#bake it

Truly, the only one who remained unscathed was Wendy, his teenage student he'd been training to take over his job.

With her, Lyon was all proud smiles and shoulder pats. Erza felt like she was looking at what kind of father he'd be, and she often had to look away, lest she be betrayed by parts that weren’t her brain.

Jellal was gone but she still hadn't sorted out her feelings for Lyon since their talk. And there were feelings, lots of feelings. But the main one was the panicked feeling, like she was running out of time. And now… time was up.

"Have you..." she swallowed, losing her courage by the minute. Facing down a bear raiding a dumpster? No problem, she was fearless. But anything with feelings? She felt lost. Fumbling. Anxious and confused. "Seen the video?"

Lyon shut the trunk, bending down to ruffle the young dog's ears without answering for a long moment. Toby leaned his whole body into the caress, tongue lulling and massive paw dangling in the air. He was going to be a monster of a dog.

"I forgot to."

Forgot? How… that was not something you’d forget.

"But you knew about it. Them. The Youtube channel."

Lyon's gaze was guilty as he looked up to meet her eyes, "I was too distracted to watch, but I spoke with a fan about it at the bakery. Gray puts the tutorial videos up but he never had permission to put up our lessons. I apologize."

This suddenly got a lot harder. She'd been expecting he'd seen and knew what was on the videos. It wasn't exactly something she could put in front of him and surprise him with, the way Jellal had her.

"I will remind him to take those down."

So he hadn’t forgot; not really. He already knew and had no plans to watch them. Well, of course, he was there. He probably wasn’t as oblivious to his feelings as she was.

"Actually," she cut in, holding up the mail she'd been sitting on. After seeing the video, the bakery's success started making more sense. And so did the letters. "I think the reason Fairy Tail is doing so well is because of Youtube. These are fan letters. They are addressed to the bakery..."

"Let me guess, they are addressed to the very cute couple at the bakery?" he added wryly, little humor behind his smile. "People do love that sort of thing."

Did he have to make this so difficult? She was trying to have a serious conversation here, and already he was deflecting with snide words.

"Strange accusations from a romantic," she said firmly, daring him to contradict her. He didn't. Gray had a loose tongue when drunk, and Erza didn't remember much from that night, but she did distinctly remember those words. It seemed funny, since Gray wouldn't know romance if it bit him on the butt.

"There is a lot of hate and distrust and greed in this world. Trust me, I know; I am an attorney. Appreciating love and beauty is a natural response, I believe."

She hadn't expected that. While she appreciated nature and liked other people, she rarely took the time to think about it, let alone appreciate it. She expected him to follow it up with a flirt, but he was watching her quietly.

"True."

"Erza, I..." he stumbled a bit over his words then and she held her breath, "Appreciate your kindness and generosity. And Magnolia for being my second home. Thank you. And... good-bye."

He leaned forward, placing a very chaste but very emotional kiss on her forehead.

Oh no. No. No. No. It was a slow moving horror movie without the monster or music watching him stride to the car, get in and roll down the road.

While she was frozen, the car pulled away down the driveway. She felt like she was losing him forever, and she was not going to do another Jellal because she was afraid of rejection. But she couldn't seem to call out or move.

Toby, on the other hand, sprung into action.

"Toby, no!”

The puppy tore down the road, loping along side the car, sorely put out he was on the outside instead of the inside. As Lyon slowed down, he launched himself through the open window, pulling his body in and landed in the man's lap.

By the time she'd caught up, the two spilled out the door in a tangle of limbs and yelps.

"Someone does not want you to go," she commented, hiding a laugh at his predicament. He grunted as the dog paw hit his gut, and Erza reached down to help him up. He hesitated, their fingers brushing, before committing. She heaved him up with ease, pushing off Toby and pulling him in.

Face to face, he looked hopeful but his tone held flirty bravado, "Is that someone you?"

"It might be."

"It would be awfully rude of me to disappoint a lady."

She moved to shove him but instead her fingers curled into his collar, tugging him close so their noses brushed and pants mingled. Just like when they first met, he met her gaze too long, too openly, but this time she met it back.

"Stay.” It came out a whisper, “Please?"

He gravitated forward so their lips touched softly, smirking, "Well, if you say it so nicely, I have no choice. May I?”

Rolling his eyes and swiping a hand through his hair unconsciously, he went to work on the muffins. After he got off work the day before, he’d spent a rather leisurely time on Gray’s deck researching recipes and watching the local squirrel mafia have a turf war. He’d discovered a multitude of tweaks to try on the muffins, and he’d found out what local, seasonal fruits were around to experiment with. He sent off several queries to the locals asking about duck eggs, berries and honey, falling into old networking habits without even thinking.

“Wow, could you possibly be more boring?” Gray complained, circling around annoyingly. He zoomed a close up of the batter bowl and Lyon resisted the temptation of dunking the camera. “Do something more… exciting? No wonder Makarov retired for Florida if this is what the old man did every morning.”

Lyon liked the repetitive motions and the quiet of the kitchen in the pre-dawn morning. It was soothing compared to the rat race of his previous job, and Erza had given him a key, so he could start as early as he liked. He wasn’t expected to run the front or interact with customers, so the earlier he started, the earlier he could leave, theoretically. He suspected it was more because she didn’t trust him with customers and less because she was being generous with his schedule. 

For some reason she thought he was an ass. Well, she wouldn’t be the first person to come to that conclusion. 

Drolly, he started narrating everything he did, mockumentary-style. Eventually he started dropping in bits of helpful information, and soon, it was a full-blown tutorial on blueberry muffins with Gray interjecting funny comments and sound effects. 

By the time Erza showed up, most of the work was done for the morning, lined up to cool on the racks Lyon. Meanwhile, Lyon had set up a table of ingredients and equipment for Gray’s filming pleasure so he wouldn’t accidentally trip while bumbling about.

“What is going on?”

“Nothing,” Gray replied over Lyon saying, “Baking."

Neither of them were willing to admit to the buffoonery two grown men had gotten into unsupervised to the scary woman who stood there with her arms crossed, scowling. Gray quickly hid the camera behind his back while Lyon tipped in the next ingredient innocently, like he hadn't been lobbing berries at his brother.

"Is the bread in the works?"

"It is. Thank you for putting things out last night."

"Good." She turned to leave the kitchen.

Lyon threw another blueberry behind her back at Gray, making the other man yelp and nurse the spot on his forehead. Lyon straightened up when she turned back towards him, face serious and hands mixing steadily.

She turned back with a suspicious look.

"Do you boys need supervision."

"Yes."

"No."

Gray laughed boyishly, still hiding the camera, "Hey, Erza, maybe you should take some lessons. This idiot here is not a half-bad teacher."

"I... I am not sure..." she dithered and Lyon smirked, "Nervous?"

"I am not nervous," she protested staunchly, ignoring Gray's leer and Lyon's widening smirk. Frowning, she added, "I have to get the front end ready. Are you sure you have time to play around?"

"Miss Scarlett..."

"Erza. I told you that yesterday."

"Erza then. Come here." He held out his palm, steady and open, smirk dropping to a sincere expression. Reluctantly, she took a few steps his way, gaze seeking his for a trick or tease. He beckoned again, with a soft crook of his fingertips, "Come here. Put on this apron, and I will teach you some basics. We have time, I promise. Trust me."

She reached for his hand, snatching the apron strings, and snorted, "Maybe if you put on a shirt, I would think you were more trustworthy."

"Oh, burn," Gray hooted, ignoring the pot and kettle look Lyon shot his way. Besides, he had an apron on. It wasn't like the skin was uncovered. It just got much too hot back with the ovens on to wear so many layers.

Lyon mockingly pretended to be wounded before starting the lesson, enjoying the way her brow crinkled up with concentration and the tip of her tongue peeking out as she measured the flour so carefully. He tried not to think about when their fingers brushed, how warm her hands were, but not soft. It was a fascinating texture, and one he wanted to explore in detail. Even in a bakery full of smells, he could tell she wore strawberry and vanilla because every time her hair brushed against him, it teased him.

Much the way Gray was going to later, he was sure of it.

"Uggh," she growled, smashing what had to be the fourth egg in as many seconds. Shells littered the area like fallen soldiers and the bowl Lyon had directed her to crack them in was overflowing with eviscerated yolks. "Why is this so difficult?"

"Here, here," Lyon stepped in without thinking. Deftly, he reached around and steadied her hands, chin not quite on her shoulder. Uncurling her death grip on the poor egg, he guided the motion, creating a strong and sharp crack. The yolk plopped perfectly into the new bowl he'd set in front of her. "See? Firm but gentle."

"Okay. Firm but gentle,” she echoed with concentration, holding another egg. He let go of her hands reluctantly, pulling back to give her space. If she noticed, she didn't say anything, too focused on her hands and the bowl. "Ah! Did you see that? I did it!"

"Perfect," he praised as any good teacher should when their student did well, ignoring the other feelings that bubbled up. Taking a good step back, he brushed off his hands and making a show of checking the clock, "Time to end our lesson for the day."

"Tomorrow?" Her eyes were sparkling with triumph and her smile was genuine.

With a silly, sweeping bow, he answered, "Certainly. Anything you wish, I will gladly teach you."

Flushing, she swatted away his gesture, hurrying to go open the front, and he watched her go a little too long and a little too intensely.