A/N: This Christmas fic is over a day late and a dollar short, but here it is. Songfic centered on The Waitresses classic "Christmas Wrapping," grad school AU. Total SoMa, quickly penned. Complete Fluff Eater. No warnings other than for it being silly and crappy. As a final note-my resbang offering, World Without End, is now up. It is a complete Soul Eater post-apocalyptic UA. I would love to hear what people think!

Christmas Wrapping

"Bah, humbug!" No, that's too strong
'Cause it is my favorite holiday
But all this year's been a busy blur
Don't think I have the energy

To add to my already mad rush
Just 'cause it's 'tis the season.
The perfect gift for me would be
Completions and connections left from

Last year, ski shop,
Encounter, most interesting.
Had his number but never the time
Most of [the year] passed along those lines.

A year and a half earlier, she had been looking forward to grad school, to getting out of her father's house and moving across the country, to having a TA and teaching her own college class, to learning everything there was to know about Victorian literature.

A year and a half earlier, she had been out of her bloody mind.

It turned out that her TA wasn't quite enough to make ends meet, so on top of teaching a writing class of 25 students each semester and taking three graduate classes, Maka also worked evenings part time at a local bookstore. During the summer, she took up a position waitressing while continuing her bookstore gig and doing independent research. What all this translated into was having barely enough time to do what had to be done in any given day, certainly not enough time to sleep, let alone date. Even still, there had been that boy last winter break, that boy she just couldn't shake from her thoughts no matter how much time passed.

It had been during winter break. When she should have been catching up on sleep or working extra hours or maybe reading and researching ahead for her courses the following semester, Maka had been dragged skiing by her best friend, Tsubaki.

Tsubaki was a nice girl and a good friend, tall and beautiful and foreign. She and Maka had met at a graduate student orientation faire and hit it off instantly. Since Tsubaki didn't have an apartment yet and Maka was looking for a roommate, they'd decided to move in together. It worked out well; Tsubaki was a superb cook, and since her family was entirely funding her linguistics degree abroad, she had much more time on her hands to do domestic things than Maka did; she didn't work because she didn't have to.

Maka supposed that her own ridiculous situation was really a choice, that she could also have her life funded, but the thought of taking so much as another dime from her cheating asshole of a dad was anathema, so she worked her ass off to do it all herself and hardly had room to breathe as a consequence.

When Tsubaki had approached her about the ski trip, Maka balked. She didn't have time, needed to catch up. But Tsubaki didn't want to take no for an answer; It would be fun, she insisted, Maka needed a break, she pleaded. Finally, she'd leveled with her—she kind of, sort of had a crush on this hot guy from the Phys Ed program who was kind of sort of also going on this GSA sponsored ski trip, and she really, really didn't want to go alone.

So Maka had gone; her roommate did far too much for her to refuse such a direct plea. Not really in the mood to ski (not to mention never having been and not having the first clue how to do it,) and really needing to get ahead, she had brought a pile of books, intending to spend most of the time with her nose in one of them. The main lodge was a combination ski shop, restaurant, front desk, and warming lounge. Maka took a seat in one of the big leather chairs next to the snow boot display and dove into one of the critical works assigned for next semester—Foucault's History of Sexuality. It was fascinating and convoluted and she found herself furrowing her brow in frustration as she worked through it.

"You know," a gravely voice surprised her, "if you keep making that face, it'll freeze that way."

Her gaze shot up. Not two feet in front of her, a man was crouched in jeans and the most ridiculous, rainbow, flower patterned sweater she had ever seen. He had a shock of messy white hair, and at first, Maka thought he must be very old, but his face was young and his eyes a piercing red. Those eyes were looking straight at her, clearly amused.

"Nice sweater," she offered back, annoyed at the interruption, even if the interruption had been made by an odd yet freakishly good looking young man.

He colored very slightly and made a face in response.

"I know, right? Star really outdid himself this time. Teach me to make a bet with that asshole."

"Star? As in Brandon Starkey?"

"Mmmhmmm—the resident fitness nut. And just plain all around nut. You're his date's friend, right Bookworm? She said you'd be over here somewhere, asked me to give you a message." His tone sounded bored.

"Which is?" She raised an eyebrow.

He cleared his throat. "'Get out and live a little—the books will still be there when we get back!'" The boy had put on a falsetto in an attempt to imitate her friend, and though it sounded nothing like Tsubaki's voice, it caught the cadence of her accent fairly well and Maka laughed.

"She would say that. Well, tough. Coming here doesn't mean I have to play third wheel to her and Baron Von Dumbass."

"She thought you might say something like that. So she suggested that I could keep you company, since right now, I'm the one playing third wheel to her and said dumbass."

"And why would you want to do a thing like that?" Both eyebrows shot up this time.

"Because I'm bored? Because I lost a bet to a sadist that involved slavery for a day, which is why I'm stuck here to begin with? Because you are kind of cute? Take your pick." He said that last part hurriedly, sounding almost nervous in spite of his still bored expression and cool façade.

"Alright," she closed the book, stuffing it in a messenger bag full of others like it, before getting up and slinging said bag over her shoulder.

"Really?" He looked surprised, but not displeased.

"Yep. May as well before she sends her date to bother me instead of you. I'm Maka, by the way." She smiled brightly at him, holding out her hand. Spending the day with a good-looking boy who had a sense of humor really didn't sounds like a terrible thing.

"Soul," he replied, taking the hand firmly in his and flashing a grin full of fearsomely sharp teeth. She had to wrench her gaze from his mouth to his eyes to keep from staring they were so strange and frightening and fascinating.

"Alright, where to, Soul?" she tilted her head inquisitively.

"Lunch sounds good, if you're game. I'm freaking starving."

"Lunch it is."

And together, they'd made their way to the restaurant area of the lounge.

They spent not only that day together, but the two others they stayed at the lodge, sometimes with Star and Tsubaki, sometimes not. He taught her to ski, which he was quite skilled at, and they discussed the woes of grad life. It turned out he was earning his MM in music at the same university she attended, and like her, was working his way through school, teaching a class as a TA and giving music lessons at night. Star was his roommate and, like her, Soul had been dragged along fairly unwillingly. Maka found herself liking him almost in spite of her inclination to reject what was clearly a set up on the part of both of their friends, and by the end of the trip, they exchanged cell numbers and hoped to get together again soon, though it hadn't actually happened.

So deck those halls, trim those trees
Raise up cups of Christmas cheer,
I just need to catch my breath,
Christmas by myself this year.

It was nearly a year later, now, as she prepared her Christmas Eve dinner, nearly a year and nothing had come of that weekend. This night was the first she had to breathe in some time, the first she had to think, and she couldn't help her regrets as she prepared the repast for the evening. Tsubaki was off with Star, both having returned to Japan to spend the holiday with their families, their relationship now quite serious, and Maka was alone. Well, there were worse things. Even still, she kept thinking about how she wished things could have gone a bit differently.

Calendar picture, frozen landscape,
Chilled this room for twenty-four days,
Evergreens, sparkling snow
Get this winter over with!

Flashback to springtime, saw him again,
Would've been good to go for lunch,
Couldn't agree when we were both free,
We tried, we said we'd keep in touch.

She didn't have time to contact him, had almost forgotten about him when out of the blue, three months later, she saw him waiting in line for morning coffee. The line was long, stretching around the building, so when he'd motioned her to stand next to him a dozen people ahead, she had accepted gratefully.

"Hi there," he smiled at her as she approached.

"Hi Soul!" she responded brightly. "It's been awhile."

"I know," he frowned just slightly. "Just damned busy, you know?"

She sighed in response. "Trust me, I know."

"So how's the semester?"

"Not bad. My Late Eighteenth-century professor is really gung-ho about Foucault, so that's been interesting. And my Victorian survey professor is into word-image, so I'm writing my seminar paper on Salome this time around, also interesting. If only I didn't work so much, I might actually have time to enjoy it all."

"I feel you," he sighed back. "Seems like all I do is practice, write, read, teach, or study. Be nice to just relax once in blue fucking moon."

"Mmmmhmmm," she agreed. "Well, there's always summer!" Her laugh was a bit forced. Seeing him again reminded her of just how well they'd hit it off, but she had absolutely no wiggle room in her schedule and it irked her. She almost suggested trying to catch a meal together, but it seemed like it would be difficult, so they had bought their coffees (he insisted on paying for both, much to her chagrin, just offering that sharp smile of his and suggesting she could get it next time,) and both had run off to the respective classes that they were already going to be late for.

That night, he texted her just one word: Lunch?

She texted back that she would love to because she really would, but finding a time that would work for both of them seemed impossible, so they had finally given up and promised to keep in touch. Well, it wouldn't be the first promise either had broken in their short lifetimes.

Didn't, of course, 'til summertime,
Out to the beach to his boat could I join him?
No, this time it was me,
Sunburn in the third degree.

Maka had wanted to say yes, she really, truly had. Soul called her this time: his family had a boat on the lake and he was thinking they could spend the day there together. It was his first day off from both his summer job at the music store and teaching students in weeks, and he'd love to get together. Maka didn't have the day off, but that wasn't why she'd said no. She had had her own first day off in weeks the day before. Tsubaki had dragged her to the same lake and she'd forgotten sunscreen like an idiot and had absolutely fried. So, embarrassed, she refused the invitation, wishing she could have said yes. She even would have called into work—he had been on her mind since summer began and his call was her highlight for weeks.

Now the calendar's just one page
And, of course, I am excited
Tonight's the night, but I've set my mind
Not to do too much about it.

Merry Christmas! Merry Christmas!
But I think I'll miss this one this year.

Hardly dashing through the snow
Cause I bundled up too tight
Last minute have-to-do's
A few cards a few calls
'Cause it's r-s-v-p
No thanks, no party lights
It's Christmas Eve, gonna relax
Turned down all of my invites.

She'd spent earlier that day running errands—bought groceries, made a few last minute phone calls, and finally home, she could relax a bit. Now, reflecting, she was glad she had decided to spend Christmas alone. She had almost called him, but chickened out. Surely he had better things to do, family of his own, friends he wanted to see. Plus, the truth was, she really, really needed the time to catch her breath. The idea of an evening alone, with nothing more to do but cook a meal and eat it, was true bliss.

Last fall I had a night to myself,
Same guy called, halloween party,
Waited all night for him to show,
This time his car wouldn't go,

Forget it, it's cold, it's getting late,
Trudge on home to celebrate
In a quiet way, unwind
Doing Christmas right this time.

They had actually kept in touch after that, at least a little. They exchanged the occasional email or text, usually joking about students or customers or professors or grad life in general. They also vented a bit to each other. Sometime they would shoot texts back and forth for hours, then wouldn't be in contact for days or weeks. Occasionally, getting together came up, but it seemed impossible to make it work. Then, out of the blue in October, he'd asked if she was free for Halloween and she'd responded with a resounding yes.

Cool. He had texted back. Star is dragging me to this lame party. Gotta wear a costume. Come with?

Sure. What should we dress as?

Your choice.

So they had fixed the costumes—she decided they should go as Black Widow and Hawkeye, which he seemed fine with—and a pick up time, and she had put together both costumes excitedly, getting his measurements and making some of the pieces herself, then waited in her own costume with baited breath. And waited. And waited.

Around four in the morning, she got a text—she had fallen asleep by then, but she read it a few hours later: Bike shit out on me on the way. Really sorry. Had to walk miles home with dead cell. You must hate me.

No, she didn't hate him, but she gave up hope that they'd ever really connect again—the universe clearly had other plans.

A&P has provided me
With the world's smallest turkey
Already in the oven, nice and hot
Oh damn! Guess what I forgot?

So on with the boots, back out in the snow
To the only all-night grocery,
When what to my wondering eyes should appear
In the line is that guy I've been chasing all year!

Aw, hell. She couldn't believe she'd forgotten it. Mama had always insisted on cranberry sauce with turkey and Maka couldn't bring herself to eat the fowl without the stuff. It just didn't feel right.

Well, there was nothing for it—she'd have to go back out. It was cold and shitty and the only all night store open Christmas Eve was two miles away on the main road, but she just couldn't bring herself to forego the tradition, so she bundled back up and made the slow, arduous trek through the snow. The place was surprisingly crowded for a snowy Christmas Eve, and it took Maka several minutes to navigate the aisles and find her prized cranberries before making her way into the ridiculously long line. Clearly, this was going to take awhile. Could nothing go right this year?

And then, suddenly, something had, because she caught a shock of white hair two people behind her. At first, she thought it must be an old man, but as he turned, she realized that it was Soul—her Soul. He caught sight of her the same instant and his eyes widened in surprise. She instantly let the two people between them go ahead of her to stand next to him. Now, this was interesting.

"I'm spending this one alone," he said.
"Need a break; this year's been crazy."
I said, "Me too, but why are you?
You mean you forgot cranberries too?"

Then suddenly we laughed and laughed
Caught on to what was happening
That Christmas magic's brought this tale
To a very happy ending! "

It was almost unbelievable, yet there they were, both alone for Christmas. So Maka invited him to share her turkey (and cranberries, of course!), and Soul agreed, putting back the crappy frozen meal he had planned to eat in favor of her offer. He'd insisted on taking her back on his now working bike, and she had agreed with only slight reluctance (those things were death traps!). The night had been perfect—they ate dinner and wound down, talking on the couch, falling asleep curled up together as the Christmas Story marathon played in the background.

The next morning was also perfect, especially the time they finally spent in bed, as was the next and the one after that. Both called into work for the next few days—hadn't they earned this break together?—and upon discussing their respective roommates' plans to move in together, as they were each now in the market for new roommates, they decided to do the same.

So maybe it had taken most of a year to make it happen, but it was worth it, and neither of them ever looked back.

Merry Christmas! Merry Christmas!
Couldn't miss this one this year!