A/N: So uhh yeah, this is just a oneshot I made a long time ago.
Read with caution!
THERE ARE SPOILERS!
60...
"Okay, I've removed the AN 219 contact fuse...which is the outer metal layering..."
Rachael took in a deep breath, trying to calm her heart down, wiping the perspiration that rolled down her forehead.
50...
"Now using The Annular 8 inch high speed drill...I would have to drill into the next layering..."
Her hands shook as she bit her lip trying to calm her nerves while she focused on drilling into the hard metal. One wrong move and the time bomb could explode before it reached zero.
40...
"That's better, now let's have a look at this baby...the red block is the firing unit...which is usually placed next to the charge...so if that's the Plate with the batteries...then that grey round thing is the Physics package..."
30...
"I could make a minuscule incision in the Physics package...but who knows what I would be cutting up, and what chemicals would be released...damn it..."
20...
"Ahh! I'm running out of time...but I guess I would have to take a chance...but what if I go too far and hit the Polonium-Beryllium initiator? Then I'd be screwed..."
10...
"No wait! I don't need to cut open the Physics package! There's a Barotube collector and beside that..."
Her hands shook tremendously, still holding the drill, she glanced towards the green bar next to the Barotube collector.
5...
"Then that must be the Plate with all the instruments...radars, Baroswitches...including the timers!"
4...
"So that means I can stop the timer and it won't blow!"
Rachael immediately flicked the switch on the drill and began drilling into the Plate.
3...
"Okay, I've drilled into it. All I need to do is cut the wires...which one though? Red...or Blue?"
Rachael dropped the drill beside her on the table and grabbed the small wire cutting scissors.
2...
"It's gotta be red...damn it, yes...red...I have to cut it now!"
1...
"But what if it isn't? No it doesn't matter. It's a chance I'm going to take!"
"RACHAEL!"
Rachael cursed harshly as the bomb exploded, right in her hands. Luckily she was wearing heatproof gloves, otherwise she might have scored herself some pretty serious burns.
"FAR OUT! CAN'T YOU SEE I WAS IN THE MIDDLE OF PRACTISING DISABLING A BOMB!" roared Rachael pushing her safety goggles up her head and turned around to the person who had interrupted her.
"Huh...it's not like it's a real bomb or anything...," Matt muttered as he shrugged and strolled up beside Rachael in a cavalier manner. Compared to Matt, Rachael was a midget but she still stood tall and proud, unlike Matt who seemed to have a very bad posture from all the late night gaming.
Rachael fumed, her eyes turned into a murky green.
"Yeah, well when you're strapped to a time bomb and you've only got minutes to live, don't come to me for help," she exclaimed.
"And...what are the odds of that shorty?" he sneered teasingly.
She rolled her eyes.
"What do you want?" snapped Rachael angrily getting to the point. She was getting impatient. This always happened. Every time she was busy, Matt would suddenly rock up and ask for something. It was a daily ritual that spanned over eight years, ever since she had befriended Matt. She was having second thoughts now whether she had made the right choice to become his friend in the Orphanage.
Matt shoved his hand into his pocket and pulled out a small cigarette packet.
"L has received a request from the Los Angeles Airport. They want all their old security cameras replaced with new ones," Matt explained as he opened the packet and plucked out a cigarette.
"Hmm…new security cameras eh? What kind of cameras does he want? The wireless ones, infrared ones or what?" questioned Rachael, naming the different types of cameras.
Matt shrugged casually while fishing out his lighter. "I dunno! You're the pro at this technology stuff,"
Rachael leaned back nonchalantly against the table and scratched her pointed, mouse like nose. "I'm part of a bomb squad that neutralises and prevents deadly criminal acts, not a fortune teller that can see into the future and know everything. Did L say anything at all?"
"Yeah, he wants you to decide."
She let out an aggravated sigh. "I'll get the infrared ones then…but what if they're too obvious?"
Rachael's nose twitched slightly. A slight bitter burning aroma wafted through the air. It was sickening stench. Her head started to spin as she looked up to see Matt puffing on his cigarette. She loathed that smell.
"Gosh, would you mind putting out that cancer stick?" she asked, clearly irritated by the smoke.
"Yes I do mind," he answered.
"You're going to get cancer..." Rachael lectured.
Matt chortled; using his index finger and his middle finger he grasped the stick and pulled it out of his mouth, purposely blowing the thick grey smoke into her face.
"UGH!" she cried, waving her hand, trying to breathe.
"Meh, I'll probably get hit by a car and die before cancer gets me," he said.
"Yeah well mind going outside to smoke? Unlike you, I'm being healthy..."
Matt laughed and smirked.
"Hah healthy? You're the one playing around with bombs and guns!"
"Yeah well when you're strapped to a time bomb, and you've only got minutes to live, don't come to me for help," Rachael exclaimed.
"You already told me!" he said.
"And now I'm telling you again!"
Matt shook his head and grinned malevolently as he taps the cigarette lightly, making the ash fall down onto the clean tiled ground.
"Oi! Does this floor look like an ash tray to you?"
"Yep! Sure does," said Matt sarcastically nodding, adjusting his goggles as he walked across the room with a spring in his step.
"I'm out," he said before grasping the door handle and exiting the room.
"Later, you moron," mumbled Rachael before returning to her thoughts, pondering whether she should use the infrared cameras or not.
"RRRAAACHHHHAAEELLLL?"
"What?" Rachael shrieked.
She had a metal mask on, a small blow torch in one hand, the diminutive blue, nearly transparent flame emitting from the end, while in the other hand, she held what looked like a gun.
"I'm busy!" Rachael yelled over the loud blowtorch's noise, not bothering to look up.
"But my PSP is broken! I need you to fix it!" pleaded Matt, waving the small black device.
Rachael let out a strenuous sigh, knowing that Matt will continue to pester her if she do not repair his PSP. His PSP was his whole life, it consumed him. This was another unhealthy, addiction and obsession he had developed, just like smoking. Sometimes Rachael wondered if Matt was really twenty-six. He reminded her of a small ten year old child trapped in an adult's body. Really, who at the age of twenty-six still plays with a PSP? Rachael turned off the blowtorch and lifted the metal mask off her sweaty face.
"Give it here! Let's have a look at this," Rachael said while Matt handed her his beloved PSP. He wouldn't let anyone touch it except Rachael.
She pressed a couple of buttons and waited for a few seconds. Nothing happened.
"See? It's broken! My beautiful PSP! And I was on the very last level too, where Link kicks-"
"Screw driver please," Rachael said, her hand opened ready for Matt to hand over the tool.
"It's the end of the world! Now I'll never save Zelda and have-"
"Done!"
Matt looked up, uncertain what he heard was true. His PSP fixed in a matter of seconds? That was a new record for Rachael.
"Really?" he asked, his eyes sparkling with happiness. His whole face glowed.
"No I was joking you fool," Rachael said sarcastically. "You just need to change the battery...that's all you dobe…"
"Well that's a relief. I knew I could count on you," said Matt, patting Rachael on the back, well...more like slapping.
"Yeah whatever...," Rachael said beaming from ear to ear.
"And to celebrate, let's have a smoke! Want one?"
Her eye twitched as you wheel around and rapidly assembled the gun she was previously working on. Her movements were so swift that her arms looked blurred; it appeared as if she was a professional assassin preparing to kill someone.
"This baby is a M4 Carbine," said Rachael, hauling the gun into her arms, patting it and giving it a kiss.
"You're not serious...are you...you're not gonna shoot me are ya? We're buddies!'
She lifted the gun and pre-cocked it. The clicking noise from the dangerous gun echoed the room.
Matt eyed the deadly machine in Rachael's hands and then glanced back up at her. "What's that? A phone's ringing! Oh I gotta go...," Matt trailed off as he turned on the balls of his feet and ran out of the room as fast as he could.
"YOU'RE GONNA GET CANCER!" Rachael bellowed, your voice bounced off the walls and echoed the room.
"I'LL GET STRUCK BY LIGHTENING BEFORE CANER GETS ME!" hollered back Matt.
"RRRAAAACCHHAAEELLLL!"
Rachael sighed tediously and slid out from under the Red Mustang.
"What?" she asked wearily, dropping her spanner to wipe the grease and grime off her face with a filthy, oil stained towel.
"I need a car," requested Matt.
"For what?" asked Rachael. 'I'm kinda busy here if you can't see..."
"To help Mello be the distraction!" said Matt contently.
She scowled. "What?"
Matt groaned and rans his hand through his blindly unnatural copper-red hair.
"Well, Mello has a plan to...uh...persuade Takada you know the spokes person for Kira...to uh...go somewhere...and I need a car!" explained Matt.
"A fast one?" Rachael asked.
"Hmm yeah, but nothing fancy! We don't wanna be obvious! we gotta be inconspicuous; plus we might get a few bullet holes in it...so really, just wanna emphasise on the nothing too fancy part".
She looked down and frowned in thought.
"You can take this baby," Rachael said finally as she patted the red Mustang that she was fixing.
"That old piece of junk?" Matt said astonished.
"Hey, it's pretty good, and you said it might get a few bullet holes! It's pretty decent, quite fast, sturdy, good at turns, it's a 1972 Ford MustangMach 1!" Rachael explained. "And hey, no one's going to think that this Mustang is going to be your get-away car..."
"Oh all right," said Matt, clearly exasperated.
"Here," she said tossing him the keys to the car carelessly. 'Do you want a bullet-proof vest to go with the car? After all you did say it might get a few bullet holes…'
"Nah, I don't need them! I'll just dodge the bullets, " Matt said with a childish grin.
"Come on..."
"Really Rachael? You underestimate me!"
Rachael eyed Matt as she softly rested her dainty yet surprisingly strong hands on his broad shoulders.
"Be careful then," she said sternly.
Matt grinned childishly, "Thanks mum, and oh yeah, before I forget; I got something for you!"
Rachael's eyes lit up like light bulbs in amazement. Matt bought her something? What did he get her? He never got anyone anything before...
"Here, nothing much...just a thank you present for fixing my PSP," said Matt slyly as he handed her a small wrapped up box. He had an impish smirk lingering on his lips.
"You didn't have to..." Rachael said breathlessly beaming at Matt.
Matt shrugged and eagerly observed you open the gift with amusement. Rachael ripped off the shimmering, scarlet wrapping that sparkled and gleamed in the light and vigorously shook open the small box. Out fell a small packet of cigarettes. Matt grinned roguishly, biting his lip, trying to consume in his laughter.
"That's it..." Rachael roared grabbing the M4 Carbine gun which was sitting on the table beside the Mustang.
Matt let out a long string of profanities as he ran for the door. Rachael fired the gun, the bullets created colossal holes in the walls and tiles. Dust exploded from the walls like fireworks as the bullets make contact with them, but never did they make contact with Matt. Rachael wasn't too concerned about the damage the building was taking. It was an old run down and not to mention abandond building that no one really new existed. Rachael was going to relocate soon anyways as she always did. She never stayed in the same spot twice. It was Matt's idea of taking precautions and keeping her safe.
"YOU'RE GONNA GET CANCER!" she screeched.
"I'LL FALL INTO A RIVER AND DROWN BEFORE CANCER GETS ME!" bellowed Matt.
Rachael scoffed. Matt couldn't drown; he knew how to swim.
Rachael paced around the room impatiently, her hands on her hips, every now and then throwing a glance towards the clock that hung on the wall. It was ten past eleven. He was late. Matt had promised to call Rachael at ten thirty regarding his mission. The subdued ticking of the clock was agitating Rachael to no end. What if something had happened to Matt?
Abruptly the strident ringing of a telephone broke the agonising silence as Rachael jolted from her pacing and hastily snatched the phone off it's hook.
"Matt?" she asked eagerly.
"Rachael?"
She frowned, her lips pressed into a thin line. That wasn't Matt's voice. Matt has a juvenile voice with a mixture of high spirits and humour. It reminded her of the tinkling of the triangle in an orchestra. No matter how many instruments were playing, the triangle could always be heard, just like Matt. But this voice was different, yet slightly familiar.
"Rachael?" it repeated, "It's Mello."
"Oh, hey, Mello," Rachael said, trying not to let her disappointment leak through into her voice. Rachael bit her lip. She had an ominous feeling that Mello did not call her for a nice chat.
"How are you?"
"Good."
"Well...I don't know how to put this.." he continued.
"Oh just spit it out, go on...is this about Matt?" she urged.
"Um…yeah…I'm afraid that Matt has…well…passed away."
"What?" she said.
"You know, he's kicked the bucket, put the spoon in the wall, met his maker, croaked, lookin' at the other side of the grass, pushing up daisies..."
Rachael's eyes dilated.
"Matt's dead..."
Rachael couldn't believe her ears. Those two words penetrated through your body like bullets feeling the overwhelming shock. Gradually they sunk in deep, wounding her chest. Her best and not to mention annoying friend...dead...she didn't want to believe her ears, somehow, she heard incorrectly. A deep, throbbing pain swelled up in the back of her throat, as if someone had roughly shoved a football there. Rachael chewed on her lip, trying to force the tears back. Matt was like a big brother to her, always looking out for her, annoying her, stealing her cookies in the Orphanage and getting her into trouble.
"H-how did he die?" Rachael choked through the telephone; her voice quivering.
"He…he got shot while we were kidnapping Takada. Our cover was blown," replied Mello desolately.
"Oh, okay then, th-that's all I… need to know... goodbye," Rachael mumbled as she hung the phone and crumbled to the floor devastated.
She held her knees and wept into the early hours in the morning.
"So, he really is dead..." Rachael murmured to herself.
She stood beside the red Mustang she had lent to Matt. It had multiple bullet holes and was quite dented; from a distance, it looked just like a huge pile of junk. The car was surrounded by yellow tape that the police had hung up, preventing people from entering the crime scene. Rachael bent down and picked up his exceptionally damaged, fractured, black PSP and tucked it under her arm, slowly turned around and walked away.
Rachael stood on the very end of the gravestone. Ironically, it was a dazzling sunny day, the brilliant light from the scorching sun blazed into her eyes, blinding her. There was not a single cloud in the crystal sky. It seemed like a scene from a fairytale. Unbelievable and fake. Small birds chatted away in the trees as a pair of vivid yellow butterflies fluttered down and landed on the gravestone gracefully. Butterflies...in Japanese culture they were considered an omen, the sign of death. The world seemed too cheery and merry. She sighed and opened her black, leather trench coat, reached in and grabbed the newly repaired black PSP from her pocket and placed it on the grave stone. It looked good as new, almost as good as the condition Matt had kept it in. He treasured and cared for the gaming device as if it was his own child.
"You idiot! you should have accepted the bullet-proof vest I offered to you," Rachael murmured.
But she knew it was too late, she couldn't turn back time. Matt was already dead; she should have forced him to take the bullet-proof vest. No longer would he annoy and pester her; she would have her peace and quiet. No longer would she smell the bitter aroma of the burning cigarettes. No longer would she shout and yell her concerns about his health.
Rachael let out a miserable sigh, but brighten up and gave a small sad smile. At least he was in a better place...he had escaped this cruel, hateful and twisted world which at the moment seemed to be ruled by a person called Kira...and additionally he had his adored PSP with him.
Rachael reached into the deep pockets of her cardigan and pulled out Matt's lighter that the police had managed to retrieve. It was almost in perfect condition; shiny and smooth, apart from the tiny scratch on the side. From the other pocket she dug out a cigarette packet; the same brand Matt would always buy. Rachael held the cigarette gently between her teeth and lit it up. The familar burning smell hit her nose as the smoke started to form. With her index and middle finger she held the cigarette and inhaled the smoke through her mouth. Coughing and spluttering, Rachael exhaled, blowing the smoke away and wheezed.
"There you go you bastard, once last smoke for you from this cancer stick,"
Rachael coughed again and chuckled gently. And best of all, the bastard was right. He truly beat cancer.