"Ryuzaki?

The world's greatest detective looked up from the computer screen to see Watari standing in the doorway, his face determined.

"What?" L said, his voice slightly muffled through the mouthful of strawberry cheesecake he was currently devouring.

"It's time," Watari said solemnly.

The other members of the task force looked around curiously, watching as L's face turned, if possible, even paler and he shrank back in his chair, shaking his head. "No."

"Yes," said Watari grimly, stepping forward. "Come with me."

"No!"

L covered his head with his arms and buried his face in his knees as though trying to block out Watari's words.

"W-what's going on, Watari-san?" Matsuda said in alarm, looking nervously over at L's shaking form in the chair.

"What is the meaning of this?" Soichiro said angrily, standing up.

"Make him go away," L moaned from behind his knees.

"We had a deal," Watari informed the task force, moving close to his quivering charge. "We agreed that I would allow him to have strawberry cheesecake once a week, but in return," - he took another step - "he would let me wash his hair once every month."

The group let out a collective gasp.

"Why haven't we seen this before?" Soichiro asked. "We've been part of the task force for over a year, and we've never seen anything like this."

"Ryuzaki planned it so that you were always out when I did it," Watari said. "That gives him enough time to mess his hair up again before you got back."

L trembled worse than ever as Watari advanced, towel in one hand, a bottle of shampoo in the other.

"Come on, Ryuzaki," he coaxed, edging closer. "All you have to do is put this towel over your shoulders and sit on a chair. You don't even have to change your clothes."

"Go away!" L cried, burrowing deeper into the chair.

"Watari, are you sure -" Matsuda started, but he was interrupted by a war-cry as Watari leapt on L, the towel and shampoo falling from his grasp as he seized the young man and lifted him up, bridal-style. L was kicking and struggling, yelling with all his might, but Watari held on.

"Towel!" he barked at Matsuda, who picked it up and tossed it over with a frightened expression. Catching it, Watari covered L's head with it, as though thinking it might quieten him. If so, he was woefully wrong, as L's shouts grew louder and more incensed as his caretaker marched from the room, slamming the door behind him.

There was a stunned silence, before they heard Watari yelling, "L! Come back here!"

Before the members of the task force could do more than cast confused glances at each other, the door crashed open and L burst into the room, his expression wild, the towel still draped haphazardly over his head. Looking around frantically, he had barely taken a step before Watari leapt through the door and crash-landed on L, pinning him to the ground.

"It's only shampoo!" the old man cried in exasperation as L thrashed around desperately beneath him.

"It's completely illogical!" the young man shouted, trying to kick Watari in the shins and failing miserably. "In less than 24 hours I will have besmirched my hair again!"

"What about our deal?" Watari bellowed.

"I only said that to make you stop harassing me with your aforementioned shampoo!"

Watari managed to get a firm handhold around L's waist and hoisted him over his shoulder, pinioning his flailing legs down to stop them connecting with any important part of his body.

"For heaven's sake, I'm not going to torture you, Ryuzaki!" the task force heard Watari roar, before the door swung shut again and silence flooded the room.

After a few seconds, Soichiro cleared his throat awkwardly and began shuffling papers on his desk. Catching on, Aizawa stood up and went to the kitchen to start making coffee. Mogi followed, moving silently to the door and closing it behind him.

Matsuda, being Matsuda, was happily oblivious to the uncomfortable atmosphere.

"I wonder what Ryuzaki looks like with clean hair," he said interestedly, craning his neck to peer down the corridor. "I didn't know he ever washed it."

"Don't you have work to do, Matsuda?" Soichiro growled.

"Oh. Yeah."

Turning dejectedly to the huge stack of papers on his desk, he began to sift enthusiastically through them, looking up every now and then to cast a hopeful glance in the chief's direction. Soichiro, however, was determinedly typing at his keyboard, ignoring all of Matsuda's vain attempts to catch his eye.

There was a muffled thud, a yell and a cry of, "Sit still, will you?"

"Sounds like they're having fun, doesn't it?" Matsuda tried as the sound of the shower turning on reached them. Soichiro merely grunted, pretending to be absorbed in his work.

"What the Hell is Watari doing to him?" Aizawa said in peevish voice, coming back into the room with two steaming mugs of coffee in his hands. "Here, I brought you one, Chief."

"Did you bring me one?" Matsuda asked, eager for an excuse to stop working.

"No, Matsuda."

There was another thump, and a cry of pain.

"I don't care what Watari said," Mogi said grimly, coming in and sitting down on an unoccupied chair, "it sounds like he's torturing him."

"I have to admit, I'm interested to know what he looks like with washed hair," said Aizawa, taking a sip from his drink.

"When's Light getting back, Chief?" Matsuda asked quickly, seeing the irritated look on Soichiro's face.

"Should be in about fifteen minutes," the Chief said, minimising the tab open on his screen and stretching so his joints cracked. "He said he was taking Misa back to her apartment and then coming straight home. He left half an hour ago, so I expect he'll be back soon."

There was a crash. "It burns, Watari!"

"If you sit still, it won't go in your eyes!"

"And it smells like...like...apples!"

"That's how it's supposed to smell! It's conditioner!"

Another crash, and Watari's voice yelled, "Just let me rinse it out, and you can go!"

Mogi shook his head incredulously and began typing at his own computer. Yawning, Matsuda tried to avoid looking at the pile of papers that had to be sorted through by tomorrow and buried his face in his hands. "Can I have an early night, Chief?" he said through his fingers. "I'm just so tired, and -"

"When you have finished sorting those papers, you can go."

"Aww, Chief..."

The sound of the water shut off, to be replaced by the roar of a hairdryer. Matsuda stifled a chuckle as he imagined L cowering beneath it, his raven locks blowing around in the hot air.

He must have fallen asleep at his desk, because suddenly the Chief was shaking his shoulder impatiently and he found his face was pressed against plastic. Sitting up, he shook his head dazedly and looked around.

"Hey, Chief," he said blearily. "How long was I asleep?"

"Only a few minutes," Soichiro informed him. "You have a keyboard imprinted on your face, by the way."

Matsuda was just about to reply sheepishly when the door opened and L stepped inside the room.

The task force turned quickly.

"Wha..." Matsuda began.

L was slouched grumpily in the doorway, his hands stuffed in his pockets, a soaking wet towel draped across his thin shoulders.

But his hair was what made the assembled group stare in amazement.

It was as black as ever, the colour reflecting the look in his eyes, but it no longer spiked in all directions as though he had only just woken up. Now it was thick and shining, hanging down last his jaw, and only the odd lock of hair stuck out at an odd angle. His left eye was covered by a shaggy fringe which made him look even paler than usual, and there was a stray tendril sticking out sideways.

There was a ringing silence.

Then:

"Matsuda, shouldn't you be working?" L said in his usual monotone, seemingly unaware that the whole room was staring at him in unabashed awe.

"Oh," Matsuda said, flustered. "Oh, yeah."

"We, uh, found this file on criminals killed in the past week," said Soichiro, trying not to seem too interested in the vastly different appearance of the detective.

L dragged himself over to the screens and sat in his usual crouch beside Soichiro. "Show me."

Matsuda cleared his throat, reminiscent of the Chief. L turned owlish eyes to him, face as blank as ever. "Yes, Matsuda?"

"Nothing," Matsuda said quickly, turning back to his work. "I just -"

A door opened and closed down the hall, and they heard Light's voice call, "I'm back!"

"Wonderful," L muttered as Light opened the door and stepped inside, turning away to hang his coat up on a peg.

"You should have seen the lights, Dad!" he said enthusiastically, still facing away from them. "There were lanterns all over town, and down near the museum -"

He stopped.

His eyes were fixed on L.

Oh, dear, Matsuda thought.

Light took a deep breath, opened his mouth - and burst out laughing.

L's expression was flat as Light collapsed to the floor, tears streaming down his face, clutching his sides as he rocked back and forth.

"I can't say I'm surprised," L said, watching as Light rolled around on the floor, now completely silent. He turned to Matsuda, just in time to see him hiding a broad grin.

"Matsuda," he said quietly, and the man jumped and turned back to him.

"Yes?"

L fixed him with his black eyes.

"Never speak of this again."

Hey there! I have no idea why I wrote this. Looking back, it seems quite random... Oh well! :D I hope you liked it! Thanks for the lovely reviews, by the way; it always makes me feel better to know that people are enjoying my writing! :3