A/N: I am still not entirely certain what I was on when I came up with this idea, much less turned it into a full-blown fanfiction.
It's set shortly after Phoenix Wright 1, and near the end of Death Note Volume 10. We're ignoring actual years for the sake of making this work. For the purposes of humor (Raier L sounds better than Lier L, no matter how true the latter is), Light will be referred to as Raito.
Credit for help and inspiration goes primarily to my schoolfriend, whom I'll just call Eru. He looks and sits like L, so it fits. In addition, inspiration also came from images posted to a website I frequent, so to whoever drew Mikami as Edgeworth, I offer you my thanks.
And now, on with the crack.
---
Gumshoe couldn't have been happier.
He had been on the force for more years than he could count, but this was something new, something wonderful.
He was working with someone who was more incompetent than him.
For the first time, the chief wouldn't always go after him by default! There was a human barricade between himself and the anger of his superiors.
This barrier, a young, black-haired, nervous-looking man, was currently intently studying what appeared to be a steak.
"Are you sure we should be taking time off to eat, Detective Gumshoe?" he asked.
"Hey, all the leads will still be there after a good meal," Gumshoe reassured him. "Don't worry about it, Machoda."
"Matsuda."
"Whichever."
---
It had all started about a month ago, when the Chief furtively called Gumshoe into his office. Gumshoe had been in there only a few times, mostly in order to be reprimanded. The office was small and crowded, and most of the walls were covered in news clippings and schematic diagrams of the Blue Badger. In a concession to the new order of the world, however, one wall bore a black banner with the word "KIRA" written on it.
The Chief looked around the office as if making sure he wasn't being watched, then gestured for Gumshoe to sit down, which the detective gratefully did.
"Gumshoe, I have something to confess," the Chief stated in low tones.
"Whatever it is, sir, you know I'm happy to be your confidant!" Gumshoe saluted smartly. "What is it? Alcoholism? Recognition of my greatness? A sexual attraction to the Blue Ba-"
"Nothing like that, you imbecile!" the Chief snapped. He glared at Gumshoe for a moment, then managed to calm himself again. "I'm... anti-Kira."
Gumshoe stared in shock. Admitting that, especially in the US, was an act comparable to running in the streets in front of a camera and screaming "My name is Dick Gumshoe and I'm a criminal!" Not that he would ever do that, of course. He was trying to save his heart attacks for later, when the cholesterol of all that butter on his steak clogged his arteries.
"Are you sure, sir?" Gumshoe asked, scratching the side of his head. "I mean, he's made my job a hell of a lot easier..."
"But we're not certain that everyone he killed really committed a crime! You've seen enough cases with that Wright kid defending to know that the suspect isn't always the criminal."
"Wright, Wright..." Gumshoe searched his memory. "Oh, right, Harry Butz!"
"...Right, whatever. In any case, I've managed to get in touch with an Anti-Kira Police Squad in Japan, and I'm sending you over to join them."
"Why me?" Gumshoe protested.
"Because no one will notice if you're gone, to put it frankly. You're useless enough to make a great undercover agent."
"I'm not sure if that's a compliment or an insult, sir."
"Just go buy your tickets."
---
A week later, Gumshoe had been on a plane to Japan, trying desperately to memorize an entire English-Japanese phrasebook over the course of a few hours. He was tripping over "do o itashimashite", which he could only hear as "don't touch my mustache", when the sounds of an argument in the seats across from him caught his attention.
He glanced over to see a blond man (or woman, his hair was very nice) with rather nasty facial scarring yelling angrily at a red-headed boy in a striped shirt, who was cringing slightly but didn't seem to be very fazed.
"Matt, will you stop talking about your games for five minutes and let me eat my chocolate in peace?" yelled the blond (wo)man. Gumshoe noticed for the first time the half-eaten chocolate bar in the person's hand, as well as the scattered Hershey's wrappers around the boy/girl's seat.
The red-headed boy protested, of course. "B-but, Mello, you get to play a lawyer and defend yourself in all these neat cases! Right now I'm trying to figure out how someone was killed with a statue of some guy sitting do-"
"Shut up!" the blond person screamed.
Gumshoe slipped on the complementary airplane headphones and turned up the volume on the in-flight movie.
---
Eventually, the plane landed in the Tokyo Airport. Gumshoe collected his luggage and headed for the walkway, where he saw a young man waving around a sign with his name written on it.
He veered that way, waving. "I assume you're part of this thing?"
"Sure am!" the young man replied cheerily. "Detective Matsuda, at your-Oh, no, I used my real name again! Raito is going to kill me if he hears about this..."
Gumshoe slapped Matsuda on the back heartily. "I think we have a lot in common, pal. Want to go out drinking after this is all done?"
---
The drive was mostly uneventful, although the two swapped stories a lot. ("And then all the evidence turned out to be fake, and Mister Edgeworth got really angry with me..." "That's nothing! I once broke into a building against orders!") Eventually they arrived at a nondescript office building, which Matsuda proudly announced as the headquarters of The Secret Thing for the benefit of any passing spies (such as the blond and redhead from before, who cheered quietly).
They headed up the stairs to the top office, which was filled with people busily working at computer screens covered in incomprehensible characters. One of them, a young, brown-haired man, smiled and stood when Gumshoe and Matsuda entered. "I assume you're the new member from Los Angeles? I'm L, or at least that's what you'll know me as for now. We have to be a bit suspicious about giving our names away, for obvious reasons."
"Er, about that, Rai-er, L..." Matsuda began.
"What is it, Matsuda?" The young man glared at Matsuda coldly.
"Don't worry about it, Mister Raier El!" Gumshoe announced brightly. "Matsuda here didn't give away any information at all!"
"...Then how do you know his name?" Raer L raised an eyebrow.
"...Educated guess?"
Raer L sighed and turned back to his work. "You two are well suited for each other. Go find clues or something."
If there was one thing Gumshoe had become good at over time, it was knowing when people were on the verge of screaming and throwing things at him. He grabbed Matsuda and dashed over the room.
Besides, he had clues to hunt for. Clues and, possibly, steaks.