Guys! I definitely have momentum on this one again and I really think I have an ending in sight (keep your fingers crossed for me). Of course, I already have a new AU kicking around in my head so stay tuned - I might try to force myself to finish this one before starting a new one.

The way Soul was kissing her felt desperate, but as Maka's mind mulled it over that didn't exactly seem like the right word. Needy, no. Frantic, maybe a little. Intense, definitely, especially as his hands clasped into her hair, pulling her head back so he could greedily feast on the flesh of her neck. It had started as soon as she set foot in the door of their room after the tense but overall not disastrous dessert and chatting. To be completely honest, Maka almost felt a little triumphant as she watched Catherine avoid them for the rest of the night. And now, the best reward of all was Soul's very concentrated attention. Maybe mauling was the word she was looking for.

"Slow down," Maka murmured.

"Why?" Soul hissed out against her neck as one of his hands started to gather up the fabric of her dress on its way up her thigh.

Maka giggled at the ceiling, "Because I'm drunk and if we don't get to the bed soon I'm afraid I'm going to topple us both."

He grunted a reply before halting the travel of his hand, instead redirecting to bring that strong arm around her waist and walked her back towards the bed. At the last minute, he turned her, bringing his back to the bed so at least when they fell it was Maka who crushed him, a small blessing as far as she was concerned. It was really a selfish motive since as soon as gravity no longer mattered, Soul's hands were back at the hem of her dress, pulling it up and over her head.

"Still rushing," she chided.

"Just trying to get to the best parts," he grumbled back as he tossed the dress aside.

"Soul…" Maka pressed a hand to his neck, just keeping his lips at bay long enough to get him to open his eyes, those scarlet orbs blinking up at her. "You don't have anything to prove."

"Who said I was?"

Maka raised her eyebrows playfully.

He sucked his teeth followed by a sigh. "OK, alright. Slow. I got it."

"Because honestly," she sighed sweetly before just brushing her lips against his, "You're forgetting my favorite part."

His hands slowed and the way that his eyes keenly focused on her was as if she were about to tell the secret of the ages and it amused her to no end. "What's that?"

"Your cute little chatter," she laughed which was only strengthened by the narrowing of his eyebrows.

"I don't chatter," he huffed.

Maka let her fingers ripple down the front of his shirt. "Only here, but you definitely do."

Soul sighed before moving to kiss along her jaw, letting his lips get close enough to her ear so that he could murmur, "It's because this is the best time to let out all those thoughts I can't share during the day. When I see you just for a second, or we're in front of my idiot mother, I can't, but now I can. You deserve to know how much I think about you."

Maka grinned and let her head dip to his shoulder. "See? Romantic."

A deep breath eased from his throat before his hands, that before had been so needy and rough, moved to wrap around her and pull her tightly to him. "I'm sorry."

"Sorry?" Maka would try to get a look at those ruby eyes but he was pulling her too close and there was never any fighting that grip.

"I freaked out tonight," he muttered and let it feed into another slow exhale. "And, yeah, I'm a little pushy right now. Been letting that one-track-mind run for the past hour about how you deserve better."

"Soul-"

"Which is why you should just let me hold you for a second and chatter," he laughed as he nuzzled into her hair. "I loved catching you laughing tonight. You're always beautiful but when you're laughing it's something else, the way your eyes shine almost as much as your smile." Soul cheated, taking a second to kiss back at her shoulder again, not exactly needing time to formulate the next words since these always came easily to him but still being slightly caught up in her skin. "And I love how you can do that, smile and laugh, even around all this shit. I'm hoping it's because… because you've found your place here, with me, with Wes and Lizzie. Maybe it's impossible, but I hope you don't feel lonely anymore."

Maka sighed as she finally wriggled enough out of his grip to come nose to nose. "Do you feel lonely?"

He huffed, "I asked you first."

"You didn't technically ask anything," she cooed right back.

"I feel…" he tried to frown, displeased at the idea he was giving in so easily but knowing he had completely no choice. "I guess it's like I don't wonder when I'm going to be happy again. I just get to be because you're either just a glance away or just a few hours away from being that close. Loneliness isn't even something I think about anymore."

Maka started giggling against his lips, "I really just wanted to hear you say the most hopelessly romantic thing before I offered a simple answer."

"Hey," he grumbled.

"And you never disappoint." She broke her grin by pressing her lips to his.

"Maka," he groaned against her lips. "Answer my not question."

"I feel…" she copied with a bit of a laugh that trickled into a breathless kind of gasp. "Soul, I… Wes and Lizzie have been wonderful and I do feel like we're a family but your mother still obviously hates me."

"I told you once, parental approval means jackshit," Soul urged as his hands grasped tighter at her waist. "And tonight, she was just… I don't think she's happy about Wes and Lizzie just as much as she's not happy about you and me, so it was bound to come out in what she considered the most acceptable place, the two that weren't getting married."

"Even though she thought we were engaged," Maka sighed.

"Yeah." Soul tried to temper the goofy little smile that came to his lips especially as her eyebrows furrowed.

"You liked that," Maka accused, her finger poking in his ribs. "You enjoyed it a little."

"Well, until we got the part about me being heartless, sure," he again tried to grumble but it still bordered too much on feeling good.

"Soul," she huffed.

"I know, I know, I'm sorry," he sighed. "It's just… you didn't say it wasn't going to happen, and that line, the one about you being a woman, me being a man, it was kind of, I don't know, feisty."

Maka crumbled into laughter as she ducked her head to his chest. "I kind of stole that from a book," she murmured into the fabric of his shirt.

"The whole thing?"

She turned her head so her cheek rested against his chest. "From Pride and Prejudice, when Darcy's aunt comes to Elizabeth to make sure she's not engaged to Darcy. 'He is a gentleman, I am a gentleman's daughter…' so close enough."

"But she didn't say never?" Soul was rarely interested in one of her old-timey romance novels in the guise of classical literature but finding this one hitting too close.

"Just the same thing I did, that they weren't, but that she would give no guarantee that it wouldn't happen." Maka expelled a beautifully warm laugh against the fabric of his shirt. "That little outburst is what gave Darcy the guts to ask her to marry him again. 'I knew enough of your disposition to be certain that, had you been absolutely, irrevocably decided against me, you would have acknowledged it…'"

"He asked her before and she said no?" He felt breathless asking the question.

"Flat out refused him, mostly because he kind of insulted her while proposing, so…" Maka wiggled against him, probably producing something close to a shrug.

"And tonight, you didn't say never," he hopelessly reminded, feeling that little knot in his gut again.

"I didn't say never," she echoed and sighed softly. Because I can't say never. The more I think about it, the more I… "I told you I was thinking about it, just like you asked."

His hand brushed through her hair, "Thanks. I appreciate that."

"That almost sounds sarcastic," she grumbled.

"It's not," he let his fingers drift through her tresses again, pulling the calm from the motion. "And I know I'm being a little ridiculous. Not even a year together and I'm… ridiculous," came out breathlessly.

The words trickled from her lips without much of a second thought, "You're just like your brother."

That strangled him, a sharp cough coming from his throat at the thought. "I guess. And I guess that's fine as long as…" Another little choke came from his mouth but this one warbled into a squeaking sigh.

"As long as what?" Maka raised her head, eyebrows raised at him.

"I get to be just as happy," he murmured back, damning the implications as he ran his fingers through her hair again. He watched the logical line of thought play out over her face, the way the blush lit up her cheeks. "Maybe it is ridiculous, but I know I do love you. That's all I'm sure about sometimes."

"I love you, too." Maybe it was the leftovers from the champagne or the way his eyes were taking in every inch of her face but Maka felt the tears stinging at her eyes. I'd never be able to say no. Maybe wait, maybe someday, but never no.

"I think I chattered enough, huh?" He pressed a soft kiss to her lips as he tried to ease her back to before, but even with the thoughtful touches, neither of their minds could come to the moment at hand.

It's just me rushing, being ridiculous because I'm afraid to lose what I have even though it's not going anywhere, slid through his mind.

Everyone's infected with the marriage bug, that's all. It's just thoughts, decisions, not daydreams and hopes. Maka found herself clinging to him almost as much as the thoughts. But then why am I afraid? Why do I worry he'll change his mind?

Soul didn't feel well-rested but the excitement of the day left him with no choice but to soldier onward. Somehow Wes didn't seem the least bit nervous, even able to fix his own cufflinks without issue, something Soul couldn't even do on a regular day. In the end, it seemed like he was the world's worst Best Man, just following Wes around like a dog looking for a lost bone.

Maka was only fairing better on the helpful side of things, tending to every last need and necessity before Lizzie could even ask for it. It was a way to fill her mind, to keep it from churning over the ups and downs of the night before. Maka couldn't afford the emotionality especially not with the delicate arrangement of make-up on her face. She had to be strong, steady, ready to be a bridesmaid, and face whatever special wrath Catherine had for this day as well.

A special kind of relief welled up in Maka's chest as she watched Catherine go down the aisle first, the wedding planner thankfully destroying any opportunity for meddling in the entryway. It was their line-up next, Elena chomping at the bit to be gone from Chase while Shinji was already offering pleasant quips about the show. Maka tried to smile, to laugh, but her eyes were still searching for Soul for no particular reason other than for those red eyes to send her back into balance and great some normalcy. Instead, she was pushed along by the planner and out into the aisle.

Maka had to believe that there was some kind of flower placing robot because the intricacy and ubiquitousness of arrangement seemed impossible for human hands. Everything was glowing white as if it weren't high summer and a snowstorm had taken over the inside of the hall. The only color added came from the stained glass windows, dazzling certain spots with a rainbow of hues. The beauty of it was dizzying and Maka tried to hold onto that, tried to make it set the stage of the day.

Shinji delicately dropped her off at the bride's side of the stage, leaving Maka sandwiched between Elena and Flore. It gave her some semblance of security, the feeling of two shoulders against hers and she found herself softly touching hands with each, sharing reassuring glances before bringing her eyes back to the end of the aisle. Soul appeared with Susanna, looking every bit as nervous as a groom should. Even in the face of all that, Maka could only feel relief in the fact that they existed in the same space again.

With that comfort came a glowing smile, a thing that Soul was always instantly drawn towards, and as soon as he set eyes on his one the rest seemed to melt away. Her courage was always contagious and Soul found himself forgetting the forlorn act as he brought his future sister-in-law to the altar. He threw one glance at Maka, giving her the best smirk he could manage before taking his place on the groom's side.

Wes appeared, his gate almost a little too hurried as he moved down the aisle. It wasn't nerves, Soul had somehow leached all of that out of him, but an amazing excitement. As Wes made it up the small rise, Soul firmly took a hand to his shoulder, grabbing Wes in for an embrace that took both of them by surprise. "Get ready to be the happiest man alive, Wes," Soul croaked as he couldn't help his throat from tightening.

"I'm ready," Wes chuckled softly as they parted, taking one last, long look at his little brother before turning to face the walkway again.

It was purely traditional as the procession music started, a silhouette of Lizzie and her father appearing behind the screens of the doors. Maka held her breath as the shadow became corporeal in the doorway. First assumptions are usually incorrect, but Maka's rang true yet again, that simplicity was Lizzie's forte. Not that simple meant less than stunning, since Lizzie was breathtaking in the 1920s Hollywood sort of way, the silk sheath dress adorned with the tiniest, most delicate pearls to make gentle lines like a spiderweb.

Maka wasn't the only one refusing to breathe and Soul found himself nudging Wes to kickstart his lungs. Wes's inhale came with a sweet sigh after, and a blush came to Soul's face as he easily identified the sound. He's just as lovesick with her as I am with Maka. He could almost laugh at the two of them except he had to keep that signature smile, the altar not exactly the best place for a hearty laugh. Soul did break one cardinal rule, letting his eyes go from the bride to Maka even though he'd promised himself after that fortifying glance up the walkway he was done. Eh, I knew that was going to be a lie. She wasn't looking back at him, being much better at this pomp and circumstance thing than he was, but this allotted him more time to stare, tracing the tendrils of hair down to the fine line of her neck and along her collarbone.

It's ridiculous, right? That I'm standing here, thinking that one day, that'll be us. Not half as fancy, definitely not in front of this many people, but one day I'll convince her. He had to bite his tongue to keep in his own sigh, turning his attention back to Wes and the tears starting in his brother's eyes.

As ceremony dictated, Stephen walked his eldest daughter to the end of the aisle, depositing her in front of Wes before kissing her softly on the cheek. Lizzie was quick to turn to Susanna, offering her the bouquet before turning back to Wes, a brilliant smile on her face. And ceremony continued, the drone of the nothing out of the ordinary officiating putting a lull in the excitement of everyone but the bride and groom. Maka was trying to make sure that was where her attention was, still wanting to steal glances at Soul in the midst of boring diatribes about marriage.

None of the words from the officiant seemed to match the concept in her head, but Maka found herself refusing to take another step down that dark path in her mind. Instead, she made the point of seeing Wes and Lizzie in front of her, not just in reality, but in the entirety of her experience with them. It was obvious each time you were with them that this was love, not something that could easily be torn asunder, and with devotion, dedication to each other it had brought them here. Whatever marriage was, it could be this, too. There was always a chance for happiness especially when the couple gave it fertile ground to grow.

That slow journey through her mind brought her to the moment of the kiss and regardless of the warning about make-up, Maka's eyes flooded. It was sweet, maybe not entirely chaste but short, leaving both bride and groom smiling happily into each other's faces. The rest was literally a blur for Maka as she struggled through keeping the tears at bay, a few still sneaking down her cheeks regardless of her valiant effort. Shinji was kind, leading her like the sighted do the blind back to the foyer. It was then that she felt his hands on her, and strangely enough, a handkerchief forced between her fingers.

"Here, you big cry baby," Soul teased as he let go of his end of the fabric.

"Am not," Maka sniffled softly as she desperately dabbed at the wetness on her face.

"Liar," he chuckled as he ran his hands up and down her arms. "Pull it together, you know the photos are next and while I think that little bit of red to your nose is adorable, I know you're going to hate it."

Maka groaned, "I'm going to look ridiculous."

"Says you." Soul couldn't stop it from being a grumble, his hands feeling useless at her arms instead of clearing her face. "Deep breath."

"Trying." Maka pulled in a long dose of air as instructed before patting a hand to his chest. "Why did you have a handkerchief?"

"Always prepared," Soul shrugged. "Though I was worried I was going to have to give it to Wes up on the altar and kind of ruin it."

Maka blinked at him, eyes finally clear of tears enough to see the playful smirk on his face. "Ruin what?"

His fingers dipped just below the clutched fabric, tipping the edge to her line of sight. "Just, uh, a gift, I guess. Maybe it's lame but I was betting you'd cry." It was very delicate embroidery, completely easy to miss in its fine detail. In that corner, with just a few ornate lines for embellishment, were their initials.

"How did you…?" Maka was nowhere near concerned with her face, her fingers opening the fabric up to take a better look.

"Another one of Marina's talents…" Soul was starting to feel breathless, that intense look of concentration on her face not breaking one way or the other.

Maka had just about as much air as Soul. "But… a gift for me?"

"Sure," he let out a tight laugh. "It's the romantic thing to do, right?"

Before Maka could even raise her head, the planner cut between the two of them. "Pictures!" she squawked as she started pressing pairs back together, shoving Soul back in Susanna's direction as well as starting the group out of the foyer. All Maka saw was his white hair disappear into the sunlight before she turned her attention back to her hand. She'd need to hide it for the pictures - who wants the fancy equivalent of a used tissue in wedding photos - but she hated to smash it in her palm. Instead, Maka went about folding it in her hand, trying to keep that fine design of MA & SE to the top. Once safely folded, she enclosed it in her hand, squeezing it like a charm in her palm.

The handkerchief had done its job in more ways than one, drying Maka's tears not just literally but entirely as she finally let his answer sink in. Like one of your Elizabethian novels, the hero giving the heroine a token of his undying love before being whisked away by the evil wedding planner. That brought a grin to her lips, her nose crinkling to hold back the laugh.

"Something funny?" Shinji finally poked into her daydreams.

"No, nothing," but Maka had to expel the laugh. "Just… poor Elena." Maka's diversion worked, Shinji's attention pulled to the amusing pairing of the piggish man and no-nonsense woman who were not letting Maka down, a new argument starting as soon as their feet hit the gravel. Under this disguise, Maka let a final giggle fulfill her urges. He's adorable. Absurdly romantic. Just a complete fool for love and I'd… I'd be completely lost without it. With that thought, her eyes were on him, just in time to catch him glancing back over his shoulder.

The glance transformed into a full turn as he watched the tail-end of her laugh. Even with the stress of the wedding planner using him as a spearhead, Soul still found himself blushing. Damnit, I hope she liked that. Soul tore himself away, all focus back to pandering to the planner's and photographer's every whim. The posing was ludicrous, stiff scenes of looking out at the lake or something with absurdly situated hands. Even worse, both sets of parents had ambled into the fray, oscillating between giving orders and being ordered around themselves. Soul barely swallowed the particular twinge of annoyance at having to pose alone with his mother, a photo completely unnecessary but of course, required by Catherine.

"Alright, now the Evans family," the photographer waved Wes and Lizzie back to the scene.

Soul happily accepted their presence, trying to get to the other side of Wes in an effort to put distance between him and his mother.

"Maka," Lizzie called and started to wave her over.

The idea that Lizzie was pulling her over gave Soul that trembling in his stomach again, and woozy lovesick Soul was about to break into that goofy smile until he encountered the ice of his mother's face.

"Absolutely not, Elizabeth," Catherine hissed.

"Absolutely yes, Catherine," Lizzie offered back sweetly.

But that didn't deter Catherine, her lips still crawling back from her teeth, "Maka is not an Evans."

That had Soul's hands balled in tight fists especially as Maka was now close enough to hear, those green eyes blinking widely in that way he knew was to keep back tears. If one tear hits her cheeks I'm going to absolutely-

Soul didn't have to finish the thought since Lizzie took Maka by both hands, pulling her right forward and tossing her right into Soul. "Listen, Catherine, it is my wedding day, and I will have the final say and I say that Maka is as much an Evans as I am. Now smile for the damn picture, please." Lizzie turned into acknowledgment, and looking back at those photos one could say that all Evan's men had a similar expression of fear - Lewis for the backlash, Wes for a tone of voice he'd never heard from his bride until that moment, and Soul of the idea of Maka shedding a tear over this moment. The women, on the other hand, had very different faces - Catherine still not over the shock, Lizzie beaming in triumph, and Maka holding on to the last bit of courage she had to smile long enough for the shots to finish and the photographer to call over Lizzie's parents.

"Come here," he grabbed her by the elbow as soon as the attention had turned and pulled her far enough from the group.

"You don't have to, Soul," Maka murmured.

"Like hell I don't have to," Soul grumbled as he took a few more steps, bringing her other elbow into his hands so he could get close enough to holding her as propriety would allow.

"I'm OK," she urged, even through the warble in her voice. "I'm really OK."

"Again, like fucking hell," he forced his voice into a low hiss. "Please, Maka, please don't-"

"I'm OK," she pleaded again, shaking his arms for emphasis. "It… it hurt, but what Lizzie said… Soul, as long as you can tell me right now that you feel the same way I promise it'll be fine."

All the rage that he was ready to lay out fizzled as a grin sprouted on his face to accompany the easiest answer in the world, "I don't know why you'd want to be a fucking Evans but you're stuck with me."

"Good, because I want a copy of that damn picture to hang on the wall," a hint of a smile ended that statement along with her hands moving to his chest.

"Anything you want," he chuckled. "You sure you're OK?"

Maka huffed, "I will be if you can promise me some food, some champagne, and a few dances with you. If you can I think I can brave the rest of Catherine's storm."

His eyes darted to the group for a moment before throwing the idea of social niceties to the wind. Soul leaned in and planted a soft kiss on her lips. "Yes, yes, and yes."