A/N: Hello! This is my first official post for the Soul Eater fandom, even though I've been a huge fan of the series, both anime and manga for a couple of years now. Yeah I'm late to the party, as usual.

Anyway, I've been working on this for a couple of days, since I love Kid and the Thompson Sisters and I feel like they don't get enough love.

This will probably be a two-shot, maybe three if I go overboard (as I am wont to do, and quite often I'm afraid).

Warnings: Liz's mouth mostly, and it will be slightly Kid x Liz later. But only slightly. Not enough for this to be considered a pairing fic, anyway. You'll see what I mean. Also, this follows both the original series and the Soul Eater Not! Storyline. If you haven't read the spin-off series yet, I'd recommend doing so…at least, the chapters that involve Kid and the Thompson Sisters anyway, as their backstory is explained a little more.

Also, it's kinda late, and I don't feel like editing at the moment. So ignore any grammatical errors for now. I'll go back and edit it tomorrow, don't worry.

With all of that being said, Happy Reading!

08/19/12 Properly beta'd by Musard. I also made some additional edits, so it flows better now.

Disclaimer: SushiBomb does not own Soul Eater. This is written solely to entertain. Okay thank you.

The Boy in the Black Suit

It was always easy to spot a rich kid.

In a neighborhood like theirs, where dark hoodies, baggy jeans, and guns holstered in between belt loops were the norm, a lone teenager in a crisp-looking black suit and no visible weapons stuck out like a sore thumb. He was a far cry from their usual victims; after all, people like him, namely, people who had money, didn't show up on their street often. But once in awhile, some spoiled brat would wander a little too far from home, and she and Patty would make sure that they learned never to stray outside of their luxurious little bubbles.

And Liz didn't know what she found more hilarious, the fact that this stranger was walking down their street looking like that, or that he had the nerve to look completely indifferent to the stares of other potential muggers as he did so.

To her left, Patty was giggling loudly, her hands tucked in her pockets, pushing the loose jeans so far down that the top of her thong was showing, and her foot in the process of crushing her soda can. Her eyes were also focused on the strange boy in the suit. Liz knew that Patty was thinking the exact same thing as her.

Rich people were always so oblivious to what was really going on around them. And rich kids were always the repeat offenders. It must've been nice, thinking you were untouchable. And in their neck of town, perhaps they were.

But not here.

Liz sneered as she lit what may have been her fifth or sixth cigarette that day. That boy was in for a very rude awakening. She was high, and Patty was hungry, and neither of them had any money on them at that moment. And, Liz thought as she took a long drag, unfortunately for the boy, he looked like he had plenty of money to share with her and her little sister.

"Whaddya say, Patty? You up for this?" She asked, her face blank save for the decidedly malicious gleam in her eyes. Naturally, Patty was game, if the large, cheeky grin and the slightly wild look in her eyes was anything to go by.

"Hehehehe," she giggled as she turned into her weapon form, "We're gonna eat good tonight, right Sis?"

Liz didn't respond, save for the widening of her smile as she pushed herself off of the graffiti covered wall. She tucked Patty into her jean pocket and quickly walked across the street, a fair distance behind the suit-clad stranger. After a minute or so, she fell into step with him, matching his calm, measured strides easily.

She noticed his shoulders tense, but only slightly, and smirked to herself. At least the kid had half a mind to be alarmed, though in her opinion, that sense of danger should've and would've normally struck someone before they set foot on the Thompson Sisters' turf. She pulled the large silver gun out of her pocket slowly as she picked up her pace, coming up right behind the boy in a matter of seconds. At the sound of a gun cocking, the boy stopped walking.

With a sinister little chuckle, Liz pressed the barrel of the gun into his lower back. She took a quick puff from her cigarette before pressing the gun a bit harder into his spine.

"You don't look like you're from around here…you lost or somethin'?"

The boy said something under his breath, something that sounded suspiciously like 'found you', but Liz couldn't be sure.

"What was that? Speak up, dammit!" She shouted, smashing the handle of the gun against the back of his head. The boy stumbled forward from the sudden force, rubbing his head tenderly.

"It was nothing." He said quietly. "That's quite a gun you have there."

"Tell me about it." Liz responded testily. She watched a thin trickle of blood creep down his neck and onto the crisp, white lapel of his undershirt with a small swell of pride in her chest.

Better make this quick before he passes out.

"I think you know what comes next, doncha?"

The boy turned his head slightly to look at her out of the corner of his eye. "I do. Shall I turn down this alley up ahead? Or do you want to take my money right here?"

Liz may not have been the smartest person in New York, not even close, she would admit, but she damn sure knew when someone was talking down to her. For someone about to be robbed, and possibly shot, this kid was pretty damn cheeky.

"Hey! Watch the attitude, asshole. Or you'll end up a splatter on that wall, you got that?"

It was at that point, normally, that the person she was mugging would either wet themselves, explode into a mess of crying and begging crap, or both. But to her surprise – and growing irritation– the boy was staring at her, his face just as neutral as before, if not moreso.

He shrugged nonchalantly, turning on the heels of his obviously very expensive dress shoes and making toward the opening of the alley. "Of course. My apologies, Miss."

Liz nearly bit her cigarette in half from rage. Why that snotty little sunuvabitch. I'm gonna blow his cock off just for that.

She stomped after him into the alley, quickly grabbing him by the back of his blazer and shoving him against the wall. He grunted as his back hit the cold concrete, though Liz was unsure if it was more out of surprise than pain. Either way, she sidled up to him and slapped her hand on the wall next to his head, shoving the barrel of her sister's gun form against the boy's temple.

"So, you never answered my question. You lost or what?"

As part of her usual routine, she widened her eyes a bit, giving her a wild, unstable look. It was a look that she and Patty had perfected over the years, as a means of intimidation, and although Patty's always looked crazier, as Patty herself was a little crazy, it usually served its purpose well enough.

Either this boy was one brave little motherfucker or he was just flatout brain-dead, but his only reaction was to stare back at her evenly, his posture and countenance not changing once. Liz wondered vaguely if he actually understood the concept of 'mugging', and better yet, if he even realized that she would not hesistate to shoot him, if given the slightest reason.

After a moment, he spoke. "Why? Does it seem like I'm lost?"

Despite the fact that he was her captive and she was holding a gun to his head, Liz felt her pulse quicken somewhat as he spoke. His voice was smooth and velvety, just deep enough to comfortably support the overwhelming air of superiority that radiated off of him in waves. He was certainly different from any of the other rich kids she had encountered in her lifetime. By now, they were usually making empty threats and trying to use their parents' power and wealth as leverage.

"You sure as hell don't look like you're from anywhere around here. You're a long way off from Midtown Manhattan, rich boy." She said coolly. That, Liz decided mentally, was the understatement of the day.

To be blunt, he was pretty weird-looking. Not bad-weird, but interesting-weird. That was an important distinction in her and Patty's minds, as those slight variations usually meant the difference between engaging in a fight or running away, and sometimes whether they would get a chance to sleep without worrying if anyone would try to assault them, or if they were fated to stay awake the entire night and prowl the streets.

Either way, he was quite a character. He was certainly rich, that much she knew right off the bat. Upon closer inspection, she noticed that his suit was finely tailored and pressed to perfection, from the lapels of his blazer right down to his black slacks and neatly polished shoes. There was a word to describe him; it was on the tip of her brain-tongue. She had seen it once before in a fashion magazine, but for the life of her she couldn't remember what it was.

But mannerisms and personal style aside, there was something about him that Liz found a bit creepy. And not creepy as in a pervert; again, these types of distinctions were very important, but creepy as in, well…

Man, he is pale as hell.

…He seemed to have that whole 'morbid-goth' thing going on. Not to say there was necessarily anything wrong with being pale; she and Patty had been much lighter before they made their home on the streets and consequently spent much more time outside in the sun, after all. It was just that there were different kinds of 'pale', and he was the kind of pale that made Liz think of occult, supernatural, 'gothy' things, i.e. things that scared her. She wouldn't dare to say he was pasty, but his skin was almost sickly pale, giving him a decidedly otherworldly look to him.

Plus his brooch was a skull. If that didn't scream 'morbid', Liz didn't know what did.

He looked like he walked right off the set of the Addams Family, decked out in all black and white, despite the sweltering heat. Even his hair, jet-black with three white stripes on one side, gave Liz the shivers. How he managed to even dye his hair like that, she didn't have the slightest clue, but she supposed when you had money, you had the time to experiment a little. Regardless, he didn't even seem to be bothered at all by the intense sun beating down on the city.

She was half-tempted to ask him where he kept his coffin, as well as why he hadn't burst into flames in the sunlight, because if vampires were actually real, she imagined that they would look a lot like him.

"That's because I'm not." He said suddenly, breaking Liz out of her cannabis-induced musings.

"So why are you here?" She asked hotly, quickly sliding back into 'criminal' mode.

Despite the extremely precarious situation he was in, the boy leaned against the wall as if the two were having a casual conversation, one leg crossed over the other and his hands tucked away in his pockets.

"What does it matter to you? I thought you just wanted my money."

His refusal to be intimidated was grating on Liz's nerves; so much in fact that her anger was seeping into the gun in her hand. In her mind, she could hear Patty giggling hysterically. Something about angry people always sent Patty into uncontrollable fits of laughter for some reason, and oddly enough, not even her own big sister was an exception.

Liz gritted her teeth and removed the barrel of the gun from the boy's temple, instead shoving it roughly under his chin, forcing his head against the wall. Again, he didn't flinch, not even once. His eyes, an animalistic shade of gold and an entirely new breed of creepy onto themselves, remained focused exclusively on her.

"Of course I want your money, dipshit." She snapped, "But I want you to answer my question first."

"I'm looking for someone. Or rather, I'm looking for a pair of someones."

Liz smiled arrogantly and pressed the barrel harder against the underside of his chin. "Oh really? And who might these 'someones' be?"

Something about that she found extremely unsettling. He was so calm…in the back of her mind, Liz was starting to wonder if perhaps he was some sort of cop, or maybe a bounty hunter. They did have a number of outstanding warrants in more than one state, perhaps the feds decided it was finally time to wrangle up the infamous Thompson Sisters for good.

Although, he didn't seem quite like a cop at all. Plus he was too young. Liz guessed he was probably a year or two younger than her.

"I don't know." He said smoothly, "I've never met them face-to-face."

Liz may have been high, but she wasn't so high that she didn't notice the slight twitch of his lip as he said that. It was so tiny, but it was there. A ghost of a smirk as he tilted his head further back against the wall, which made the gun slide from his chin down to the middle of his neck, just below his carotid artery. Despite the fact that he probably knew that, he didn't seem to be afraid in the slightest.

Liz gulped unconsciously. She wasn't sure whether to take his action as some strange act of submission, or if he was bluffing in some way and just had a flawless poker face and was actually shitting his pants internally. Whatever it may have been, she was determined to regain the upper-hand.

"How are you planning on finding two people in this city that you've never even met? Brooklyn's pretty big, you know." She said as she took another drag from her cigarette, blowing the thick smoke in the boy's face mockingly. Naturally, he remained eerily unfazed by the teasing action, the nearly imperceptible little smirk on his face never faltering. His eyes, however, slowly shifted away from hers and looked downward.

"I must say again, that's quite an interesting gun you have there, Miss." He began nonchalantly, completely ignoring her previous question. It was an innocent enough statement, but something in his tone made Liz's blood run frigid.

Who is this guy? She thought to herself, starting to feel slightly panicked. His eyes were boring into hers once again, his gaze was so intense and penetrating that his eyes almost seemed like they were glowing. She shoved the barrel of her gun violently into his throat. He gasped for air slightly, though, in Liz's mind, it didn't look like a gasp for air, but more like a pant of…pleasure?

Was he getting off on this or something? Liz froze. She suddenly began to wonder if maybe he really was some sort of creepy pervert, like those kids who purposely choked themselves until they passed out just for the sexual high and rush of adrenaline. Or worse yet, what if he was some psychopathic serial murderer, like Jack the Ripper? And what if he intended to make her and Patty his next victims?

"L-look kid, just give me your goddamn wallet and I won't kill you!" She shouted, her nerves finally getting the best of her. She would never outgrow her outrageous imagination, it seemed.

"Of course." He said breezily, pulling a black leather wallet out of his left pocket. He held it out to her smoothly, his eyes still locked on her. She felt him swallow lightly against the gun. "Would you mind moving your gun a bit first? You're crushing my windpipe."

Oh. So it was gasp for air after all. Not that that necessarily eased her nerves, really. Nonetheless, she shifted the gun away from his neck and back to his temple, just to show him that she still meant business. Liz quickly snatched his wallet out of his hand, flipping it open to read the name on his I.D. card.

"Billy...Bob." She read aloud before looking up at him strangely. "That's your name?"

"Clearly."

Her disbelieving scowl grew. "You're kidding."

The boy shrugged. "I don't see the big deal. It's just a name, isn't it?"

"Yeah. A damn weird one, if you ask me. I've never met anyone with the last name 'Bob'. And you damn sure don't look like a 'Billy' to me." Liz said as she continued inspecting the contents of his wallet, her scowl growing into a large smile as she found a wad of bills tucked away in one of the folds.

"Hot damn! You're loaded!" She exclaimedly loudly, finally lowering her weapon to count the money. She could hear Patty laughing and clapping happily in her mind as well. It'd been a long time since they scored that much money.

"I suppose." He said quietly, surprisingly not budging, despite having a clear opening to do so. Momentarily throwing her giddiness aside, Liz shoved the gun in the boy's face.

"Why're you still here? You can go now. Or do you want me to fucking kill you?" She said rudely. But once again, his eyes had shifted from hers to the large, silver gun pointed at his face. He was eyeing it a little too curiously for someone who was just robbed.

"What?" Liz snapped. At that, the boy looked up to her again. "I've never seen a gun like that before."

"Oh, so you like guns, do ya? Geez, what is with you, anyway? Just be glad I'm not gonna blow your sack off like I was planning to earlier." She said, laughing evilly as she pressed the tip of the barrel against his forehead.

Ignoring the crude remark, the strange kid shook his head. "Not necessarily. But I do happen to know enough about guns to know that this particular model is one of a kind. Or should I say…"

A small smirk snaked its way onto his face, curving one side of his mouth upward.

"…it is part of a rather lovely matched set?"

The laughter ceased immediately. The gun cocked, safety removed.

"Okay, who the fuck are you?" Liz snapped suddenly, her face ashen and her arm trembling slightly. She had been right all along. There was something not right about this kid, or this entire situation. He knew something that most of the people in the circles her and Patty occasionally ran in didn't even know. He knew they were weapons.

A hand rose to meet her own trembling one, long, dextrous fingers curling around the barrel and pushing the gun away from his face slowly. "Relax. I'm not here to hurt you. Or your sister."

"How do you know about Patty?" Liz demanded. He shifted away from her, but before his hand moved, she noticed the skull ring on his middle finger and shivered slightly. Again with the skulls. This kid was seriously freaking her out.

The boy leaned back against the wall, his hands tucked back into his pockets.

"You two have been causing DWMA quite a bit of trouble, you know. My father has been tracking you for some time now."

Thanks for reading! The next part will be up some time this week, most likely. I want to finish this while I'm back in my Soul Eater phase. If you enjoyed it, I'd love a review please!

I hope I did the characters justice. I was trying to write them how I imagine them being pre-series.

Anyway, see you in a few days, hopefully!

-S*B