Back again with Chapter 3 of Between the Crossfire. I actually anticipated to be it released around Thursday, or Friday at the latest, but my thoughts flowed too quickly and I ended up typing more than I intended to do on the first day. *shrugs* Oh well, hope you enjoy this installment as well. Church... a very fond childhood memory XD.

BTW: I have recently applied as a Beta Reader, so if anyone requests my services, let me know!

Thank you for all the helpful reviews that I have received so far! It makes me feel very motivated that I get these great comments and advice/criticism from all the helpful writers out there :) Please continue to review! I am sorry if I can't write to all of you personally to thank you all for reviewing.

Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN FAIRY TAIL AND ITS CHARACTERS. I just own the plot and this story... No plagiarizing.

The neighborhood was quiet on most Sunday mornings, no business were open or operating during this special day. Today was a regular Mass day for Catholics and Christans alike. Although the majority of England was forced to submit to the Church of England, there were still several that continued to practice Catholicism.

And one of those people is our lovely heroine, Levy McGarden. Being a devoted Catholic, Levy didn't believe in the superstition of four-leaf-clovers and leprechauns that revolved around her community during her childhood days. She believed in only God and merely wished for a humble life that wasn't dangerous in anyway and be too worrisome. But unfortunately, He had other plans for her.

Our other hero, Gajeel, blinked his crimson colored irises at the powerful striking rays of sunlight that seeped from the curtains. He let loose a low growl and cracked his neck several times. One things he hated in the mornings was anything that was the sound of animals and people bustling at the early hours and waking up early. Suddenly, he realized that he was in an unfamiliar room. In an unfamiliar bed.

And an unfamiliar exotic smell of a certain woman.

In a panic, Gajeel threw off the covers of the bed and attempted to climb off. But a piercing pain in his side halted him in his tracks, and made him double over; eventually tumbling off the bed and smack his face on the wooden floor. It was silent for a few minutes before he bellowed loudly.


After hearing some birds flap away in fright, Gajeel sat himself on the bed, his legs criss-crossed and his face leaning on his elbow. With an aching side and a throbbing forehead, the man scowled. Gajeel's sharp eyes began to survey around the room, trying to assessing his complicated situation. What the hell was he? The male's head felt fuzzy and hazy as he tried to recall the previous night's events. Gajeel remembered getting into a fight with a hooligan and... that was about it.

Was he a captured prisoner? Hell, then that meant he was fucked. But from the looks of it, all his valuables were here, including: last night's attire, his favorite metal gauntlets, and his silver pocket watch that he personally designed. Nothing was stolen yet... So he wasn't technically a hostage nor was he robbed from.

He didn't enter a brothel or a prostitute's homeā€¦ Right? Affirmative. The area where he was currenrtly settled was clean and tidy, no blood or body juices on the sheets. Plus, his clothes were folded neatly and his coat was hung behind a chair, not strewen around. No extra lingerie or woman's articles of clothing anywhere on the wooden floor. Gajeel sighed in relief, not wanting to deal with an annoying woman who he had just had sex with.

Thrid point was that he was bandaged up and cared for. Gajeel raised a skeptical pierced eyebrow at his abdomen that had been wrapped tightly with bandages that were tinted a maroon color. A bowl of cold soup lay on a small bedside table, along with a lukewarm biscuit and a new roll of bandages.

Despite the fact that he had doubts about the strange concoction, Gajeel's stomach said otherwise, growling loudly in protest. Bring the soup bowl close to him, Gajeel relished at the fragrant smell of tomatoes and chicken broth and dug in heartily, tearing off the bread and dipping it in the soup. But, he would never admit it to anyone that he enjoyed little pleasures such as this.

"Well this is definitely some messed up shit..." the black haired male sneered after finishing his soup, "Wonder where the hell I am."

In a few seconds, he could hear the thudding of footsteps clambering from below and the sound of he door unlatching. The presence didn't sound threatening, until the bedroom door banged open, to reveal a short blunette clad in a modest Sunday dress with a large parcel in her hand. She panted slightly, taking a quick glance at Gajeel and sighed.

"Oh thank goodness..." she muttered, her knees nearly giving way underneath her, "Nothing bad happened."

Gajeel frowned at the intruder and growled, his hands inching towards his gauntlets. "Who the fuck are you? What are you doing here?" he demanded.

Levy glared up at her temporary boarder and placed her hands on her hips. "Well, for your information, this is MY house and you are apparently in MY room and on MY bed. You have no right whatsoever to ask me why I am doing here."

Now all the thoughts came rushing back to him as Gajeel mentally slapped himself for being so stupid. Of course, the night before, he had come onto this midget bookworm's doorstep while bleeding like there was no tomorrow. But he didn't dare say that in front of the female's face, for he didn't want to get another deadly poke in the ribcage. Gajeel ignored her senseless ranting and focused on slipping on his gauntlets over his forearm. Flexing his fingers, he felt instantly comfortable in the steel coating.

"Anyway," the 24 year old continued, "Was that you earlier who made such a commotion that I had to run from the town plaza back home?"

"What commotion?" Gajeel questioned gruffly, trying to get himself out from the bed.

"The loud curse that apparently woke up everyone in the neighborhood?"

Gajeel thought quietly for a few seconds until his red eyes lit up. "Oh that. I just hit something and yelled fuck."

Levy sighed, placing her hand over her face in exasperation. "Gajeel... This is a community of disciplined and well-educated people, not some gang in the slums."

"Well how am I supposed to know that?" Gajeel retorted, crossing his arms stubbornly. "Hmph. It's their fault for being a bunch of fucking pansies that get scared shitless over everything."

And that was the end of their conversation. Levy was feeling all sour and apprehensive at Gajeel's behavior and conduct, while the latter idly fingered his bandages and throwing mock punches to check he was in shape for his recovery. There was no way to control this... child, as Levy referred to him. Gajeel was like a child, spoiled and always talking back, no matter how unconvincing he was.

"Well now," Levy reprimanded, straitening her posture, "while you were asleep, I took this chance to buy you some new clothes from the bazaar... seeing that your clothes over there are stills stained."

Gajeel then took this time to actually look back at his clothes and realize that they haven't been washed cleaned from the caked blood and that they looked pretty worn.

"... and that you are..." Levy blushed and threw him the thin parcel, "shirtless."

This time, the black haired man gave a double take and looked down at himself, half of his chest covered in thick white bandages and his trousers nearly hanging off his defined hips. Gajeel smirked deviously and leaned to the smaller woman.

"Like what you see here, Shorty?" he asked lecherously, not noticing his slip with the word 'shorty'. Unfortunately for him, the term did not go unnoticed and received a painful pat on his wounded side. He stiffened at the touch as Levy grinned.

"Remember, you are just a mere guest and you must respect the host's house rules." Levy reminded him and sauntered out the door, pleased with her comeback. "And please hurry and change. We don't have all day,"

A slam of the door followed shortly afterwards as Gajeel cocked a confused brow. "We?" he questioned and scratched his shaggy locks. "I hate owing fucking favors," he muttered, ripping the parcel out.

From out of the Magnolia Rental Library, stepped a short blunette dressed in a light summer dress accented with tinges of orange and yellow around the billowing skirt. Her hair was tied up in a simply ponytail with a bandanna that was the equal shade of her dress. As she strolled down the street casually, men stopped in their tracks to ogle at the cute figure.

Beside her strode a man much too large of her size, twice her size to be exact. Compared to the tall male, Levy only came close to the base of his throat. The man was clad in a simple open peasant's vest with a clean work blouse underneath and dark trousers on his legs. His glossy black hair hung behind him, streaming out slightly with pride and arrogance with every step he took.

"Where the hell are we going?" Gajeel snapped after awhile, "Why is everyone else going to same way as we are, bookworm?"

And in truth, many people were heading down the same direction Gajeel and Levy, all dressed nicely as if they were going to a party. It made him sick in the stomach to see nobles and middle-class people strut around in all their greedy glory. Actually, it made him want to give them one punch in the jaw and that would make them think twice before bragging their mouths off.

"Shush, no cursing now," Levy said, placing her finger over his lips. "You are to accompany me to some place very special. And after that, we are going to visit a doctor to check up on your wounds."

"Special? And where that might be?" the 25 year old asked sarcastically, tucking his hands in his pockets.


The man looked up, half expecting them to come to another bookstore or whatever crap. Gajeel nearly blanched at building that stood in front of them, cursing his life over and over for being a fool and staying over at the bookworm's home. "Bullshit..." he grunted.

The pair were currently standing outside a small town church, the pristine white walls shone in the morning light in a holy glow and the brass cross standing straight and tall above the spire of the church. He should have known... All these people were going to fucking Mass! From a few blocks away, he could see a black visible line of people file down into the church doors, doing the sign of the cross as they entered.

"Hell with it." Gajeel said, stopping abruptly in his tracks, "I'm not going in that f-"

But he was cut off as Levy grabbed his elbow and towed him along until they reached the front of the church. She smiled happily, did the sign of the cross, and proceeded into the small corridor that eventually led to the main room. Gajeel, on the other hand, tried to resist the woman's grasp, but before he could do anything, he was forced down into a pew onto his knees.

"Oh my fucking god."

Thanks for reading, and please review if you story alert/mark this story in your favorites! Every little bit helps ;) Let me know what you think.