Disclaimer: You probably get the whole disclaimer thing by now, but I like to think about what I could do if I did own Soul Eater.

8: Strong Liquor with Honey

A Drink, A Story, A Concept

As the little bell fastened to the restaurant door jingled, Marie Mjölnir head shot up hopefully, only to fall when it turned out to be one of her students from the academy. With a discouraged sigh, she began tracing the rim of her water glass slowly. Perhaps he wasn't coming. Maybe the way she had been described to him all wrong, and he regretted even agreeing to the date and didn't want to face her because he was afraid she would go crazy on him.

Marie shook her head stubbornly, trying a more optimistic train of thought. No, Azusa wouldn't describe me all wrong. She may have told a few of my… different quirks, but she's a truthful, young woman.

After yet another afternoon of the Death Scythe's laments about not being able to find a suitable husband to settle down with, Azusa had made a very quick, brief promise she would find her a date for that night. Of course, the dark haired weapon had thrown out any comment just to get her peer to stop going on about how all men she met who seemed nice and honest were always the taken ones. All the single ones always had something wrong with their right ears, something about them twitching, Azusa remembered.

Marie had been grateful for her friend's support and had immediately begun interrogating the pale woman about what the man looked like, how he acted, and if he went along with the whole, 'blonde equals dumb' policy, she could forget it. Azusa, now a sheet of white, had stammered the very short reply of, 'Y-You'll see,' and had gone off to search for a trustworthy man with qualities Marie was sure to appreciate. It took a few hours of her time, but she found a friend willing to give her a hand.

All Marie knew of the situation was Azusa's friend happened to be a tall, well-looking man who worked and didn't seem to mind children. She also mentioned he was a good cook. Hearing this, Marie had made a reservation at her second favorite restaurant in Death City (her favorite brought back too many fond memories), and waited for Azusa's friend to arrive.

Her date was now ten minutes late (she had even arrived five minutes early), and she felt positive she was on the brink of an emotional break down. She wanted a regular life with a regular husband, regular kids and a regular house. The only thing she would allow to be out of the ordinary would be the strange, limp cat with the one, always wide eye her children would bring home and want to keep. (Her children would be kind souls, Marie had decided, so of course they would do such a thing.)

The merry ching-a-ling of the bell sounded again, but Marie didn't look up, only continued to stare into her half-empty water glass. Was this how it would be for her, for the rest of her life? Would she be a Death Scythe, always being called away from the normal world to fight kishin and come to meetings under Lord Death's command?

With a loud, depressed exhale, Marie sank a little lower into a most unlady-like slouch. Yes. She was almost positive she could see her grave reading, Good friend, teacher, and weapon of Lord Death. There would be no 'loving wife' bit, and the only children surrounding her grave would be students from the academy. Though she guessed those children were better than no children.

"Hey."

At first she barely acknowledged the short greeting. It was just a far off, male voice that sounded from the horizon of her thoughts of a life doomed to be alone. Then she heard it again, the same, a little louder, "Hey."

This time Marie looked up, eyes narrowed in slight confusion. The man standing beside her table was by no means a waiter at the restaurant she was in and was most likely not her date, unless Azusa didn't know her friends very well or forgot which one she had even talked to…

"Oh, hello," Marie said softly, straightening up and smoothing down her dress. "You're not… Azusa didn't send you, did she?"

"Huh?" the man's brown eyes looked confused and he dug his hands into the pockets of his black, tattered looking jacket. "Nah, I don't know anyone named Azusa. I just saw you sitting here alone when I walked in, any other woman I've seen with your expression is usually at the bar."

Marie shrugged and tapped her water glass. "No, only water. I'm waiting for someone."

"Wasn't looking forward to your meeting with them?"

Shaking her head, the Death Scythe murmured, "No, he's just not here yet."

For some reason, as creepy as the action may have been, Marie found just a fraction of it comforting when the stranger sat down in the seat across from her, lazily leaning against the velvet back. "What, is the chump late or something?" The tiny bit of comfort the man's company had to offer whittled away, and Marie grew a little more indignant, answering with a haughty, "I'm sure he just forgot the time. He must be a busy man, dedicated to his work. If he has that kind of dedication, it may rub off into a relationship, maybe even a marriage."

The stranger gave her a look that she classified as doubt mixed with slight amusement. With a smirk, the man's eyes drifted away to the motionless front door and silent bell with a quiet, unconvinced, "Uh-huh."

Crossing her arms, Marie narrowed her eyes and said in a clipped tone, "Well, he should be here any moment now, so if you could let me be, I would appreciate it."

The man didn't look like he had any intentions to move, and the look he gave her sent a tremor of dread down her spine. Finally, after glancing back and forth between her eye patch and visible golden eye, he raised a long finger and swiveled it back and forth. "What happened there?"

Marie blinked once and absentmindedly raised two fingers and brushed them against the cool material of the eye patch. "Oh, this…well—" She stopped and narrowed her eyes stubbornly. "None of your business. Now, if you wouldn't mind, I think I see my date coming this way." Focusing on a random spot by the door, the Death Scythe raised her hand and waved to some invisible figure coming in.

The stranger before her didn't even turn but instead murmured, "Ah, come on. One drink and a story, and then I'll be out of your pretty hair. What'd ya say?"

Lowering her hand in defeat, knowing she hadn't fooled him, Marie muttered, "I really don't have time—"

"Did you want another ten, fifteen minutes to stare at that menu?" the man asked, gazing down at the laminated list of meals with a serious gaze, but she could see the irritating glitter of amusement. Snorting through her nose, Marie snapped, "Would you please continue with your own business and leave me to mine."

"Just a drink and a story, that's all I ask."

Marie faltered, raising an eyebrow above her eye patch. Perhaps if she was quick, she could still make it in time before Azusa's friend got there… Ah, who am I kidding? He's already so late, he probably forgot or dismissed it altogether.

Glancing at the door, she caught the man's grin of triumph out of the corner of her eye. This kind of guy… he's like all the other creeps out there… Oh, what has become of me?

With a disappointed sigh, Marie growled sharply, "Fine, but only one drink."

"Great," the man smiled, a little too Cheshire cat-like for her comfort and beckoned a waiter.

Marie looked over the menu again even though she'd memorized the whole thing. "A glass of red wine is fine."

"And you, sir?" The waiter viewed the rather scruffy man before him who was gazing back at him with a sneer, followed by, "Whatever you have probably isn't strong enough for my taste."

The waiter looked appalled for a few seconds before pivoting and striding back into the crowd, followed by the snickering of Marie's partner.

Marie didn't say a word, tracing circles in her napkin and not meeting her company's eyes until he chimed, "About that story?"

With a long sigh of resignation, the blonde haired woman began, "It happened when I was a student at the DWMA. I was on a mission with my weapon partner and a few friends, one of which could see right through witches' Soul Protects. We were in an old, run down town in California where it was rumored a nest of kishin were attacking citizens left and right, leaving remaining residents in a panic."

When she looked up, her listener appeared quite thoughtful as he took in what she was relaying. He no longer had a smug look on his face and glanced up once when the waiter came back with Marie's glass of wine, though he did break his solemn gaze just to leer at the waiter.

Clearing her throat and gaining her company's attention again, she continued after a hasty sip of wine. "Well, it turns out there weren't as many kishin as we previously thought. There were actually three witches and two kishin. We didn't know until we had walked into a trap and my friend had pierced through the witches' Soul Protects. He tried to warn us, but we were attacked from all sides."

"You never saw it coming," the man across from her murmured, leaning back in his seat and crossing his arms as Marie shook her head.

"We knew we couldn't escape, they'd only get us when our backs were turned, so," Marie took another drink from her wine glass, looking into the deep purple contents sorrowfully, "we fought with everything we had and it was a miracle we won, however, I lost my eye to one of the kishin. We returned to the Academy as quickly as we could to treat those who were badly wounded. We were lucky to have been so close to Death City in the first place."

"And that's the story?"

Marie gave a short nod, keeping her downcast eyes on wine glass without saying a word. She hated to look so helpless in front of a random stranger, but she couldn't help the sharp intake of breath when she was asked what happened to her partner during the battle.

Looking up at her company, she answered in what she hoped to be a strong whisper, "She was fatally injured before dying when we returned to the Academy. It was while trying to protect her that I lost my left eye. Had I been any slower, I'd still have my eye, however my meister would have been killed at that moment."

"Why didn't you let her?" the man across the table asked, watching her with an intrigued look. "Die right then and there, I mean."

Marie looked horrified and bolted up in her seat, exclaiming, "Because I am a weapon, and I was trained to protect my meister. At least there was a fraction of a chance to save her because of my actions!"

Around them, other occupants of the restaurant were watching the couple with startled expressions, but neither Marie nor her listener paid any attention.

"And what if you'd both died?" the rude gentlemen demanded with a shrug. "Then it would have been completely pointless. I just don't get the relationships of meisters and weapons sometimes."

"Perhaps if you had such a relationship, you would understand," Marie growled, slowly lowering herself back into her chair. "Now I've told my story, so please let me be."

"I've had a partnership like the one you described," the man continued on, ignoring Marie's request. "Though I can assure you I was not bound by the law a weapon has to protect their meisters at all times. I did it because I wanted to protect her."

Marie looked taken aback for a moment before saying, "Well, that's why weapons protect their meisters, because they want to, not because they feel obligated to do so."

"Yes, but do they take the bullet because they're close friends with their meister?" the man inquired, looking peculiarly serious. "Do they let themselves get stabbed because they love their partner?"

"At times, yes," Marie answered cautiously. "As soon as they become partners, they create a bond that cannot be broken easily. They may be friends, classmates, maybe even in love, but they'll always have that separate bond of meister and weapon. Another bond like one of friendship or affection strengthens their original one."

Her companion was smiling now, though it wasn't a crude smirk like before, but more one of recollection. Shaking his head slowly and chuckling under his breath, he said, "That's quite the concept you've thought up."

Marie looked bewildered until both herself and her company looked up when a taller, well dressed man approached the table, inquiring, "Miss Marie Mjölnir?"

"Yes, that's me," Marie cried, almost in surprise as she stood, shaking the newcomer's hand. "I'm sorry, I was beginning to think… well, never mind. It's good to meet you."

"You too, and I apologize for how late I am." The man's solemn eyes turned to Marie's original company who was already on his feet, motioning with a wrist flick for Marie's date to sit. As the other man did so, Marie watched the stranger begin striding slowly to the front door.

Excusing herself, Marie quickly called after him, "Hold on."

The man stopped, but he didn't turn.

"What's your name?" Marie inquired. "You got a story from me, so I deserve a name from you."

The man twisted around with a sly grin and he answered, "It's Sou, but seeing as you're quite the lady and you did tell me a good tale, I'll let you in on a little secret: My actual name is Giriko."

And with that, he turned and was out the door and into the jet black of the night beyond, leaving Marie at her table with an empty wine glass and a rather mystified date.

-/-\-|-/-\-

A/N: For some reason, I particularly enjoyed this pairing. ^^ Obviously in this one-shot, Marie's eye is not the same as it is in the anime. Also, I go by the manga, using the fake name Giriko gave to Maka, Soul, and Crona when they first met him: Sou.