A/N: This took me quite a while to write and quite a while to type up, but it was worth it. I had thought one day about his jacket – which I'm assuming is a zip-up and not a button-up, but if I'm wrong, my apologies – and how much I love it and got the idea for this. Forgive any spelling or grammar mistakes and if you find any, please leave them in a review or send me a private message so I can fix them. I'd also like to thank FanofBellaandEdward for her help with some of the ideas for this. Thank you! (: Reviews and criticism are welcome.

Disclaimer: I don't own Soul Eater.

Black Raspberry Jam

She concentrated solely on the back of his head, her eyes burning holes into the tuft of white hair that lay there. And by the look on her face – narrowed eyes, lips pursed, brows screwed together – she was concentrating.

Hard.

That was until her subject of concentration turned, focusing his red eyes on her, his lips drawn into an irritated scowl, not a trace of those pointed teeth of his that fiercely fascinated her. She was glad for their absence, though, for the boy himself was distracting enough.

"Why have you been staring at the back of my head for the past five minutes?" Maka hadn't an idea what to say in answer and said instead: "I think I'll make breakfast," and hurried to the kitchen. Once in front of the refrigerator she winced inwardly; her voice had sounded unnaturally high and nervous, even to her own ears.

She'd come up with a plan. A plan to steal Soul's jacket. She didn't really know why she wanted it – she had her own – and it wasn't every day you just woke up and decided to steal someone's jacket. But Maka did just that. Well, sort of.

It'd been an ordinary day, Maka getting up to put on her usual uniform – though there were slight changes since she was four years older – and made her way out to the kitchen to start breakfast. The smell of bacon, however, had her slowing her pace.

"Soul," Maka's slightly sleepy voice asked when she saw the black fabric of his back. He'd turned around then, a big smile on his face and a spatula in hand.

"Good morning," He greeted her before setting the spatula down onto the smooth surface of the counter, and walking to her, sliding his arms gracefully around her and kissing her warmly.

"I think the bacon is burning," Maka mumbled against his lips. The kiss had ended but neither seemed to think kindly to pulling away from the other, lips and all.

"Just another minute or two," Soul mumbled back.

He nuzzled his nose with Maka's before she retreated to the neck of his jacket and took in the delicious smell of him with a slow, deep inhale.

"Are you smelling me," Soul's voice from above her inquired amusedly. She nodded and he chuckled softly, untangling himself from her body, moving to the stove to check the burning bacon.

From that day onward, Maka decided something. She would always prepare breakfast, no matter how nice it felt to have Soul do it. And also that she would take his yellow and black jacket because it just smelled so damn good and reminded her of him, even if they were right next to each other.

It looked… warm. She thought, now back to the present as she placed some bread into the toaster and retrieved some black raspberry jam from the fridge. Warmer than any of the jackets she owned. It wasn't like she wanted to wear it because it was His. Or because she wanted everyone to truly know that she was with Soul and Soul with her. That's what she'd tell herself because – even if they were together – she didn't want Soul to tease her if he figured out her "master plan".

Yes, he would tease her. He'd tease her about her blushes when he held her hand or her blushes when Patty made faces at them when she knew they were looking, but pretended she didn't. Or sometimes he'd tease her about her lack of intimacy or experience. This would then deliver him a nice hard Maka Chop.

She made sure to always have a book on hand given the time came to use it.

However, he didn't tease her about her lack of… womanly attributes anymore. He'd grown more mature since he was fourteen and she thirteen. Four years had given Maka enough time to grow into her body, and even though she might still not have compared to Tsubaki or either of the Thompson sisters, Soul still made her feel… beautiful.

Maka sighed quietly and wondered when she'd come to occupy her time with thinking about such things.

She was lost in thought when Soul came in, bringing fresh steam and the smell of his soap from his recent shower. Maka was broken from her musings when a sultry voice spoke to her right.

"The toast is burning."

She wasn't easily frightened, but today she needed to pretend she was – even though she had been a little frightened when he'd unexpectedly spoken – and she spun toward the voice, butter knife slathered in jam in hand. Her eyes widened convincingly as it flew from her slackened grasp, hitting her partner's jacketed arm and landing on the floor with a clash.

"Oh! I'm sorry," She exclaimed, kneeling down to retrieve the knife and a smile rested on her lips for a moment before disappearing as she set it into the sink. This was going just as she had planned.

Looking over at her companion, she looked at the glob of jam on his sleeve and felt a sense of satisfaction for the successful completion of the first part of her plan. That was, until she noticed that he was wearing his blue pullover and not the yellow and black zip-up she so desperately wanted. She berated herself viciously for not noticing it sooner – how in the world hadn't she? – and felt the minimal gratification she'd felt only a moment before disappear completely.

First attempt status: failure.

She tried to keep the disappointed look off of her face – only succeeding a little – as she looked to see Soul's finger scoop up the blob of jam and disappear into his mouth.

"No biggie," He said around his finger. "Just some jam."

There was a rather large spot on the left sleeve of his pullover now and Maka started forward, clutching the bottom with the intent of washing it to prevent it from staying there – and also using it as an excuse to think up a new plan. She pulled it forcefully over his head – with a noise of discomfort from Soul – and started toward the bathroom, but didn't make it there before a hand held hers and pulled her into a strong chest.

"Where are you going," Soul asked when she gained her footing and looked up at him. "You're not finished."

"Finished with what?" Her tone was slightly breathless, no matter how hard she tried to make it sound agitated. Their close proximity wasn't what erected that tone – though it did affect her – but the look in the young man's eyes is what got to her. She'd nearly always found them beautiful and now they were filled with undisguised mirth and affection.

"Finished undressing me," He said his smirk growing wider. He took the blue fabric from her hands, tossing it onto a chair before winding his arms around her slim waist and, as he leaned down and closed his eyes, she expected to receive a fierce dominating kiss. That was to say, she was pleasantly surprised when they were soft, light and closed.

It didn't last long, but they stood together for a little while after, Soul's arms resting lightly around her and Maka's hands clenched in his shirt. Maka looked down shyly from the look in his eyes and turned back to preparing their breakfast with a faint red to her usually pale face.

Soul chuckled softly, wrapping his fingers in her pigtails-turned-ponytail and pulling lightly before placing a confident kiss on her cheek.

"You're so adorable," He whispered against her skin before turning to dispose of the charred bread in the toaster and replacing it with fresh slices and grabbing a clean butter knife from a drawer to his right.

"Good morning," A cheerful voice called from behind the two, followed by a shout of,
"Gah! You stupid cat. Put some clothes on."

"Oh, you're no fun."

Maka ignored this, grabbing plates from a cupboard and shoveling the food onto them. She glanced at Soul and her eyes narrowed dangerously when he suspiciously rubbed at his nose. His hand dropped instantly at the look from the girl and he stepped forward, moving to soothe her suspicions but was turned away.

"Not cool, Maka," Soul whined as she placed the plates on the table and before he could make a move, a book spine slammed down onto the top of his skull. Soul gave an undignified whimper – that he would later claim never came from him – and begrudgingly sat across from Maka, grumbling under his breath about something unintelligible and speared his fork through the yolk of his fried egg, making the orange substance ooze its way out and defile the pristine white of the plate it rested on.

They sat in companionable silence as they ate before Blair – otherwise known as the "stupid cat" – made her way into the kitchen, fully clothed, as Maka and Soul started up a conversation on what they should do that day.

"Well, I want to go to the library," Maka started after Soul mentioned the prearranged basketball game he and their friends had talked about previously. "There's this new book that came out a while ago and I wanted to see if they had it in yet. If they don't, I'll probably go to the bookstore afterwards. I could always just meet you there. It's not like I can play anyway." The last part was said under her breath, not really meant for anyone in particular, but heard by the other occupants of the room nonetheless. Even after all these years, Soul and their friends still tried to include Maka in on their games.

"I want to play," Blair piped up, leaning forward and over the table toward Soul. Soul just glared at her and Maka finished eating, ignoring the insecurity she felt whenever Blair… was Blair.

"No. You're not coming. You probably don't even know how to play." Soul rejected.

Maka washed the dishes in silence as the other two in the kitchen continued with their argument. Once she was finished, the weapon and cat had stopped their spat and Soul was now heading out. Maka noticed with satisfaction that he had opted to putting on the old and slightly worn yellow and black jacket. It had grown a bit smaller since the four years of growth he'd gone through, but it still fit him quite well, just as the plain, straight and loose denim jeans and converse sneakers did.

"Well, I'm leaving," Soul said, exchanging a quiet goodbye with Maka that she accepted and returned before plopping down onto the floor to pull on her shoes. However, before Maka could make it out the door, she felt a hand on her shoulder, only to turn and see Blair standing there. Maka may have been a little disgruntled at the inconvenience of being prevented from leaving for the library, but wasn't when she saw the look of seriousness on the magical cat's face.

"Blair," Maka asked unsure.

"Do you need help?" Was Maka's response, which only served to confuse her further.

"Sorry?"

"You're up to something that has to do with Soul, right?" Upon receiving a nod from the blonde, Blair continued. "Do you need help?"

"Actually… that would be nice."

Blair smiled prettily at that and responded by asking what exactly she was up to and what she could do to help. When Maka had finished with recounting what had happened the other day, what she wanted to do and her failed attempt at it this morning, Blair's expression had gone from enthusiasm to uncharacteristic thoughtfulness.

Maka waited silently, her uneasiness of being teased growing higher with every second that passed where Blair was silent. Finally, Blair spoke.

"I say that you go to the library just as you planned and don't wear a jacket, even though it gets freezing in there despite what time of year it is and –" Blair said, but was cut off by a curious blonde.

"You go to the library," Maka asked.

"Don't look so surprised. Now let me finish telling you what to do…"

I still don't think this is going to work. Maka thought as she made her way slowly to the school library. She had just left the basketball court where she had made up the excuse of needing to borrow money from Soul just in case the library didn't have the book she wanted because she needed him to see her without a jacket.

This was mostly part of Blair's original plan except the other part involved Maka wearing less clothing and making Soul's "possessiveness" come out. Where Blair assumed that Soul, from seeing so much skin – because there would have been a lot – he would have felt the need to cover her up because he would feel that no one else should be able to see that much of her, but him.

Maka disagreed with that part of the plan, not only because too much skin would be revealed, but also because in the end – even though she would have the jacket she wanted – she would also have a very angst filled boyfriend on her hands. So she'd ended up administering the plan with both her own and Blair's ideas.

Lost in her thoughts and anxieties, Maka's trip seemed a lot shorter than what she would have assumed it would be, considering she was walking. She wasn't complaining, however, because she was eager to get the jacket, instead of waiting all day to get it because she was thinking up crazy plans.

Walking into the library, it was just as cold as it was everyday and Maka shivered, thinking she should have gone with a different idea as goose bumps began forming on her skin. Rubbing her arms, she made her way to the labeled area where the book she was looking for was liable to be. Searching through, she had picked up three other books by the time she'd found the one she had originally came for.

It took her quite a while to find it because she continuously looked behind her at the door, adrenaline causing the fingertips resting against the smooth spines of the books to shake. She couldn't quite figure out why she felt this way, she saw him just about every day, but he constantly caused some sort of a reaction in her. And every time that the door would open, it was someone else and not the person she was looking for.

However, when the door opened again after she had turned to walk toward a table, it was Soul that walked in this time. A small puff of air escaped her mouth as she saw him. She lowered her head and opened one of the books to the first page to appear like she had yet to see him.

"I thought you were only getting one book," Soul's amused voice asked after one of his hands appeared to rest against the bookcase behind her.

"You can't expect me to only get one when there are so many here," She replied smiling up at his equally smiling face.

"Of course not." He laughed and the soft yet deep sound coursed through her, making her shiver. She then asked herself when his laughter had started affecting her this way, much like everything else about him.

"Are you cold," He asked, his voice quiet and a bit of worry swimming in his eyes.

"A bit," She responded. He then proceeded to remove a drawstring bag from his shoulder that Maka hadn't noticed before that moment and pulled a jacket out of it. He traded the jacket for the books and allowed her to pull the leather over her shoulders.

"Did you have that bag when you left the apartment," Maka asked after he'd settled the bag back onto his right shoulder.

"Yeah," He said trying to appear nonchalant and failing.

"Why were you carrying a bag around that had a jacket in it when you already have one?"

He responded by mumbling something unintelligible and Maka leaned closer to better hear him.

"Sorry?"

"Just in case you needed one," Soul said, louder and more confident this time.

"Cool guys like me don't let their girls freeze do they?"

Maka just smiled and pecked him on the lips.

"Shall we get you back to your basketball game," She asked, turning to place two of the four books back on their respective shelves. When she received a nod, she weaved her fingers with Soul's checked out her books and they made their way back to the courts.

Second attempt status: failure.

Show that Soul is sweet when he wants to be: success.

As the others played their game of basketball, Maka was sitting on a bench on the sidelines, pretending to read her book, when in reality she was thinking of another way to take Soul's jacket. The correct jacket. She pondered just simply going up and asking him if she could wear it instead of the leather jacket he'd given her – it would be quite simple – but she pushed it aside. She'd really rather not ask in front of the others.

It wasn't that they didn't know, but she still had her pride, her dignity, to think about. After this, she wondered if she could just get Tsubaki to ask him for her, but no. That was much too childish. If she couldn't come up with a decent idea, then she'd may as well give up now than resort to something as such.

Then she'd thought, he'd taken off the jacket before the start of the game and it was now lying on another bench only a little ways away. She could just walk over and take the jacket she wanted and replace it with the one over her shoulders and if Soul asked later why she took it, she could just explain that it was warmer and leave it at that.

So, after taking a quick look at her friends on the court, Maka walked confidently – as confidently as she could for as nervous as she was – over to the bench and shrugged off the fabric already on her slight frame and placed it where the other jacket had been before she'd clutched it zealously in her hands.

"Maka?" Soul's voice brought her from her internal victory party and instantly changed her thoughts for the worst.

He looked at the jacket in her hands before a wide grin stretched onto his face.

"You could have just asked me if you wanted to wear it." As he said this, he pulled the fabric from her hands.

"How did you know," Maka asked, puzzled at the fact that he'd figured it out. She hadn't exactly been subtle but boys were supposed to be dense when it came to this sort of thing. Soul certainly seemed like he was.

"A little kitty told me." He smirked and Maka silently cursed the cat that currently resided in her home.

He motioned for her to turn around and held it out for her, allowing her arms to slip into the sleeves with ease. Before she could move, Soul was in front of her, zipping the garment as far as it could go, but he didn't move away. His index finger slid softly under her chin, bringing her face almost level with his – he'd grown taller than her in the years after the defeat of the kishin – and looked down at her. Her face flushed lightly as he leaned down and placed his lips at the corner of hers, seemingly cradled between both her lips and her cheek; warm and affectionate.

When he pulled back, her bare fingertips ghosted over the flush across his cheek bones and stated quietly: "You're blushing."

He straightened at this, putting his hands in his pockets, bunching the sleeves of his blue raglan and smiled, pointed teeth and all.

"'M not. Blushing isn't cool," He said and offered her his arm to loop her own through and nestled them comfortably together.

They started toward the others who had been – and still were – doing a messy variety of things. Kid didn't know what had transpired because he was too busy having a breakdown over the broken pillar on the DWMA that was – for the third time – broken by Black Star and therefore was no longer symmetrical. And said "star" was just simply clueless, too caught up in boasting about himself and goading Kid to notice that the other weapon and meister had stolen his spot light.

The two boys' weapons, however had certainly noticed the heartwarming scene. While Tsubaki smiled gently and averted her gaze so as not to stare impolitely, Liz and Patty were whispering exuberantly to one another, turning around once in awhile to glance at the cuddling couple behind them.

Maka was simply puzzled at the sisters' behavior; it wasn't like it was the first time they'd seen the two of them act "all fluffy together", as Patty liked to put it. Soul remained blissfully oblivious to the antics of their companions, though, preferring to grin smugly because of the girl beside him, which only grew wider when she laid her head on his shoulder.

Once settled, Maka allowed her hair to cascade down and partly cover her face, a satisfied little smile coming across her lips and she snuggled into the warmth and the scent of soul that the jacket provided and into Soul himself.

As she stuffed her hands into the pockets of the jacket, only one thing came to mind:

Mission accomplished.