notes: i'll just leave this here.
more notes: i love the 1989 album so much words cannot express.

.::.
part three: twinkle, little star

.

(it's just a matter of time until we're all found out)

—

SUMMARY OF SURVEILLANCE

OPERATIVES: Erza Scarlet, Class Three; Lucy Heartfilia, Class Three; Levy McGarden, Class Three; Juvia Lockser, Class Three.

Following the earlier report the above mentioned, in order to take down the Subject of totally dubious reputation, Operatives undertook a (completely allowed!) undercover mission that resulted in the arrest of the human trafficker Michael Bora (excuse us, more commonly known in the scum society as Bora the Prominence) and his crew.

Operatives were, admittedly, not completely prepared and there were some complications that arose as a result. Operative Lucy H. was assigned to infiltrate the party being thrown by the Subject, and completed her objective but was later drugged and technically kidnapped after all the comms were interrupted by a scrambler.

However, upon waking with the worst ever headache and dry throat known to man, Operative Lucy H. was able to ascertain the exact location of the missing girls, and subdue the Subject and his men. Operative Juvia L. took out the sentries while Operative Erza S. extracted confessions from the crew and Operative Levy M. called in backup.

The operation did not exactly go according to plan, but the Operatives completed it to the best of their ability, (here Operative Lucy H. would like to add that she has no idea how half the port was destroyed) and in a timely matter.

Operative Lucy H. also noticed a person of interest during the final stages of the operation. All information collected is as follows:

Subject of interest has no affiliations with Michael Bora "The Prominence" whatsoever, and there are no records of him. Subject has ridiculously pink hair, obvious training in hand-to-hand combat, and was "probably but most definitely waving a flamethrower around at one point." Not much else is known about the Subject, a fun extra side job for Juvia L., maybe?

.

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She's being followed.

Juvia is an expert on all things covert and undercover—top of her class—and she totally aced those surveillance exams last semester, okay. She can blend in anywhere despite her unusual hair color; reconnaissance is practically second-nature to her. It's ingrained into her, from years upon years of training and work, it's a part of her now.

So when she sees the guy wearing the red beanie and trailing behind her at a distance, her breath catches. He could just be someone out like her—a college student on his day off, headed to a coffee shop to catch up with friends or something. He could be completely normal, just a civilian going about his daily routine, another face in the crowd. But he isn't.

For the first ten minutes, she thought she was just being paranoid. She's almost always paranoid, because of her training, because apparently it just comes with the territory of being in this kind of work. But, no—she knows when she's being tailed, and she's definitely being tailed right now. Besides, a girl in her field can always spot someone like this. Someone like her.

Only, not like her. Because he's kind of sloppy, if she's completely honest. She doesn't ever turn around to get a good look at him because that could tip him off and then it'd be over. Whatever is going on, anyway. But she sees him from her peripheral vision, notices him in the reflection of the shop windows she passes, and he's always there—pretending to be absorbed in his phone (then again, maybe he really is talking to someone) and Juvia lets this information sink in.

He's obviously not an amateur because he seems to know what he's doing, but he's not as good as she is. He blends in, but stands out at the same time. This guy is noticeably following her, and she wants to know why. It's only been a week since they took on the Prominence operation, and Headmistress Porylusica hasn't let them take another job (on record or off) yet. So he can't be following her because she's been noticed tailing someone else. Not that she's ever noticed, because she isn't.

(It sounds like she has an overinflated ego, but that's not so. She's just too good at staying hidden to be noticed, and she knows this. She just has enough experience to be confident that she won't get caught, but not so much that she's overconfident.)

She casts a casual glance behind her at a billboard advertising a perfume—Lucy's favorite, in fact. The blonde is different from any girl she's ever met (they all are, if she's totally honest). Lucy likes to be different from others, to stand out from the crowd, or at least from the women and teenage girls from her background. So when she stumbled upon this particular fragrance that wasn't very popular, she decided that would be her new first glimpse. She would smell like the first day of spring, like the shy smiles you gave your crush, like good memories, like the girl in your Chemistry class that no one ever noticed, like a fresh bouquet of sweet peas and lily of the valley.

Juvia looks for her new best friend too, but he isn't there. Maybe he wasn't actually following her at all, and had just stepped into the doorway of his destination? She frowns, but shrugs and continues to walk. She has to get to the tea shop before the owner goes out to lunch. It's Saturday, so the shop isn't open past noon and she needs more chamomile because she's fresh out.

She sighs and adjusts the strap of her small purse—it's stitched taupe with a pretty pink bow, a gift from Lucy—and so she isn't paying attention to the sidewalk in front of her. She walks straight into something firm and feels herself tipping backward, flailing. But a hand shoots out and steadies her, saving her from colliding with the cold concrete, and she glances up to give her rescuer a thankful smile—

—which quickly drops into a look of dread when she sees it's the guy wearing the red beanie.

.

.

.

"You can be the pretty distraction next time," Lucy says mournfully around a spoonful of rocky road, "and I'll take out all the bad guys from a hidden location."

Juvia laughs and Levy pats her best friend's arm. "Ah, come on Lu, it's not that bad."

The blonde narrows her eyes and waves her spoon around in the air. "How would you know? You stay in the van; it's not your job to charm sleazy men out of their minds. You've never had a needle stabbed into your neck by some overenthusiastic, vicarious bastard."

"So it's the drugging part that bothers you most," Erza smiles and turns on the television in their room.

Lucy shakes her head. "No, it's the part where they were used such an awful method of putting me under. Couldn't even fight me like a man," she huffs, "so instead they hid behind a dirty method of knocking someone out. Cowards. I feel seriously violated."

"I have pizza?" Juvia offers, and the girl instantly brightens.

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When she's not wearing bold red lipstick and dangerously high heels, or cracking heads and lacing wine with poison, Lucy likes to be normal. Well, as normal as possible, all things considering. There's an old bookstore tucked away in one of the quainter corners of Magnolia—and it's kind of hard to differentiate, okay, because the whole city is pretty strange—that is her favorite. She likes to frequent it on Mondays and Thursdays when not in class or working.

And almost every time she goes, she sees the same boy. Well, not boy per say—more like young man? He's taller than her with wild blue hair and a wicked red facial tattoo. Which she cringes at every time she sees because hello, a facial tattoo are you for real? That had to be painful, and she's always been kind of squeamish around needles, ones used for inking skin or not.

He likes the classics, she notes, and he steers clear of paperbacks and anything written or published within the last fifty-or-so years. Lucy is fond of the classics too, okay, but she also enjoys a YA novel every once in a while. (Which is more like every week, but whatever.) But this guy is unlike any other reader she's ever seen. It's weird.

Classical Tat Boy, as she's dubbed him, is usually dressed in boring sweaters of various uninteresting colors and crisp, ironed oxford shirts under them. He wears coordinating slacks, and sometimes nice jeans, with red Converse. Every once in a while she'll see him in a red beanie, a button up with a jean jacket pulled over it, still jeans, and his constant sneakers—those never change.

He normally holes himself up in the far corner of the bookstore where it's dark aside from the dim lamplight after he's done browsing. He doesn't come out for about an hour or so, at which point he approaches the register and usually buys whatever book he'd been perusing.

But today is a Saturday, and she's never seen Classical Tat Boy there on Saturdays, so she's beyond surprised when she walks in and there he is, looking over the mystery section. He isn't dressed in a sweater today, but a plaid button up with his jean jacket. His beanie is missing, and it gives her a clear view of how messy his blue hair really is.

It's not completely out of the norm for him to be looking in that section, she tells herself. Mystery seems to be one of his favorite genres, if his past buys are any indication.

Lucy ignores the strange feeling in her stomach and waves at the owner, who's perched behind his desk as usual. She slips into the mystery section as well, making it a point to ignore the boy only about five feet from her. In fact, she gets so absorbed in reading the titles and trying to figure out which book to purchase, that she doesn't notice a hand reaching for the same one she is. Their fingers brush and Lucy jumps at the contact, pulling her hand back immediately and turning to look at him with wide eyes.

Classical Tat Boy is smiling shyly at her (which is so not the cutest thing ever, no way) and he rubs the back of his beck with his hand. "Uh, sorry. I didn't know you were going for that one."

"It's okay!" she replies, too loudly and too fast. She wants to slap herself. "I-I mean, I thought you didn't usually go for the modern stuff?"

A strange look passes over his face, and she sees something stir in his eyes, but then it's gone just as fast. "Ah well, I've heard that Kemu Zealon is a pretty decent author so I thought I'd give it a try. See if I like it and all," he gives her a cheeky smile, "I didn't know that you were paying attention to me other than the occasional innocuous glance."

Lucy knows she's blushing, and it's beyond embarrassing. "U-um, well, I just…I'm super observant? Not that I've been watching you! I just…I've noticed."

Classical Tat Boy's smile becomes nervous, and he looks away. "Yeah uh, actually, I've…sort of noticed you too. Your reading preferences, that is," he corrects almost immediately. "You spend a lot of time in the romance section—which is severely dwindling in the good plot department, if you ask me—and you like the mystery section too. You have pretty good taste," he admits.

She looks down at her boots and shrugs. "You like classical literature, and you've never even picked up a book written in this decade. Well," she glances at the volume on the shelf, "aside from today."

"I'm Jellal," he says, suddenly, thrusting his hand out. "I like horror too. In books, not movies or reality."

She smiles. "Lucy, and I know. Good choice buying that one you did last week. I hear it's supposed to keep you up at night."

Jellal nods. "You…wouldn't mind getting a coffee with me, would you? I mean, I just thought—"

"I'd love to," she interjects. "I'm free right now, if you want to go."

He offers his arm to her. "Then let's get going."

.

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If there's one thing to know about Levy McGarden, it's that she doesn't like people messing with her comms, cameras, computers, and her friends. Anyone willing to disturb those things would also have to be willing to go to war. Or have a deathwish. She may be short, but she's never been out of the game. In fact, she's always had an advantage, because people usually underestimated her.

It's three days after their altercation with The Prominence that she realizes something's off. The frequency is different, there's off clicking at seemingly random times, and then she can't get ahold of Lucy on Wednesday. She brushes it off the first couple of times, but then their connection times out for over half an hour on Thursday morning.

She immediately suspects Angel, because Angel doesn't like them because she hates Lucy or something, and the girl has done things like this before. So she confronts Angel and politely asks her to cut it out and stop interfering with their comms already but no dice. Her sister sneers and tells Levy that she's given up messing with them for now, and even swears on her prized Couture white feather bolero that she hasn't done jack shit.

Of course, it could also be Minerva, because Minerva hated everyone equally but for some reason had a special place of abhorrence in her black heart for Levy and her friends. But the witch has taken a shine to Yukino lately and has been torturing her for the past few weeks, and it didn't look like things had changed. So she was out too.

Saturday morning, the clicking becomes more frequent and that's when Levy realizes it's Morse code. Which is insane, honestly, because apparently somebody is just itching to make her life miserable. She translates the same message five times before concluding that it's a loop and probably nothing else is going to come through.

And did she mention that the message is a fucking riddle? No? Well it is. But she's smart and aced her decoding classes, so understanding it is kind of a breeze. It's an address, in a part of town that has a less-than-stellar reputation, and she is not looking forward to going. However, if she wants to figure out who's been screwing with her setup (which she is very proud of, and doesn't like touched, thank you very much) then she has no other choice.

The cryptic message instructed her to come alone.

Levy huffs and stares at the rundown apartment building in front of her, the destination of the message, and taps her foot against the pavement. The clacking sound of her flats slapping the cement echoes off the empty buildings and creates an eerie effect that the whole neighborhood seems to emit. The message didn't tell her to do anything else but to come to this location, but there's nothing here and she's starting to get impatient.

Juvia left the school to get some tea five hours ago, and Lucy went out shortly afterwards to visit the bookstore she likes. She hasn't heard from either of them since, and it's slightly worrying. But she brushes it off because they're still teenage girls, and sometimes they get distracted or time gets away from them.

So she reluctantly plops down on the front steps of the apartment building and props her elbows on her knees and chin in her palms. She sits and waits for fifteen minutes before pulling her cell out of her bag and dialing Lucy's number.

It goes straight to voicemail, which she finds unsettling because Lucy always has her phone on unless it dies, and Levy knows for a fact that the blonde charged it completely before she left. So she calls Juvia's mobile, and to her relief, it rings. And rings, and rings, and rings. Her voicemail finally picks up as well, but Levy doesn't bother leaving a message.

Something is wrong, really wrong and her friends are caught up in whatever it is. She has to call Erza, or Headmistress Porlyusica, or somebody because something is definitely not right.

In her defense, she does hear the heavy footfalls behind, she does see the horrible smirk on the guy's face—he has like a dozen facial piercings heaven help her, but he's huge. He's much bigger than she is and easily overpowers her. He holds her to his chest in what could be considered a loving embrace if he wasn't actually almost crushing her to death and presses a rag soaked with something over her nose and mouth.

Is that chloroform? Dammit it is, Lucy would have the greatest temper tantrum known to man, she thinks as the world starts to blur and her knees go weak.

It was a fucking setup.

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part four: keep your friends close

(i know you've heard this all before, but we're just hell's neighbors)

—

Erza doesn't like practical jokes. She doesn't like pranks or anything of that sort, and is usually firmly against playing them on people. No one hardly dares to target her either, because she'll be sure to rip them a new one or give them the lecture of a lifetime.

So she is decidedly not pleased with the disembodied voice at the other end of the line.

"If you ever want to see your friends again, then you'll come," it informs her, "and come alone. If you don't, the pretty blonde one becomes target practice, and the blue ones get to try out what it's like to take a swan dive off the tallest building in the city."

She scowls into the mirror and slams a fist down on the bureau. "If this is some kind of prank, I would like to remind you of what happened last time you tried to pull a stunt like this."

It had been in their sophomore year that some of their more adventurous sisters decided it would be fun to 'kidnap' Levy and see how their team worked without her. It was the middle of the night when they received the call saying that Levy's captors would kill her if they didn't find them first. They had two hours, and in those two hours the other three girls almost destroyed the assembly hall and gardens before finding her fifteen minutes before the deadline. Afterwards, they made sure no one would pull anything like that again, even though it got them stable duty for a month.

"Lucy knows exactly what happened between you and Midnight, Angel, if that's you. And if this is Minerva, then just know that your father's money can't get you out of everything," Erza keeps her voice level, but the person on the other end just laughs.

"Sorry Titania, but this time it's the real deal. No more games, alright? If you ever want to see them again," the voice trails off, "be there. Nine o'clock sharp, or they burn."

The line goes dead, and Erza throws her phone on her bed. The voice was obviously male, unfamiliar to her. Well, mostly. She thinks she's heard it before but she can't recall where. But her sisters also friends that are boys, and she can't really believe that anyone would actually kidnap her girls.

She scowls at her reflection, and storms out of her shared room and down the hall. It isn't Angel, and it isn't Minerva—the former because she tried desperately to keep that specific bit of information from finding its way to the Headmistress, and the latter because she's cruel but her traps her more elaborate.

Erza pounds on the door in front of her until the girl on the other side flings it open. Glasses askew, face livid, and hair dripping wet, Evergreen glares at her self-proclaimed 'rival' and huffs. "Titania," she seethes, "what the hell do you want?"

The redhead pushes past her and into the room, ignoring the startled expression of Lisanna Strauss (Evergreen's roommate) and crosses her arms. "Where are they, Evergreen? What boy of the week do you have threatening them and calling me?"

Evergreen's sneer morphs into a look of confusion. "What are you talking about?"

"Do not," Erza takes a step forward, "play with me. The jig is up, the game is over, now where are you keeping them?"

The brunette throws her hands in the air and screeches. "You're finally off your rocker, Erza! For one thing, I don't know what the hell you're on about, and two, I've been here with Lisanna all day!"

Erza falters at the sincere yet brutal tone of voice. "Y-You mean you don't have Lucy, Juvia, and Levy locked up somewhere?"

"Please," Evergreen rolls her eyes and focuses on her manicure, "not my style. And you know I've been on my best behavior since the Hair Dye Incident."

Erza's brows furrow, and her arms fall to her sides. Ever looks back at her, expression troubled. "Wait, what about the others?"

Lisanna leaps to her feet. "Are they okay?"

"They're—" she stops and looks at the other girl. Sometimes she heard voices on the other end of the line when Lisanna or Mirajane called their brother. Male voices, usually, probably friends of Elfman. She could always tell who was who even if she didn't know their names, because they were vastly different.

But there was a smooth one, obviously belonging to someone with a cool persona. Someone who was laidback and easygoing, or at least that's what people assumed he was.

She'd heard it today, just a few minutes ago.

"Someone took them. I don't know who, or why, or what they want, but I believe them. They want me to come alone, to a place in Magnolia at nine tonight. If I don't, they'll kill the girls."

Evergreen and Lisanna are alert immediately. "You're sure it's not a prank or something?" Ever asks, voice hard. She may not always get along with the great Titania, but these girls are still her sisters. They've known each other for years, and she's not about to let them die.

Erza shakes her head. "Lucy and Juvia have dirt on Angel, and Minerva wouldn't stoop to this level. She's a 'refined, classy type of bitch.' Or that's what Lucy says, anyway. The caller was male, and he sounded familiar."

"You just came off that job—" Lisanna starts, but Evergreen waves a hand at her.

"They caught all the guys, Lis. This is different," she narrows her eyes. "Should we alert Headmistress Porylusica?"

The redhead grabs her arm. "No, no you can't. They said not to tell her. I have to go alone, I can't tell the Headmistress or the police, and I have to be there on time. If I want to go, I have to leave soon."

Evergreen crosses her arms and gives her a hard stare. "You completely sure about this, Titania? It could just be some whackjob enemy of the Academy's—the girls could have already taken care of him by now."

"Then wouldn't they have called? Besides, I don't think that's the case," Erza turns to leave. "You can't tell anyone, do you hear? We can't risk it."

She doesn't slam the door on her way out. Erza Scarlet never has to.

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Lucy comes to and cringes. There is polyester over her eyes, she can tell. Not polyester, anything but that. Her hands and feet are bound, but she's not gagged. Good, she can give her captors a piece of her fucking mind. She'd been on a nice coffee maybe-date with a cute boy who likes books and the next thing she knew it was lights out. She's going to roast these idiots alive. Or drug them and then tie them up in a nondescript warehouse and leave them there for like a week with barely any food while she feasts like a queen in front of them.

She doesn't hurt everywhere—just her neck—which is a plus considering the fact that the place she's being held in smells like a swamp. It's musty and old and in desperate need of dowsing with like, six or seven cans of Febreeze.

Her captors had also tied her up with rope, apparently, which is honestly kind of a downer. Knots took longer to get out of than zip ties. Unfortunately for her, these guys were smart. She can't wait to hit them over the head with the chair she's sitting on.

It's late, she can tell because she's kind of starving as she hasn't eaten anything since breakfast because her lunch date was rudely interrupted. She hopes they didn't take Jellal too. See, this is why she doesn't do the dating thing.

Lucy freezes when she hears shuffling next to her, and her fingers twitch at the faint moans.

"Hello? Is anyone else there?"

She's even more baffled to hear Levy quietly calling out. "Levy? Is that seriously you?"

A pause in the shifting. Then—

—"Lucy?"

The blonde sighs in relief and resumes her attempts to undo the knots keeping her in place. "It really is you. Good. Well, not good, but. Look, I'm kind of stuck—can you cut me loose?"

"Well," Levy says slowly, "I'd really like to, but I'm tied to a chair."

"Shit."

"Yeah."

"Guys?"

"Juvia?" they ask incredulously.

She laughs nervously and shrugs, not that they can see it. "Um, hi? Juvia has been awake the whole time, apparently they got to her before you. There are four of them, she thinks. We're somewhere down near the tracks, probably on the wrong side of them too."

Lucy would blink in disbelief if she could, but she chooses to keep her eyes closed because polyester. "You're talking in third person again, Juvia," she says.

"I-it's because Juvia is under a lot of stress right now!"

Levy clears her throat. "Anyway, Juvia's right. I saw the building, and we're definitely in the wrong side of town. The tracks are just a block or so away, too. It's mostly abandoned down here, it'd take days to find us."

"Well that's certainly bright news," Lucy grunts as she struggles with the rope. "Wait just a minute—you saw the building? You were conscious?"

"Someone has been messing with the comms ever since The Prominence case," Levy sighs, "they left me a message, and I came here to find out who it was. I tried calling you two but you wouldn't pick up, then some scary guy got me with chloroform," she ignores Lucy's groan and continues, "And anyway, where were you both? You had me worried sick."

Juvia smiles apologetically. "Sorry Levy, someone was tailing me and I ran into him. Literally. I don't remember much after that."

"This is all so cliché," Lucy whines. "I apologize for not picking up. I was on a date and the next thing I know…I'm tied to a chair with a cheap piece of cloth over my eyes. Erza's gonna be sad she missed the party for sure."

"Wait, you were on a date?"

Lucy huffs. "Yes, but we'll save that for later. Do either of you know what the hell they want?"

Silence.

"Sorry," Juvia offers.

"Not a clue," Levy sighs.

Someone's stomach grumbles loudly, and they all try to ignore it in favor of getting free.

"They have guns," Juvia informs them in a light tone of voice. "I heard them before they left. Or at least, I think they left. It's awfully quiet out there."

Lucy groans. "Double shit."

The three of them struggle for a few minutes in silence, and a train whistle blows from somewhere outside. There's not a sound coming from anywhere else in the building other than the occasional ominous creak and groan. It's enough to set them ever more on edge than they already are.

"I regret even leaving the Academy this morning," the blonde intones, and the other two girls agree. "Totally not worth it."

Juvia manages to slip one of the knots around her wrists. "Do you think they're going to question us? Or just kill us?"

"Torture is always an option too," Levy adds dejectedly. "They could have cameras set up in here. They could be watching us right now, laughing at us."

Lucy suddenly remembers she has a knife hidden in her right boot.

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Erza glances down at her phone. The white numbers tell her that it's 8:59 pm, and she looks back up at the abandoned apartment building. Taking a deep breath of crisp autumn air, she climbs the front steps and walks over to the listing information. She rings the buzzer for Apt. 7B just as the clock on her cell changes to nine. She can hear the bells from Kardia Cathedral chiming away over in the brighter, friendlier part of the city.

The door swings open, and she steps inside, fingers twitching, ready to draw a weapon at any second.

But the halls and stairwell are empty and cold; there's no sign of life at all, not a disturbance anywhere.

They're here, she knows, both her girls and the people that took them. And she's going to find them, all of them.

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end notes: even longer than the first chapter good grief. and for six reviews.