50A/N: This is the start of a collection. Drabbles will not necessarily be in order, but they will all be set in this AU.
A new semester, a new day of work. It wasn't her dream job, but it was paying her way through school, so she couldn't really complain.
When Maka had been called the summer after high school and offered an interview for a position she'd never applied to, she'd almost hung up, figuring it was a hoax-but curiosity had gotten the better of her, so she'd agreed to meet with the man who claimed to be the ambassador from Lichtenstein. It would be in a highly public place, so what harm? If he was a crazy, which she figured he must be, she'd just call the cops.
Then Maka had seen the limo and police escort parked in front of the small cafe near her house and had nearly fainted.
Turned out the man who called her really was the ambassador from Lichtenstein, and ten minutes into their lunch interview, he offered her a job-the strangest job Maka had ever heard of. She was to be the companion to the younger son of the King, who was slated to go to college at Shibusen University just as she was. They would pay for the apartment she was to share with him, pay her tuition and other expenses, pay her a healthy salary. All she had to do was live in the apartment and make sure he was going to class and help him study and hang out with him. Basically, her job was to be his shadow, a glorified babysitter.
"I don't understand," she had told the ambassador, a thirty something man in an expensive suit named Joseph Buttataki. "Why me?"
BJ, as he'd insisted she call him, leaned back, looking thoughtful. "Why not you?" he asked at last.
"That's not an answer."
"That's exactly why you." He smiled knowingly and her frown depended. "You're smart-valedictorian of your class. And strong-state champion in the MMA tournament for your age and weight class. We believe you would be the ideal companion for the Prince, who refuses any sort of security detail or preferment. He chose the university and insists on living through a normal college experience. He did reluctantly agree to a hired companion, so your job will to keep him safe and on track. That is, should you choose to accept it, and I do hope you will. It would make both of their Majesties feel much better about this entire unorthodox situation for the Prince to have such a capable companion. Though I should probably warn you before you decide-Prince Solon can be… difficult."
Maka had wanted to refuse, she really had, because babysitting some stubborn, spoiled blue blood was not how she had intended to spend her college years. A prince-it was like some stupid cosmic joke. But Maka was far too smart, too practical, to refuse an offer that would benefit her so completely, so she hadn't.
"I think I can handle difficult," she answered after a thoughtful pause.
"Does this mean you accept?" BJ's look was almost comically hopeful.
She swallowed, nodded, forced a smile, and held out a hand to shake on it. "I guess you have yourself a royal companion." That moment had led her here and now, trying to pry said royal out of bed on the first day of their sixth semester. Lazy fucking bastard.
She'd given up trying to shake him and was currently straddling him where he was burritoed firmly in the covers, a fluffy white tuft of hair just barely peeking out the top of his thick red comforter. Soul (the nickname he went by-he insisted Solon was lame) never had been a morning person.
"Get." Maka whacked where his head should be. "Up." Whack. "You." Whack. "Royal." Whack. "Pain." Whack. "In the ass!" Whack.
"Hey-HEY-alright, jeezus!" Soul sat up, and as the covers fell from his face, she could see his sharp scowl, his red eyes blearily trained on her own. "Thought you were supposed to protect me, not try to fuckin' kill me."
"I'm trying to make sure we get to class on time, which we won't if you don't get dressed now. And no you can't shower-you lost time for that when you didn't get up the first half dozen times I tried. Maybe next time you'll think twice before staying up until 5 playing Halo with Star, eh?"
"This is an I told you so, isn't it?" His scowl deepened.
"Yep!" she said brightly. "Now hurry or your crepes will be cold."
"You made breakfast?" He blinked at her, surprised.
"Don't I always the first day of the semester?"
"Yeah" His smile was so fond it made her feel warm. "Guess you do."
That's when she realized she was basically sitting in his lap, and went ahead and scrambled back and off. "I'll just-uh-leave. So you can get dressed."
And with that, she slunk out of the room.
Five minutes later, they were both at the breakfast table, him in rumpled jeans and a band t shirt, her in her own pair of jeans and a fitted green sweater-it was winter and, even in the desert, that meant it was chilly. Soul ate his crepes with relish-if he had ever had manners, and he must have, he'd clearly left them at the door when he moved in with her. Most of the time, Maka forgot he was actually a prince, and when she remembered, she tended to mentally label him the anti-prince, her own private joke. He was very un prince like, as cliches went, though there were times when she caught glimpses of his high class upbringing-how daintily he held a coffee cup, or how he sometimes forgot to slouch and sat up a bit too straight-and she couldn't help but to wonder how much of his college cool guy persona was him just letting go and how much was him forcing himself to be the normal twenty year old he so desperately wished he really was. Maka figured it was probably a little of both.
Of course, Soul had changed from when they first met, as it was inevitable he would. He hadn't known how to do a single domestic thing in the beginning, and as she'd made clear from day one, she was his companion and protector, not his maid, so if he wanted to be a normal college student, he'd best do normal chores. She'd had to teach him how to do the simplest things, had to constantly remind him that, no, a maid would not be around to pick that up later. Now when he left his shit on the floor, and he did often enough, she knew it was laziness rather than cluelessness, and the resultant punches to the arm were completely justified.
Soul would sometimes tell her she was committing royal abuse at that, to which Maka always just made a face and told him he was welcome to ask for a new companion if he didn't like it. He never never did.
As they ate their crepes, lukewarm at best, in companionable silence, as she watched him inhale his food with gusto, Maka couldn't help but to be grateful for him, for all of this. At first, it had just been a damned good situation for her, but after two and a half years of living together, studying together, sharing their problems, their meals, taking care of each other when they were sick, or drunk, or just depressed-well, somewhere along the way, he had evolved from being her responsibility to her friend, and it was hard to think that there would be a time when Soul would go back home to be a prince again and leave her here alone. She didn't like to think about it.
When the time came, she would face it. Maka had had a life before him, plans, ambitions. Surely she could manage when he was gone.
He finished and got up, rinsing his plate to put in the dishwasher. She did the same, and after taking turns in the bathroom, they donned coats and she grabbed her keys.
Soul scoffed at that. "Just what do you think you're doing?"
"Getting ready to go?" she asked, puzzled.
"My turn to drive, bookworm. You drove all finals' week."
"You really want to drive your death trap in the cold?"
"Yup."
"Whatever," she sighed out. "But I swear to you when you kill me on that thing, my Papa will probably sue the whole country of Liechtenstein into oblivion."
"Good." He smirked. "Ready?"
Her answer was to open the door, and soon enough, they were on his gigantic orange monstrosity of a bike-she would never understand how he had convinced BJ to obtain it for him-tearing down the two mile stretch to campus.
She was plastered to his back as she typically was, because he drove way too fast. There were days she thought he did it on purpose, not just to feel the wind as he always claimed, but to feel her. Probably that was wishful thinking, though, so she tended to ignore the thought when it occurred.
They parted ways once she walked him to the music building, agreeing to meet for lunch after their morning class, and Maka found herself excited, as she always was, for the new semester.
By the time she trudged her way to the Student Union, she was decidedly less excited. Both classes she'd attended were interesting, and she'd liked Eighteenth-century lit class well enough, but the Forensics professor was a close friend of her dad's and an impossible combination of hardass and weirdo. She really wasn't looking forward to a whole semester with a guy who kept reminding her he'd helped change her diapers.
Scanning through the crowd, Maka finally spotted a white mop of hair in the corner of the room-Soul was never hard to pick out of a crowd with that odd yet natural color (as she'd discovered when he had taken to mucking about the apartment in only boxers or sleep pants, exposing his rather toned, tanned torso like a dangling carrot of never gonna happen, the happy trail, at least, matched the drapes). He had on his comically oversized and probably ridiculously expensive headphones, oblivious to the world with his eyes closed and feet propped up on the table. Gods he was such a lazy, disrespectful shit sometimes.
She weaved her way over and, figuring he deserved a little shock, plopped down forcefully into his lap, causing him to nearly topple over in the chair as his eyes flew open. "Goddamnit Maka, you almost gave me a heart attack."
She was too busy laughing to care and he just shook his head and growled. Then she realized Soul hadn't shoved her off his lap like she'd expected but was just staring, face inches from her own, red eyes watching her intently, so she scrambled off and stood up, covering her own embarrassment by cocking her hands on her hips as she loomed over him.
"So, the usual, or are we gonna be adventurous this semester?" she asked, the teasing tone a bit forced.
"Well, you're clearly adventurous today, but I'm still feeling cheese and pepperoni."
"Fine by me." She shrugged. "I'll go get it. Be back in a few."
He surprised her by grabbing her wrist. "Nah, I got it. Sit. I'll be right back."
Well wasn't he being the uncharacteristic gentleman today. He'd either had a really bad first day or a really good one, and she couldn't quite tell which yet beneath that mask of apathy. She settled into the chair across from the one he'd vacated, plopping her book bag down next to her carelessly and sighing as she pillowed her head on her forearms. Maka felt far more tired than she should, but she supposed the emotional strain of dealing with a near relative as a teacher for two hours would do that. Plus, she hadn't been sleeping well, and that always left her tired.
She didn't realize she'd dozed off until she felt his hand, warm on her shoulder, heard his voice, soft in her ear, felt his breath, hot against her neck.
"Wha?" She sat up straight and blinked.
"I said, I can't believe Maka Albarn, top of her class, member of every honor society ever invented, just fell asleep in the U," he quipped as he stood and slid into the chair across from her, a pizza sitting hot and gooey between them. The smell was heavenly, and her stomach rumbled in reminder that it was actually lunch time.
"You must be rubbing off on me, what can I say." She offered with a yawn before grabbing for a slice and claiming one of the two sodas.
"I'd like to rub off on you," he replied, waggling his eyebrows.
"Yeah, yeah, you wish," she grumbled. Would be nice if he meant it, but much as he liked to screw with her, he had zero interest in actually screwing her. When she'd first been introduced to him, he had groaned to BJ (as if she hadn't been right there) that he didn't want some tiny tits bookworm tagging along wherever he went, making it painfully obvious that she wasn't his type. Not that she'd wanted to be, not then. Hell, Maka really shouldn't want to be now, but she couldn't help it. Sometime between then and now, the lazy, sarcastic anti-royal idiot had wormed his way into her very soul. Really, this job was the best thing that had ever happened to her-but it was probably also the worst when it came right down to it since it was only temporary.
"Seriously, though." He frowned at her as he took a slice and a soda himself. "Are you okay?" The unadulterated concern in his voice made her feel warm.
"'M fine, just tired," she said around a bite of hot gooey heaven.
"Ohhhh-kay," he said with a small eyeroll, unconvinced but unwilling to push. "Annnnyway," he continued. "How're your classes so far?"
"Alright," she said with a small shrug. "I like English, but Forensics is-" she couldn't even say it, just sighed.
"Is-what?"
"Okay, well, remember that time we went to lunch with my Papa and he brought his friend?"
"He's brought a lot of-"
"His male friend," she cut him off.
"Oh, yeah, that guy was-yeah."
"Well, that guy is the forensics professor."
"Ohhhhhh," he said. "Sorry."
"I'll live." She sighed again. "So what about you? How was music theory?"
"Boring, cliche, basic," he ground out. "At least it should be easy."
"Well, that's something," she offered, trying to be positive, because Soul tended to be negative enough for both of them.
"Whatever. Did see something interesting on my way here, though." There was something in his face and voice she rarely saw directed at her, the barest thread of anxiety beneath the apathy, and she wondered where this was headed.
"Oh?" She raised both eyebrows before taking another bite of pizza.
"Yeah. Spring Fling is in six weeks."
"And that's interesting how, exactly? Because this is our third year, and Spring Fling is every March, and this is the first time-"
"Thought it might be interesting to actually go this year," he cut her off, waving a dismissive hand.
"You want to go to the Spring formal?" Her eyebrows were approaching her hairline, her voice desert dry. Clearly music theory had fried what little brain he had left or else he'd been replaced with the Stepford version of himself sometime between this morning and now.
He shrugged indifferently, as if it were a silly question. "Why not?"
"Seriously, who are you and what have you done with the real Soul Evans?"
He laughed. "He's in my closet, chained, naked, and living off scraps. Seriously, though, will you go with me or what?"
"You want me to be your date?"
"You're my companion-I have to go with you one way or the other. It's not a date. Asking is just a courtesy."
"Right," she sighed, stifling the disappointment she shouldn't be feeling. "But-why now? You've never wanted to go to anything like this-hell-you always bitch that you hate parties. I don't get it."
"Welllll," he said, picking at the pepperoni on his pizza. "I was thinking about it, and I figured if I'm here to get the real college experience, I should probably do this type of shit at least once-plus it'd be sort of interesting to see how the other half do the whole 'formal' deal, so I decided why the fuck not. So you're in?"
"You just made it clear I have no choice," she said flatly.
"I was being an ass. You don't have to go, but I'd rather not go stag-it'd be nice to have a friend with me."
God, when he looked at her so warmly, the apathy gone just for that instant, how could she say no? "Yeah, yeah, alright, we'll go."
"Awesome!" His grin was broad and genuine, his too sharp teeth gleaming, and it did funny things to her insides. "You won't regret it! And don't worry, it'll be no skin off your ass. I'll arrange everything. I'll even take care of the dress."
"I think I can manage my own dress," she scoffed.
"Maka-I saw what you wore to the Honor Society Dinner. You really can't. Aside from which-I don't want this to be a pain in the ass for you. I'll arrange it, alright?"
"Whatever," she agreed, resigned.
"Great!" he said, and he looked so damned happy that she couldn't help but smile herself. It was rare to see Soul excited about anything, really, but he seemed genuinely excited about this. Well, he was interested in pop culture and the like since he'd been pretty sheltered in his life before-she supposed it made an odd sort of sense he'd be curious about even something like this.
If she was honest, and Maka tended to be honest, she was pretty excited herself at the thought of going to Spring Fling with him. There would be music, and dancing, and friends-it was just the type of thing she enjoyed every now and again. And the thought of dancing with him made her feel warm all over again.
She wondered suddenly if Soul actually would dance. He always told her he hated it, and the few times they'd been places where there was dancing, he'd begged off. Yet here he was, practically insisting they go to a dance.
"I do have a condition," she blurted suddenly.
"Huh? Condition?" His eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
"To go to the Spring Fling. You have to agree to dance at least once. It's silly to go to a dance and not actually dance after all."
He looked at her for a long moment, face expressionless, then shrugged. "One dance won't kill me. Fine." He then shoved a slice of pizza in his mouth to take a ridiculously oversized bite, but she was pretty sure she caught the beginnings of a smile.
She was pretty happy at the whole concept herself, so she swallowed down more of her own pizza and tried not to dwell on how much she was looking forward to the Spring Fling.
