Things were different after.
First came the necklace.
Maka all but collapsed into a seat at the library cafe. The coffee in front of her was black and piping hot the way she liked it and she set about tiredly devouring a bagel. Functioning on only about four hours of sleep she had found herself running around the library after one miscreant or another. God she hated freshmen sometimes. Soul was around, but they were the only two security officers on call today and that meant that they'd had to split up. Of course she had gotten the brunt of the work, like usual. She sighed and took a long deep gulp of her coffee, enjoying the almost painful rush of heat down her throat. At least the shift was over now and she could finally eat and maybe take a nap.
She leaned back in her chair, set the coffee back down on the table and flipped her necklace out from under her shirt to fiddle with. She was twisting the long chain around her fingers when Soul finally showed up. He waved silently and plunked down across from her, head hitting the table immediately.
"Tired?" she asked.
He groaned in response.
Maka smiled despite her own exhaustion and nudged his foot under the table. He kicked her back half-heartedly and snaked his arm out towards her coffee.
"Hey!" Maka slapped his hand away and cradled her coffee defensively.
"Maaaka."
"Get your own, lazy."
Soul sunk into his seat, pouting fiercely at her and pointed to her necklace
"Even after I buy you nice jewellery you're so mean to me."
Maka scoffed, "You bought me a glorified dog-tag to go with a lecture about how I'm too reckless and I'm gonna wind up in hospital."
"Well you are. And it's got more than your details on it!"
"You got a scythe engraved on it! You said I was death walking."
"Actually I'm pretty sure I said you were the angel of death."
Maka scrunched up her nose at him and tried not to smile, instead choosing to fiddle with the pendant. The scythe on the front of the oval shaped pendant was fairly stylised and a small red stone winked like a familiarly sardonic eye from the blade. After finding out that the necklace was white gold she hadn't needed a jeweller to know the stone would be equally precious. She could have killed Soul for such an extravagant gift. He'd never have asked his parents for the money and his savings were his pride and joy. Sighing, Maka pushed her coffee across the table. Soul took it without comment, swallowing half of it in one gulp.
"That's disgusting."
Soul pushed the cup back to her with a smile. "Then stop staring."
Maka rolled her eyes at him and snatched her drink back. Nothing had really changed between them in the past two months. They were still partners on campus security.
They still crashed at each other's places without any planning or even warning. The only real change was that despite Wes returning to New York, Maka hadn't taken up residence in his room again. But that was no big deal really. Once you've trusted someone with your life sharing a bed with them doesn't seem so scandalous.
"I'm not staring." She said, a beat too late.
"Keep it in your pants Angel."
Maka stuck her tongue out at him and kicked him lightly under the table.
Well, maybe something had changed.
"Do you like it though? Honestly?" He smiled warily.
"It's still too much. I'm going to have to wear it for the rest of my life just to get your money's worth." She spoke without thinking and a second too late realised what weight a comment like that could carry.
"If that's what you want."
Maka felt too warm under his gaze and looked down at her coffee instead. One hand still twirling the pendant she whispered, "Yeah. It's what I want."
Second came the acknowledgement.
There was no point denying it, Soul was in love with Maka Albarn. And he was pretty sure that everyone except her knew it. Well, that wasn't entirely true. Of course she knew he loved her, but did she know that he loved her? It was maddening. He had his phone sitting on the counter next to him, screen facing up and volume on full. He jumped every time he heard the ghost of a message alert ping. He was a grown man for god's sake and yet here he was, pining over his best friend like a teenager lovesick for the first time. He scratched his scar absentmindedly over his shirt and signed his name to another security report, determinedly keeping his eyes from darting to the blank phone screen again. It was a Friday night, the first Friday night he'd had off in weeks and instead of being out with the boys, enjoying bowling and cheap drinks, he was holed up in his apartment doing paperwork because she'd asked him to. He was such a goner.
His phone started ringing and he scrambled for it and huffed when Wes' face showed up on the caller I.D.
"What?" he answered.
"That's no way to speak to your beloved brother when he misses you so much!"
"Don't be such a drama queen. What'd you want?"
"Just calling to make sure you're still alive. You haven't responded on words with friends for a day and a half."
"Been busy."
"Busy with Maka perhaps?" He could practically hear the eyebrow wiggle in Wes' voice.
"Fuck off Wes."
His brother laughed loudly on the other end of the phone and Soul slammed his head against the counter silently, waiting for him to stop. Somewhere under the noise of Wes' marathon laugh was a thump that sounded like the door closing. Soul straightened just in time to see Maka stomp into the room, throw her bag on the floor and without more than a nod in his direction head straight for the fridge and grab a bottle of red wine.
"Um Wes I need to call you back."
"Girlfriend come home?"
Soul hung up and switched the phone to airplane mode.
Maka fought with a bottle opener before violently ripping the cork out and taking a long swig straight from the bottle.
"You're meant to let that come up to room temperature and breathe you know."
Maka turned to him with a dark look.
"Does it look like I care right now?"
She was equal parts terrifying and adorable. God he was screwed.
Soul shrugged. "Bad day then?" Get an A- or something?"
Maka burst into tears.
"Shit. I'm sorry…"
He moved around the counter quickly, taking the bottle from her hands gently before opening his arms. She grabbed onto him firmly, burying her face in his chest. He held her close and rested his head over hers, whispering sorry over and over again.
"It wasn't you." She hiccupped eventually, pulling back from him slightly, but keeping her hands firmly fisted around the fabric of his shirt.
"What happened?" he pushed her bangs from her face gently.
She shook her head. "It's so dumb. I was furious. I am furious. I'm not sad!"
Soul nodded silently and waited.
"Everything's falling apart and no one will do anything about it."
"Those new guys at the dorm who keep breaking all the rules and vandalising stuff?"
"It's more than that, but yes. Ms. Nygus is still on leave and the new Dean won't do anything! No one's being held accountable. Every policy is sliding. I'm trying to hold it together, trying to maintain some sense of what it was before, but – "
"It's not on you."
"Who else will do it? It's my home. I have to protect it. It doesn't matter about me."
He grasped her arms firmly. "You matter Maka."
She sighed and slumped forward against his chest again, effectively ending that line of conversation. If she thought it was going to be that easy to avoid she had another thing coming. Maka Albarn was everything that was right about the world even if she didn't see it that way herself.
"I'm exhausted."
"The wine's not gonna help that."
"Just get us some glasses."
Soul hesitated, unwilling to leave her side especially when she still had a stronghold on his shirt. He brought one hand around her shoulders to rest lightly against the back of her head and leaned over, leaving a light peck on her brow.
"We'll figure it out."
"Promise?" her voice was small and wavering.
"Always."
She held onto him extra tight for a heartbeat before letting go. Once they were settled on the couch with the wine and the finest instant meals Soul could dig up from the back of the freezer, Maka wasted no time tucking herself in under his arm. She didn't leave that spot for a long time.
Her whisper was barely more than a breath, "Always."
Third came the kiss.
Soul stood shadowed in her doorway, looming large in its frame despite his hunched shoulders. They stood in a silent stalemate while his breathing evened out. If Maka didn't know him better, she'd think he'd just run up all the stairs. He lifted his arms before quickly dropping them to his sides again, huffed once, ran a hand through his hair before asking bruskly,
"Can I…?"
She should have had no idea what he meant, but she did so she nodded once. It was meant to be slow and deliberate, but she feared it turned out rather jerky and fast. It didn't seem to bother him because his hands came up to cup her face and guide her mouth to his. Her hands climbed his chest to fist in the soft fabric of his shirt and he sighed against her mouth, the tension leaking out of him as his lips moved softly against hers. His hands moved to her hair and hers wound around his neck, pulling herself against him in one easy sway. He moved slightly, pushing them into the room before pulling her with him, leaning backwards and closing the door with their weight. His mouth left hers as he scattered kisses across her face and down her jaw. She sighed as his skin brushed against hers, slightly prickly from a day's worth of regrowth. She stroked his hair languidly, pausing when his kisses stopped. He looked at her then, his eyes wide and unguarded.
"Been meaning to do that for a while." he broke the silence before something could go wrong.
"Oh." Maka pinked. She had no idea how long 'a while' was, but knowing Soul and his damnable loyalty it probably meant a long while.
"I can leave...I don't want to, but if you want me to of course I'll…" he trailed off into mutterings about not being cool.
"Soul," Maka interrupted him, stroking the back of his neck lightly. "Stay."
"Really?" She watched him melt on the spot and couldn't help but melt a little (more like a lot) herself.
She nodded and pressed her lips to his.
"Stay."
Then, later, something more than a kiss.
Maka had never been naked in front of someone else. At least, not like this. Not when it wasn't clinical or locker room. Not when it meant something. She found that she wasn't entirely sure how she felt about it, or rather, wasn't sure how she could feel so many things about it at once. There was excitement of course, trepidation of uncharted territory and an impending sense of permanence. Once this decision was made, things would evolve again. There was no going back from this.
"I don't want to rush." She blurted out, a firm hand between them on Soul's chest.
Soul covered her hand with his and spoke softly. "We won't. We'll only ever do what you want, at the pace you want. You lead and I'll follow, same as everything else."
"You know I've never…" She held his gaze in spite of her nerves.
"You know I haven't exactly… not like this…." His colour rose.
A nervous giggle escaped her. "This is so dumb. It's you. You're Soul."
"Gee thanks." He tensed beneath her, shoulders curling inwards as he leaned away.
"No. I'm sorry." Maka tugged him back towards her gently, held his face between her hands so he couldn't look away and fell into a whisper. "What I meant was, I can't imagine being like this with anyone but you."
Even if she had been wearing a shirt there would be no hiding the flush that crept up her neck and across her face..
"Can I kiss you?"
Maka nodded, leaning into the soft kiss he gifted her.
"It'll only ever be you." He whispered against her mouth.
Maka froze. "Soul that's a ridiculously huge promise. Don't say that."
"I'll be here by your side as long as you want me. Always."
"I want to believe you."
"Always?"
He stared at her wide eyed and unguarded and gently brushed her bangs from her face.
"I promise."
She believed him.
Somewhere along the line came routine.
Maka woke slowly, sandwiched between a hard warmth and the sensation of something running through her hair. She groaned, not sure she was ready to be awake after a late UBar shift that ended in breaking up a fight and one of Soul's nightmares. She buried her face into what she had thought to be a particularly uncomfortable pillow. It wasn't. Underneath her was a body, warm and breathing almost in time with her. She tensed on instinct before opening her eyes and seeing familiar scar tissue. The fingers in her hair froze and she grumbled, relaxing against Soul's chest again. Tentatively his fingers took up their languid strokes again.
"You need a shower." she muttered, shifting her head closer to his neck.
She felt his chuckle rumble through his chest and tapped a finger against his sternum where the sensation was strongest, purposely off beat.
"You're no better."
She pushed herself up on her forearm, knocking some of the breath out of him to glare fiercely.
"Am too!"
She watched the smile tugging at the edges of his mouth die at the sight of her face. His grimace at her early morning appearance bothered her more than it should have, but she refused to look away. It wasn't until his hand ghosted over the bruise on her cheek that she remembered it hurt and realised it wasn't her bedhead so much as her uncharacteristically slow reflexes that he took offence to. She winced under his light touch and he lowered his hand quickly.
"Sorry."
Maka nodded and watched his gaze fall to her neck and the small scar from the cut Giriko had left there months ago. His fingers hovered over it, afraid to touch.
"Soul."
His unguarded red gaze came back to hers.
"I'm fine. Because of you, I'm fine."
He shook his head in protest, but Maka wasn't having any of it. She pressed her palm flush against the worst part of his scar. She didn't need to look down to know that the skin there would never fully knit back together; that no amount of cosmetic surgery, creams or time would make any difference to it. She knew that scar as well as she knew the man who wore it. She held his gaze obstinately, refusing to look down at the damage she had done to him, the damage that to this day he seemed to think he had done to himself.
There were so many things she could say in that moment, secrets to be shared, confessions to be made. The sun was dim behind the closed curtains. They were tired and injured, barely clothed and entangled. They had saved each other equally, relied solely on each other time and time again. He smelled like cheap alcohol and sweat and she smelled like blood and barmaid. Yes, there was a lot she could say, some things she should say, but her arm was beginning to ache, she kind of needed to pee and she was still unbelievably tired. She kept it simple.
"Thank you."
His hand was lost in her hair, somewhere between her neck and jaw. His face was flushed pink and white shocks of hair stuck up in every direction. His eyes darted around her face before settling somewhere near her mouth.
"We're cool." he muttered.
"Soul?"
His eyes flicked back to hers. Maka leaned towards him slightly, eyes on his mouth, critically analysing a small cut on his bottom lip. Distractedly, she wondered if it hurt.
"We're cool." she repeated.
She watched his mouth twitch into a barely contained smile.
"Oh yeah?"
Maka nodded slightly, a matching smile playing at her lips.
"Yeah."
And even though he worried too much, had stupid bedhead and smelled like last night's fight she didn't protest when his injured lips brushed lazily against hers. In fact, she rather welcomed it. Or she did, until she welcomed sleep more.
Finally, came the end of an era.
Maka glared at the pile of boxes which had quickly become the bane of her existence. How could she have accumulated so much stuff? How had it all fit into her tiny dorm room, and that one drawer at Soul's, and half of his closet, and the three bookshelves she had between school, Soul's and her Dad's and… oh.
"Even you can't scare inanimate objects into submission." Soul drawled as he passed through the living room.
"You wanna bet?" Maka sniped back already contemplating the most dignified way to give up for the night.
"I'll bet you that fancy degree you hung on the wall as soon as we got the keys."
Maka scoffed.
"So you admit defeat?"
She scoffed again.
"I still don't see why you'd want to live in this shitbox when you could have just moved into the old place. You practically had anyways."
Maka blushed and ignored his last comment. "Because that was your old place and this is our shitbox. Besides, it's my first time living off campus, living with a boyfriend. It's meant to be a shitbox."
It was Soul's turn to scoff. "It's hardly a shitbox. A shoebox sure…"
"Shut up and grab that box of books. It's too heavy to be at the top of the pile." She pointed to the leader of her enemy boxes, the guardian of her old psychology textbooks.
"You're the strong one in this relationship." Soul whined but he was already taking the box in hand.
"And the strong one is tired." Maka replied, reaching out to help him steady the box as he hefted it to the ground.
Soul brushed his hands off on his pants and looked up at her with a devilish grin. "Then the cool one will have to take the strong one to bed."
"Oh really?" Maka quirked an eyebrow and looked down at him with her hands on her hips.
"Yes really." His grin widened and he rose to his feet, taking her hand in his own.
"Well then the cool one is going to have to catch me first."
Maka shrieked as she leapt away from Soul and on a chase around their admittedly very small and box crowded apartment. He followed her with a playful growl and unabashed amusement. She took pity on him in the kitchen and leaned into his embrace when his arms came around her middle and hefted her up off her feet slightly.
"You gave up pretty easy."
"The strong one is also the fast one. Unfair advantage." She spun around in his arms so
she was facing him.
"In that case, as always Maka thank you for an easy arrest."
When he kissed her it was clear. This was going to be a good life.
Authors Note:
I know I promised a sequel, but I hope this collection will suffice instead. I started writing Law and Order: DCU three years ago when I moved into dorms and started college. Now, three years gone I finish writing DCU sitting on my comfortable queen bed in my first house, off campus, having completed my degree.
When I started writing DCU I had nothing to lose. My first year was going well, I was happy, I had friends, but nowhere is perfect in every way. DCU was my fantasy. A fantasy where a girl like me might find a loyal, selfless boy who would provide a quiet place to sleep far away from her noisy neighbour and the drunks laughing under her window. I gave Maka all of my best realities and all of my best dreams. My time at college wasn't the same adventure as hers. But that's okay. Life isn't always as neat and fateful as stories. We don't always meet the right people at the right time, or make the right decisions, or take every chance we should. All we can do is try, to the best we can with what we have.
Of all my triumphs and mistakes over the past three years, I can honestly say that I did my best. And that I did my best here with Soul and Maka. This fandom has been a lantern in a lonely, stormy night for as long as I've been studying. I owe all of you more than you could ever know. Your words of support and encouragement, your constant inspiration and your overwhelmingly kind and gracious spirit have seen me through the best and worst and you've made it possible for me to continue to grow as a writer.
It didn't feel right to end my college journey, without ending Maka and Soul's. It didn't feel right to move on to new projects without finishing this one. And it didn't feel right to end such a formative stage in my life without ending the story that was part of that formation. Now that I find myself at the end of it all, I find my words aren't enough. So I'll turn to someone else's. The Book Thief is a rich mine of poignant quotes, but I'll turn to the one that's stuck with me both in regards to my life and my writing.
"I have hated the words and I have loved them, and I hope I have made them right."
Thank you.