Prologue: The Case (Part Un)

In Mello's eyes, nothing was worthwhile unless it involved a risk, that was why instead of asking for permission and going in the morning, he convinced his partner in crime to sneak into the file room with him and steal a case. It wasn't unfair and hardly illegal, besides Roger would never allow them to partake on a dangerous case, and L would want them to do it. At least, that's what he told Matt. Not that Matt really cared, he just wanted his room mate to shut up and if helping him steal a case was what it took, he'd gladly do so.

That's how they ended up in a freezing room in the dead of night hunting for something even remotely interesting, equipped only with small penlights. And the search was rather futile. Missing dog, missing necklace, assault, missing painting. There was nothing good, nothing real, nothing L worthy.

"Find anything?" he whispered to his red headed companion. There was no reply. "Dude! Did you find anything?" He hissed, louder than before. Still he was ignored. "Matt!" No reaction. Growing extremely annoyed Mello grabbed a paper weight and threw it at the red head.

Matt had gotten into plenty of fights before. He was confident in his skill, and knew he could take on almost anyone in Wammy's house. However experience told him not to make a blonde that bore resemblance to a girl angry. Those type of people were extremely violent. So he didn't react to Mello's outrageous action as he normally would, had it been someone else. He simply pretended he had been hit by something else. A pillow perhaps, or a large marshmallow. Taking slow, deep breaths (as to not prove all "redheads are temperamental homicidal freaks of nature" stereotypes to be true) Matt turn around and in a polite voice asked: "What is it that you want O Mighty Mello? As I am positive you have excellent reason for hitting me with a brick."

Detecting the sarcasm but not really caring Mello repeated his question.

The question seemed extremely unnecessary to Matt, who found it common logic to tell someone if they had found what the other was looking for, unless the search was a contest of sorts. "Didn't it occur to you that I probably would have told you if I had?"

"Yes," Mello replied without a moment of hesitation. To that Matt came up with over a hundred snappy replies, but he kept his mouth shut, knowing sometimes doing nothing was the best course of action.

Click, clack, click, clack. By now the picture less puzzle was becoming far too familiar. The Rubik's Cube too easy. And the path of the Chinese wire puzzle had been long sense memorized. Near was bored.

The Lego's had been fun for a while but the truth was, Near needed a job. He needed something important to do, something difficult that would keep his hands, at least for a while. He could wait for L to give him something to do, but it wasn't as if the famous detective kept that on the top of his to do list.

He could ask Roger for a case, but knowing the old man nothing worthwhile would come from that. Perhaps he could... No, never. He had been told specifically not to ever enter the case room, under any circumstance. Rules were set for a reason. And that reason was of course for the safety of the children... On the second thought, he never really cared much for rules, and he was bored as hell. Besides, it's what L would want him to do.

He opened the door, just a crack, and peered out side. Almost all lights were off except for some emergency lights and two awkward beams moving around in a room all the way down the hallway. There were few rooms that direction, and Near could guess exactly where they coming from. That is, unless someone saw it cool to snoop around in a janitor's closet.

Near knew he wasn't the only one that wanted a job. But he'd assume everyone would just ask, which proved how stupid he was, to not consider Matt and Mello.

He sighed, guess it isn't the first time they beat me to the punch.

"Dammit!" Mello whispered/screamed. He knew a murder case wouldn't just pluck itself out of a shelf and plunge into his outstretched arms, but he didn't think it'd be that hard to find an interesting case. He must have scanned through about three hundred files already. And the most intriguing thing so far was the missing painting.

"Maybe we should just give up," Matt suggested in a soft whisper. It was Mello's turn to ignore. The redhead rolled his eyes and continued his search.

It was at that moment that the search took a turn for the better, because it was at that moment that Near came into the room and had the sense to turn on the light.

"You are not supposed to be here," Near said quietly. Not that he was in the position to say anything.

"Neither are you, so beat it," snapped Mello.

Beat it? If he's trying to be like Michael Jackson... he's got the cross dresser part down. Near thought to himself. His mind was the dwelling place of sarcasm, though he tried hard not to let anyone know. "You're in the wrong area. If you're looking for a job."

Mello froze. There was no way he had spent half an hour digging through files in the freaking section. At least there was no way he'd let the Albino know. There was also no way in Hell he'd let Near know he'd never been in the room before, especially if he had.

"Huh?" Matt had no ego problem, nor did he have an ongoing rivalry with Near (outside of Mario Kart, that is) so he had no difficulty asking.

"Murder cases are over there." he pointed to a sign on the far side of the room, which read 'Murder Cases Here', and had an arrow pointing directly under it.

"Now how'd we miss that?"

Five minutes later Mello found what he was looking for, and by that logic so did Near and Matt. It was a manilla folder entitled "The Florida Tourist Murders". After a short debate, in which Matt took Near's side, it was decided that the three would work on the job, together as a team. However dangerous and unwise that might be.

Ta-da! Same story, different everything. Yeah, I'm rewriting it, because I hated the other one. Disclaimer: I don't own anything that is owned in this Chapter... made more sense in my head...

Any who, I never said I hated Michael Jackson, and that's not what I was implying when I called him a cross dresser, the main character of this story is a cross dresser, no? That being said, I don't like Michael Jackson.

Now, if you haven't been offended yet, click where it says "Review Chapter" if you wanna see something cool. And once you click it, tell me about my new writing style. Love it? Hate it? I don't care, tell me anyway.

Ciao.