Disclaimer: I own nothing that you recognize.

A/N: Random bit of craziness I wrote eons ago… Actually, this was written before "There Were Two in the Bed"… It was part of the expansion of that story I was planning before I got obsessed with Assassin's Creed. This might become multichaptered. I'm not entirely certain. Summer is so close, anything can happen.

Hypothetically Speaking

By: Ginny

Mello was frustrated.

Mello was angry.

Mello might honestly shoot someone if given a chance.

Stalking down the hallway, the various members of the mafia and their current whores all quickly side-stepped, pressing their bodies against the walls for fear of getting in his way… They knew halting Mello in this kind of mood would further agitate him and probably result in their heads being blasted off. Cutting a close corner, Mello turned and came face to face with one of the whores who fed off the money the mafia members provided.

Sleazy white-blond hair that had been fried harshly, thick mascara and liquid eyeliner. Stereotypical. He thought her name might have been Paula, or Kitty or something stupid like that. Her mouth gaped open, forming a bright red 'O' as she stared up at Mello's scrunched up face. His hand twitched towards his gun and she followed his movements. Gulping audibly, she backed away and pressed herself against the wall.

"Sorry, Mello," she murmured, head bowed.

Letting out a guttural growl, Mello clenched his fists and continued his rampage towards his bedroom.

God, all he wanted to do was hop into bed and pound into his girl – and then pass the fuck out.

Three of his best men had been arrested just that afternoon for drug trafficking. He had warned Rod again and again that they should cut back on those kinds of petty crimes. It was far too easy to catch someone with a load of cocaine on them. Yeah, it made money, but their arms dealings made a lot more profit and weren't as difficult to get away with. But of course, Rod preferred to make as much money as possible so these kinds of dealings continued on. And now they had lost three good men. God fucking damn it! If he couldn't keep his men from getting arrested, how could he ever defeat Kira?

Just thinking about it made him tense all over again and he gladly caught sight of his bedroom door. Heaven in lingerie was awaiting him. Yanking the door open, he was already in the process of unzipping his vest. By the time he had slammed the door shut, the vest was on the floor and his hand was on the zipper of his leather pants.

He mentally thanked Jesus Christ that he had chosen the zippered pants and not laced pants.

Stumbling out of them, he smirked at the figure curled in the bed, hidden under the cheetah-print covers. That is, his smirk remained in place until he saw the melting, half-eaten carton of chocolate ice cream slowly wilting on the bedside table.

Stopping short right at the foot of the bed, Mello folded his arms across his naked chest, "So… how long is this going to continue?"

Daisy stuck her head out of the cocoon of blankets, wincing at the harsh florescent light. Apparently she still had a headache. "I don't know," she groaned. "It's never been this bad before."

Her brown hair was matted and sticking up at odd angles, bags had formed under her eyes even though she had spent most of the day in bed and the sensitive skin on her face had caused lines of pain to weave their way around her mouth and on the corners of her eyes. She also wasn't wearing any make up which was a little shocking for Mello to see. Like most of the whores in the compound, she wore a crap-ton of make up, especially her signature ruby red lipstick. Without it, she looked pale and wilted. All of this pointed to one conclusion:

Mello wouldn't be getting any for a good few days.

God damnit.

So, instead of hopping into bed as naked at the day he was born, he stalked to his dresser and slid on black silk pajama pants. Only then did he sit on the edge of his bed, finishing the last of his chocolate bar he had started that morning. An awkward silence descended on the two… it was a well-known fact that if they weren't going at each other like horny bunnies, they really had nothing in common and nothing to talk about. So instead, Daisy rambled.

"It feels like there's a small man in my stomach who is slowly trying to carve his way out with a dull butter knife." Groaning, she rolled over and curled together even tighter.

Wiping his chocolate-stained lips with the back of his hand, Mello glanced down at his girl. He always got an uncomfortable feeling in his chest area when he saw her face cringing like that.

"I thought those pills you're on were supposed to help with," he waggled a single finger in a small circle over her torso, "this."

"Well, I actually blame those damn pills. When I was on that other birth control, it wasn't this painful." Her teeth dug into her unpainted bottom lip as she gave another deep grimace. "Yeah, these ones make the whole process shorter, but God damn – they make the pain so much worse."

Reaching over, he pulled a book from the drawer of his bedside table. It was a worn copy of Crime and Punishment, dog-eared affectionately over the years and the perfect distraction for Daisy's complaining. Mello leaned back against the bed on his side and crossed his legs, lifting the book to eyelevel and opening it to his favorite part: where Petrovitch tells Raskolnikov that it would be better to give himself up now. Seeing what he had done, Daisy rolled over gingerly to place her head on his shoulder and stare at the book. She couldn't read it, since she couldn't understand Russian, but she had once told Mello that she just liked looking at the symbols.

They existed like that for a while, Mello reading his book and Daisy letting her eyes slide over each foreign symbol as her fingers lightly traced their way up and down Mello's chest before circling his nipples and then finding their way back down to lightly caress the sparse hairs near the waistband of his pajama pants. Maybe if the Midol kicked in before they turned in for the night Daisy could use alternative methods to pleasure Mello since he was being so gentle with her.

Then a few moments later a groan managed to leak from Daisy's mouth and she rolled back into a ball. Almost absently, Mello reached down to stroke her hair off her forehead in some attempt at being comforting. For the most part, his focus remained on his book. When Daisy let out another moan, Mello thought, Jesus Christ, it's like she's doing this on purpose…

Sighing, Mello retracted his hand, "You want some Midol or something?"

"I already took some," came the muffled answer.

Snapping his book closed, Mello snapped, "You know, this is getting pretty damn ridiculous."

Daisy twisted to glare up at her fuck buddy, "Are you kidding me?" She pushed herself up. "This past year I have been hopping from one birth control to another because you didn't want to use a condom – said you couldn't feel anything."

"Condoms are also less effective in preventing you from getting knocked up," Mello growled, insulted that his manhood had been called into question. No man wants his woman to insinuate that he has anything close to erectile dysfunction.

She snorted, dropping back onto her side – and then instantly regretting it as the pain radiated to her toes. "Yeah, I guess you getting to empty your load directly into me is a side benefit to me not being stuck with a kid to raise."

"A kid you would get stuck with?" Mello asked softly, barely above a whisper.

Daisy didn't seem to get the hint. She should of, she had known this volatile man for so long that she should of known that he was slowly boiling over and that it was time to tread lightly. But she hadn't heard about the three men being arrested. She hadn't realized that he was already ticked off and nothing would stop him now.

"Well yeah," she sighed wistfully. "You're off on your mafia-Kira kick and I doubt you'd take a break to change diapers."

It seemed that right after that came out of her mouth, she fully realized what exactly she had said. Her eyes flew open and she stared up at Mello, wide-eyed. "I didn't mean to imply-"

The blond, to his credit was trying to keep his face as neutral as possible. He failed, majorly. Snarling, he pushed himself up and off the bed to stalk to the door, before spinning and stalking back to the bed.

"I know what you meant to imply!" Mello kicked the bedpost, "Fucking bitch!"

Almost as though she was feeding off his own anger, she scoffed and sat back up, "Oh please – like you would honestly be so enthusiastic to change diapers and deal with a squealing baby! Don't act all insulted just because what I'm saying is true!"

"You have no idea what I would or would not be enthusiastic about!"

"I know you would probably dump me and the baby somewhere you would call "safe" just so that we would be far away and you wouldn't have to deal with us!"

Bending over, Mello placed his hands spread apart on the bedspread so that he could be nose to nose with Daisy, "Then you underestimate me, you little whore," he snarled. Little droplets of spit speckled her face.

A moment passed as they stared at each other. Daisy knew that his temper could make him snap at any second and that she might be two steps away from getting shot through the head. Pale and gaping, Daisy let a shiver pass down her spine and slowly a triumphant smirk slid across Mello's face. He had won. Pulling back, Mello stood up straight and began to cross the room.

And suddenly Daisy felt ashamed… ashamed that she would dare to back down. An angry flush spread across her cheeks and she reached for that chocolate ice cream carton and flung it at Mello's bare back.

The carton hit home, right at the nape of his neck, splattering him with the brown liquid that slowly dripped down the plains of his back.

Mello stood, tense like a coil for a few moments.

The calm before the storm, Daisy thought, slinking towards the backboard and wincing at the pain in her stomach. She didn't regret it, though. She just knew that the consequences would be unpleasant.

His fists clenched suddenly and he twisted around. A loud snarl echoed out into the room as he retraced his steps back to the bed and pounced. Mello grasped her upper arms and smashed her against the bed, his perfect blond hair in disarray. Daisy let out a belated scream, her hands coming up to try to protect herself. Somewhere in the back of her head she was scolding herself. Yes, she was Mello's favorite, Mello's chosen whore, Mello's girl. And for the most part that protected her from the other men and the other whores. That did not protect her from Mello himself.

"Don't you ever pull that kind of shit again!" he roared.

Knowing she should nod and just accept her punishment, but suddenly enflamed, Daisy instead shot back, "Then don't pretend to care a damn about me!"

Mello lifted her slightly, only to slam her right back down. Daisy thanked any deities above that she was on the bed and she would hopefully only end up with some nasty bruises on her upper arms and some whiplash.

"If you managed to fuck up-"

Daisy interrupted, "You mean if you fucked me up-"

He shook her again. "If you managed to fuck up," he repeated, "and forgot to taken your pill then I would fix your mistake!"

Almost on reaction, her knee slid up and hit home right where she knew she could hurt him the most.

What did he expect after he hit her where he knew it would hurt her the most? Her mistake? Her mistake? Did he not remember that she had been adopted? That she had been someone's mistake? That that someone had decided to fix that mistake by throwing her away and hoping she would survive? That the only reason she had been able to survive was because of the benevolence of the cop who found her, still swaddled and crying for her mother's milk?

That asshole.

Mello grunted, his face dissolving into a mask of pain. Then he collapsed, crushing her underneath him before he rolled off. As Daisy climbed off the bed, gingerly fingering her sore upper arms, she noted that Mello kind of resembled what she had looked like just a few minutes ago – curled up, throbbing in pain. Granted, the melted chocolate down his back was certainly new. Vengeance truly was sweet.

"That baby would not be a mistake!" she replied, wrapping her arms around herself. "That baby would be a blessing in this twisted up world! And I would have no problem taking absolute custody and care of it because if you were allowed near it, it would probably die of shaken baby syndrome! So don't worry, Mello, your baby and I would be fine!"

With that, she stomped out of the room, leaving Mello writhing on the bed.

The aforementioned blond stayed in that position for a few more minutes. Finally, he stumbled off the bed. Using the walls to hold himself up, Mello tried to follow her. He made it to the door and stopped. Why the fuck should I care about that bitch? he asked himself, retreating back to the bed. Tomorrow I'll get rid of all her stuff and I'll never have to deal with her and her stupid assumptions regarding our kid again…

"Stupid bitch," he muttered, as he headed to the bathroom to take a shower and get that fucking chocolate off his back. It was useless if he couldn't eat it.

The next morning Mello woke up suddenly. He had rolled over, cold, and had reached for Daisy. Both of them disliked sleeping when it was too hot, so the AC was almost always on and they hid under thick blankets. Sometimes that wasn't enough, however, and they would inevitably search for warmth and find it in the other. So when his groping hand couldn't find the warm flesh of his whore, he sprung up – his eyes slipping around the room. For a terrible moment he thought something had happened to her – another man had kidnapped her, she had run away.

Then he remembered.

Snarling, he pushed the bedcovers back and stalked to his closet. Hadn't he decided that he would stop worrying about whatever the fuck happened to that stupid bitch? God fucking bless it, yeah he had decided that and then suddenly he still gave a damn. He shouldn't. He was fucking pathetic.

God, he was fucking pissed.

Deciding a drink could maybe clear his head – even though he almost never drank – he was entering the kitchen area, chocolate bar in hand, when he ran into an unfortunate sight: Daisy sitting on the counter, legs spread and head thrown back as Calvin suckled gently on her neck, fondling her breasts at the same time.

Fire slid down his spine, to his fingertips.

Stupid fucking bitch.

Honestly? She lectures him about not taking responsibility for their kid and then she goes, kicks him in the balls and then runs off to an ex-lover's bed?

Before Mello had chosen her, she had been Calvin's whore as she was slowly working her way up the ranks. With Mello came a huge promotion. And now she had gone back to the low-life. And a low-life he was. Calvin was one of the uglier members of the mafia and not all that intelligent. He was somewhere in his early forties and had already lost most of his hair. He had a bit of a potbelly but at least he managed to keep himself rather clean so he wasn't too repulsive… unlike Albert who couldn't bother to take a shower more than twice a month.

Ha, at least it wasn't Albert.

The two were so enthralled with each other that they didn't even notice there was another person in the room until the click of the safety on Mello's gun rang through the room.

Blinking wearily, Daisy glared down at Mello and pouted. Calvin tensed and stared down the barrel of the gun between his eyes.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, dude! She said you two were done!"

"Don't be overdramatic, Mello," Daisy said.

"Overdramatic?" His gun bounced up and down as he clenched his fist. "Overdramatic is when you knee me in the groin because I called our kid a mistake!"

"Our baby is not a mistake! Our baby is a blessing!"

"You told me I would kill our child!"

"You have a terrible, violent temper, you asshole!"

Mello switched his target, aiming for Daisy instead. She had the decency to flinch.

"See what I'm saying?" she asked, "Like hell any mother would let her baby anywhere near you!"

"Fine – I'm a terrible person. You knew that when you started fucking me. And we all know that when stupid bitches are in charge of remembering to take a pill everyday, they eventually fuck up and forget and then they get pregnant. Moral of the story is: don't fuck with men you don't want to father your child!"

"Or just make sure to fuck a man who won't take any responsibility for the kid so that it stays safe! That was my plan!"

"You can't take my child away from me!"

"I will if you don't learn to control your temper! I can fight back – a baby can't, you asshole!"

"A baby won't throw a carton of ice cream at me when I discipline it!"

"No, a baby will throw up on you and shit it's diaper and cry in the middle of the night and be a big fucking distraction and heaven forbid I even try to suck you off when you're following a lead on the Kira case – you pushed me so hard last time I almost sprained my wrist. What are you going to do with a bawling, whining baby, huh?"

Mello lowered the gun. "Don't underestimate me!" he roared again.

This time Daisy didn't stay quiet, she didn't throw anything. Instead she roared back, "Don't call our baby a mistake!"

It seemed both of them realized the argument had come full circle and both of them had gotten everything out that they had wanted to. They were breathing hard, sweat dripping down Mello's long blond hair and Daisy's full chest heaving against her little tank top. Belatedly, Mello realized she was still wearing what she had been the following day: a pair of Mello's boxers and a thin tank top. Why the hell would he let her walk around in that jail-bait outfit?

Silence descended on the group as the two glared at each other.

"Whoa!" Calvin, still positioned between her legs, glanced up at Daisy, "You're pregnant? I thought you had your period?"

Daisy glanced down at him, quizzically. Then she turned to Mello, catching his gaze and returning his glare. The blond clicked his gun back into the holster and growled, "It was a hypothetical situation."

Calvin blinked, his beady eyes confused, "You two were beatin' each other up over a pretend kid?"

The silence that followed was thick – not with animosity like before, but with guilt and shame. Mello and Daisy avoided each other's eyes and all Calvin could do was to glance between the two in hopes that one of them would do something. As it was, he was feeling like he was caught between a fucking forest fire and an erupting volcano. Quite frankly, he had heard rumors about this couple's typical disputes but had never actually thought they could burn up everything in their path like they seemed to be able to.

Finally Mello muttered, "It's the principle of the thing."

Calvin raised an eyebrow and apparently Mello found that offensive because he glared at the older man. Noting that he was still between his girl's legs, Mello grabbed his upper arm roughly and yanked him back. Daisy closed her legs, crossing them with a hmph.

"Get out of here and stay away from my girl," Mello snarled, tossing him out of the kitchen.

When he turned back, Daisy was slipping off the counter – wincing with the movement. A shock shot through Mello… he hated that face she made when she was in pain. Even when he was fucking pissed at her, he still gave a fuck. Damn it. That just really pissed him off. He was so fucking pathetic.

It was so fucking pathetic of him to cross the room and place a hand on the small of her back – even when she flinched a little bit, thinking that he was going to hit her – and guide her out of the kitchen. So fucking pathetic.

"Well," Daisy began as they walked down the hallway towards their shared room, "I feel silly."

"It's the principle of the thing," Mello muttered.

"I know, but I shouldn't have gotten so upset," she explained.

She wasn't surprised when Mello wouldn't admit that he had also over reacted. But when he guided her their bed, lay down beside her and gently rubbed her stomach with small, tight circles – she knew that he regretted his harsh actions. She would have kissed him right then, but there were words that were still unspoken and Calvin's taste was still in her mouth.

"If," Mello began, before the words seemed to stick in his mouth. Even his hand on her torso stopped moving. "If… for whatever reason you were to get knocked up, I would take on the responsibility for that. I'm not – not even remotely father-material… I have my own father's temper and I don't like distraction and I really don't like kids or want them, but I wouldn't leave you alone with that kind of burden. Not if I could help it."

Sighing a deep breath, Daisy sat up from under Mello's hand, turned around so she could still face Mello and laid her head on his toned stomach. Mello's hand returned to its ministrations.

A half-broken thought flashed through his mind: Wouldn't their daughter look gorgeous with her mother's chocolate hair?

And then he quickly dismissed it. Kids would not help him defeat Kira or beat Near. Kids were a distraction and an annoyance and he wouldn't deal with them if he didn't have to. As it was, he wasn't entirely certain he would make it out of this case alive. If Kira could take down the great L, who was to say that Mello wouldn't be killed by Kira? Or a fellow mafia member? Being in a criminal organization did increase the chances of death via murder.

"I wouldn't want to be a burden on you," Daisy murmured. "I wouldn't want to distract you. You've said a few times that I help you concentrate… or relax. Like chocolate-"

"Just like chocolate," Mello confirmed.

Nodding against his stomach, Daisy continued, "Yeah, so I don't want that to change. I like being useful to you… doing what those other girls can't. And a screaming baby wouldn't do any good and we both would just be a distraction to you. I don't want you to feel obligated to help me in any other way besides financially."

His fingers paused and she realized he probably had found that last sentence to be another instance of her underestimating him… again.

"But I shouldn't have assumed that you would be satisfied with just that," Daisy finished. She was rewarded with his continued stroking.

The two laid in silence for a while before Daisy moved back a little bit, hovering her head over the lacings of Mello's leather pants. He would wear the laced up pants today. But really, like that was going to stop her. Sitting up, Daisy began plucking at the laces, pulling them apart with fingers that were very used to releasing Mello from his bindings.

Mello glanced down at her curiously, "What are you doing?"

"Making up for kneeing you in the groin yesterday," was the answer as she succeeded in pulling the pants open and freeing her prize.

She stroked him up and down, watching him grow in her hand.

Mello let out a low groan and joked, "I think you need to kiss it and make it feel better."

Laughing, she leaned over and was inches away from placing her lips against its head when she, herself, groaned. Not out of pleasure, not out of desire, not out of frustration. That little man with a butter knife in her uterus was back.

Daisy scrunched into a half-fetal position, pressing her forehead into his leather-clad thigh and tensed as another wave of pain hit her. She heard Mello give a little sigh and on the outskirts of her consciousness she realized that he had shrunk in her hand, any excitement about a blowjob fading from his mind as she winced again.

"Shall I have Calvin fetch you some Midol?" Mello asked, pulling her away from his exposed dick and up to his face so that she was lying next to him, wrapped in his arms.

"That would involve sitting up," she muttered into his shoulder.

Mello pressed his lips into her hair, before whispering in her ear, "If you're this bad now, I wonder how you'll be when you're having contractions…"