notes: this is a trainwreck for sure. who wants to hop on?
dedication: this is a super late birthday present for amenah. extremely late. like i showed up to the party three months later with a day-old cupcake in my hand. i'm sorry.
disclaimer: nah son.

x

{you didn't have to look my way, ignite my circuits, start a flame}

x

one.

There is a small shop tucked away in an almost forgotten corner of Magnolia. It's pale pink brick with a mint green roof, cheery yellow-framed windows each with its own window box full of bright flowers, and a red, loopy neon sign right above the equally cherry red front doors. Wonderful aromas are always floating through the doors when they're cracked or open, possibly to lure potential patron inside. The smells are free, as stated by a sign hanging in the window.

Here, Levy exploits cheap mug tricks and her prettiest and politest smiles for extra tips. She also wipes down the counter to rid it of leftover crumbs and sticky filling or anything else, takes people's orders, and guards the tip jar with her life. Because it's super important, okay.

She wears a cute red and blue apron with bows sewed onto it, pulls her bangs back behind her headband of the day, puts on her biggest smile for customers, and carries around a pad and pen almost permanently. Such is the life of a waitress, she supposes. Levy also supposes that she could just apply for a job somewhere else, too, but she never does. There's something about this place that makes it so homey, so warm. She's content here.

The Pie Hole offers a wide variety of its specialty to its frequent or non-frequent visitors: pies. From blueberry to pumpkin to chocolate peanut butter and almost whatever your heart desires; it's probably either in the cases or baking in the oven. Their pies are homemade and fresh-baked every day, with care and love. Maybe that's why they're so popular in town—either that, or they're just so delicious that no one can resist.

It's five-thirty on a rainy Wednesday, according to the clock above the kitchen doors, and business is steadily picking up. There's always a certain dinner rush between five and eight which keeps her extra busy. She's not really sure why Wednesdays have her making at least five extra pots of coffee, serving more slices of pie, or leave her wishing she hadn't worn flats that day (and she always wears flats on Wednesday), and she's stopped trying to figure it out. For some reason, the middle of the week just seems to be the time that people want pie.

Such as it is, Wednesdays have become predictable for her. Nab will take forever indecisively perusing the menu before ordering his usual slice of chocolate pecan pie. Jet and Droy will conspicuously fawning over her from a booth near the back, Max from the hardware store across the street will take a break from restocking his brooms to stop by and pick up a couple slices to take home, and Cana will peddle fortunes to the unfortunate people who pass by her place at the counter. But Levy likes Wednesdays, despite everything, because normally Natsu will step out of the kitchen for a while to argue with Gray about how his pies do not suck, and that cute guy from the tattoo parlor a few streets away almost always stops by for a slice of their special of the day.

Okay, so he's not so much cute as, per say, gruffly handsome, but whatever.

She hums some Frank Sinatra song to herself as she pours another cup of coffee with a flick of her wrist. Her dress sways behind her as she bustles around behind the counter, her eyes fixed on the man hunched over the far end of the counter. Does he have another piercing this week? How many is that now? She's lost count and mostly given up on trying to keep track. Maybe she should check and see if he needs more coffee? Since when wasn't the tip jar sitting atop the key lime and Boston crème case?

Levy shakes her head, curls bobbing, and blinks. This is also a regular Wednesday occurrence. Or more like an everyday occurrence. She narrows her eyes, sets the pot of coffee down on the counter, and slips into the back. Her feet do not stop until she reaches the supply closet door, and—already knowing what she's going to find, she puts on her best long face and pulls the door open. Like she said before: predictable.

Jellal is huddled over the tip jar on the floor, counting coins and dollar bills.

He looks up at her in surprise, just like clockwork, and laughs nervously. "Levy, hey."

"Ten percent and I won't tell Natsu," she says with authority, placing her hands on her hips. It's nice to be able to look down on someone once in a while.

Jellal gapes, looking much like a fish out of water. "I was just counting," he pleads. "You know I'd never steal money from the tip jar. Of all the crimes to be accused of. So this is the faith you have in me."

Her lip curls. "And I get all the fives."

"This is absurd. You're absurd. What happened to sweet little Levy? You aren't supposed to be a devious tyrant. What would your tattoo boy think of that?"

Levy takes a step back and shoots him a flustered look. "What are you on about? I have no idea what you're saying. The constant smell of copper must be making your head go wacky. I think maybe you should stop sneaking the tip jar out of the front and inhaling all the fumes every day. This isn't even your break."

"Yes, but then that would upset the schedule," Jellal smiles at her. He smells like raspberries today, hm. "And you wouldn't be able to afford those new earrings you've been wanting."

She bends down and plucks the jar out of his hands. "Blackmail now, Fernandez? What would your boss say?"

He stands up and brushes the flour off his apron. "He'd probably be all for it, McGarden. I think I just heard Fullbuster's voice, which means that he'll be out of the kitchen and at Gray's throat pretty soon. We might want to get the jar back before then."

Levy gives him a sideways smile. "You only work here four days a week and yet you somehow manage to make my life difficult."

Jellal scoffs. "You know you love me."

She winks at him before disappearing through the swinging door. "I know Erza loves you."

Levy ducks out of the door and leaves him to think on that for a while, her smile wide. She sets the tip jar back in its rightful place and resumes wiping down the counter and looking busy just in time. Natsu bursts out of the kitchen as soon as Gray makes a comment about how the chocolate pie looks soggy today, and the two are almost literally butting heads not long after.

This is the life, she thinks to herself as Tattoo Guy casts a furtive glance at her from his spot down the counter.

x

Since Levy has Fridays off, and Jellal only works Sunday to Thursday, Natsu has hired someone to work the three-day weekends and whenever they need him. Doranbolt is efficient and a favorite among their customers. Levy and Jellal like him well enough, too, as does Natsu's sixteen-year-old sister. He likes working at The Pie Shop just as much, and it helps him with a little extra money. College isn't an easy thing to pay for, as everybody well knows.

It's ten-thirty on a chilly Friday night, and Natsu has left him to lock up. This would be his third time in doing so, and he's more than a little excited. Natsu mentioned something about making him a full-time employee once the summer starts, so long as he can make it work. He's eager to prove himself responsible.

Doranbolt is putting the last of the newly-washed plates in a stack when the back alley door suddenly opens, and someone steps inside. He thinks that maybe it's just Natsu coming back because he forgot something (it's happened before), but when he turns around, he does not in fact, find his boss searching for his keys.

"Did you forget some—who are you?"

The only lights on are the bulbs above the ovens, so he can't see very well. It's a man, he thinks, draped in black and heading straight towards him. Is this a robbery? Are they being robbed?

Who the heck would rob a pie shop, of all things?

"This is unfortunate," the most likely criminal remarks, taking a good look at him. Or he thinks the guy does. It's too dark to see. Also, he can't really make out any eyes behind the balaclava. "How inconvenient of you to be here."

"Tell your boss we've got a message for him," the probably and definitely man says in a gruff voice.

Doranbolt raises a brow and tosses a towel over his shoulder. "What?"

The last thing he sees is the tip jar crashing and shattering to the ground, and the sound of quarters rolling all over the tile floor.

Oh, he thinks.

x

Levy cries into her apron as Natsu and Gray survey the kitchen grimly. Jellal bursts through the swinging kitchen doors, all out of breath and jacket on upside down.

"What's the—" he stops when he sees the body, "…problem."

It's midnight, technically Saturday, and the part-time kid is lying in a dead heap on the floor.

This is not really what he expected to find when he was awakened half an hour before by a call from Natsu telling him to get down to The Pie Hole asap. He swallows and drops his arms limply to his sides. He'd thought that maybe they'd been robbed, or the building had burned down in a freak accident (since somebody was always leaving an oven or two on), but not this. Not a dead body.

At least, not another dead body.

And not someone he sort of knew and liked.

Natsu rubs the back of his neck, a nervous tick that he's noticed over the past three years of working for the guy. "I left him to close up because I had to pick up Wendy tonight. But I forgot my keys so I came back and…"

He does not say, found him with a broken neck on the kitchen floor because they all already know.

Levy sniffles. "He was going to be a doctor you know."

"Alright asshole, do your sparky thing," Gray groans. "We gotta do something with him before anyone notices."

Natsu glares at him but leans lean and, carefully, lightly, taps Doranbolt's forehead. All the color comes rushing back to the boy's cheeks, and his eyes fly open. He bolts upright and puts a hand to his head. Levy swallows down her sobs and kneels beside him.

"Doranbolt, I need you to listen to me," she says hurriedly. "We don't have much time, okay? You died, and we need to find out who killed you. Can you tell us?"

He casts a wild eye at Natsu, who is intently watching the time, Gray's still grim expression, Jellal's tired face, and Levy's red eyes. "I'm dead? But…"

Forty-five seconds, Natsu thinks to himself but also does not say aloud.

Levy nods her head. "Yes. I'm so sorry. This wasn't supposed to happen. But we need to know. Did you see who it was?"

Doranbolt scratches the x-shaped scar on his face and blinks. "I remember. I thought it was just Natsu because he forgot his keys again. But…it wasn't. It was this guy, and he said something about how 'inconvenient' it was that I was here, and then…"

He makes a noise in the back of his throat.

"He killed me, didn't he."

Levy brushes a stray azure curl behind her ear. "I'm sorry. Did he say anything else to you? Like why he killed you?"

Doranbolt thinks back, and it's a struggle. Natsu watches as their limited time ticks away and away. Twenty seconds.

"He said…he said something about leaving a message for my boss? I guess he meant Natsu? He told me that they're coming, and that they want to know where he—"

Natsu pulls back as the boy falls back to the floor, dead again. Levy makes a strangled sound. "You could've let him live," she says quietly, sadly, even though she knows it's not true. "You've done it before."

He thinks back to the few times he has done that, and the consequences that came after. It wouldn't have a good outcome for anyone.

Jellal pulls Levy under his arm and Gray turns to Natsu, arms crossed and brow raised. "You didn't even find out what he had to say. Who the hell knows what's coming now?"

"I didn't have the time, bastard. You know what happens when I exceed the limit. One of you could've died," Natsu bites back. "Besides, I can already guess what 'they' want. Whoever the hell they are."

They stand in silence for a few minutes, looking or not looking down at the dead body on the floor. Levy feels a little sick that she's not as disturbed by this as she should be, but how do you deal with life when your pie-baking boss can also bring the dead back to life?

Natsu clears his throat. "Things from here might get a little intense. If you want to quit, I understand."

"Are you kidding," Jellal says incredulously. "The job market is a mess, man. Aside from the seeing people die and you bringing them back to life and them dying again part, this job is pretty great."

Levy rubs her eyes. "If we left, you'd probably burn down the building with yourself inside. Stuck in pie crust and buried in apple filling."

"That being said, I'm still not working more than Sunday to Thursday," the resident tip jar counter nods.

Natsu rolls his eyes. "Maybe I should just fire you instead."

It's two weeks before they finally put up the 'Help Wanted' sign in the window.

x

Lucy is in desperate need of cash.

Her rent is due in a few weeks and she's coming up short. If she misses this payment, her cranky old landlady won't hesitate to kick her to the curb. Sayonara, Miss Heartfilia, it was a displeasure having you live here. I hate you and never wish to see you again. If the cottage opens back up for rent, don't bother coming back to apply. Goodbye and good riddance.

The blonde groans as she drags herself down the sidewalk. Her longtime, childhood dream of being a writer is failing her. That novel she's worked so hard for is slipping through her fingers like melted butter. She needs a better job for the moment. One with a weekly paycheck that will actually keep her afloat and her bills paid.

Suddenly, like a scene out of a movie, her eye catches a sign in a cheerfully colored building across the street. It reads 'Help Wanted' and she knows. She knows that this is it. This is her chance. It's like a message from the universe saying "Lucy, get your shit together and take a job at…" she squints at the cherry neon sign above the doors. The Pie Shop. She hasn't lived in Magnolia for very long, but she has heard of this place. Apparently the citizens of Magnolia are pie fanatics, and this is the place to go for a slice or seven.

She smiles and looks both ways before crossing the street.

New job, here she comes.

{but you did}

tbc
—

end notes: lol jellal was originally going to die but then i was like, "i can't kill him." so be thankful. i kind of feel like you can just tell when i gave up on this. i'm sorry. it'll probably be rewritten at some point. (i say that and yet.)