There was a distinctive difference between Maka and Soul when they entered Death's office, much like being brought up in front of the class. Maka was full to the brim with excitement, toes wiggling in her shoes with that ready for action smile. Soul was, well, the opposite with hands jammed in his pockets and a thin, expressionless line to his lips, at least for the moment.

"Big opportunity, you two!" Death chimed exuberantly. "Apparently, Eibon's been looking for a fresh new look and has agreed to take proposals."

Maka risked a glance at Soul and instantly knew the dialogue in his brain: 'Who's Eibon?' She resisted the sigh.

"So, of course, I'm putting my star team on this possibility. He's a tough guy to impress, definitely on the strange side, but I think the two of you have what it takes." Death added a little of a flourish, sending Maka just about over the moon while Soul stayed his cool, level self.

"We won't let you down, sir," Maka chimed.

Soul only added a nod to this until he got Maka shuffled out of the room. "We won't let you down, sir!" he mimicked as he flicked her ear.

"Hey," she gasped as she grabbed at the sensitive lobe before using that hand to firmly push his chest.

Soul deflected the hit with a chuckle, "You couldn't sound more like a girl scout if you tried."

"It's called politeness, you should try it," she rolled her eyes. "And at least I know who Eibon is." She raised her eyebrows challengingly as they settled at their desks.

"Who said I didn't?" Soul grumbled.

"Your glazed over eyes during the meeting, that's who," Maka was quick to grin. While she could have spent an eternity cycling through the playful banter with him, Maka set to work, opening tab after tab on research on the eccentric author. "He's kind of a jack of all trades, sometimes an inventor, an author, a researcher, but he never actually shows his face."

"Weird," Soul mumbled as he haphazardly clicked through some of the links she almost instantly emailed him. "So, obviously personal imagery is out. You know, it's weird to just want to start over."

"What?" Maka dipped her head from the computer screen.

"He had a team, right?" Soul shrugged. "You usually stick with stuff like that."

"Could have gotten stale, or maybe the team wanted out." Maka's suggestions were only half-hearted because she was almost singularly focused on the way his face was working, that slow, detailed progression through facts she'd seen in him. "What are you thinking?"

"Has to be a good reason," Soul murmured as he opened a few more tabs. "Just… let me think."

Maka pulled back, letting him furrow his brows without interruption. Instead, she let herself enjoy the way he worked, his intent and thoughtfulness. Even though there was work at hand she could feel her mind slipping away from it, tumbling down the list of things that he was made up of. Everything about him seemed to be a juxtaposition, the way he could be so apathetic highlighting that other side that seemed to swell with emotion. She hadn't been able to get that crying spell out of her head, and, of course, he hadn't breathed a word about it since, but he wasn't operating as if something strange had happened between the two of them. It was acknowledged in the moment and nothing more, no awkwardness necessary.

While she didn't want him wracked with tears again, she was, in some odd way, looking forward to the next time he let that mask slip and let her in another step. Because I like it. I like being something he can rely on because we're always even, so I'm not afraid about whether or not he'll let me lean on him.

"Do I have something on my face?" he grumbled, breaking her from the spell.

"No," Maka let out a breathy laugh, "but you should probably shave soon. You've got whiskers."

"Do not," he frowned. "I can't grow facial hair for shit."

"Language," she cooed.

That brought him back to his work with a series of low curses, letting her get away with another few minutes of uninterrupted staring.

Soul wasn't shoveling pizza into his mouth like normal and Black Star finally decided to call it. "What's your problem?"

"Nothin'," Soul half-heartedly took another bite.

"Convincing," Black Star grunted. "How's the fam?"

"Fine," Soul shrugged. "Marie told me to remind you it's three months to Shelley's birthday."

"Like I need that much time," Black Star scoffed. "I already got her present."

"She said we can do it in the park if you want." Soul pushed the plate forward, the conversation not exactly adding to his appetite.

"Yeah, like usual." That came with a sigh and a mirror of Soul's movements, the idea of food not exactly meshing with the mire.

Soul ran a shaky hand through his hair, "Seriously, between you and me we could scrape together the cash. It's not a big deal."

Black Star rolled his eyes as his tongue snapped against the roof of his mouth, "You think the cash is the problem? I've got no reason to go, and this shady-ass deal you have going with the boss, you think it's not going to implode? She charges you-"

"It's just money," Soul spat. "And what other choice do I have? I can't play dead, I don't have a Marie."

"Dunno about that," a slow smirk spread Black Star's lips that fed a skepticism on Soul's face.

"I mean, we're close, but I don't think Marie wants another dead man in her house," Soul offered the best answer he could but his eyebrows furrowed as that only seemed to strengthen Black Star's grin. "What?"

"Nothin'," Black Star tried to wipe the grin away but he couldn't help it. "How're things with the bane of your existence?"

Soul's face turned a particular shade of pink that quadrupled Black Star's amusement, "Better, I mean, she definitely, I don't know…" Black Star raised his eyebrows, letting the words clutter on Soul's tongue without interruption. Soul pressed his hands to his knees to alleviate the sweat that was already starting in his palms. "Look, I need you to talk me out of it."

"It?" Black Star cooed playfully.

"She's…" Soul sighed, resisting the urge to let her actually come to the forefront of his mind since thinking about her smile might ruin any momentum. "Maka's getting too close, I'm letting her get too close and I need you to fucking snap me out of it."

Black Star balked, "Why?"

"Why?" Soul honestly didn't know where to start, whether it was tearing himself down or the lifestyle it was all just one strike after another. All he could do was motion vaguely, his open palms shaking between them.

"You're fucking hopeless," Black Star cackled. "You wanted out so you could have a life, isn't dating a part of having a life? And not just a life, but a family, right? Do I have to explain the birds and bees to you?"

"No," Soul croaked, "but she… it's a waste of fucking time."

"You're a waste of fucking time is what you're saying." Black Star huffed as he put his hands behind his head, leaning back and so his legs could comfortably slap on top of the coffee table. "You ask her about it?"

"About us? Are you insane?" Soul practically squealed.

"Why is that insane?" He sighed as he looked over Soul's panicking face again. "You didn't give her a 'what if' or something?"

"A 'what if'?"

"Yeah, like, 'what if I kissed you right now?'"

"I'd punch you in the face," Soul grumbled as he let his hands run through his hair even though there was no comfort in it.

Black Star let out a sharp laugh, slapping a hand to Soul's back. "You think she'd punch you in the face?"

"I don't know," he whispered miserably especially as the movie played across his head. They'd gotten into this habit of going to bed at the same time, something he'd excused with synced clocks from living together, and it started to feel like he was dropping her off at her door each night. She'd say 'good night' and give him one last little touch, maybe his arm, maybe his hand and then disappear in her room. He could easily add onto that, putting a soft hand to her cheek and leaning in to just feather his lips across hers. She'd taste sweet with a hint of mint from brushing her teeth. Somehow he knew that and it made every last nerve in his gut fire.

"I know you want a 'bro, bad idea' but I'm not going to give it to you. I like her. She doesn't take shit."

"She also doesn't know shit," Soul sighed. "What happens when I tell her what I've done? What's probably still part of me?"

"Gonna go out on a limb and say she's going to react the same way she did with the tattoos." Black Star patted harshly at his back again. "And, really, what's your plan otherwise?"

"What do you mean?" Soul turned his head, eyebrows furrowing at Black Star.

"You sit on it. You don't make a move. What's to stop her from getting with someone else? What are you going to do when she brings a guy home?"

Any of that warmth from the daydream was gone, the stabbing icy needles of jealousy instantly tearing at his heart.

"Oof, that's a face," Black Star grunted a laugh. "See? If you want her all to yourself you have to make the moves. She's free otherwise. Just because she lives with you as a roommate, is your partner at work, whatever, doesn't mean shit. Even if she loves you, radio static on your end is only going to lead to some kind of misunderstanding."

Soul sat back hoping that Black Star wasn't a prophet.

Maka unlocked the door and almost let herself back out, completely sure she was in the wrong apartment. She'd heard it in on the walk up but hadn't put two and two together until she was in their hallway, piano music buzzing all around her. It was a conscious effort on her part to sneak the rest of the way to the living room, fingers and toes crossed that he wouldn't spook. He hadn't played since that initial day and Maka had spent many moments staring at the piano and seeing him there, so gone. There was no better way to describe it like everything fell away from him and Soul was allowed to be just himself. Maybe one day when she had the courage she'd ask him if he really felt free in those moments.

She managed to get into the living room a few steps, a smile starting to glow on her lips before he abruptly stopped and turned that white mop towards her. "Sorry."

"You apologize for the stupidest stuff," she huffed. "Keep going."

"Nah," he pressed one key before letting his fingers fall to his lap and whispered towards them, "Maybe I'm done thinking for right now."

Maka's feet continued forward to bring her to what she really wanted, close enough so that she could put her hand on his shoulder. "You only play when you're thinking?"

He turned his head and his eyes first met her fingers before climbing up her arm to her face. "Clears my head."

"What are you clearing?" she murmured.

Soul shrugged helplessly, his eyes still burning up at her. "You busy tonight?"

Maka laughed softly, "Um, I was planning on finishing my book but I think that can be rescheduled."

"Of course you were," he chuckled.

"Hey, I don't have to go out," she threatened.

"No, but…" His hand slipped over hers and Maka was sure she'd never breathe again. Her touching was one thing, but him reaching for her was absurd. "There's a bar I go to sometimes. Will you go with me?"

That was a secondary fluster, an invitation rather than some begrudging admission that there was something to do. "You mean there's a place you can show your face?"

"Yeah," she expected a laugh but it sounded weak and breathless instead. "So come with me."

"OK." Maka let her eyes linger to their connected hands and it was as if he just realized he'd done it, stealing his hand away quickly before standing and detaching from her.

"I, uh, you look fine," he stuttered through it.

"Thank you? So I don't have to change..." Maka narrowed her eyes. "Are we going now?"

"Sure," but he sounded the opposite.

Maka took a hesitant step back. "I'll just grab my bag."

"You don't have to," he blurted. "I invited you, so it should be my treat."

Her chest fluttered alive. Is this a date? She quickly squashed the idea but her cheeks didn't listen, lighting up as she turned away from him. "I still need my stuff." Maka rushed to her room, spouting 'may-days' with each step. He just asked me out. No, absolutely not. That's not what it is. He's my friend, he's not doing anything, I'm not doing anything, so we're going for a drink. So, no, absolutely not. But she could still feel his fingers over top of hers as those piercing eyes stared up at her. It can't be a date, because if it is, I'm doomed.

Maka talked herself into grabbing her bag, seeing him kicking rocks in the hallway with his hands jammed in his pockets. "Ready?"

"Ready," she echoed.

"Let's go." Soul reached for her and Maka let herself move into his grasp, that gentle but purposeful hand coming to her elbow to lead her out. On the streets, in the dark, he walked even closer, and even though the night was warm she was sure it was the heat radiating off of his body that she was feeling. The difference was the tentative nature of his touches, the leading that felt more like following and that idea squealed in her head again. Is he this nervous because it is a date? I told myself no, I told myself not this but… She threw her head over her shoulder, catching that projected blankness on his face.

"Is this your favorite spot?" She held her breath, hoping he'd actually latch on to idle conversation just to keep her mind from the nagging question.

"Guess so," he shrugged as he tapped her to the left. "Like you said, don't have many places to go, so it makes the top of the list by default."

She had one last-ditch effort since the last question looked like it wasn't going to produce. "What's the rules?"

"Same as always," he seemed to dip closer if that was even possible since walking with his chest that close to her back should have been impossible. "I probably won't have to run you out so we can stay as long as you'd like. Only person who ever shows up is Kilik and that's for pleasure, never for business."

"I'm going to guess it's not dancing," Maka managed a grin and was rewarded with one in turn.

"I don't think I'm going to let that part slip," he murmured. "Let you see for yourself."

"As long as it's not some alleyway to murder me," she laughed, but his wasn't really a laugh in return, dry and breathless, leaving her hating the joke. Was that too close? He never said what he's done but there's no way he's actually hurt someone that badly, right?

That left them in complete silence that Maka had no choice but to dwell in. Maka wished for the relief of a subway trip but it was just walking, finally slowing at a staircase leading downwards, a glowing sign saying "'Round Midnight." "Named for a song," Soul explained as if reading her mind.

"What kind of song?" Maka blinked at him before he tapped her forward.

"The best kind." Whatever had tarnished his grin before was gone as he opened the door for her, scooting her into a low lit, humming room. The music wasn't necessarily loud, though the club was small and the stage seemed like it ate up half the room, but the brass trembled through her as a saxophone ate up all the attention in the room. Maka could see why it was safe, the clientele mostly aged or too painfully hip to be part of whatever type of organization Soul had only touched on. He brought her to the bar, beautiful deep mahogany with all the right kind of wear and tear to give it character.

The bartender was quick to amble over with an easy smile that Maka found contagious. "Soul, good to see you, man."

"Clay," Soul nodded. "This is Maka."

"Maka, nice to meet you," Clay chirped happily. "What'll ya have?"

"A gin and tonic, please," Maka tried to echo his cheerfulness, and Clay ate it up. Before he even started on her drink, Clay put a glass in front of Soul, filling it with soda from the well and popping in a twist of lime. Maka watched it as her fingers subconsciously crept to his arm, touching softly to bring his attention away from the stage. "You're not drinking."

"Mostly don't, especially not when I'm out," he muttered.

"Should I not be drinking?" It's probably another rule which honestly sounds like zero fun.

"Nah," he chuckled softly. "Enjoy yourself. Maybe not a necessary rule but a good one is to always have at least one person sober. One clear head is better than none. Plus, I'm not exactly the nicest drunk."

"You're always nice," she tried to murmur playfully but those moments came to her mind, that coldness that slipped into him and she wondered what it was like amplified.

"Mostly always sober," he sighed as he looked back at the stage.

That quiet bled in again as the only voice she got was Clay's who let simple conversation drift between checking on the rest of the bar. Soul was intent on the stage, watching with an interest that could definitely rival his job. See, not a date. He's tuned in and you're tuned out. You may as well be any other person. That thought brought a surprising ache and she finally pulled her hand away from his arm, prompting him to look at her.

"You good? Not your kind of music, huh?"

"Could you…" She sighed before letting her fingers run through the ends of her hair. "Will you just talk to me about it? I don't think I exactly get it."

Soul blinked at her as his eyebrows furrowed. "What's to get?"

Dummy, I just want you to talk. I don't want you to face away from me and-

"Sit on this side," he ordered.

Maka was barely snapped out of her thoughts, "Why?"

"So I can watch and explain at the same time."

She eased out of her seat and as soon as she was on her feet his hand was on her arm, guiding her as if she needed the directions to the seat on the other side of him. As soon as she was sitting he was leaning close again, his head hovering right over her shoulder. That hand on her arm never left, fingers tentatively set against her skin as his low, husky whisper started a stream in her ear. Maka could never imagine he could talk as endlessly as this, breaking down every detail of the band as he dictated everything to her down to the note. As he spoke his hand became more purposeful and his thumb eventually eased into a slow glide against her skin that seemed to punctuate every sentence.

When he lost momentum, Maka turned her head, catching his eyes on her rather than the stage. "So you can actually gush about something."

"The right something, sure." His smirk caught her off guard, not prepared for it that close and with the added sensation of him slipping back and resting in the chair rather than next to her. "Can I ask you something?"

"Of course," Maka smiled but her stomach slipped unsteadily from beneath her. His eyes were boring into her and his words wouldn't seem to come to him, his mouth just frozen in a grimace. The silence was crawling up her spine and she couldn't stop the millions of questions that her mind created for him from crowding her brain.

"Hey, Soul," Clay was finally back on one of his revolutions, leaning across the counter towards him. "Want the news?"

This washed over him, rinsing away that nervous petrification and freeing him to raise an eyebrow at Clay. "Something actually happening?"

"Akane's over in Noah territory today. Apparently they're clashing with Mosquito on some bullshit. Don't head past Lost Island any time soon." Maka couldn't help but lean in as well, trying to take in the information. 'Noah' she could recognize but now another name, 'Mosquito' which definitely brought a look of disdain to Soul's face.

"Akane shouldn't be over there then," Soul grumbled, "unless he wants Mosquito to give him another hole."

Clay chuckled, "Akane usually has better luck than you."

Soul rolled his eyes, "Listen, he got the better of me once, let me live it down." Soul dared a glance at Maka and she watched his jaw set as soon as he read the interest in her face. "That's enough for tonight, Clay."

Clay raised an eyebrow, "You sure? There's something brewing with Medusa, too, if you're interested."

"Not interested in that shit anymore," he muttered but that didn't seem to convince Clay who hovered. "You've got customers waiting."

"Sure," Clay nodded but the skepticism was still in his eyes. He set one glance to Maka before walking back down to the other end of the bar.

"I thought you said this place was safe," Maka murmured.

"It is," Soul jutted his chin towards Clay. "They're not on a side. Just traffic in information."

His lips were tight around each word, barely letting them go so Maka had no choice but to let him stay quiet on what technically wasn't her business anyway. "You were going to ask me something."

That didn't loosen him at all, instead sending his eyes to his empty soda. "You ready to leave?"

Maka knew that was entirely wrong, whatever he was feeling or thinking at that moment completely annihilated by the exchange with Clay. "If you are," she whispered back and found it catapulting him from his seat. It wasn't an anxious exit as their entrance had been but instead, a strange veil of anger had seemed to come over him and Maka couldn't unravel it even with his quiet the entire walk home. That silence prevailed all the way to the apartment, Soul practically slamming the front door to push past her towards his room.

You can't let him get away, the urgent thought crushed everything else in her mind. "Soul, stop."

His feet froze and his hand flattened against the wall as if he needed it to stand.

"You were trying to be someone else again tonight," she accused. "I told you, it doesn't matter, tattoos or not, or Mosquito, or Medusa, all of it-"

"Matters," he yelled back at her as he turned. "You're so interested, so let me tell you." Maka took a step back but it didn't matter because he was on her in a few steps, grabbing her hand and sinking it under his shirt. "Feel that? That's Mosquito's work, stabbed me fucking good." There was a knot of skin under her fingers and he pressed her hand tighter to it. "And your cute little head thinks 'poor Soul' because maybe I didn't have it coming, but I did. Do you know how many of his men I tortured? I have two assault charges, but that's just what the cops know. I don't have enough fingers and toes for the real number."

Maka clenched at his skin, her nails raking the sensitive skin and making him hiss and release her. "My cute little head isn't thinking anything like that. It's wondering what the hell you're trying to do, Soul. Do you want me to be scared? I'm scared," she urged. "But do you want me to hate you? Because I can't."

"And why the hell not?" All of that strength, the tight yelling was gone from his voice, leaving that sentence as more of a weak begging.

"Because maybe that's part of you, but it's not all of you. Most of you is…" Maka was at a loss for the right word. He was far from perfect, that was obvious just from this moment, but something about all the broken pieces that came together to make him seemed that way to her. "Is just not that, Soul." She used the hand that had slipped from his grasp to press at his chest. "So stop trying to force me to see it that way because I won't."

"Until I hurt you." It wasn't a threat but a woeful whisper as his hand came to force hers from his chest. He added a step back, giving her no hope of another touch unless she dared to close the space.

"You don't hurt your friends," she shook her head. "You can't tell me that you think you're capable of that."

He closed his eyes with a slow breath before shaking his head wordlessly.

Maka mirrored him, taking her time with her air before wrapping her arms around herself to resist the urge to grab him. "I want you to stop assuming I'm some naive little girl."

"What?" His eyes popped open, daring to look at her face.

"I know I can't know everything," she gripped herself tighter, "but when I do find out things, which is going to happen, stop trying to save me from it. You are what you are. I've already made that decision. Don't expect me to question it every time I hear something new."

"You shouldn't be so nosey," he murmured breathlessly.

"I told you, it's not nosey when we're friends." She tried on a smile, "And when we go out again, Clay or Kim or any of your other friends are probably going to slip up again since you didn't seem to tell them to keep me out of the equation."

That derailed him even more, a hand coming to the back of his head. "You want to go out again?"

Not the worst date I've ever been on. The thought brought a blush to her cheeks, coloring the actual words she let out. "It wasn't a bad time, especially when you were glowing about the music."

"Glowing," he grunted.

"So give up, Soul," she murmured. "I'm… I'm asking you to let what happens happen. Don't fight it anymore, please." Don't try to fight me when all I want is to be close.