A/N: Uhm, hi? So, I kind of wrote that Death Note story about three or even more years ago, in my first language, Polish, then I posted it here in original language and some people suggested that I should try to translate it, so... here it is. To warn you: this story is focused on L and my original character, I won't recommend it to people who don't like OCs or are raging Light fans ;) Also, most of the fic is something like character study, since I originally wrote it only for the purpose of finding out how I'll manage describing reaction to an important person's death. But don't fear - I added a lot of plot to it while writing and there is a good amount of fluff, as well as many comforting scenes :) I'll be delighted if you'd give it a try!

Also, I'd like to thank TheGov for beta and Lokstar van Hallen for motivation.

She did not remember any previous situation like that, any other situation in which her mind was so unclear. She felt something was wrong but could not bring herself to any conscious reaction, only tried to ease the overwhelming pain deep inside her chest by stabbing the skin of it with slim fingers, but it was not working at all, and yet she did not know why is she suffering so badly. She did not even realise she was crying until she felt the tears dripping from her chin onto her bare forearms.

Only just then she heard that strange sound. By the fact that she was alone in the room, and that every time she tried to breath in she felt like dying, she realised that the irritating, whistling noises must have been coming from her own lips. For a brief moment she analyzed reactions of her body like it was not related to her at all, and was almost fascinated with her own moans and sobs, for she had never assume she would be able to act in such a pitiful way.

Exactly, it was just impossible… She never felt threatened by such a tragedy for he put so much effort into all those uncountable security measures, even there, in her apartment. Well, in what he called her apartment.

Again, she focused on crying, for it was much more simple than forcing herself to face the truth. Sobbing seemed to be even louder than a while before. She gazed at her fingers that have gone white from being clenched so tightly, but she barely saw them due to her blurred vision. They were moving forward and backward as her chest was raising spasmodically. She came to an unclear realisation that she started to whisper words of denial to herself and that her whispers are turning into loud, heart-rending screams. She did not pay much attention to that as there was no possibility that anyone could hear her. There was no such possibility as the one and the only person to ever pay her an unexpected visit was…

Was…

Was dead.

The very thought, as she finally allowed herself to consider it, made her feel like she was suddenly punched in the stomach, but from the inside. An unhuman moan, that sounded more like it was coming from an injured animal, not from a woman, a spy, a detective or whatever else she was, escaped from her lips, and she bit the inside of her cheek, hard. Her mouth filled with metallic taste of blood, she choked with it and started to cough, still finding it hard to breathe. Tears were coming out of her eyes and her nose, turning her lips wet and with every whimpering breath the salty liquid was spraying from her mouth, and she noticed all of that with sick kind of curiosity.

Yes, she did prefer to concentrate on physical symptoms of her suffering. She was not capable of exposing herself to the pain that was to come with every attempt to consider the consequences of what happened just minutes before.

It took her hours to realise the feeling of emptiness. Not as if they were meeting very often, no, but even though the awareness that never, never again...

She saw him outside so rarely that in his presence the usual, winter scenery of a park, kept in almost wild, English style, seemed unreal.

He walked beside her, his back slightly hunched like usual. She might told anyone else that it is unhealthy, anyone else but him, as for him it seemed just alright. It was simply one of those things that made him special. He was taking his steps carelessly, almost all the time looking straight ahead, except for those brief moments when he glanced in her direction. That allowed her to take the opportunity and stare at his face as much as possible, though she did it furtively. Not as if she thought she could hide anything from him, yet it was worth a try.

"Hey…", He spoke after a long while of silence. "Shall we have a cake?"

"Hmmm?", She muttered questioningly, blinking her eyes, suddenly interrupted.

"Oh, you know, go somewhere where we can buy some cake and then eat it."

"But of course, there is that place nearby…" She sped up as they approached path that was going down the hill, ashamed by how he almost caught her. Her companion was keeping up with her easily while she was focused on being irritated with herself, and it was no surprise that she did not manage to cover a long distance before she slipped on ice that was covered with the thin layer of snow.

The man by her side offered his arm for support and his action was as quick as thought, even though he did not look as if he was capable of moving so fast. She caught him above his elbow and clinged to him almost desperately in an attempt to regain her balance but the ground was so slippery that she only pulled him with her as she fell. They both slid down the very hill they were trying to climb down just a moment before, and fortunately it was not very sheer.

When they finally stopped, the woman looked at her rather eccentric companion, still holding him by the arm, in the face, and then she started to laugh, and once she realised she did not remember laughing in his presence any time before, her laughter got a whole level louder.

"What is so funny?", he asked in his typical, to-the-point manner, his intonation as serious as always, but his huge eyes were staring at her intensely and she could have sworn that she had never seen him astonished before, yet there he was with a thoroughly surprised look that made her giggle.

"If only you could see your face!" she said, holding back the urge to burst out laughing again which would make her pronouncement inarticulate.

And just then something incredible happened. The man smiled slightly, and his smile was so nice and charming that she was sure she had never seen anything more adorable.

Never again would she see the smile she fell in love with the first time she saw it. She clenched her teeth as her body shook from the next sob. She slumped down from the armchair onto the wooden floor where she curled up into a ball. She grabbed her hair and clenched her fists, which caused pain, but the physical pain helped her to bear with the feeling of emptiness. She cried out when she realised that his beautiful smile, a smile of a person who percieved the world as it was and still found some reasons to be pleased, was not the only memory to make her heart break. His face, which was not memorized by a single photograph…

She was very young at the time, only twenty years old, and, looking at it in retrospect, really careless. Despite that, she was considered a genius since she was very little, and she had every possibility provided to develop quicker than others. Which follows, the people who took care of her as soon as they discovered her when she was just a child, offered her a job. And they just happened to be very important people.

It was the very first investigation she was participating in in her career, and her job was to analyze materials collected by other FBI agents out in the field. That day was different though, as she was asked to take some documents to the headquarters. She got the feeling that her boss wants to show her she is nothing special at all, but it was not disturbing her, quite the contrary - she was pleased with the possibility of doing anything else than sitting at the desk.

She was told that there would be nobody inside the building as it was already late, so she felt at ease even though she was sure that her every step is recorded by security cameras. The only thing she had to do was leaving the file that she carried with her in an archive at the third floor, and so she used the elevator.

As soon as she entered the corridor, she hesitated. To her great surprise, she seemed not to be able to remember whether she was to choose the door on the left, or on the right, and she assumed that repeating the same actions for past several weeks was to be blamed. After a moment of thinking she decided that it was the left side, so she held the dossier to her chest and opened the door.

She was surprised to find out that the lights were on but soon she realised why it was so. There were no signs of shelves used to store the files, instead of them there was just an armchair turned back from the entrance, and behind the back of the chair she could see dark hair and a pair of huge, dark eyes, staring at her in a sort of disbelief showing behind impassive look.

The eyes blinked.

The girl unconsciously stepped forward. The door shut behind her, making a noise.

"Stop.", A calm, resonant voice sounded. Paradoxically, when she heard it she gave in to the urge to walk forward and get closer to the stranger.

Huge eyes blinked once again, this time the disbelief more apparent.

"Hey, are you deaf?" Apparently intrigued, he leaned out so that she saw his lips. His, as she was sure that the face she was seeing was a face of a man, about her age. It was her turn to blink several times, when she suddenly stopped, even though just a second before she was stepping forward like she got hypnotized.

"Oh, I apologize…" She mumbled, feeling heat rushing to her cheeks.

"Do you realise that you should have never, ever seen me?" The face hid behind the back of the chair again, finally allowing her to focus on her surroundings and realise that the wall she was facing was covered with monitors. "Maybe I should get you silent forever without hesitation?"

Even though she knew she should disappear as soon as possible, his words did not frighten her at all, and even when he was posing a dead threat on her, she still wanted to look in those huge, black eyes really badly.

"I'm sorry… L, right?" She spoke with quite absent voice. She did not even realise who was she talking to before she said it out loud. He passed it over with silence. "I just thought that you are so… beautiful."

She said only truth, for before he broke their eye contact there was nothing to make her face away from him. For a moment the room filled with silence.

"Come closer and see with your own eyes if I am that beautiful." When he finally spoke, his voice was indifferent. Well, he did not even react when she said something so unexpected. She was yet to learn that L expected everything.

She could not let such an opportunity go by. She approached him quickly, almost too quickly, and stood in front of his armchair. The man was sitting slightly hunched, with his legs pressed to his chest. He tilted his head a bit to the side and stared at her constantly, but somehow it did not feel awkward.

She was right, he was beautiful, at least for someone who liked uncommonness. Milky white skin made a sharp contrast to raven black hair nonchalantly falling all around his face. His eyes, also black, had dark shadows under them but were not swollen and that made them look even bigger, getting an effect that was usually achieved by using eyeliner. The thought almost made her smile, but she kept observing. He had full lips and pressed one of his long, slim fingers to his lower lip. He looked her in the face, not avoiding eye-contact even though it lasted longer that it would be comfortable for normal people. His gaze was deep and penetrating, and that was a moment when she felt shiver going down her spine as she realised she was facing world's most successful detective, and probably the most intelligent person in known history. She lost her words for a moment when she felt respect for him fully for the first time.

"I didn't lie." She said in soft, trembling voice that sounded like belonged to someone else.

L did not face away, he just nibbled at his finger like he was wondering what to do with her.

"To start with, why you are here?" Finally, he decided to break the silence. "I am ninety eight coma seven percent sure that you are someone form FBI but I want you to explain it."

She nodded her head, still staring at him so intensely that it was almost rude.

"I was carrying some files to the archive and I messed up the doors."

He lowered his eyes for a moment, moving his finger to the side of his lips, and he looked back at her again.

"Well, what is done, is done. Say it again and I'll give you a blueberry." Saying that, he leaned forward to the table in front of his chair.

She looked there to see that he putting a spoon in a bowl full of sweetened, black fruits. She raised her eyebrow.

"I messed up the doors?"

In silence, he held a single berry in two fingers and moved it to her hand. She took it almost automatically.

"Before that."

Firstly, she raised the fruit to her mouth. It was already sweet and in addition the dark-haired man added lot of sugar to it. She was surprised that she still found it tasty.

"I was carrying some files...?"

That time, he took two berries, using both of his hands, and placed them on her hand, which she extended, already knowing what to expect.

"It's still not what I mean."

She ate her 'prize' quickly, trying to understand what was the whole game about. It took her just a second to realise.

"You are beautiful." The words seemed to hang in the air between them for a moment in which the girl tried to figure out what the detective was thinking, and failed miserably.

"Hold out your hands."

She did as he requested, and he picked up his bowl and tilted it. Little, dark fruits poured out upon the agent's hands.

The dark-haired young man leaned and lifted a carton of cream that was prepared on the table. He began to pour it into the bowl, and at the same time filling the spoon that he held above. When he finished, he raised the spoon to the woman's lips. She was staring at him with awe.

"Eat it with cream, it's even better."

Astonished, she allowed the spoon to go past her lips, licked it's contents and then swallowed, while L started to eat his dessert. During that action, he also began to speak.

"For you've already seen me, I would like to invite you to help me directly. Knowing you lack experience, I still have a feeling that you may have pretty good instinct as you recognized me so quickly." His fingers moved briefly upon the keyboard and in no time her full profile was projected on every monitor. Well, at least she did not have to wonder why he knew that she was not experienced. "That is so only if you are not here in an suicidal attempt to kill me, of course."

She licked the sugar off of her fingers.

"Mind giving me more cream? And, I get that you are not suspecting me anymore?"

L offered her another spoonful of cream and after she ate it he pointed at the monitor.

"Knowing that, I am not."

She nodded her head, licking the cream from her upper lip.

"But you'll keep an eye on me constantly?"

"That is correct, at least until I will finish the investigation and leave this place. Finding me will be impossible then, and sole memory of my face is useless to anyone who would attempt to pose a threat on me, especially since you show no talents in drawing, according to all the data. Unfortunately, you could have took a photo of me with some hidden camera."

She decided to try to make him smile as she found it strange that all the sweet things he has done did not match his seriousness to the point that she could hardly believe it is honest.

"I'd love to do this. As I already mentioned, you are beautiful."

He raised his palm to his lips once again, keeping a straight face. The concentration was visible only in his dark eyes.

"I can not allow it, so I will ask you to move to that room." He pointed at the door on the right side of the room. "You will then leave everything that you wear and carry with you, the dossier included, on the floor inside it. Next, you will open the second door in the room and you will find a wardrobe with my clothes inside it. Pick anything you find suitable, wear it, and return here."

"Will you watch me?" The girl frowned.

"Not me, Watari will take care of that, and you will most probably never meet him. Except that, we are professionals after all, plus I did not ask you to undress in my presence, so stop arguing, please."

Knowing she had no other option, she obeyed.

His face was surely the most beautiful thing she saw in her entire life, and awareness of the fact that the picture of it inside her head would eventually vanish took her breath away. She punched the leg of the table beside her and the impact tore the skin of her hand. She cried out again, but not from pain, at least not that caused by the cut.

She stood unsteadily and dragged herself to the bathroom so that she could dress the wound, even though she did not know why she would even bother at the first place.

She washed the blood away with water, cold, as she attempted to stop the bleeding, all the time shaking from her weeping.

When she used the soap, it smelled like strawberries.