Title: This is Halloween
Summary: Maka had been really proud of her Harley Quinn costume and she had to admit his Joker costume was pretty great as well. If only people would stop assuming they were a couple because she had never seen that man before; their matching costumes were really just a coincidence!
"Hey, if you're looking for your boyfriend, he's over there," a blue-haired menace said, with not quite the same well-meaning undertone the ten people who had also pointed to Maka's boyfriend before him had. He snickered snidely and ran off before Maka could do so much as curse him, his ridiculous star costume shining like an overly flashy discoball in the colourful lights of the dancefloor. She growled into her drink, some artificially dyed toxic green beverage that hadn't made her tipsy enough to deal with this turn of events. Fiercely narrowed eyes glowered into the direction of the man who was responsible for everything. Her glare hardened. The Joker.
Actually, he was only someone who was dressed like the Joker because it was Halloween. She had to give it to him; his costume was nice and, even though he looked appropriately haggard in the long purple coat, purple pants, and green vest, it didn't give the impression that it had been cheap - unlike many other outfits tonight. His hair was green and mussed, his face painted a pallid white, his sockets black, and his mouth a red line that stretched beyond the corners of his lips to his cheeks.
However, despite what many partygoers seemed to believe, he was not Maka's boyfriend. He was the Joker. And she was… Harley Quinn. And she had been so damn proud of her choice of costume! But then he had to derail it! Or… well, he hadn't actually done anything, but it didn't help that even her friends had been teasing her about this wretched coincidence for the whole evening.
"Why don't you go to your Mistah J before he starts feeling lonely," Liz had said, smirking, while Tsubaki just smiled serenely. Traitors! Both of them. If they had even shown the slightest of signs that they knew the Joker, Maka wouldn't have doubted for a second that her friends had somehow arranged for this. But their group had mostly kept to themselves, and the only interaction she had seen with the Joker's group was when The Star - Maka grimaced - had accidentally stepped onto Tsubaki's fancy peacock tail.
Her black and red harlequin motley was reasonably comfortable, but she kind of regretted going with the high-heeled boots, even if they did make her legs look amazing and brought out their strong shape. Maka had forgone the fitting headpiece because it was far too hot and she had had started to sweat five minutes after she had put it on. Pulling her hair up into pigtails had been the far more sensible choice, especially since it was also Harley's signature style.
"Maka!" Patti's arms wrapped around Maka's shoulders, almost making her drop her drink. "Let's dance. Come on!"
"Wah? Wait! Lemme finish my drink first!" She managed only three small gulps before Patti's impatience won over and Maka was pulled to the dancefloor by a giraffe. The bass of the song had been enhanced by faux werewolf howls and a deep distorted voice laughing like a maniac in the background, but as Maka's feet tried to match the rhythm, she felt her self-consciousness slip away, her blood drumming in her veins, blue and purple lights bathing the dancefloor in an eerie glow that made Liz stare apprehensively towards the exit from beneath the rim of her cowboy hat. Maka smiled at her friend, lips stretched wide and cheeky as she playfully moved her hips against Patti's giraffe hips.
More and more people trickled to the dancefloor, the air getting hot and heavy. Sweat beaded at her temple; hopefully, it wouldn't make her white makeup melt. Maka gulped, grinning when Patti pulled her further away from the crowd, to a tamer corner where they didn't have to fear being accidentally punched by particularly enthusiastic dance moves. Her tousled pigtails whipped from left to right as she swayed her hips to the beat, the mass of werewolves, vampires, witches, and fairies swirling into blacks and blues and reds. A zombie bumped into her, shouting an apology over the drum and bass of the song, and Maka couldn't bring herself to be angry, even if he did nearly make her fall because wow, that was one nice brain-eater.
As the early night bled into the first hours of the next day and Liz made out with a male Cruella de Vil, Maka's thighs were aching, the collar of her motley making her throat itch. She sat down on one of the vacant plastic chairs and let out a sharp breath, watching the drunken dancers with a weary smile. Gently, she wiped some of the sweat from her forehead, careful not to make her black mask slip. It was only 1 am and she was already ready to go home and crash in her bed, even if the party proved to be entertaining. She bit her lip, shuddering with a grimace when Cruella de Vil - or should it be masculinized to Cruel de Vil? - tilted Liz back and slanted his lips over hers in a passionate tangle of tongues and an overabundance of saliva. There was no way she was going to be able to manage to get Liz to listen to a single word she said. Where were Patti and Tsubaki? She hadn't seen them around since The Star had stolen the mic of from the DJ to declare loudly with slurred sentences that he was A Star before crashing headfirst into the crowd of cheering people.
Maka's brows furrowed. It wasn't far to her place, but she'd loathe to leave her friends-
"Yo." Purple-clad legs blocked her view to the dancefloor and Maka's eyes shot up to meet startlingly red eyes and in a face smeared with paint all over his cheeks. "How is it going...uh, Pooh?"
"Haaah?" She raised her chin before she stood up, fists clenched at her sides. "Who are you calling Pooh?"
The Joker scratched the back of his head, looking decidedly not psychotic or amused. He pressed his lips into a thin line, glaring into the throng of people before looking back at her. "I'm sorry. Man, my friend told me to… to start talking to you, and you know, I thought I'd break the ice by quoting the Joker, but as you can see, that isn't exactly working out for me." He laughed uneasily, his mouth curving into a wry display of sharp jagged teeth.
"But why call me Pooh- oh! Oh! Now I get it!" Maka risked a tentative smile and pulled at the collar of her costume, vaguely recalling the pet names that the Joker and Harley had for each other. "Sorry, I thought you were just being-" she waved her hands around helplessly, "- you know…"
"I know what you mean. And sorry, I really wasn't trying to be creepy… even if it is Halloween." She snorted, pressing her palm against her mouth to stifle her laughter before she couldn't hold it back anymore, and dissolved into giggles. But his stricken face made her feel a little bad. She didn't want to embarrass him! He averted his eyes, his voice dropping to a low rumble when he muttered, "So not cool."
"Ah, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to laugh at you."
He gave her a flat look. "Yes, you did."
Maka stared briefly at the ceiling, tapping her finger against her chin. "Yeah, maybe I did a little," she smiled, her cheeks hot, her fingers twitching. "I'm sorry, Mistah J." The Joker blinked, and she was really glad that the white facepaint was concealing her blush.
"So how's your evening going, Harley-girl?" He smiled rakishly, his fake Glasgow grin stretching, and shoved his hands into his pockets.
"Just fine, P-puddin'."
His eyes flashed with amusement and he chuckled. "That's my Pooh," he shook his head then, "these pet names really are awful, aren't they?"
"Yeah," she nodded sagely, though she was still smiling, "They really, really are." She eyed him for a moment - she'd been thinking less than kind thoughts about this mystery Joker all night, but he actually seemed to be a decent man. Feeling just a little bad about that, she stuck out her hand and when he looked at it like she'd grown batwings, she offered her name- "Maka."
"What? Are you trying to tell me you're not Dr. Harleen Quinzel?" He mocked a gasp, shaking her hand.
"Nope. Not gonna fall for any insane criminals."
"I'm Soul. Nice to meet you."
"Same."
"Your costume is pretty great by the way."
"Thanks. You look pretty great, too!"
"Heh, I tried." He rubbed the back of his neck, studying the toes of his shoes. "Parties are usually not my thing, but Halloween parties are always kinda different."
She shrugged. "I like parties just fine as long as people behave." At his raised brows, she hastily added, "You know, when they don't act stupid and aggressive because they're drunk and stuff like that."
"I see."
As quickly and awkwardly as their conversation had started, it ended likewise. They stood side by side, fidgeting as he made half-hearted snarky comments about the remaining dancers on the dancefloor who were clearly inebriated by now. They both chuckled when the cape of an impressive Maleficent got stuck around the shoulders of a rather small Frankenstein's Monster. Maka tapped against the backrest of the chair she had been occupying, considering to sit down again; her hands were jittery, and she wanted to take her gloves off. Mistah J- The Joker- Soul was looking at everything but her. He had an odd way of flirting… if he was even trying to flirt with her. Maybe he had just wanted to compliment her on her costume and leave immediately, but feared that it would be impolite to do so. A nerve in his neck jumped as he gulped, his Adam's apple bobbing.
Maka swallowed her spit, her mouth dry, her tongue thick like cotton as she absentmindedly ran her fingers through one pigtail. Oh, to hell with it!
"Hey, would you like to dance?" she asked, gaze kept carefully low. She felt him shift next to her, his gloved hands clenching and unclenching before he let them drop.
"Uh, I actually don't dance."
Maka's heart fell, disappointment weighing heavily upon her shoulders. There was a sour taste on the tip of her tongue and it felt eerily like resentment. She had been pretty sure that he was trying to flirt. Urgh, she had to get better at reading people, men in Joker costumes in particular.
"But I can make an exception, I guess." Her head snapped up so quickly that for a moment her vision swam with distorted lights from the force of the movement. His lips were curled into a mild smile. Tentatively, Maka allowed herself to relax, tense shoulders sagging. "I mean," he began, taking her hand in a loose grip, making her almost regret that they were both wearing gloves, "Since the Joker and Harley are already both here, we should make the most of it." His voice was low and it almost sounded like he was grumbling, self-conscious as he stiffly looked from left to right when they reached the deserted dancefloor. Perhaps she should just tell him that he didn't have to dance with her if it made him uncomfortable, but before she could open her mouth, with the hazy stares of the partygoers boring into her skull, Soul hesitantly placed his hands on her waist.
Her legs were wobbly and clumsy as she tried to move to the song, a slowed-down remix of an obscure track she had never heard before, but his hands were warm, gaining confidence after a brief moment of misplaced arms and hands. He guided her hips, their movements smooth and a far cry from the playful swaying when she had danced with her friends; there was a certain sensuality to all of it, in the way he clutched her left hip only, on how she brushed her hands against his upper arms, and for the first time since she had put it on, Maka realized just how tight her costume actually was, hugging her like a second skin and leaving nothing to the imagination like the firm muscle of her legs, the elegant curve from waist to hips and the swell of her small breasts.
The sharp breath she took seared through her lungs when her hands grazed his chest, meeting sturdy muscle that made her toes curl in the confines of her boots. His fingers feathered over the skin of her neck, and her throat parched in a kind of excitement she hadn't felt before - something that had her body strung out, her blood roaring in her ears as her chest fluttered and heat spread in her belly.
The song ended with a final clash of drums and the auto-tuned voice of the singer giggling about something. His hands fell away, and she had no choice but to drop hers as well. She blinked and tilted her head to the side, trying to squint through the red strobe light that seemed to have frozen to point at her face.
"That was-"
"Oh my gosh! I have to take a picture of you!" Something purple and busty bumped into Soul and grabbed Maka's arm, dragging the Joker and Harley together until their heads collided. Sultry yellow eyes were vibrant with mischief as the woman's lips curved into a cattish smile when she grabbed the gigantic witch hat on her head to keep it in place. "You're such a cute couple! I wish my man would agree to go to parties with matching costumes."
"Uh, we are not-" Maka tried to interject, raising her hand in front of her as she felt that flicker of annoyance flare back to life. Soul was also spluttering some bashful denials, but the witch grinned as the flash of her smartphone blinded them, and took off with a flamboyant wave before they could say anything.
"Well, that was awkward," Soul muttered, scowling.
"Yeah." Maka gritted her teeth, closing her eyes for a brief moment as she forced herself to breathe in and out, in and out. "I mean, it's not like you should ask people if they even want to be photographed."
He snorted as they made their way back to the tables and slumped down onto the cheap plastic chairs. "Everyone has been pretty dumb since they saw you, Harley-girl. They kept coming to me and pointing at you. Oh, are you lost? I think your girlfriend is over there."
"Ah, so they have done the same with you?" She giggled into her palm, the corners of her eyes crinkling at his miffed look. "It was pretty annoying, but you have to admit… it is a weird coincidence."
"Yeah, and we do look kinda awesome together." He grinned wickedly, the first real smile that really looked like it could belong to the Joker, even if a bit less unhinged.
Maka stretched back on her chair, her cheeks hot to the touch. "I guess so."
The hours passed by as their conversations started to become less awkward and more heated. He argued that Goku from Dragonball Z could take on and - the nerve of him - beat Superman in a fight. Or that Bucky Barnes was pretty annoying in the comic books and that the movies did a good job of aging him up instead of keeping him as a useless kid sidekick, with which Maka grudgingly had to agree. She found out that she disagreed with a lot of opinions he seemed to have with everything else in the world of superheroes and supervillains, but couldn't maintain her ire for too long regardless of how snide and pretentious he'd get during particular hot button issues like Peter Parker's divorce from Mary Jane in One More Day. And when she expressed her disdain over the death of Gwen Stacy and how it seemed to have set off an everlasting trend of killing off the heros' girlfriends to add to their manpain, he agreed with her criticism after she listed many many instances of this occurring in comic book history.
It was only when Maka spotted Patti passed out on one of the chairs in the opposite corner of the hall that she stood up.
"It was really nice talking to you, Soul, but I think I better get me and my friend home."
"Yeah, okay. I can give you a ride if you want."
"No, but thank you." She smiled as she struggled to get Patti to stand and lean against her shoulder. "It's not far to my place. I actually live here on campus."
"Oh, okay then. Here, let me help." He rushed forward, gripping Patti gently by her elbow as her bleary blue eyes dubiously took in the appearance of Soul and then Maka. She opened her mouth, grinning like a hyena as Maka braced herself for one final dirty comment to round up the night, but Patti merely let out a huff and slumped against her, muttering that Liz wasn't going to be back until tomorrow or maybe later, since her sister had apparently taken a liking to the "Dalmatian Killer".
"Did Tsubaki already leave?" Maka asked, grunting when Patti nearly slipped out of her grasp, but Soul steadied her again, and they managed to make it outside without further incidents. The cool, late night/early morning air made her realize just how hot it had been inside, and Maka paused for a moment to enjoy the clear sky.
"Yessh, she said she'd text you."
"Oh, okay."
"So, um, this is where I leave," Soul said, cautiously letting go of Patti's arm to walk to the monstrosity of a bike parked on the sidewalk just beneath the cone of light of the street lamp. "So yeah, this is goodbye I guess."
Maka's heart clenched as she watched him stand by his bike, fiddling with something she couldn't see from this angle. "Y-yeah. It was really nice. I mean, I had a lot of fun!"
"Hey, what about we, uh-" he trailed off uncertainly, his pretty red eyes glinting in the dim light of the street lamp. Maka's head was spinning, not only because she could feel Patti drooling against her shoulder, but- was he going to ask her out? She was so not prepared for this! Hell, she was just a first year student; she couldn't allow herself to get distracted by dates and boyfriends, no matter how endearing the boy in question seemed to be and… and, "-how about we hang out or something."
She blinked as his face contorted to an expression of utter mortification when it dawned on him how lame of a line that was. Gulping, he hastily continued, his voice stricken, "I mean we don't have to if you don't want to. I just thought that we could… watch Batman or something."
Was his blush actually showing through the white facepaint? Maka squinted, but then realized that he was probably waiting for an answer as he was broiling in his crumbling self-esteem. She pressed her palm against her heart, willing it to calm down as she cleared her clogged up throat.
"Are you asking me out… on a date?"
He groaned and buried his steaming face in his palms, peaking at her through the crack of his fingers. "Yeah, that was the plan."
Despite herself, she snorted before clamping her hand against her mouth. He looked so adorably embarrassed that she felt like she was kicking a puppy. However, there was a fluttery sensation in her stomach, and even though she insisted that she would absolutely not let herself get distracted by a man, he was too adorable. And his taste in comic books was exquisite, not to mention that she hadn't met anyone yet who got as involved in the debates about characterization, plotting and character design as she did. There was still a flicker of doubt within her mind, but her smile came easily, her heart thudding against her ribs.
"Are you free tomorrow?"
He perked up, eyes growing wide as he stumbled a little. "Yeah! I am."
"Okay then. Just a thing though - we're gonna start with the Tim Burton movies, okay?"
Soul nodded eagerly, his mouth curling into a brilliant smile that had her short of breath. Her blush was probably also showing through her makeup by now. As they agreed that it'd be more sensible to watch the movies at his apartment since the dorms on campus really didn't have much room for anything, they exchanged numbers and awkward parting pleasantries. Maka barely registered the weight of the drunken Patti against her shoulder anymore; she watched him sit on his bike, biting back a smile at his clumsy, trembling hands. She couldn't help it.
"What is it, Mistah J? Don't you wanna rev up your Harley?" she murmured coyly, his hands freezing as his spine became rigid. It took her a second too long to realize how wrong that had sounded. She squeaked, almost letting go of Patti because she couldn't face him right now. "I meant your bike!"
"I- I know that!"
And that was how they parted, and maybe it was a little awkward the next day when they sat on his couch in the living room for their Batman marathon - but in the end, they could both claim it worked out, somehow. If their matching Batman and Catwoman costumes and tightly clasped hands on next year's Halloween were anything to go by, it worked out very well indeed.