Soul's eyes followed her all the way out the door. A grunt of pain escaped him when Blackstar punched him to get his attention.
"Dude, quit staring, you're making your god jealous," Blackstar smirked, easily dodging Soul's fist. "I don't like sharing attention. 'Specially not with such a flat-chested bookworm."
"Shut up, Blackstar," Soul growled. "I wasn't staring. Her tag was sticking out the back of her shirt, that's all." It was a lame excuse, but the only one he could think of.
Blackstar snorted in blatant disbelief.
"No, it wasn't ," he scoffed. "C'mon, man, just admit it already. To yourself, at least. You know you like her, stop trying to hide it."
"I do not, Blackstar, shut it! What'd you know anyway?"
"Next to nothing," Kid said calmly from the couch. "So, now that we've established that Blackstar knows nothing and Soul doesn't like Maka, how about we get to that whole guys' night out? I'm ready to do just about anything that doesn't involve clothes shopping, cosmetic shopping, shoe shopping, or jewelry shopping."
"No shopping, got it," Soul laughed, gratefully latching onto Kid's safety line.
"How 'bout we go clubbing? Y'know, for a change of pace?" suggested Blackstar. "You never know, we might find some totally hot chick that we can't live without!"
Soul smirked and agreed, and Kid sent a discreet wink in his direction.
Little did Soul know that it wasn't actually for him. It was for the assassin beside him, who bore a markedly sly smirk.
…
"Ooh, Maka, here without your shadow?" Liz teased as she let her friend in. Maka sighed and shook her head.
"Yes, Liz, I left Soul back at the apartment with the guys for their own time. And I wish you'd open your eyes. Soul does not like me that way." However much I wish he did. She didn't say this aloud, but Liz read it in her eyes.
"Big sis isn't the one that needs to open her eyes!" Pati shouted happily, bouncing down the stairs and fastened herself onto Maka's arm. "Soul's got his red ones trained on you whenever you turn around!"
"Whatever, Pati," Maka forced a laugh.
"Alright, you two, I'm sure Maka didn't come for girl's night just to have you tease her non-stop about Soul." Tsubaki appeared at the top of the stairs, smiling apologetically at her smaller friend and coming down to stand beside her. Maka smiled gratefully as the sisters mumbled insincere apologies of their own.
"So, what's the plan for the night?" asked Maka, wriggling free of Pati's death grip. She worked her arm around for a bit until the circulation was regular once more.
"Well, Tsubaki said we should leave it to you," said Pati.
"I'd suggest studying for that test on Friday," replied Maka at once.
"Which is why I told her there was no way in Hell you were picking," Liz said, amused at the look of outrage on Maka's face.
"Liz—!"
"We're goin' out for a night on the town," she cut across Maka.
"But Liz!"
"Oh, no, no buts," threatened Liz, that dangerous glint appearing in her eyes that was always precursor to being tied up and thrown in a car trunk. "We are going out, you will wear that dress Tsubaki picked out for you ages ago, and you. Will. Like. It. Right?"
Maka swallowed convulsively, not fooled by the sweetness in her friend's voice. "Uh, right. Yeah."
Liz grinned; it was more like a baring of teeth. "Great. Tsubaki, can you help her get ready while me and Pati rummage for something appropriate in our own wardrobes?"
"Erm, sure," said Tsubaki meekly. The tall, black-haired weapon rolled her indigo eyes and took Maka's hand, leading her down a hall to the closet where Liz kept her spare clothes.
When they were out of sight, Liz pulled out her phone and hit speed dial. He picked up on the first ring.
"Hey," she said quietly, being sure that Maka wouldn't overhear her. The person on the other line said something in an equally soft tone of voice, which a disgruntled Pati couldn't understand even with her ear fighting for a place on the phone.
"The one on Sunset? When? Alright, we'll be there. Wait, how 'bout an hour later? Be weird if…Yeah, yeah. Uh-huh. Alright then. 'Bye!"
Liz hung up and turned her scheming smile to her little sister.
"Kid said they're already there."
…
"Holy shit, dude, is that Maka?" Blackstar shouted over the thrumming bass.
Soul jerked around reflexively, only to have the blue-haired ninja laugh and clap him on the back.
"Nope, my bad. That chick isn't near as flat. But hey, if you wanna see her so bad, why dontcha ditch guys' night?"
Soul glowered balefully and took another swipe at his friend, who, this time, wasn't fast enough—or was just too drunk—to avoid it. Blackstar tumbled backwards off of the table, crashing on top of a couple dancing nearby. After a few choice swear words—from the couple, not Blackstar; he thought it was hilarious—the assassin clambered to his feet and the dancers moved away with simmering looks at the boy who looked way too young to be there.
"Jesus Blackstar, would you just give it a rest?" Soul demanded.
Blackstar was saved from having to answer by Kid's more than stunned face appearing at Soul's side. He looked majorly flustered.
"Hey Kid. You look like shit. What's up?" said Soul, leaning back in his seat.
"Ahm…er… Tonight… Guy's night… Well, girls…uh…that is to say…" he mumbled incoherently.
"Dude, English, please," Soul teased, thumping his friend on the back.
"Well, uh, tonight was guy's night out…" Kid said unhelpfully.
"Yeah, that's why we're here," Blackstar pointed out. A little mechanically.
"And it's girl's night out…"
"Which is why they're not here." Again, a bit robotic. As though a badly rehearsed line in a play. Soul frowned. Kid gulped.
"Er, well, actually…" he muttered. "They kind of…Well, they're at the bar now."
"WHAT?" Soul lunged to his feet.
Kid stumbled back warily, and even Blackstar looked taken aback.
"Maka's at the bar?" he roared.
"N-no! Well, she was sitting with Liz and Tsubaki up there, but she wasn't drinking anything. Not that I saw, anyway."
Soul relaxed a little, but then a confused look crossed his face. "Uh, why are they here?"
"I'd imagine they're here to drink and dance and hook up with some hot guys. You know, same reason we're here. Minus the hot guys, 'course."
Soul shot Blackstar a sharp look. The ninja just shrugged and downed his fourth shot of whiskey.
"I don't see why it's such a big deal," Blackstar shrugged, unusually level-headed. "'S not like we can't still have the time of our fuckin' lives, is it?"
Kid nodded enthusiastically, but suddenly Soul found that he could no longer enjoy the chaotic atmosphere. He was too busy scanning the crowd for a familiar, uniform-clad and reserved form. He didn't see it. At one point, long after Blackstar had ditched him in favor of some hot chick who'd been giving him goo-goo eyes for the past half hour, Soul saw Liz dancing in quite the dirty fashion with Pati, amidst a ring of serious horn-dogs.
I'd call 'em pervs, thought Soul, but that's kinda hot.
But then something else caught his attention. A slender girl, adorned in navy blue raw silk and silver shoes, flirting with a couple of guys at the bar, a short glass of amber liquid in her hand. She laughed loudly.
The dress was revealing, skimming down her legs to just past her knees, but with slits on either side that sliced half way up her thighs. Slits also cut along the sides of her waist, not noticeable until she moved, and then they showed teasing glimpses of fair skin. The sleeves were off-the-shoulder, and made of transparent black lace that clung to her slim arms down to her tiny wrists. The front was modest enough, showing just a hint of cleavage, but the back plunged down in a steep V that ended just above her hips. It left a lot of cream-colored skin exposed. A lot. Too much. That back made it very plain to anyone with eyes that she was not wearing a bra. That dress was sexy.
And Soul did not want his meister wearing it.
That's right. It was Maka wearing that clingy-ass, revealing dress and those damned sparkly heels that made her legs look damn sexy. Her eyelashes were longer and fuller, her lips cherry red. The makeup was actually pretty minimal; just a bit of bronzing and highlighting to bring out the sharper planes and angles of her face. Her hair was pulled up in a carefully messy bun, stray strands curling around her glowing face. She looked great. This was not lost on Soul. Nor was the fact that those three guys all clearly thought the same thing.
One of the guys said something, and Maka shrugged, her reply lost amongst the noise. He took the drink from her and set it on a table, pulling her out onto the dance floor. His sullen-looking buddies wandered off, and Soul rose to his feet. He didn't have to cover his motives—Blackstar had already left with that girl, and Kid had vanished into the crowd somewhere. So Soul strode over to that table and lifted Maka's abandoned glass, still half full, to his nose. Smelled like soda, not alcohol. And yet, not quite. There was the faintest hint of something more bitter. Soul frowned, and took a small, hesitant sip. Nah, it was just cream soda. How lame. But…hold on. Again Soul sensed something bitter. What was it? Not alcohol. He was familiar enough with that. This was something different…
Oh, fuck.
No, it was definitely not alcohol. It was way god-fucking-damn worse.
The glass slid from his numb fingers; it crashed to the floor, shattering loudly. Nobody flinched at the noise. His eyes darted over the dance floor with new purpose now. He couldn't see her. He shoved his way through the throngs of people—they barely glanced at him—searching for his friend. A ha! There she was, dancing with that same guy. Only it wasn't the kind of dancing Maka knew. Not the kind of dancing his Maka would ever do. The guy was grinding intimately against her, his arms caging her to his chest when she tried to pull back. Her emerald eyes were already starting to look a little hazy. The guy grinned and stepped back, keeping a hand on her waist. With the other hand he tilted her face up, satisfied when he saw the size her pupils. Still grinning, the stranger pulled Maka from the floor.
Double fuck. Soul sprinted after them, barreling people over, just barely keeping Maka in his sight. In a sick way, Soul was glad for the added stumbling clumsiness of his meister's normally graceful movements; they slowed down that other guy enough that Soul was able to tail the pair of them until they left the building. Soul burst out into the cool night air, looking around furiously, that feverish glint of panic filling him as he searched.
There! He screamed inwardly, sprinting off after the staggering pair. As he grew nearer, Soul could make out the faint reluctances that Maka slurred.
"Hey!" he shouted finally, almost on them. "Dumbfuck!"
Maka's nameless companion swerved around, disbelief flaring on his face.
"You talkin' to me?" he demanded. Soul sneered, noticing out of his peripheral that Maka looked faintly relieved.
"Nah, I'm talkin' to friend over there," Soul jeered, pointing to a streetlamp a few feet away.
The idiot followed the gesture. In the time it took the man to look back, Soul was on him, knee shoved painfully into his most sensitive area.
"Hey!" the guy choked. "I need that—to—fuck!"
"You mean rape, dumbass?" Soul demanded, pushing harder. The man gave an ungodly squeal of pain. "That's what you were planning to do, wasn't it?"
"Don't—know—you—talking—!" the guy spluttered.
"My ass! You slipped this girl roofies in her damn drink, jackass!" I snarled. "How many other girls've you given the same treatment? You fucker, I should kill you for even talking to her!"
Soul didn't catch what the man choked out next. Another, much softer voice penetrated the enraged haze that covered his brain.
"Soul…" she whimpered. His head whipped around; she was kneeling on the ground, staring at him with that drug-induced haze, but he could see that she was fighting to stay coherent and aware.
"Maka?"
"Soul…don't…don't kill him," she murmured, crawling to his side and putting a trembling hand over his.
"He deserves it, Maka," Soul growled. The man whimpered. "Pathetic," he spat.
She shook her head slowly. He could see the effort she was making to remain sentient. She tried to hold his hand; he felt her fingers tense, but they didn't quite obey her.
"Turn him…turn him in. To the police. They'll put…put him in…prison…life sentence…"
I gave her a long look, then turned back to the man with a scowl. "It's your lucky day, punk. You should be glad she was here, otherwise you'd already be dead."
Again the guy whimpered, but Soul rocked back on his heels and stood, hauling up the stranger by his throat and dragging him to a pay-phone. Those scarlet eyes never left the huge, bloodshot ones of the would-be rapist as he dialed three numbers and gave the address.
In no time, a cop car pulled up, and a tall man in uniform stepped out. He took one look at the bleary eyes of the girl clutching the arm of a tall, furious-looking teenager, who in turn had a death grip on another man's throat.
"You Soul?" checked the officer. Soul nodded wordlessly and thrust the scumbag toward the cop.
"Rapist. Doesn't deserve a fucking trial—he's guilty as guilty can get—but do whatever you want," he growled, wrapping an arm around the dazed girl's waist.
"She looks a little young to be here," the officer noticed. Soul waved away his concerns.
"She is a little young to be here. Doubt she wanted to come, 'specially dressed like that."
"A little young to be so drunk, too."
"She's not drunk, moron. That asshat slipped a fuckin' date rape drug in her drink. She's not the first one, either."
The officer frowned at the kid's manners, and his language, but nodded and shoved the man into the car without another word.
"Thanks for the call, kid," he said, and climbed into the car. The black-and-white vehicle drove away, and Soul was left supporting Maka outside of the club.
"Hey, Maka, let's get you some water," said Soul after a minute. "Might clear your head a little."
She nodded slowly and allowed him to guide her slowly back into the building. Nobody paid them any attention as they made their way to the bar. The bartender took one look at Maka and, thinking she'd had too much to drink, slapped down a full glass of water and some saltine crackers.
Maka tried to pick up the glass, but her fingers wouldn't quite obey her, and Soul ended up having to pour it into her mouth for her.
"Damn, Maka, never take a drink from someone you don't know in a place like this," Soul grumbled, setting the empty glass back on the counter. With a wordless gesture, Soul requested a refill, and the tender obliged.
Maka nodded again, and nibbled half-heartedly at a cracker. Her eyelids drooped. Soul got a few more swallows of water out of her before she slumped against his shoulder, finally losing consciousness.
"Could you call us a cab?" he requested, gesturing to his out-cold companion.
The bartender gave the girl a bemused look, but did as Soul requested.
"It'll be here in fifteen minutes."
Soul nodded. "Thanks."
…
That night Soul held Maka close as the drugs wore off, and she cried herself to sleep for being so stupid.