We're all acute, little dolls. With painted faces and china hearts.

Bakura was either very annoyed with Malik or avoiding him, Ryou had yet to decide. For some reason, he'd been in control of his body almost constantly in the last day or so. But whenever he begun to dwell on why Bakura had granted him this freedom, the spirit would quickly snap at the notion that he would ever have any reason to avoid anyone. So Ryou had soon stopped questioning the matter and instead took the time to go shopping, do his winter holiday homework, and even managed to contact Joey via the Internet to find out how everything was going in America. He had received a brief explanation, but Ryou remained pretty clueless… Something about an Australian bike gang?

Idiots. Don't they know where the real enemy is?

Ryou rolled his eyes at the spirit's interruption. "You should be happy they haven't even realised you're back," Ryou responded and realised far too late that he had spoken out loud

From across the room, Malik's lavender eyes peered over the edge of his book with a quirked eyebrow.

"Excuse me?"

"O-oh… Sorry I was um… speaking to him." He tapped the side of his head and noticed as Malik's face briefly contorted into one of irritation before returning to his normal careless expression, and his eyes fell back down to his book.

Honestly, Landlord, if you go around speaking to yourself people are going to think you're mad. The voice inside his head chuckled, sending vibrations through his mind.

Think I'm mad? He thought back. You imply that I'm not.

Bakura laughed again at this, and Ryou couldn't help the smile that tugged on his lips. It was rare for Bakura to talk so casually with him, with so very few insults, and needless to say Ryou enjoyed any pleasant company, no matter where it came from.

"I'm sorry," Malik spoke from his chair again. "Would you two like some privacy?"

The smile was quickly wiped off Ryou's face, and he shook his head, feeling a little foolish.

Tell the drama queen to mind her own business.

Why can't you tell him?

Because I don't feel like it, Landlord.

Malik frowned as he watched Ryou's eyes space out again, in that annoying way he did when he was speaking to the pestering voice in his head. Malik grit his teeth, not bothering to hide his annoyance. His patience with the spirit was really beginning to run dry. Suddenly, he slammed his book shut, and Ryou's eyes snapped back into focus, looking a little startled.

"I'll leave the lovebirds to their idle chatter, shall I?"

"Say that one more bloody time, Malik!"

"My god!" Malik clutched his chest. "So you are alive. I was beginning to wonder,"

"Honestly, Malik, jealously is not an attractive look,"

"Jealousy?" Malik let out a short and humourless laugh, "I don't know the meaning of the word."

Bakura rolled his eyes, pushing aside his host's laptop and putting it on the coffee table in the centre of the room, acutely aware of Malik's eyes watching him. But this was nothing new; he was always aware that Malik was watching.

"Where have you been? Is the inside of Ryou's head particularly interesting?"

"Huh," Bakura looked momentarily intrigued. "You used his name. You never use his name."

"What?" Malik suddenly flinched and grabbed the side of his head, as a spike of pain seemed to poke him from behind his eyeballs.

Bakura leaned forward on the sofa. "…You alright?" Despite how hard he tried, concern still seeped through in his voice.

"Fine," Malik grumbled, rubbing his head. "Just another headache,"

"…Any sign of him?"

"No," Malik said shortly. "I wouldn't be surprised if he was behind this, though," he sighed and leaned back in his arm chair. "So, why have you been avoiding me?"

"Needed some space, to think. I think I have a plan for when that wretched Pharaoh comes back. And considering I seem to have plenty of time on my hands, it seems most probable."

Malik's curiosity was caught now. "Oh? Do tell."

"A dark RPG—"

Malik raised his hand, swiftly cutting off the spirit. "Hold it. Correct me if I'm wrong, but didn't you already try that, and didn't it all go horribly wrong?"

Bakura frowned. "Have you ever heard of trial and error? I'm not a super villain, Malik. I can't afford to waste time on elaborate schemes for the sake of variety."

"No, but you'll waste time on a plan that's already been beaten."

"I'm going to improve it," Bakura growled. "The Pharaoh won't know it's a game, not to start with."

"Sounds needlessly complicated."

"More needlessly complicated than mind control, poisoned pills, and crates of dynamite?"

"…I'll admit that wasn't my best plan," the Egyptian admitted.

"Actually, Malik, the sad thing is, it probably was one of your best. And it was still awful," Bakura continued to criticize.

"I'm sorry, not all of us can sit around all day playing with dolls."

Bakura started laughing, and Malik rolled his eyes, letting out an exasperated sigh.

"What are you laughing about now?" he huffed, crossing his arms over his chest.

Bakura took a moment until he was able to speak through the laughter. "You… you are simply the worse 'reformed' villain, ever."

Despite himself, Malik smirked in response. "And I pride myself on that fact."

Oooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Ryou was in utter bliss.

Bakura very rarely allowed Ryou to take off his Ring without receiving an earful about it later, but when he did, Ryou was greeted with an exhilarating feeling of freedom. It was a feeling he chose to indulge in, on occasion.

You see, since owning the ring Ryou had soon learned a few things about said ancient artefact. One, Bakura wasn't completely restricted to the ring. In times of dire need, Bakura can and will use Ryou's body without the necessary aid of the millennium item, however he was loathed to do so. Two, the ring always, always, comes back. Three, bath times are much more enjoyable without a secondary pair of eyes, watching. Bakura, somewhere along the line, had decided that such a small virtue to such a very useful host wasn't really too much to ask, and soon had agreed bath times were strictly 'Ryou time'.

Ryou thoroughly enjoyed himself during this time, taking as long as he could with his actual bath. He then treated himself to snacks and TV while the Bakura was none the wiser in his ring… It was the closest Ryou had gotten to rebellion since Duellist Kingdom, and it was a small victory in his on-going war with his parasite.

He let out a puff of breath, watching the steam coming off the water and into the frigid December air. Even with all the doors and windows closed, the apartment was still fairly cold at the best of times. Ryou allowed himself to wonder, deep in his own thoughts. It's no surprise that Ryou's mind mostly consisted of the spirit. Between his games and keeping up with the apartment, Ryou didn't really have much else to think about, so as ever he let his mind ponder over the spirit's existence, over memories and conversations and how their host/parasite relationship had vastly changed since the events of Battle City. Although Ryou was slow to admit it, he was feeling less like a hostage in Bakura's plans and more like an idle tool. He used to fight back, to protest and argue but… he was finding the need to do so less and less. He'd even shared in idle chatter with the apparent 'villain,' and Ryou's black and white world was now a very foreboding shade of grey…

Knock.

Smash.

Ryou jolted from his comfortable slumped position in the bathtub, the water swirling around him and threatening to spill over the edge. He stayed completely still, straining his ears for any other sounds from the apartment. When he heard none, he eventually called out.

"Malik?" There was no response, and after a prolonged moment of waiting, Ryou sighed and got out of the tub, drawing his much loved bath time to an end. "Malik is everything ok?" Still there was no reply, so Ryou reached for both his ring and towel, wrapping the towel around his waist and holding the thread of the string in hand, still loathed to put such an abrupt end to his alone time. He wandered down the short hall and peered around the corner to look into the living space and kitchenette, seeing no sign of Malik. Chewing the inside of his lip, he continued to venture onwards when he spotted the remnants of an amber bottle smashed on the kitchen tiles. He settled the ring on the counter and leant down to investigate, soon spotting the contents of the bottle.

"Headache pills?" he read aloud. They were his father's strong prescription ones from back when he got awful migraines while doing mass amounts of paper work. Scratching the back of his neck and brushing away a few damp strands of hair, Ryou stood up and reached to grab the ring back. He decided that it was sadly time to get the spirit involved, but his hand only grasped air. He blinked and turned to face the counter to find there was indeed no ring.

His heart began to thud a little unnecessarily fast, and he whipped his head around. Not that there was any real panic; the ring always found its way back to him.

"You should really be more careful with this."

Ryou jumped about a mile when he spotted the tan man leaning casually on the other side of the counter top.

"You scared me half to death!" he gasped, grabbing at his chest. A quick assessment of the man told Ryou he was dealing with Marik and not Malik. The news was oddly not as unsettling as he would have expected, however the other having the ring again was not exactly a comforting thought either.

"Here." He handed the ring back to Ryou, again seeming strangely casual. Ryou stared at it cautiously before reaching out to take it, as if the other would whip it away again last second. Once he firmly had the ring back in his possession, he stared at the other in confusion.

"Why steal it if you're going to give it back?"

The other gave a lazy shrug. "I dunno, why not?"

"Don't you want it? For some evil diabolical plan that I can't even wrap my head around?"

Marik laughed, and the sound caught Ryou off guard, causing him to jump a little, "Honestly, Ryou. You group me with your damn parasite far too often." He began to explain, "I'm not really feeling the whole 'revenge and revolt' vibe so much anymore." His lazy amusement was wiped off his face, and he turned to the side, looking very distant.

"…Marik?" Ryou called out timidly, the other looking very space out, worrying him slightly. The other seemed to snap back into focus at the sound of his name being used, and a grin stretched across his face. Ryou noted how even the smallest emotion seemed exaggerated on this man's over animated face.

"You said my name!" He looked proudly at Ryou like he were a pet who had learned a new trick.

"W-well…" he mumbled, his thumbs running over the ring clasped in his hand, "you used mine."

Another silence stretched out between them as Marik watched Ryou, as if observing a particularly odd specimen. Ryou was made aware of the fact he was still dripping.

"I-I need to… get changed," he mumbled, the simplicity of their conversation yet again so surreal….He expected something else from a shadow-wielding madman.

"Hm," the other replied and turned away, his eyes roaming across the kitchen cabinets for something to occupy himself with.

Ryou waited another moment. Marik's sudden disinterested struck him as odd, but there was very little this man did that didn't seem weird for one reason or another, so he decided to let it be for now. Turning his back on the other, he headed back to his room, begrudgingly returning the ring to its place around his neck.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooo

A/N: bath time is 'Ryou time' if you know what I mean.