A/N: I don't own Soul Eater, Care Bears, or any other mentioned company or product.

Dinner dates, alternating between Maka's apartment and the cafe, went on for weeks. When she procured the question of why they couldn't go to his apartment for a change of pace, he just shook his head and said that it wasn't a good place to be, especially now.

So they made do. And for once in her life, Maka felt like she really had a friend. Maybe even a best friend. How long did it take to be able to call someone your best friend? Was there some amount of time that had to pass before you could deem someone worthy? Hopefully Soul felt the same way, because she already referred to him as her BFF, at least in her head, that is. It sounded gag-worthy and just about as juvenile as the Care Bear t-shirt that she sometimes liked to wear around the house, and it made her embarrassed by how much she longed for someone to talk to.

The fine line between friend and very good friend (again, maybe even best friend) was crossed on one late night.

Maka awoke from a knock on the door with a start, spilling the bowl of grapes that had been resting precariously on her stomach. They toppled onto the ground next to the novel she was reading earlier, and she swore like a sailor when she stubbed her toe trying to stumble out of the room.

"Who is it," she said, the element of grouchiness in her voice ruined by a yawn as soft as the fluffy white clouds that she yearned to be sleeping on.

"It's me," said someone.

"Me who?" Her body was involuntarily sliding down the door frame, knees wobbly. The floor looked very comfortable...

"Maka, open up. It's Soul."

She snapped out of her tired state and opened the door, blinking confusedly at the man standing in the hallway.

"Hey, listen, I'm kind of in a tight spot right now. Would it be cool if I crashed here for tonight?"

"No." She shut the door.

"Maka," he whined. "Please. No one else would take me in."

"With good reason."

"I don't have anywhere else to go."

She peeked through the eyehole and felt a twinge of guilt at the sight of the duffel bag next to him on the floor.

Friends, when they're a boy and a girl, don't sleep at each others houses. Not unless they're under the age of eleven. Boys are sneaky and manipulative and only looking for one thing. All of them are just no-good, dirty, untrustworthy...

"Okay. I understand. I'll just leave then."

Maka cursed herself and opened the door just a crack. "Hold it."

He looked back and went up to her, chin quivering. Much to his delight, the puppy dog face worked its magic and Maka reluctantly let him in. "One night only."

He bounded inside, furthering the dog-like image, dropping his bag on the kitchen table.

"One. Night. Only." Maka shoved the bag back into his arms. "You get to sleep on the couch. And if you even THINK of trying any creepy stuff..."

"Fine, fine. I get it. No creepy stuff."

"I'm serious."

"I know."

As Maka turned to leave, Soul caught her arm. "Hey, uh… Thanks." The word was sincere, if not a little rusty from disuse.

"Yeah, whatever." Her eyes strayed from his worn sneakers, up to his red and white baseball tee and the heavy coat that sat on his shoulders.

"No," he said. "Really. If it hadn't been for you, I would be sleeping on a park bench or something."

"Go to sleep, Soul."

He met her weary gaze with warm burgundy eyes that made her insides feel gooey like the triple chocolate brownies that they had baked the day before. "Good night."

Maka hummed to herself as she poured coffee. Hearing footsteps approaching, she turned around. "You up for some food? I can make waffles or something." Her body froze like a pointer dog, like he was Medusa and she had turned to stone.

Soul meandered into the kitchen, naked except for a towel hanging loosely around his waist. "Yeah, that sounds good." He quirked an eyebrow. "Everything okay?"

Maka focused on the floor. Hmm. Had it always been that shade of pink? How interesting.

Soul reached behind her to grab an apple from the counter, his eyes never leaving hers. He took a bite.

"Careful," he said in a low voice. "Don't drop that."

Their noses were almost touching. His wet hair smelled like Maka's coconut shampoo.

What a jerk. Stealing my shower products is a new low. Despite her brain's feeble attempts at stopping, her eyes flickered to Soul's body.

She would be lying if she said he wasn't good-looking. He had a toned build and smooth, almost golden skin that would have been flawless except for a long scar running diagonally from the left side of his chest to his right hip. His hipbones were another thing entirely; they jutted out attractively in a way that made Maka's hands grip her coffee mug tight, and there was a trace of a happy trail leading down his abdomen, down to his…

Maka. Stop looking.

He was certainly handsome, but the day she fell head over heels because of a few muscles did not look to be in the near future. Men were all the same. She had learned that the hard way.

Maka scowled at him and dumped the contents of her now-cooled coffee into his face. He cried out in pain. Okay, maybe it wasn't exactly cooled yet.

"Ow… Ow! Maka! What was that for?"

"Now we're even," she said simply.

"Do you have some weird deal with coffee or something? Every time it's around, you seem to spill it on someone." He reached down and pulled up the hem of the towel to wipe his face off, but it exposed some things down under.

Maka looked away. "I don't have a deal. I actually like coffee. And you spilled it on me first, so..."

"Well you were about to pour it all over yourself when I came in," Soul said smugly. "Is that because I'm practically naked?"

"Ugh. No."

He took another bite of his apple. "If you say so."

Maka "hmph"ed and threw open the cupboard door to make another cup of coffee.

"So is that a no on those waffles?"

"I don't have time," she said, busily stirring her drink with a spoon. "I still have to get ready for work, and I haven't even showered yet."

"I have," Soul said helpfully. "It's pretty nice, by the way. I might have used up all the hot water, though."

"Whatever. I have to get to work. If I'm not there by eight, I'm done for."

Soul stopped chewing. "Uh, Maka?"

"What now?"

"It's eight twelve."

"No way. My watch says it's- oh, crap! It's half an hour early! How the hell did that happen?"

Soul peered at her wrist. "Looks like it's out of batteries. And it froze at seven forty two. Huh. Neat."

"No, it's not!" She balled her fists. "I'm going to be out of a job! I know that might not mean much to you, but unlike some people, I actually have to pay rent."

"I pay rent," Soul said. "Sometimes."

"You got kicked out of your apartment! And you're sleeping at a stranger's house too, I might add. I wouldn't say you're very well off."

"'Stranger?' I thought we were friends! And my landlord only kicked me out because he found me and his wife-"

"Stop!"

"At least I can have a little fun. When's the last time you fooled around, Maka? You're so uptight all the time. Maybe getting laid would loosen you up."

"Shut up. I have to go. Maybe my boss will believe it if I tell him the subway was late. Are you leaving or what?"

"I think I'll stay a while. I don't have anything else going on today."

"You promised me you would only stay one night!"

"I won't mess up the house too bad. I'll even make some food for when you get home, all right?"

"I don't have time for this," she said.

"Go. I'll be fine."

She poked her pointer finger into his chest to give him a final warning. "One more thing?"

"What?"

"What's with your scar?" She winced at her own words, almost expecting him to throw the apple at her. It sounded way more than a little insensitive, and she didn't mean it that way.

Soul smiled as carelessly as brushing away a fly. "That's a story for another time."