Disclaimer: If I actually owned these characters, would I be writing on I thought not.

Well, here's installment number three! Enjoy.

Sasori had since retreated inside Hiruko and was still smarting after the public embarrassment he had been force fed; yet, he couldn't help but think that he had deserved it.

How many times had he said things to Deidara for the purpose only to get a rise out of the blond? How many more times had he picked and pulled at any visible flaw he could find, making himself feel superior to his should be partner? The question, however, that irked him the most, that plagued him incessantly, was since when did he care?

He couldn't help but wonder if he was going soft. What was it about that stupid blond that made him second guess himself? He was a ruthless killer, he was a silent assassin, and yet he was feeling guilty over a few simple words he had thrown at the boy. There it was; that stupid word, guilt.

Sasori was sick of being stuck inside his own head, and the only way to get out would be human interaction. He shuddered; not one of his favorite activities, he needed the distraction and if that's what it took, so be it.

With whom could he have a marginally civilized conversation with? Definitely not Kisame, he was a jerk. Hidan and Kakuzu were out on a mission. That left Itachi and Zetsu.

He removed himself from the comforting confines of Hiruko and decided that whom ever he came upon first would be his conversation partner. If he were to continue avoiding Deidara, it would be much easier out of his puppet, and it was hard enough to begin with. He was, after all, dodging his room mate.

He poked his head out the door to his quarters and peered around carefully. He felt like a child. Satisfied with the lack of blond, he ventured out of his room for the first time in three days. He navigated through the halls cautiously, coming upon no one except for Kisame who gave him a sharp toothed smirk.

He turned down the last hallway that would lead him outside when out of the corner of his eye, he noticed two people situated in a small alcove. He turned to them and struggled to see who the two were. One he recognized as Itachi, but the second he couldn't identify because they were shrouded in shadow.

The two were talking quietly, and Itachi's usual mask of indifference was surprisingly not in place. Any type of emotion on the Uchiha's face was foreign and grotesque looking. Sasori wanted even more to know to whom Itachi was speaking with so openly. The puppeteer wanted so much to move closer, to hear some of their conversation, but he felt sure if he did they would notice his presence. Despite his curiosity, he moved on towards the doors leading outside. Unbeknownst to him, a set of eyes watched him leave.

Itachi removed his hand from Deidara's frowning mouth and stated, "Sasori was just here."

Deidara's visible eye widened, "Did he hear any of that, yeah?"

"No, I do not believe so. At any rate, he did not know your identity." Itachi said carefully. He continued, with a smug look on his face, "I could see him squinting to see to whom I was speaking."

"Ah, good, yeah." Deidara sighed, and looked away from Itachi's calculating look. "So it's a deal, hmm?

Itachi scrutinized the clay artist and gave what could have been a tiny smile. "Yes."

Sasori found himself wandering aimlessly through the bit of forest surrounding their compound. He had relaxed some what, but still could not rid himself of the guilt coiling inside of him. He heard a rustle in the nearby bushes and without a second thought flung four kunai into the area. He heard a grunt and he watched as Zetsu appeared looking slightly surprised.

"Asshole." The plant ninja growled.

Sasori let the comment slide, and replied, "I did not know it was you."

"What are you doing out here? You never come out here, puppet."

It was then that Sasori remembered why talking to Zetsu was difficult. "I needed someplace to think."

"Why not inside?" Zetsu spoke stiffly.

"I have had quite enough of inside, thank you." Sasori's lip curled.

Zetsu smirked, "It's because of the blond brat. Yes, it has to be."

Sasori chose not to respond to that. "I could eat him if you want. Yes, he'd be tender and delicious; I can already taste his flesh—juicy and sweet."

Sasori's eyes widened in distaste. "I—that will not be necessary."

"Are you sure? I'd be glad to." Zetsu looked at him hopefully.

"I'm sure." Sasori took a step back from the other ninja. "I'll, just be leaving; I have quite a bit more thinking to do, if you don't mind."

Zetsu smirked wickedly, "Oh no, not at all. Of course I don't mind, what kind of company is a demented puppet?"

Sasori turned quickly and began to walk towards the compound once more. "Never again." He thought. "Never again."

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