Author's Notes: To be clear, these vignettes do not happen linearly. Hope that clears up any confusion. I highly recommend listening to "I'm Your Man" (my favorite version is Michael Buble's) while reading this.

A big thanks to Lueur-de-L'aube for all her help!


If you want a lover I'll do anything you ask me to

Maka tapped her toes against the floor of their apartment. She checked her watch. Inspected her nails (she really ought to take better care of them). Tapped some more. Blew air out between her teeth. Tapped some more.

Throwing her hands over her head, she stormed over to the closed door that hid her partner from her sight. She rapped loudly, chewing the inside of her cheek. It swung open almost immediately, surprising her.

"What?" he asked.

"I was making sure you were ready to go," Maka said quietly. He was buttoning up a freshly pressed dress shirt, the smell of aftershave overwhelming her senses.

"Well, you gave me like 20 minutes notice, so almost. All right?" She nodded. He strode back into the depths of his dark room, snatching a tie off of the dresser. With deft fingers, he wrapped it around his neck and tied it into a tight knot. Maka found herself unable to look away from those large palms, those swift fingers.

Turning back to her, he grabbed a jacket off of the corner of his unmade bed. "Can we just get this over with?" he asked plaintively. "Spending a Saturday night with Stein and Marie in a dark movie theater is not really what I had in mind for tonight."

That was precisely why she had given him no warning. But Marie had insisted, saying she wanted to treat Maka to an early birthday gift before she had to leave again on assignment and Stein of course would want to wish her happy birthday too, and wouldn't it be lovely if Soul could come too?

Maka wasn't sure what it was that they were doing, exactly. Lately it had seemed that things were shifting. When they sprawled across the couch playing video games, their limbs tangled of their own volition. Sometimes Soul would playfully smear tomato sauce across her face in the middle of cooking dinner, sparking an all out food fight. After particularly difficult battles, she would instruct him to lie down on the rug and she carefully kneaded out the knots in his back muscles that had accumulated from being in weapon form for too long, listening to his small groans of relief elicited by her small hands. She could sense that they were approaching this thing from every angle but head-on, dancing towards each other in the only way they knew how to: slowly, haltingly, hesitantly. She had hoped that tonight might be another one of those steps, one of the many in their long, drawn-out waltz.

By the state of his attire, he seemed to think so too. She had tried to make it clear that this was an upscale film, one in French with subtitles, one with no explosions and gunfire, and he needed to be dressed appropriately. Maka had not been expecting him to listen to her.

With a rustle, Soul threw his coat around his shoulders and slid his arms into the sleeves. "Ready?" he drawled, proffering his elbow ever so slightly. She delicately placed a hand there.


And if you want another kind of love I'll wear a mask for you

"This is so much fun!" hissed Maka. She could smell her own breath against the mask, feel the slight bit of condensation against her lips.

Kid had outdone himself this time. Halloween had prompted him to host another party, but in an attempt to make things more interesting, he had insisted that everyone show up in full costume. It had evolved (most likely with the influence of the Thompson sisters) into a full masquerade ball, and Maka was impressed that all her friends had delivered in that department in spades.

Only by the voices that emanated from behind elaborate masks could she tell who anybody was, and even then, different inflections and tones obscured the owners' identities further. Everyone seemed to be embracing the aura of mysteriousness that was inherent with wearing a mask, and as she and Soul wended their way through the crowd of their classmates, she felt a thrill of excitement run from her belly to her toes. There was a nervous tension in the air, a permeating sense of anticipation. The mood had even seemed to strike Soul, hidden behind his crimson mask.

He was standing up straight, for once, and he was allowing Maka to pull him lightly by the hand. Those razor-sharp teeth below the cut of the mask were certainly his, but they were pulled into an excited smile tonight. They reached the dance floor, and he turned to look down at her.

"I barely recognize anyone. Everyone's costumes are so good!" she said breathlessly.

"Well, it's hard to miss Black*Star's hair," Soul said.

"Yeah, but look at him!" said Maka, and their gazes both drifted across the crowded room where a blue-haired young man graciously extended his hand to the tall girl standing next to him. His normal exuberance was nowhere to be found as he lead his partner to the dance floor. "He's acting like such a proper gentleman. Tsubaki looks thrilled." The two began to sway slowly. "Look how well he's dancing!"

"Can't let them outdo us," came a growl in her ear, and Maka felt an arm snake around her waist and whisk her out into the open. She let out a small gasp as Soul shifted his grip in her hand and positioned her in front of him. The tempo of the music increased, and she had to reach up to grab his shoulder to keep from losing her balance.

As always, he took the lead, but there was something gleaming in his eyes through the mask. It seems the heady intoxication of the evening had infected him as well, swinging her with a gusto she had not expected. After a few moments, Maka felt another wave of excitement wash over her, and she allowed herself to be swept up in the giddy feeling of abandon promised by the notes wafting through the air. In a few hours, they would return to being Maka and Soul, but for the moment, they were only arms that embraced, feet that danced, and lips that came closer tonight than they ever had before.

And if you want a partner take my hand

Maka didn't know much about music. But the sounds that washed over her as she listened to him play the piano made something stir near her heart, and she stood patiently with her hands clasped behind her back. She could see his shoulders move underneath the fabric of his clothes. 'This is who I am,' he had said, and she listened.

Maka didn't know much about music, but when he finished the song and turned on the bench to give her a grin, she smiled and extended her hand. He took it. She didn't know much about music, but she did know something about partners.

Or if you want to strike me down in anger here I stand

"Maka, open the door," Soul insisted into the wood. Maka glanced at the door in the mirror; her hands were clenched around the edge of their sink as she tried to compose herself in the tiny bathroom.

"Maka, c'mon."

"I'm fine!" she barked.

"No, you're not. Just let me in."

"Go away!"

"I'm not going anywhere."

I'm your man

Maka glared at her reflection in the glass. It showed her that her cheeks were flushed a dull red, and she was breathing heavily through her teeth. With a noise of frustration, she reached out and turned the lock on the doorknob, but made no further movement to open the door. It was all the invitation Soul needed, and he stepped quietly into the bathroom as she righted herself and met his gaze in the mirror.

"Wanna tell me what's got you so upset?" he asked quietly.

"No," she said scathingly. His eyes never left the reflection of her face, and she couldn't stand the pity she saw in them.

"Maka," he said again. "You were fine earlier and now you're not." She didn't move. "All I know is, we're walking down the street with takeout and you get all weird-"

"He just told me this morning he was done with other women!" she spat out, and Soul immediately went quiet, allowing her to speak without interruption. "Just this morning." She stares at her white knuckles gripping the porcelain of the sink. "And I saw him across the street. It was like he was eating her face." She didn't hear Soul's approach, but she felt his warm breath on her neck and she whirled around to face him.

"He's a jerk!" she cried angrily, crashing into his chest as his arms rose up to meet her. Hot tears spilled over, peppering the front of his t-shirt. "He's a total, colossal jerk!" She punctuated each word with a light punch against his sturdy chest. He didn't respond, only tightening his arms around her thin frame, and she couldn't form actual words anymore, sobs muffled in the fabric of his shirt.

And if you want a boxer I will step into the ring for you

Maka twirled her scythe-partner to readjust her balance. The kishin egg snarled as it shuffled back and forth, hissing at her through its broken teeth as she pointed her partner at it.

"Don't even think about running," she said coolly.

"You won't get anywhere fast," Soul said, his voice tinny in weapon form.

The creature instead charged them, and Maka deftly dodged to the left. Her momentum carried her a little farther than she meant, and she dug the blade of her weapon into the ground. She recovered her balance before the kishin egg could, and she swung Soul down through the air in a large arc. She landed a blow to the back of the writhing creature, but it wasn't quite enough, and the thing squirmed away.

Maka could feel the thrum of their souls joined together as she jumped backwards to reassess the encounter. She felt Soul's strength and trust course through the link that bound them together, and straightened her spine. With a loud yell of, "Your soul is mine!" she threw herself into battle headlong.

And if you want a doctor I'll examine every inch of you

"Told ya we should have gone to the emergency room," Soul said in a flat voice as Maka let out a whine.

"No!" she insisted. "Too much paperwork. We can just do this here."

She let out another hiss and froze halfway in the process of sliding her button-down shirt off her shoulders. The wounds across her back were not too deep, but she had refused to take care of them until they got back to the apartment, and now the blood had caked around the entrances, gluing the fabric to her skin. Soul approached her wordlessly. He got to work easing the shirt out of each wound. She was sitting on the edge of the tub, and he leaned over her to see what he was doing. Maka winced as the shirt caught on one particularly deep wound, but after some gentle manipulation by her partner, she was before him in only her bra and skirt.

She willed herself not to be embarrassed; it was just as revealing as a bikini, and he had seen her in those. Still, it was hard to shake the thought that this was a bit more intimate, especially based on the way that Soul carefully lay her ruined shirt on the tiled floor and reached for a wash cloth, as if performing a ritual. He knelt in front of her and dipped the cloth into the warm water behind Maka. As gently as possible, he began to clean her wounds.

Maka leaned her head forward to allow him better access to her back, but the action stretched the gashes further, and she let out an involuntary gasp. "Don't move," he ordered quietly.

She watched him as he worked on her injured skin, gently cleaning away the dried blood and removing any dirt from the wounds, all the while trying to avoid hurting her further. She noticed how his eyes looked everywhere but at her chest (and really, why would he even want to look? He'd informed her often enough how unsatisfactory it was) as he repeated his motions of wiping her wounds, then dipping the cloth back into the slowly reddening water.

"I'm sorry," he said unexpectedly.

"What for?"

"For letting this happen to you."

"Soul, it's not your – ahh!" She growled the last syllable, arching her back away from the incriminating wash cloth. The unintended consequence of her reflex was to have her breasts press towards her partner's face, which had turned tomato red.

"Sorry for that too," he said, and Maka watched in fascination as he leaned around her even more, his face almost as bright as hers.

And if you want a driver climb inside

Maka stepped out into the sunshine as the bell rang to signify the end of classes. She took a deep breath of the fresh air, glad to be outside after a day under the glare of synthetic lighting.

She waved as Kid appeared from the doorway and hopped on his skateboard. Just as she was wondering if she should wait until Black*Star showed up to walk home with him, she heard the roar of a familiar engine. Unable to hide her smile, she turned to see Soul ride up to her on his motorcycle.

"I thought you'd still be asleep on your day off!" she teased. "After all, it's two o'clock in the afternoon."

"It was a nice day," said Soul simply. He patted the seat behind him. "Need a lift?"

Or if you want to take me for a ride you know you can

"Dammit, Maka!"

"I've got it!"

"Just let me – "

"I can do it!"

Maka clutched at the wheel between her hands, positioned perfectly at 'ten and two'. Her right ankle was sore from having just pumped the pedal so forcefully, and she could see Soul's right leg was fully extended, as if he had also tried to slam down on imaginary brakes. His arm was propped between the door and the ceiling of her father's car, bracing himself for impact.

"You're gonna get us killed, woman!" he moaned.

"I am not!"

"Maka, you almost blew through a red light and took out a class of preschoolers."

"It was an easy mistake! Darn it, Soul, why are you even here if you're just gonna make fun of me?"

'Cause I'm your man

"All right, just focus. You can't take your eyes off the road."

"I didn't!"

He grunted, and Maka saw the light turn green (though it was admittedly difficult to do so, as she was already halfway into the intersection and the light was hanging almost directly above the car). She eased her foot off the pedal and allowed the car to inch forward. She cruised through the intersection, her eyes darting left and right.

"You're gonna wanna speed up just a bit – just a bit! – 'cause the limit's 35 here."

"What am I going?"

"Check your dash."

"I thought my eyes were supposed to be on the road!"

"They are! But you're supposed to check your speed too."

"This is awful! I hate driving! Why aren't we on your bike?"

"You were the one who convinced her dad to let her practice!"

Maka sighed.

Ah the moon's too bright

The chain's too tight

The beast won't go to sleep

I've been running through

These promises to you

That I made and could not keep

Ah but a man never got a woman back not by begging on his knees

I'd crawl to you baby and I'd fall at your feet

I'd howl at your beauty like a dog in heat

And I'd claw at your heart and I'd tear at your sheet

I'd say please

'Cause I'm your man

She sits on his bed with her arms wrapped tightly around her chest. She is angry, but she is also cold in her short dress. She is barefoot; she had stormed into their apartment, kicking her high heels across the living room without watching where they landed. She was seething. She had turned to the kitchen to try to make some tea, but after heating up the kettle, she found she was still too angry to drink anything. She turned the knob of the burner off with unnecessary force. She paced around the tiny apartment, rage barely contained. Finally, after almost an hour, she heard the lock of the front door slide back and Soul slipped inside.

"Maka," he had said quietly, but she turned on her heel and wouldn't look at him. She had tried to lock herself in the bathroom, but he had maneuvered around her too quickly. He had all but herded her into his room, and so here she sits, arms and legs crossed, refusing to look him in the eye.

"Maka," he says again, leaning down to put a hand on either side of her hips. She doesn't turn to face him. He shifts his weight and lightly presses his lips to her cheekbone. She won't turn to face him, no matter how enticing his warm kisses are.

"I'm sorry," he breathes into her skin. "Did you hear me, Maka? I'm sorry." He reaches up with a hand to cup her cheek and she doesn't flinch. He slowly turns her face to his and their eyes meet. "Maka."

She lets him press their lips together in a chaste kiss. Slowly, she allows her eyes to shut as they remain immobile, mouths lightly touching. Almost unbidden, her tongue runs along his bottom lip, and he opens his mouth enough to allow her entrance. She thinks she can taste his apology, and she feels her heart soften.

After a few minutes, he leans back again. "I'm sorry," he repeats.

"I know," she sighs.

At her admission, he moves his mouth back to hers. He deepens the kiss this time, and slides his hands to her throat. His fingers are a little rough from callouses, but he holds her as carefully as he would a baby bird. She kisses him back with more force, and his hands slide further down her shoulders and her arms. They unfold themselves into her lap. Now they grasp her hips, thumbs tracing lazy circles. He breaks the kiss, moving his hot breath down her neck and over the tops of her breasts, peeking out over the cut of the dress. Maka feels something stir in the region of her navel.

Almost in response, Soul traces a hand over the delicate material of her dress and places it on her stomach. With a light push and a whispered, "Lie down," Maka is supporting herself with her elbows, her legs draped over the edge of the bed. She watches as he settles himself on his knees in front of her, and the stirring grows as a heat between her thighs.

Soul returns his hands to his meister's long legs, fingers gripping her firmly. He draws his palms up and down her legs slowly, meeting Maka's gaze the entire time. Her verdant eyes study his burgundy ones, and he calmly meets her scrutiny. He is unabashed by their betrayal of his utter devotion to the woman in front of him. She drinks in the love she sees reflected in the deep pools of red, filling herself as if with nourishment, and with a sigh, closes her eyes and slides the rest of the way down, lying flat on her back. She feels his hot breath between her thighs and she draws in her breath sharply.

Soul runs his splayed fingers up her creamy skin until he reaches her panties, hidden under the folds of her dress. He slips a finger under the thin fabric to press lightly down on the small bundle of nerves, causing Maka to shudder. His other fingers curl around the tight elastic of the lacy garment, dragging it slowly away from her body. He withdraws to slide them down her mile-long legs, tossing them aside when they are finally free of her ankles. Leaning forward again, he places her legs on his shoulders, one at a time, allowing himself more access. Maka clenches her thighs slightly in reflex to the tickle of his hair on her sensitive skin.

His hands are once again tracing circles on her body, but they have made their way to the apex of her thighs. Maka lets out a breath she didn't know she was holding. Soul gently slides his fingers across her wet folds, pressing more firmly the more he stroked. She can feel her pulse between her legs.

His index finger ventures inside, and she bites back a moan. He massages the upper wall of her sex, using the wetness to slide back and forth easily. He adds another finger, listening carefully to her breathing to determine where she needs to be touched.

Maka groans his name as his lips meet her clit. He exhales through his nose, and she shivers under him. He inserts another finger and Maka arches off the bed to meet him. He withdraws his hand slightly, then pushes back in, building a rhythm. Maka clenches the sheets of her partner's bed in her fists.

Soul continues his slow torment, moving in and out of his meister with a deliberate pace. Maka can feel a tension in her stomach, causing her to flex her taut ab muscles. Soul drags his fingers out particularly laboriously, and she gasps. His mouth is suddenly on her dripping folds.

It occurs to Maka that there is something different tonight in the way he strokes her languidly with her tongue. They have been together for eight months now, and they have both explored each other's bodies with their mouths before, but something tickles in the back of her mind, even as the waves of pleasure threaten to obliterate all thought. She realizes that Soul is caressing her folds with his tongue with a single-minded focus she has never experienced before. Their fooling around had always been slightly rushed, slightly off-kilter, trying to pleasure each other while ignoring the growing heat between their own legs; it was a little difficult to concentrate on performing oral sex when one's own body was crying out for similar attention. But tonight, she senses Soul's attention is entirely on her core, and her pleasure. Though she knows he must be achingly erect, she can tell that even if she were to walk out the door after she finished, he would not complain, would not follow. He is devoting himself entirely to her, as he always has done. His only goal is to bring her to orgasm, and it is this thought itself coupled with a flat-tongued lick from Soul that pushes Maka over the edge.

And if you've got to sleep a moment on the road I will steer for you

The wind whipped through her pigtails as Maka clung desperately to Soul's back. He had insisted they take his motorcycle to this mission – 'It's not far,' he had said – but Maka was now wishing they had taken a warmer mode of transportation.

She shivered, and Soul called out, "Cold?" She could never hide anything from him.

"Cold and tired," she complained loudly in his ear. He slowed the bike down to a more manageable pace, lessening the sting of the air currents around her. She squeezed him around the middle to convey her thanks.

The stars twinkled down on them, bright over the unlit highway that snaked its way through the Nevada desert. Maka rested a cheek against the back of Soul's jacket, observing with half-lidded eyes all the constellations she knew the names of, and the few that she didn't. She was warming up against her partner's back, and that fight must have taken more out of her than she had originally thought, because she found herself drifting in and out of consciousness. Only when she felt the motor of Soul's bike rumble to a halt did she realize that she must have actually fallen asleep, because they were back in front of their apartment.

"Oh, Soul," she said quietly. "I didn't mean to fall asleep on you."

He merely swung his leg over the bike, and extended his hand to help her off.

And if you want to work the street alone I'll disappear for you

Maka gnashed her teeth together as she slammed their front door behind her, Soul's shouts still ringing in her ears. She pounded down the stairs, exiting the apartment complex in a rush, nearly knocking over a young couple returning home. They both shot her a scandalized look, but she ignored them.

Picking a direction at random, Maka stalked away, her hands clenched into fists, growling under breath. Stupid Soul! Stupid, stupid, stupid Soul!

She wondered if she should try to find Blair to talk about the fight she had just had with her partner, but it was late enough in the evening that she was probably already at Chupa Cabra's, and Maka decided that if she had the misfortune of running into her father at the establishment, she would probably do something exceedingly violent she might regret. After another block of angry stomping in her well-worn boots, she considered turning the next corner to start heading to Tsubaki's, but she rejected that idea too. Tsubaki would try to calm her down, but Maka was still angry, still wanted to rant for a good while.

Allowing her feet to carry her towards Kid's mansion, she cracked her knuckles as she thought about the argument. Stupid Soul! Liz would listen to her abuse her partner, chiming in occasionally with a well-placed "Yeah" or "What the hell?" But Maka slowed as she approached the steps of the mansion, and quickly about-faced, redirecting her steps. She was sure Liz would try to concoct some sort of revenge on Soul, and she found herself reluctant to engage in such warfare.

Now wandering aimlessly, Maka wracked her brain for the appropriate party to unload her anger on; who would listen and let her blow off steam, then tell her how to fix things? She halted in her tracks with a groan, closing her eyes and pinching the bridge of her nose. Soul was the person who listened to her best, who validated the justified feelings while gently chiding her for the unwarranted ones. Soul was the person who channeled her anger into something more productive. Soul was the one who always knew just what she needed. With a sigh, she let her head fall back onto her shoulder, staring into the clear blue afternoon sky.

Fifteen minutes later, she let herself into their apartment; it was a good sign he hadn't changed the locks while she was out. She heard shuffling in the kitchen, and slipped in behind Soul. He had two steaming mugs of tea on the counter and was busy making scrambled eggs. He turned just in time to see her step up to him, wrapping her arms around his waist and burying her flushed face in his chest. His hands occupied with the handles of a pan and a spatula, he could only lean down slightly to press his lips to her hair.

And if you want a father for your child

"Would you quit squirming?" Maka asked in a slightly irritated voice.

Soul only sighed in response, trying to settle in underneath her. Her head was resting against his stomach as the both relaxed in the shade of a beech tree. It was a beautiful day out, and they were not the only ones with the idea to take advantage of the nice weather. The park was crowded with people, laughing and shouting and sleeping in the sun.

Maka's eyes were riveted on her novel. She was at the climax and she couldn't put it down. Soul had been playing with an old GameBoy he had dredged up from the depths of his closet, but the batteries had died fifteen minutes ago. They had gotten comfortable under the tree, Soul leaning against it while Maka got comfortable in his lap, but now that he had nothing to entertain himself, he seemed to be getting fidgety. That, or he was determined to drive her crazy by preventing her from finishing the book.

He let out another morose sigh, and Maka lay the book across her chest, frowning up at him.

"Can I help you?"

"I'm bored," he complained.

"I gathered."

He twirled an ashy blonde pigtail around his finger. "Pay attention to me."

"Since when is my job to entertain you?"

Soul leered down at her, his eyes glinting and teeth widening into a grin. "Can we make it your job?"

Maka felt a faint blush spread across her cheeks, which only caused his smile to spread. She was sure that like her, he was remembering their antics of the previous night. They had been watching a movie, curled up next to one another, but it had quickly devolved into fingers slipping under waistbands and hips moving against the other's. She had improved significantly since the beginning of their relationship, and her nimble hands had made quick work of the riled-up boy below her. He had mumbled something about it being much better entertainment than the movie playing in the background, and his smirk above her now confirmed that he recalled the comment perfectly.

"Not while we are in public," she growled and he chuckled.

Soul seemed to decide he had bothered her enough for the moment, glancing up to watch the people around them. Maka returned to her book. Unfortunately, her reprieve was not long. Her book was knocked from her hands with a sudden jolt as a something smacked her outstretched arms. She yelped. She turned to grab her book when she heard Soul ask in a gentle voice, "This yours?"

Maka whipped her head back to see a small girl smiling shyly, extending her arms. Soul grabbed the ball that had so recently attacked his girlfriend and offered it to the child. "That's a nice ball," he said as she took it.

"Yeah," said the girl.

"Is pink your favorite color?"

"Yeah! It's the color of my ball and my bed and my socks." She pointed to the scalloped edges of the uneven socks draped around her ankles.

"Nice, pink's a good color."

"Is it your favorite color?"

"Nah, I like green," said Soul, and Maka colored again.

"I like green too," the girl said, leaning her hip exaggeratedly to the side, as if to punctuate her point. "But I also like pink." She shifted her weight and stuck out her other hip. "And blue." Another hip switch. "And red."

"You know a lot of colors."

"I know all the colors!"

Soul laughed. "That's pretty impressive."

She didn't seem to know the meaning of the word, because she didn't respond, her hip still held out to the side and her head cocked to look at Soul and Maka. A man yelled to her, and she turned around. As she ran back to her father, the man lifted a hand in acknowledgment of Soul, who nodded in return. He turned back to Maka, who was eyeing him with a curious expression.

"That was really sweet," she said.

He shrugged. "Yeah, well. I like kids."

Or only want to walk with me a while across the sand

Tomorrow, they would have to go back home, back to the oppressive heat of Nevada. Tomorrow, they would board a plane to fly across the country and settle back into their daily routine. But tonight, Maka was going to enjoy the beach.

Their tiny motel was built right along the Jersey shore, and after finally defeating the kishin egg that had been terrorizing local residents, Soul had thrown himself onto the musty bed to sleep off his meal, completely ignoring the beautiful sand stretched out in front of them. Maka had smiled and let him sleep, but she had set an alarm on her phone to awaken her early. She had seen the sun sink below the Pacific Ocean many times back home, but she had never seen it rise over the angry waves of the Atlantic.

A deep breath filled her lungs with briny air as she carried her heavy boots in her hands. There was a warm light growing at the horizon.

Something caused her to turn around, and she saw Soul standing behind her and looking at her a little blearily. "Oh, Soul," she said over the sound of the surf. "I'm sorry, I tried to be quiet and not wake you up."

He shrugged, walking toward her. "It's fine. We need to be at the airport by noon anyway. 'Sides, I tend to wake up if you leave, y'know..."

Maka smiled.

Well, I'm your man

They were the only two on the beach; it wasn't tourist season. A yellow glow spread across the tops of the waves as Soul sidled up next to her. Neither looked at the other, watching the sliver of light wink at them from between the waves. As it grew higher and higher in the sky, their hands seemed to be drawn to one another as if by a magnet, and by the time the sun was completely over the ocean, warming their skin in the cool morning air, their fingers were interlaced in a comforting grip.

Ah the moon's too bright

The chain's too tight

The beast won't go to sleep

I've been running through

These promises to you

That I made and could not keep

Ah but a man never got a woman back not by begging on his knees

I'd crawl to you baby and I'd fall at your feet

I'd howl at your beauty like a dog in heat

And I'd claw at your heart and I'd tear at your sheet

I'd say please

Maka's thoughts are still sluggish as she hears Soul shift on the floor in front of her. She senses him stand, shaking a little from sore knees. He lets out a chuff and makes a movement away from the bed, but Maka forces herself to sit up in front of him. She reaches out and encircles his midriff with her long arms, drawing him close to her. Sliding her hands around to the front of his shirt, she untucks his shirt and starts to unbutton it from the bottom up, whispering her own apology into his navel.

She follows the trail of buttons up his shirt, popping each one out until she cannot reach any higher. Maka looks up at him and meets his gaze. His eyes are lidded and dark with desire, mouth parted slightly as he stares back. Maka smiles at him, and Soul seems to take this as a sign that she truly does accept his apology, and he leans over to plant a warm kiss against her mouth.

Her arms slide up to wrap around his neck and pull him closer, deepening the kiss. After a few moments, Maka remembers her work and unclasps the last few buttons of his shirt, then attacks his tie. It finally slides off his neck with a light hiss, and he is shirtless before her.

"Maka," he begins, but she silences him with another hard kiss.

His hands find their way to the back of her dress and fumble slightly with the tiny zipper. He finally manages to grasp it and yank it down, growling low in his throat, and Maka shimmies backwards further onto the bed to slide out of the constricting fabric. Now completely naked, she reaches forward and curls her fingers around the top of Soul's pants, playing with the top of his boxer shorts. She gives a yank and he falls forward onto the bed. She lets go as he rolls onto his back, and her nimble fingers make quick work of his belt. With both pairs of hands, they work the dress pants down over his hips and past his feet. It is not the first time they are naked together, but there is an electricity in the air that crackles between them.

Maka places a knee on either side of his legs and takes his erection in her small hand. He hisses slightly as she pumps up and down in a practiced manner, gripping him firmly. He moans her name, and a heady sense of power invades her senses.

'Cause I'm your man

She places a light kiss on top, and he shudders under her. Running the tip of her tongue up and down his shaft, Maka keeps her eyes on his face. Soul is twisting the sheets in his hands, and she watches the flexing of his forearms. She flattens her tongue against the underside of his dick and his breathing intensifies. Maka can tell by the way his chest heaves that if she takes him fully into her mouth, he will not last too much longer, and she has other plans for the evening. With a final lick from base to tip, she releases his partner and crawls up his body further.

It takes Soul a few seconds to register that she has stopped, but he opens his eyes to see his meister positioning herself over his crotch, and sits up.

"Maka," he says, running his hands from her shoulders to her elbows as she places her hands gently on his collarbone. "Are you sure?" She nods. There is a slight concern in his eyes, which warms her heart, but she wants this. They have been together as a couple for almost nine months, she has been on birth control for years – 'It's so much easier to go on missions when I know what to expect' – and she loves him. She loves him.

Maka catches Soul's lips in a heady kiss while she reaches a thin hand between their bodies. She wraps her fingers around his shaft again, and he grasps her waist. She guides her partner between her legs, and she feels his erection meet her folds. She sinks down onto him, still slick from her earlier orgasm, and breaks their kiss with a gasp, turning her head as she adjusts to the feeling of finally being filled to the brim.

"You okay?"

"Yes," she says so emphatically that Soul grins against her throat. Maka threads her fingers through the hair at the base of neck and meets his eyes. "You?"

He tightens his grip on her hips. "Maka, you feel amazing."

"How about now?" she asks, shifting her weight to pull off him slightly, then pushing back down. His deep groan is all the answer she needs. She tries again, and again, and soon she builds a rhythm while Soul licks at her collarbone. Maka tries to grasp his back, but they've both built up a sweat, and she digs her fingernails in to stay anchored. A large hand tangles in the hair running down her back, and Soul drags her head back to gain more access to her neck. His deep voice comes out in heavy pants against her flushed skin, telling her how wet she is, how amazing she feels, how sexy she is, and damn it, does she know how long he has wanted this, that he loves her, he loves her.

I'm your man

Soul's other hand travels up her sides, trailing lightning in his wake. He labors over each rib until he reaches her breasts, where his fingers spread to encase her flesh. He expertly plays with the hard nub in the center, knowing precisely how to elicit the most ragged gasps from his meister. Maka increases the tempo of her movements, causing them both to moan.

Maka's normally substantial vocabulary is reduced to 'n's and 'f's as she presses her tongue to the roof of her mouth for fear of being too loud. However, Soul seems determined to extract as much noise as possible from her, because he drags his teeth across her clavicle, knowing full well that she cannot resist the sharp pricks. "Soul," she pants, and he clamps down to suck on her skin, causing her to throw her head back with another cry. She presses her body against his, pushing Soul so that he flumps onto the pillows. He slides partway out; she is so wet, it is hard to keep him in with the sudden change of positions, but she quickly adjusts and immediately returns to her movements. Her knees are clamped to his sides as he runs his hands up and down her body. She is not exactly sure what to do, straddling him and gazing down into his face, but based on the broken way he says her name, her gyrations are extremely effective.

Their movements grow wilder as they both approach climax, Maka's hands on his chest. She takes pleasure in the way his muscles flex under her fingers, the way his eyes wander up and down her frame, drinking in her sweaty figure. Maka falls forward, wrapping her arms under his shoulders and kissing his ear. As she does so, her clit is pressed against his warm body, and lets out a loud gasp of "Soul!" as she feels her orgasm wash over her. She feels the walls of her sex contract against his arousal and she loses herself against him. His hips buck against hers a few more times and he follows, riding her pleasure into his own with a groan.

After a few moments, Maka is dimly aware of the sweat cooling on their bodies as their breathing returns to normal. Soul nuzzles her neck, wrapping his arms tightly around her waist.

"That was incredible," he says a little hoarsely, and she kisses her way back to his mouth. Their lips press together warmly until Maka shivers slightly, and Soul breaks away to maneuver them under the covers, rubbing her back to quell the goosebumps. With some ungainly shifting of tired limbs, they are tucked under Soul's sheets, cuddling against one another. Soul twirls her hair lazily around his fingers as she settles into the crook of his neck, the two of them fitting together as if they had been made that way.

"I did enjoy that," Maka murmurs against his chest. It vibrates against her cheek as he chuckles. "Though I think I might need a bit more practice. Know anyone who might be interested in helping with that?" Soul tightens his grip around her waist and crushes her to him before replying.

"I'm your man."

Author's Notes: All critiques and reviews are welcome.

Also, feel free to find me on tumblr: fabulousanima