Redeemer

Mello was groggily about to clamber into the shower when his bedroom laptop sounded a message. He grumbled, but dutifully moved to the screen, eyes landing on L’s monogram followed by the ironically nonchalant: “Light and Matt are about to kill each other, no one’s monitoring the system…”

Mello blinked at the screen as if the message did not make much sense. And then he cursed. Had he really been so tired as to completely overlook the fact that he'd left the two of them alone? Unbelievable. He of all people should have known better. Of course L would not interfere, likely sitting there watching with a side-dish of popcorn and attentive interest, so it was up to Mello to do something about it. He yanked his shirt off the edge of the bed—now properly covered in cat hair as Noriko had found it a most perfect nest until she was sent tumbling backward with rude awakening—and tugged it over his shoulders as he hurried out the door, tearing through the hall in hopes of getting downstairs before any blood was shed.

* * *

"Agreed," Matt snarled with blowing just the right amount of smoke into the bastard's face, he twisted his fist out of Light's firm hold; inverting the hold so that it was his blunt nails that pressed into Kira's wrist. At some other time it would have been fine to stop there, but the redhead made it a point to contend that initial defense by twisting Kira's hand—a motion that not only brought them closer despite his intense dislike for the man, but also enabled him to press that free hand to his opponent's throat, burning cigarette still held between two fingers, ready to singe at the slightest slip-up. "So long as you get it through that thick skull of yours that I do not take your shit."

Kira’s gaze went razor-sharp, he was definitely conscious of the searing cigarette tip beside his skin, but that didn’t stop him from baiting the redhead further. “And when are you going to understand that you don’t threaten me?” He snarled, a moment before spitting in Matt’s face spitefully.

It was as Matt flew at him, intent on tackling him down and beating the living hell out of him that Mello miraculously appeared between them to stop the fight. Didn’t matter, the weight of his long-time lover collided against him as Matt viciously lunged, and Mello had to literally shove Kira back to protect him from a blow that probably would have caved his face in.

“Break it up!” Mello hollered, and it wasn’t as lost on him as he would have liked it to be that he was essentially defending the “bad guy” against his life-long partner, and that he—of all people—was breaking up what was essentially a schoolyard brawl…or about to be.

“I’m sick of this shit Mell!!” Matt yelled, relenting only in the interest of venting his frustration. “I’m sick of everyone catering to this bloody cunt for no good reason!! Have you all gone out of your bloodyfucking minds?!? Is he such a mind-blowing fuck in bed that you’ve all lost the bleedin’ plot?!? That you all forgot he’s fuckin’ KIRA?!? The one we swore to hunt down and catch and punish accordingly?!?” He directed his rant to the room—“This includes you—L!!” He yelled, knowing full-well the detective was watching. Matt whirled back on Mello, his eyes flashing fire at Light just standing there behind the blonde, obviously amused he’d pushed all the right buttons.

Yeah, the redhead was right, but that wasn’t the point. “Matt, this isn’t going to solve anything right now,” Mello said, calmly, still firmly situated between his sparring lovers.

“It’ll solve my bleedin need to punch his face in!” The redhead snapped, and Light chuckled, which had Mello shooting him an aggravated glare.

“Would you just stop?” Mello growled, but his irritation was met by that infuriating impassive shrug, which had Matt suddenly ready to swing again, and this time the momentum as he lunged made Mello stumble back toward Light, just enough that Matt’s fist just barely swiped Kira’s cheek over the blonde’s blocking shoulder. There was an uproar of seething and swearing on all parts, and Mello was firmly sandwiched between them when his attention suddenly snagged on the monitor—

He did a double take, and his pause was profound enough that it rallied the attention of the other two, who both went from seething to gaping as their eyes set on the very bizarre image of L…and Linda… passionately making out…

Hands firmly planted on either lover’s chests, Mello stared, jaw falling slack after the initial denial wore off and reality sunk in because this was streaming and it was very much still going on and his mind had no choice but to admit that it was real. “What the…”

“Fuck!?” Matt finished for him, the first to break away, shove the chair aside and come closer to the monitor. That particular camera had been kept on one of the smaller desk monitors as there was little need to supervise L on a large screen. Mello was right behind him, disbelief etched on his face in one of those trademark “wtf” expressions that under most circumstances could be pretty goddamned humorous but right now was felt across the board.

“You’ve got to be kidding me…” the blonde uttered, head tilting back into disbelief mode because it just did not compute. It had been difficult enough to accept the fact that L was most definitely fucking Light on a normal basis, but to see Linda pressed against him, kissing him feverishly as if he were the last remaining thing on this earth, but not only that, the sentiment returned, was just too goddamned bizarre. And of course, neither of them could figure out how to best go about interrupting it because it just… did not… compute.

So the fight was forgotten, tempers deflating as a result of the all too unrealistic display. Mello practically choked as Linda climbed up onto the detective’s lap, arms wound tightly around his shoulders. “I’m about to claim insanity on this one…” he heard the redhead mutter beside him, coffee mug suspended halfway to his lips. Of course the concept of turning away never did occur to them, at least not just yet. This sort of thing simply… did not happen.

There was the temptation of backtracking the footage to just see when and how this bizarre display had begun. And was Linda out of her mind? Mello’s expression seemed to say so, and Matt had already resolved to that fact, at last sipping his coffee just as the blonde girl unexpectedly grabbed the edge of L’s shirt and peeled it off of him, revealing a firmly toned, and very pale torso, right before she totally wrapped herself back around him.

At that, Matt spit the coffee immediately out—managing to deliberately miss the equipment, he splattered it squarely across Light’s chest instead—and Light was greatly unamused. Matt snorted, realizing what he’d just done, and how deserved it was, and Light scowled darkly.

“Lovely,” he muttered, disgruntled and thoroughly disgusted. Matt shrugged impishly and Mello had to hide the snicker behind his hand, even though his attention was still too riveted on the screen.

“Should we interrupt?” Matt managed at last.

“Would you want to be interrupted?” Light half snarled, wiping some of the staining coffee out of his shirt.

“She’s a bloody virgin!” Matt yelped.

“She’s legal,” Kira shot back. Then snickered. “We all lose it some time.”

“Not to L!” Matt snapped incredulously.

And Kira’s return smirk was as wry as it could get. “Why not? I did.”

Another dubious choke on Mello’s behalf, because now Linda was quite wound about the detective and there seemed to be no stop signs along that particular road…

"You're a different case all together," Mello offered casually. He won’t actually go through with it, is what he actually wanted to say but did not really believe, nor would anyone else seeing as Linda was now flat on her back against the couch and delightfully pinned beneath L’s weight. She was flushed, her once neat pony tail falling away in minutes, her button-down shirt pulled open quite firmly causing her to gasp and shudder.

It was a train wreck. Mello could not bear to watch any more but had yet to make an effort to turn away. The redhead lit up, eyes wide as he shook his head, looking away long enough to miss the source of his lover’s half-choke beside him. At least there was no sound to go along with the spectacle, if there was their brains would likely trickle out of their ears within minutes.

Light, ironically wasn’t watching, at least—not on that monitor. He had the laptop open over on the far side of the room however, and Mello wouldn’t doubt if he was peering in on the scene there. Nevertheless, it seemed quite firmly passed the point of no return by then—Linda’s nails digging into L’s back, their lips quite breathlessly tangled together—her creamy legs wrapped around his hips—he still had his jeans on, but they were obviously loosened… though more obvious was the very telling motion of their bodies…

The question quickly went from ‘what is she thinking?’ to ‘what is he thinking?’ But by that point, both Matt and Mello’s jaws had dropped to the floor.

“Am I really seeing this?” Matt muttered around the cigarette.

“In real time,” Mello replied still gawking.

“That’s because you’re both just as bad as he is,” Light called over, kicking his own legs up on the couch to happily resume whatever it was he’d been doing earlier… no one was supervising him at that moment either… but the fact was lost on his present, and unpresent company. He could have laughed, but he restrained himself.

“You’re all a bunch of voyeuristic perverts,” he chuckled. “Besides, you don’t know him very well if you didn’t realize he has a thing for hot little blonde chicks.” An allusion to Misa…ironic.

“Forgive us if we weren’t present to watch him froth over Misa,” Mello returned, not oblivious to the reference. Christ—he’d just used the word “froth” in relation to L and Misa, the sky must have been falling outside. But the blonde looked away at last, pushing long jagged bangs from his eyes, the image had been engraved into his mind regardless. The feeling seemed mutual because Matt also appeared not to know what the hell to do with himself at that moment and simply sank onto his seat, not so much as touching the large headphones that lay abandoned on the desk. No. They were not going to go there.

Light glanced over them both rather exasperated. “Oh give me a break,” he scowled at last. “Contrary to popular opinion—L is human,” he said. “And he is attractive, and he has sex appeal… in fact, he’s probably better in bed than both of you put together.” He smirked rather impishly at that, and winked at Mello, quite amused.

Matt deadpanned but Mello lifted a brow. “Last I checked it was you who claimed he was not human, not us.” Of course it was quite debatable, but Mello had never doubted L’s humanity… just questioned his sanity. Likely on a daily basis.

“Pffft,” Light waived the remark. “Rubbish.”

“It’s a fallacious statement regardless,” Matt droned, focusing himself on a PSP to preserve his fleeting sanity, “Since you haven’t had us both in bed, you can’t make that comparison anyway.”

“Not yet,” Light smirked, which warranted a patented deer-in-headlights look from the redhead, and a veritable choking blitz from the blonde.

“Keep dreamin’ arsehole,” Matt managed once the initial reaction passed. He returned his eyes to the small screen in front of him, trusting Mello to take over the rest of the surveillance, at least long enough for the madness to pass. Seeing as Light had yet to vacate from the study, he was not about to pull up streaming images of the case and deal with the questioning that would ensue. But other than the rather out of the ordinary activity in the sitting room, the house was free of any suspicious activity. The previous night’s scares remained unsolved however.

Light laughed. “Awww, thought you were feeling left out? That’s how you’ve been acting after all.”

Matt’s resulting glare could have razed mountains, but Kira let it roll off—he was far too amused to take the redhead seriously at that moment. Especially when the sounds of Linda’s whimpering moans from down the hall were loud enough to be heard by everyone in the room. Then Light laughed in earnest—it actually seemed that he was quite proud of his unusual lover for popping Linda’s cherry—so to speak.
Mello was cursing under his breath biting furiously into a chocolate bar and cast Light a stern look. “Alright, we’ve all got shit to do, so in the interest of my sanity, I’m ushering you out of here.”

“You’re kicking me out?” Light laughed.

“Most definitely,” Mello replied, but there was a certain flirty edge to his tone that made Matt grimace and Light’s eyebrow peak.

“I could hold this against you,” Light purred.

“Only if it involves restraints,” Mello countered and Matt choked.

“Jesus Christ, Mell,” he grunted, reaching for the headphones out of habit—it dawned on him then: “You know, if L knocks up Linda he and I are gonna have words…”

Light found that statement particularly hysterical, and he snapped the laptop closed. “You sound like prude ,” he teased, and it seemed that he’d definitely changed his strategy towards Matt in the last several minutes.

“Because I actually stop to think of the bloody consequences every so often?” Matt countered with a scoff. “Right. I’m a goddamned bleedin’ prude. Whatever you say.”

Mello was shaking his head, beyond trying to figure out just what was going on here anymore. They’d both flip-flopped from the prior brawl. Whatever the reason, he had things to do, Matt had things to do and Light… well, the blonde was sure that Kira could find plenty of things with which to amuse himself. “Give it up and get the hell going already,” he muttered, nodding toward the exit and in essence herding Kira toward the double doors.

“Actually there are better words for you than prude,” Light countered, nonchalantly snapping the laptop closed, and half acknowledging Mello’s attempts to get him to leave. “But I’ll leave those to your imagination,” he purred with a wink in Matt’s direction, before at last exiting the room and closing the doors behind him. His haughty chuckle could be heard as he left them in his wake, and Mello glanced at his image, still laughing as he crossed the various screens and made his way back upstairs.

“Prick,” Matt grumped. And his eyes shifted up. “What the fuck do you see in him anyway?”

Mello appeared momentarily puzzled. “Sometimes I wonder about that myself,” he muttered and almost immediately laughed. Likely not the response Matt had been looking for – seeing as the redhead deadpanned and promptly returned to his game – but it was an honest one all the same. Mello swept in, interrupting to claim a kiss. “Get back to work. I’m taking a goddamned shower and locking myself away in my study. I’ll bring you coffee when I come back down,” he promised and Matt grinned.

“Deal.”

“Good. And let’s avoid the brawls a little while longer. You two are more alike than you think.”

The redhead scowled. “Watch the fuckin’ insults.”

* * *

Oh my god… and that first initial thought sighed itself in her brain with a glowing, almost giddy after-good-sex satisfaction that still tingled gratefully in her numb and buzzing body before the reality began to solidify and ‘oh my god’ quickly became Oh. My. God. Had that just happened? Had that really just happened?

She’d slept with L.

Oh. My. God.

Linda’s eyes widened at the ceiling, but she didn’t move, because they were still both rather tangled together, breathing heavily, coming back down to earth. L’s weight was anchoring against her body, between her legs—his skin still warm and soft as the dampness dried in the cool air. And Linda’s hands were still twining gently in his hair—soft and feathery between her fingers and she tried to remember just how this had happened—what was going through her mind? Waking up pressed so contentedly against him was part of it—that solid protective presence in her dreams was a reality when she opened her eyes. She’d been so grateful he’d stayed with her when she remembered how frightened she’d been…

And then he’d done that unexpected gesture, he’d stroked her face affectionately to alleviate the fear that still lingered in her eyes… she’d kissed him then. The impulse just over took her, and she’d pushed in, pressed against his soft lips—he tasted sweet, like sugar, and suddenly she realized he was kissing her back. The rest was a blur—she wanted him, that was all she could think—she wanted him every way she could have him—her need led the way and the rest of her followed, and L hadn’t rejected her, had done anything but… and now here they were—Linda cradling L while her gaze was fixed on the ceiling…

There was a little bit of panic there, but she kept it contained. Eyes wild as she stared above, afraid to move, afraid to speak. Oh God. He felt warm against her, his breath soft on her chest. And she realized that she was sore in the most delightful way possible–the thought caused her to blush deep crimson. Oh. God.

How did one recover with any dignity from such a thing? It wasn’t normal. She shouldn’t have done it – but oh god, he hadn’t stopped her. His lips had felt wonderful, his kiss intense in a way that Linda had never imagined possible, his grip strong, and the way he’d torn her blouse off had sent her mind crumbling into the abyss of desire. Oh. God! Blonde lashes fell shut against her flushed cheeks and instinctively, her fingers tightened into silky black hair. It was all running back through her mind in the most inappropriate way possible. He’d pushed all the right buttons, drawn lengthy moans from her throat, and whatever pain she’d felt had been quickly displaced by unimaginable pleasure that had her crying out rather loud and desperate.

That was about when Linda realized that they were still very much joined and she still had one leg firmly wrapped around his hips. She chewed on her bottom lip and her breath hitched softly in her throat. Oh. My. God.

When he moved she stiffened slightly, anxious, but his gaze was suddenly on her, and she was utterly lost in the dark dark pools of his eyes—for the first time she could read something that much deeper there—a concern, an affection not shielded by his usual aloof defense mechanisms.

“Are you alright?” he asked lowly, in that deep and feathery lilt of his. Again the back of his long fingers stroked her cheek, and Linda blushed—she didn’t know what to think, but she blushed ten shades of pink all the same.

She nodded at last, and that was about all she could muster at that point, searching for the words that would be appropriate but L was doing a fair job at sending them off before she could properly grasp a cohesive sentence. Her eyes fluttered and she found herself leaning into that touch. “Yeah…” she managed after what felt like an eternity. She was fine. Quite well in fact. At least until she had to face reality and life continued as normally. That would be a tad more difficult.

It was the thought of that reality that had her lean up into him again, seeking his lips. Maybe he’d never kiss her again, or maybe he would, but she wanted to savor this one—one that had her sighing her deep appreciation into him as the kiss deepened, and he cradled her head as if he understood exactly what she was thinking—and he probably did, didn’t he? He was L. He played dumb but he knew more than any of them. It had Linda idly wondering if he’d intended for this to happen? If he knew the moment she gazed into his face, they’d be entwined making love on this couch—or was this too spontaneous for even him to grasp? Linda wanted to know what would happen the moment this kiss broke. She wanted some reassurance—would things be strange? Would he send her away? Declare it a mistake? Would he pretend nothing had happened? Or would he do the opposite? Keep her close? Take her in his arms again? Did she want that? Could she deal with the idea of being L’s lover? …Could L deal with that idea?... could Kira?

The thought suddenly struck her and she remembered the surveillance.

Oh God, they’d seen it all. Who was on watch? Who happened to catch them like this? Were they even watching over L himself? Of course they were. Linda pulled away not because she wanted to break the kiss but because she found herself stiffening with shame and embarrassment. “Oh no…” she groaned spotting the cameras and buried her face in the crook of L’s neck.

Oh God how did she salvage this? It was mortifying, a rush of anxiety hauled through her and she could not bear the thought of having had such an intimate moment witnessed by the others—any of the others, she almost felt like crying just then. But she felt L reach out and key something into the laptop, and she feared he’d just gone back to work without having even let go of her; but he hadn’t, turning instead to press his lips against her ear where she hid in the crook of his embrace and say: “It’s alright, the cameras are off.”

Oh she wanted to believe him—that this was a more considerate thing than she’d seen him do in her entire stay here—as dangerous as it could have been… no that possibility did not occur to her. Or it did, she just did not entertain it.

“Oh God, I’m so embarrassed,” she muttered against his neck.

“Don’t be,” he said. “You have nothing to be embarrassed about.”

She scoffed somewhat self-deprecatingly, but L was coaxing her out of her hiding place, getting her to crook a hesitant gaze at the screen—their camera did very much appear to be off—and Linda laughed a shaky sigh of relief.

“Are you sure?” She said—oh what a stupid question, but she really couldn’t apply much hard logic to this situation considering the position she was still in—the way she still held him against her, the inescapable weight of his gaze upon her, the oh-so-very intimate tether they still shared. Too much she could think, none of it she wanted to…

L nodded in response to her shaky question, and Linda had her arms still wrapped quite firmly around his neck, an embrace that seemed to naturally tighten as she let go of that anxiety that her every move was still being watched and most likely gawked at by Mello or Light or Matt—or all three of them, and as that tension unraveled, Linda found L’s lips were closer to hers again—that they were kissing again, that he still felt so damn good against her—and that like her, he wasn’t exactly ready to depart for normal life at that moment either…

* * *

“Bloody hell,” Matt grumbled, patching through to Mello over the comlink. “L turned off the camera in the sitting room,” he droned without absolutely no amusement. “I don’t think they’re coming out anytime soon—I also don’t think he’s doing a very good job on the surveillance front…”

Mello lifted a brow at the screen. "We're goin' to be havin' words if he actually expects me to get any work done this way," he muttered and flicked his books shut. "I'll be right there." So now, they not only had to cover Linda's shift, but L's as well because the detective was otherwise preoccupied shagging the girl.

There was something dreadfully wrong about that. Muttering irritably all the way, Mello returned to Matt's study, pulling up a second chair from Linda's desk. "Just split the screens," he told his lover who was already doing so without having to be told. Multitasking in such a way would hardly hold them back, but it was nevertheless annoying. If only because they both knew exactly why that particular monitor was now shut off. Textbook across his lap, Mello tipped back in his seat, propping his heels up on the edge of the desk and tossed a glance across the screens before diverting his attention between the two.

Half hour into the combined effort, he happened to glimpse over Matt's shoulder, catching a glimpse of the quite different surveillance on the screens. "What are you up to over there?" He asked.

"Not free to talk about it," was all the redhead told him without looking away from the monitors, his attention swapping almost erratically between binary, surveillance cameras and too-clear satellite images of a city—Tokyo from the looks of it. Mello lifted a brow, but shrugged, accepting the explanation for what it was. He returned his attention to his partition of images, taking note of the lack of interesting events in each one. Upstairs in his room, Light was sprawled on his front across the bed, laptop in front of him and his eyes intent on what he watched. Analyzing B's data was it? The blonde frowned. That didn't seem like a particularly good idea, but who was he to contend with it now? Light had to be kept occupied, that much was true and if this is what it took for him to return to some semblance of himself, then...

"You're over thinking again," his lover's voice cut through the webs of his thought process and Mello blinked, looking up to find Matt glimpsing at him from over his shoulder.

"Yea, I guess I was..." he muttered, chewing on his bottom lip. Seconds later, Matt had flicked a chocolate bar over his shoulder at him. It fell into the blonde's lap and Mello chuckled. "Thanks."

* * *

"Oh, L—!" Linda gasped sharply, huskily into his ear as neatly manicured nails slid down his back in desperation. There was a sheen of sweat upon her brow, her body impossibly warm as she was pressed firmly into the couch with each sway of his powerful hips. She was flushed, head swimming, senses in a flurry because at that moment there was only him; the push of his body, the sensation of his lips at her neck, the taste of his mouth, the heat of his skin. Linda cried out her pleasure with abandon, tightening her thighs around his hips to pull him impossibly close in that last moment of passion.

Down the hall both Matt and Mello froze mid-motion, they were both were trained to hear things most people would not, so the girl's outburst resounded loud and clear.

There was an owlish blink shared between the two. “This is getting all sorts of complicated,” Mello muttered, catching a glimpse then of Light’s svelte form drifting down the stairs and crossing the hallway. He obviously heard Linda too because that musical chuckle of his filled the air as he disappeared into the kitchen to fetch something to eat. Kira was, most certainly, in a very good mood—altogether entirely different from several days before…

* * *

It was all far too perfect, and Light couldn’t help but think that over and over again. Everything today had worked to his advantage—everything. Distraction and misdirection aplenty—he was feeling rather brilliant…truly. Of course, he had to thank L later for acting on his hormones—he had to thank Mello and Matt for finding L’s sexuality so utterly alien that they couldn’t help but gawk about it and neglect the more obvious issue in front of them—he most definitely had to thank Linda for finally deciding to jump the detective’s bones. Ha.

Working at the main hub that morning was tricky, to say the least—L still monitored his every move, but it was easy enough to cloak some of his activity under Matt’s identity when he finally figured out how to hack at least that much. Light didn’t need a whole lot of information—he just had to make sure the lap top Matt thrust at him while kicking him out—and kudos for predicting which one it was going to be—was patched in to the SPK and all it’s hackable files. Of course the damn transfer hadn’t loaded all the way by the time Matt re-entered the room, so Light had to push the redhead’s buttons long enough to buy himself time. Was a near-miss there until L started fucking Linda, and then it was just easy as pie. Mello even shooed Light out of the room when Light was wondering just how to work under the radar while sitting there in front of them. He had privacy, now having memorized where all the security cameras were in his own room after staring at the surveillance all morning—he was able to find that one blind spot to angle himself so no one could necessarily see what was on his screen or being written in the “notes” before him.

He had been scribbling notes madly for awhile—notes on Beyond Birthday, certainly—and he had the footage on his screen as well, but he’d split his attention between Beyond and the SPK, and his very mundane binder of loose leaf notes—sitting right out in the open the whole time, was of course, the pages of the Death Note Misa had given to him.

Kira had to wrestle with when exactly to slaughter Near’s team—and how, since he wanted it to be particularly brutal, and he most definitely wanted to watch it via surveillance if he could… that was the extra bonus however, and chances were he wouldn’t be so lucky. He was pretty sure Near would contact L to toss the blame in his court—then again, the boy-wonder might decide to keep the bloodbath under wraps until he found himself some qualified replacements. Nevertheless, with everyone under this particular roof torn between the B case, watching the house, studying for finals, working on secret initiatives, and fucking beautiful blondes—the SPK, at present, was slipping through the cracks.

It would be a blindsiding regardless. And Light decided the SPK would die just after breakfast the following morning. He’d scheduled all the details accordingly—and bless B, the little psycho had been inspirational insofar as method was concerned. Gevanni in particular was going to die in an insurmountable mass of pain. Near himself would be spared—he was Mello’s kill. And Halle… well, Halle, despite Light’s intense dislike for the woman, killing her would put him in a bad position with Mello—so she escaped the noose for now. Regardless, it had to be done in one fell swoop so as not to give Near a chance to counteract with his own notebooks—and considering he would not be struck, Light was 99% certain the game would continue as usual in the aftermath, with Near resorting to an amped-up strategy instead of lashing out at him via Death Note. Which meant hanging around a Sicilian villa like a sitting duck—especially with this lock-down bullshit, was counterproductive to Kira’s purpose. After all, there was still Bella to consider, and she was acting as though Kira himself had fallen off the map for good—which meant she was trading notes with Near, who may or may not have written him off for dead after what happened in Rome… come to think of it, both of their actions seemed a little too sure of themselves insofar as Kira’s permanent absence was concerned, so there was something going on there Light was pretty sure he was not yet aware of. Perhaps L had done something to fake his death for the second time…

Nevertheless, Light was pretty sure both parties would understand he was far from dead by late tomorrow morning. There would be hell to pay—and it was long bloody overdue…

That left two other open ends however: L and Misa. Predicting how L would react to a massive offensive directed and carried out by Kira right under his nose was pretty tricky. It could go many ways, and Light could find himself in the sort of trouble he’d been avoiding all this time. It was best to anticipate the worst—which meant slipping the detective’s noose was suddenly paramount on his priority list… He would need Misa for that, but communicating with her was difficult because she was no longer hiding under his bed—and just then, he had no idea where in the house she was hiding at all. He had, however, left food in his bedroom earlier, in case she was scavenging. Prolonging this B situation would buy him time, and hopefully, with a few more sightings, the SPK would just be off the map for awhile—as long as L stayed convinced it really was B and not some ploy of Near’s…

Light stretched, and made some tea, swiped some food from the fridge and paused again to listen to the last of Linda’s keening cries before she obviously came like a goddess and wilted in L’s arms. He smiled.

L’s arms… despite everything that was about to happen at Kira’s own doing, he hoped that he would not be kept from L’s arms for too long as a result. After all, L was a vengeful bastard—he understood the sentiment, and this plot against the SPK was little more than deserved-vengeance… Kira had ample opportunity to wipe the board right now of all his adversaries, but he wasn’t going to…and he knew that would speak for something as far as L was concerned.

* * *

"You'd think he'd be furious, not cackling about like he's found the bloody motherload," Matt commented dryly, lifting a brow at the screens.

"Damned if I know," was Mello's equally clueless deduction, sparing Light only a glimpse before going back to work. It was too bizarre to even try to analyze it - the whole day had started out on the wrong foot and now tumbled uncontrollably into something all together beyond comprehension.

* * *

It was well past noon by the time Linda managed to get herself into her upstairs bedroom and moreso into an immediate shower, which ended up lasting longer than usual. She was finding it impossible to wipe the silly smile from her face, alternating between severe embarrassment and positively glowing over what had just happened. Her lips felt bruised, her more intimate muscles were still twitching and she felt flushed just thinking about it. It truly had happened, hadn't it? It made her grin like a silly idiot to think: yeah, it had—and he was fucking amazing.

Linda managed to avoid the rest of the household for the remainder of the afternoon, working from her bedroom with as much concentration as she could spare without zoning off to the memory of breathless groans in her ear and their unlikely source. She sat upon her bed, laptop opened before her and chewed the top of her mechanical pencil—already several margins had suffered to her unstoppable hand. And if L sleeping had been inspiring, L in the throes of passion was that much moreso.

It was dinner that would prove more difficult. In fact, Linda was downright dreading it, but not to appear would almost be cowardly. Damnit. So, as she changed out of jeans into something a bit more appropriate for the semi-formal dinner they still all shared, Linda worked up her control. It would be all right. It had to be all right. Nothing to be embarrassed of, right?

It was just a shame that despite all her self-control, the moment she stepped out of her bedroom and nearly collided with Matt, she froze. "There you are," he said casually without any indication that he knew of anything that had taken place. Her eyes widened all the same, blushing despite herself.

Goddamnit.

The redhead was absorbed in his PSP however, and seemed to have missed her blushing entirely. It gave Linda a moment to try and compose herself, but every thing she thought to say, tripped over her tongue before it even crossed her lips.God how was she going to get through this? She slid another wary gaze to Matt, trying to glean what he knew, if anything—was he just being polite? Or had someone else been on watch? Linda swallowed dryly, already having fallen into step beside him.

This was going to be difficult—far too difficult…but Matt was absorbed in his game and not making much conversation, and by the time they got to the dining room, Linda felt as though she needed to be shoved inside.

Dr. Gregory was there, already buttering his bread. Mello was in his usual place, patented slouched and swishing his red wine in a crystal goblet. Light was back at his chosen head of the table, pristine and groomed and seemingly perfect, as though these past few days had just been in everyone’s imagination.

“Feeling better, Yagami?” the doctor murmured without really looking up from his menial task.

“Yes, much,” Light replied politely, shaking the napkin out across his lap. His eyes fluttered up to Linda and he smiled pleasantly in greeting—but there was nothing in his face either that betrayed whether he knew or not. Of all people, it was Kira’s sly acknowledgement she was expecting the most—but he belied nothing.

Disturbingly however, L’s seat was vacant, and Linda’s eyes glued to it—a rash of panic charging through her at the notion that something was wrong—she’d upset him, he was avoiding her, she felt suddenly light-headed with anxiety, and had Matt not casually pulled out her chair for her to sit—like a half-attentive gentlemen—eyes still glued to the screen, Linda was sure she would have fallen down.

Mello caught the nuance. “You okay?” He asked, and he sounded concerned, but again, not a glimmer of anything more in his face.

“Where’s L?” Linda managed quietly, almost embarrassed to ask, as though that simple question would give away the plot entirely.

“Casework,” Matt answered, slouching down in his seat next to the doctor and at last putting away his game. “He said he’d be here shortly.”

"Oh," she said, straightening in her seat and it was not lost on her just how goddamned silly that sounded even to her own ears. Keep it cool Linda, keep it cool goddamnit. She was surprised when her hand was steady enough to hold her silverware without giving away her nerves.

"Linda," Mello said suddenly and she was caught with the fork in her mouth, her blue eyes wide as they fell on him, but he was not even looking up at her - not at first at least. "You're up on first shift after dinner."

"What-oh! That's fine--"

"I've got a shitload of things to do, so I'll be up for a while if you see anything or get yourself spooked," he continued, seemingly oblivious to her inward fidgeting. But this was Mello—he was never so unaware, he was fully capable of reading her body language.

"I'll take over once you go to bed," Matt told him. "Have to be up early anyway."

"Works for me," Mello said with a nod, only then looking to her. "That all right?"

Linda nodded, realizing with horror that they had had to cover her shifts throughout the day since she had been so mysteriously unavailable. And with L also otherwise indisposed the chances that they had doubled up increased. Oh no. She mustered to keep the horror out of her features for a short while longer, all the while hoping the earth itself would swallow her whole.

That was about when L shuffled into the room and took his usual seat. “Sorry,” he muttered to no one in particular, “Business.” His gaze did a quick survey of his present company, and no one in particular met his stare dead-on—well, except for Light—not that Kira’s eyes were terribly readable, and not like L felt like reading them at that moment anyway. He didn’t have to play guessing games with who had gawked into the monitors earlier—he’d seen them watching on his own screen and had half a mind to reprimand them for being so easily distracted—but he figured he’d spare Linda the utter embarrassment so he made no mention of anything and instead made a beeline for the strawberry shortcake cupcakes that were right there in arm’s reach.

He caught Linda looking at him, or rather, trying not to look at him but L didn’t outwardly acknowledge it, instead their eyes met very briefly over a horizon of whipped cream that was tracing a rapid path to his lips, and while L didn’t crack in the least, Linda flushed an obscene shade of pink and tried to hide behind her hair. Oh, that was kinda nice…and L suddenly had a very owl-like expression on his face, which Mello blinked at, and Light flat-out ignored as he said:

“There’s quite a bit missing from the B files.”

“Yes, there is,” L said, mouth full of half a cupcake. “You made it through everything then?”

“Hmm, for the most part,” Light replied, pretending to be mildly distracted with his dinner.

“Footage too?”

“Yes.”

“And?”

Light looked up. “I think I’m beginning to understand why you are the way you are.”

L maintained the owl-look and shoved the rest of the creamy confection into his mouth. “Did you find it disturbing?” he said, swallowing in a rather large gulp, and delicately licking his fingers—Linda watched, and only Mello noticed outright that she wasn’t breathing just then. He nudged her and she jumped a bit, which had both L’s and Kira’s gazes slant in her direction—neither of them moving their heads, just their eyes; sort of like reflecting images across from one another. And neither cracked an expression either.

Linda tried not to choke and reached anxiously for a glass of water to glug it down.

“Of course I found it disturbing,” Light said after a moment. “If I didn’t then there’s a lot more wrong with me than you already think.”

“That’s saying something,” Matt muttered.

Mello took a swig of wine, Light chuckled. “Now it seems plainly obvious to me—and I would venture to say anyone else watching that footage—that Beyond Birthday was, arguably from the outset, completely off his rocker. So what would possess your handlers to keep him around if he was such a borderline menace, and later a devout terrorist of your personal sanity? Seems they were either completely oblivious—or quite deliberately testing you both to see who would come out on top.”

L choked which had Kira’s eyes darting up rather sharply. “Seems a cruel theory,” the detective managed.

“No more cruel than forcing you to share living space with that,” Light defended, his gaze narrow and vaguely baiting. “Did you used to sleep through the night before B came around, L? Or were you always an insomniac?”

L didn’t outright answer, but the mildly knowing spread of pale lips seemed indication enough that Light had hit on it.

Whether or not B had become a source of L’s erratic sleep patterns was not in question, however. In fact, as far as Mello was concerned, this infatuation with BB was becoming downright unhealthy. He frowned, but refrained any possible comments, keeping his thoughts to himself for the time being. At least until it got out of hand. Linda, however, had managed to pull herself together well enough to listen attentively because, at least, she was involved in the case. A case that should not have been dredged up – not in this way. Sure enough Mello had been the first to look into B, but he had been taking a different approach, and sure enough he was looking over it still but unlike L and Linda, he was not convinced that it was B who tormented them now. Hardly.

The day they were chased by ghosts was the day he’d throw his hands up and call it quits. Death notes and shinigamis were enough a shock to swallow, thanks.

“It’s obvious he was positively unstable,” Linda stated quietly. “But what can you tell me from what you witnessed in that footage?”

“Which part?” Light laughed leaning back in his chair. “Truly—he’s not just unstable, he’s demonic. I’ve seen my share of shinigami—and granted Ryuk is one ugly bastard, so was Rem and Sido—but demonic, no, none of them had those qualities. Once you get passed the rotten, skeletal features, bug-eyes and wide toothy grins—the shinigami are just bored listless entities; they’re not evil, and by all means not demonic. It’s safe to say that B probably did not know what it was that allowed him to see the lifespans of people—and that such a thing definitely had a hand in driving him mad—but his inherent evil, that I’m not so quick to blame on shinigami. That’s a lovely little human—or inhuman attribute. But what more would you like me to say? I could recap the footage for you—they were a manner of recorded tests and observations in which B acted unstable—he’s brilliant, but vicious and gruesome and that’s normal I’m assuming. Then there’s a recording where he has everyone convinced he’s L… up until the end when he gives himself away and his tutors realize he’s not—that was probably the most disturbing.”

Light leaned back and sipped his water, his eyes narrow and wise. “If however, you’d like my opinion on the current circumstances… L said it best already, to me at least. B and I both have attributes of the Death Gods—several days ago, those attributes brought me back from the dead… whose to say they couldn’t do the same for B? We don’t know to what extent he functioned in addition to The Eyes. I have an implant—B, for all intents and purposes may just be part shinigami by birth. That would put him by and large far over my abilities with just a simple implanted piece of the Death Note. Therefore it would be foolish to rule out B as a cause behind these sightings altogether. I’m not saying I’m in favor of a psycho I killed coming back to life and running amok inside this house—but better safe than sorry. And by extension—if—it is Beyond Birthday. If we are in the presence of something born of the Death Realm, well, let’s take into account what he is capable of. What he’s done his whole life, is challenge L—aiming to surpass L, maybe ultimately destroy him. L is leaving out quite a bit of personal info on purpose, so only he could say for sure what else B may want from him….” Light paused. “But then what else is there? Well, there’s me. I’m Kira, I killed him—I would imagine he’s not very happy about that. And then there’s the three of you—essentially his replacements, the “good” kids of Wammy’s House who redeemed his position as L’s heir—achieved that position even. Here we all are—we who have L’s deepest attentions on a daily basis, something Beyond fought his whole life to achieve. If we consider that he does pose a threat, that this could be something we are dealing with, well then, taking all of that into account is absolutely imperative.”

He had successfully gained everyone’s attention, but while Linda looked on the verge of spooked, watching him with wide-eyed fascination, Matt was regarding Kira with a dubious look. A wonder he remained quiet at all, but just like his lover, the redhead was not about to accept the theory so easily. In fact, it seemed as if he was impassive to it – let whatever it was come and be done with it. If it was B and if he had been brought back, then they’d just have to be a bit more creative in disposing of the bastard once and for all.

Mello, however, had leaned back in his chair, arms crossing over his chest; digits tapping lightly against his bicep. He looked thoughtful, his gaze ever slightly downcast, brows furrowed. Sure, the explanation had merit, but to buy into it?

“And you’re willing to go so far as to say that he’s survived whatever internment was given at the prison, gotten himself on a plane and flew his arse out here to track us to the middle-of-nowhere Sicily?” he countered.

Light shrugged. “Sure, I’ll play,” he purred, taking the Devil’s Advocate position. “Let’s do the math. The piece of Death Note inside me that gave me the power to resurrect from the dead and claw my way out of sealed mausoleum is miniscule. I was given a lethal injection—moreso than even necessary to make sure the job was done right and quickly, and in less than 24 hours I was fully recovered. B is part shinigami. Let’s even venture to say he’s half—half. What are the odds he’d resurrect that much faster? Probably even before his interment at all? Odds are pretty good by comparison. And it’s been years since his death—he’s had time to get his act together, to plot and strategize, and L has been so busy he was not keeping an eye out for B the way he had been. Why should he? B is supposed to be dead. So B would have the freedom to bodily track him then, wouldn’t he. And L is not easy to track no matter who you are. But B is brilliant, B is the Backup, if anyone can decipher L’s methods, it should be him, right? He spent his life trying to become and then surpass L—so sure, why not? Why not show up out here where we are?”

Light raised an eyebrow. “But how about a step farther? If B is part shinigami—if he is even half, then what else is he capable of? I’ve seen shinigami drift through walls, disappear into thin air—fly.” Light laughed as though he didn’t believe it himself, but was just throwing it out there for the hell of it. “It sounds utterly ridiculous, but it would go a long way to explain his disappearing-reappearing act in this house, wouldn’t it?” And there, that semi wicked smirk as though he enjoyed the creep factor about the whole thing.

Linda shuddered at the thought, opening her mouth to say something but Mello interrupted her. “You’re playing all right,” he chuckled and shook his head. “But I’m not buying it.” And perhaps it was his own set of beliefs that kept him from doing so, despite how far those had been stretched, despite the fact that he had witnessed more in the past six years than he had ever thought possible. Enough to allow him to accept the ridiculous situation as a damned good possibility. But he didn’t. Wouldn’t. Not until it passed from wild speculation into something more.

Light shrugged. “I’m speculating, but all things considered—and I really mean all things considered—Death Notes and shinigami and what happened several days ago, is it really so tough to believe? One more notch in the odd supernatural events of our lives lately. It is better to err on the side of caution isn’t it?” Light let that sentiment settle and lowered his voice just a tad. “Beyond Birthday is dangerous. If there is even one iota of a possibility that this theory holds weight, then it can’t just be shrugged off. Here’s what I do know however—B’s demonic, grisly tendencies aside. I’m tossing around conjecture based on observation and deduction of case files—but we’re on lockdown right now because the person who knows B best, put us there. That’s intuition—L’s intuition,” Light tipped his head to the detective. “Correct me if I’m wrong,” he said.

L had yet to add to the conversation at all, but just then he said: “You’re not wrong.”

The blonde’s lips twitched but he said nothing, favoring a more sensible explanation of what the hell was going on around here regardless of just how sure L was of his own conviction. It was worrisome, sure enough, but Mello was not about to start jumping at shadows as Linda had been the previous night. As she would likely be later tonight while on watch. Mello have to stay around while she was glimpsing over her shoulder through the length of the shift, if only so she would not be so desperately spooked by her own shadow. The fact that he thought he saw something in Light’s room the previous night had been enough.

Mello sighed and shoved a piece of bread into his mouth.

“What course of action does this leave us with?” Linda asked, surprisingly enough.
“I haven’t decided yet,” L muttered, everyone at the table waited for more, but there was nothing. He lapped at the whipped cream on his finger and let it lie.

“Then let’s pretend it is B,” Light suggested, “What do you think he is after specifically?”

“Your theory is credible in that respect,” L replied flatly.

Light shook his head. “I said specifically, L.”

“I’d rather not say,” the detective muttered. And that wasn’t a vague answer—it was a lousy one, it was the sort of answer one didn’t want to hear from the likes of L—from a man who’d seen the very bottom of human depravity in the cases he took, for him to deem something too terrible to speak of, well… that just did not bode well at all.

“Ah, comforting,” the redhead muttered and shook his head. Mello lifted a brow at the detective, not having expected such a dismissal of the question. It wasn’t like him. Either there was more to this than L was letting on, or he was truly anticipating something that utterly horrific to take place in the near future. And yes, that was downright bloody comforting to think of.

“Christ,” Mello released a breath and finished his wine, almost immediately reaching for a slice of chocolate fudge cake.

“I’m going to search the house,” L said at last. “Personally.”

“No,” and Linda’s gasp was as concerned as it was fearful. It seemed to go without saying that no matter what heinous things L believed B was capable of visiting upon them, it was L himself who was in the danger of the worst brand of punishment.

“You can’t expect to cover this much ground on your own,” Matt argued. The villa was too vast, too many rooms to check, and then there were the grounds because there was no guarantee that there was something even in the house to begin with. Even with them on back up over the surveillance cameras, if there was something out there, then it was too dangerous.

“Not to mention that you’ll be putting yourself at risk by calling out the challenge, should your theory truly be right,” Mello added with a scowl. “If you believe this to be the case, then let’s not be reckless.”

L sucked down a strawberry. “I never said anything about doing it alone,” he muttered. “But if I am to err on the side of caution, as Light put it, I do know the only way to communicate with B at all is to call his challenge. And that’s what I intend to do…”