stood on tiptoe to press her lips against his. His mouth smirked against hers as he drew her closer, entangling his hands in her thick, dark locks.

"There's something pretty kinky about making out in front of your dead mother's grave," she breathed as they separated for a gasp of air. He pressed his forehead against hers.

"Do you think she would have liked me?" Bacchus mumbled. Her gaze travelled over his shoulder. Cana's mouth twitched upward.

"I don't think she's the one you have to be worried about."

"GET YOUR FILTHY HANDS OFF MY DAUGHTER, YOU SHITTY, PERVERTED BRAT!"

A/N: I'm a weirdo. I don't even ship this (FORGIVE ME LAXANA), and yet here I am, posting this story instead of doing mon devoir like I should. Well, I hope you liked it! That was the most random shit ever, like, legit. Loved it? Hated it? Tell me through a review, which I will cherish regardless of whether it be positive, negative, or a scorching hot flame.

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN FAIRY TAIL.