Title: ode to a cliche
Summary: Maka Albarn was never one to bow to pressure.
Pairing: MakaKid
Length: 894
Author: Pippin!
A/N: Wow. Finally got back to Kid, it was only a matter of time! Sorry about the relatively random updates, I am currently in the middle of my exams so my updates will be slower. Fierce is epic and can write like the wind so she'll probably trounce me. Also, to everyone who wanted KidMaka, we give you MakaKid. It's the same thing except Maka is wearing the pants. I left it an open ender otherwise I would have written a glorious tale about evil cliches and bad destiny but alas, if you want that we'll do it later. Also, I blame James. He knows why.

When Death the Kid answered the door at 2am he certainly did not expect to see a flustered Maka Albarn on the other side.

In fact, when he opened the door at 2am he didn't even expect to see anyone on the other side – victim once again to Black Star's knock-door-run scheme, so he was momentarily caught off guard as the panting meister glared at him from his porch.

Glancing at the sky he briefly checked for flying pigs, there was surely a law thatMaka Albarn never left her apartment without Soul. He was like her handbag, a piano playing part scythe handbag that she never left home without chaining to her hip.

"Can I help you?" He asked far too politely for a man who had just had his beauty sleep interrupted.

"Why?" She asked unexpectedly, he blinked.

"Why am I helping you? Why did I answer the door? Why am I cursed with asymmetry? You are going to have to narrow it down a bit Maka," She frowned and invited herself in, barging past with a rather uncomfortable elbow to his gut.

"Why did you look so surprised to see me?!"

"Well, this is night time Maka," he began slowly; "most people are sleeping." She seemed even more infuriated by his answer for some unfathomable reason she he tried again, "because you left the house without Soul?"

"See!" She suddenly wailed and Kid assumed he'd hit the nail on the head and would hopefully get back to his symmetrical dreams soon.

"Not really."

"Do you believe in fate Kid?" she queried unpredictably, tonight was definitely a night for getting caught of guard he mused.

"You aren't going to go introspective on me are you? Because I get enough of that from Black Star and Tsubaki…" she thumped him on both arms, understanding that he clearly wouldn't be able to go on if only one arm was bruised.

"My mama and papa were weapon and meister! Black Star and Tsubaki are weapon and meister, Marie and Stein…do you understand?"

"That our lives are caught in a never-ending sitcom?"

"No! I'm doomed!" Surely they were exactly the same thing? "Soul and I are next! Don't you get it? I hate clichés!" Kid didn't really understand what was so distressing about the whole situation, Soul was nice – a bit of a temperamental runaway but still nice and what any of this had to do with him he'd never understand.

"I don't quite-"

"I don't want to end up like Mama and Papa! I don't want to submit to the pressure!" Kid frowned and tried to picture a 30 year old Soul lurking round in strip clubs crying about Maka and flirting with everything with a pulse…

He started laughing.

"Something funny Kid?!"

"Honestly Maka you're overreacting! It's not that bad." She looked at him like he'd just told her that symmetry was totally over-rated.

"Mama and Papa don't talk anymore, Marie and Stein are perfectly happy and Black Star and Tsubaki are planning on getting married…married." She spat the word like it was a bad tasting confection.

"And this is bad…how?"

"Nobody wants happy Kid!?"

"They don't?" She pulled her hair in frustration and Kid felt his fingers twitch, her bunches were asymmetrical.

"No!" she roared "You know what happy really means?!"

"Happy: feeling or showing pleasure, contentment or joy, causing or characterised by pleasure, feeling satisfied that-" she waved his perfect, dictionary definition answer away with a wild flailing of her arms, now her clothes were asymmetrical. This was turning into a nightmare.

"No! It means boring." He stared at her ruined symmetry for a few seconds before registering her speech.

"No it doesn't." he answered petulantly.

"Yes. Yes it does. Its predictable, boring and nothing like what a girl wants in life!" Perhaps, Kid thought as Maka continued ranting; this was one of those 'female things' that Liz often talked about and since he wasn't a 'womb carrier' he'd never get it.

"Where's the excitement if I end up doing exactly what everyone expects me to do?!" she finished, crossing her arms across her chest as if waiting for his retort.

"I fail," he began slowly "to see what any of this has to do with me."

"You are exactly what everyone's not expecting me to go for." She answered with a cat like smirk, "you're arrogant, smarmy, compulsive, totally ruled by regulations, rich, boring, a god and you are quite possibly asexual."

"..I am not boring." He mumbled half heartedly in retort.

"Kid you're idea of fun is re-organising cabinets and measuring candles." He conceded she did have a point. "Don't you see Kid? We're horrific for one another!" she beamed at him from across the coffee table, her logic hurt his brain.

"I don't-"

"In order to defy clichés we must all make sacrifices," she cut him off solemnly, as if quoting from a deeply religious text, then abruptly started smiling again. He'd need a score card for this one; also her hair was still a mess…

"So Kid, how do you feel about trampling destiny?"