Chapter Text
Gajeel’s lungs started to burn with the breath he’d been holding in an attempt to focus on anything else beside the inevitable loss of his job, and the dingy surrounding of the bus depot. He’d been sitting in the station for longer than he cared to admit, mind set on the measly $100 left in his bank account and the ultimatum from his editor to either “get out of this writing rut of his” or “find his ass another job.”
The first option, was easier said than done.
The second option, wasn’t an option at all.
Gajeel had worked too hard to get to his position as chief news writer at Fiore Times to just “find another job.”
So, he did what any sensible, nearly broke and nearly fired journalist would do and headed down to the depot to think. Some of his best stories had come from the downtrodden and lost drawn to the place of escape. Hidden deep beneath the cracked exteriors of the hopeless was often times a treasure trove just waiting for Gajeel to write about.
Except, apparently right now when he needed it, as the only other person there was the unamused, spotted teenager selling tickets.
The breath left his mouth in an angry huff as it finally escaped, the sound of it not even enough to make the ticket seller look up from his phone as he popped his gum. He had been there for the better part of an hour, only successful in making himself more annoyed the longer he sat there and heard the sharp pops of the teen’s bubbles.
“Could ya stop—“ he started to say, voice slightly angrier than necessary in the situation before it was cut off by the chime of the bell above the door. A petite woman stood in the doorway, her chest heaving and the slick sheen of sweat across her forehead shining under the fluorescent lights of the bus station.
She looked… tired.
He watched as her eyes lit up as she looked at the expanse of empty chairs before her, a small chirp of happiness escaping her as she dropped into the seat nearest to the door. Delicate hands fluttered over the strands of blue hair that had been whipped free of the headband holding the rest back from her face as she tried vainly to contain it again. The yellow of her blouse was bright in the otherwise drab room, its coloring playing up the azure highlights of her hair as if she was a slice of the sunlit sky.
From where he sat, he watched the way her breathing steadied as she collected herself. Just from the few moments she had been in the bus station, her grand entrance ignored only by the the ticket seller, Gajeel could tell she was not the kind of girl that made a habit of frequenting public transport. Hazel eyes settled on him from across the room as the woman finally registered that she wasn’t the only one there. Her delicate brow pulled upwards to her hairline as she appraised him.
The recognition hit him like a freight train as he held the gaze. He had seen her before. Would know the curious coloring of molten honey and periwinkle anywhere. In fact, one of the last stories he’d actually been able to write had been about the very hotel empire she would one day inherit.
Levy McGarden.
Heiress to the Magnolia Hotel dynasty that made her one of the wealthiest women in the country. Wealthy enough to be able to travel in other ways aside from a dingy bus. Interesting.
Now there may be a story, he thought to himself as he stood up from his seat and made his way towards her. Levy’s eyes narrowed as she watched him make his way over, walking with over exaggerated confidence before dropping himself into the seat just to the left of her. The air about her was expectant as she waited for him to say something as she steeled herself for whatever it was he might say. When he didn’t say anything, her gaze hardened to a glare. Time stretched between them as she waited, only making her grow more visibly irritated with each passing second. He bit the inside of his cheek to stop the grin that threatened to crack his lips wide.
“Can I help you?” She asked finally, her voice bell like as she broke the silence first. For added effect, Gajeel looked around before he turned his attention fully towards her, pressing as hand to his chest.
“Me?” He asked innocently.
“You are the only you I could be speaking to,” Levy deadpanned as she crossed her arms over her own chest. Her mouth turned downward in a scowl as she shifted so she was pressed into the opposite side of her seat.
“Nope. I was actually wondering if I could help you out.” He watched as she processed his words, her stare filled with nothing but distrust as she waited for him to elaborate, while he waited for her to prompt him to answer. Another sigh danced between them.
“What do you mean, help me?” Levy’s eyebrow arched dangerously.
“You seem to be lost,” Gajeel said casually, his tone as flippant as he could make it as he led her carefully towards his inevitable victory.
“Lost?”
“I mean, I never thought I’d ever see a McGarden at a bus station.” All of the color drained from her face as her eyes widened, staring at the journalist as her mouth opened and closed wordlessly. Checkmate.
“Now, I imagine there’s a story here,” he continued, not allowing her the opportunity to find a retort. “So I was thinking we could strike a deal. I assume you don’t quite know how to work the bus system, so I’ll help you get to where you’re going, and you give a struggling journalist the story that led you here.”
Silence filled the lobby as they held each others gazes. His, lit by the confidence of having the advantage. Hers, colored by disbelieving disdain.
“And if I refuse?” She finally asked, voice hardened by
“Well something tells me if you’re here, you don’t want to be found. And I know just about everyone that would be looking for you.” It was a slight bluff. Gajeel didn’t actually have any contact for her father. The man was insistent on keep his number out of the hands of the media. But he did know a couple people who could eventually get the information to him. Her glare could cut diamonds as it bore into him, her scowl deepening as she considered her options.
“Fine.”
The single word was a curt thing, made entirely of cut glass that sought to tear his skin. It seemed that Levy had claws hidden behind the demure mask she was known for wearing.
“Excellent,” Gajeel said with a smile as sharp as her tone. “All we need now is this destination of yours and some tickets.”
Another voice answered him, the spotted teen’s voice bored as he finally tore his gaze from his phone to look at the duo in the lobby.
“You guys know that the last bus for the day left like, an hour ago right?”
It was with that disinterested tone that the small victory he had felt was swept from him. Gajeel rolled his eyes upwards, not bothering to even look at the short woman beside him as she groaned loudly at the news.
Of course it had.
***
He only wants you for the fortune you’ll inherit.
Her father’s words continued to echo in her mind, spurring her first from the hotel that they were at and then to the bus station just on the outskirts of the small town. Levy had known he wouldn’t approve of her and Erik’s engagement. He hadn’t even approved of their dating, constantly telling her that her then boyfriend was nothing but a fortune hunter that couldn’t be trusted. If she didn’t love Erik so much, she might have stayed with him anyway if only because her father disapproved so vehemently.
But she did love him, a fact that had been made all too apparent when he’d dropped down to one knee one sunny afternoon and finally asked her to marry him. It was the happiest moment of her life, even if it was overshadowed by the fact he had to head back to the city later that evening and she had to go with her father down south for business. Then her father decided to remind her just how against the union he was.
He only wants you for the fortune you’ll inherit.
I’ll prove you wrong, father. I’ll get to him one way or another, and I’ll do it without your money and you’ll see.
You are a foolish girl.
I’ll prove you wrong.
Levy’s plan consisted of three very simple steps: get to the bus station, ride a bus to the city, find her fiancé. It should have been a breeze, the hardest part being choosing between which bus to take, yet something went wrong.
That something wrong being a no good, rotten journalist with a nose for a story and the ability to ruin all of her plans.
“Do you even know what you’re doing?” Levy asked from where she was now perched atop a short wooden fence. Her eyes were hawklike as she watched the stranger— Gajeel, she reminded herself— standing on the side of the road with his arm held out and his thumb up. It had been almost two hours since they’d left the station after learning that there wouldn’t be another bus until the next afternoon, spurring the journalist to proclaim he knew how they could get going. From where she sat, it seemed he lied.
“Yes, Shrimp,” he huffed, not bothering to turn back and look at her as he continued to stare out at the road. She could only imagine that he was willing some sort of vehicle to materialize before them, if only to protect his ego that took another hit with each passing car. It might have been funny if it didn’t mean another lost opportunity for her to finally get started on her journey to Erik. In the distance, Levy could see the inky silhouette of a truck driving towards them. Silently she made a wager with herself over whether or not the vehicle would stop for the man. If the past 16 cars were any indication, it wouldn’t.
“It’s hitch hiking. You probably don’t know anything about it, being a princess and all."
Honestly, Gajeel was an insufferable man. Armed with an angry scowl and a worn leather jacket, he reminded her of an angry old man trapped in the body of a 25-year-old. She knew the journalist’s name. In fact, she’d loved reading his articles for how in-depth and articulate he was. The love for his craft had come through in the words, carrying the research he’d done and shaping it into stories that were award winning. Levy had made it a point to buy each paper that had a piece of his as the headline, up until that headline had been about an investigation into how her father had come into his fortune.
It was one thing for her to question her father’s ways, it was another entirely for someone else to do it.
“Heiress, actually,” she muttered as she watched the truck barrel by, the wind from its speed blowing Gajeel’s wild hair around his shoulders. The sound of his cursing was drowned out by the roar of the vehicle as it continued down the road and away from them.
“From the looks of it, you don’t quite know anything about it either.”
Her words earned her a loud grunt and a cold glare as Gajeel spun on his heel to face her.
“Then why don’t ya give it a try, Short Stack.” Levy shouldn’t have found herself smiling at the overtly annoyed edge in her companion’s voice. It was unfair to laugh at the man’s misfortune, especially since he was helping her get to Erik. Granted, he was only helping because he wanted something, but it wasn’t like it had been the first time someone had come into her life for the sake of gaining something.
The left corner of her mouth betrayed her as it pulled upwards.
“Don’t mind if I do.”
Hopping down lightly, she made her way towards where he stood watching her with a weary expression.
“Go sit down,” she said as she patted him on the shoulder. “I’ll get us a ride.”
The next 15 minutes were the longest of Levy’s life as she waited for the next car that would come by, and hopefully stop. She wasn’t a very prideful person, but there was something about the wild haired man and his untamed eyes that made her want nothing more than to beat him at this small game they were playing. Gajeel’s stare was almost as hot as the sun above as it bore into her back, neither of them saying anything as they both waited in thick silence. A bead of sweat dripped from her hairline and rolled lazily down her neck as she stared into the horizon, looking for any sign of life.
She was close to caving and breaking the quiet when she’d finally seen the distinct shadow of another truck coming over the hill. Perfect.
Slowly, Levy ran both her hands through her hair, gathering the blue strands into the clutch of her left so that it exposed the long line of her neck to the road. Once it was all gathered, she used her free hand to pull down the shoulder of her blouse so that the expanse of her skin was bared. Leaning her weight to one side so that her hip jutted out just so, she waited until she could hear the roar of the motor before she added the final touch.
With a barely there smile, she leant her head back just slightly as she began to fan at her skin.
Gajeel snorted behind her as she assumed her position, the sound filled with disbelief at her audacity for thinking that was all it would take. He clearly didn’t know the power of a little bit of skin. Almost as if to prove her point, the sound of the truck’s engine grew impossibly loud as it drew close before it began to fade into a gentle purr as it rolled up next to her.
“You lookin’ for a ride, doll?” A thickly accented voice asked through the open window. Her smile was genuine as she dropped her hair and stood straight, imagining the look that must have been etched across Gajeel’s face as he watched the exchange.
Levy- 1, Gajeel- 0, she thought to herself wickedly as she walked towards the truck.
“Me and my friend her were hoping we could hitch a ride with you to the next town,” Levy said, aware that her voice was smug and loud enough for the journalist to hear. “Or at least as close as you can get us.”
The man, who was pleasant enough, agreed to take them to the next town over, with the only stipulation being that the pair ride in the bed of the truck. Levy had not seen an issue with the arrangement, and Gajeel didn’t get a say. Within just a few minutes of the man stopping, they found themselves sat amongst leftover hay and gardening tools with the air whipping through their hair.
“No thank you?” She asked once their ride had picked up speed. Her gaze was trained on Gajeel as he kept his own locked onto the landscape around them. A very small part of her purred in contentment over the displeased pout that had turned his features downward.
“Thanks,” he said gruffly, not bothering to look at her as he spoke. If she hadn’t been waiting to hear his response, she might have missed the words entirely as they were whipped away with the wind.
“And here I thought you were supposed to be helping me.” Levy kept her voice light and teasing as she attempted to goad a response out of him, if only so she could revel in her victory for just a few minutes more. Gajeel may have agreed to help her, and she may have agreed to give him a story, but she never agreed to make it easy. That can be his story, she thought to herself as she watched his onyx hair fly around his shoulders, Levy McGarden is a sore winner.
“Very funny, Shrimp.” His voice said it was anything but.
“I’m serious,” she continued as she tied her hair up to keep it out of her face. “Maybe I don’t need you after all. Can keep my story all to myself.”
The garnet of his eyes flashed as quick as a sword stroke from the scenery towards her in a barely perceptible glance. It was such a fast movement, she almost didn’t see the worry that softened them from the hard rubies they’d been that entire afternoon to silk sheets.
“It was just beginner’s luck,” he grumbled.
“Maybe.” It was her turn to shrug as she leant further back into the wall of the truck bed. “But I’m sure I still could have managed. Contrary to what you may have heard, I’m pretty self-sufficient.”
Waiting for a biting response that didn’t come, she pressed further in search of some answers of her own.
“What I want to know is why you’re so adamant about helping me.”
Gajeel’s sigh was heavy as he finally turned his full attention on her, its intensity sending a shiver dancing down her spine.
“Do I need a reason to want a good story?”
It was Levy’s turn to pause as she leveled him with her own gaze, ignoring the way her skin was erupting with a long line of goosebumps. She should drop the subject now and just play the hand she’d been dealt. There was nothing but danger in trying to untangle the twisted reasoning for the journalist’s help, especially with the way her heart had started to rattle her ribcage. Levy should be throwing up guards of her own.
Instead, she opted to lower her defenses. It’s for the sake of getting what I want, she told herself, ignoring a small voice in the back of her mind that suggested ulterior motives to her thoughts.
“I’ve read your work, Gajeel, I know you have a never-ending supply of good stories.” She allowed her voice to grow soft as she spoke as if she was trying to coax a wild animal closer. “Compared to some of them, mine is hardly worthy of all this work.”
The minutes felt like hours as she waited for a reply that she wasn’t even sure would come as he carefully scrutinized her. His gaze could level fields as he attempted to read the very thoughts in her head, making his decision on whether he could trust her with the truth of his intentions. She almost gave up waiting when she saw the line of his tensed shoulders slacken.
“Recently, writing has been,” he paused again, as he searched for the right word. “Difficult.” Gajeel’s studded brows pulled together as he spoke, almost as if the realization was coming to him as he revealed it to her.
“I haven’t had any inspiration in awhile and it seems I have found the end of my editor’s patience.”
Whatever Levy had thought he would say, that wasn’t it. She’d been ready to hear that he was a headline hungry journalist, ready to pick her life apart for recognition. Would have been ready to accept that he was just opportunistic. Even would have suspected he was just a sadist who happened to make her his next victim. Levy had absolutely not expected for him to have an actual, human reasoning.
Gajeel turned his attention back to the fields the whizzed by them as if he could no longer speak as he looked at her. She didn’t miss the way his hand fisted over his knee as he continued, trying to settle back into an air of indifference to cover up the piece of himself he’d just given her.
“If I don’t find my next story, I get to kiss my job goodbye.” His voice was filled with so much more than the careful nonchalance he tried to exude as he shrugged. She also didn’t miss the way his lips twitched downward, or how a distant sadness darkened the red of his eyes.
Levy didn’t feel bad for him. At least, that’s what she told herself as she chewed on her bottom lip. Her gaze flickered from the flat expanse of land that whizzed by in a blur of various shades of green to find his face. For the first time, she allowed herself to really see him. She noticed the way his jaw was set as if he was constantly waiting to hear bad news, and the severe crimson of his eyes that seemed to see everything as he looked out around them, only missing the way she stared at him now. There was no denying that he was handsome. Handsome in the same way a jungle cat was: nice to look at, but ready to tear any that came too close to shreds.
No, Levy couldn’t feel bad for someone that was so hard and abrasive, knowing all too well that that behavior was what most likely got him into the spot his was in now. Yet, the sadness in his eyes as he’d spoken of losing his job had been something she had known on an intimate level. She understood loss, and loneliness, her own demons crying out as they recognized their brethren in the ruby of his stare.
She swallowed down the small stutter of her heart as his gaze met hers before she could tear it away. The land around them stretched on forever in a darkening sea of shadows as the sun set, the truck driving them to the first stop on their journey.
Once she was certain he’d averted his own stare, Levy let her gaze flicker back towards his face and ignored the way her insides filled with fire.
It was going to be a long ride.
***