See, it went faster that time. Don't be mad. Be glad. MERRY CHRISTMAS!

"Maka," I said, struggling to untangle myself from the sheets and Maka. She rolled over and groaned.

"Yeah, um-what?" I asked, more in a generalized since that asking what she said. She turned her head to face me.

"What do you mean, 'What'?" She asked, rubbing her eyes and sitting up next to me. I rubbed my chin and rested my hands against my cheek.

"What um—what?" I asked again, unable to rephrase the statement. I figure she'll just start explaining something, and something else will make sense. That's usually the way it works with her.

"Look—" She paused to sit up, "after 6 years of being you're partner, doing the same dance over and over and over again, it's nice to—" she paused again, the words to complete her statement failing. She licked her lips and attempted to continue, "—to finally have a change in pace." I blinked at her for a few seconds. So that made almost LESS sense than before.

"Change in pace? So going from a—a dysfunctional friendship to SEX is a nice change in pace?" I said incredulously, still keeping my voice low. She simply shrugged, grabbing my robe off the bedpost before standing up.

"I'm surprised you're the one who's up in arms about this," she noted coyly, getting ready to leave the room. I ran my hand through my hair.

"I'm surprised you're the one who's so willing. I mean—you're Maka. If anyone would be afraid of commitment, it'd be you." I was skating on thin ice. I wasn't sure what else to say, to make her realize why I was so confused, I guess, but that didn't seem like the right thing. She turned around slowly to face me again.

"This isn't committing, Soul," She spoke softly, but her lips enunciated every word. She shut her eyes and took a deep breathe, walking slowly back over to the bed and sitting back down, her light weight barely making a difference.

"Look, I—I don't want to talk about this. At least not now—not while we're still at the academy, while we still HAVE to be close. We're trapped, Soul, whether we want to be or not. If this is the only thing that can happen without the possibility of tension, then so be it. That's just what's going to happen," she concluded, looking at the loose seam she had found on the sheets rather than me. I sucked in air, then breathed out slowly. She was still wearing my robe, and it was gigantic on her; the hand that wasn't playing with the seam was completely buried in the other sleeve and therefore not visible. I sighed before speaking.

"So be it. I know I started this, and honestly, I have no intention of finishing it with this discussion. Just wanted to understand a little. Maybe, um…" I trailed off, tapping my chin for dramatic effect, "…ground rules?"

Maka chuckled and looked up at me, a grin re-inhabiting her face. She sat criss-cross on the bed now, facing me completely.

"First of all, no mention of this outside of the apartment—and ONLY between us. Don't tell anyone. Especially not Black*Star. Next, let's try to keep it at," she bit her lip, her face turning a darker shade of red, "night. And we're not gonna like, hold each other or anything any other time. No Couch-cuddling times. We are NOT a couple," She established, holding up her fingers as she counted off the rules. I was taken aback at how quickly she drew that list up, but I guess they were pretty basic.

"Then what are we?" I replied smugly. She raised her eyebrows thoughtfully and put her hands on her hips.

"Cuddle Buddies," she finally decided, nodding as she said it. I turned my head and chuckled.

"Maka, you just said we WEREN'T going to cuddle. Wouldn't, 'Friends with Benefits' be more appropriate? Why so untraditional?" I asked, resting my elbow against the head of the bed as I leaned back. She stuck her tongue out.

"Irony is fun. Besides, 'Friends with Benefits' is to mainstream." She bounced off the bed, the long robe going down almost to her ankles as she pranced out of the room.

"By the way, we're training today. So get dressed," She added, peeping her head in through the door. I smiled and nodded.

"Who needs clothes." She squinted her eyes.

"Pretend I'm smacking you're stomach right now." She swung her hand back in forth in front of her, then disappeared behind the door again.

…

"Maka," I said, blowing my hair out of my face; which was, as it were, useless, because the wind blew it right back where it was, "why here?"

She adjusted her skirt again before putting her hands on her hips and shifting her weight to one leg. "Because it's nice?" she yelled back, over the wind.

I groaned and walked closer, so I was standing next to her. "It's a green field. And it's very, very windy."

She rolled her eyes and strolled over to a large rock, me trailing behind her.

"Thanks, I didn't notice," she replied, sticking her tongue out, "I figured we should try flying close-ground, and wind resistance is what we're used to; might make things easier."

I stared at her for a minute, pretending to contemplate (because she was going to inevitably win) what she had said. Instead of thinking of an answer, I watched the way some of the hair of her pigtail got caught on her shoulder, and didn't fly back with the others—which were like a ribbon tied to a 1960s air conditioning machine in Arizona. She ran her thin fingers along her neck, freeing all the caught hairs and my eyes followed her hand back to her side. She unconsciously fiddled with a fold in the blue skirt, her gloved fingers moving quickly and in wild, yet small motions to get it to straighten. After a moment of triumph, it flipped back up and she ceased. Her eyes hadn't looked down at it once.

"Yeah," I said, shaking myself out of my thoughts, "Yeah, I guess that's fine." She grinned and hopped over to me, holding her hand out.

I saw Maka's pigtails fly backwards and up for a moment before the familiar sensation came over me and I saw Maka's face through a blade-shaped light.

"You ready?" She asked, smiling at me. I closed my eyes and smirked.

"Don't say such an uncool line, Maka."

…

I blinked twice, watching her retreating form become engulfed by the shadows of the hallway.

"What?"

She turned around and came back into the light of the kitchen, yanking her gloves of roughly and setting them on the kitchen counter.

"I'm just tired today, okay? Sorry." She didn't return my gaze; didn't even look at my face. Instead, her eyes stayed steadily on Blair as she spoke, until she turned around and walked quietly back towards her room.

I shrugged. I mean—we're not a couple, why should we sleep in the same room? Yet, even though it had only been two days, it still didn't feel right to actually be GOING to sleep. I followed Maka into the hallway but turned into my room, then sat on my bed for a minute. I feel like I haven't laid down—closed my eyes—counted sheep—whatever, for almost a month. But I wasn't relieved; I felt bare. Like, the emptiness of the space next to me just didn't feel right, even if it'd only been otherwise for 2 nights.

I groaned, throwing my jacket off and flopping backwards into the bed. It's not over, Soul, get ahold of yourself. This is ridiculous. It's been one night, it can't be over yet. We just set rules, she seemed just as content about it. She's probably just tired, like she said. It was a rough day of training.

OR…she's second guessing, because she's realized—like I have—that something like this is inevitably going to fail. I mean, if it'll never work, why not cut it off early?

Look at all the statistics: I challenge you to find a single example where someone has successfully had a Friend with Benefits—ahem, Cuddle Buddy—and been perfectly satisfied with the way their relationship is long term. Someone falls for the other one, something gets to serious, someone finds someone else that they WANT to be serious with…either way, someone gets hurt or you end up romantically involved. Neither of those things includes anything a happy, platonic relationship.

Which is what Maka and I need to be.

Besides, where is this supposed to end? When? One day, do we just decide, "oh, you know, let's go back to being just friends". That seems sorta hard to do once you've taken someone's virginity.

I sighed again, rolling over to face my window. I'm clearly thinking to hard; this is only night 3. The future holds what the future holds, you know? Why not just let it happen?

…

I awoke to a sudden flick on my ear, startling me out of a world where everyone had one of those trademark smiley faces and—oh, nevermind. It was just strange. Anyways, Maka flicked my ear to wake me up.

Wait, what? Maka? I sat up quickly, rubbing my eyes and facing her.

"I thought—what?" I said, failing to notice her fully clothed (shoes and all) state until after I had spoken.

"Wake up, idiot. We have to leave for school in 20 minutes," she barked, swinging her legs to the other side of the bed and standing up (she was sitting on my bed next to me; it was really strange, for real). She adjusted one of her pigtails before continuing out the door. I blinked again.

"Well good morning to you too," I grumbled.

After changing clothes and running my fingers through my hair (What? Don't look at me like that. My fingers work perfectly fine as a brush) I slid into one of the kitchen chairs.

"What's for breakfast?" Maka turned around to look at me, apron tied around her neck and waist.

"Eggs," she replied, "but only one for each of us, because we forgot to go by the store yesterday after training." The mention of 'after training' reminded me of her face as she avoided my eyes last night, which reminded me of my thoughts again.

"R-right. Yeah. It was a rough training session, figures we forgot," I said, looking up at her face when I was finished to reveal any sort of feeling. It betrayed nothing.

"Tiring but useful," she replied, grinning as she put the chopped yellow egg on my plate. "Salt?"

I nodded without talking. If she could brush it off that easily without showing even a hint of worry or regret, than clearly it did not mean as much as my mind made it out too. I smiled into the first bite, ignoring the fact that she had poured nearly half the salt shaker onto it.

"S'very salty," I noted with my mouth full. She slapped my stomach as she walked by and sat on the other side of me.

"You're very salty."

"What does that even mean?" I asked, bemused. She paused to look at me, biting her red lips for a moment before shrugging and taking a bite of her breakfast.

"It means," she said, after swallowing, "that you are high in sodium."

Yes? No? Maybe? Let me know what you think!

Next one should be up within the week. SHOULD, don't hold a gun to my head.