A/N: This fic was written as a birthday present for Kat, aka Makapedia on tumblr, to celebrate her joining the ranks of full adulthood. She asked for the prompt "You're afraid that you'll lose me in big crowds so you always hold my hand but now you just hold my hand when there's only, like, five people around and I'm getting vry suspicious," and somehow, I managed to turn that into a crackfluffsmut Naked and Afraid AU. Sorry, Kat, you deserve better.

It's also late. I am a terrible friend.

Warning: Rated NSFW/MA for smut. Also for violence, since they kill an Eel.

Soul had never been much for hand holding, and yet here he was, standing in the middle of a lake, holding hands with a girl he'd met just three months ago.

Naked and Stranded they called it-90 days in the wilderness with hidden cameras and drones and a complete stranger and not a stitch on them.

Wes had insisted it would be good for his career, and when Soul predictably said fuck no, had then goaded him into a wager. Soul had lost the stupid fucking bet so here he was, buck ass naked in the middle of a lake full of things that could probably kill him, holding hands with a cute girl who could definitely kill him.

It started the first time they crossed the savanna. Maka had grabbed his hand, explaining it would be too easy to get separated amidst the tall grass, practically dragging him across the plain in the sweltering heat until they reached the blissfully cool shade of a mid sized copse of woods. The forested area had a stream running through and fruit and nut bearing trees, so she had declared it an ideal spot for their first camp, and for a time, it became their home.

After that, holding hands continued to occur-to keep track of each other in the forest, to not slip wading through the stream, there was always a reason, until it was almost second nature, reaching for her hand and finding it ready.

He also found he really didn't mind the hand holding, odd as it was. Soul had always been so aloof, so distant because getting close was dangerous. Getting close meant someone might see the real him underneath the underneath and run screaming. But getting close to Maka felt so natural, so easy, that most of the time he almost forgot they were being filmed. Almost.

Right now, Maka was hoping to spear one more giant eel before they went home in four days. That would be enough meat, if smoked and dried out properly, to sustain them for the rest of their time here.

Hoping they didn't both get shocked to hell like the last time, or that another crocodile

didn't decide they looked like lunch like the time before, Soul gripped her hand tighter and thanked his lucky stars again that she was the one he'd been paired with. He might be utterly useless, but Maka was a one woman army, with the skills and knowledge to keep them alive and healthy indefinitely. She squeezed his hand back, utterly still otherwise, and he couldn't help his grin. It was mind boggling, but this complete badass (who was also completely hot to boot, and no he didn't mean just overheated because of the damned locale,) seemed to really like him.

This was good. This was important. Because at this point, he was absolutely positive he loved her.

Stupid, he knew, to fall in love on the worst reality show ever to spring like Sin from Satan from the brain of some Hollywood hack, but how could he help it? They'd only had each other for three months-three fucking months-and she had kept them both alive. How a High School English Teacher was the best damned survivalist he'd ever heard of he didn't quite get-something about time spent in special forces, she had mentioned. Had he mentioned she was fucking amazing?

And in four days, this amazing, unexpected whirlwind who had unwittingly conquered him, heart and soul, would be a stranger again. In four days, all this would end and they would go their separate ways. Soul should be elated to get out of this living hell, but all he could think of was how much he'd miss her, how much he wanted to be near her, how much he was too afraid to tell her how he felt, how much he was afraid she'd be glad to be rid of him.

Maka had seen sides of him he'd never shown to anyone, and he knew she had done the same. Sure, they'd also shown the rest of the damned world in a way he found creepy and unnerving, but the real crux was that he had shown it to her, had let her in, and she had shown him, had let him in, cameras forgotten, cameras be damned. Soul wasn't sure he knew how to let her out again, how to let go, how to go back to being strangers. Did she want to go back to being strangers? He hoped not, he really did, but he was too afraid to ask, too afraid of what her answer might be, so he went on as if he weren't terrified of losing her, as if the end wasn't nigh, because he had no idea what else to do.

His quickly spiraling thoughts were broken by her sudden movement, and he kept his hand around hers firm as she lunged down with her wickedly sharp spear, letting go after a moment as the shock began, the eel swimming with the spear through it for a moment. She pulled him along and grabbed on again, driving it deeper, then letting go again as a final shock took hold before the spear began to sink more, the eel clearly going still.

"Help me-carry it," Maka panted, wrenching out her spear, and he let go of her hand to take the other end of the massive six foot eel as she found her own end. It was slippery and gross and would keep them well fed for the rest of their miserable time in this hellhole.

"Are you-okay?" he asked hesitantly as they began to walk, knowing how she hated anything she perceived as coddling.

"Yep!" she said brightly from her end of the eel. "I let go before it could shock me. I've mastered the greater art of eel hunting!" She laughed at that, so he laughed in turn, marveling again at having been partnered with someone who was so completely badass.

Carrying it back wasn't easy-they dropped the gross, slippery monster several times-but they eventually got back to camp and set to work. Soul was the better cook, one of the few skills he brought to the table, so as Maka stoked the fire, he began to skin and gut and properly butcher their meal using the largest knife on the multitool that had been her survival gear pick for their time in the wilderness.

Then Maka began to prep the smoking hole she had dug early in their time in this last camp, many weeks ago, pulling smoldering wood from their fire to put in the hole, then layering some of the meat he had thinly cut. Eventually, they were done, ¾ of the eel in the pit, covered and being smoked, and the rest roasting over the fire. It smelled delicious, his mouth watering at the prospect of fresh meat after a week of only fruits and nuts and the small bit of leftover dried meat from the last eel. Soul tended to the meal, roasting some fruit alongside the eel, and Maka practiced with her spear, gouging nearby trees to keep her skills sharp. For his part, he was content to watch her, the graceful movements of her small, lithe form filling his head with far less than decent thoughts. The need to shift the one thin, shoddy bag he had been issued at the beginning of this whole ordeal in order to cover his burgeoning interest was immanent.

Most of the time, Soul forgot they were naked. He'd become so used to it, he was so busy simply surviving, that their state of dress (or rather, lack thereof) was the last thing in his head. But every once in awhile, he really looked, and the sheer need that would thrill through him was new and frightening and divine. He had never, in all his 25 years, really wanted anyone before, but he wanted Maka. Oh how he wanted her. And oh how he couldn't have her, not just because she had shown little sign of wanting in return, but because he refused to have sex on national television even if she were willing (and gods how he wanted her to be willing.)

Bag rearranged to cover his growing problem, he shifted his focus back to the meat, though there was little to do as it sizzled over the fire. It smelled divine; he had always enjoyed eel, and while Maka was less enthusiastic about their meat of necessity, Soul was hoping his use of fruit juice and the few herbs they'd managed to scavenge would make it more palatable for her. It certainly smelled palatable.

After a time, she stopped her spear exercises and moved back to start digging a small hole near the hut. When he raised a questioning eyebrow, she simply shrugged and disappeared towards the lake. Several minutes later, she came back damp and clean and grabbed her multitool from where he'd set it down after prepping the eel to begin divesting her fingernails of dirt and grime.

"Your turn," Maka said, gesturing with her head towards the lake. It was gratifying that she trusted him not to get eaten-a few weeks ago, she would have insisted on going, but after he had fended off an alligator from both of them during their last eel hunt, she had re-assessed his ability to defend himself.

Soul did as she bid, though he wasn't sure why she was so keen on cleanliness today, washing up in the lake quickly since running into another alligator was not on his list of things he wanted to do. Done in only a few minutes and feeling admittedly refreshed, he walked back to camp, sitting on the tall, flat rock next to her in front of the fire. It was companionable, her cleaning her nails then handing him the knife to do the same, them sharing their meal shortly after. Their thighs touched as they ate and relived the killing of the meal.

"You're really something, you know that?" he blurted out as Maka explained how she'd figured out during their last eel hunt that they don't shock for a split second after being speared.

She smiled softly at that, something in her eyes that was both heavy and infinitely light as she bumped her knee softly against his leg and looked at him. "You too." Her voice was quiet but thick, and she was turning to him and leaning leaning leaning, her mouth growing nearer and-was she going to-

As her lips touched his, Soul decided yes, yes she was. Her lips were chapped but warm and hers, and he couldn't help but to respond eagerly as her hands found his hair, as his found her hips. There was desperation on her side and on his, and fuck he knew there were cameras, but kissing-he could kiss-he wanted so much to kiss-fuck the cameras. His hands itched to explore the body he had been seeing for months, but he would not-could not. Maka was less shy, hands roaming his shoulders, his chest, his thighs, before grabbing his own hands where his fingers were digging into her hips and running them up her torso, dragging them to her soft, perky chest where he wanted to touch but was afraid to touch because-

He pulled away from their kiss, pulled back his hands from the soft flesh he was dying to explore, then mouthed, "cameras."

Smiling mischievously, Maka moved closer, leaned so her lips were on his neck, near his ear, and whispered, "I took care of it, don't worry."

The suspicious absence of a drone should probably have tipped him off some time ago. Fuck, this woman was-was-

Her lips on his neck, sucking and-oh fuck yes-biting wiped out every thought, and his hands returned to their rightful place on her chest, squeezing and teasing softly, her soft, pleased little noises driving him on.

Her own hands did not remain idle, roaming his body again for a time before tangling in his hair, tugging his lips back up to hers. Minutes passed though it could have been hours for all he was able to process anything past the feel of her lips on his, her skin under his fingertips, before she pulled away and looked at him meaningfully.

"I'm tired. We should go to bed."

And he might have been disappointed if her smile hadn't revealed exactly what she meant.

Maka rose and pulled him up with her, stopping just in front of the shelter where she'd dug a small hole. She put a finger to her lips as she unhooked the microphone, walking the two steps into the open shelter made from branches and leaves and vines to the two man all weather sleeping bag that had been his own survival pick and rustling it a bit. With an exaggerated yawn, she said, "Goodnight, Soul," before walking and bending to get a pile of large leaves she'd gather and wrapping her mic necklace in one carefully. She gestured with her free hand to him and he blinked, dumbfounded, before mouthing "oh," as his brain caught up.

"Night, Maka," he said as he unhooked his own necklace and wrapped it. Maka placed hers in the hole, Soul did the same, and then she piled some of the dirt back into the hole.

"So we're-alone?" He raised both eyebrows, impressed, a little frightened, and a lot turned on by her ingenuity. She was amazing.

"Effectively. There's a camera that can probably see to the side of the shelter from a far distance, but not into it and not close enough to hear. The others were unfortunately broken while I was training, and so was the drone. They might send someone tomorrow, but I think if we hang out near some remaining cameras, they won't. They like to keep it as real as possible." Her grin was positively feral as she looked up at him. "Hope that doesn't make you nervous."

He swallowed, his fingers itching to touch her again. "Nah, I'm not afraid to let you have your way with me." The cocksure grin she threw him was mostly bravado with an edge of sheer lust, but he figured it was good enough as their lips found each other again.

There was more touching, then moaning, then giggling as they stumbled their way to the sleeping bag.

Finally there was wetness and warmth and breathy gasps of his name, of hers, as they came together at last, as he felt like all his miserable years had led up to this one imperfect perfect desperate moment in a sleeping bag on the dirt. He had had sex before, had been in relationships. He had never made love before, had never had sex when it wasn't a chore, but was instead everything he had ever been missing, where the woman with him wasn't someone he forced himself to tolerate, but instead, everything he would ever need.

He never wanted it to end, but it couldn't last, and when she came around him finally, his own release waning, he mourned the end as much as he savored it, and feared that tomorrow this would all be just a dream.

It wasn't a dream, proven some time in the middle of the night by a hard nudge to the ribs and a command to help retrieve the microphones, a task during which time he badly stubbed his toe. His cursing was surely caught by the newly retrieved, contracted reality gear, but Soul had long since ceased caring what the damned thing heard.

It wasn't like the fact that he had a foul mouth was news to the largely disinterested masses. No paparazzi fuel there.

He was really glad it wasn't a dream the next night, too, and the next, as they engaged in repeat performances and failed to talk about what had happened after they were done. Afraid to talk about it, afraid of being told that it was great while it lasted, Soul almost wished they could stay in that hellish paradise forever. There was very little he wouldn't do to stay with Maka at this point. Fuck, he was gone, and as they neared the extraction area, he squeezed her hand and pulled her to a stop, earning him raised eyebrows as she spun to face him. A drone had finally shown up again this morning, too late to catch their series of trysts, probably only sent out to film their journey to the meeting point.

It was now or never. They were at the end.

"Maka, I just-when all this is over-"

He never got to finish as a helicopter approached and began to descend.

They were going home.

Fuck.

An hour later, they found themselves cleaned up, wearing the clothing that they had originally arrived in, and being ushered to a car amidst a throng of press, questions like "was sleeping together a publicity stunt?" and "how do you feel about your brother's statement?" being hurled their way, rapidfire. Maka was scarlet and he must have been something very like, because seriously, what the hell was all this?

The limo they finally escaped into was occupied by the show's producer, Kimael Diehl, and her assistant producer, Jacqueline Dupree. They had been instrumental in recruiting and preparing Soul, who had quickly gotten tired of the shameless flirting of the one, and the stony faced judgement of the other.

As they entered the car, Jackie was just as stern looking as ever, but Kim was beaming.

"Well, well, well," the pink haired television exec said gleefully, smile growing nearly predatory. "That was quite the little stunt you two pulled. Sounded like a hell of a lot of fun, too." Her wink was far from subtle.

"I-" Maka shook her head, rabidly scarlet, clearly both agitated and confused.

"You're in breach of contract. Destroying the cameras, taking off your microphones-" Jackie added sternly. "We could sue you."

"Buuuuut," Kim sang out. "We won't. Because guess what, Maka, love?"

"I-" she repeated, still too stunned to talk, and Soul felt his own stomach twisting in knots

"You missed one." Kim's glee was palpable, and Soul was sure he was about to lose the contents of his stomach because that meant that everyone had seen-everything?

"I mean, we couldn't see it all-" she answered the unspoken thought "-the camera had a rear view to the shelter, which is likely for the best, but we had a very nice view what led up to your last few nights together, and we could certainly hear it all."

Maka whispered "no," shaking her head. She really had thought she got them all, any close enough to see and hear well, Soul knew.

"Of course, we weren't going to release the tapes. That would have been breach of contract on our part, the lawyers inform us, because any intimate moments are protected. Buuuuut~" she sang out. "Unfortunately, someone with the handle Black*Star hacked our server three days ago, downloaded the last few days of taping, edited it together, and released it to the Internet."

Maka groaned and shook her head, and Soul himself was floored. It was leaked?

"I-but-" he was definitely on vomit road and Maka looked ready to explode.

"So anyway, the will they won't they you guys had going on all season-fantastic by the way-became they did, and what with your aloof d-list celebrity status, Soul, and your brother's well timed tweet, well, let's just say people want to know everything."

It was Soul's turn to groan. Fucking Wes. What the hell had he done?

"So you're going to show everything?" Maka finally gathered enough composure to question.

"Well, no, we still can't do that," Kim admitted. "But you can and will hold a press conference, and we can definitely play the lead up material." She sounded pleased.

"And if we won't do this press conference?" Soul finally found his own voice because speaking in public about all this had his throat dry and his hands clammy.

"Then we pursue the breach of contract," Jackie said matter-of-factly.

"Buuut," Kim added, "all is forgiven if you help us promote the finale by doing the press conference, and agree to film an after show with us once we're back in the states."

Maka sighed heavily. She was a smart girl-she knew what he knew which was that they were totally boned.

"Fine, I'll do your stupid press conference and after show, whatever," Maka said, more than a bit tersely.

"And you?" Kim swiveled her gaze his way and he shrugged.

"Yeah, whatever, but we don't do shit 'till you forgive the breach in writing." He crossed his arms over his chest in emphasis.

"Of course," Kim said with a half flip, half wave of one hand before clapping both hands together with predatory glee. "Fantastic! We have you set up in the penthouse suite at the Grand until we can fly you to New York-nothing but the best for our star contestants," her cooing was obnoxiously patronizing, "we need you to share for security purposes, but you didn't really seem to mind the last few days." She waggled her eyebrows and Soul wanted to groan. "We're hoping by keeping you two locked up for a few days, we can control the media frenzy and build some anticipation. We're going to hold the press conference in three days at the hotel before flying you home. All you have to do is make a statement-we'll be happy to help with that, of course-but fielding questions would be fantastic as well."

Jackie leaned over to tap her boss lightly on the shoulder, and Kim nodded. "Right! Looks like we're here. Security is ready to escort you to your suite, and the things you brought with you should be there already, so we'll be in touch to brief you-see you soon! This is going to be spectacular!"

Then the car was stopping, a small army of large men along with a gaggle of reporters waiting in front of a large, elegant hotel. One opened the door, and both Soul and Maka were flanked from the press as they were quickly ushered through the hotel and into a private elevator off to the side requiring its own key. The elevator opened into the large foyer of the top floor penthouse suite they had been slated to share, and Soul noted that his fellow contestant seemed in some degree of awe as her gaze took in the opulence. He sometimes forgot that most people had not grown up surrounded by such things, that they had not long since grown stale to someone like Maka.

Seeing her awe, he had to admit it really was a nice suite. Sure it smacked a bit too strongly of being a childhood disappointment, but with Maka, everything took on a different cast, a better one. Maybe it was that she was blissfully unaware of his family and sad quasi celebrity status, but he'd take it.

As soon as Soul waved off the suite butler, informing him they would ring if they needed anything, Maka started exploring, and the determined look in her eye was the same look she had when she was looking for food-she was clearly a woman on a mission.

Too weary to bother following, Soul planted himself on the overstuffed leather couch in the television room of the suite, flipping through channels idly, waiting for her to finish whatever she had gotten it in her head to do. When he caught sight of their headshots on the oversized screen, he paused in his channel surfing with a frown.

"...and now, Terminal Affairs' exclusive interview with Spirit Albarn, the father of Naked and Stranded contestant Maka Albarn."

Soul moved forward on the couch, fascinated, feeling a little like a voyeur but too stunned and intrigued to change the channel or call for Maka.

"My baby was seduced by that skeezy Evans kid," the too-young-looking-to-be-Maka's

-dad redhead said unhappily. "Everyone knows his brother is a manwhore who will stick it in anything with an available hole-and now a filthy Evans has his grasping hands on my Maka. She was first in her class at Shibusen, you know, not some spoiled rich Juilliard drop out. HE DOESN'T DESERVE HER!"

Stomach dropping, Soul failed to notice Maka's presence until the television clicked off.

"Ignore it, he's not worth it," Maka replied shortly to his clearly bewildered look, plopping down beside him, laptop in hand.

"Found it," she said after a moment as she opened it on her lap. There was already a page up, and it was dedicated to-to-them, seemingly, since it was plastered with their pictures.

"What-?" he choked out, but really, really, he had already known what was coming after the car ride, a fact that stomach turning interview with her Dad had only cinched. Still, seeing the level it had reached in such a dedicated fan page was something else.

Maka snickered. "This is ridiculous, but really Soul, you're famous? You could have said something." The playful pout on her face couldn't quite mask the genuine hurt in her voice.

"Sorry, I meant to, I just-wanted you to like me for me, I guess.'

"I do," she said, pout becoming a smile. "Even if you're a dorky, spoiled big city boy. And I would still have." She punched his arm lightly and he rubbed it with exaggerated care and a scowl he didn't mean.

"Dorky?" His eyebrows were up. "Pot, meet kettle."

"Yeah yeah, let's see what the masses think," she said as she scrolled down.

There were links. A lot of links.

There was one to a tweet by one Wes Evans that was quoted above the link. "About time my little brother did more than just brood alone in his man cave," it said, followed by a second tweet. "Anyway, I think they're cute together. Can't wait to meet my future sister in law."

Soul sighed and shook his head. "Fuckin' Wes," he murmured. And when Maka looked about to open her mouth, he cut her off. "Your turn to ignore it."

She grinned and kept scrolling.

There was another link, headed by a quoted excerpt that was apparently from one of Maka's students. As she made to scroll quickly past, Soul put his hand over hers saying, "wait, I wanna read this one," and she stopped her scrolling to let him with a small out take of breath.

"When we dared Miss Albarn to do it, we never thought she actually would. Now we gotta write an extra essay, and if she finishes, we gotta help her tutor kids for a whole year, and she's gonna finish. Who knew our teacher was a total badass? Remind me to never talk back in class again."

Soul coughed. "You did all this-on a dare?"

"Well, yeah, but that wasn't the only reason," she said with righteous indignation. "I also wanted to show them you can do pretty much anything if you really try, that trying new things is good."

"Now that sounds like you."

"Anyway," she said with a small scowl that might have been much more cute than scary if he didn't know she could back her ire with lethal action, "didn't you do this whole thing because you lost a bet?"

His shrug was answer enough, he figured, but when she kept looking at him, he finally caved. "It's different. Wes is an asshole, and I'm a loser with nothing better to do anyway."

"Bullshit," she said, but mercifully kept scrolling.

Finally, she reached a YouTube link with a giant heart around it that was labeled YESSSS! Maka clicked on it, and they both held their breath.

It started with a rear view of their shelter from a moderate distance. There they were, backs to the camera, making out on that rock. It was slightly-exciting to see, as much was it was mortifying. The video cut to later as they got up from the rock and there was just the shelter and noises. Low grunts, moans, he heard his name gasped from her lips as he had the past few nights, heard her name from his, low and aching, and shit-it was awful, everyone had heard this-but it also brought the memories to him, fresh and vibrant.

"Maka," he said lowly, and whatever else he was going to say he didn't know, but it didn't matter because suddenly the laptop lay discarded on the coffee table and she was straddling his lap, mouth slanted over his deliciously.

Well, it would be awfully nice to have sex on a bed. Apparently, Maka thought so, too, because she soon after led him to the large master bedroom.

There had never been enough room for her to be on top in the sleeping bag, and as she rectified that clearly gross injustice now, pushing him down to have her way with him, it was nice. No, nice was a huge understatement. It was fucking fantastic was what it was, and Soul would have been content for her to ride him for the rest of their born days.

They were both tired, however, and while they had washed up in the helicopter, neither had had a proper bath in months, so they took a leisurely soak together in the double tub, had sex in the bath, had sex again in the bed, then finally went to sleep.

A few hours later, they awoke to the sound of buzzing. Dual buzzing, actually, along with a brief piano solo courtesy of Duke Ellington. Maka had found their phones and put them on the nightstand, and now it was coming back to bite them both in the ass, bless and curse her diligence that had kept them alive but now kept them from sleep.

Untangling from her to grab his phone as she grabbed hers, Soul frowned at the text from Kim that included a link and the words Nice work, change of plans, press conference at 10AM.

"I'm afraid to click it," he said groggily.

"Then let me," she answered, tone clipped.

He scooted closer again as her phone pulled up another YouTube post that sounded identical to their amateur porn debut, but the video was-different. It was grainy work, obviously shot from a distance, the edges of hotel curtains not quite obscuring the view as a perky blonde rode a white haired man vigorously.

They both turned to the window in horror.

The window with curtains not drawn.

Maka dropped her phone with something between a growl and a shriek, hastily pulling a sheet around herself and sprinting to close the curtains hours too late before looking back at him.

"I'm never leaving this room again."

"I say we live here forever. Like hermits. Bad reality star hermits. And live on sex. Lots of sex."

She laughed, shook her head, dropped the sheet, and strolled over, completely nude, to snuggle up to him.

"Good plan, but we gotta do this press conference or we're screwed."

"Yeah," he sighed his agreement.

"And eventually, we have to go home. We have lives..." Maka sounded thoughtful.

"Rather stay here," he grunted. Though-Soul couldn't force her to stay with him... "But I know you need to get back to your students in Nevada, and I-"

"Oh." Why did she sound so disappointed? "Yeah, my students. I just," she took a breath. "I mean-"

"I could come to Nevada," he blurted suddenly, the thought new and thrilling.

"You-you would do that?" Maka blinked.

"If it meant we could do this on the regular?" He pulled her closer. "Hell yeah."

Smiling at him, she wiggled up to kiss his nose. "It's funny, I was actually thinking of moving to New York."

"Nah, I'd rather come to you. I could take gigs in LA-already fly there to record-and I don't have students to disappoint."

"If I still even have students after all of this," she said, sighing heavily.

"If you don't, they're idiots," Soul offered, rubbing her back in an attempt to soothe.

"I'll need a bigger place," she said thoughtfully after a moment. "I don't think the two of us and all our things will fit in my little studio."

It was his turn to blink. "You wanna move in together?"

"Don't you?" She asked it as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, and really, after three months being so close, maybe it was. When he didn't answer immediately, far too in awe that she would want to live with him, her face become more guarded. "I mean, if you don't, it's ok, I know it's moving fast and I-"

"No," he cut her off and her face went from guarded to distraught for an instant. "I mean, I want to live together-if you do."

Her sudden smile was wide and beautiful. "I do."

"Good."

"Good," Maka said, yawning at the end. "Now let's get some sleep. Tomorrow's gonna be a long day."

And snuggled together comfortably, Soul was more than happy to take her suggestion.

The next morning was the press conference. After they had read Kim's suggestions, which were disturbingly focused on being touchy feely and giggly, Maka had insisted she would do the talking; she didn't really do giggly, and Soul cringed at the idea of putting on a show.

They moved through the hotel hand in hand as they had become so accustomed to over the past few months, occasionally squeezing for reassurance. Kim had informed them that they would be whisked off to the airport as soon as they made a statement and fielded questions if they decided to (and she clearly hoped they decided to, though for himself, Soul had no intentions of answering.)

He couldn't speak for Maka, though, and Maka would be speaking for both of them.

As they were ushered into the hotel's ballroom set up for the press, full of cameras and reporters to a nauseating degree, Maka squeezed his hand again, her hunter's look of determination both beautiful and terrible to behold as she walked across the stage with him in tow and stood at the podium.

The room broke into a cacophony of questions, followed by near silence as a voice over the speakers called for it.

Then Maka spoke.

"I know you all have questions, though why our private lives mean so much to you I will never understand, so let me answer the obvious ones so we can all get out of here." Her voice was eerily calm though she had his hand in a deathgrip. "Yes we had sex. Yes we like having sex. Yes we are going to continue having sex. Thanks and have a nice life."

With that, she stepped away from the podium and hauled him along with her off the stage and out of the room, the loud cacophony soon a bad memory as security escorted them to a waiting car and they left it all behind.

The media buzz they stirred in their wake was enormous as on that day, the world fell even more in love with Maka Albarn.

Then again, so did Soul, hand holding and all.