She'd been spending more and more time away from the apartment. Maka would wake up before Soul in the morning, make breakfast and leave it on the counter for him, and then skip out before he was out of bed. She'd stay out late—later than she ever had before, what with her whole uptight sleep-is-essential-to-keep-up-in-school regimen. Soul couldn't help but wonder what was going on in his meister's head that had been making her act so sporadically and crazily and so utterly unlike herself. He brought this up to her once, and she'd dismissed him with a wave of her hand, saying it was nothing important. That was new. She'd never been one to blow off his questions. She hadn't even tried to come up with a weak, ill-founded excuse.

But what worried him the most was that she hadn't Maka-Chopped him once, not even for getting a nosebleed when Blair came out of the bathroom without so much as a towel to clothe herself. That was what concerned him the most. Well, that and the fact that, aside from training, she seemed to be keeping her soul wavelength under lock and key. On a tight lockdown, as it were. He could sense it while they practiced and sparred with others, and he caught a lot of unfamiliar feelings. Unfamiliar only because they came from his meister. He knew what he would call those feelings, if and when he himself had them.

Jealousy. Anxiety. Fear. That frightened him the most. Maka, his tough as nails meister, his all time best friend, did not get afraid. Or jealous. Or anxious. Or afraid.

Soul had tried to talk to her about it, but once more, she waved him off, insisting that nothing at all was wrong. But he still felt her wavelengths in training. And he still read her like an open book—not that he knew what one of those actually looked like, but the expression seemed appropriate. The tautness in her shoulders. The shadows lurking in her olive eyes. The way her lips tightened infinitesimally when her attention flickered to him. It hadn't escaped his notice, either, that she only spoke to him in short, clipped sentences, if she spoke to him at all. He had to wonder what he had done to make her behave like that. Had he done something wrong? Said something he shouldn't have?

"Still haven't figured it out with Maka yet?" Liz asked sympathetically. They were sitting at a table in the park, beneath the shade of some old oak trees, watching Pati show a bunch of little kids how to draw giraffes. Blackstar and Kid were shooting hoops on the basketball court; Tsubaki had taken Maka with her on a walk.

Soul sighed and shook his head, scowling at the green canopy above them, the sunlight seeming to make the leaves glow. A lot like Maka's eyes when she was happy. Which she rarely was, anymore. Around him, at least. He would still see her on occasion, before she was aware of his presence, talking and laughing animatedly with Harvar and Blackstar and Kid and the others. Liz gave her own sigh and sat back in her chair, arms stretched behind her.

"Maybe Tsubaki will manage to work something outa our girl," she shrugged.

Soul jerked his head in a noncommittal fashion, and Liz slid back forward on her seat, dark blue eyes flashing with compassion.

"This isn't forever, Soul," she assured him. "We all know how Maka is; she gets mad for a while—sometimes a long while—but then she finally stops, takes a breather, and figures out that staying pissed isn't doing anybody any good. She won't be mad at you forever. You guys are best friends. She'll get over it for you."

Soul didn't answer. His meister had done a pretty damn good job of staying mad so far. It'd been weeks since they'd really talked about anything more substantial than the rent on the apartment. Her eyes hadn't lost their resemblance to green steel when she looked at him; her mouth hadn't lost that tautness.

It wasn't for lack of trying, though. Soul tried and tried and damn tried to get anything out of her. He got her flowers—tiger lilies, because they reminded him of her, sweet but sharp at the same time—he made her breakfast, he cleaned the apartment without being asked. He even paid attention in class! But Maka seemed to be waiting for something else. Something he didn't have the slightest inkling of. He wanted to fix things, he really did, even though he didn't know what exactly the reason was that he needed to fix anything. But Maka…Maka just wouldn't give him the chance.

"If it makes you feel any better, Kid's been acting a little weird lately," Liz commented idly, watching as her meister made a perfect three-pointer into the basket. Blackstar exploded and started shouting something about letting Kid make that shot, because that's what a good god would do.

"He always acts weird, Liz," said Soul dismissively. She snorted.

"True, but I mean weird for him. Which is to say, almost normal."

Soul looked at her sharply. "Kid? Not possible."

Liz nodded. "Totally possible. He hasn't been freaking out over symmetry near as much; didn't even comment on the fact that there's only one, off-center steering wheel in a car this morning when he drove us down here. Hasn't even worried about the lines in his hair either. It's starting to freak me out."

Soul waved it off. "It's just Kid. He'll be back to normal soon enough."

She mumbled something incoherent, but Soul didn't bother trying to listen. Tsubaki and Maka had just appeared by the court, heads bent together as though they were sharing secrets. Soul resisted the urge to shout, or walk over there, as he would normally do, because he wouldn't risk Tsubaki finding out anything that might help unravel this mystery.

But when Tsubaki looked over there, at Soul, there was no sympathy or understanding. Her eyes were cold and hard, so unlike her usual soft, compassionate indigo gaze that Soul found himself squinting to make sure he saw correctly. Nope, her expression didn't change. Liz caught me looking and followed his gaze.

"Wonder what's got Tsubaki wired up?" Liz murmured, frowning when the tall Dark Arm waved her over emphatically, still scowling at Soul. "I'll be right back, Soul."

Two minutes later, Liz was proved a liar. She didn't come back. She stood with the other two girls, throwing Soul dark looks alongside Tsubaki while they talked about things Soul could only imagine. What had he done? What the Hell had he done to warrant such a response? He hated this—every minute where Maka didn't talk to him, where she looked at him with cold detachment, where she refused to even touch him, was agony to Soul. Couldn't she see that? Couldn't she see how she was hurting him? What. Had. He. Done?

Just before they all split up to leave, Liz slapped him and Tsubaki called him a pig. What the hell?

…

Damnit, he was tired of this. This cycle was over. He didn't care if they missed school. He was not letting Maka go anywhere until she talked to him.

Soul stood from his bed, groaning as his stiff joints popped and cracked. When he came out of the hall and into the main room, Maka was just shrugging into her coat.

"Hey, hold on a second," he said drowsily, waving at her.

She scowled at him and bent down to pull on her boots. Aggravated, Soul slouched to her side and, fingers wrapping around her tiny wrist, hauled her to her feet.

"Hey—Soul!" she snapped, trying to pull away as he towed her to the couch. He pushed her roughly down, and held her there when she tried to get up. His fingers bit into the skin of her biceps, holding her firmly where she sat.

"No, Maka, you're not going anywhere," he growled. "Not until you tell me what the Hell is going on with you lately."

Her chin jutted out in that stubborn way of hers. "I've told you—it's nothing!"

"Don't feed me that crap Maka," he snapped, getting right up in her face. "You've been treating me like a goddamn pariah for over a month. You even got Liz and Tsubaki backing you. Tsubaki! No matter what I do, you won't even tell me what's going on! If you're going to treat me like that, I at least deserve to know why!"

"Soul, we need to get to scho—"

"I don't give a damn about school," he interrupted. "We are not going anywhere until this issue is taken care of. You've spent enough time dancing around it, and I've spent way more than enough time myself walking on eggshells trying to make you happy. You are going to tell me what the fuck is going on, even if we have to stay here for a week." By the end of this, his eyes stung and the back of his throat ached. How uncool, he muttered to himself. But his meister was worth more than his "cool" image.

She looked at him, really, truly looked, and Soul saw that steely gaze soften just a little. Well, that was something.

"You really don't know, do you?" she said quietly after a long moment.

"Not a clue," he let out a broken chuckle. "Not a single damn idea."

Maka heaved a great sigh and slumped back against the couch; Soul cautiously released his hold on her, relieved when she didn't bolt, and settled himself down beside her. Hesitantly Soul took her hand, and relaxed further when she didn't pull away.

"C'mon, Maka, I'm your partner," Soul sighed, rubbing circles on the back of her hand with his thumb. "You can talk to me if something's wrong."

There was a long pause. Then, without looking at him, Maka spoke softly.

"I saw you."

Soul frowned, bemused. "You saw me what?"

"I saw you with Jackie."

He stiffened. Ah…

"But…Why…"

Maka snorted.

"I didn't like seeing it. I really didn't like seeing my partner sucking face with one of the most superficial girls at the Academy."

Soul ran a hand through his hair, relieved that he had a truthful explanation for that one. Thank Death.

"Yeah, well, it didn't do much for me, either, Maka."

She gave him a sharp look.

"It didn't?" He shook his head. "Then why were you—"

"Blame Blackstar," he grumbled. "Truth-or-dare is dangerous with him. It was better than the alternative, though. Only a fool plays that with Blackstar."

"Truth or dare?" The relief in Maka's voice was undisguised. "That's why you kissed Jackie?"

Soul shuddered.

"Yeah, and I will never do that again. She drools way too much; it's really gross."

Maka slapped her hand over her mouth to muffle the giggle that escaped her lips. Soul squeezed her hand gently; she squeezed back, and he smiled for the first time in weeks. He pulled her toward him, wrapping an arm around her waist and tucking her against his side.

"Is that really all that was bugging you?" Soul inquired, breath ruffling her hair.

"Well…yeah," she said sheepishly. He chuckled and kissed her forehead; he heard her sharp intake of breath and smiled against her skin.

"Why'd it bother you so much?"

Maka stiffened and squirmed, but he only tightened his hold on her.

"Soul, we're already late for class. We should get going."

"Nope, better truant than tardy. And I told you, we were staying here til you told me what the problem was. I'm waiting."

And he was. With baited breath, as it were.

She muttered a string of profanities that were very foreign coming from her innocent mouth. Finally, though, she gave up her anger and slumped back against his side. Soul smirked triumphantly.

"Well?"

"It…made me feel…a little…" she grumbled, trailing off and muttering unintelligibly. Soul though it was more profanity.

"A little…" he prompted.

"…Jealous," she bit off, and smacked him hard when he laughed. "Shut up, Soul!"

That only made him laugh harder. For about two seconds. Then his laugh turned into a pained grunt.

"Ow!" he exclaimed, jerking the travel book from his head and tossing it aside. "Jeez, relax Maka, I'm messing with you!"

She huffed, but allowed him to draw her back to his side.

"Jealousy's pretty uncool, though," he mused, and caught her wrist just before another tome that looked suspiciously like War and Peace found a home in his skull. "Hey, whoa, again, messing with you."

"Cut it out Soul, it's not funny. It's embarrassing," she grumbled. He tightened his hold on her.

"How?"

"Do you even know how much crap I've gotten from the girls for liking my weapon? In more than a platonic way," she added when he opened his mouth to object. He fell silent, staring at her for such a long time she had to wonder if there was something on her face.

"Uhm, Soul? Something wr—" she cut herself off with a surprised squeal.

Just this morning, Maka had been determined to forget thinking about Soul in any way but as her weapon. She had been convinced he'd kissed Jackie to spite her, because she'd said, in a fit of anger, that no girl with half a brain would ever have anything to do with Soul.

But there she was now, with Soul Eater Evans pressing his lips to hers. He glided over her mouth, slid down her jaw to her chin, kissed the spot just below her lips, and then returned to starting point. His hands pulled her closer, landing her in a position where she straddled his lap, and she didn't care. She let his arms wrap around her waist, just as she let her hands tangle in his mass of snow white hair. His mouth slanted over hers, gently prying her own lips apart. She obliged, not really knowing why, but—!

The tip of Soul's tongue traced her lower lip, then her upper one, then dove past them. She gasped at the ten-times foreign feeling of her partner's tongue in her mouth, but she didn't pull back. There was something to the way his tongue stroked her own that was oddly provocative, something Maka was not known for being nor feeling. But that sensation, that truly odd and amazing feeling of their mouths merging entirely, started a hot, blazing fire inside her. She pulled him closer and kissed him back, exulting in the fire, stoking it, spreading it.

She felt Soul grin against her lips, and before she knew how, she was pinned to the couch, him laying on top of her, still kissing her with a feverish intensity.

When they finally parted, both were breathing heavily. Maka was flushed. Both pairs of eyes were hooded and glazed over. Soul was propped up on his forearms, looking down at Maka with a huge grin, very reminiscent of a shark.

"You're the only person for me, Maka," he murmured, brushing his fingers across her cheek in a gesture so gentle, it just didn't seem natural for Soul to be using. "No one else is cool enough for me."

She smiled in spite of herself and hugged Soul to her, burying her face in his chest. Soul rolled so that he wouldn't crush her and wrapped his arms around her, one hand playing with a pigtail in her hair.

"Y'know," he said idly. "You should wear your hair down more often. It looks cooler. Plus, pigtails only work til you're ten. And you are not ten."

"I know I'm not ten!" she said indignantly. "And I really don't care. Pigtails keep my hair out of my face.

"So would a ponytail, or a braid," he pointed out, laughing when she pinched his stomach. "Hey, easy there."

There was a moment of comfortable silence. Then something occurred to Maka.

"Soul?"

"Mm?"

"What was the alternative? To kissing Jackie?"

He chuckled and rumpled her hair.

"Telling you how I felt."

She flushed a deep shade of crimson. Instead of responding to that, she leaned up, and met Soul's lips with hers in a heated kiss.

Outside, peering in one of the windows, Blackstar grinned evilly.

Well, I hope that was to your liking ^_^ I really enjoyed writing this one; I hope you enjoyed reading it as well. R&R please!