Hello everybody ! I’d like to say a BIG thank you to @nonochuu for beeing here and orchestrating graylu week so greatly ! Thank you for beeing so active and caring about the event *^.^* !! A big thank you to all the participants ! Even if you were less than last year you were there!!
So thank you and congratulations to everyone who made GRAYLU WEEK 2017 a joyful event. Oh and let us know if you have late fanworks and you want us to reblog them. Well… see you again, dear graylu family!
ヾ(゜∪゜★)ノ゛・:*:・｡₀: *ﾟ✲ฺβyё βyё✲ฺﾟ*:₀
Special thanks to: @handsome-kakigori , @oujo-heartfilia
A - E || @anorielthiliedis (tumblr + FFN) , @becausewhenyoupracticeyouimprove
Lucy sighed as she watched the vendor across the street restock his flowers. Their shapes were beautiful, some still buds and others blooming with maturity. She often watched as men stopped by the stall, leaving with a bouquet of flowers each time. The roses were popular. The vendor always sold them all, men often leaving disappointed if they came past a certain point in the afternoon.
Lucy, the aspiring novelist that she was, liked to imagine different scenarios the men would buy the roses for. Roses had different meanings based on their color, and Lucy liked to guess what color each man bought and for whom. Her mind was filled with romantic proposals and secret admirers. She was a romantic at heart, longing for the day her soul mate would walk into the little book store she worked at and bring color to her life.
She was a classic beauty, long blonde hair falling down her back and huge golden brown eyes bringing attention to her face. Most people had made the bet that she would meet her soul mate by the time she was eighteen. How could she not? She was kind and beautiful. Everyone who knew her loved her. Some called her an everlasting dreamer, but there was nothing wrong with that. She had an active imagination that needed to be set free, and what better way than to envision the stories she committed to paper?
She was twenty-five now, almost a decade past the age she herself had expected to finally begin her life as a woman who no longer saw everything in grey.
She never gave up hope like some of the women her age who had settled down with people who were not their soul mates. She stayed true to the belief that you would meet them when you were supposed to. Lucy liked to think she hadn't been ready for her soul mate at eighteen. Maybe they hadn't been ready for her.
Still, Lucy longed for the day that someone would bring her roses.
With a small sigh, Lucy focused on the inventory she was supposed to be imputing. Customers came and went, most looking for books by well-known authors. Lucy forgot about her soul mate woes as she dreamed of finally making it to the top of the bestseller's list.
Well, first she had to actually publish a book.
Lost in her head, Lucy didn't hear the door to the book shop open. The black haired man didn't spare her a glance as he went straight to the reference section. It took him ten frustrating minutes to find the book he needed. He walked up to the counter, slightly annoyed that the blonde manning the register had her back turned and didn't even seem to notice him. Looking around, he sighed as he realized she was the only employee in the shop.
He cleared his throat, causing the blonde to give a little scream and spin around to face him.
Lucy opened her mouth to scold him when she noticed it.
His shirt was blue.
Lucy didn't know how she knew this, she certainly hadn't seen the color before, but she did. His shirt was blue, his hair was black and he was looking at her with his mouth hanging open.
He was perfect.
Her heart pounded as they drank each other in. She had never given up hope, and here he was. She'd always thought that when she was finally able to see color that she would have eagerly soaked up all the shades she hadn't been able to before. Now that it was finally happening, all Lucy could do was stare at the man she was going to spend forever with.
Laughter from outside brought the two out of the world they had slowly sunk into, one where no words were exchanged but their eyes had said it all.
She held her hand out, a sunny smile on her face. "My name is Lucy."
He took her hand, keeping his eyes on hers as he brought it to his lips. "Gray."
Lucy always thought that Gray was like winter, cold and dark but it can be jolly and beautiful sometimes. When she shared her thought with him, he mocked her.
“You know what Gray? You’re like a winter to me.”
“Tch! So I’m quiet, harsh, depressing, dark, cold, icy, bitter…” Lucy immediately covered his mouth with her hand to stop his words.
“Stop it, Gray! Yes, you can be so cold when you want to, but that’s not what I mean!”
Gray tilted his head slightly.
“Winter is misty, sparkling, white, indoor, toasty, peaceful, cozy, snowball fight, ice skating, blankets, long nights, and much more. So winter can be jolly and beautiful too.” She pronounced it one by one with her eyes shining.
Gray smirked. “So you think I’m beautiful, Lucy? I prefer if you think I’m handsome though,” he laughed at her.
“What?! No! I…”
. . . . .
His train of thought stopped when a bunch of snow fell from a tree branch and hit his boots. He jerked backward and his back touched a big tree behind him. Gray shook his head weakly and continued his walk.
While walking, his mind wandered again.
“Sorry, we didn’t tell you sooner, Gray…”
“She always wanted to look best, look healthy, in front of you.”
“It’s not fair!”
“Please don’t look at me like that, Gray.”
“Thank you for always making her smile.”
The raven-haired guy paused as he fixed his woolen coat. He climbed the stone steps to the top of the hill. It was late afternoon and the sky was already dark. He stepped carefully by looking straight ahead.
Step
“Is that you, Gray? You came to see me?”
Step
“You look dashing in that uniform, officer!”
Step
“Promise me you’ll take better care of yourself, okay.”
Step
“Just hold me, please…”
Step
He arrived at the top of the hill. Not far from him, he saw a tombstone filled with bouquets of flowers and stuff.
“Apparently they’ve come here before me, huh!” he whispered bitterly.
Gray stood stiffly in front of the tombstone after placing the hot beverage he was carrying. “Hi Lucy, how are you? I brought your favorite. And I…” He cleared his throat before pulling something out of his coat, a flower crown. Gray carefully placed it on her tombstone. “I made this for you as you did for me when we first met.”
A few minutes of silence passed with snow falling slowly to the ground. And the sky grew darker but it didn’t faze him. Instead, he shifted a bouquet of flowers from one of their friends and sat next to her, as if he wanted to enjoy the snowy landscape with her.
He took a sip of the lukewarm beverage after glancing over his side. There’s a sad smile on his face…
Graylu Week 2017 ~ Chapter 5: Too Cold to Hold, Part II of III
fanfiction by impracticaldemon
Words ~ 2550 | Also available on FFnet and AO3
Author's Note: Another story in which each chapter has more parts than expected. Welcome to Part II of "Too Cold to Hold", which is now going to be Part II of III. Part III is already partly written, however.
~Impracticaldemon
credit for cover image to Milady666 on DeviantArt [Link] & tumblr
Chapter 5—Too Cold to Hold, Part II
Prompt: Fragrance (still for Graylu Day)
Lucy went out the closest door, teeth automatically clenching as the cold hit her like a solid force. She started walking around the big chalet, staying close to the wall for protection from the wind and snow, and so as not to get lost. She couldn't make out either Gray or his footprints, but that wasn't surprising under the circumstances.
She started calling once she judged that she was under their window. "Gray! Gray!" There was no answer, but the cold was increasing, which Lucy took as a sign that the snow spirits were nearby. She took a few careful steps away from the wall and then a few more, keeping the lit window directly behind her. The light had a slightly pink tinge to it which she assumed was Aries' fluffy seal on the inner window. There was suddenly a bright glitter ahead of her and a burst of magic. She stopped walking and cupped her hands around her mouth.
"Yo, Ice Princess! Get your ballgown-covered ass over here!"
"What the hell—Lucy?! Dammit."
A dark shaped loomed up out of the swirling snow and Gray was suddenly in front of her, looking oddly beleaguered. He was naked to the waist, which wasn't unusual, but his whole body was rimed in frost, turning his blue-black hair to dark-streaked gray. Even as he stepped closer to Lucy, she noticed something she'd never expected to see—he was shivering.
"You look cold," she said, then immediately felt ridiculous. They were standing in the middle of a snowstorm, after all, and he was only half-dressed.
Mind you, it was still better than blurting out her first thought, which was that he looked totally amazing—like some kind of Northern battle god facing off against the hordes of Winter itself. He carried a blood streaked sword in each hand, and it took Lucy a long moment to realize that the blood—Gray's blood—wasn't just contained within the weapons the way it usually was. She'd seen him make such weapons before, and it always made her shudder, since it looked so painful. This time, though, the weapons looked as though they were weeping gory, crimson droplets.
"Gray—what are you doing?!"
His response was a little slow in coming and sounded slightly slurred. "They can only be driven off by blood—at least, that's what I was told—doesn't kill'em but sends'em away. There's a lot of 'em though. Also, they're, um, somehow condensing the blood out of the ice, so I keep having to add more."
Lucy heard a faint buzzing noise over the wind, and then it felt as though the temperature dropped several more degrees. She huddled inside her coat, trying to come up with a quick solution. Gray took a deep breath, as if to steady himself, and then set his swords in motion. It was a little bizarre watching a man fight a cloud of snow. With his own blood.
"Did you find out why they're here? And angry?"
"Um, I don't speak snow spirit—do you? Like, I was trying to keep 'em away from the chalet, not enjoy a nice gossip." His sarcasm would have worked better if he hadn't sounded so winded.
"Hmm." Lucy considered her celestial spirits and then took out the gold key for the goat, Capricorn. Loke might be useful against angry snow spirits, but he didn't seem like the right choice right now for several reasons.
"How may I assist you, Lady Lucy," Capricorn asked a moment later. He was standing closer than usual and Lucy felt her neck crick as she struggled to look up at him. Like Aries, he had a light dusting of snow on his clothes and in his hair. She was about to ask why he had appeared almost on top of her, but then realized that he was standing between her and the knot of bitter cold that denoted Gray's assailants. Somehow, he blocked the worst of the chill.
"Oh I see," the tall celestial spirit commented, after studying the situation for a few seconds. "There are an awful lot of them, aren't there?"
"I can't see them," Lucy admitted. She suddenly felt embarrassed about the question she wanted to ask. Oh well, nothing ventured, nothing gained. "Capricorn, would it be possible to find out what they're upset over?"
Capricorn did an excellent imitation of a butler being flustered by an unexpected request—which is to say that he remained politely expressionless. "I can certainly make the attempt, at least," he told her.
In fact, the angry knot around Gray began to dissipate, and she saw him stagger slightly. She reached out for him but he shook his head at her. "I'm fine," he insisted. "And I don't want to hurt you by accident." He gave Lucy a tight, pained smile, and flexed his fingers. She suddenly realized—as she should have known—that the swords were fused with Gray's hands.
"Well, you'll look very sexy and heroic as you collapse into the snow," she told him, snapping slightly out of concern.
"Sexy's good…"
Lucy saw Gray's head turn and his stance shifted back to battle-readiness. She winced as fresh blood seeped into his ice weapons.
"I believe I have some understanding of the problem, my lady," Capricorn said at that moment. "If you could just stand still, Mr. Gray…"
"They're about to attack again," Gray told him wearily. "And honestly, I need to get this over with sooner rather than later."
"What have you found out, Capricorn?" Lucy tried to ignore the fact that she could barely feel her fingers.
"I could only get the gist of it, I'm afraid—linguistic and cultural differences being what they are between the celestial and elemental realms—but essentially I think there has been a major misunderstanding."
"Okay, what have we, or they, misunderstood?"
"They were hoping that Mr. Gray would come out to play with them like last time. Also, I believe they were impressed with the blood offering and now consider him a, er, member of the colony. As it were."
"I—wait—what?!" Gray was shaking his head. "I was taught that if you let any kind of gathering of snow spirits too close to your home, first you'd be cold and then you'd be dead."
"Yes, that is what would happen," Capricorn said gently. "You see, like most forces of nature, they don't really understand living beings. They no doubt find ice magic quite—how can I put this?—appealing. So they wanted you to leave the chalet and create more of your delicious cold."
"Delicious cold?" Lucy frowned. "Like food?"
"Not really, but close enough."
"But Lucy sensed danger or evil intent or… or whatever!" protested Gray. "Wanting to play is like, I dunno, a snowball fight or something. Not having a good time watching your new buddy die of hypothermia or bleed out or something!"
Lucy shivered, only partly from the cold. She was beginning to grasp the problem and how everything had gone wrong.
"So the snow spirits, or cold spirits, or whatever they are—they don't actually hate ice mages, they love them... literally to death." She thought for a moment and then added: "That's actually quite consistent with how most stories about the Fair Folk go—lots of tragic endings for people who forget that they just don't think the same way as humans."
Gray was staring stubbornly off into the snow, presumably towards the snow spirits. Lucy pretended not to notice that he had finally given up the weapons and was now trying to stop his cuts from bleeding. His next words dispelled the notion that he hadn't paid attention, however.
"So you're saying that the humans have had it wrong from the beginning. But why does the blood drive them off then?"
"It doesn't; or rather, it doesn't actually kill them. It's just that"—the elegant celestial spirit looked embarrassed—"well, most magical pacts used to be ratified in blood." He forestalled Lucy's next question with a slight sigh, "Including pacts with celestial spirits, of course. We've evolved since. The point is that everyone seems to understand that shedding blood is important. And Mr. Gray's theory that using blood within a magical weapon makes it more effective against spirits and magic and so forth is quite correct. So once a human starts bringing blood into something—well, either they're done playing with you or they're agreeing to something of grave significance. I suppose that somehow context determines whether it's a case of 'get lost or I'll hurt you' as opposed to 'I'm signing my life away.'" He cleared his throat. "I'm just putting a number of different theories together, you understand. Speaking with earth-bound spirits is always… challenging."
Lucy thought for a moment that Capricorn was actually going to sneer—he would have managed it well—but instead he maintained his calm expression and shrugged.
"So how did I somehow make a blood offering?" Gray demanded, coming back to immediate concerns. "I mean, I hear what you're saying in a general way about snow spirits and everything else, but as I mentioned, Lucy sensed malevolence—or just something bad—earlier, and I've never in my life been swarmed like that."
"You have found a way to fuse ice, blood and magic, Gray-san. You're fascinating to them—I think. At this point I really am just guessing. As for the ill-intent felt by Lady Lucy, I suspect that what she really sensed was the danger of you going out to meet such potentially—if accidentally—lethal playmates. She's really extremely talented."
"Don't need you to tell me that," muttered Gray. "So what do we do now? I guess you got them to hold off huh?"
"I told them that you were angry. They are—for lack of a better word—apologetic. Also, they are quite impressed that you have found a suitable wife." Gray stared speechlessly at Capricorn, and Lucy choked. The celestial spirit smiled gently at them. "They are suitably impressed with Lucy-sama's power, since she was able to summon me. They are curious how long it will take for there to be offspring."
"We're not even engaged!" Lucy and Gray spoke in unison, faces now flushed with more than cold.
"Ah. Well, they assume that Mr. Gray became angry because they inadvertently interrupted the, ah, mating ritual."
Lucy turned away with her hands over her face. Gray couldn't tell if she was laughing, crying, or just couldn't take the embarrassment any more.
"And to think I believed this would be a good place to gets away from it all!"
"Shall I tell them that the matter is resolved, Gray-san?" asked Capricorn gently. "Perhaps you could send a small token of friendship."
"Such as what?"
"I understand that your ice sculpture is quite talented."
Without another word, Gray brought his hands together, ignoring the half-healed cuts, and formed a perfect, long-stemmed ice rose. Lucy regarded it suspiciously, but he had apparently opted out of using blood to add colour.
"I see that you left the thorns on," she commented.
"It's how I was taught," Gray muttered, holding out the lovely crystalline flower to Capricorn. "Will you pass this along with my um, best wishes or whatever?"
The celestial spirit nodded. "I believe that this will be the end of the matter, at least for now."
"For now?" Lucy asked suspiciously. Gray's face echoed her question.
"Well… they are hoping to see your, er, offspring in the future." Capricorn's face was perfectly neutral. He bowed politely to Lucy. "As are the rest of us, of course." Without another word, he walked into the thickest patch of swirling snow, held up the ice rose, and then vanished.
The snow seemed to thin within moments, changing from waves of madly careening flakes to a more normal—and distinctly warmer—slow fall. The two humans let the flakes settle on and around them in silence.
"We should go in," Gray said at last. "You need to warm up and I want to help."
Lucy stared at him. "After all of that—not to mention learning that something important that you've known to be true since forever is completely wrong—all you can think about is"—she broke off, suddenly unsure how she wanted to complete that sentence.
"Well, yes," her boyfriend told her, tipping her chin up and stealing a snowy kiss. "You see"—he lifted her into his arms, since she wasn't moving—"you're pretty amazing, and I was just reminded that not only are you sexy and smart, you're a kick-ass mage." He paused halfway to the side-door to crush his mouth against Lucy's, and she found her arms winding themselves around his neck entirely of their own accord, fingers tangling in the back of his damp, snowy hair.
Time passed, and then Gray suddenly raised his head, eyes narrowing. Lucy wanted to protest, but the words died unspoken when she felt the drop in temperature and sensed that they weren't alone. The chill scent of snow under a clear night sky full of brittle, winter stars somehow overrode everything else.
Instead of setting her on her feet so that he could fight, Gray pulled her in closer to his chest. He frowned at the densest swirl of snow.
"Oy! We don't need an audience!"
The cold intensified for a moment and Lucy thought she heard or felt a rustle akin to laughter. Then the cold and the presence—presences?—withdrew, leaving behind a gloriously detailed snow sculpture of Lucy and Gray. It glistened with ice, apparently impervious to the admittedly mild wind.
"Um." Words failed Lucy. The people represented in the sculpture were noticeably short of clothes, their bodies twined together in a passionate kiss. They seemed very… happy.
"Oh gods." Gray squeezed his eyes shut. "I—I don't know what to say."
Suddenly Lucy burst out laughing and Gray looked at her in surprise. After a moment, she'd subsided to giggles. "You have pornographic snow spirits!"
"Hardly!" Gray hugged her, relieved that she wasn't upset and ready to defend his… what had Capricorn called them? His colony. "It's a trifle risqué, I grant you…"
"I think they may be doing more than kissing."
"Well, it's not really clear—and you're staring." Gray narrowly avoided a smack to the top of his head. "Besides, they live beside a, a romantic chalet. Maybe it's just what they're used to in human behaviour. Maybe they're just very open-minded. Maybe—"
"Let's go in."
[END of PART II]
A/Note: See you with Part III soon! As always, any comments, reviews, thumbs up, etc. are very much appreciated!
Thank you also to those who are taking the time to check out my other stories. :)
fanfiction by impracticaldemon
Prompt: Fragrance (written for Graylu Day, only 20 days late)
Words: ~2600 | also on FFnet and AO3 under impracticaldemon
Summary: Gray and Lucy are slowly but surely working out life as a couple. This story follows some of the prompts of Graylu Fluff Week (Feb 2017) and some of the prompts of Graylu Week (Sep 2017). In Chapter 4, a romantic dinner in a snow-bound chalet-hotel becomes fraught with both conversational pitfalls and angry snow spirits.
Author's Note: With apologies for the delay and hoping that you'll enjoy chapter 4 of this combined Graylu Fluff Week and Graylu Week story! With particular thanks to @nonochuu for all of her support and gentle nudges. Thank you also to those who have commented, reblogged, bookmarked and just generally sent encouragement my way on FFnet, AO3 and tumblr. I'm grateful to all of my readers.
Chapter 4—Too Cold to Hold, Part I
Prompt: Fragrance (for Graylu Day)
Gray had eventually put on pajama bottoms and a fitted t-shirt that was either midnight blue or black (whichever it was, Lucy had approved). Not that he had wanted to "get dressed," as he'd put it, but even he had felt that boxer shorts and nothing else probably wasn't appropriate attire in which to fetch their dinner. His girlfriend had forborne to comment that his loungewear might not be exactly what the kitchen staff had in mind either.
He returned with several dishes, ranging from steaming soup to dome-covered entrées to some kind of towering cake and cream and fruit concoction that was clearly a special dessert. The warm part of the meal was carefully balanced on two large trays, but the dessert—in all of its frothy, bedizened glory—was being held aloft by ice.
"They were pretty impressed with my carrying capacity," he commented, as Lucy took one of the trays so that he could negotiate the doorway. "Plus the way I could keep the dessert chilled."
"No kidding." Lucy was laying out their dinner on the low coffee table with rapid efficiency. She nodded approvingly at the dessert, which Gray left sitting on a table of ice in the window embrasure.
"Yeah, they offered me a job waitering, if wizarding didn't work out." His mouth quirked into a smile. "Don't worry, I told them that my carrying skills were okay, but that my patience for obnoxious customers wasn't the best."
Lucy pointed him to one cushion and took the other, folding her legs under her and sniffing appreciatively at the soup. "Itadakimasu," she murmured politely, word and action somehow coming naturally in this lovely room, with a fine meal in front of her. (1)
Gray looked surprised—the guildhall wasn't exactly famous for good manners with food, and he had fallen out of the habit a long time ago. And yet… dim memories of childhood—first with his parents and then Ur—resurfaced with surprising clarity, and he automatically copied Lucy. It was strange: in almost any other setting, or with any other person, he might have resented the formality—or at least the memories evoked—but here and with Lucy it was just right. His mind skittered over the thought that this is how one might behave in one's own home with one's own family.
"This is really good!" Lucy smiled at Gray with unfeigned pleasure. "Oh, and I was about to say—I'm quite sure that your waitering skills would be just fine if you weren't forced to wear a dress." Her smile turned a little roguish, as other scenes evidently replaced the dress episode in her mind's eye. "In fact, I'll bet you'd be quite an attraction in a butler's outfit—or maybe just the pants and a bow-tie?"
"Uh-huh." Gray reddened and suddenly felt a need to concentrate on his soup. When he looked up again, he saw Lucy looking at him quizzically, her own cheeks a little pink. "It's just kind of weird," he told her, "hearing that from you instead of, you know, Mira or Cana. Or Erza, when she's gotten way too into one of our jobs."
Lucy nodded. "I know what you mean. But for what it's worth, I have thought it before. And with Mira and Cana, it's mostly impersonal. Or at least it applies to everyone—guys, girls, whoever they need to dress up at any given moment. Or just for fun." She paused, and then added darkly: "Their fun, I mean."
Gray switched to his main course, smiling when Lucy glared momentarily into space. She was obviously contemplating past injuries. To be fair, Fairy Tail's loveliest and most notorious hostesses did seem to derive a bit too much pleasure out of interfering with the lives of others. Mind you, he wasn't going to complain about having seen Lucy in a variety of bikinis, bunny suits, and gowns—but he wasn't going to comment on it either. At least, not right this minute.
Loke probably would though… He quickly tried to get his mind off that train of thought. No sense in being jealous of Lucy's bond with the guy who just happened to be the leader of the celestial spirits of the Zodiac. Well—no point in dwelling on it, anyway. He and Loke would just have to reach an understanding about grabby hands not being okay. No problem.
"Gray?"
"…Sorry Lucy!" Gray was startled to realize that there was frost crystallizing in the air above his hands. "Um…" He glanced down, relieved to see that he was still dressed. That meant he'd only been out of it for a couple of moments.
"I guess you've had to deal with the dynamic duo for even longer than I have—is that it?" Lucy's tone was completely sympathetic. She knew that Gray wasn't the best with being pushed into things, although he tended to be a team player.
Gray wavered between an easy lie and a complicated truth. "Kind of?"
Sympathy faded to concern. Lucy set down her chopsticks. She used chopsticks or metal cutlery with equal facility, and her familiarity with all sorts of food and customs periodically reminded her team-mates that her upbringing had been that of a pampered—if lonely—little girl. Gray recognized that his mind was going off on a tangent again.
"Okay, you'll have to explain 'kind of'," Lucy said firmly.
"I wasn't actually thinking about Cana and Mira just then, but it's true that I have had to deal with them for a long time. I mean… they're not much older than I am, so I've known them since we were all kids. Hard to believe now, right?"
Lucy regarded him thoughtfully. "Is this one of those 'better not to go there just now' moments? Or one those 'better get it over with' moments?"
Gray scrubbed at the back of his head as a substitute for stripping off his t-shirt. Although maybe Lucy wouldn't mind. He forced himself to talk. "You're very attractive, in a lot of ways, to a lot of people. It's one reason it took so long to tell you how I felt—feel."
"Okay…" Lucy frowned slightly at him. "So it's one of those 'figure out what I'm thinking because I'm too embarrassed to tell you' moments." She took a mouthful of food and chewed thoughtfully.
"Yeah, you're right. Pretty lame." Gray finished the rest of his entrée, barely managing to stay on the right side—that is, the polite side—of Natsu-speed.
"You always seemed much too indifferent—or too cool—to be really jealous of anyone," Lucy mused. "Except that I understand about Natsu."
Gray threw up his hands in surrender. "Fine, I was just thinking that I might want to have a chat with my buddy Loke." He shrugged. "And I have definitely had my moments of jealousy."
Lucy's face was unusually hard to read. Then she gave him an apologetic half-smile. "I guess there are just still… things… to talk about, right? Or to sort out, or something. I figured—the two of you have always been friends, you know?"
"I know. And being friends means that I know how he thinks."
"Yeah, I think most us of know that," said Lucy, a little dryly. "He's probably just as interested in you as he is in me. Not that I really know—I try not to, um, pry too much. I mean, he was seeing Aries—or so I thought—but…"
"Yeah, exactly. But…" Gray shook his head. "Honestly, it was just a stray thought. Loke's just a little too 'hands-on' for my taste."
"Or maybe it's the way he periodically makes passes at me?" Lucy inquired, appearing to relax now that she knew what was wrong. Her eyes were bright and cheerful again.
"Right, it could be that." Impulsively, Gray took Lucy's hand across the corner of the table. "And it's been such a pain, since I've been trying not to make passes at you."
"Oh? Didn't you mention something earlier about, um"—Lucy turned a little pink again, but persevered—"wanting to take me to bed? Are you saying that wasn't—"
"It was the hot chocolate talking."
Lucy rolled her eyes. "Talk about lame."
"Fine, pour me another glass of wine." The proprietor had insisted on tucking a bottle of red under Gray's arm to share with 'his lovely lady' over dinner.
"I don't think you like it much," the 'lovely lady' murmured, filling his empty glass as requested. He'd gulped the first glass rather quickly.
"I prefer beer to wine, but this isn't bad." Gray took a careful sip. "Besides, I figure we can each stand to broaden our horizons."
"Okay, but what idiot makes his non-beer-drinking friend try something called 'Hobgoblin'?"
Gray winced, but chuckled. "At least they were out of Guiness. That stuff will peel paint."
"And that's a selling point?"
"Heh, no—unless you're trying to be macho, or happen to like strong, dark beer. Which, just for the record, I do."
Lucy smiled sweetly at him. "You've finished your wine. Again."
"Oh." Two glasses of wine weren't really enough for a buzz, but nerves and repressed lust seemed to duplicate the overall feeling somehow. "So… dessert? If you're done your dinner? Apparently it's a house specialty."
Lucy's smile faded. "Gray…"
"… I don't want to rush anything. When we're joking around, when you're in my arms, anything seems possible. It's easier…"
"But bring a nice dinner and a bottle of wine into the picture and it isn't?" Lucy's hand tensed slightly under his. "Isn't it usually the other way around?"
"Probably. Or maybe that's the problem. I don't—I don't—want to be just some guy." Gray heard the note of uncertainty in his voice and hated it.
"You don't trust me."
"What?"
"You don't trust me to say no. You're worried that I'll do something I'll regret later and that will mess things up."
"That's not it!"
"Really? We've known each other for over two years, and it took most of that time for you—for us—to risk even one date."
Suddenly Gray's attention was wrenched from the argument—or whatever it was—by a sharp, familiar scent. He let go of Lucy's hand and jumped up, eyes scanning the scene beyond the window.
"Gray? I'm sorry—"
"No… I mean, it's not you—there's something trying to get in, can't you smell it?"
Puzzled, but trying to believe that her boyfriend wasn't just trying to avoid a difficult conversation, Lucy walked over to stand beside Gray. She stiffened immediately, and shivered.
"It's cold here! And it smells of—of snow?"
"Yeah. I guess they managed to find—or make—a chink in the glass while we were busy earlier." Gray's fingers found Lucy's and squeezed reassuringly. "You can smell them too? The scent of snow at least? Not everyone can…"
"Sure. I've always been able to smell snow."
"Okay, ever hear of snow spirits?"
"No… not unless you mean Frosty and Sparky."
Gray shook his head. "This isn't Super Makaro and there isn't some villain trying to capture all the nice little snow spirits. Real snow spirits aren't cute and they aren't friendly. They aren't always unfriendly, according to what Ur taught me, but they, uh, really dislike ice mages. I've never seen them here before, but maybe I stirred them up when I was here last year—and then they noticed that I'd come back. I'm really sorry about this."
"Well, I told you that I wouldn't say no to fighting malevolent cold spirits," Lucy murmured.
"Yeah, but this is a vacation. Maybe you could just let me deal with them?" Gray was not overly-optimistic about what Lucy would think of this suggestion and he was right.
"Forget it. The couple that fights snow spirits together, stays together."
Her companion grinned a little crookedly. "It doesn't exactly scan well, but I'll take it." He bent down quickly and kissed her lips. It was a distinctly ardent, searching kiss for a guy who should be focussed on evil—or at least angry—supernatural beings.
"Distracted, much?" muttered Lucy.
"Oh yeah." Gray drew a deep breath. "And just so that we're clear: I do want to take you to bed, and take off those adorable pyjamas, and run my hands—and my mouth—over your whole body, and convince you that we're perfecttogether and the rest of the world can go to hell."
He could sense Lucy react to his words, could swear that he felt her temperature rise. Why was it easier to say such things at moments like this? Probably because he didn't have to face her and the danger made his words seems less real. Without even having to think about it, he used ice to create a seal on the window. Not the most effective against elemental cold beings, but as long as he got outside quickly at least he could avoid a battle—and damage—in here.
"I hate your timing, Gray. Just so that we're clear—you aren't fooling anyone." Moving with calm efficiency, Lucy picked up a leather case from a bedside table and pulled out a golden key. "Aries, I need your help." Her summoning rituals had gotten less formal over time…
There was a bright light, and then a sweet, curly-haired girl with small ram's horns appeared and bowed diffidently.
"Sumimasen," she murmured as usual; the celestial spirit connected to the Zodiac sign of the ram tended to apologize for anything and everything, or even nothing. She ducked her head and smiled shyly at Gray. She seemed to like him, for some reason—or at least he didn't alarm her as much as most.
"Aries do you notice—" Lucy suddenly looked intently at her celestial friend. "Is that snow in your fur?"
"Yes? It's very cold her. I smell elemental spirits—the freezing ones."
"Well, that saves explanations," Lucy muttered.
"See y' outside, Luce!" Gray had stepped back when Aries appeared, but now he stripped off his shirt—possibly accidentally—and hurried out of the room.
"Moron, why couldn't he just wait?" Lucy sighed. She'd given up a long time ago trying to hold any of her team-mates back from a confrontation.
"I believe that Gray-san wants to get the snow spirits away from the window so that it doesn't shatter and ruin your dessert. It's very pretty." Aries hesitated, and then added, "Are you going to get married?"
"What?! No! I mean—not right this moment! We've just started going out… Why are you asking, anyway?"
"Sumimasen! We're all curious and they—they made me promise to ask since you called me—I'm sorry!"
Lucy squeezed her eyes shut for a moment. At least they cared about her, right?
"Okay, sure. Anyway, do you think you could magic up some fluffy insulation for this window?"
"Oh yes, easily!"
Moments later, the big window was wreathed in fluffy pink clouds of… something. Whatever it was, the area near the window suddenly got much warmer and the scent of snow on a cold night vanished.
"Thank you!" Lucy called over her shoulder as she shoved her feet into boots and dragged her coat on over her pyjamas. She waved to Aries as she ran out the door to go looking for Gray. Hopefully she wouldn't get lost in the swirling snow.
[END of PART I]
(1) This is a normal good manners before a meal in Japan. The word is often accompanied by placing the palms together briefly as in prayer. The idiomatic meaning is "thank you for the meal". In more formal situations one might also bow slightly.
A/Note: Sorry for having to break this up! Chapter 5—Too Cold to Hold, Part II, will hopefully be out tomorrow evening! I'm just not very good at writing things as *short* as I intend them to be... Your comments, reviews, follows and faves are all much appreciated. :)
