That one time Nan came from Italy just to rip Soul a new one because he missed their weekly call. Nan meets Maka, hilarity ensues.
It had been a year or so after the battle on the moon and the coronation of Kid becoming a fully realized Shinigami that Soul began to speak to his family regularly again. He and his brother kept a sparse correspondence throughout the scythe's training years, but otherwise, Soul never even saw so much as an email from his ever so loving parents nor from anyone else a part of the Evans or Bellini (his mother's side of the family) clan.
Well. That wasn't entirely true.
There was one person he kept in touch with.
And that was his beloved Nan.
Nan was his mother's mother and she was the sweetest yet most kickass old lady to ever live and she'd never let anyone forget it. Nan was the type of grandmother who continuously worried if her "sweet babies" were being fed enough and then proceeded to forcefully stuff her home made cannolis down her grandkids throat if they refused. Soul had learned that the hard way.
Soul loved the woman dearly.
So, he couldn't say he wasn't pleasantly surprised when he found his Nan smiling brightly up at him outside his and Maka's apartment.
"Nan!" Soul exclaimed. "What are you doing here?" he asked, before hurriedly following up his question with, "Not that I'm not happy to see you. Because I am." He smiled warmly. "Death, it's been so long."
His grandmother briefly gave him an odd look at his word usage (spending his adolescent years and then some with Death Children surely took a toll on his language) before she took his hand. Her grip was firm and warm, just how Soul always remembered. "You didn't call." She stated matter of factly, "I was so worried, I hopped on the next flight to the states to see what could have stopped my youngest grandchild from having his weekly conversation with me."
Soul knew that look she was giving him. It was that same look she gave him whenever he wouldn't confide in her and he felt the crush of guilt like the weight of a falling building.
His Nan had come all the way from Italy to Nevada just because he missed one of her weekly calls. He loved the woman dearly but this was a little extreme.
But, he was still incredibly excited that she had decided to visit.
"I just wanted to see my little soul eater again~" She cooed, hugging him tightly. Soul returned the embrace, taking in the scent of expensive cappuccino and the Mediterranean sea.
"I missed you, Nan," he admitted, his face nuzzled in her snowy hair, a tint grayer than his own.
"Oh, really?" She retorted in that signature sarcastic tone of hers, her thick accent doing nothing to cover it. "Then what happened to our arrangement?" she asked as she made her way into his abode, a tote bag in hand and two other matching suitcases waiting patiently on the welcome mat (Maka's idea).
Oh shit.
Was Nan planning to stay over?
Crap.
Maka was gonna kill him. They hadn't cleaned up in a while.
"Sorry, Nan," her grandson apologized sheepishly as he grabbed her other luggage and lugging it into the living room (what the hell did she have in there?) "We were on a mission this week in Africa, I didn't have any reception."
The tiny woman was perusing through a few photos placed on a bookcase, when she asked, "Oh?" She pointed to a pretty green eyed blonde in a group photo with all of their friends. "You and your… oh what's the term… meister? Is this her?"
Soul looked over her shoulder, which barely reached the middle of his torso (Death, puberty had been good to him) and smiled warmly. "Yeah, that's Maka, my meister."
If his Nan took notice of the way he had sighed "my meister" (which she totally did) and the dreamy look in his eye she didn't say anything. She only gave her beloved grandson that knowing and wise grandma look.
"Hey, Soul?" A groggy, feminine voice mumbled from Soul's room, before its owner opened the door and appeared clad in only Soul's old AC/DC t-shirt and sinfully short sleep shorts. "Who's at the door?" she asked tiredly, her small hands rubbing at her eyes.
It was rare for Maka to sleep in, but the mission in Africa had taken a toll on the both of them. They had returned only yesterday and they were both so exhausted that they barely had the energy to change into pajamas. They both plopped into Soul's queen sized bed (growth spurts had their perks) afterwards, and were asleep before their heads hit the pillow.
"Oh, you must be Maka!" Nan's face lit up and because the woman was full of so much love she made her way over to the barely awake blonde and hugged her tightly, yet softly in the only way his grandmother could.
Maka, surprised, hugged the woman back awkwardly as she eyed Soul. He mouthed the words, "my grandmother" and her confusion lifted, but only slightly.
The older woman backed away, her laugh deep and rich, "Oh, where are my manners?" She beamed brightly and Maka already loves the woman. "I'm Soul's grandmother, but you can call me Nan."
Shit.
Shit.
Nan really liked Maka and she had just met her, which is what usually happened when most people met his partner, but this was Nan.
If Nan liked her, then he was fucked. This meant that Maka really was the one for him and not some stupid crush that had overstayed its welcome in his heart. It was a proven fact that if Nan approved of a potential or current partner of any of her relatives, they were sure to get married. Nan was magic like that, his own parents were proof of this theory.
"Hi, Nan," the sound of Maka's tinkling voice knocked Soul out of his shocking revelation, "I'm Maka, Soul's meister." Her eyes roamed toward his own, before she smiled smugly, "And self- proclaimed best friend."
Soul chuckled, happy that Maka seemed okay with his Nan's impromptu visit and not sending him death glares about the (barely there) mess in their kitchen.
"I'm so sorry to just drop in like this," the older woman apologized sincerely, "but, my grandson didn't inform me that you two were on a mission and missed one of our weekly calls." The petite woman glared at said grandchild before her face melted into a smile she aimed at the young woman in front of her. "I figured that would be a good enough excuse to visit my tesero." She cooed adoringly at her grandson, moving away from Maka to reach up and pinch his cheeks.
"Naaaaaan," The shark toothed teddy bear whined, blushing brightly. His Nan hadn't pinched his cheeks since he was five, she was just trying to embarrass him.
Maka giggled, the tactic working effectively, before she noticed the creme colored luggage propped near the couches.
"Oh!" Maka piped in. "Do you plan on staying long in Death City?" Maka asked, her head tilted slightly, looking much like a confused pup. "Were you able to find a hotel? Do you need somewhere to sleep?"
Soul noticed the sly smile on his grandmother's face before she "innocently" admitted that she had forgotten to make sleeping arrangements due to the trip's improptuness.
"Oh, Soul!" The sprightly meister began, her enchanting green eyes set on his face. "She can sleep in my room! It's not like I sleep much in there anymore, we'll just share your bed."
At that, Nan gave Soul a look, her smile smug and her eyes devious.
"Oh, thank you dearie! That's quite kind of you."
In the back of his head, Soul was sure that this was the recipe for disaster. His meister and his Nan under one roof? Did he want to die of embarrassment? But this was his grandmother he was talking about here, his sweet, kickass, pastry-making, Italian grandmother who he had been missing dearly. So, really, what was the worst that could happen?
It was decided that Nan would stay as a guest in the Evans-Albarn household for a week.
Soul loved the woman but what was she trying to do to him, really? Each day it was something different.
On Monday, she told stories about her pudgy polpetto to Maka, officially killing him dead. His cause of death? Complete and utter embarrassment.
On Tuesday, Maka and Soul took Nan on a tour of Death City. Nan whispered in Soul's ear, asking him which spots did he become most intimate with Maka. Soul squawked and was very disappointed that his sweet grandma even thought of such things.
On Wednesday, while Maka was out, Nan blatantly asked when was she going to be granted some great-grand kids. Soul promptly spat out his drink and gently reminded his grandmother that he was barely eighteen. The older woman informed him that she's not demanding them right now. She just wanted to know when she could expect a green-eyed mimmo. Soul could only groan and think,'Not you, too, Nan…".
On Thursday, Soul and Maka were in his room getting ready for bed and all of a sudden his grandmother began to sing an Italian love song. The former opera singer crooned about new love and fiery passion and Maka swayed slightly to the music of Nan's voice. "Your grandmother sings beautifully, Soul." He blushed deeply and could only thank Death that Maka had no idea what his grandmother was saying.
On Friday, the day before Nan was set to leave, Maka and Soul took her out to the fanciest restaurant in Death City. When they got there, Nan exclaimed that she had forgotten something at the apartment. Catching on to his grandmother's game, he offered to drive her back (they had to rent a car during her stay, Soul refused to have his grandmother riding on his motorcycle, despite how adamant she was that getting around on the bike would be fine.). Nan, however, had already called a car service and knew where the spare key was. They waited fifteen minutes for her to return before they ordered something to eat. She never came back. Maka was extremely worried ("Soul, what if something terrible happened to your grandmother?!") but Soul reassured her that Nan probably just fell asleep, knowing that his grandmother left them alone on purpose. When the two asked for the check they found that everything was already payed for.
Saturday morning, Nan made them a huge breakfast and she had cannolis cooling in the fridge.
"Eat up, amore mios!" Nan wiped her hands on the apron, (which she was very amused to find that Soul owned one.) "I made more than enough!"
Maka eagerly dug into the fruit of Nan's labor and barely contained her moan of pleasure. "Oh, Nan!" She tittered, covering her mouth out of propriety. "This is delicious!"
Soul bit into his own food, and quickly agreed with his meister's assessment. Nan always made the best pancakes.
"I know how hard you two must work," the sweet woman cooed. "Must build energy for all that rigorous exercise, am I right?" Nan placed herself between Maka and her grandson, who she was eyeing suggestively. Soul could only wonder what she was hiding up her designer sleeves.
Nan turned to the young woman on her right, her hand placed on her chest, "And I'm sorry if I interrupted you two this week." To Maka, Nan seemed very sincere in her apology, but Soul knew better. He could sense that cunning tone her voice. He just wished he knew what she was doing, his sweet, "innocent" grandmother had been surprising him all week. "I do not want to be a hindrance to you, at all!"
"Oh, it's no worry Nan!" Maka placed her hand on top of the sliver haired woman's own. "But we really didn't have anything planned this week." She admitted, wanting to rid Soul's caring grandmother of her concern. "What would you have interrupted?"
Soul looked towards his grandmother, her face lifted into a blinding smile.'Wait…' He thought. 'She wouldn't…'
"Why dear, your se-"
"TRAINING!" Soul yelled loudly. She would, of course she would. The last Death Scythe had forgotten how blunt the old woman could be.
"She was worried about interrupting our training," Soul glared at his grandmother, trying his hardest not to cower in the heat of her gaze. "Right, Nan?"
Nan's only response was to tug sharply on his ear. "Use your inside voice, Soul," she scolded.
Maka giggled as Soul begged his grandmother to let go of his ear. She paid him no mind and went on to say, "There are very few places that it is acceptable to use a raised voice." She paused for dramatic effect and smiled smugly at him. "One of them is the bedroom."
Maka gasped loudly before falling into an uncontrollable fit of laughter.
Soul thunked his head on the table and moaned.
"The bedroom is also an appropriate place for that, as well."
Soul would never, ever, as long as he lived forget to call his Nan again.
Tesero means darling/treasure
Polpetto means meatball
Mimmo means baby
Amore mios means my loves