Chapter Six: Summer Berry

School was out of session for summer and Joel was visiting Soul for a few days. Soul didn't know what Wes expected them to be doing, but so far it was hanging out in the shop. He was an easy kid to watch, not prone to exploring or breaking things in way Soul had been at that age.

Well, mostly.

Joel had destroyed Soul's high score on Tetris by the time Marie arrived in, with a baby strapped into a carrier. She hefted it up on the counter and plonked down her binder. It wasn't the healthiest looking baby, a sort of greyish tinge to the skin tone, but it burbled cheerfully at Soul and his nephew. Joel looked unimpressed, and sat back on the high stool and continued making Soul look highly unprofessional.

"So, you got the little fella out eventually?" Stupid yellow dressed babies. Don't blame him for not knowing what they are when you dress them in ungendered colours.

"Oh I did! Isn't she wonderful? I can hardly get my husband to leave her long enough to go to work and he's a forensic coroner in the city-" by that, he assumed she meant Vegas, Death City had a very low crime rate, "- so it's not like he isn't busy, but she's such an angel he can hardly stand to leave her side!"

The angel started crying.

Marie hushed her gently, struggling briefly with the childproof clasp mechanism and scooping her out of the carrier.

"Hungry?" Marie asked gently, popping a boob right out of her top and nursing the baby. She latched on immediately, looking like a tiny grey and yellow parasite. Soul's mind snapped to panic mode – should he cover Joel's eyes? This was what boobs were for, but Joel was only ten. Did Stella breastfeed? Soul glanced at him.

Joel hadn't even looked up from his game of Tetris.

Soul sighed in relief. Also, did that baby have to be so goddamn loud? It was the only sound in the whole shop, practically overpowering his carefully formulated Spotify playlist.

"Anyway, Soul, I was wondering-" Soul looked up as the bells above his door chimed. Shaped like graceful lilies and with a gentler tone than he'd expected, Soul stood by his decision to blow the amount he had on them when he'd stumbled across them on Etsy.

"Marie?" Maka pushed her way in through the door. She was carefully balancing three cups in a cardboard Deathbucks tray in her arms. "Marie, I had no idea you and Adele would here, I'd have gotten you something if I'd known,"

"Oh, Maka it's so good to see you! Azusa told me you seemed to be doing well, but unfortunately I've been too busy to look in on your shop just yet," Marie smiled and Adele pulled away, satisfied. She tucked her breast back into her top and tossed a cloth over her shoulder before beginning to burp her.

"Soul, this is for you-" Maka handed him his usual, it tasted like sea salt ice-cream. A subtler flavour than Patti normally tried on for size, but it was still good. "And Joel, I didn't know what you'd like so I just got you a hot chocolate."

Joel didn't look up, but mumbled a quiet thanks and grabbed the drink. He took a too-long draught of the scalding drink before unpausing the game and going back to smashing Soul's high score.

Maka looked like she wanted to offer Marie her sweet tea, but like she was aware that caffeine and breastfeeding are a huge no-no.

"Oh sweetie, I'm fine, I don't really go in for iced tea anyway you know that… Stein missed you at the lab, you know. He says all his other co-workers are terribly boring, I keep telling him that he should just give them a chance, but that's Frank for you, thinks he has the measure of someone after just one look," Marie smiled fondly. "Of course, he insists he knew you were going to turn out alright the instant he met you, and he wasn't wrong there, now was he Soul?"

"Huh? What?" Soul started, surprised at his being dragged into what appeared to be two former colleagues catching up.

"Our Maka, she's pretty great, isn't she?"

Soul wasn't about to disagree with a woman who had suddenly gained a murderous glint in her eye. Not that he would've disagreed anyway.

"Yeah, she's pretty great," Soul shrugged. "Knows my coffee order and everything."

Maka blushed brightly, ducking her head to hide it.

"Marie, Stein's known me almost as long as he has you," Maka grinned. "Besides, what was he supposed to do, tell his best friends that their baby was going to grow up to be a terrible person?"

"Oh, Maka, he'd never tell anyone their baby was going to grow up to be bad person," Marie sounded like she had her doubts about this statement. "Besides, he promised me Adele is going to be wildly successful in everything she endeavours upon, as long as she endeavours upon Mechanical Engineering…"

"I'm sure she'll be great," Maka said. "Don't you have business?"

"Oh I'd completely forgotten!" Marie shoved her 'bundle of joy' at Maka. "Adele, meet your godmother!"

Maka nearly fumbled the catch, but Marie had turned her complete attention to Soul. "Now Soul, about the Dupree/Diehl wedding, I've finally convinced them that they need more than just the eight bouquets, but it's not much more, unfortunately. Kim's niece is going to be flower girl, although how that's going to work when they both walk in from opposite sides at the same time I have no idea. I'll have to talk to them about something el-"

"Maka are you crying?" Soul interrupted. "Are you okay? Joel, pause that game and go grab a box of tissues, would ya?"

Joel slid off the stool and obediently retrieved them.

Soul was not prepared for this. Maka was crying over a baby, sniffling and tears and shit, shit, shit. What the ever-loving fuck was he supposed to do?

"Marie…" She hiccupped. "I'm so… are you… Are you sure?"

"Oh, my we forgot to ask you didn't we?" Marie said. "I'm so sorry, we've just been so busy."

"Here," Joel handed her a tissue.

"Thanks," Maka said, "Soul, would you mind-?"

Soul took Adele – what was this, pass the new-born life? - and held her, grateful that Wes had shown him how not to accidentally kill a baby when Joel was first born. She looked up at him with big green eyes a little too close in appearance to Maka's and stared and stared. Soul stared back, transfixed and competitive. He wasn't going to lose a staring competition to a baby.

Marie and Maka hugged, Maka crying gently into Marie shoulder, tears of happiness creating a damp patch in Marie's nursing top. Soul hummed quietly, a song he can't tell if he's remembering of making up on the fly. Whichever it is, it feels a little like a blessing and prayer, the best gift that he could offer to his tiny life that someone was stupid enough to trust him with for even a short period of time.

She smiled at him, all pink gums, and he smiled back. She didn't seem bothered by the teeth that had caused orthodontist so much strife. His song faded, and he rocked her in its absence. He wasn't doing so badly at this, for a guy who didn't like babies all too much. Maybe babies were like cats, they either liked you or they didn't, regardless of how you felt about them.

Eventually Maka took back the baby and began talking to her gently, and Marie told him about the pomander for Kim's niece and the flower crowns that would be required for both brides.

"Obviously we'll stick with the scheme we already have…"

Soul wasn't paying too much attention. He managed to jot down a couple of notes, and 'hmm' in Marie's direction occasionally, but the vast majority of his focus was elsewhere. Maka didn't have a way with babies, it seemed.

Maybe it took a while to develop some maternal instincts or whatever, but Soul was going to enjoy the terrified expression on her face while it lasted. If he strained his hearing her could hear that instead of gentle cooing, she was actually summarizing Saturday Night Fever. He could see her wincing as she started to regret whatever choices she'd made that led to her choosing that particular film.

Marie had that same knowing look in her eye. It was starting to get on his nerves.

She snapped her binder closer and shook her head. "I'll email you the details Soul," she reached for her baby, but Maka seemed reluctant to relinquish Adele before getting to the end of the story she was telling.

Marie frowned and Maka kissed the baby's soft downy hair before passing her back to Marie.

Joel visiting meant two things. It meant that Soul would have to sleep on his hand-me-down couch and that his piano would be well tuned, possibly several times over.

Starbucks opening meant a lot of things, least of all of them was sitting on the floor with a large sheet of poster board making a sign offering ten percent off all freshly made bouquets to customers with Deathbucks loyalty cards (with at least ten stamps) trying to make poster paint look highly professional. Joel wasn't helping, he was too enthralled with meticulously disassembling Soul's upright, but if anyone asked Soul would tell them he'd a big hand in making the thing.

It's been open a few days, and they are doing alarmingly well, sucking customers from Deathbucks like it was a vampire as opposed to a faceless corporation. Soul made a mental note to photograph the building though, just to make sure.

He looked down at his poster and sighed.

He should've asked Star for help. He should've knitted the poster instead of attempting to paint it. And most of all, he should've known that the cat would walk all over it before it was dry and not only smudge the letters, but track the coloured paint across his favourite rug.

Actually, it was his only rug, but in the words of the immortal Dude; it really tied the room together. And now it had little green paw prints tracked over it at an above average frequency, due to Oni's stumpy, stumpy legs. He should've returned that damn cat when he had the chance. Now it lived with him, in his apartment and he had to keep it out of the shop because apparently lily pollen is basically cat arsenic and as much as he hated the damn thing he didn't want it to die.

Even if it did ruin his favourite rug and his valiant attempts at graphic design. Soul had done art in high school, and he'd been good at it. Where had it all gone wrong? He held the poster up to Joel.

"Pianoman, waddya think?"

Joel studied it the poster gravely.

"I think your cat walked on it."

"He did, but y'know, apart from that."

"It's okay," Joel was not one to falsely boost confidence.

Soul groaned and instagrammed the poster, maybe the cat paw print thing would be endearing and at any rate, the craft store was definitely closed by this time of night. Wait, should Joel be in bed? What time did ten year olds go to bed? He should text Wes or Stella, but they'd be mad if bedtime was supposed to be before now.

They hadn't even had dinner yet, it couldn't be bedtime.

He should order in. He'd already had one of Joel's sandwiches today and he wasn't sure another one would be healthy, especially given what was in the fridge.

His phone buzzed, it was a text from Maka. He opened it and picture of the cat pressed up against the door to her shop made him laugh. He showed it to Joel and Oni who cracked a smile and ignored it, respectively. He sent a reply.

-how could u leave him like that

He swiftly followed it up with.

-u got dinner plans

Soul hurried over to his windows, the ones facing out onto the street to try and see her. The angle wasn't great and the streetlights were dim but if he pressed his cheek right up against the glass he could just about see her frowning at her phone and typing. She shook her head, hair waving, and he could only assume erased what she had written so far and started again. She looked paused, looking around for inspiration.

-Not yet. Is this an invitation?

-Are you watching me? That's really creepy.

Soul peeked out the window. Maka waved at him.

Soul jumped back from the window like it had burned him. He yanked the curtains shut, the fabric ripping off the rings at the end. He stumbled onto the couch, and put his head between his knees. Soul took a few deep breathes, trying to figure out what to say that wouldn't make him seem either really stupid or really creepy. And then when no suitable answer came upon him, he took a few more. Then another one. He was going to be sick.

Joel studied him, then went and got a plastic basin from under the sink. Great, he even looked like he was going to be sick. Joel handed him the basin.

"Thanks," Soul set it on the couch, easily within arm's reach. Just in case.

There was a knock on the door. And Soul, like the responsible adult that he was, gestured frantically at Joel not to open the door while he hid behind the couch. This was not cool at all.

There was another knock.

"Open the door Soul," it was Maka. She knocked again, louder this time. "Soul it was a joke."

Joel got up and answered the door, not bothering to look through the peephole to see who it was. That's it, Soul was cutting all remaining ties to his family, they were all cold blooded traitors. He had no family. He was a lone wolf with a florist's. And a cat, he reminded himself, as Oni clawed his stumpy legged way up Soul's couch to perch on his shoulder and curl into the warmth of his neck.

"Oh!" Maka stumbled as her redoubled efforts to knock where thwarted by the sudden absence of a door upon which to knock. "Oh, uhm, hi!"

"He's behind the couch."

"Okay," She said to Joel's back. "Soul?"

He was not leaving his fortress. This was his safe place, where he would forever dwell and send the cat to do the grocery shopping. He had his smartphone and he could reach the remote from here, unless Joel had moved it. His new home was small and the dust tickled his nose, but he could be happy here he was sure of it.

"Soul," Maka said, leaning over the top of the couch to look at him, "What are you doing?"

Her hair was hanging down, and Oni started batting at the golden length of it.

"Uh…"

"Seriously Soul," Maka frowned. "It was a joke, can you please come out for there now? The dust is making me want to-"

She sneezed. It was adorable. Everything about her was adorable and he was so, so screwed. Oni sensed his intention to move and dug his little claws into Soul shoulder.

Soul reluctantly exited his new home to greet his guest in the living room/kitchen of his former home. He'd forgotten how nice it was out here, where he used to live. He looked at Maka, who was dressed for the summer heat in a tank top and gaudy golden bicycle shorts. She was wearing flip-flops and he could see the goose bumps rising on her arms. His apartment was air-conditioned, but apart from that, although it was hot during the day, it could be bitterly cold at night.

"So…" Maka rocked forward on her toes, and then back again, "Do you have dinner plans?"

"Not yet, but I could, uh, make some, real quick," Soul rubbed the back of his neck. "Would you like to be involved in those plans?"

"Do they involve Indian food?"

"I mean, they could, you know, if you wanted?"

"Yes," Maka pinked. "I would like that."

Joel's stomach growled in the background, something the kid himself paid no attention to, but that affirmed in Soul's mind the absolute necessity of feeding the child your former brother has left you in charge of for a weekend. He rushed through the all-important drawer of take-out menus to find an Indian place.

They were watching the Prisoner of Azkaban. Not the best maybe-date material but Joel was still up so it's not like he could break out Saw IV and have her clutching to him and trying to hide behind him in the scary parts. She didn't seem like the kind of person to do that anyway.

The empty takeout containers were in the bin, and the leftovers were in the fridge for future consumption. There was a plastic mixing bowl on the counter that held some unpopped kernels of popcorn and not much else. Tomorrow's Joel sandwich was going to be interesting.

The totally kid friendly nature of the film didn't stop her from curling up against him. She was warm against him, and it was with great hesitation and more nerves than the thought possible that he'd put his arm around her earlier. She'd snuggled in a little closer when he'd done that.

Joel was focused on the film, piano tinkering abandoned under duress. He was starting to look a little sleepy, and Soul was willing to bet that he wouldn't make the end. As if on cue, he yawned and tugged one of the many knitted blankets over himself. He'd be asleep within fifteen minutes. Thank god Maka had had the good sense to make him put on his mismatched pyjamas before they'd put on the movie.

She slowly scooted closer to him, pulling her knees and feet up onto the couch. Maka groped for a blanket and threw it over them, squirming in against him just as lightning struck on screen. He wanted to pull her into his lap, but instead slung his arm over her when she dropped her head onto his shoulder. He rested his cheek against her head, marvelling at how soft her hair was against it.

The moment is just that, a moment, and it ended when she leant forward to grab the remote from the coffee table. She paused the movie. Maggie's Smith disapproving gaze took up the flatscreen. Soul didn't know what part they were at exactly, but they couldn't have been more than halfway through.

"Joel's asleep," She said quietly. "Maybe you should-"

"I'll put him to bed," Soul stood up. Maka grabbed the blanket before it could fall to the floor, and wadded it up under the guise of folding. "Could you get the door? It's the one on the right."

Maka got up, and crept barefoot across the floor, her flip-flops long since abandoned.

Soul scooped Joel into his arms, his head lolling. God, the kid was heavy. Next time he was waking him up and sending him to bed. Joel slept like the dead, and apparently that included rigor mortis, seeing as there was no way he was letting go of that blanket. Fine, leave him have it. What difference would it make?

Maka had switched on the bedside light and pulled back the covers of Soul's unmade bed. He thought about making a joke about 'finally getting her in his room' but considering the disgustingly domestic context of them putting his nephew to bed, he didn't want to seem gross.

He tucked Joel under the covers, snatching up the spare pillow as he went. He'd need it for his planned night of sleeping on the couch because Joel was both a blanket hog and a kicker. Oni, hopped up on the bed, curling in the crook of Joel's knee and purring like an engine. (An idling tractor engine, to be precise.) Maka was hovering at the threshold of the room, observing him as he gently brushed Joel's fringe out of the way to plant a goodnight kiss on his forehead. He switched off the bedside lamp.

"Hey," Maka said, quietly after he shut the door. "Wanna watch the rest?"

"Yeah, uh, sure," he sat back on the couch and reached over to lower the volume a few notches and unpause the film. Maka took a few seconds to cross the room, before sitting beside him again. There was a space between them now, it felt cavernous, but the truth was that it couldn't be more than a few inches. He missed her warmth, the places she was pressed up against feel so cold now.

She shivered, and Soul reached over and tugged her closer.

Maka leaned in closer again, her head a sudden weight against his shoulder. She sighed quietly, a soft noise of contentment that made Soul wonder what else she could sound like. He absently started stroking the soft bare skin of her arm. She shivered again.

"Cold?" she was wearing golden bicycle shorts and a tank top after all. She shook her head, but Soul grabbed one of the abandoned throws with his free hand anyway and pulled it over them. She settled back against him and mumbled a quiet thanks. He leaned his head against hers and kept tracing slow, soft circles against her bare upper arm.

She sighed again, and Soul glanced at her. The glance became a stare, and he was drinking in her delicate features, gentle curl of her golden eyelashes and the soft pink pout of her lips. Her hair was silk soft against his cheek and he could smell her shampoo and the musty smell of books and cats. It was delicious and Soul turned his face into her hair in order to better capture the strangely intoxicating scent.

Her free hand was playing across the flat planes of his stomach over his faded, aged to perfect softness band shirt. He suddenly regretted not working on his abs in the past five years. She slowly, achingly slowly moved her hand down and it crept under the fabric. He swallowed thickly; he could feel her soft, delicate fingers stroking the trail of hair that led from his navel to places he was trying really hard not to think about right that second. He gripped her upper arm too tightly and learned that even relaxed her bicep felt like corded steel, his free hand clenched into a white knuckled fist under the blanket.

Her green eyes moved away from the television to meet his graze through her soft lashes and there's something dark there, something that added to the smouldering heat he could feel his belly and everywhere that she was touching.

He swallowed again and she leaned away, ever so slightly, to look up at his face. Her hand burned where it stilled against his stomach, but he could still feel the ghosts of the feather light caresses she'd previously been indulging in. She licked her lips and all of a sudden he couldn't stop staring at them.

She bit her bottom lip, before slowly releasing it. Soul wondered if her lips were soft and if they'd taste of the eos lip-balm he'd seen her using. He leaned into her, his nose brushing hers gently. She blinked slowly, her eyes becoming large and round, like she was surprised. Her pupils were so dilated there only a thin band of green iris remained. He moved back an inch, disappointed, and he could see panic flash in her beautiful too-green eyes.

Her palm was pressing into his stomach, and his arm fell away from her shoulder when she leaned up to kiss him. His eyelids fell shut. Her lips were soft and tasted of sharp red fruits and the tart flavour of summer berries when he swept his tongue across her bottom lip. She groaned, her nails digging into his stomach. Her free hand cupped his jaw and she led him onto his back as she traced the seam of his lips with her tongue. He opened his mouth and he tasted of beer and buttery popcorn. The kiss was veering towards hungry just as she pulled away, breathless.

She leaned back to study him, his pupils blown wide and his cheeks flushed. He looked at her like she'd just festooned the stars across the skies. Her chest felt full of air and a low heat coiled in her belly. Egged on by what was pressing hard into her thigh through Soul's jeans, she leaned down and kissed him again soft and open mouthed and a little sloppy. She felt tipsy, even she hadn't taken the beer Soul had offered her earlier. Her other hand joined the one already under his shirt, her nails raking down his chest and catching on the old scar they found there, before hooking impatiently on the waistband of his jeans. He made a soft noise in the back of his throat when she pulled away again.

He reached up a rubbed a thumb across his cheek before leaning up to meet her, nipping her lower lips with his sharp, pointed teeth, before deepening the kiss into something that that burned down his spine. She arched her back towards him, desperate to relieve some of the building pressure and he broke off the kiss, panting. He looked at her for a second that seemed like an eternity, before he tugged the straps of her bra and tank top aside and pressed his lips to where his toned shoulder met her neck and bit it gently with his teeth.

His hands settled on her hip toying with the hem of her shirt before slipping under, his thumbs tracing gentle, maddening circles around the sharp bones of her hips. Maka's nails dug into his back, as his hands moved up, resting on her ribcage, those long pianist fingers stroking hot lines into her skin. He released her neck, admiring the red mark that would become a dark bruise. Frustrated, Maka pulled away, yanking her top over her head, why did he have to be so goddamn slow?

Soul jerked back, surprised at the aggressive behaviour as she tugged his shirt off and threw it to some distant corner of the room. He leaned back, admiring the colour that spilled over from her back and the plain t-shirt bra she wore. It closed at the front, and neither of them made any move to remove it, enthralled by what had already been revealed. She studied his with an expression of great concentration, her hand making its slow gentle way down the puckered scar that bisected his chest.

He grabbed her wrist, tugging her hand away from the old injury. She dragged her eyes away from it to meet his.

"What happened?"

"Motorcycle crash, years ago," his voice was husky. "Don't worry 'bout it."

She leaned down and pressed a kiss to it. He kissed her roughly when she looked up, teeth clacking and noses pressing into each other hard and Maka could definitely tie a cherry stem into a knot with her tongue. She fumbled with his belt and he popped open her bra with surprising ease, groaning when she pressed her chest against him, pushing the soft, small mounds into his hands. He rolled her already erect nipples between his fingers, pulling away from the kiss to stare at them, awestruck.

Maka gasped when she felt his hot tongue across the valley of her breasts and he took one of her nipples into her mouth, cautiously worrying it with his teeth. He palmed the other, soft and heavy in his hand. Her hands abandoned his belt and she wound them into his hair, fingers clutching desperately, pulling too hard while she ground against him.

Soul ears pricked when he heard his name, soft and breathy and caught somewhere between and a prayer and a curse.

He undid the neglected belt with one hand and fumbled with the button fly. Maka tugged on his hair, pulling him away and he released her almost painful nipple with a wet pop! He looked up at her confusion dancing across his face as she swung her leg over and hopped down to stand beside the couch.

He propped himself up on his elbows, staring unabashedly as she hooked her thumbs into her damn gold bicycle shorts, pressing her thighs together. She was about to starting shimmying them down her long legs when she screamed, stumbling backwards and tripping over the coffee table. The empty beer bottle rolled to the floor, but didn't break. Soul stood up, stumbled on his loosened jeans, and made soothing shushing gestures. Joel was asleep in the next room!

"What the fuck is that?" Maka asked, mercifully quiet but still breathless and freaked. Her legs were on the coffee table and she was struggling to stand.

"What the fuck is what?" Soul asked, grabbing the pillow he'd brought from his room to use as a weapon. A highly ineffective one, most likely.

"That, what the fuck is that head?" Maka said, arms clutched over her bare chest. Soul was still glancing around, pillow raised. He saw what she was looking at.

Nothing could kill a mood like the ugliest plant pot Soul had ever seen, sitting on his counter like a vindictive decapitated Goliath.

"Oh, that's Bernard," Soul shrugged. He dropped the pillow and pulled her up. She shoved him out of the way and bent down to grab her tank top, pulling it over head as she took the most direct route to the pot and scrambled over the couch. Soul sighed and walked around it, buttoning his fly as he went.

He grabbed Maka's bra off the floor and offered it to her. She took it silently and continued to appraise the terracotta pot while she put it on under her tank top, using some kind of female dexterity that baffled Soul.

"Where on earth did you get it?" She asked, "It looks so familiar."

Yeah, that's because I stole it from your trash.

"I got him, uh, nevermind where I got him," Soul rubbed the back of his neck and glanced around for his shirt. It was lost in one of the dark corners of the open plan room. "I forget."

"I could swear I've seen it before," she said, almost to herself, "It's definitely not a face you'd forget in a hurry."

She snapped her fingers, Soul was tempted to lean over and flip on the light switch.

"There was one just like in the shop when I moved in."

"That's uh, so weird," Soul's ears burned and his face reddened.

"And it's strange, because I remember when I left that evening it wasn't outside with the other… Soul. Soul, is that the same plant pot? Soul, is that the ugly pot I threw away?" she looked at him, and he knew the question was already leaning well into the range of rhetorical.

"Yeah, it's the same pot."

"But why would you take it? It's the ugliest thing I've ever seen, the cats were terrified of it!" Maka said. "Why would you keep it? In your home? Where you can see it!?"

"It was free?" Soul shrugged. "Thought it'd make me look better? Once I planted it was too heavy to move."

She looked at his arms, they weren't noodles, but they weren't exactly 'guns' either.

Maka laughed. Laughed hard. Then started wheezing and struggling to breathe, causing Soul some concern, as she headed to the door.

"Soul if you can't move, we're not… I'm not having sex where that thing can see us," Maka shook her head, laughing still as she put on her flip-flops. "It's watching me; I can feel its eyes following me around the room," her laughter died as she swayed first this way then that to confirm her hypothesis.

"I can put a blanket over it?" Soul said, in the vain hope the night was salvageable.

"That's a tempting offer, but I'm afraid I'll have to decline," Maka looked at the pot and shuddered. "I'm going home."

"You can stay if you'd like, it's late. We don't have to… you know. We can just sleep. You can have the couch?"

"In the same room as that thing?" she hauled open the door. Soul could see her point. He was starting to wonder how he was going to sleep in the same room at it.

"Wait, uh, take this," the maroon cable knit Aran jumper was nearly finished; it just had a few ends to tuck in. It would do for now. He snatched it up and offered it to her. "'S cold out."

"I really can't stay," she kept her eyes on the pot plant like she was daring it to make a sudden move.

She pulled the jumper over her head, and wriggled her arms into the too-long sleeves. She was hesitating, stretching out the goodbye for just a few seconds more. Soul didn't mind, she looked adorable in that too-big sweater and gold bicycle shorts.

She grabbed his arm and yanked him down to her height before pressing a long, lingering kiss to his lips.

"Don't think I won't finish what we started somewhere that thing can't see us," she said fiercely.

The door closed and she left Soul alone, stunned and pressing his finger to his lips, in the dust long before he could ask her to text him when she got home safe.

Please R&R. I extra mean it for this chapter. That whole thing before the plant pot, that was hard and I have a great many doubts about it.