BY : NothingsXSorrow
Category: Death Note > General
Dragon prints: 1030
Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note or its characters, nor do I profit from these writings

Pairing: Mello/Fem!Matt

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Brief mentions of sexual situations, Language, Mentions of violence. Genderswap.



Mello exited the strip bar, the weight of his custom revolver that was securely tucked in his jacket giving a slight boost to his confidence and sense of security as he walked along streets occupied by the lowlife degenerates of society; drug dealers, addicts and prostitutes who like roaches and rats flooding the streets after the sun set. He had spent the better part of the evening in the dive, a cheap strip bar that employed cheaper whores who danced in hopes of making enough to feed their addictions. It was also a front for "business" where in the darkened back rooms illegal arms, drugs and flesh were quietly traded and dealt.

As he turned a corner, he paused, eyes quickly scanning the garbage filled streets. Lately he had been overcome with sinking feeling that he was being watched. A paranoia that not even the alcohol and drugs that flowed through his blood could put to rest.

Paranoia came with the job, something that he well aware of. Only eighteen, yet he felt so much older. A life times worth of experience and trials lived in only the span of a few short years. Three to be exact. Over night, or so it had seemed, he had gone from devoted student and genius protégé of the great detective L, ranked second behind the pasty skinned cunt Near to becoming a Consigliere. Trusted advisor to the L.A. Crime Boss, Rod Ross. The delivery of the head, literally, of a rival boss having not only moved him up the ranks and securing his current position but also damning his soul.

He knew that reputation that came with rank bought little in ways of actual protection. Quite the contrary, there was always a chance that he was a target of either a rival family or a low ranking soldier hoping to make a name for themselves and advance their own career in the criminal underworld. He held on to no illusions, cash could only buy so much and with others willing to pay, there was always the chance that one could be out bid.

Taking a deep breath, he continued walking. His hand reaching into the inner pocket of his leather jacket to finger the crucifix that was wrapped around the hand grip of his Colt Delta Elite. Recently had he began to surround himself with the trappings of religion, although he, himself had never been one to fall into the church going mindset, nor would he really have ever defined himself as having any true religious convictions. Again it was his job, when one was surrounded by death and violence it was easy to attempt to seek salvation and forgiveness, even if the faith one held was hollow.

He had only a few more streets to go before he arrived at his apartment. He found himself silently cursing the fact that he had chosen not to drive.

A quick sideways glance in a store window confirmed his suspicions. He had seen them before, the day before last to be exact. The striped shirt they wore under the ratty black hooded zip up had changed, this night it was a simple red and black pattern but there was no mistaking the rest of the outfit. Orange tinted goggles and black tanker style boots with buckles that came to just above the calf. And there was the hair, messy in style and falling just beneath the ears, dyed a flashy shade of electric blue.

The blond young man slowed his pace, the echoing sounds of the others footsteps alerting him that they had also done the same. Seeing an alley, he quickly turned the corner, hand instinctively drawing his gun as he spun around to face his stalker.

"You better fucking talk. Fast" He growled, slowly advancing forward, eyes sizing the other up.

At the sight of the gun the blue haired youth froze, hands outstretched to show that they were unarmed. Mello's finger rested on the trigger, ever mindful of the pressure applied. Earlier he had removed the silencer and he had little desire to call attention to himself with gunshots breaking the silence of the night.

They were young, perhaps even younger then Mello. From the style of clothing and slim body that lacked curves he guessed male. They made no movements. Behind the orange tinted lenses of the ridiculous goggles he could see that they were doing the same, eyes flitting over his form before holding his stare.

"Are you fucking deaf, or just plain fucking simple." He had a sudden sense of familiarity as he focused on the face. Although his mind drew a blank he tried to recall how where he knew this boy from. Junkie, whore for more special customers of Rod being a few of the possibilities that came to mind.

"My hearing is fine, but I am starting to question your fucking eyesight man." Not a male, the voice was definitely feminine.

Gun still drawn he walked up to her. The barrel of the pistol resting against the soft area under her chin as he reached up and removed the goggles. Eyes widened as realization struck him upon seeing the emerald green of her eyes.


"No, I'm the ghost of your dead ten dollar whore of a mother, Miheal. Now will you please put that damn thing away before your finger slips and my brains end up painting the alley."

He calmly withdrew the gun, tucking it into the waist band of the leather lace up pants. Looking her over carefully, taking note of the swell of her small breasts hidden under the bagginess of her shirt he whistled.

"You grew up Mattie."

"Well yeah you dumb shit, it has been.." Her responding answer was cut short as he violently back handed her, sending her to the ground.

"Never. And I mean never call me by real name, or next time my finger might just fucking slip. You stupid bitch." He spat as she stared up in mixture of shock and rage, her fingers reaching up to touch her reddened cheek.

"What the fu.."

Again she was cut off, "Actually it might be best if you just keep that fucking mouth of your shut all together." He growled through clenched teeth.

He extended her a hand and helped her to her feet. "I live near by, but something tells me you know this already."

She nodded silently and in spite of her increasing fear she did not protest when he roughly gripped her forearm and started out of the alley muttering under his breath, "stupid fucking twat."

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