Note: In case you missed the announcement on my Tumblr, I have decided to do this story in the form of numerous, out-of-order drabbles like Odat's office AU. Hopefully a consistent theme will emerge over time, but until then, everything is going to be bite-sized. Happy holidays, everyone, and thanks for your support this year once again!

It was the night before the Winter Gala and Maka was among the towering shelves of the library studying a book about ancient runes when her best friend sidled into the seat across from her. The table was small, barely more than a desk, and when she looked up, his cheeks were dusted with uncharacteristic pink, as though he'd been running through the cold air.

She grinned at the frazzled Ravenclaw. "Hey, Soul. What's the matter?"

"Huh?" He frowned. "No, nothing's wrong. I was just - do you wanna hang out at the Winter Gala?"

Maka narrowed her eyes, as though that would help her understand without having to resort to a question. "Are you - are you asking me…?"

"Only - well - you don't have to," Soul finished lamely. This was more flustered than she'd ever seen him. "Just figured - it might be good not to go alone."

Maka couldn't have avoided giving him a grin if she wanted to. "Yeah, obviously. We'll have fun, right?"

They met just outside the Great Hall. Her formal robes were a deep red, frilled with white, chosen partly because they seemed appropriate for the season and partly because they brought out the color of her eyes; his robes were a dark forest green, simple and clean-cut, probably chosen for the same reasons. It wasn't clear whose eyes caught the other's first, but they nodded politely to each other and moved with the crowd into the dark entrance of the cavernous dining-room-turned-ballroom. Her cheeks were hot because she didn't know whether this was supposed to be a date, and she wondered if his were rosy for the same reason.

Professors Mjolnir, Tlipoca, and Azusa - with Kid's help - seemed to have outdone themselves decorating. Instead of the four House tables, the Hall was filled with numerous smaller tables, everything from the floors to the tables to the walls colored white like snow. The ceiling was displaying a clear night sky speckled with stars, and lanterns floated in the air to cast a glow like firelight. Snow appeared to be falling, but it was an illusion, neither cold nor wet.

"Whoa," Maka murmured upon their arrival as they stood, robe sleeves touching. "It's beautiful." Soul nodded. "But are there assigned seats?"

She gave him a flat look.

"What?" he asked, just as flatly.

"I'm trying to enjoy it, Soul."

He stuck his tongue out like the mature adult he'd become. "Just wanna make sure we're at the same table."

"Oh, good point," she said. "Let's see if we can just choose where we want to go."

They sat without incident, no protests from anyone and no assigned seating visible at the table. Students seemed to have no trouble choosing tables by friend groups, as in time, Soul and Maka were joined by Tsubaki, Black Star, Liz, Patti, and Kid.

This time two years ago, Maka would have danced with nearly everyone (possibly at once) while Soul sulked at the table. But now, all the others had become a bit more serious, had paired off to varying degrees, and were not available to bounce around merrily in circles. Soul was still looking kind of stoic, she noticed, but when he caught her watching, he rearranged his face into a more playful smirk.

Maka raised her eyebrows in a meaningful look, glancing toward the open space that the dancers occupied and then back to Soul's eyes. He squinted for a moment, then sighed.

"Okay, I already know what you're gonna tell me. We can go." When Maka sprung from her seat, all smiles because that had been far easier than she expected, he added, "But no killing my feet!"

"That was years ago," she said. "I'll be fine."

Maka's dancing was not fine.

"Makaaaaaaaaaa," Soul whined after she stepped on him for the fifth time. She chuckled and patted his arm; maybe this music was just too fast for her to keep up with when she didn't understand how to coordinate to a beat in the first place. She was going to lose her breath and her dress robes weren't exactly comfortable for dancing, but she was determined to keep Soul out here for as many songs as possible.

And then, for better or worse, a slow song began. He looked at her with a question written in his brow, but he didn't try to leave, nor did she, and they were able to slow down the pace enough that she could avoid stepping on him.

Seeing Soul's face and chest highlighted by the luminescent floating lanterns and the magic snowfall as they clumsily danced was surreal; something warm and powerful and a little scary filled her heart. She had to crane her neck a bit to look up at him - when had he become so tall? - and he was looking at her intensely, red eyes accented with the gold light.

"Hey. Let me lead?" he asked, a gruff murmur from between his sharp teeth and parted lips.

Maka nodded, pausing so they could recalibrate their holds to give him more leverage. She didn't expect him to pull her that much closer, but gingerly he did, and she leaned in all the way, resting her head on him. It was hard to pinpoint what he smelled like. It was probably just cologne. "Sweet" and "spicy" didn't quite cover it.

She was just getting comfortable, just calming her heart and settling into his embrace as they found a workable rhythm, when the song ended. They stared at each other many seconds afterwards, but the lights came on to signal the end of the gala, and the moment passed.

Twenty-four hours after the end of the Winter Gala, Maka found herself a hundred miles away, at home in her old bedroom, gazing out the window and writing a note.

Dear Soul,

It's officially the 25th, so... Merry Christmas! I miss our tradition. Staying at school with you on Christmas was always fun. But I'm also glad we finally decided to face our families this year. Good luck at dinner tomorrow! Send Oni to let me know how everything goes. I'll see you on New Year's Eve.

-Maka

She attached the note to Angel's feathery leg. The owl gave a soft hoot before Maka ushered her out the window. Somewhere a block or two away, there was a bang, like a car backfiring, and Maka started before taking a deep breath and shutting the window.

She had barely changed into pajamas before she heard a soft pfffff, pffffff sound against the window. She looked over and saw another snowball break against the glass. Cautious but curious, she peered out.

And there, at the edge of the light given by a streetlamp, stood Soul, up to his ankles in snow, silently using his wand to direct snowball after snowball at her window. Maka waved, then crept downstairs past her father's room. The chill in the night air stung.

"There's a door, you idiot," she said fondly when she was close enough to him.

"Didn't want to deal with your father this time," Soul answered. A very confused Angel chose this moment to land on his shoulder with Maka's letter; the owl shot her a look before Soul took the delivery.

"I'm sorry, I had no idea you were coming and wrote a letter to you," Maka said sheepishly, partly to Soul and partly to the owl.

"That's alright. I left your gift at school this morning, because this was kind of a last-minute idea," Soul said, the trace of an apology in his voice, "but I didn't plan this. I thought it might be nice just to say hello, since we usually would be seeing each other."

Maka stepped forward and embraced him through all their layers of clothes. "Thanks. We can exchange gifts at the New Year celebration. I'm glad you came to say hello, though I'm wondering how you got here."

"Knight Bus," he said into her hair. His breath was warm and her heart skipped a beat. Had he kissed the crown of her head? "It's completely insane, but it is simple," he continued as if nothing had happened.

"Hey Soul?" she said.

"Hmm?"

She pulled back, the better to see his face. "What do you want to do? Go for a walk? There's not much, at midnight."

He regarded her with the same look he'd worn while they danced. "Maka?" he asked after a few beats.

"Yeah?"

He brought his hand to the side of her face and slowly, so slowly, leaned toward her. She could see his wispy breaths in the crisp air, and he could almost certainly see hers.

"Can I?" he asked, a mere whisper, when his lips were so close she could feel their heat against her own. He'd clearly done something to give his breath a hint of peppermint.

She closed the distance between them and lingered on his mouth, chaste but warm. Not wanting to stay still, nor wanting to take any chances, they kissed lightly over and over again. The same feeling she'd had while dancing last night took hold, and he held her tenderly through another kiss, this one a bit deeper than the last.

"That's what I wanted to do," he said finally, nearly out of breath. "I should go home before someone gets worried, but I - I'm sorry I missed my chance last night. When we were dancing."

Maka grinned. "You didn't. We were both nervous."

And after she had seen him off again on the Knight Bus ("You again? Already?" asked the driver), Maka slept well, heart curled contentedly around the feeling of that moment in the snow.