PART THREE: October "Girls Chase Boys"
Halloween was, had always been, and would always be Maka's favourite holiday. It wasn't tainted by the Hallmark messages that were too cheesy or obnoxious, or by a desperate rush of shoppers flooding the roads; it just had free candy and a surplus of competitive party games and costume parades. Maka would deny it if ever outright accused, but one of the main reasons she had accepted a job at Grigori Solutions rather than their main competitor, Gorgon Industries, was their notorious themed holiday parties. She could put up with Thanksgiving and Christmas if Halloween was half of what she'd expected.
The office had been abuzz for weeks now with rumours of what the party would entail this year. The only thing anyone seemed to know for sure was that it would be held on the main floor where Maka worked. It made sense and hardly counted as news, considering it was the largest open space the company had in the building and it contained the conference room. As the thirty-first crept ever closer and more and more mysterious boxes of decorations began to arrive, it took all of Maka's willpower not to peek inside them as she signed for the deliveries. Her boss, Marie Mjolnir, was unusually present and spirited them away to her locked office with nothing more than a knowing smirk and a wink.
Maka sighed as she surveyed her closet sourced costume in the bathroom mirror. She'd decided to go as Buffy the Vampire Slayer when she found an old pair of red pleather pants from high school buried deep behind her formal dresses. A black tank top, silver cross, and boots weren't hard to find. All she had to do to her hair was try and get her bangs to part more to the side, but if that failed, she could always channel the season one hair style instead. It wasn't a bad effort, all things considered. So far, everyone actually seemed to know who she was. Well, Liz and Marie recognized her for the teen slayer at least. Usually she would go all out, her biggest spend of the year being Halloween, but she just couldn't manage that this year. Business school was expensive, and if she wanted to study full time and support herself, she had to buckle down now and build up her savings. Still, she'd made the wooden stake herself, from real wood too, so that was something impressive. Maybe she'd still have a chance at some kind of costume prize.
"Oi, Slayer, get in here. People are arriving." Liz's voice carried down the corridor and through the bathroom door, shortly followed by the sounds of the Monster Mash.
Maka flicked her bangs to the side one more time before giving up and letting them settle where they wanted, a wide smile spreading across her face as she headed out and into the party. Fancy costume or not, this was her night.
An hour and a half later and Maka found herself leaning against the refreshments table with Liz, or Black Canary, as she was dressed tonight. Marie fussed around them, a vision as Elizabeth Swann circa Dead Man's Chest. It came as a surprise to no one that Marie had opted for a pirate costume. After a laser eye surgery gone wrong in her youth, she had covered the damaged eye with a patch.
"You know, if it weren't for her rampant domesticity, we'd make quite the terrifying trio." Liz smirked over her punch.
Maka chuckled, "I'm pretty sure we're terrifying under normal circumstances."
Liz shrugged. "All the fake leather adds something that a pencil skirt can't quite achieve."
Before Maka could reply, the music cut out mid song to be replaced by the Game of Thrones theme. The front door slammed open and Maka cringed at the sound, hoping the doorknob hadn't damaged the wall. If it had, it was her problem to fix tomorrow. Beside her, Liz buckled over laughing.
"I can't believe he did it!"
Maka turned her attention to the pair making the dramatic entrance. Looking incredibly pleased with himself in front of such a large audience was Bart "Black*Star" Saunders, scantily clad, with a long fake braid hanging down his back. The costume was so haphazardly put together that if it wasn't for Tsubaki by his side dressed similarly but with a toy dragon perched on her shoulder and a white blonde wig, even with the music Maka never would have guessed Black*Star intended to be Khal Drogo.
"Ox said he wouldn't orchestrate an entrance song for Black*Star unless he was willing to cough up a hundred bucks. I can't believe that loser actually did it." Liz clapped enthusiastically with the rest of the room as the theme song transitioned back to the regular party playlist.
Maka's leaned around Liz to look towards the makeshift DJ station. Wondering how smug Ox looked right now on a scale of the Diet Coke incident to redirecting all of her calls for a week. However, it wasn't Ox behind the set up.
"No fucking way," Maka hissed, annoyance settling in her stomach with Marie's power packed party punch.
"What?" Liz followed her gaze and dissolved into cackling.
Orchestrating Black*Star's obnoxious entrance was none other than Soul Evans completely threatening his and Maka's tentative truce by being dressed up as Spike from Buffy the Vampire Slayer. His white blonde hair was slicked back with a ridiculous amount of gel and he was dressed head to toe in black, including Spike's signature floor length coat. Even though there was no way he could have known what she intended to go as, Maka found herself prickling. He did know that she liked Buffy. They'd had a lightning round of obscure Buffy trivia three weeks ago over coffee! Okay, maybe that wasn't entirely fair, but that didn't seem to matter so much when he was making her costume seem a weak attempt in comparison.
"I'm gonna kill him," she huffed.
"Well, that is your job now I guess." Liz managed to maintain an even tone before bursting out in laughter again. "Then again, I suppose that's not exactly how it wound up going down on the show is it…"
Before Maka could tell her friend exactly where she could take her suddenly religious adherence to canon, Tsubaki interrupted.
"Your costumes look fantastic!"
Maka sighed and regained her composure, fixing a bright smile to her face. "Hi, Tsubaki. Your costume looks fantastic too."
"It was Bart's idea." She blushed.
"Sounds like a salacious story," Liz leaned in to hear better and Maka rolled her eyes. She'd heard more than enough of these salacious stories to last a lifetime.
"Oh no, nothing like that. It was quite romantic really."
Liz quirked an eyebrow and Tsubaki blushed under her scrutiny.
"Well maybe it was also a little like that, but enough about me! Maka, you make a perfect Buffy!"
Maka scrunched up her nose. "I'm beginning to wish I'd gone as something else."
Tsubaki looked confused for a moment before she caught sight of Soul.
"Oh Maka, I thought you guys had made up!"
If made up meant occasionally debating TV shows over coffee or actually having someone willing to solve her IT problems for the first time since she started working here, then sure, technically they had made up. Maybe they'd even qualify as friends by some standards. This, however, was pushing it.
"That was before he hijacked my costume!" Maka hissed.
"Maka, don't be ridiculous, he's well within his rights to come as whoever he wants. And really, it's not like he has many options unless he wants to wear a wig or dye his hair," Liz rationalised.
"Tsubaki is wearing a wig! Black*Star is wearing a wig!"
Maka followed Soul with narrowed eyes as he moved around the room towards Black*Star, presumably to collect whatever reward he was owed for removing Ox to achieve that grand entrance.
"Maka, you're too competitive. No one's going to judge your costumes against each other," Tsubaki laughed and reached for a cup of punch.
"I think she's more worried about being entered into the couples' category." Liz smirked.
Of course it was that moment that Soul's eyes caught hers, offering her a small smile and a wave. Maka glared at him and hefted her stake, moving it in a staking motion as a silent but clear warning. Soul's eyebrows shot up and he crossed his arms. A scowl formed on his face and he bared his teeth to her. They were unusually pointed to begin with, but he had also added individual fake fangs over his incisors to highlight his look. Maka's grip tightened around her stake and behind her Liz and Tsubaki giggled into their punch.
"It's not funny!" Maka spun around to chastise them. She and Soul had only just started to be more like friends than foes. She didn't want that further complicated, not when she'd finally started getting tech support and a reliable coffee break companion.
"You're right, it's hilarious! Aww c'mon Maka, we won't let the big, scary, fake vampire ruin your night. Just drink your punch."
Maka finished her cup in one gulp, incredibly glad that it was empty when Black*Star appeared behind her, picked her up and swung her over his shoulder.
"Another slave for the Khalasar!" Black*Star cackled.
"Put me down you idiot!" Her world upside down, Maka beat at his back and kicked at his front. It didn't seem to have any effect.
"Black*Star, you really should," Tsubaki warned, all too aware of Maka's strength and how it had gotten her banned from boxing at the local gym.
"Does this mean that the great and powerful slayer has met her match?" Black*Star made no move to put her down.
Calling on her old cheerleading days, Maka shifted her weight so her legs kicked over his head, successfully flipping into a perfect landing right side up with her feet planted on the ground. Muscle memory working ahead of her admittedly woozy head, her stake hand flung upwards in a punch for the landing pose and struck something hard.
"Again!?" A husky voice exclaimed.
Maka spun on her heel. Standing right behind her and clutching his nose was Soul the IT traitor. She had hit him with the blunt end of her stake. He didn't seem to be bleeding, but was glaring down at her fiercely, hands over his nose, looking more in character than he could have dreamed.
"Sorry?" Maka tried.
"Thought we were cool now," he muttered, lowering his hands.
Maka shrugged, smile playing at the corners of her mouth. "That was before you co-opted my costume idea."
He looked her up and down and quirked an eyebrow. "What do you mean? Aren't you Britney Spears?"
"Uh oh," Liz goaded with a wicked smirk.
"Britney Spears?" Maka repeated incredulously. No way did he just say that.
A smile tugged at the corner of Soul's mouth. He was mocking her. Well, two could play at that game. Maka gripped her stake tighter and pointed it at him, letting the wood rest against his leather clad chest.
"Want to guess again?"
He smirked down at her, open mouthed, letting his fake fangs show. "I will know your blood, Slayer. I will make your neck my chalice, and drink deep."
His voice was dark, with the hint of a fake accent he wasn't confident enough to commit to, his final sentence dripping from his mouth like fake blood down an actress' neck. It sent a shiver down Maka's spine and not entirely for the right reasons. Still, she wasn't about to let him win an unofficial rematch of their trivia competition. She knew the episode, the line, and exactly what happened to Spike after he said it. She smirked up at him, purposely ignoring the giggles of their spectating friends.
"Try not to fall into any open graves on your way out of my face."
Maybe it was the party lighting, or the punch, or the recent blood rush to her head, but his eyes almost seemed to twinkle down at her. A flash went off in her peripheral vision, breaking the moment.
"Awesome shot guys! Love the costumes! Keep up the good work." Marie smiled at them briefly before turning on Soul and shoving the camera at him.
"Now if you wouldn't mind doing the job I assigned to you."
"Sorry, ma'am."
Marie waved him off. "Just don't let me catch you slacking off again. Now, I think we'll be out of punch soon…"
She wandered off towards her office in search of more punch.
"It's because I'm the new guy, isn't it?" Soul turned to Black*Star.
"It's because you were stupid enough to put film school on your resume," Liz interjected.
"Well, it's not like I even finished it. Thought college looked good on job applications." Soul shrugged.
"The Great Black*Star doesn't care about college! Make sure you get lots of pictures of me and Tsu, that's all that matters!" Black*Star struck a ridiculous pose, pulling Tsubaki to his side.
Shaking his head, Soul turned on the camera and took the picture, the flash bright and abrasive in the dim light.
"Would you mind getting one of us girls too?" Tsubaki asked, already reaching for Maka.
"Don't put it on Facebook!"
"Chill, Maka, we promise we won't tarnish your professional image." Liz grabbed for her.
"You delete it if she does anything!" Maka pointed sternly at Soul.
Soul glanced between them, seemingly torn between who he found more threatening. Tsubaki stepped in then.
"How about one nice one and one funny one. Everyone's happy that way."
"Only if the silly one doesn't go online!"
It was all well and good for them to have silly pictures online, they already had secure jobs that they enjoyed. She still had college to finish and a highly competitive field to enter. No one was going to be impressed by her work as a personal assistant, and they'd be even less impressed if they googled her name and found photos of her partying. She wasn't sure her friends were taking her seriously enough in their tipsy state, but she could push her point more firmly later. She let them dictate a number of silly poses themed by their costumes before insisting it was time for a good one. She draped her arm around Liz's shoulder and Tsubaki took her position on Liz's other side.
"On the count of three." Soul gestured for them to bunch in together a bit more.
Maka caught his eye. He stared back at her, raising an eyebrow.
"One."
"Make it a good one!" She tried not to look too concerned, but worried that it had seeped into her voice.
He hesitated, brows furrowed before nodding to her. "Two."
Maka fixed a bright smile to her face, sent up a silent prayer that her friends weren't doing anything silly and prepared herself for the imminent flash.
"Three."
"Thanks Spike!" Liz cheered, "I guess it's a good thing someone stuck a Soul in you."
"That was bad even for you, Ms. Liz." He blushed under her scrutiny.
"Oh god Soul, would you drop the Ms., it's a party, don't be such a buzz kill. C'mon Tsubaki, I say it's time for some dancing."
"Maka?" Tsubaki held out a hand.
"I'll be over in just a sec. Go on ahead."
They disappeared into the growing number of dancing employees. Maka watched them for a moment, making note of where they'd situated themselves. She just had one thing to do before she joined them…
"Here." Soul thrust the camera into her hands.
"What?" She looked up at him curiously.
"You want to check the picture right? It's fine. They just smiled."
Maka looked down at the screen. Soul was right. It was a perfectly safe for work image, just a couple of girlfriends having some good, clean fun at an office party.
"Thanks." She handed it back to him, more than a little surprised at how much attention he had been paying to her words.
"You're pretty concerned with how other people see you, aren't you?" His tone was casual, but it was clear he was only pretending to look at the photos Marie had taken. He kept glancing at her out of the corner of his eye.
Maka bristled. "Well, it's important in business."
He scoffed. "Didn't really peg you for the corporate clone type."
Maka crossed her arms. "Well you're wrong! In Mama's family there's a long line of very successful business women. It's always been our dream."
He gave up on the camera and looked at her instead, his gaze strangely intense. "You never had another dream?"
Flustered under his scrutiny, Maka looked away. "Nothing will be better than making Mama proud. She gave up a lot to have me. She didn't have the opportunities I do."
Soul opened his mouth, but hesitated and considering his words carefully responded quietly. "Can't say I ever felt that much for my folks."
He shrugged as if to belie the implication of his statement and rubbed at the back of his neck, messing up his over gelled hair. Not sure whether she should press the matter or not, Maka took a big sip from her drink and, bolstered by liquid courage, opted for a joke.
"Well, I suppose they have been dead for centuries."
Soul groaned and nudged her shoulder. "You're as bad as Ms. Liz."
Maka nudged him back. "And you're a costume thief with a boring coffee order."
"Alright, Slayer, think maybe you could leave me alone for half an hour so I can do my job?" His tone didn't have nearly as much bite as the complaint would imply.
Maka shrugged. "You'll be back."
"If you don't start harassing me first." He smirked.
"I do not harass you!"
"So the regular demands for coffee breaks and constant misuse of the IT help chat are what then?"
"I- I do not- They're – Being friendly –"
He laughed at her. "Quit while you're ahead. I'll see you later."
Some indistinguishable time later, Maka's head was pleasantly fuzzy, her tongue just a little too heavy and her reasoning just sound enough to know that she'd be walking the few blocks home to her apartment and picking up her car from the company lot tomorrow. What her reasoning couldn't quite work out was how Soul Evans wound up joining her.
"Remind me why I'm doing this again?" Maka asked, hands thrust deep into her coat pockets.
"You've gone soft," Soul replied and turned his collar up against the chill.
"You haven't slept on my couch yet, it's super uncomfy, the worst, totally terrible!"
"I'll bet you a twenty that it beats Black*Star's sticky couch!"
Maka scoffed. Black*Star's couch may have been disgusting, but hers was quite possibly a medieval torture device reincarnated. At least it had been cheap.
"I'll take your money easy, but don't hold it against me and don't be expecting a massage in the morning."
"I think I've got better things to hold against you. Like the fact that you hit me with your car. Or that you're a giant nerd." Soul bumped his shoulder against hers lightly. At least she thinks it was intended to be lightly; they're both a little unsteady on their feet and she swayed away from him at impact.
Maka grumbled something about ungrateful ex-cons skating on very thin ice, unsure if her words were making any sense at all or were just unintelligible slurs. Her head was spinning from Marie's Halloween punch, or maybe it was the lasting effects of the flashing dance lights and deafening music. She couldn't be entirely sure; something about Soul's proximity was making everything even fuzzier. It was probably all three. Definitely the punch. Mostly the punch.
Soul laughed behind his hand. "You're drunk aren't you?"
Maka felt herself flush at the admittedly true accusation. "Well, so are you!"
"I didn't offer a massage!"
"Neither did I!" Maka was sure her face was as red as his eyes, and not because of the cold or the punch.
"And expect a massage in the morning," he imitated her in a pitchy high voice.
"I did not say that! I don't sound like that! You're being a butthead!"
"Ah c'mon, that's harsh, Albarn."
"If the butt fits… butthead."
"Well, if that's how it's gonna be! Well, then, I…I never really liked you anyways… and you have stupid hair!"
Maka stopped in her tracks to stare at him. Drunk or not, she knew her obscure Buffy quotes. "Are you… quoting Spike at me? To insult me? After I've agreed to let your drunk undead ass crash on my couch?"
Soul huffed and turned back to face her, arms crossed petulantly across his chest. "Well, if you look at the context of the scene, he's not really insulting her is he! He's just trying to act like he still doesn't care!"
Maka blinked at him, waiting for him to realise what he just insinuated.
"Aw shit." Soul smacked himself on the forehead.
"Real cool."
"Ugh, you know what I meant."
"Yeah," Maka smirked, irritation replaced with smugness. "You liiiike me. You think I'm fun to be around."
"Hey, I never said that!"
"You'd rather crash on my couch than Black*Star's, you're a giant nerd just like me, and you think I'm coooool."
"Do not!" Soul bristled and clutched his arms tighter around himself.
"No, you were nice, in your own weird way. You liiiike me. You want to be friiiiiieeends."
"Ah, you're worse than tomorrow's hangover."
Maka smiled and bounded up to him unsteadily, bumping her shoulder against his hard enough for him to stumble. "You think I'm bad, wait 'til you try to the couch."
On the bus the next morning, hiding behind sunglasses and plain coffee she had made them at home, Maka struggled to keep Soul from spilling it every time he nodded off. The fifth time it happened, she huffed and took the thermos from him.
"Oh just go to sleep already."
She was more than a little surprised when instead of protesting and demanding his coffee back, he leaned his head against her shoulder and muttered, "Thanks, friend."