Author Notes: Sorry that this chapter took as long as it did to get done...taking a week off from writing made it difficult to get back into the groove of things with this. As a little PSA: Each chapter of this is named after a Ludovico Einaudi song that kinda fits the mood and tone of each, so that's why the chapter titles are in both English and Italian. As always, I own nothing, because- believe me- if I'd come into the ownership of Soul Eater by now, I would have forced Ohkubo to make SoMa canon.

Waking up without the shrill call of either alarm clock or meister was an odd experience for Soul. He came to consciousness slowly, enjoying the warmth of his blankets and the memory of falling asleep still in resonance. It must have slipped sometime during the night, because his soul was no longer merged with Maka's when he came to, though a concentrated melody pulsed in his mind, a reminder that she was there in the room with him. If she knew that he was awake, she made no mention of it, letting Soul wake up at his own pace.

A pace he regretted as he looked at the alarm clock and noted that it was already past noon.

He forced himself to sit up, reminded that he had to play at The Dive later that night. As he did so, he caught the bitter scent of coffee. The room was bright, and he had to squint as he looked at his meister. Her brows were furrowed and her legs were crossed, a small laptop balanced on her legs.

"Whaz tha'," he asked, confusion and drowsiness slurring his voice. Her eyes were wide as she turned to face him, hair curling at her collarbones. She had removed her bandage and washed her hair, it seemed, because the dried blood was gone, as were her typical pigtails. The effect made her look older. Having gone a couple months without getting it cut, it was longer than she normally kept it. Soul found that he liked it that way.

Cheeks coloring, she spoke: "I needed internet access and my phone wasn't cooperating. I called in a favor from Shibusen and I...well...I got this." Her foot flexed, brushing against the top of the computer in what Soul assumed was supposed to be an identifying gesture.

Bemusement crossed his face and he stretched. "Usin' Shibusen funds to buy something as extravagant as a laptop, Maka?"

She took a sip of her coffee and shrugged. "I figure that it's payback for their not telling the cops that we're working out here. Besides, it's just a netbook. I made sure that I got a good deal." Raising an eyebrow at him, she turned back to the computer, tapping at the trackpad.

"You went out without me?" There was a peevish tone to his voice, but Maka paid it no heed.

"I didn't want to wake you. You went to sleep pretty late, after all."

He threw a glare at her as he extracted himself from the covers. "So did you, Maka."

Her eyes looked bored as she met his gaze. "I couldn't sleep much. Figured I'd get some work done."

"Is that what that's for?" Soul asked, passing her bed as he walked to the bathroom.

"Of course," she called back. "Why else do you think I'd get it?"

"I dunno." There was laughter in his voice, echoing from the doorway. "Maybe you finally got bored with all those books of yours."

"I bet this would hurt more if I hit you with it," she teased in response. Soul's laughter was cut short. The sounds of him shuffling about in the bathroom, locating one of the three toothbrushes they had bought, melded with the slow tapping of her fingers at the computer. She took another loud sip of her coffee.

Though the pain in her head had mostly died down, Maka had only gotten a few hours of sleep. When she woke, the thrumming bond of resonance between her and Soul had still been intact, though it had felt different than it normally did. It had felt more primal, like their souls were held together by a magnetic force rather than through a force of will. In the moment, it had been terrifying and deeply intimate. Maka had watched her partner's sleeping face as she let herself grow accustomed to the sensation of their unconscious resonance.

Though there was comfort in the presence their bond, Maka had found that falling back asleep escaped her. Frustration with their lack of progress in hunting down Mack was underlaid with her own romantic confusion, causing her mind to work on overdrive. Lacking any other leads, she had decided to take a look at missing person reports, hoping to find insight there. Phone internet proving to be frustrating and ultimately useless, she decided that it was time for Shibusen to pay for her father's negligence.

She was accustomed to her father's antics, but her heart had not hardened enough that this particular betrayal didn't hurt. It seemed as though even his history with the case was not enough to make him prioritize her mission over his personal vice. Even though, by all logic, he should want Mack caught even more than she! Not wanting to risk waking her partner with her anger shaking through the bond, she broke their resonance. It had been like ripping off a bandaid. She left the room as quietly as she could before storming out to engage in the most therapeutic impulse-purchase of her life.

A lazy smile spread on Maka's face. She could hear the sound of Soul scrubbing at his teeth; its mundane nature soothed her.

While out buying the netbook, Maka's anger had fizzled out quickly, leaving her with the tangled mess of her feelings for Soul. Though she had quickly picked out the netbook that she wanted, Maka had malingered in the electronics store, pondering her situation. The disorganized state of her heart offended the part of Maka that demanded order, so as she browsed row after row of silicon, she forced herself to come to a succinct conclusion.

First was, despite the uncertainty with which she had answered Soul the previous night, she suspected that she did, in fact, love him. He had been her best friend for years and she trusted him with her life. If she would come to love anyone, Soul was by far the most likely candidate.

That uncertainty, then, did not stem from a lack of an emotional connection. Neither was it an issue of souls, for she and her partner had long since proven that their wavelengths were exceptional when it came to compatability. Therefore, she thought, her timidity must stem from a dearth of physical connection. That, however, was not necessarily true, since she was now plainly aware of just how attractive she found Soul.

Eventually she concluded that the main thing that confused her about having feelings for Soul was her own preconceptions about how love worked. Her parents' marriage had been rocky for as long as she could remember. Though Maka had watched her flirt of a father woo and win over countless women over the years, she knew little of how actual relationships were supposed to work. The best example of a relationship in Maka's life was Kim and Ox, and she had paid little heed to their doings. Being the bookworm that she was, though, Maka had a steady stream of romance fed to her through the written word for many years. This, she found, was almost as bad as not having a proper example of a real relationship. In books, the romance of the characters was, more often than not, a spectacular thing- something to rattle the stars and warm the bones. If the books she'd read were to be believed, she was supposed to get lost in Soul's eyes, crave his every caress, and feel his absence like a missing limb.

Maka found that she would never be lost in Soul's eyes. They were too expressive, too responsive to her gaze; in his eyes, Maka saw herself reflected. The eyes of her partner were ones in which she could find herself- renew her strength when the tides of battle made her muscles ache. Even in weapon form, his eye was there, watching her, lending her his own courage and determination as they cut down their foe.

As for his absence...Maka had realized with a start that they had been only rarely parted since they had first teamed up. They lived together, worked together, ate together...they'd even come into the habit of studying together, books and papers stacked around them in a little fort of unified academic struggle. When Soul was gone, Maka did in fact feel like she was missing something: her battle-mate, her best friend, her partner. His presence was more important to her than any limb.

The idea of craving his caress had given Maka much pause. Though she could admit to finding Soul's form pleasing, Maka couldn't quite wrap her mind around the idea of their contact being sexual in nature. At first she had assumed that maybe that was because her feelings of love were more familial in nature, but then she remembered the shivers that ran through her spine as his fingers tangled in her hair; she remembered the heightened sensitivity she felt as his hand brushed against her hip in the Black Room. When he brushed his thumb against hers it caused waves of contentment to ripple through her. She was no mindless slave at the mercy of her partner's touch, but she would be a liar if she said that she did not enjoy it. Maka was no liar. Not even to herself.

More than a friend, more than a brother, but not quite a lover, her weapon was the dearest person in the world to her. Their partnership had been a simple thing, despite all the insanity and eccentricity around them. Soul was safe; with him, Maka felt at home. Their love didn't need to rattle the stars, it simply needed to be.

And there it was: she loved him. Not with the deep passion of the heroine of some Greek tragedy, but with the honest love of a girl who knew that she could happily grow old beside him.

Soul groaned from the bathroom and Maka could see in her mind his look of discontent over another wrecked toothbrush. The sound of his turning the tap echoed more violently than necessary and Maka couldn't help the small chuckle that escaped her lips. For all his idiosyncrasies, her weapon was very dear to her.

He sullenly left the bathroom with an expression that was every bit as sour as Maka expected it to be. Knowing that it would cheer him, she spoke: "I called Papa today. We've been given clearance to rent a motorcycle to make getting around easier."

As she predicted, his face split into a grin. "Cool."

"But," she added, her face a mixture of apology and admonishment, "it can't be flashy. And we have to wear helmets."

"What? Why?" His frown was uncertain. "I'm a safe driver, Maka, we've never-"

"It's not because you're unsafe, Soul." She sighed. "Though Papa did try to lecture my ears off about letting you drag me around without being safe. The helmets are to keep our faces obscured. We'll stick out less that way."

Soul looked thoughtful for a moment before sighing in reluctant agreement. "Yeah, that makes sense."

Maka's lip jutted out and her tone turned pouty. "And I'm not supposed to wear my trenchcoat anymore. It draws too much attention to us."

Soul laughed at her expression as he flopped onto her bed. She squeaked indignantly, hands flying to the netbook to keep it from bouncing off the mattress. Soul stretched out next to her, sock-covered feet hanging off the edge. Though there was space between them, Maka could still feel the warmth of his body next to hers; she fixated on it mentally, but her outward appearance was calm.

Her fingers danced along the mousepad of the laptop in time to the flow of her music. Soul could detect her light unease, but before he could say anything, she looked down at him and smiled. Though the unease remained, her music's tone warmed. He gestured lazily toward the netbook.

"What are you doin' with that, anyway?" Her glance shifted back to the screen. Various pictures of people were listed, their names linked to other pages. The previous night's date was posted under each name.

"I'm looking through the photos of missing people in the area from last night. I was hoping to see if we could find any of them who might be regulars at the Dive...Mack might have gotten to them." The warmth in her face drained as she recalled their mission. Beside her, Soul's eyes were narrowed, but she was aware that his glance was on her rather than on the screen. His soul reached gingerly out to touch hers; how was her head? Was she in pain? She sent him reassuring tones. Aside from a faint hollowness in her head that she was pretty sure was from a lack of sleep, she felt fine. Though he gave her a suspicious look, the question pressure of his soul retracted. Turning on his side, he joined Maka in perusing the missing people files.

The moment passed in relative silence, Maka tapping at the keyboard occasionally and tilting her head as she went through the pictures. From time to time, she would turn to Soul and look askance of him, but he shook his head at all of them.

Maka let the cursor hover over one of the pictures- a woman with a crooked smile and shoulder-length brown hair. There was something familiar to the cut of her face, and Maka found herself wishing that she could have used her Soul Perception. If it was the woman's soul she had been looking at, Maka would be able to know her in a heartbeat, but the meister found that she was better with souls than she was with faces. Beside her, Soul made a surprised noise. His hand laid on her arm.

"I think I recognize her," he said. Maka nodded.

"I think I've seen her before, too, but I'm not sure if it was at the Dive..." her voice trailed off uncertainly, but Soul was insistent. He extended a finger, a tip brushing at the screen.

"Where else would we have seen her, though?"

Maka's lips pursed peevishly. "I just want to be sure."

Soul rolled over onto his back, the absence of his warmth causing her to shiver suddenly. He sat, running a hand through his hair. It was still tousled from sleep, bangs falling into his eyes. "It's a good lead, at least. We can call Louie...see if he knows this 'Sukie Tawdry.' What kinda name is that, anyway?"

His meister punched him lightly in the arm. "You're one to talk, Soul Eater."

Though he growled at her, Soul's lips twitched into a smile that bared a few of his teeth. Maka found herself smiling back at him. She wondered if his smile had always been that contagious. "Hey, a cool guy like me has got to have a fitting name." He masked a glance at the alarm clock at the bedside table with a fake yawn. "We gonna rent that bike today?"

Maka nodded, pulling up another tab in her web browser. She gave the rental confirmation a quick glance. "Yeah, the place says we can pick it up at two."

Swinging his feet to gain momentum, Soul launched himself off of her bed. There was impatience in his tone. "That was thirty minutes ago, Maka. We should go."

Rolling her eyes, Maka closed the netbook. "We can pick it up any time today, Soul, we're not going to get in trouble."

"That's not the issue." This came with a withering glance sent over his shoulder as he dug in his bag for a clean pair of clothes. "The issue is that I could have been on that bike sooner if you'd woken me up earlier."

Maka stuck her tongue out, standing and tugging at the comforter of her bed, trying to straighten out the wrinkles. Though they had maid service to attend to the room, she- unlike Soul, whose bed was a nest of crumpled blankets and helter-skelter sheets- felt uncomfortable leaving her bed in a disarray when the maids came in to clean. For as long as she could recall, Maka had always been a calm sleeper. In comparison, Soul was restless, tossing and turning the whole night through. Despite that, he had always seemed rested, something that Maka had found eternally perplexing.

Soul crowed with triumph as he pulled out a clean shirt, quickly shucking the one he was wearing. He kept his face turned away from hers, not wanting to betray the satisfaction he felt the sudden leap in her music. He'd experienced a recent surge in his ability to sense her music. He was pretty certain that recent divulging of certain emotions were to blame, but he found that he didn't mind. The tune of her soul was ever-present in his mind, distant enough to not be intrusive but comforting nevertheless.

He didn't bother to change out of the jeans he'd slept in, which were the same ones he'd worn the night before. Maka gave him a leery glance but chose not to comment on it. The shirt he slept in was shoved unceremoniously back into his bag, the now questionably clean one pulled down his torso. Whirling, he flashed her a grin.

"Let's go get that bike!" The enthusiasm in his tone gave rise to a small giggle in her, but he remained unphased as he herded her out of the room. Maka barely had time to slip on her own sandals for all his nudging. He would have forgotten his own if she hadn't grabbed them and shoved them into his chest as he closed the door behind them.

"You got the stuff we need for it?"

"Yeah," she said, pulling her wallet from a pocket in her shorts. "I just need to show them my ID. I got Shibusen to pay for it electronically so I didn't need to worry about a transfer of funds or anything."

Soul arched an eyebrow as he strode through the hallway at a pace that even Maka, with her long legs, found difficult to match. Despite it all, she found his excitement rather contagious. His expression softened at her smile.

"If they've paid ahead of time, does that mean we've got a limited amount of time with it, or-"

"There'll be a payment extension if we need more time," she cut him off, sending him a falsely irate look. "I thought this through, Soul. Give me credit where credit is due."

His gait stopped suddenly just as he reached the elevator, a strange look on his face. Turning halfway, he shoved his hands in his pockets, leaned forward, and mumbled something dangerously close to her ear.

"You look pretty damn good in those shorts. Credit given."

Maka's face turned a pleasant rosy shade as she awkwardly reached for the elevator's call button.

Regardless of what had been said the previous night, Maka was almost entirely certain that Soul had found love with their rented bike. It was a work of sleek metal, painted black to be relatively inconspicuous but still stylish, even to Maka's untrained eyes. Soul drooled over the contraption for a while, talking all the while with the rental employee, words flying over Maka's head at a million miles per minute. She made a quick mental note to pick up a book on motorcycles. Despite the fact that she had little interest in them, her inner know-it-all hated being ignorant of a subject. It also wouldn't be too unhelpful if she could hold up a conversation on the topic with Soul. He was unusually animated as he talked with the attendant, his hands moving wildly to and fro. She did her best not to roll her eyes, but found herself unable to succeed.

Soul was, fortunately, too engaged in his conversation about the motorcycle to notice.

She leaned against the bike, enjoying the relatively cool temperature of the metal against her body in comparison to the heat of the sun. Though she lived in Nevada for most of the year, she had never quite gotten accustomed to being in the sun uncovered for long periods of time. Idly she wondered if she was going to develop a sunburn. She hoped that she wouldn't; the strange hollow feeling in her head was bad enough. Rubbing at her neck, she heaved a sigh.

From behind her, Soul's voice quietened. The attendant continued speaking, but after a minute he trailed off as Maka could hear footsteps behind her.

"Maka, you okay?" Soul's hand was on her shoulder. Too lazy to turn fully, she allowed her head to dip downward so that she could peer up at him upside-down. Though the blood in her head sloshed somewhat painfully, she remained in the position mostly because she found that she liked his look of bemusement.

"I'm fine, Soul. Just a little bored." She shrugged, lifting her head. Soul walked around the back wheel of the bike, coming to Maka's side with a small frown.

"You sure? Your head..."

"Is fine," she supplied, shooting him an exasperated glance. "I'm a little lightheaded, but my mental acuity is as sharp as ever. The concussion wasn't bad."

Another of the rental employees leaned out of the front door of the office, calling in the one who had been talking with Soul about the bike. He turned and gave a quick nod to the both of them; Maka and Soul both responded with a quick wave done in unison. She giggled a little at their synchronization and he shrugged.

"If you want, I can drop you back off at the room after we check in about Sukie. You can take a night off from watching over the Dive"

"Are you kidding me?" Maka's voice was as incredulous as he predicted it would be.

"Ehh, figured I'd ask," he said. "'s not my fault you're a stubborn ass that refuses to take a break sometime." He nudged her out of his way as he slid astride the motorcycle. His fingers danced lovingly on the handlebars. "She's not my baby," he said thoughtfully, "but she'll do. Especially in a pinch like this."

Maka's hands were on her hips then, mouth drawn into something caught between a scowl and a pout. "I am not a stubborn ass, Soul. I'm only doing what makes the most sense. You going by yourself wouldn't be logical, since you can't use Soul Perception."

Soul bit back an acerbic reply that her Soul Perception hadn't been of much use thus far. Instead he met her gaze evenly, patting the back of the bike's seat impatiently. Though concerned about his partner's well being, he knew that arguing wouldn't make the situation any better and he found himself wondering how the toned-down Yamaha would compare to his Harley. Soul's tastes leaned to the obnoxious when it came to bikes- he liked them loud and gaudy- but he could get behind something sleek if it went fast.

Maka slid in behind him cautiously. She was perched on the seat, music thoughtful. The bike was smaller than Soul's, narrow and with a shorter saddle. Though they had both grown in the years that they'd been riding the bike together, there was still plenty of room for the both of them, and Maka had the backrest to help support her. Since the Yamaha had none, she was going to have to wind her arms around his waist when the bike was in motion or risk falling off.

"C'mon, Maka, I wanna give the new girl a ride." Soul's tone was encouraging. She rolled her eyes at him, albeit fondly, before gently placing her hands on his shoulders. He quirked an eyebrow at her and she sighed, leaning in to wrap her arms around his torso.

"Happy?" she grumbled. He shrugged as nonchalantly as he could, though he knew that if Maka had half the mind to do so, she could feel the irregular thumping of his heart against his ribcage. Her scent had enveloped him, maddening and yet comforting, and he revved up the engine, satisfied with its smooth purr. Though it wouldn't entirely distract him, Soul knew that the dissonant wind against his face would be enough to dull his sudden uncertainty. From behind, Maka's arms tightened on his waist. She had never been fond of the first burst of speed that came from starting a motorcycle. Though she had grown accustomed to Soul's Harley after years of riding with him, the new bike left her feeling somewhat apprehensive. Her music tinkled nervously.

"We'll take the scenic route to the Dive," Soul declared to the wind as he leaned into the bike and sped off onto the road.

"Lottie is a weapon? Why didn't you tell me that before?" Maka's indigence echoed through the Dive, causing Louie, who was polishing the bar, to look up with a startled expression. The surprise soon drained back into the sadness that had recently settled into his features. His face had taken on a grey pallor that was clearly evident when he let them into the building. Smiling wearily, he had written off all concern that Soul and Maka had expressed to him.

"The topic never came up last night and I figured that I'd tell ya today. It's not like it could have helped much last night, anyway." Soul patted her shoulder. "You know now."

"If I'd known this morning maybe I'd have been able to do better research when I got the netbook," she grumbled. Soul matched her gaze challengingly.

"Then maybe you shoulda woken me up earlier."

Maka raised her hand to where his rested on her shoulder and squeezed it a little harder than necessary. Soul did his best not to wince.

"Fair enough," she said smoothly. Her hand did not leave his, however. For a moment they stood, gazes level, until both relaxed. Soul's hand fell back to his side and Maka raised hers to her neck, gently kneading at the flesh there. A small moan escaped her lips as she did so and Soul's cheeks tinged.

Clearing his throat, he shoved his hands into his pockets. "Also, your old man told me to watch out for any working girls here." Maka ceased her massaging to shoot him an angered look, but he laughed it off. "No, not like that. He said that when he was on the case, the only lead that he could find was a prostitute who...uh..." Soul trailed off, his courage fading as Maka's eyebrows traveled higher up her forehead. "...er...serviced...several of Mack's victims. He thought that she might have some sort of connection to the case. So if she's still around, we might wanna look out for her."

There was a mixed look of pleasure and disgust on Maka's face. She heaved a heavy sigh and straightened her shoulders, but her eyebrows resumed their normal position. "Well, at least Papa's womanizing ways helped him out in that situation. I don't know why he couldn't have just told us about this earlier, though. It's important information for the case."

Soul shrugged, turning towards the bar. He kept his face neutral as he spoke. "I think he felt a little uncomfortable tellin' you about it. Makes sense, too, since you tell him you hate him all the time. He'd probably want to preserve what little opinion you do have of him." Gesturing with his head, he directed Maka towards the bar. "He did say that your mom didn't like it much."

"Can you blame her?" Though Maka's tone was light, there was a hardness in the look she gave him. Soul shrugged in response and nodded curtly to Louie. The bartender smiled in response, pulling two glasses from the underside of the bar. Maka looked alarmed, but Louie raised a hand to her disapproval.

"Not gonna foist any contraband on you two. I thought I might as well give ya some of the good stuff we got in." Two bottles of an amber drink clinked onto the cabinet in explanation. "This here's my favorite cream soda in the whole world. Figured that I should share with ya."

Soul grinned, pushing at Maka's shoulder. He was careful to not be too forceful, however, concerned that he would knock her head around too much. She stuck her tongue out in a playful response, sliding gracefully onto a bar stool. Spinning to the side, she propped her feet on the adjacent seat, forcing Soul to move around to the other side. Instead of taking the one spaced away from her, he sat on the one to the left. Leaning back, she rested against his shoulder. His quiet chuckle shook her.

With the practiced grace of someone who had been doing so for years, Louie poured a bottle into each glass, the froth just barely touching the rim but not overspilling. It effervesced quickly, however, and Louie pushed a glass each in front of the meister-weapon pair without spilling a drop.

"So you two heard about Lottie, then?" There was faint amusement in his tone, but Louie's face remained neutral as he turned away, a cloth in hand. He began wiping down the shelf behind him.

Maka's fingers traced hesitantly along the rim of her glass. It was cold; she wondered if the glasses were kept in a refrigeration unit under the bar. Soul, on the other hand, took his glass and gulped heartily from it. His meister watched as the glass left his lips along with a satisfied sound. "I gotta say, Louie, you know your drinks. What did you say this stuff was?"

"Cream soda." He sounded distracted as he lifted a bottle of tequila so he could wipe under it. "I gotta say that I like it a spot more than I do most kinds of alcohol, 'specially that brand. And of course I know my drinks; it's my job."

"Speaking of," Maka leaned forward, a few tendrils of her hair falling to pool on the surface of the bar. "How did you know about Lottie? Did she tell you that she was a weapon?"

"Of course." Louie shot Maka a look over his shoulder, eyebrow arched at her untouched glass. Her posture indicated a sense of chagrin as she carefully lifted the glass to her lips. Louie returned to his cleaning. "You don't work with someone for nearly a decade without learning a thing or two about them. I've got a vague sense of Soul Perception, myself, so I knew that there was something a little special about her when we first met. It was subtle enough that I initially mistook it for attraction. Asked her out on a date, and, well..." His shoulders shook as he chuckled. "You shoulda seen the look on her face. Might as well have asked her to move to Mars or somethin'." He turned in time to see the appreciative glow in Maka's eyes as she took her first sip of the drink. "Whatcha think?"

"It's good!" Louie might have taken offense to the surprise in her tone if not for the earnestness in her smile. "Remind me to have you write down the brand. I'll see if I can't get some for us when we go back home."

Soul gave an approving nod, but his confusion was evident in his knit brow. "You didn't tell us how you found out that Lottie was a weapon, though."

"There came a night, a few years after Jenny brought Lottie in...we had a group of girls come in that sang with her. Good kids. Young, but they had a lot of promise. There was a guy who'd had a bit too much to drink and thought it'd be a good idea to grab at one of the girls when they passed. Lottie was off that stage in a heartbeat, telling the guy that they needed to talk." Louie snapped the cloth in his hands after giving one final wipedown of the shelf. He tucked it in his waist pocket and leaned against the bar. "Thought I'd follow after her, ya know...to give her backup if she needed any. Turns out she didn't." Another glass clinked onto the surface of the bar. "She had the guy pinned to the wall, telling him that he even thought about hurting those girls, she'd have his head. Lottie's a strong gal. Had one hand against the guy's shoulder and another at his throat. Though in place of the hand there was a pretty round blade, instead."

"Did Jenny know about her?" Maka asked. She took another delicate sip of her soda, contrasting her partner who'd practically drained his whole pulled two more cold bottles from under the bar, filling the third glass with one and topping off Soul's with the other.

"Yeah. When I asked her about it, she just gave me one of her glares and told me that I was gonna need to grow a spine if I wanted to work in a place like the Dive. As it turns out, Jenny got Lottie out of a tight spot some years ago and that's how she got to working here." Louie took a quick sip of his drink. "Damn, this stuff is good."

"Tight spot?" Soul asked.

"I don't know the details, myself, but from what little I do know, whatever Lottie was doing before was not exactly legal."

"So she owes Jenny?" Maka's ponderous tone was shattered by a bark of laughter from Louie. It startled her enough that she nearly dropped her glass, rocketing forward in order to try to rebalance the cup as it nearly slipped from her fingers. Without her leaning against it, Soul's shoulder felt suddenly cold. Amusement lit up Louie's features and he seemed happier than he had been since she and Soul had first came to the Dive.

"Owes her? Jenny wouldn't be able to keep this place in one piece if Lottie wasn't here. If anything, Jenny owes her." He took a deep drink of his soda, a grin pulling at his lips lopsidedly. "That lady's got talent and spunk, everything she'd need to make it big. But she stays here and keeps her nose clean. Watches out for Jenny and the rest of us. No need for a bouncer when we've got Lottie here to watch our backs."

"You could have mentioned this to us when we first came here, you know," Soul grumbled. "Maka could tell that Lottie was special, but we had no idea that she was a weapon."

"If we'd have known, we could have had another pair of eyes looking out," Maka added.

Louie's expression sobered. He straightened and rubbed a hand against his unshorn jaw. "You think she isn't already watching out? I'll let you in on a little something- Lottie always watching. You may look at her and think she's just some singer that uses shock effect to best advantage, but you'd be wrong. Lottie's sharp as a tack and ruthless in a way that you'd better hope you never see. Don't worry, Shibusen students, you're the extra pair of eyes."

Heavy silence filled the room as Maka and Louie's gazes met. Louie's warning had not fallen on deaf ears; Maka knew a thing or two about being underestimated, herself. But the bartender was going to need to learn that she wasn't going to back down. When Soul thought she wasn't looking, he stole a quick drink from her glass.

He tried to keep a straight face as she pinched him mercilessly on the leg. At the same time, Louie seemed to find whatever he was looking for in Maka's eyes. His posture relaxed somewhat and he took another sip of his soda.

Maka, on the other hand, took a piece of paper from her pocket. Details about Sukie Tawdry were scribbled hastily in Maka's messy script. Soul had long teased her for not having small, cute handwriting, but she had always asserted that it was an adaptation that allowed her to do well on tests. "Have you got a pen on you?" she asked, eyes sliding from Louie to Soul and then back. Louie shook his head, but Soul managed to dig a pen stolen from the rental agency out of his back pocket. Maka thanked him quietly and scrawled two phone numbers on a section of the paper. Ripping this off of the page, she handed it to Louie.

"Those are mine and Soul's numbers," she said solemnly. "If Lottie needs anything, tell her to call us, okay? We may be her extra pair of eyes, but together we're also another sword arm."

Soul quirked a brow. "More specifically a scythe arm, but I guess we don't need to argue about that." He finished off the last of his second glass of soda and laughed as Maka drew her own closer to her chest. Louie took the scrap of paper with a somber nod, tucking it into the front pocket of his button-down shirt. He patted it before leaning forward on the bar, an eye on the sheaf that the scrap had come from.

"So what's this?"

Maka made a motion as if to scratch the back of her head, but she stopped herself, arm hovering awkwardly above her. A light blush tinted her cheeks as her music tinkled in embarrassment. Reading this, Soul slid his hand over the paper and cleared his throat to draw Louie's attention away from his meister.

"We did some looking into recent disappearances and we found someone who looks familiar," he explained drily. "Does the name Sukie Tawdry mean anything to you?"

Louie's eyes widened in horror. "Sukie's gone missing?"

Sadness sank into Maka's features. Her jaw felt like lead as she spoke. "Unfortunately yes. I suppose that means that she's another regular here?"

Louie's gaze fell to the ground. "Yeah." His voice was clipped as he choked on his anger and grief. "She wasn't here last night, but she was never one of the nightly regulars so we didn't think much of it."

"I'm sorry," Maka murmured. The sentiment was delivered in earnest, but it seemed as if her previous news had rendered him insensate. He clutched at the bar, fingers slipping somewhat on the polish that he'd so recently rubbed into the grain. The meister shot a concerned look at her partner, but he shook his head. Soul could read her rising empathetic reaction to Louie and he slid a comforting hand down her arm, letting her grasp it with her own. They could see Louie's shaking, though neither was sure if it was a response born of his anger or of his fear. Maka let a moment of tense silence pass before she continued.

"Was she...special?" she asked softly.

"They're all special," Louie whispered, his intense gaze lifting to meet hers. "This whole place is special. Anyone who comes back has something special about their soul. They're drawn in like moths to a flame. I always figured that like comes to like, you know? It was always a good thing..." There was a plaintive note in his voice as he spoke. "This was a safe place."

"We'll do our best to make it safe again." Maka's hand squeezed at Soul's almost painfully. His face remained stoic. More words would be unnecessary in this situation, so he simply nodded resolutely when his eyes met the bartender's. There was a wildness in them that Soul found that he understood. He imagined that it was the same look he got on his face whenever something threatened the life of his meister. The look on Louie's face was one of a man who would stop it nothing to protect what little he had left.

They were in their hotel room again. After having Louie promise that he would call Lottie and deliver their numbers, Maka and Soul had left the Dive and the grieving bartender. Though he'd made a hesitant attempt to pull away, Maka would not let Soul's hand out of her grasp. They had remained clasped together until they reached the motorcycle, at which point Maka let go, albeit with a pout. Soul had found it rather cute, but their encounter with Louie was sobering enough that he didn't tease his meister. She had gripped at his waist more tightly than before as they returned to the hotel.

They took a quick detour to the store, looking for the brand of cream soda that Louie had given them. They'd found it in a specialty drink section, and Soul could hear Maka's lilting distaste at the price, but she had said nothing about it as she grabbed two four-packs from the shelf. When he inquired about her head, she had told him that she felt fine and that he didn't need to worry. He knew better than to ask her if he should help her carry the bottles.

As they carefully loaded the soda into the saddlebag, Maka had murmured, "The Dive means a lot to him." Soul had nodded, weaving the straps through their buckles.

"It means a lot to many people. But we'll get everything back to normal." He straddled the motorcycle, patting down the saddlebag one last time to ensure that it was secure. Satisfied, he crooked a finger at Maka, who sat down slowly. Her breath puffed against his neck in a sigh.

"I don't think they can be normal again."

"We'll do our best."

She'd said nothing in response, but when she wrapped her arms around his waist Maka leaned forward, resting her forehead between his shoulderblades. He listened to her melodic sadness for a moment before gunning the engine.

Though they'd stopped to get something to eat after they picked up the motorcycle, Soul found that he was hungry again as they parked in the hotel garage. When he mentioned it, Maka echoed the feeling. Her sadness had drained away at some point, leaving her music uncommonly still. Soul found it profoundly uncomfortable that he couldn't read her expression well, but he said nothing. His meister collected the bottles of cream soda from the sidebag, a small smile forming on her lips when she realized that they hadn't broken during the trip. Hands full, she gestured for Soul to lead the way so that he could hold the door open for her. Though he rolled his eyes, Soul did so.

They made a brief stop in the lobby to inform the desk attendant that their reserved parking space would be housing a motorcycle for the rest of their stay. Taking it well into stride, he gave them a tag on a stretchy band and told them to put it on the handlebar the next time they brought it into the lot.

When they arrived back at the room, Maka beelined for the fridge, putting the sodas in and withdrawing a couple pre-packaged dinners. She tossed one at Soul, which he had to scramble to catch. He shot a glare at her, but when he noticed that it was Salisbury steak, he grinned. His meister knew what he liked, though her delivery could use some work.

She had sat at the edge of her bed, her own tv dinner deposited on the bedside table. She fiddled with the ends of her hair, fingers flexing irritably. Soul could read the edges of distress in her music, though he couldn't determine what it was about. He tossed his own meal in the microwave before approaching his meister.

"What's the matter?"

Maka looked up into his face, her music flaring with a startled crescendo. She opened her mouth to deny that anything was wrong, but the look that Soul shot her sealed her lips shut. Her fingers continued to fiddle with ends of her hair. Heaving a sigh, Soul flopped onto the bed beside her. Though he laid down, she continued to sit.

"I can't pull my hair back," she muttered quietly, "and it keeps getting in my face and it's just really distracting to have it down like this."

"Why can't you- oh." Soul's confusion was cut short as he remembered the location of her head wound. He reached out and gingerly placed his fingers on the back of her scalp. He could feel the damaged skin through her hair, but her music didn't project the banged-keys sound of her pain. "Maybe you could braid it?"

Maka's face was turned away from him, so he couldn't see the blush that crept into her cheeks. He could, however, hear the embarrassment in her tune. "I never learned how. Papa always liked to put my hair in pigtails. Mama kept her hair in a long braid, but she never taught me how to do it..."

"I figured that Liz 'n' Patti would have taught you at some point, though." He let his fingers thread through the ashy strands. Maka's hair was thin, but it was silky-soft and he found himself wishing that he could lean forward to breathe in her scent.

"Patti always wanted to play with Tsubaki's hair, not mine. Liz tried to give me hair advice once and I...uh...kinda bit her head off. She's not mentioned my hair since."

Soul chuckled. "You can be pretty scary. If you bit her head off, I don't blame her for never bringing it up again." He gave a very light tug to a side strand of her hair, careful to not irritate the injured part of her scalp. "Do you have a hairband?"

Maka peered at him over her shoulder, eyebrows drawn together in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"Hairband, moron, do you have one?"

Maka nodded, still looking baffled, and leaned over to grab a hair tie from the bedside table. He took it from her as he sat up, positioning himself behind her. From the other side of the room, the microwave beeped loudly, signifying that Soul's meal was done. Maka tried to get up to take it out, but Soul put a hand on her shoulder.

"Just wait a minute."

She frowned peevishly. "What are you going to do, anyway?"

He tugged a little less gently. "Braid your hair. So hold still."

Maka could feel Soul hovering behind her, fingers picking at her hair thoughtfully. "How do you even know how to braid, anyway?"

"Would you believe me if I told you I was a boy scout?" he teased absently. She shivered when his fingers brushed lightly against the nape of her neck as he separated her hair. Soul felt smug as he realized that her surprised tinkle of notes had been a reaction of pleasure. He was careful to repeat the same 'accidental' brush on the other side and was gratified with another shiver.

The tone of her response harshly contrasted the pleased hum in her soul. "Not even for a moment."

Soul laughed raucously. "Good call." His fingers were gentle as he started to plait his meister's hair, keeping the weave loose so that it wouldn't strain her scalp. Nevertheless, he kept a careful focus on that hum, watching for any sign of her banged-keys pain.

"I like to think that I know you pretty well."

"You do," he assured. "Better than anyone." A comfortable silence settled over the room. Maka didn't have much hair to work with, so Soul took his time, enjoying the feeling of her hair under his fingers. Her pleasure was underlined with confusion, however, and Soul felt it through her music with a level of embarrassment. As he twined another thread of hair, he twined his soul with hers.

I used to braid my mother's hair when I was young. He accompanied the statement with a few images of his mother's long hair cascading down her back. When he was little, he'd always looked at it with wonder and wanted to run his fingers through it. She'd taught him how to braid it as an effort to keep him occupied, but he'd loved doing it. The chestnut brown hair had slid through his fingers like silk. They were precious moments for him- no need for piano playing or proving himself.

Maka sent him an appreciative hum. He was always rather tight-lipped about his family, and Maka hadn't wanted to pry. She let the admission that she'd always wondered what his mother looked like flow through their still-forming link.

Soul sent her a stream of his family's images- his mother with her olive skin and dark hair and the red eyes that both he and his brother had inherited, his father with the snowy hair and frigid blue eyes. They'd been elemental to him, dark and light, fire and ice. Wes was a better blend of the two of them, filled with austerity and passion and cold, hard talent. Soul had always felt closer to his grandmother, with her silvered hair and blue eyes like faded denim. She was a stubborn lady, even in her old age, and he had loved her most.

Maka's end of the link was filled with quiet thoughtfulness as she processed the information she was given. It was unusual of him to be so forward, but she supposed that their conversation from the previous night was grounds for a changing of approach. She considered this, fingers playing with the cuffed ends of her shorts. Maka could sense the delicate care with which Soul was treating her- not only her hair, but also with her. He was afraid to cross boundaries, to push things too far. Maka understood the fear; it was one that she also shared. But she knew that this stasis was something that they were going to need to upset at some point, and if he wasn't going to do it...

Soul could sense the lurking idea in Maka's brain. Their resonance was shallow, both of them too much in their own heads to be in a state of perfect sharing, but Soul knew that his meister was plotting something. Her anger hadn't spiked at all, so he knew he wasn't about to get Chopped. Binding off the tail end of Maka's hair, he tried to prepare himself for whatever his meister was about to pull.

He was distantly aware that he botched the preparation as his meister's lips crashed against his.

I'm hoping that I'll be able to get the next chapter out within a week, but no promises. The good news is that after this chapter, I am halfway through Affinity, excluding an epilogue that may or may not be written. Also there's a chance for a TsuStar partner fic that is in the Affinity universe, so if you're interested in seeing that, you should totally let me know so I can see where I need to prioritize it in my list of writing projects. :)