Author stuff: Sorry for long wait. I really have no reason for it. I meant to have a chapter for you guys every Monday and… that's slowly slipping out of my grasp, even with reminders on my phone.

Anyway, this chapter. What can I say about it? When I first wrote it, I struggled with the main conversation here and then the scene after that.

I didn't get to thank everyone — but I did get quite a few of you — but here is my love and many thanks to all of you who have thus far followed this fic and added it to your story alerts list. Really, you guys have no idea what it's like to wake up from a nap with ten or twenty emails.

Disclaimer: I do not own Soul Eater or any of the characters. They all belong to Atsushi Okubo, who is signed under Square Enix in Japan and Yen Press in North America. The anime is directed by Takuya Igarashi, and produced by Bones, Aniplex, Dentsu, Media Factory, TV Tokyo.

Claimer: I do own Café Evans and Maggie (who's with Wes right now. Doing what... well all of us could probably guess something perverted, but they're really knitting).


CAFÉ EVANS

by infidelityONcrank

Chapter 5

The Fist and Foot Tango

The Rolls Royce was a very comfortable vehicle, I had to admit, but I wasn't really enjoying it. I felt claustrophobic between two muscle bound men on the bench seat. I mean, who would enjoy being kidnapped? Just a few freaks... I could probably list the all of them off the top of my head.

"I'm quite sorry to take you like this, Miss. Albarn," the Little Demon said, looking at me. "We didn't really get to talk last night, what with Soul quite rudely kicking you out during your shift. I need to sort things out between us. I'm afraid the only way I could smooth things over, was to take you back to my club and talk. I apologize. Ah, look, we're here."

It was a quick ride.

On the outside, the building was black and the windows reflected the street outside. The sign above the door red 'HELL FIRE' in big, bold, fiery letters.

I was pushed out of the Rolls Royce and lead into the building by two of the men.

The jazz club was a spiffy — that's right, I said spiffy — place. The tiles were a checkerboard red and black. The table tops, bar counter, and curtains matched. The walls were pure black painted cement bricks. There was a decent sized stage in the back. Red furniture placed strategically in the corners was shrouded by marble stone barriers and plants. It was a well thought out layout.

"Do you like what you see?" the Little Demon said, sitting down at one of the tables with a crystal glass with amber liquid in it.

"It's..." I said, hesitating to answer him. I didn't want to say it was nice, but I didn't want to appear rude either. Finally, I said, "It's different."

"Sit, you'll feel much more comfortable." He waved his hand to a chair opposite the table from him. "Do you want anything to drink?"

"No, thank you."

He frowned and gestured to the guards. They lifted me off the ground — I'm not sure how — and deposited me in the chair across from him. I'm pretty sure I could go after them for harassment.

"Now, you're probably wondering why I asked you to come here. As you know, I'm trying to take the café from the Evans boys. They're spoiled brats, always have been. I've seen them grow up you know from spoiled little tykes to spoiled adults. And not just Wes and Soul, but their sisters Norma and Esther. Their parents are good friends of mine. So, you know, I know many things about all four of the Evans children. But there's one thing I don't know. Do you know what it is, Miss Albarn?"

I clenched my fists under the table —they would be sore when I unclenched later and were probably white. Not only as I frightened of him, but he was demanding. I don't like demanding people. Which makes sense Fate would place me as a waitress.

"No." I managed to answer through tight lips. I didn't really believe him.

He studied me, seeing if I really knew. I didn't know, and that was the truth.

"What I want to know is why Soul Eater Evans would take interest in you, Maka Albarn."

Just then, the door slammed open, causing both the Little Demon and myself to jump. Soul stood in the doorway, looking none too happy.

"I thought I told you to leave her alone," he said, practically growling. His white hair fell into his face, and his red eyes glared viciously through the colorless strands.

Several muscle bound men rushed at him. Soul easily dodged them, being small and lithe as he was. His fists collided with guts, chins, eyes, and much more private parts as he defended himself. His legs did the same. He was a whirlwind of color. It was glorious and something out of those romance novels I used to read in high school. It was kind of disgusting.

"Come along, Miss Albarn," the Little Demon said, grabbing my wrist. He was stronger than he looked. His long finger nails pinched my skin as he pulled me along. "We need to finish our conversation elsewhere."

He tugged me into a back room and locked the door.

I struggled to release his grasp, grunting and stumbling. I dug my nails into his fingers and tried to bite them off, to no avail. I wasn't the damsel in distress type, I could fend off others, but for some reason my method weren't working on him.

I looked around the room frantically. I spotted a back door, a desk with books, and a bookshelf. I smirked to myself.

Grunting, I pulled him toward the desk. I grabbed a decent sized book that was within my grasp and cracked him on the head with it. He slumped down.

I dashed to the back door and fumbled with the lock. I could now understand how those girls in horror films felt. I finally got the door unlocked and I opened it. In time, too; he'd just woken up.

"Stop," I heard him say as I dashed out the door.

Four hands pulled me out of the building and dragged me through the alley. I went to slap them away when I saw they weren't the Little Demon's men. They were two young women, a little older than myself.

"Hi, sorry for just grabbing you," said the smaller of the two, "but Liz and I were trying to break open that door for the past five minutes to go in and get you. Oh, I'm Patty, by the way, and this is my big sister Liz. We're friends of Kid and Soul and Black Star and Tsubaki and Wes and Maggie. Tsubaki texted us that she had seen you taken by that freak and then we told Kid and then he told Soul and then Soul asked us to help him save you. Normally we don't do heroics, but Soul made you seem so nice, so we had to help."

As she babbled, we had left the alley and were running down the street to the café.

"Ignore Patty," Liz said. "She just likes to hear the sound of her own voice."

"I do not!" Patty said loudly.

"What about Soul?" I said, peeking over my shoulder to look back. There was no one chasing us.

"Don't worry about him," Liz said. "He can defend himself."

Kid opened the doors for us and we dashed in. He closed it the second I was in. We stood there for several minutes, catching our breath.

Someone held out a glass of water to me. I took it willingly and chugged it down, loving to cool wetness of the water and it trickled down my throat.

I smiled at the person who handed me the water.

"Thank you, Maggie," I said, suddenly feeling very worn out.

"Are you alright?" Maggie asked. "Did anything happen to you? What did that demon want?"

"I'm fine, just a few bruises on the wrists and arms. He only wanted to ask a few questions, at least, that's what I think he wanted." I turned to Liz and Patty and bowed. "Thank you."

"No prob," Liz said, flipping her long, blonde hair back. She wore blue jeans that were neatly tucked into a brown pair of cowboy boots. A red t-shirt hugged her torso, showing off her body.

"You're welcome," Patty said, saluting. Her blonde hair was cut just below her chin and flipped outwards. She wore a similar red shirt to her sister's, only it seemed tighter on her. She wore the same brown cowboy boots. The only real difference between them was that Patty wore blue jean shorts.

"I hate the fact you two aren't symmetrical," Kid said.

"Oh, not this again," Liz said. Patty burst into a fit of laughter, which was rather loud and very annoying.

"Glad to see you're alright," Maggie said, Pattyng me on top of my head.

"Maka, why don't you take the day off," Wes said.

"No, it's fine," I said. "I can still work, really. I'd probably be safer here than at my home, anyway."

"Good point..."

"Hey, Maka, follow me," Maggie said, waving me to the back.

I followed her upstairs to a neat apartment. Despite the wealth of the Evans family, Wes, Maggie, and Soul lived in an apartment with used furniture. Nothing exactly matched. The lamp and the couch clashed with each other and the rug spread out on the hardwood floor was pulled in several spots. All of the little tables were various colors. One of the couches mismatched cushions had duct tape on a corner in order to hold it together.

It felt like home.

"You can stay up here until it's time for your shift," Maggie said. "You use this remote to turn on the television and to turn up the volume, and you use this remote to turn on the TiVo and to change the channels."

She gave me to two remotes and left me to myself.

"I have some cleaning to do," she said.

I turned on the TV and XFINITY, and flipped precariously through the channels until I found something that looked interesting — a cooking show on the east coast somewhere with a blonde female host and a cheesemaker who was a reoccurring guest. My mind wasn't really on the screen, it was thinking about Soul.


I woke up in a dark room and found I was wrapped in something warm. I was in someone's bedroom. A quick look at the walls and various posters told me it was Soul's. Blushing, I shot out from under the cover and was immediately met with the cold air.

I looked around, rubbing my arms for warmth. Soul kept his room clean. There was his bed in one corner (the only thing that was messy), a computer and a desk with neat stacks of CDs, and a closet in another corner. Next to his bed was a bookshelf. There were several manga series and issues to the Rolling Stone, Spin, and gaming magazines. The clock on the bookshelf read 12:32.

My shift had already started.

I quickly made the bed and left the room. The family room beyond the door was dark. I felt my way through the shadows to the stairs and climbed down them carefully. I saw the lights from the café from under the door. I bumped into several things as I made my way to the only non-livable part of the building.

I winced at the lights and almost regretted waking up.

"Hey," Soul said, blocking the light. He must have heard me stumbling around.

"Hey," I said back, blinking rapidly as I hoped to clear the bursts of light in my eyes.

"Can we talk?"

"Yeah, but... can I fix my appearance first? I don't want to offend any customers."

I walked to the public bathroom the café had, using my memory of the layout to help me get there and only bumping into a table once. The bathroom was simple — toilet, sink, a soap dispenser, and hand dryer.

I sighed and leaned on the sink, looking into the mirror. My hair was a mess, there were circles under my eyes, my clothes were wrinkled. I needed a shower.

I pulled my hair out of the twin pigtails and combed the strands with my fingers, getting most of the knots out. I tugged at my clothes and fixed them as best as I could — which wasn't much, given the circumstances. I turned on the water and splashed it on my face. I wiped off the water and looked at myself in the mirror.

I looked a little better.

I smiled.

That… that was worse. I looked like the dead brought back to life. Eesh. No smiling. Smiling is a very, very, very bad choice.

I walked out of the bathroom and sat in front of Soul at a table. We sat silently for several minutes before either of us spoke.

"You should quit," Soul said.

"What?" I said.

"This place... Maka, you should quit."

"Why? I like working here. I'm not going to quit. And even if I did quit that... that freak is going to come after me."

"...What did he want to know?"

"He..." I hesitated in telling him. I bit my lip and looked down at my shaking hands in my lap.

"Maka, tell me," he said. I looked into his eyes and felt bound to tell him what he wanted to know. "What did he want?"

"He wanted to know why you are interested in me."

"...Did you tell him?"

"Soul, why are you interested in me?"

He looked at the floor. After a moment, he answered, "I can't say... not yet, at least. And he already knows, he was just trying to see if you knew. I plan to keep it that way, too. So long as you don't know, you're safe."

"He'd still come after me, even if I quit, Soul. And he doesn't really scare me. He's, like, half my size. Hardly a frightening."

"Maka, this whole thing goes deeper than just this café."

"It has to do with your family, doesn't it? He told me he knows your whole family. That's true, right? Soul, please tell me."

"Yeah, it does have to do with my family. But I can't tell you right now. Some other time, I will, I promise."

"...Okay."

We sat in silence again.

"Hey, Maka...?"

"Yeah?"

"Never mind, I'll ask you tomorrow," he said, turning away and heading to service a customer.


Author stuff cont'd: So, things heating up. Soul is interested in Maka, and he won't admit it. Maka is oblivious. (I'm pretty sure it's canon.) And I'm really too tired to add a whole lot more.

Chicago is currently buried under of more than a foot of snow right now and I don't have any boots that reach my knees… that don't need to be fixed. My dog is bored, I'm going stir crazy, and my sister is watching Friends.

If I had money, and a better car, I'd go to the movies right now. Something interesting has to have been released, right? …right?

If all else fails, Game of Thrones marathon.

xoxox, iOc