A/N: Death Note! Okay, So I went on vacation for Winter Break, and on the plane ride back, I couldn't help but wonder why they felt the need to remind the passengers that you're not allowed to tamper with the smoke detectors. It just seemed a little to obvious to warrant a warning! So, when I was contemplating that, I thought of a reason. Obviously, long plane rides and Matt don't mix well.
This is a non-smoking flight.
The No-Smoking sign glared at Matt from two seats in front of him. He had been on this airplane for four fucking hours, and that's all he really wanted to do. Smoke.
Mello had called and told him to be in New York at so-and-so address by the end of the week. That bastard just left without a fucking goodbye. Not to mention a ton of other crap that was now residing in Matt's luggage. He didn't even drop a note. Matt had lost track of the time that had gone by, but it was definitely longer than it should have been.
Thinking about seeing him again made his head spin. Matt knew that this wasn't going to be an I-missed-you or a sorry-I-didn't-even-leave-a-voice-mail kind of reunion; it was going to be a do-this-and-that-for-me-because-I-have-a-inferiori ty-complex kind of reunion. That was Mello's style: nothing matters except me being better than Near. That's the way it was. That's the way it would always be. Mello would want him to help him for nothing, and Matt would do it. He always did.
God, he really needed to have a smoke right now.
Sighing, Matt fished through his carry-on until he found a pack of cigarettes. He shoved them in his pocket and made his way to the only bathroom so strategically placed in the back of the back of the plane, even though he was in seat six-c. As Matt reached to end of the line, the person in front of him in line felt the need to point out that there was, in fact, a line. Wow, Matt was a long way from Wammy's House.
When he finally entered the door (and that's all there really was in there) to the bathroom, he glanced up. Smoke detector. He should have known. Standing on the toilet, Matt ended the short life of that pathetic, cheap piece of junk and carefully tossed into the sink. He sat down on the toilet and lit one up; Ah, sweet clarity.
Smoking is not permitted in the cabin or lavatories.
He must have been in there for a half-hour before someone knocked loudly on the door; "Anyone in there?" Matt looked up, why couldn't these people just hold it? He flushed the cigarette butts down the toilet and opened the door, unleashing a heavy cloud of smoke upon a couple very angry passengers and a few confused crew members.
After the coughing had died down and the surprised, profane exclamations had run themselves out, one of the stewardesses asked: "Sir, have you been smoking?" A stupid question really.
Matt was a long way from Wammy's House, indeed.
"Smoking? Not today," he responded, clearly not fazed at all and slipping his lighter into his back pocket. As Matt turned to journey back to his seat, he warned the next man in line, "Don't eat the peanuts, you'll regret it later."
US federal regulations prohibit tampering with, disabling, or destroying lavatory smoke detectors.
A/N: This might be the only decent fanfiction I ever wrote.
