"So help me Death, Franken, if you don't get out of that shower I am breaking this door down."

Inside the bathroom, Stein ignored his irritated partner. So, yes, he had been in the embrace of steaming hot water for the past forty-five minutes. Yes, he'd locked the door and hadn't even thought of whether his partner would need said bathroom. Yes, he was taking his sweet, sweet time.

That was still no reason for the petite blonde to threaten his home with violence.

"Franken!" she said, annoyed that he hadn't responded, pounding on the door.

"Marie," he replied, lathering the soap further in his hair before stooping to let the water wash it out. Evidently, not many showers were created for anyone of his height, and the showerhead usually directed the spray of water right to his chest, which was impeccably clean due to the fact.

"Franken, I kind of need the bathroom," she informed, hopping about on the other side of the door. When she woke up and listened to the water running, she simply chose to get ready without utilizing the bathroom and disturbing him. She could wash her face afterward.

But after getting dressed, fixing her hair, checking that she had all the papers she graded and rechecking Stein's bag to make sure he at least had papers, making coffee and reading two magazines, she'd had it.

"In what sense?" he asked, almost feeling the urge to whistle as he poured soap onto a washcloth.

"In the urgent sense!" she responded, feeling her face heat up slightly as she rubbed her thighs together, jumping from foot to foot. "You're a doctor!" she added irritably, "figure it out. What are bathrooms usually used for?"

" Bathing," Stein claimed cheekily, smirking.

He listened to her strangled groan triumphantly.

"Franken~" she whined.

"Marie, there are multiple trees outside you can utilize."

"But people could see me!"

"There's a graveyard nearby," he was smirking even wider, "not many tend to frequent it."

He held back the suddenly overwhelming urge to grin when he heard her sound of disgust. He, of course, wasn't being entirely serious. He turned to wash the lather off of his back, feeling the heat sap some of the tension in his muscles. He was just getting ready to turn the shower off and leave so Marie could relieve herself when he heard the smash.

Undoubtedly, the bathroom door wasn't going to be locking properly anytime soon. In fact, it was more than likely that he didn't even have a bathroom door anymore. Marie wasn't exactly known for small scale attacks: he could practically envision the door falling off the hinges.

"Marie-"

"I don't care!" she said, "I'm not going outside, you can deal with it!"

When he looked at the shower curtain (a recent addition to his home, courtesy of Marie) he saw her silhouette moving.

He immediately turned away and focused all of his attention on the stream of water coming from the showerhead, and stooped further so he could throw his head under the spray, effectively blocking his ears slightly.

Marie, meanwhile, was doing everything she could to avoid looking at the shower curtain. It was a little on the sheer side, and besides which, the situation was embarrassing enough for both of them. However, she figured a minute or two of awkward, terrible bathroom sharing was less horrifying than leaving a puddle outside the door, or going outside where people could see her.

Marie's roughed it multiple times back when she was an active weapon collecting kishin souls, but she'd gotten spoiled by the comfort of Oceania, and then, upon returning to Nevada, she wasn't exactly expecting to have to wander into a forest, or Death forbid, the nearby graveyard, to pee.

In the shower, Stein coughed and cleared his throat, multiple times, as though to cover up the noise of Marie sliding her skirt zipper down. Marie looked down and away. He was a doctor! If he could insert a catheter, he could deal with this.

Unfortunately, when she finished, the utter embarrassment was more than set in.

"Franken?" she sheepishly called out.

"Hm?. . . yes? Marie?"

"I need to wash my hands," she informed, "And, er. . .flush."

"Oh, hm, of course."

"Could you. . .turn the shower off. . .just for a second?"

He did so, and found it incredibly awkward to just stand in his own shower while the water wasn't running. He was done with it in any case, but without the sound, the situation was suddenly increasingly more strange.

"Thanks. . .I, uh, I didn't want to scald you," she said, talking over the sound of the flushing toilet as though to diffuse the situation. In the shower, Stein fidgeted, wishing he had a pair of pants.

He listened to the tap turn on, the soft squeak of the hand soap dispenser. He ran a hand through his shaggy hair, and then felt at the stubble on his jaw. When he found out that Marie'd locked up all the razors in the house, he knew it was because she was terrified of what he would do to himself, what he almost did do to himself a few days ago, when she found him desperate to put a blade to his throat.

It was one thing for him to be around scalpels and instruments of science: those things she couldn't control. But for such a mundane task to bring him so close to the maw of the beast, especially because she'd given him the razor to start with, it must have hurt her, seeing him reduced to such a state over such a simple thing. He figures she did get something out of it, though: he has a suspicion that she prefers him on the scruffy side.

Ha. It serves her right, then, her embarrassment for interrupting his blissful shower. She's trapped him in a bathtub. What a silly, ridiculous woman.

Something began to well up in him, but it didn't feel related to the madness. It wasn't that pounding in his throat and fingers and stomach telling him to destroy, that harsh buzz. Instead, it was almost bubbly.

Humorous.

He heard the rustle of a towel, Marie drying her hands, no doubt, and then shuffling.

"I'll. . .I'm. . .I think I should. . .um, I'm going to. . .finish breakfast?"

He didn't respond, instead, turned to look at her begin to leave through the shower curtain with a smile twitching on his lips. When he saw how high she had to step over what he assumed was his felled door, the utter absurdity of the situation just bubbled over him and he snorted, stopping Marie in her tracks.

". . .Franken?"

He pushed his soaked hair out of his eyes just in time to see her shape whirl around, what must have her foot barely missing the doorknob, and he snorted again. It was absolutely hysterical, unbelievable, that here stood the great weapon Meister Doctor Franken Stein, who'd captured and slaughtered more enemies than he could keep track of. He who struck fear in the hearts of those he interrogated, who still inspired people to scamper away when they saw his form moseying in their direction, who beat up others for fun in his younger day.

The dubbed "genius", "strongest Meister to ever walk the halls of the DWMA": left standing in his birthday suit and forced behind a frilly, sheer ivory shower-curtain after a woman who barely hit four foot ten smashed the door down. And to take a piss, on top of it all.

He couldn't help falling back against the wall and laughing.

"Franken?" Marie asked, concern coloring her voice. "Franken, are you okay?"

Any of her previous embarrassment had left her, her mind narrowing until only his wellbeing was the focus, and that made him laugh, too. Because he was fine. He felt better than he had for weeks, when the madness pressed against every millimeter of his brain without rest. Here, because of her, if only for a short moment, he was free from that oppressive dreariness. Here he could fall against the slick chrome of his shower, which reflected more light than he would want with the new lightbulbs Marie insisted they buy, and laugh without fear that it would turn into a spine-chilling giggle.

"I'm not-" he gasped for air, ready to finish with 'going through an attack', but Marie, always quick to action, stepped forward in two swift, effective strides, and grasped hold of that stupid, flimsy shower curtain and downright ripped it away and off the rod.

He thinks, were he to follow the general rules of etiquette in such situations, for there were general rules, unwritten or no, he would grow silent, perhaps flustered. But he brings a hand to his side, laughing harder.

Marie's concern was heartwarming, in a way. Especially so now-a-days, when he felt so off kilter he could teeter on nothing and fall into the maw of whatever beast was lurking, waiting for his bones.

But this was just too much. When he tilted his head down to look at her, his stomach beginning to cramp with how hard he was laughing, he saw her hands glowing gold. She'd stepped into the tub, her hands reaching for his face while her eye stared directly into his own.

She was tiny, always had been. And even in her ridiculous heels she had to stretch up to reach his face. She was probably going to slip in those silly shoes of hers, but even knowing that, knowing he was fine, knowing it would be mortifying for her, he didn't stop her hands from cupping his face.

It seemed that Marie long since learned that insanity did not care what situation he was in. He could be doing anything and be slammed with the force of the Kishin wavelength, needing something to cling to. Marie, the self-designated as well as unanimously designated beacon of sanity had an obligation to help him, it was her job. A job she didn't mind, but a job nonetheless. And when she was all business, she pushed everything aside for her task.

H knew it took a lot for her to overcome her emotions and come rushing to 'help' him. She was effective, a loyal partner: she just happened to be more than a little infatuated. With him. The chuckles kept flowing when he remembered, had she not believed him to be in need of her, she'd have a hard time keeping her eye from wandering.

Crazy did not wait for anyone to towel off and put on boxer-briefs. Crazy was also not a reason for her to "take advantage of him", as she would think of it.

For the shortest of moments, he questioned whether he should act for her. Wouldn't it be for the best to lie to her, to pretend it was a bout of madness and quell his laughter now that she was caressing his stubbled jaw?

Probably. But, mad or no, her wavelength was no joke when it came to his frazzled nerves. Just as the hot water sapped the tension from his body, Marie was removing the last of it. And when she held his face in her small, small hands, she treated him as though he were a precious thing, which was always nice.

Besides, he wasn't really a man to pass up an opportunity to fluster anyone. He had to put in more effort than usual for his pranks recently, but this was just so easy. A sane man wouldn't pass up the opportunity.

"Ma. . .rie," he started, biting down on the inside of his cheek to calm himself.

"Franken. Franken, you're okay. Come back, alright? Fight it."

The sadistic edge to him took pleasure in letting her believe he was going through a panic by refusing to reply to her for a long moment.

"Franken! I'm right here, I'm with you. You're alright!" she urged, a tactic which would have more effect were he in need of it.

"I know," he laughed out, unable to keep her in the dark for much longer. "Marie. Marie, I'm fine. I've been fine the entire time. I just found it funny."

She froze. The glow to her hands fizzled out entirely.

Everything inside of her seemed to shut down for a second before rebooting all the emotions she'd tossed to the wayside for Stein. The embarrassment that shuddered through her lit her face up as though she were a candle.

Oh.

She must have confused the spike in his wavelength for madness when it was just a fast burst of overwhelming amusement. She had, not only barged into his singular bathroom while he was in it, but also tore into the shower without need. And oh. Oh, he was naked. Naked? Naked. Here. Oh, here. In his shower. The shower she tore into needlessly. In front of her? Oh, yes. Yep.

Nope, that wasn't a problem, at all. Marie's seen plenty of naked men. She's a grown woman. Grown. Woman.

When did this happen? Why did that happen? Shouldn't she move? Oh and she was touching him. Still? Still. His jaw was in her palms. Oh. Oh, that was intimate. It was all really, all too intimate. He stared into her face, amused beyond all reason. Amused! As if he weren't sinfully, stupidly naked. In front of her. She was stretched near him so close that, maybe if she just inhaled in too deeply, she'd be draped across him. Across Franken. Naked, stupid, amused Franken.

"Oh, Death. Oh. Oh, Death," she said, letting go of him as though his flesh had burned her palms.

She took a step back, and, in accordance with Stein's slip-and-fall hypothesis as well as how fate was not on Marie's side today, her heels caught a particularly slick patch on the chrome tub, and the back of her legs caught the raised edge as well, upsetting her balance.

In the millisecond before Stein caught her, unwilling to see her head crack open on the broken-down door edge on his bathroom floor, she sent a furious curse to whoever was listening for ever letting this happen to her.

Stein, meanwhile, was trying not to laugh, again, as Marie went down, flailing and trying to grasp hold of the shower curtain that was no longer there. Instead, her hands groped against his bare, wet shoulders, which made her release him immediately after, causing her to pinwheel back even faster. Probably, the entirely of her body was bright pink and he figured he'd done enough for the day.

He made sure to arch his body away from her own when he caught her, easily able to bring a long arm around behind her to stop her fall, as though they were dancing and he'd dipped her. Several droplets of water rolled off of him onto her and when a drop dripped onto her cheek, he was almost surprised it didn't fizzle out upon contact with how warm she must have been.

She would squirm in his grasp if he didn't start chuckling again. Instead, supported by nothing but her Meister's arm, she just brought both hands to her face and covered it.

"I hate you," her muffled voice called out.

"You need to lift your feet when you walk, Marie," he informed, finally starting to calm down.

They stayed like that for a single moment before he leaned over and dropped her down farther in the dip, not even prompting a squeak when he swept his other arm under her knees and swooped her out of the tub and back onto the less slick floor of his bathroom. When her feet stabilized, he finally let her go.

She groaned, her face still buried in her hands.

Stein simply stepped out of the bathtub as well, grabbing hold of the same towel Marie previously dried her hands with and rubbing his hair with it. When he saw the empty space where his door once was and previously mentioned door on his floor, he bit on his tongue, ready to giggle once more.

"I can't believe you did that," Marie muttered out, absolutely refusing to look anywhere but at her own fingers. He lifted his hand and turned his screw backward; the click calming him enough. He wanted to remain silent, standing in the bathroom and drying off, intent to confuse Marie once more.

After a few more seconds, the woman sighed, realizing he wasn't going to leave.

"Are you decent, at least?" she asked, the blush creeping down her neck once more.

"Yes," he answered and Marie couldn't find a single note of deceit in the word. She didn't trust him any farther than she could throw him, but considering she could throw him pretty far, she was content to give him the benefit of the doubt, as well as get the hell out of that bathroom, so she took her hands off of her face. She looked up and then immediately flew her palms back the second she caught another explicit view of the sadistic, ridiculous man she had a crush on since DeathDamned high school at Shibusen.

Her ears filled with the sound of his hysterical laughter again. Greatest Meister to ever walk the halls of the DWMA her clothed behind: more like the greatest prankster she'd ever met. She was going to punch him. She was. Really.

"Franken!"

"You really shouldn't dawdle, Marie. We need to leave in 15 minutes for class. And we still haven't eaten breakfast," he said, unable to resist the urge to drape the towel over her shoulders after grabbing his glasses and pants.

Marie tore it off, balling it up and throwing it as hard as she could in his general direction with her eye closed, but it unfurled in the air uselessly. He chortled in response as he left the room to get dressed.

When she heard the fading laughter, she only groaned once more.

She sure knew how to pick 'em.

Gettin' silly up in here~ I've had some sad arse fics recently. Have some humor. Have some more.