Maybe

Pairing: Marco Bodt and Mina Carolina. Mentions of couples in the past.

Rating: T for swearing and Mina's surprising foul mouth.

Setting: Modern AU, Downtown Vancouver, Present Day.

Author's notes at end. Enjoy the fic!


The voice that echoed through the underground passages of the sky train station was the perfect mix of jazzy and poppy. It was a voice he would never forget, as in his ears, he found it strong enough to deter him from his usual commute and lead him through the tunnels of the station on a journey to discover where this sound was coming from.

Sure enough, Marco found it right away.

She stood in the corner, in the perfect place for her voice to bounce off the concrete walls with the power of echo. She had no need for any sort of amplification, as her guitar remained unplugged whilst she strummed the strings with a pick held between her fingers.

Walking closer, Marco read the name written on a piece of cardboard propped against her open guitar case to create a crude make-shift billboard.

The Musical Genius of Mina C - tips appreciated

This Mina C seemed rather focused on her music, allowing her vocals to bring the poetic words to life with the power of song. Marco found himself staying, lingering around just a bit, letting the sound of her song enchant him, making him never want to leave.

"... I wondered what life could be, if it happened to be you and me. You meant to not make it so, then why did you have to go?"

Her expression was caught between two things. One of the two things appeared to be joy. Relief. Finally happy to sing a song like this and let it all go. But the second happened to be melancholy. Not much of an explanation, but straight up sadness.

Intrigued by this sensation, and how she looked from his angle. Marco's little habit started itching again, and he always tended to scratch what needed to be scratched. Around his neck hung his camera. The thing was ancient and looked like a modest plastic toy, but that didn't stop him from settling everything into order on the system, aiming it at her, and clicking the shutter button.

The Mina C seemed surprised but flattered that she had gained a new fan like this. Even as she continued on in the song. A smile even came onto her face.

"... When all my thoughts follow through. Did I really love you? I know you might agree, that affection's turned to memories."

On reflex, Marco smiled back. It was a friendly grin, nothing more. Something he usually flashed to people.

Perhaps the grin did more than he expected. The midge of melancholy of her face was now gone, joy taking over completely, and staying in control of her expression right until the song ended.

"Did you love me? No one can see. But did I love you? Maybe."

He couldn't help but adjust his camera once more and take just one more picture of her. She seemed happier, more positive, a look that suit her very well. And in informal terms, she just seemed so damn photogenic.

When the song did end, Marco let the camera hang from his neck strap once more and clapped minutely. "Bravo."

Mina C. bowed her head, "Thank you."

Marco did the polite thing as Mina C. stretched her wrists and fingers out from playing and pulled a few coins out of his pockets, allowing them to fall into their new home on the bottom of her open guitar case, along with other various coins and bills.

"That was pretty good," Marco added on, being as modest as ever. "Was it original?"

Mina C. nodded her head this time, "Yes. I wrote it a while back."

"How long is a while?" he wondered.

She seemed to put some thought into her answer, "About a year ago."

"Well, it's great," Marco re-stated. "I like it a lot."

Mina C. smiled in a flattered fashion, looking down to partially hide the expression on her face, "Thank you. And hey, about them photos..."

Marco was alert, "Oh, yeah. Sorry, but you looked pretty damn photogenic right there. I couldn't help it." The fact would remain that deleting this photo would be a little bit of a problem.

Surprisingly, she did not ask for the photo's termination "Can I see 'em?"

He winced honestly, "Unfortunately, no. It's film."

She raised an eyebrow, "Film?" It was a common reaction to those who chose to use film in such a digital age.

Marco nodded in confirmation, "Yes, film."

She did not seem to let a fact like this deter her from her goal, "All righty then. If I can't see 'em now, then when?"

Marco did give her credit for being so determined to see two little exposures on 120mm film, that for all he knew, could probably the worst photos he had ever taken in her life. "If you're willing to wait, I work in a camera shop around east Pender, if you're interested." If memory served, he had a business card in his wallet. A quick fish in the leather confines and a pull of the stiff piece of paper was enough to confirm this fact. "If you come by in a day or two, I just might have it all developed and ready." He handed her the little card, which she accepted, "The name's Marco, by the way."

She decided to show him the same courtesy of introducing herself, "I'm Mina."

"I can tell," he chuckled, motioning down to the sign inside her guitar case. Despite the good start, Marco knew he had to cut it off quickly. "Hey, I gotta go catch a train now. So see you later maybe?"

"Maybe." Her words seemed painfully neutral. No implications that it would be a yes, but nothing as well to imply that it would be a no.

But at the moment, it was enough for Marco. With all words said, he left.


The most pleasant surprise in his work place that wednesday afternoon was not the extra doughnut his co-worker granted him on break, but the fact that the musical genius by the name of Mina C. actually walked through the shop's front door, her guitar in it's case slung over her shoulders like a backpack. She seemed intrigued by the place, even though the only thing in her mind was the fact that this place looked like the words 'camera' and 'photography' threw up on the entire room. A reaction many people tended to get when walking in here.

Mina noticed him behind the counter, as he was the only one looking over the shop that moment. The same look of spunk was on her face, no melancholy today.

"Afternoon, sir," Mina greeted. "I'm here because I believe a fellow who looked a lot like you snapped a few photos of me in the station the other day, and told me to come to this location. I am in the right place, right?"

"You are," Marco replied, trying to hide the surprise on his face. "I didn't know you'd actually come though. I would've printed them out by then." He had simply developed the film into negatives in the dark room that day, and had yet to even see them properly yet.

"So should I come back later?" Mina offered, leaning her elbows on the front counter casually.

Marco chose to compromise, "No. Just stay a moment." He turned around and walked into the back of the store, remaining there for a few seconds before returning back. In his hands, he had what looked like a thin plastic sleeve. "You could look at the negatives."

It was better than nothing. Setting her guitar down for better comfort, Mina looked curiously as Marco placed the sleeve on the counter, taking one strip of negative images out and holding the film up to the light. He was just as new to seeing these as Mina was, and was curious to see how this roll of film turned out.

Marco would at least show her the two exposures he took of her that day. Once he found the pair, he took that one strip out of the sleeve and handed it to her. "Be careful with this, okay?"

"I will," Mina promised. In her hands, she took the negative strip gently between her fingers, holding it up to the light to get a better look at the grey image. She seemed happier in one of them than she did in the other. But that did not stop any of the two images from being any less mesmeric. "You're good at this," she remarked genuinely and endearingly.

"Well, it's not all on me, though," Marco admitted, trying his best to be modest. "I wasn't lying about you being photogenic."

Mina could've blushed visibly at this moment, but perhaps he wouldn't notice the slight change of colour to her face as she heard his remark. She brushed it away quickly, "Thank you. So, what do you do with these then?" She spoke in regards to the film strips.

"I can scan and print them, if you want," Marco offered. His eyes caught onto store's clock, watching as the hour hand moved closer to the 5:45 hour. "My shift's gonna end though. If you really want them, it's best to come back later this week."

Mina shook her head, "I'm not gonna put you through the trouble."

"They're good shots of you though," Marco remarked, pulling the negatives into the sleeves once more. "And I wouldn't mind really, it's kinda my job to print photos out. Maybe if you released an album or something, it could be the cover."

Mina laughed at such a possibility, "Ha, maybe."

"You're good enough to try though," Marco stated. The only song he had ever heard her sing still hung in the memory of his mind, the chances of it coming out only possible with the passing of time.

"Well, it would be nice to start playing in places that aren't street corners," Mina admitted. Shrugging her shoulders, she slung her guitar case over her body once more. "Hey, do you take the train to get home?"

"Uh, yeah," Marco answered. "I get off at Patterson, you?"

"Collingwood," Mina replied. "Care to ride with me?"

Marco shrugged his shoulders. There wasn't really much of a reason for him to say no. Mina seemed like a decent person; perhaps a little too friendly, but all in all, kind, gentle, a maybe a bit self-important as well. Besides, having someone to ride the train with was usually fun. "Yeah, why not? Just gimme 5."

Being the patient person she was, Mina waited.


In a matter of minutes, the two had walked out of the shop, Marco with his camera slung around his neck, and Mina with her guitar on her back, just as always. He had a different camera with him this time, it was sleek and black, and no one needed a closer look to tell that it did not require film.

The question: Just how many cameras does this dude own? poked at Mina's mind, but she never let it leave her lips.

The walk to the station was accompanied by small talk. Easy questions, nothing serious.

'Do you live around the area?'

'How long have you been in the city?'

'Where did you move here from?'

All answered with terms of endearments. No scars of the past seemed to be touched. The tone was kept fond, as the memories of childhoods and upbringings were brought up and explained.

Mina answered honestly. An upbringing in a town a 2 hour train ride away under a caring father's eye, a move to the city after high school graduation to attend post-secondary, a degree in music comp and tech at her disposal, and a simple day job to pay the bills while the whole busking deal existed for extra cash. It was as simple as that. A past she was happy with, a present she was content with, but a future that she could only be curious about. There wasn't truly much to say where she would be in the next few years, her degree able to take her anywhere as long as she was patient and hardworking. Therefore, Mina chose to not bore him with all the details of where on earth she would end up in the next few years.

Marco seemed to be a slightly different story. A peaceful childhood with a loving family over on Vancouver Island, and a very interesting time during his college days, all culminating with his degree in photography. It at least explained why he had more than 1 camera, and it seemed to foreshadow the possibility of him having more. A dorky photography obsessed geek was what he came off to be, which Mina found amusing. But something did strike her curiosity. As they walked on the street and approached the entrance to the sky train, Marco had not once mentioned why he had left his near-cushy life on the island and came to the city.

Mina was curious to why he simply stated that he moved to Vancouver in one sentence. No explanation, just a random move 6 months ago. Was a job at a camera shop really that well-paying that he would move to an entirely new city?

They walked down the station steps and through the tunnels, past the spot where Mina had been busking an hour before. It was a rather slow day, but she was alright with the amount she earned.

Passing the posters showcasing flamboyant advertisements and paper stands tended to by indifferent workers, they made it to the platform.

Their conversations so far had been innocent and playful, so what was the harm with more small talk?

"You used to the trains yet?" Mina asked, just as the scheduled ride shone it's light in the dark tunnels, making it's presence known to the passengers patiently waiting for it.

Marco seemed tolerant to them, but not entirely accepting, "They're all right. Wouldn't say I'm used to them yet though. There weren't trains like these back home."

The skytrain moved smoothly to the platform, where once it stopped, automatically opened it's doors to let the current passengers out, and the newer ones in. Mina stepped in first, the area she subconsciously chose being the train car near the back. Not many people were present, as some preferred the front at this time of day, and the car only held a small handful of people, including the duo.

It was quaint and cozy, something Mina found herself enjoying in her years living in the city. She continued the conversation as she took a seat, "No trains like this? Then how'd you get around?"

"There was a magical invention of transportation introduced to the town years ago," Marco started, acting a bit dramatic. "It's called a public bus."

Mina chuckled at his joke, "Oh, definitely. That magical mode of transportation's pretty popular, if you ask me."

Marco agreed, his voice in a playful tone as he spoke, "Oh, of course! Worldwide, no doubt." He sat across from Mina, the little walkway of the skytrain car being the only thing between them, that and Mina's guitar, which she set in front of her to hold onto. As the train moved, Mina found herself glancing out the window right behind Marco. He himself could have been doing the same with the window behind her, but Marco seemed to be looking at something else. He took the camera around his neck in his hands and flipped the switch, "Hold still for a second, will you?"

Mina refocused her eyes on him and chuckled amusedly, "More photos? Wow, what a surprise from a guy like you."

"You look photogenic, okay?" Marco admitted, fiddling with the settings on the camera. Being digital, this one took less time to prep for shots. And from how fast he could customize everything, Marco really knew what he was doing.

"It's pretty dark though," Mina admitted, as the train was still underground. The illumination of the afternoon sun would greet them once the train left the tunnels and came to the outside world.

"The lights here are good," Marco reasoned, nudging up to the electric lights of the train car. He took the camera to his eyes, and once the lens was focused perfectly, he clicked the shutter button.

As he checked his shot, Mina couldn't help but speak up more about his hobby. "Hey, shutterbug, mind if I take a look for myself?" At least she didn't have to wait several days this time.

Marco looked up at her, eyes suddenly wary, "I uh... I guess."

"C'mon," Mina insisted. "I won't bite. And here..." Grasping her guitar case, she unzipped the nylon cover and pulled it off, unsheathing the sunburst-toned parlour-sized instrument to the world. She rid the guitar of the case and handed it over to him, "Here. I'll let you hold the love of my life if you let me hold yours."

It seemed like a good compromise in Marco's eyes. He did depend on that camera a lot, as it did happen to cost more than the modest plastic model he had been using the other day, and Mina seemed to depend on her guitar plenty. "All right, deal."

They exchanged items quickly, the guitar now in Marco's arms and the camera now in Mina's hands.

The instrument was sturdy and very satisfying to hold. The strings were as light as the body, and sounded crisp as Marco's thumb strummed across them. The last time he held a guitar was years ago, something his college roommate let him play around with. All he knew were three chords. But it was better than nothing. He did not bother to play it as Mina held his camera and looked over the picture, he didn't even mind when she presumably started looking through what else he took on that memory card. There was nothing that he truly wanted to hide.

"How long have you had this thing?" Marco asked.

Looking up from the camera screen, Mina jogged her memory, "Uh... since I was 11, I suppose." The guitar had gone through so many upgrades and renovations over the years that Mina could barely recognize it from the day where she unwrapped the instrument on a very joyous christmas morning.

Marco seemed surprised, "Really? That long?" The sunburst body of the guitar had scratches here and there, all accumulating from the natural wear and tear that came with playing a guitar regularly.

"Well, yeah, it's my oldest one," Mina admitted. She did have a few more back in her flat, but there was something about the charm and nostalgia of playing her first instrument, something that stayed by her side for years and never let her down, was very pleasant to her.

"Hm." He strummed the strings once more. "It sounds swell."

"It's suppose to, I compose and song write with that thing," Mina foretold, playing around with the camera settings herself in an attempt to give the art of image-capture a try.

Marco smiled, "Of course. You're a pretty good song writer."

Mina seemed pleasantly indifferent to his remark, "You've only heard one of them."

"I liked it though," Marco admitted, mindlessly strumming with the only three chords he knew. "The one you played in the station the other day."

"It was written a year ago," Mina reminded. "It's just one of the only original things I may be comfortable with performing in public."

"Who'd you write it about?" Marco asked, thought and curiosity backing up his question.

Mina suddenly stopped fumbling with the camera, eyes moving independently to look at him. Her levels of comfort with this guy were new. She only knew him for less than a week, should she really bore him with the story? She said what came upon her mind, "Well, uh... there was this guy..."

"And?"

"He left."

Marco raised an eyebrow, "He left? Why so?"

Mina shrugged her shoulders, "Beats me, really."

"Then where is he?"

"Probably somewhere in the states right now." Mina could only shrug as the train reached exited the tunnels, the sunlight now beaming into the place. The train stopped at a station to let other passengers on, but for whatever reason, the car remained as barren as it already was. "Kissing another pair of lips, most likely."

"So you wrote a song about him?" Marco asked. By now, he figured that she was done with his camera, and handed the guitar back to her, which she took back after giving him his camera.

"Hey, I could've tracked down his new home, trashed his car, thrown eggs at his house, or gotten him fired from his job after what he did to me," Mina said with utmost seriousness. Her words were odd and farfetched, but her words spoke from the heart. "Writing a song about that fucker is probably the nicest thing I could do to him."

Marco almost chuckled at her statements, and at her colourful choice in words, but the look in her eyes told him not to. He was still curious however, "What'd he do to you then?"

"I told you," Mina said, taking her guitar back in her arms. "He left."

"Oh, okay," Marco agreed. It was honestly not the best explanation, but he took what he could.

"And well," Mina started, strumming her guitar gently. "Lets just say, if I stayed with him, at this point of my life, I would've been a married housewife who stayed at home all day and did nothing. I mean, me? Married? That just doesn't make sense."

This compensated well for the previous vague explanation. Marco looked surprised, "Married? You were engaged?"

"What other kind of engagement between two people is there?" Mina shrugged off. She honestly did not seem too heartbroken over it all. It was good for her to move on. "Besides, it may have been him who got down on one knee, him who set up the wedding, but him to get cold feet at the last second and high tail it outta the chapel." She looked out the window as the train started to move once more, the memory burning in her brain like acid. "I'm over him anyway."

"Well, they say that self-expression can help the grieving process," Marco added on, realizing it was best to stop bombarding her with questions.

Mina raised an eyebrow, "Who says that?"

Marco shrugged, "I dunno, just made it up."

She appeared to remain indifferent to the main topic of the conversation, "It's just a song though."

"Yeah," Marco agreed, nodding his head. "A great song."

Mina was intrigued by his fascination with her little number. It was merely a little bit of poetry she pushed out of her brain accompanied chords a mere 7 year old could perform. People liked it enough to give her a quarter while busking, but she never expected someone to like it enough to still remember it. "Why do you like it then?"

"Hm?"

"My song," she re-stated. "Why do you like my song?" She really couldn't see why. It was short, crude, and either named cleverly, soulfully, lazily, or pretentiously.

Marco let his mind think for a second, furrowing his eyebrows as he clasped his hands together, letting his camera hang from around his neck with it's strap. "I... hm..." He never thought it through really. He did like the sound of it, but what Marco found himself remembering the songs for was the lyrics.

Did you love me? No one could see. But did I love you? Maybe.

It spoke to him, in ways more than just a literal sense. Marco chose to be honest with her, "Well, the lyrics, mainly."

Mina seemed lightly flattered, enough to smile, "Really?" She spoke not in an unimpressed matter, but in a surprised one.

"And you're singing, of course," Marco assured, being sure to include the soothing alto that lured him to the source of the song in the first place. "It's all good, but your lyrics..." He was not too sure how to word it.

"What about them?" asked Mina.

"They spoke to me," Marco admitted honestly. It was as simple as that. They spoke to him, he enjoyed it when they did, and therefore, would remember the song for a while.

"Spoke to you, eh?" Mina comprehended. Simple, yet informative. Good enough to her, but curiosity still tugged at her mouth to question further. "So you're telling me that you've got an asshat ex of yours that left you weeks before your wedding and didn't return?"

"In some ways, yes," Marco started. "She didn't leave me though. Not in the way your guy did, at least."

Mina raised an eyebrow in concern, "... did they die?"

Marco actually managed a laugh, the smile on his face seeming so natural as his eyes lit up in innocent short-lived joy, "No, she didn't die." He got back to the conversation quickly, "The lying cheating whore broke my heart though."

The blunt reality of his situation hit Mina like a truck. A sentence composed of 7 words was enough to explain every thing to Mina. It made sense now. Vaguely, though. Her face changed from play-along amused to stare-into-the-broken-glass-window shock. "Oh..."

Marco seemed mediocrely comfortable with speaking of this. Eyes looking down at the floor, his mouth was pressed into a firm line that was neither a smile nor a frown. It was neutral, just like the emotion showing in his eyes. He wasn't suffering from it, he wasn't proud of it, but instead, Marco was enduring it, as if he was slowly starting to get used to telling this part of his past. But looking at the way he said it, it was very possible that Mina was one of the few people Marco had informed in a while. Or ever.

With his neutral expression, Marco tried to lean on the more positive side, doing his best to remain lighthearted. The last thing he wanted was this pleasant train ride to become sadder than soggy bread. "Yeah... Kind of explains it well, don't it?"

Mina nodded her head as the information sunk in slowly, "Yeah, it does. I um... not to be nosy..." She tried to chose her words carefully. "... but when did this all happen?"

"6 months ago," Marco recited, not even putting to much thought into an answer he already knew too well. The smile fighting to take over his face was soon failing, as the negative thoughts of his break up clouded his mind. He absolutely hated thinking about it. How he wanted to scream at her in anger when he found out, how he wanted to shut himself away in a room forever, and how he wanted to cry until he couldn't breathe anymore. But Marco knew the truth, it was too late for him to do any of that, especially now.

The cheating whore had broken his heart months ago, and as much as he would do anything to change that fact, it was all in the past. Marco had already freaked out, packed his bags, and jumped on the first ferry away from the island. There wasn't any going back at this point, just as there was not a single reason to hold onto the past like this. Grieving took time, that was true, but he was aware that he grieving did not need to take a century to pass. As long as he tried, he was sure he could get over this completely. Marco still had to answer her though, in order to reciprocate how she answered him.

"6 months ago, I return to the apartment and she tells me the news; like she read it off the paper or something," Marco foretold. The details of his experienced would be way too upsetting if he explained even further. He gave what was on the surface, at least. "It was odd though, because how does one casually slip, 'Ay, I'm shaggin' your workmate because I don't think you and I are working out' into a dinner conversation?"

Mina could only shrug her shoulders, her words treading on sensitive territory, "Very subtly, I assume."

Sighing, Marco leaned back and looked out the window, the scenery changing and changing as the train moved. Explaining his story of sadness was physically exhausting to him. His head hurt, his shoulders ached, and the pain behind his eyes that always swelled whenever he spoke of the past was slowly growing. Was he going to cry? Weep? No. Not in front of her. Not now.

What was he going to do? Speak more of this? Hell no. There wasn't much else to tell. All he could really do was suck in a breath and end the topic there. "Well, it's all in the past now. I've moved on. New city, new flat, new job..." He rubbed his tired eyes, "You know the process, right?"

"Totally." Assuming that Marco was speaking of the grieving process, Mina nodded. Not vaguely, as if she were someone trying to sympathize. But truthfully, because the fact seemed to be that Mina knew exactly what he was talking about. She knew exactly what the process was, heck, she went through it. She went through it alone, with nothing much but her mind and music, all trying to keep her faltering heart in the process of beating. By now, Mina knew she was past it. It took a year for her to get over Bertholdt, but honesty, if all it took was a year for her to get out of the emotional hell she found herself trapped in, then that was undoubtedly a very small price to pay.

But looking over at Marco, she could tell that he was still in the grieving process. Stuck in the goddamn middle of it. One could never tell from a single look at it, but everyone always showed their true colours when speaking of the memories that burned.

Mina was honestly at a loss for words. What else was there to say right now? Marco had said enough, had explained enough, and it was pretty obvious that talking about it more and more would just be increasingly exhausting to him. All they could really do was stare in silence. Her expression was soft and cautious, her eyes down to the ground. But his was tired and fed up, his gaze set up on the random advertisements placed on the train car's ceiling.

Fingernails strumming lightly on the strings, the sound of Mina fingerpicking her guitar filled the train car, along with the hum of the engine and the rattling rolling of the wheels on the track. The few passengers all seemed indifferent to the little melodies suddenly audible, only a few glancing over to see what was making the new sound, but never anything more than a quick look.

When Mina finally spoke, her words came out a bit suddenly, "So..."

Marco's attention was caught, his eye now looking at her while his posture remained leaned back.

Mina knew she had to be careful when speaking, as the last thing she really wanted was to make him feel more trouble than he really was. "... is her name 'Lying Cheating Whore?' Or is that just an alias or something?"

Somehow, Marco laughed. Not an obnoxious guffaw, or a schoolgirl giggle, but a genuinely amused laugh that managed to at least tug the corner of his mouth into a very small smile. Her words were simply random, random and unexpected. It really did come as an amusing surprise when she said them.

Interest caught, Marco sat up with a modest expression on his face, "Technically speaking, no. It's just a little nickname I've given her."

The conversation now lightening, Mina found it getting easier and easier to speak, "Really? Hm, it's a bit informal and vulgar if you ask me, but to each his own, I guess."

"Hey, my 'Lying Cheating Whore,' my informal and vulgar nickname," Marco defended with satirical passion, his expression making it obvious that he was simply joking with this.

Mina nodded her head, her hands now strumming on the guitar as she fingered a few chords, "All right, if you say so." She played a few random notes, her mind thinking as she did so, "But 'Lying Cheating Whore' though, hm... mind if I borrow that?"

Marco raised an eyebrow, "Borrow it? For what? A song?"

"Yes, for a song," Mina confirmed. "It just has a bit of a catchy vibe to it. Makes a good title, at least. It'll be honest in regards to what the song's about, no doubt."

Marco chuckled, "Then tell me, how would a song called 'Lying Cheating Whore' go then?"

"Hm... not too sure." Her fingers strummed again randomly, trying to find a good impromptu tune that her hypothetical song could attach itself to. She suddenly prepped her voice to sing. "Maybe... Lying cheating whore, I don't love you no more..."

The sound of Mina's jazzy alto filling the train car uttering cuss words was undeniably hilarious. In Marco's eyes at least, as he rolled his eyes and had plenty of trouble in stifling his very existent laughter.

"You fucked my work mate, and now I'm in a different place..." Mina continued. The occurrence of the f-word flowing in Mina's vocals was definitely still as funny as the rest of the song, but as he laughed, Marco took notice to one elderly lady on the train, who was now looking at Mina as if she were a vile slug who needed to be exterminated.

If there were awards for receiving very dirty looks from the elderly, Mina would win a dozen in a heart beat.

Marco had a small sense of responsibility to him, therefore, he tried to do what was proper and quickly shushed Mina, stopping her song in a second as he motioned over to the old woman in the corner.

"-what? Shit." The melody was cut off quickly as Mina looked over to where Marco was motioning to, suddenly feeling embarrassed for being a little more louder than she intended to, and just a bit humoured to receive such a look from a stranger. It was not every day one disappointed the elderly. "Oh, I'm sorry, ma'am! Sorry!" She muted the strings with her palm quickly, looking back to Marco, who was still trying to hide his snickering.

If there were awards given for pissing off senior citizens, Mina would win a dozen of them in a heart beat.

The woman still look offended, but to her credit, she dealt with her offence rather well and simply turned away from the two idiots singing songs in the train.

Marco's laughs wore off, but the familiar feeling of a smile still took his face. "Ha, it's been a while since I laughed like that."

"Really?" Mina questioned. He seemed like such a happy guy, or at least, a guy with a good sense of humour, even with everything he had underneath.

Marco nodded in confirmation.

"You should do it more," she encouraged in a mellow voice. "It's a good look for you."

Marco's expression was modest, "Maybe."


A/n: I know Marcomina is a rarepair, but hey, someone's gotta write fics for them. Just check it with this fic, I just might entertain all five of us! And who knows, maybe this will end up as more than a one shot. I may expand and continue on this idea, creating a good middle, and perhaps an ending. Maybe if I'm motivated enough to do it. Anyway, hope you liked it, and I hope you review because I really want to know how I did on this one. Trying to take my writing more seriously now.

Disclaimer, I don't own a thing. Characters created by Hajime Isyama, author of Shingeki No Kyojin.