Disclaimer: I do not own Soul Eater.

Weaving In and Out
by. Poisoned Scarlett

This is what things had come to.

Seventy miles an hour, road lamps flickering as they sped by.

It was almost ironic, how their perceptions were so clear on different things at the same time.

The headlights of oncoming cars in the adjacent lane seemed to zoom past them, though they were few and far between. Rather, the two partners of gold and white hair were caught in a dangerous dance of heavy nighttime traffic in their own lane. Rushing air buffeted the female passenger as her driver weaved in and out of lanes, the cars in front of them being far too slow and getting in the way of their Kishin hunt. She gripped the white rider with everything she had, their speed picking up with every second. This was the right way, Maka was sure of it. Her soul perception told her so.

Soul's perception, as his meister's arms wrapped around him ever tighter, told him something else entirely. Somehow, someway, he thought through things even as his speedometer began registering speeds nowhere near legal. Call it instinct, or that moment when you realize something and time stands still. Whatever it was, it kept Soul from slamming into the eighteen-wheeler in front of him as he contemplated the nagging thoughts in his head. Maka's yelp just before he weaved into the other lane sent a shiver down his spine. He should really pay more attention.

"You alright!" Soul called back to her over the roaring winds, sounds of motors and burning rubber all around them.

Maka's voice being against the turbulent air, she was forced to lean and speak in his ear: "Always with you!"

That was it. That's exactly what he was thinking about as the cars rushed by, their irritated honking at his dangerous driving not even registering in Soul's ears as the burning thought took center stage in his mind. It was comments like Maka's just now that made him question what they were to each other. He couldn't help but feel, as his meister perceptions of souls increased, so too had his own perceptions about them increased over the years. Just what the flying fuck did Maka mean when she said that? Who the hell says something like that in the first place? Who says that without meaning something else underneath?

Just what was Maka playing at…?

The kishin's on the other side of town, Maka thought to herself. So as long as Soul keeps this pace up, we should be there in no time. Her perception had become insanely accurate, so refined in previous years that Kishins trembled within miles of her and her Deathscythe. It had taken years; long, arduous, mission-filled years, but they'd done it together. The ultimate pair, the green eyed woman mused as she buried her face in Soul's black leather jacket. With his raw strength and her ability to wield it flawlessly, they were perfect for each other.

In every sense of the word?

"Freakin' peachy," she heard her weapon growl, immediately stealing her attention away from the random words that came to mind.

In front of them, the road stretched long and narrow. Above them, the moonlight filtered through a haze of mist. And before her, Soul Eater hunched forward and revved his bike, as if urging it to go faster in order to leave his frustrating thoughts with the dust.

"What?" Maka asked, frowning.

"What what?"

"What was that all about?"

"What was what all about?"

"That comment – 'freakin' peachy'." Maka quoted, annoyed with him now. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." Soul muttered, shaking his head. "Nothing's wrong."

She stayed silent for a moment, a calculating silence that went unnoticed by Soul due to the roaring wind in his ears. But then she leaned forward, mouth by his ear. It made his hands tighten involuntarily on the handlebars, his jaw compulsively clench as she breathed: "If something's bothering you, you can tell me. The last we need is for you to lose your focus while we're fighting this Kishin."

"I know that, Maka." Soul sneered, veering out of the way of a slow car. He vaguely heard the driver honk, the sound dissolving with the speed they were gaining.

"Then what is it? Hurry, we're almost there!" Maka impatiently commanded, lifting her gaze from him to the road ahead. Her eyes shimmered with her dangerous skill, a ethereal garnet that could pierce through flesh to soul.

Soul understood what it was like to be watched like that. Although she didn't do it intentionally, when she did direct those burning orbs of emerald at him, they strung him up in a way he couldn't describe. It was like she knew every dirty secret he was hiding, every thought he tried desperately to conceal from her: every single aspect of his life revealed in a single glance. Like a book, being read for her own entertainment.

Being put back on the shelf for a while…

"I said it was nothing! You don't gotta' know every goddamn thing that goes on with me!" Soul snapped, regretting it when she stilled behind him.

"Well, sorry for trying to see what's wrong with my partner!" Maka replied, icily. Soul hung his head a little, guilty for taking out his anger on her. "I'll be sure to just leave you alone next time you need someone!"

"Maka—!"

"Go – we're close." Maka interrupted, staring ahead stonily. Her eyes narrowed. "Actually, we're here. Turn right."

"But that's off the road—!"

"Turn right, Soul!"

He obeyed, the bike bouncing up roughly the instant it hit gravel. The ride down the slope was bumpy and Maka held on tightly when the motorcycle slid across mud, steadying soon after with Soul's expert maneuvering. Her eyes sought out the Kishin on the run, able to pinpoint it dead ahead. She could almost see it running on its four legs, its scaly back catching the moonlight colors of green and red.

"Faster! We're catching up – there, do you see it?"

"That ugly thing? Yeah." Soul smirked, steering right so they could come up beside it. Maka stood on the foothold, holding onto his shoulders for support. Her pigtails whipped around her face, eyes locked on the monster that desperately tried to evade them. They had to time this right or else it would escape again and Maka wasn't up for another chase across plain desert land with the moonlight bearing down on them; reminding them of how late it was and how their airplane ticket expired at eight in the morning sharp.

"Now!" Maka shouted, leaping off the motorcycle. Her foot collided with the beasts side, a screech of pain nearly drowning the roar of the motorcycle. As the beast rolled across rocky surface, Maka sliding to a stop feet away from the monster, she was not disappointed when Soul quickly transformed and landed in her hand after parking his motorcycle; sloppily, but it was better than nothing. The beast's eyes widened in fear and it scrambled away, missing a beheading by a hairs breadth. "Hey! Get back here – dammit!"

"Smooth, Maka." Soul taunted. "Let it get away again, why don't you?"

"Shut up! No one wants to hear your commentary!" Maka snapped, shrewdly. She sprinted after the beast, astounding Soul with her speed yet again. She had always been rather slow, something he noticed in the beginning of their partnership. He'd called her out on it once, jokingly, but it must have hit her hard, because the next thing he knew she was taking five mile runs every morning before school until she improved her time.

"Don't you get tired?" Soul asks, pouring himself a glass of orange juice. Maka sits on the chair, her plate clean of their breakfast. She's tying up her wet hair, having just gotten out of the shower.

"Of what? Running?"

"Yeah. I mean, you wake up every day at four in the morning." Soul says, watching her adjust her pigtails on her head. She frowns, noting one was lopsided, and reties it. "I don't think I could ever do that." He yawns, feeling as if he needs another three hours to feel somewhat alive.

"It's not that bad after a while," she smiles at him. "You get used to it."

But it's what's said between the lines that bothers him.

It must have been terrible in the beginning.

"HAH!" Maka shouted, driving her scythe into the beast. The blade caught its tail, slicing it clean off. The Kishin screeched in pain once more, attacking with its claws. The speeding floor suddenly came to a grinding halt, gravel and grit kicking up as Maka ducked a swipe from the monster and regained her balance. It careened into her in her daze, sending her back a few steps, but she recovered quicker than it thought she would, and she tackled into it fearlessly, stabbing her scythe into its soft underbelly at a seconds notice.

"Your soul is mine," she ground through her teeth, tearing straight through until nothing was left but a floating red orb. She shook the venomous blood off her scythe, tossing Soul up in the air and watching him land on his haunches fully human; hands stuffed in his pockets, a curling grin stretching across his face.

"I don't get why we're still getting these kiddy jobs." Soul commented, reaching for the corrupt soul. "Lord Death's got nothing to give us anymore, huh? Why doesn't he just let us off the hook? We don't need to go to school anymore…we practically graduated."

"Lord Death doesn't want you to get rusty with disuse," Maka explained, as Soul tipped his head back and swallowed the soul. "If you don't continue your training, you won't be able to qualify for the Deathscythe Examination in fall." She warned, Soul exhaling in satisfaction.

"I'll cross that bridge when I get there." Soul dismissed carelessly, pacifying her with a toothy grin. "You're my meister, Maka, you wouldn't let me fail. You're practically the only one in our year who managed to turn their weapon into a Deathscythe!"

Maka preened, hands on her hips. "Of course. I promised you, Soul. I would never break a promise to you."

His grin faltered. There it was again, that tightening of his throat and chest. He dropped his eyes to the floor, jamming his hands back into his jackets pocket. It was things like that – words like that – that messed with his cool. He didn't know how to deal with them anymore because they meant something now, unlike before. He couldn't bat it away, shrug it off, forget it, anymore. Now they replayed in his mind during the darkest of nights; a broken record with no end.

"Always with you."

"No matter what."

"You can always count on me, Soul!"

"I would never break a promise to you."

"Always."

Always. She had taken to using that word now, always. He'd say something and she'd smile that sweet smile of hers and he'd watch her mouth work around that word: "always". It was that one word that befuddled him the majority of the time. He simply couldn't wrap his mind around the forever she was promising him…

"Soul?" Maka drew him from his thoughts, making him notice her creased brows and frown. "You alright?"

"Uh, yeah." He coughed, checking around him. "Wanna' leave now? I don't think there's anything left for us here anymore." He kicked a stone from his path, walking to where he'd abandoned his motorcycle in the heat of the moment. "Maka?"

"Oh, yeah! Sorry!" Maka caught up with him, walking back to the shadowed outline of his motorcycle they could see from the distance. It was on its side: he must have simply dumped it in his hurry to reach his meister. He would be complaining about the new grazes and scratches on the paint later, Maka absently thought, and then he'd blow his cash on repainting it. She'd get angry because half that cash was supposed to be used for rent and groceries but he'd wave her off and say riding with style was more important than that.

She didn't know if he'd grown fond to pain. She'd always hit him with her book after that, he should know better by now. After all, she'd partnered up with a lazy-ass, not a dumbass. Perhaps, after suffering so much pummeling by the spine of her books, his skull had hardened enough to take it. The thought made a smile crawl on her face because that meant she'd have to hit him harder in order to get the same result from years ago: which was an unconscious Soul sprawled on the floor mumbling nonsense for a few minutes.

"Hey, Maka?"

"Yeah?"

"'Star wants us to go to the amusement this Saturday." Soul relayed. "Wanna' go?"

"Amusement park?" Maka echoed, thoughtfully. "We don't have anything to do on Saturday, do we?"

"Not me, I dunno' about you."

"Nope." Maka confirmed. She would have nothing to do aside from studying or passing the time watching television while her weapon holed himself up in his room with his music. "Sure, let's go. Who else is coming?"

"Kid, Liz, Patty, Tsubaki. He said he'd try to get Kilik and the twins to come. Ox and Kim are out. Harvar doesn't like theme parks." Soul rattled on, as they approached his motorcycle. She had run quite a lot and she felt inwardly smug about this. She was the fastest female in their class, as well as the strongest combat-wise. Patty came close second, nearly besting her once, but she still had a lot to learn before she could pin her down like she had the rest of their class. "…end up causing a scene again. Man, so uncool."

"Black Star always causes scenes." Maka snorted. "It's like he needs to take the spotlight three times a day or he'll spontaneously combust."

"That's one way of putting it." Soul grinned. "He ain't as bad as he was before, though."

"Somehow," she mumbled.

"Everyone's changed – even you've changed." Soul added, and she looked at him strangely.

"I didn't change."

"Yeah, you did. You're not as violent as you were before." He grinned at her narrow-eyed look. "And you can take a fail without having a mental breakdown. That's new."

"You've changed, too!"

"How so?" He challenged.

"For one, you're more confident about your music now." Maka pointed out, watching his shoulders stiffen. "You're also a lot calmer. You don't let yourself get carried away by the crowd like before."

"I never did that!"

"Yes, you did! You and Black Star always did that!"

He scowled. "Just because I didn't hole myself up in the library all day doesn't mean I followed the crowd, Maka."

"I didn't mean it like that!" Maka argued. "You just…you always tried so hard to fit into that mold that everyone said you needed to. I don't know when you stopped trying, but it was sometime before you became a Deathscythe. You just told everyone to fuck off and somehow that made you more cool. You completely redefined what they believed was cool…" She trailed off, pinking a little when she noticed his intense stare. "And I guess that was cool in itself."

"Do you think it's cool?" He asked.

"What? That you basically became synonymous with cool?" Maka tried to lighten the mood to no avail. That look in his eye didn't falter. That was another thing that had changed about him: he was more serious about things than before. Sometimes it was small things, often it was the important things. But his maturity level had rose to a completely different level, perhaps due to the fact that he was a Deathscythe now and he would soon be burdened by heavy responsibilities. "Yeah…but I always thought you were cool, Soul."

He rose a brow. She shrugged, sheepishly smiling.

"I did. Even before I realized you had a cool complex," she grinned at his vexed look but continued, "I thought you were cool. It's just the vibe you gave off. You still give off that vibe, but I think now it's more…soothing."

"Soothing?" He repeated, incredulously. "I'm soothing?"

She clasped her hands behind her, defensive. "Yes. You're soothing, Soul. What of it?"

He snorted, shaking his head. "Just never thought anyone would describe me as soothing. I'm the guy that pisses you off by just looking at him, Maka. I've been called a shitload of names before, but never soothing..."

"Well, to me you're soothing." Maka clarified, smiling brightly at him. His scowl softened, the edge in his eyes rounding off something soft.

"Really?"

"Always!" She laughed, and he stopped completely. She slowed as well, watching a tumble of emotions fall past his eyes. "Soul…?"

"Why do you always do that?" He demanded, startling her.

"Do what?"

"That – say those things! Say stuff like that!" Soul spat, further stunning her. She didn't understand where all the rage had come from. "It pisses me off because I don't know why you say it!"

"Soul, I'm not following. What're you talking about?" Maka tried to slow him down but he seemed to only grow more furious.

"Some of the things you tell me make no sense to me! We're partners, Maka, you don't say stuff like that to your weapon partner! There's a difference between being friends and being more than that! People have been talking about us for the past few months! It's uncool!" He groaned, able to recall a few rumors people had spread about their partnership. How it was evolving into something more, how they were probably secretly dating, how it was likely the reason he rejected partnership and relationship requests…

"Say stuff like what?" She shouted, quickly losing her patience. "What the hell are you talking about, Soul?"

"Shit that lovers say to each other!" Soul finally shouted. She was silenced immediately. Soul sighed sharply and ran his fingers through his hair. She made him lose his cool again, in that infuriatingly innocent way she always did. "Maka, have you listened to yourself? Some of the stuff you say just… just doesn't ring right to me. I don't know if you're completely oblivious to it or if you're aware but… it's fucking with me, okay? I don't know how to take it." He finally admitted, holding her wide-eyed look sternly. "You get me?"

"I…think I do." Maka replied, slowly. She dropped her eyes, unsure of how to continue. She honestly never thought it would bother him so much. She didn't mean much by it, but there was always some truth to every lie. "I didn't mean to offend you by it—!"

Soul huffed out exasperated laughter, shaking his head to the floor. He lifted his head back up soon after, running his hand over his hair like he usually did when he was fed up with something. It made her shrink in her place, knowing that he was fed up with her.

"I don't think you get it, either." Soul decided flatly. He continued forth to his abandoned motorcycle, far more calm than before. "Forget it. Let's go."

"No, let's deal with this now!" Maka shouted, grabbing his arm. "If it's bothering you this much, then let's resolve it now! What things do I say that bother you? Is it when I say I'll always have your back?"

"No, that's different. That's one of the more normal things you say." Soul sighed, deciding they'd need to deal with this sometime, they might as well deal with it now. "It's… like 'always'."

"Always?" Maka blinked.

"Yeah. You're starting to say that a lot now. It's bugging me."

"Well, I could stop if you want—!"

"No, no! That's not what I—gah!" Soul hung his head, struggling to collect his scattered thoughts and mixed sentiments. "Okay. Let me put it this way: when you say things like 'always', it gives off a different definition. You with me so far? You make it sound like…I dunno'…you like me or something." He ended with a mumble, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Oh. Oh, um…" Maka flushed, realizing what he meant now. She could feel the color reach her neckline: she'd never thought it would sound like that! Sure, she adored her weapon, but something on that level was unthinkable. It was something completely out of her league. If Soul didn't know how to handle her apparently-inappropriate comments, then she didn't know how to handle the relationship talk. After all, she hadn't the very good example growing up. Everything she knew regarding relationships had been based on the catastrophe between her mother and father, and said paradigm had been reshaped and stretched out by the successful relationships around her. This included her own relationship with Soul, which had turned out far better than anyone had expected.

"Yeah, you get it now?" Soul said, more to fill the awkward silence that had descended between them.

"I don't… I mean, I never meant for it to sound like that." Maka played with her gloves, slipping them off and wringing them in her hands. She didn't quite know how to handle this situation. She knew it could go one of two ways: she could confess that maybe she did see him in that light or she could say it was a misunderstanding. She supposed it was a misunderstanding, but that didn't mean she couldn't use this situation to her advantage. She instantly shook the thought off. "You're my partner – you're my weapon partner!" Maka clarified, hastily. "I just thought… I don't know what I thought. But it wasn't that! Really, it wasn't…"

Soul didn't expect to feel as disappointed as he did when she finished. He expected something, just not the crushing disappointment that seemed to cave in his heart. He watched her shift her weight, slip on her gloves to give her something to do. It didn't seem like she would add anything more to that. It was all quite clear to him, which was what he supposed flattened his mood even more.

"Alright." Soul said, sounding far better than he actually felt. "That's all I needed to know."

Maka looked up, knowing something was wrong. His voice sounded funny, a little thick, and he had turned to avoid facing her. She felt like she needed to say something and she was quickly losing time to say it, as he returned to his fallen motorcycle. If she didn't say it now, Maka thought, there wouldn't be time to say it again. There wouldn't be another place, another opportunity.

"Wait, Soul!" She called out, pausing him.

He looked over his shoulder, turning just as her mind went blank. After a moment of nothing but silence, Soul prompted: "Yeah?"

She took a breath but only managed to wheezy exhale. She suddenly felt very foolish, standing there with a hazardous jumble of words building in the base of her throat. But none of them were right, none of them felt right. No matter how much she tried to formulate a reply, the words wouldn't fit with each other like they usually did.

She didn't know how to deal with these sorts of situations.

So why was she even trying?

Because it was Soul and she'd try, just for him? That sounded wrong in her head. Those were the things Soul was talking about, Maka grimly thought. Words that sounded like they should be exchanged by lovers not by simple combat partners. But that was how her feelings meshed with her vocabulary; that's how the words arranged themselves to express her emotions. That ought to say something about how she felt about her weapon, right?

"Maka?" Soul called, softly. He could see the internal battle she was fighting in her eyes and it concerned him. It would be Maka who blew things completely out of proportion, Soul thought wearily. He neared her, calling out her name one more time and getting a decent reaction from it: a flinch, like she'd just been jerked awake from sleep.

"I know those words I say may sound weird!" Maka began, unexpectedly. He paused mid-step to her, waiting for her to continue. "But they're… I can't really explain it." She tried to anyway. "That's how I feel. No, that's what I feel I should say. And although I know it may sound inappropriate to others, it's how I feel. I can't change that, Soul, I'm sorry."

"…Then don't." Soul decided after a second of observing her. He seemed to understand something she didn't, Maka noted. "You know what? Fuck it. Don't change. Don't change what you feel for me." He grinned at the uncertainty that flickered past her jewel eyes. "Everyone can go to hell. If that's how you really feel, then ignoring those emotions would be more uncool than letting them out."

"Soul…?"

"C'mon." He held his hand out to her. "Our flight leaves at eight and we have to be there by six."

After a moment of studying him, trying to work out in her head just what it was that he realized and she didn't, Maka reached over and took his hand. He led her to the fallen motorcycle, letting go to right it and get on it himself. He nodded for her to hop on and she did, watching him kick off the floor and drive back to the main road that would lead to town and then the airport.

"Uh, does this mean you're fine again?" Maka asked half-way through the ride, leaning closer to listen to his reply. "Soul?"

After a second, Soul grinned and said: "Always," and cackled when she sputtered and quickly realized he'd been teasing her again, which only made her hit him harder but it didn't do anything to stop his laughter.


A/N: Okay, Lacrow wrote the beginning 538 words exactly. I modified it a little, but nothing drastic. I wrote the rest of the story on my own. This was just a fleeting idea he had and didn't get anywhere. So, deciding he'd rather focus on his current stories, he left this idea to collect dust for a while before he sent it to me. He gave me free reign with it, and I hope I didn't disappoint him! You hear that, Crow? You better be happy 'cause if you're not I'ma cry XD

Scarlett.