Here is the next Chapter everyone who is reading this story. This is Soul's weekend now. Yay!

We don't own Soul eater or any of its characters.

Thank you guys!

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There is a very big difference between wearing an outfit when you're home alone, and wearing it when you're going out to meet someone. I tugged at the skirt, hoping to make it cover more of my thigh. It seemed to spring back into its original position, in complete defiance. Stupid thing.

I was still fighting with it when Soul appeared. He, of course, laughed, and I, of course, slapped him in the face.

"Hey! God." He rubbed his cheek. "Touchy much."

"Where are we going?" I asked, ignoring him and the stinging pain he must be feeling.

He shrugged. "Hell if I know."

"What?"

He gave me a slight glare, narrowing his eyes in an uncaring way. "You just let the fun happen. No planning involved."

"Um….wow," I smirked, fighting back laughter. "That may have been the stupidest thing I've ever heard."

From the way his face seemed to twist, I would guess that he was torn between the urge to hurt me or to laugh with me. Instead, he said, "Let's go."

We started down the sidewalk from the corner where we met. I wanted to yell at him for slouching. Or maybe for being a few minutes late. But, for some unknown reason, I felt myself smiling, and I even forgot about my rather-short clothing. He was telling some story, and the way he told it made it more amusing than it actually was. Then I found myself staring at a building that, I swear, looked like a…provocative store.

He began to open the door as I screamed, "No! What do you think you're doing?"

"I'm going inside," he said like I was crazy.

I clutched onto his arm, a torrent of reasoning and pleads spilling from my lips. He tried to shake me off, which made me hold on tighter, and a woman exiting her car gave us a concerned glance.

Eventually I was dragged inside behind him. "Noooooooo—"

A man standing there, tapping his foot impatiently, cut me off with a, "Can I help you two?"

"Yeah. I'm here to pick something up," Soul said, obviously annoyed.

The entry we were standing in was filled with a polished wood floor and not much else. I dared to peek around, but saw nothing. It was like a hallway. There was a mysterious door at the end, and the edgy man in a fancy black suit. That was it. Images of dancing women and tons of skin and weird boxes containing even weirder objects were thankfully chased from my mind as Soul yanked me back outside.

"What was that?" I blinked.

Soul was holding a cardboard box. I didn't even notice he got that until now; I guess I was too absorbed in….well, yeah.

"It's nothing," he blushed.

Oh. My. God.

"What is that, Soul?" I hissed. "What did you buy?"

"Nothing! I was hoping this would come in earlier, but I was forced to bring you with me," he mumbled.

I halted, and crossed my arms over my chest. "Give it to me. That's illegal."

"It is not!" he barked.

I jumped, reaching for the mysterious box, and he wobbled out of the way. We kept fighting; he kept dodging.

"Get away, you insane bookworm!" he yelled.

"Give it to me!" I screamed back.

He turned away from me, and bolted down the street.

I ran after him before he could disappear from sight completely. He kept going. And going. I was dying, gasping for breath, a knife digging into my side. Dang, I'm out of shape, I thought, wanting nothing more than to stop and rest. A few agonizing blocks later and we were in front of a…mansion. Boy, the surprises never cease.

Soul seemed unconcerned with the fact that I had caught up. He started up the lawn with me in tow.

"What are you doing? This is trespassing!"

"Calm down. I live here."

"You live here?"

"Yeah," he rolled his eyes.

"It's…." I couldn't come up with the right words; the place was huge, for one, and beautiful. It was painted white with elegant green trimming, and if I craned my neck, I could see a pool in the back.

"I didn't want you to see this either," he sighed, now opening the door.

"Why not? This is amazing." I couldn't help but gasp at the entryway, with its enormous staircase and plush red carpet and expensive vases and paintings. It gave me a regal feeling.

"I hate it," he said darkly. "Can you wait here for a sec?"

"Sure," I muttered, in a fancy-induced daze. I'm in a mansion. A mansion!

Soul rushed upstairs as I continued to marvel at the place.

I was thinking something along the lines with "how can such a slacker live here?" when he came back. The box was gone.

To my disappointment, he didn't want to stay.

Out of concern for my well-being, I didn't ask about it as we continued walking. He didn't seem very happy at the moment.

"Where to now?" I asked after a while.

"No planning, remember?"

"Come on, you need some planning in your life."

"Do not."

"Do to."

He sighed, that sad look still on his face, and I got this crazy urge to cheer him up. "This is actually fun," I tried.

"What?" He stared at me, and then began to laugh. "We haven't even done anything!"

"I know," I pouted.

"Well, you haven't seen anything yet," he smirked.

After that, we had lunch at that bar, where Joe could tease us as much as he wanted to.

I spun around on the stool, sipping on my soda absentmindedly. I couldn't get the morning's events out of my head, even while Soul challenged me to darts (I lost), and then to pool (I lost).

"Hey you two!" Joe called to us. "Are you goin' out back?"

"Might as well," Soul shrugged, then smiled at me. "You ready for this?"

"Probably not!" Joe laughed merrily.

"Where…" I started, confused.

Joe motioned to us, and I followed Soul behind the bar. "Right this way, miss."

Past the rows of bottles, there was a green, velvet curtain, which he lifted up with a wide grin.

"Prepare to enter the hideout," Soul said in a mysterious voice.

"Umm, I'm not s—"

Soul shoved me forward before I could finish.

I don't know what I was expecting exactly.

A secret room where bartenders practiced their entertaining pouring techniques?

A place that was vacant, save for a circular table, where high-stake poker could be played?

Or, the most probable outcome, a storage room for various liquors?

What actually came into view was quite different. It was cozy. Reasonably clean. The small room had a low ceiling framed by white Christmas lights that twinkled in the dim lighting; there were a few beanbag chairs, a mini fridge, and an old TV that was set up on a squat nightstand. And I do mean an old TV—one of those bulky ones that I had when I was little.

Soul flopped down onto one of the beanbag chairs with a, "What do you think?"

I peeked back the way we came to see that Joe was gone. "It's nice," I said, sitting down across from him.

"I hang out here a lot," he explained, opening the door to the fridge with his foot. "Want a drink?"

"No!" I said instinctively.

"Calm down. Joe doesn't let me drink. Most of the time," he grinned, throwing a bottle of water at me. I managed to catch it and he said, "It matches your personality."

"What?"

"Plain water. Plain girl." He smiled expectantly.

"Shut up," I growled.

Before he could respond, I threw the bottle at his face. He ducked, chuckling, and said, "That wasn't nice."

"Whatever," I pouted. "I guess I'm winning this bet, huh?"

"Huh?" Soul turned back to me after messing with the TV until it flickered to life. "Did you just use the word 'win'?"

"Yes, I did." I rolled my eyes.

"Wait. I don't think I heard you right. Can you repeat that?" he teased.

"I. Am. Winning. This. Bet."

"Says the girl who took me to the library."

"There's nothing wrong with the library!"

"Sure there isn't," he said sarcastically. "Not at all."

I glared at him in response, and he opened a can of Coke. "Want one?"

I shrugged, and was rewarded with a soda instead of the "plain water."

He stretched out, getting comfortable, and we watched some crime show for a while. Not to sound stupid or anything, but it felt kind of special sitting there. Just because this room was tucked away, out of view, and it was like no one could find us. We could keep loafing around, pigging out on junk food (a bag of chips mysteriously appeared after a few minutes) and no one would be able to stop us.

That feeling vanished when we heard voices.

"Hey, Joe! Is my baby bro here?"

"I'm afraid he isn't."

"Well, I guess I'll just have to sit here and wait then. How have you been doing?"

"I'm fine," Joe said coldly. Which was odd for him.

"I really want to meet this girl," he sighed.

"Hmm."

"Have you met her? What is she like?"

"I wouldn't know."

"He went to the trouble…you know?" There was a clank.

"Uh-huh. Shouldn't you be practicing?"

"Some things are more important. Do you get good business way out here?"

They continued with formalities as I watched Soul's face contort and twist until it was unrecognizable. I reached out and brushed against his shoulder uncertainly; for a second, I thought he was going to strike me in his obvious rage, but instead he turned the TV off with a harsh jab.

"That asshole set me up," he snarled.

I nodded as if I knew what he was talking about.

He stood up and strode out of the hideout, and I rushed after him, concerned.

A guy—Soul's brother?—was sitting at the bar, a glass in front of him and a charming smile on his face. He was good-looking with an easygoing aura that automatically made me relax a tiny bit. He brightened at our appearance with a welcoming, "Hi, Soul!"

"Hi," Soul said flatly.

"What kind of greeting is that? Aren't you going to introduce me?" He smiled pointedly in my direction, and I flushed.

"I'm busy," he snapped, headed towards the door.

"And I'm Wes," he joked. "I took time off of rehearsal to come meet you guys."

Soul stopped dead in his tracks. "I didn't ask you to do that, did I? And if you really can spare that much of your precious time, you could have picked up that goddamn package."

Wes held his hands up; a sign of surrender. "Whoa. I had to—"

I didn't hear the rest because Soul grabbed my hand and I found myself blinking in the sudden sunlight.

He practically ran down the street, taking quick, heated steps. He didn't let go of me until we were well away from the bar.

"Soul, are you ok?" I asked tentatively. For some unfathomable reason, we were walking through one of those middle-class "children friendly/community oriented" neighborhoods where all the houses look the same.

"Yeah."

I stayed quiet until we were at a large gate. I could see flashes of pool water in-between the wire, and by this time, the sun was setting, so the reflection was worse in comparison to the faint daylight.

"What are you—Soul?"

I gasped at him as he began to climb up the fence with ease, digging his shoes into the gaps in the wire. Once he was on the other side, giving me a smug thumbs up, I was well into my refusal mode.

"No."

"Come on, Maka, don't be a wimp."

"No!"

"I'll help you."

"Do you see that sign?" I pointed.

"No, bookworm, I do not have x-ray vision."

"We're not allowed in. This pool is for people who live in this community! You need a key!"

"And?" he asked, unimpressed.

"And!" I threw my hands up. "Do you go looking for trouble?"

"Nope."

"Besides you have your own pool."

He frowned. "So what, Maka? Maybe I'd rather go swimming here."

I bit my lip regretfully. "I don't understand."

"You don't have to," he muttered.

"I'm sorry."

I don't know why I apologized. I just did. His face scrunched up and his mood seemed to be restored. "Aww, don't make me feel guilty," he chuckled. "Now come on."

The rest of the day was filled with the usual.

You know.

Me struggling to climb over the fence, him laughing at me.

Him pushing me into the pool the second I let my guard down.

Us trying to swim as our clothing weighed us down.

I didn't ask any questions, even though I was bursting with them, and for that, I think he was grateful.

Some other things happened as well….but I was more focused on the mere thought of doing this all again tomorrow.