It was a normal afternoon. Maka had finished all her homework like a good student. Now she was busying herself with another equally important task.

"Hey, Soul," she said, entering his room. "I'm going to make a cake for Tsubaki because her birthday's coming up. Do you think you should help me since you're not really doing anything important?"

"Who says I'm not doing something important?" Soul growled.

Maka looked over his shoulder. "You're drawing a squid eating bacon."

"… Well, I was about to start my homework," he huffed.

Maka rolled her eyes. "If you help me, I'll let you lick the spatula."

Soul rolled his eyes back. "Don't treat me like a kid, Maka-"

"And the spoon."

"Coming."

Soul trailed after Maka into their tiny kitchen. She had already laid out everything they'd need to make a cake: eggs, butter, vanilla, milk, flour, sugar, salt and cocoa.

"You know, the idea was very tempting at first," Soul admitted, "but don't we have that essay to write?"

"I already finished mine," Maka said.

"Geez, you're amazing," Soul replied.

"Not really," Maka said, "we got the assignment seven weeks ago."

Soul blinked. "Really? That soon? No wonder I haven't started then…"

"Well, whatever," Maka sighed, "it says this cake should only take two minutes to make anyway, so it'll be done in no time."

"What's first then?" asked Soul, wanting to be done so he could lick the equipment faster.

But suddenly, a shout came from outside their door. "Hey, Maka! Soul! I'm respecting your boundaries by knocking, but asserting my rights as a powerful, godly figure by coming in anyway!"

Maka and Soul looked at each other.

"We can't let Black Star in!" Maka whispered. "It'll take forever to finish then! He'll want to do it his way!" And 'his way' almost always involved doing something illegal.

"Let's pretend we're not here," Soul whispered back.

"But then he'll break in!"

"Then let's pretend we're dead."

"Be realistic, Soul."

There was a loud bang.

"Well there goes the door again," Maka snarled.

"He'll see the ingredients!" Soul hissed. "Where should we put them?"

"We can't put them all in the cupboards in time!" Maka replied. "We need a space that can hold large amounts of items without being too awkward!"

"Yeah, but where?!" Soul looked at Maka, who was looking at him. "…What?"

A few seconds later, in burst Black Star.

"Hello, my friends!" he shouted. "Today is my lucky comrade's birthday and I'm here to tell you that you're coming to her party to cele- Soul, what's wrong with your face?"

Soul shrugged, cheeks bulging five times more than they should be, looking rather like a chipmunk during acorn season.

"Um, his face has a medical issue," Maka explained. Soul nodded his giant head in agreement, but was shooting her hate bombs with his red eyes all the while.

"My poor little underling! I'll run down to the drugstore and buy you some medication! Yahoo!" With that, Black Star sped off.

"Phew! That got rid of him," Maka sighed, relieved. "And his ADD will get the best of him quickly and he'll forget why he went in the first place."

"I hate you," Soul coughed, spitting the ingredients back to the counter.

"Okay, step one: place all ingredients in a bowl. That's easy enough," Maka nodded, tying her apron as she prepared to begin. "Ew, Soul! Your spit is all over the food!"

"Well excuse me for having saliva," Soul growled in his usual grainy voice.

"Blair!" Maka called the cat/person/not witch/supplier of fan service. "I need you to go to the grocery store and get me these things here on the shopping list. If you hurry back, I'll let you buy sexy lingerie." "Yayz!" Blair skipped away in a string bikini.

"Hey, are you sure that's okay?" Soul asked as she flounced off.

"I don't know, but apparently scantily-clad women enticing nosebleeds in fifteen-year-old boys is hilarious," Maka answered. "Plus, this will give you your chance to start the essay. I'll help you, if you want."

"Yeah, I guess. I never would do essays before, but I think the threat of being dissected has helped with that." Soul sat down at his computer. "So what's this thing about anyway?"

"Well, it's…" But Maka was cut short by a strange occurrence outside. Death the Kid was at her window with a tool set and measuring tape. She opened it up.

"Ah, Maka. How are you?" the Shinigami's son questioned.

Maka grit her teeth. "Never mind. What are you doing here?"

"It just so happens that your windows are spaced unevenly. So I'll need to rip out this wall here-" he pointed to her kitchen - "and reposition it .07 millimeters to the side so that-"

"No," Maka snapped. "You are not redoing our kitchen."

"It won't cost you a dime, I promise," Death the Kid reassured, and took out Liz and Patty, both in gun form.

"No! Kid, don't you dare!" Maka commanded, but it wasn't long before his wave length was shot in iridescent pink streaks towards the outer wall in a perfect circle. It fell inward with a thud.

"Very good. Now I'll just take out my duct-"

"What's wrong with you?! Go away!" Maka shrieked, deeply upset that the world seemed very against her baking a simple cake.

"But now it's even worse-" Kid cried, but Maka was looking at him in a way that implied instantaneous death that it overruled his desire to make the world symmetrical. Liz and Patty carried him home, as his mind had shut down with the impossibility of shifting the continents.

"How are we supposed to make a cake without an oven?!" Maka sobbed.

"I think you're getting too serious about this. I mean of course," Soul agreed quickly, because only Maka knew the location of the steak knives.

"We are making a cake!" Maka slammed her fist into the desk.

"But how? No doubt Blair blew all the money on… underthingies… while she had the chance," Soul reminded her.

"Don't worry, I know someone who can help us," Maka nodded, fist slapping her open hand.

"Good to see you! We need to borrow your kitchen," Maka said. "Death the Kid destroyed ours. We need to make a chocolate cake for Tsubaki-"

"Oi, Maka-" Soul began.

"It should only take a little while to make-"

"Hey-"

"Shut up, Soul. Anyway, do you think we could come in?"

"Maka!" Soul yelled.

"Idiot! What?!" Maka blared.

"You're the idiot! You're freaking talking to Tsubaki!" Soul shouted back.

Maka blinked in surprise and slowly turned her head. In the doorway, Tsubaki waved awkwardly, a sweatdrop slowly making its way down her forehead.

Maka's eyes were dark as she stood there silently.

"You should close the door," Soul warned.

"Ah, okay…" Tsubaki did so, wondering what she should think of this.

"Maka… Easy… It's okay…" Soul tried to calm down the disgruntled Maka as best as he could. "We'll just buy Tsubaki a present or something. Who says we need a cake? Besides, it was supposed to be a two-minute cake anyway. It's not a huge deal. And we can get the wall and door fixed easily, we can get Kid to pay for it."

The meister's labored breathing slowly returned to normal. But then-

"Check out my new underpants!" Blair cheered, racing up to them in glow-in-the-dark undies.

"I HATE YOU ALL!" Angered look returning to her face, Maka ripped out Webster's dictionary from nowhere and Maka-chop'd everyone in sight, including poor Soul. It made her feel better, but when she ceased rampaging, half the town looked like it had been struck by an atom bomb. Needless to say, Tsubaki did not get a cake for her birthday that year.

EPILOGUE

"There must be some reason I came here…" Black Star scratched his head.

"Sir, there's a line behind you," the pharmacist pointed out.

"What? Them? They're lucky to stand behind someone as great as me! Yahoo!" Black Star yahoo'd. No one got there prescriptions that day either.

This recipe came from recipes4cakes . com. Thanks to whoever wrote that short little blurb, whoever they are.