WARNINGS: Spoilers for the whole series, violence, my weird crack OTPs.

#1 – Thanks

On the morning that Matsuda arrived in the office bearing a cup of tea for L, he received no thanks save for a blank stare that went over the top of his head; his endeavours became a little more successful the next day when he remembered to stir a handful of sugar cubes into the drink, an addition that earned him a glance and a nod; finally, sensing the pattern, he accompanied the tea with a pastry and a little box of strawberries, a gift which moved L to catch his eye, smile and say the simple words "Thank you" – and that alone was enough to keep Matsuda going for the rest of the month.

#2 – Restraint

It was the third time they had kissed, and it still seemed like L was not entirely sure how to go about it: his mouth was too forceful, the grip of his hands on Light's forearm and lower back far too tight, as if he were trying to prevent the younger man from moving; when Light disengaged in order to point this out, L fixed him with a look that implied that he had failed to grasp some entirely obvious and vital concept, and upon further consideration Light had to concede the point.

#3 – Child

When Halle was first introduced to her new employer, she had utterly refused to accept it – this was a child, there were even toys lying all over the place, for God's sake, and even if he was L's successor there was no way he was able to do this, he was just too young; the boy had met her incredulous gaze and solemnly informed her that, since he had spent not far off a decade preparing to assume this responsibility, he was likely to be the most appropriate candidate for the post and she would be wise to disregard his age; despite how disconcerting the speech had been, it seemed to be exactly what Halle had needed to hear, as she never again had any doubt of his capability.

#4 – Watch

It took Misa a fair amount of time to realise that when L said the handcuffs would be on 24/7 he meant it in the most literal sense possible, and longer still to work out just what that entailed (It isn't fair, why does Ryuzaki get to spend so much time with my Light when he should be with me, and you're such a pervert anyway, I bet you watch him in the shower, don't you"); Light endured her pouting and foot-stomping in silence and only later, after Misa had left, did he comment that she only seemed to be concerned about L seeing him naked and not vice versa; L lifted a shoulder in a lethargic shrug and said, "She thinks that you are more likely to be watched and I am more likely to watch – and wouldn't you agree with her assessment?"

#5 – Bruise

The first time L received a bruise, he was five years old and had misjudged the weight of the computer monitor he was currently wrestling from off the tabletop in order to make room for two new ones; he had managed to manoeuvre it to the edge of the desk and was using his shoulder as a pivot, one hand readied to catch the machine, the other shifting it gradually closer to him, when the monitor's centre of gravity turned out to be further forwards than expected and it fell with all its force onto his outstretched arm; he was fascinated by the pain, but still more so by the bright mark that had blossomed on his skin the next day, and he spent every possible second in pressing his thumb into the bruise and then releasing, just to see the way the colours spread slowly back into their previous pattern like liquid pooling under his skin.

#6 – Nervous

The worrying thing was not that they had argued – that was perfectly normal, and Matt would have been more alarmed if they had gone for the whole month without a fight – or that Mello was angry – again, that was quite usual, only to be expected; no, the issue was that Mello had now gone, vanished from sight and sound for well over an hour, and that alone was enough to make Matt very nervous indeed.

#7 – Tension

These strange desires that he had developed for L – he refused to call them "romantic" even in the privacy of his own head, opting instead for the word "sexual" if he were forced to think about it at all – were entirely inexplicable, and Light had put it down to the overflow of certain conflicts and tensions that existed between them, expecting the inconvenient attraction to dissipate along with his memories of the Death Note; if it were possible for him to have the recollections necessary, he would have been disappointed to be proven wrong, as the unprecedented thoughts only became more prominent in his mind after he began to consider himself innocent; a few weeks later, when Light awoke to find the detective straddling his stomach, his only reaction was to blink a few times, watch as L's hands slid slowly down the rumpled cloth of his shirt, and say, "About time."

#8 – Love

Life was no fun any more, Misa thought to herself as she sat in the heart of a lifeless array of mirrors while an endless procession of people trooped in and out with tools in hand, painting her face and glossing her lips and crimping her hair; she had used to love this, love her job, but all her love was elsewhere now and everything she had once enjoyed was beginning to feel worthless and hollow in comparison with that new, all-encompassing, shockingly wonderful emotion.

#9 – Pain

Soichiro had not been able to feel anything for quite a while – they had given him something in the ambulance which made his pain, along with a fair chunk of his consciousness, slide inexorably out of his grip – but as he lay in the hospital bed watching the look of agony in Light's eyes, he felt more strongly than ever before the full weight of what this case had done to him: it was because of the case that his daughter had been kidnapped, nearly killed, that his son had been imprisoned for weeks and under suspicion for years, and now it was to be because of the case that his family lost a father and his wife a husband; it was only then, as he saw the tears streaming down Light's face, that Soichiro truly began to hate Kira.

#10 – Authority

Mello's dramatic induction into the higher tiers of the gang had created a certain level of resentment among some of the lackeys, and it was not long before a small group of them challenged his authority, a spadelike pair of hands seizing his shoulders from behind as a hulking figure bore down on him; he felt the dull shock of the first fist landing in his face at the same time as the still more violent kick of the gun sent reverberations up his arm; Mello was left dishevelled, bleeding from his lips and gums, and more respected than he had ever been in his life.

#11 – Shock

Matsuda covered his face with trembling hands as his brain struggled to process the scene that he had just stumbled upon; he had known that Light and L were friends, the detective had said so, and it seemed like they hung out together at university, and of course they had probably grown closer since Light officially joined the team – but he had never, never in his life, expected to see the two of them doing something like that.

#12 – Truth

The water was not hot enough – it felt disgusting on Light's skin, cloying and lukewarm – and in a fit of frustration he seized the shower dial and twisted it all the way around; leaning his palm on the tiles, he allowed the steaming water to drench his head and back, pour over his hair and down his face like scalding tears, and at last he realised that it would never be enough: he could pinch himself until he bled, pull out handfuls of his own hair, immerse himself in boiling water and it would never be enough to bring him back to reality, never enough to convince him of the truth of L's death.

#13 – Hate

"I hate you," Mello spat, and Near allowed himself a few seconds to lean back, ignore his toys momentarily and contemplate what had been said: he did not know why Mello hated him, only that he incessantly said so, and no matter how he tried Near could not understand an emotion like hatred; certainly he did not hate Mello – he felt wariness, bemusement, a contradictory mixture of derision and respect, but not hatred – and so he simply replied, "I know."

#14 – Aftermath

Light's lip was split, the blood congealing on his chin and clogging up his tongue; his head was throbbing angrily and he could feel a lump developing some distance above his temple; he was still panting, and the heavy breaths made his ribs, tender from the battering they had received, ache and twinge uncontrollably; he gingerly turned his head and met L's gaze, noting the myriad fist-shaped bruises that decorated the detective's face, and said, "Thanks for that."

#15 – Drunk

"And another thing," Mello declared, spinning on his heel and pointing the bottle at Matt as if it were a sword, the sudden movement seeming to disorientate him and sending clear liquid splashing down over his fist and onto the grimy floor, "you've got no right to say I'm drunk, so fuck off."

#16 – Sugar

"Look, L," Light said as he moved his hand from the detective's tangled hair onto his shoulder and pushed him away, ignoring the disgruntled look his actions earned him and running the back of his other hand over his lips in disgust, "I understand that you like sugar and I don't have a problem with that – I mean, your nutrition and risk of diabetes ought to be your own problem – but when just kissing you is enough to give me cavities I've got to draw the line."

#17 – Scold

Watari did not see the relevance of the question – the man was dead, it hardly mattered how he had liked to fill his time or who he had known socially – but as soon as he voiced this opinion he began to regret it: L abruptly ceased shuffling papers, turned around to face him, and said with all the gravity that an eight year old child could muster that it was no wonder Mr. Wammy had never gone into the business of detecting.

#18 – Joke

"Do you know," L announced seemingly to thin air, one night after everyone else had thrown in the towel and only he, Light and the handcuffs remained, "in all my years of experience I have never once been involved in a case where the butler did it – that seems odd to me"; Light gave him a sharp glance, wondering where the conversation was headed, but then, seeing the wary, expectant look the man was giving him, realised that this was L's tentative attempt at a joke.

#19 – Dreams

Wammy's House, despite its exemplary facilities and controversial techniques, was at its heart a school, and so it too suffered from the age-old problems of limited facilities from time to time; its staff had decided that given how quiet Near was, not a troublemaker in the slightest, it would do no harm to have him share a room with the new boy, and that was how Matt discovered that the highest-ranked child at Wammy's in fact suffered from cripplingly intense and vivid dreams; while he had never talked to Near about it, he could not help but feel as though the knowledge, so surprisingly personal, gave him a connection with Near that few others could boast.

#20 – Roses

Light stopped short when he saw that there was someone already standing at L's grave, a man in a dark suit who was just straightening up after placing a pair of roses on the flat grey stone; upon approaching further Light recognised him as Matsuda, face tearstained – so unprofessional – and appearing slightly embarrassed as he explained that he had just thought to leave the roses, and that he hoped it wasn't inappropriate but he had meant the second one to be from Light; the flowers were wilting, obviously several days old, and as Matsuda ducked his head and gave in to a second eruption of tears Light simply stood staring at them, marvelling at the sick kind of situations that fate seemed to revel in creating for him.

#21 – Vanity

Mello placed his hands on either side of the sink, leaned forwards until he was nose to nose with his own reflection, took a deep breath and simply looked; his skin was healing unevenly, forming dark layers of scar tissue right beside areas that were still raw and open, and although he had managed to avoid infection so far he could see that it was not going to be a pretty scar; Mello had never thought of himself as someone who considered appearance to be important, and it was only then, glaring into his own ruined face, that he realised the extent of his vanity.

#22 – Lollipops

Light pulled the sheets up around his neck and pressed the side of his head firmly into the pillow, glowering at the wall as if attempting to set it alight with the heat of his eyes alone; although the sounds had now been muffled, they were still impossible to ignore, soft wet slurps and sighs of pleasure that penetrated his consciousness and made his teeth grind together in frustration; at last, after a particularly loud suction noise followed by a hum of contentment, Light threw off the covers, rolled over to fix L with a look of exasperation and snapped, "Don't eat lollipops in bed!"

#23 – Snow

The snow was crystallising on her clothes, melting in her hair, sticking in her eyelashes, and as Naomi walked away, acutely aware of the soft crunch of her boots meeting the ground and the boy's hard gaze boring into her back, a single thought formed hollowly and instantaneously in her mind: that ever since Raye had died, she had never cared all that much about her own life.

#24 – Tower

Technically it was unimportant that L had chosen to live on the top storey of the new headquarters and that Light, handcuffed as he was, would therefore have to do the same – the lifts in the building were very fast and in any case it only meant a few extra minutes' worth of travelling each day – but Light was feeling grouchy and childish after not enough sleep, so upon learning the news he muttered something about how unreasonable it was, and what with building a tower like this maybe Ryuzaki was compensating for something; the detective fixed him with a blank, genuinely uncomprehending stare, and no amount of questioning would convince Light to explain what he had meant by that.

#25 – Gauze

Misa brought the matchstick to her lips and carefully blew it out, her eyes scanning the room while a smug smile formed on her face: there were candles on every surface, filling the air with the smell of musk and jasmine, the bed and windows were draped with gauze and decorated with petals, and she was wearing her favourite black satin negligee; she was just sitting on the end of the mattress and trying to decide how best to arrange her legs when the telephone rang; she stood beside the dresser, phone pressed to her ear and a chill breaking out across her bare skin, staring into the flickering scarlet candle flames while Light's voice distantly informed her that he would not be back that evening after all, and she replied softly that it was all right – she knew how busy he was – but to be sure to come home tomorrow.

#26 – Waiting

Thanks to the access that Matt had gained to the administration network of Wammy's computer systems, Mello always managed to learn of an impending visit before almost anybody else; when the morning of the fated day arrived, he would make his way to the top of the stairs and conceal himself there, waiting in unspeakable excitement for the moment when the door would open and he would launch himself down the staircase and into L's arms.

#27 – Caution

Light had no real objection to one night stands – there was nothing morally wrong with casual sex and as long as both parties consented he saw no problem with it – but all the same he had avoided involving himself in it until that night, reasoning that there were a number of risks involved with such things; lying on the hard hotel mattress, he watched the dark silhouette navigate its way around the shadowy room and curse as its owner struggled into his clothing in the darkness, and Light decided then that perhaps he had been overly careful beforehand; the man he had picked up certainly spoke aggressively, but he had done nothing threatening and indeed behaved in a surprisingly cautious, even paranoid manner; in fact, while Light had gained an intimate knowledge of the man's body (blond, slight build, long legs, narrow hips…) it was almost as if he were being prevented from getting a good look at his face – and all at once Light bolted upright, knocking the corner table over in his haste as he struggled to turn the lamp on – but the man had already gone, leaving him sitting dumbstruck on the rumpled bed, simultaneously cursing his own stupidity and wondering whether maybe, just maybe, the thought that had hit him was insane enough to be correct.

#28 – Art

"I know Roger probably won't like it but I don't really care," Matt said, standing triumphantly in the centre of his creation, hands on his hips, his face and clothes flecked all over with liberal amounts of blue paint, "he said we could decorate our rooms however we like and I happen to think that Sonic is cool."

#29 – Hug

L was never able to completely relax whilst sitting with his feet on the floor, and what with the additional factor that there was a teenager in his lap, clinging to him and placing an uncomfortable weight on his knees, he was beginning to feel distinctly ill at ease; he shifted his body awkwardly, unsure how to behave, but Mello merely wrapped his arms still more tightly around L's torso and pressed his face into the detective's chest, his muffled voice instructing L to stay still and hug him, damn it, and as L hesitantly lifted his arms and settled them around the boy's shoulders, he could not help but wonder exactly what sort of relationship it was that Mello wanted from him.

#30 – Sense

Mikami did not have to look over his shoulder to know that there was a man following him: he had heard the distant footsteps, just barely out of synch with his own, and even if it were not for that factor, he had developed a highly sensitive awareness of his surroundings which enabled him to sense the man's presence behind him; despite this, he did not turn and look or even falter in his pace – God had warned him of this possibility, had told him to show no signs that he was aware of being followed, and God's words must be obeyed.

#31 – Mourning

Nobody seemed to have put much thought into what would happen to the children of Wammy's House after L died – to those that ran the orphanage, the idea had always seemed so remote, the children an insurance that would never be needed – and so it was little wonder that when the impossible finally occurred, the separate elements of Wammy's, always so different and united only by their common purpose, at once exploded into their component parts; Near, allowing himself no pause, at once began work on consolidating the various pieces of information that L had had at his disposal; his colleagues had commented on how well he was coping, how quickly he had adjusted to his new way of life, and even Near himself did not immediately recognise the cause of the nightmares that were plaguing him, the sickeningly hollow feeling in the pit of his stomach that had him vomiting every night, or the horrifying dull ache that surrounded his thoughts.

#32 – Overtake

When Light was two – talking fluently and teaching himself to write by painstakingly copying out every written text he was able to gain access to – Soichiro had joked that he and his wife had better pay attention or before they knew it their son would overtake them; when Light was six – hiding under his bedclothes at night to conceal the torchlight by which he read his encyclopaedias and complaining at how slow and irritating his classmates were – Soichiro had remarked that the boy must surely have been catching up with him by now; it was not until Light was ten – collecting admirers like most children collected stickers whilst in his spare time winning so many awards that some of them had to be moved into the attic to make room to display the new ones – that Soichiro realised he had never been ahead.

#33 – Defeat

As L stared ruefully at the soggy pile of mush lying dejectedly where it had landed after its forceful ejection from his mouth, he reflected that in some cases there was no option but to admit defeat; no matter how much effort he exerted or how much strawberry sauce he utilised, there was absolutely no hope that he would ever be able to make vegetables palatable.

#34 – Milk

Matt sat motionless, jaw hanging open, as Near moved backwards away from him, and at that moment there were only three thoughts in the older boy's head: firstly, that despite all evidence to the contrary Near did indeed seem to have a level of interest in other people, secondly, that despite his manner he was far from passive in his dealings with others, and thirdly, that exactly in accordance with his appearance Near's body smelled of unperfumed soap and his skin felt like smooth paper and his mouth tasted of milk.

#35 – Shatter

Matsuda felt his legs give way beneath him and he collapsed onto his knees on the hard concrete, a thousand images flooding through his mind – Light smiling, sharing a joke with the task force to disperse the monotony, Light crying at his father's deathbed, Light screaming as he cradled L's body in his arms – and despite all of the events that he had witnessed that day Matsuda's brain did not want to accept that everything he had seen in this charming, intelligent, beautiful young man was either destroyed or had never existed to begin with; he screwed his eyes shut and hung his head, unwilling to look, but he could still hear everything that was said and the words only served to shatter his mind into still smaller pieces – until there was a sudden flurry of panic and Matsuda found himself on his feet: he spun to face Light, feeling the hot tears begin to stream uncontrollably down his face, lined up his aim, and fired.

#36 – Enthusiasm

Although L had the common sense to behave as if nothing had happened between the two of them so long as there were other people around, it was becoming alarmingly difficult to ward him off whenever they were alone; holding the detective at arms' length, Light told him that although he appreciated the enthusiasm there was really no need for them to jump each other like this all the time, and the look that L gave him was deathly serious as he informed Light that it could not be helped – he was simply not accustomed to physical relationships; there seemed to be a fundamental flaw in this argument, but as L bypassed his defences and latched onto him once more, Light decided to let the matter slide.

#37 – Hell

It was winter, and winter ought to mean snow, Mello thought as he moved around his room in a directionless yet frantically accelerated stumble, hoping that this thick haze in front of his eyes would clear soon as otherwise he would have no option but to either cry or risk falling over something; it sometimes snowed on Christmas, one of the few times of year when he could look forward to – whatever it was that had made Christmas enjoyable, back in the days when his life was the right colour and the right way up – and it sometimes snowed on his birthday, and yet now the sky was perfectly clear, not seeming to realise what had happened, not realising that it ought to have been boiling or splitting in two; Mello was convinced, knew without doubt, that nobody and nothing except him really understood how much of a hell this world was, a place where L could die.

#38 – Shinigami

Ryuk had never known Gelus personally, but when he heard from Misa about what the little patchwork death god had done, he could not prevent himself from laughing: the idea of a shinigami wanting to save a human, even sacrificing himself in the process, was too hilarious, too ridiculous, to comprehend; the story only served to convince him further that Light – superior, aloof, coldly contemptuous and with no discernable regard for human life – was indeed a far greater shinigami than many genuine gods of death.

#39 – Cute

It was a shame she had such stuffy parents, Sayu thought to herself with a small pout as she left the rest of her family to their tea – her father and mother were already expressing their disapproval of her relationship with Mr. Matsuda and they didn't even have one yet – well, never mind them, she decided: she thought that he was cute and it had been adorably obvious that he liked her too; for a few minutes she toyed with the thought of saying as much to her family, and although in the end she resolved not to, she did not entirely discard the idea of joking to Light about being jealous of his workmates.

#40 – Sleep

It was not that L disliked the physical sensations of sleep – although it was true that his unusual posture was less than convenient for the purpose, often causing him to wake up with all of his muscles cramping unbearably – or that he considered it unnecessary – although he did despise the idea of sacrificing a third of his valuable time to lying unconscious, unable to even control his thoughts – but rather that his paranoia, now developed well beyond the level that would qualify it as obsessive, did not allow him to exist in such a vulnerable state for longer than an hour at a time before it yanked him, thrashing and on the verge of panic, back into consciousness.

#41 – Familiar

It was really rather uncanny, Light thought, staring coldly down at the pale face revealed to him as the plastic mask clattered down onto the damp concrete: this was certainly a stranger – tiny, colourless and seemingly folding in on himself – and yet there was something horribly and inevitably familiar about that smug little smile and those huge dark eyes.

#42 – Lip Gloss

Takada would have been the first to admit that her motives behind inviting Misa Amane to dinner had been far from friendly – she had hoped to find out more about her rival, to judge for herself exactly what sort of a threat, if any, the girl would pose to her – and although she had not anticipated that the model would figure this out, she had not exactly looked forward to a relaxed and cordial evening; it seemed, however, that Amane had resolved not to make even a cursory attempt at politeness, as the second she laid eyes on the newsreader she had marched up, seized her hair in two tiny fists and planted an aggressive kiss on her lips; "There!" Misa exclaimed triumphantly as Takada, stunned, touched two fingers to her mouth where she could taste the other woman's cherry-flavoured lip gloss, "I bet stuck-up Miss Takada would never be able to kiss him like that!"

#43 – Suicide

In a way, Mikami thought as he stood on his stripped mattress and tied the final knot into the coarse sheets, it was a blessing that he had been sent here (but why God would have blessed him if he had failed, and when God wasn't even God any more, he could not have said) – but whether or not it were due to divine intervention, Mikami had never expected to be given the opportunity to meet so many sinners face-to-face; he had spoken to them, told them of his God and what he had done (but what exactly it was that God had done Mikami could not recall, and there seemed to be a lump of rock in his mind which could not be shifted and was shielding the truth from him) but since none of them had offered him any help in sorting out his unbearably scattered and mixed up impressions of previous events, Mikami saw no further purpose in his existence; as he pulled the loop of cloth down around his neck, he briefly wondered whether his God frowned upon suicide, but since he was not certain that the concern made any sense, he did not hesitate to step off the end of the bed.

#44 – Yellow

Although all of the staff at Wammy's had access to the children's files, in which Mello was described as "volatile; tendencies towards aggression and violence", most of them had not met the boy firsthand and as such found themselves entirely unable to anticipate how he might behave; certainly the young woman in charge of preparing a bedroom for him – who had only ever seen his photograph and had concluded from it that the rumours of the kid's uncontrollable temper must have been highly exaggerated – had not expected Mello to react with such concentrated fury to the clothing she had selected for him; it seemed to be the lemon yellow pyjamas (chosen because she had thought they would match his hair so nicely) that had triggered it, but all she knew at the time was that the boy, seemingly so pretty and harmless, had screamed profanities, barricaded her into the room and made her watch as he tore apart every item that did not fit his requirements – which turned out to be everything with even a hint of colour in it.

#45 – Fight

"Freak," Light snarled, and a foot caught him in the stomach and sent him sprawling onto his back, struggling for breath; "Narcissist," was the retort, and then Light was lashing out wildly, aiming punch after punch at the body that was closing in above him, swiping at the hands attempting to pin his wrists down; "Spoiled brat," he gasped, and before he knew it his fingers were tearing at clothing and there was a hand seizing his hair while another grabbed his jaw in a painfully tight grip and turned his face upwards, forcing him to look into the other man's eyes; "Liar," L said, and then they were kissing again.

#46 – Forgiveness

Matsuda was the one who had to do it – he was always given the worst jobs, the ones nobody else would have agreed to do, so he ought to have expected it – but nobody had warned him how hard it would be, how difficult to force the words out of his throat, how impossible to watch Misa's lovely face journey slowly, so slowly, from cheeriness to shock to horrific despair; Matsuda had wanted to fall to his knees in front of her, tell her that he hadn't known, hadn't known what Light was doing, hadn't meant to say what he did, hadn't meant to fire his gun and oh God, he had killed Kira, Kira who was Light, and he would never be forgiven but he wanted to beg her for it anyway.

#47 – Photograph

"Mello, smile," Roger said, exasperated, lowering the camera to fix the stubbornly glowering boy with a direct look; Mello only screwed his face further into a scowl and thrust his hands into his pockets as he muttered that he had been forced to get dressed neatly and go outside just to get some stupid pointless photo taken, what the hell else did Roger expect; the old man rolled his eyes in frustration, looking pleadingly at the long queue of children waiting beside him to be photographed, and from somewhere in the line Near raised his voice, asking Roger if this were really necessary – after all, it was not like L would need to see their pictures in order to evaluate them; Mello seemed to agree on this point, but that did not stop him from at once straightening up and offering a defiant yet genuine smile.

#48 – Fear

Matsuda very deliberately kept his eyes fixed on the rail below him, not daring to look over the edge of the balcony for fear that his elbows would give way of their own accord, and having taken a deep breath and praying to whatever god looked out for policemen, let go; for the split second during which he was falling he was more terrified than he had ever been in his entire life, and even after he had landed on the mattress he could not breathe, as the impact had knocked all of the air out of him; back at headquarters, L complained about the inconvenience and the danger they had all been put through and, turning on Matsuda, told him that he was lucky to have found colleagues willing to put up with this nonsense, and Matsuda could only nod in stunned agreement.

#49 – Bed

They changed facing away from each other, Light staring hard at the wall in grim embarrassment and resolutely ignoring the faint rustling of clothing and shuffling of feet as L exchanged his jeans for a pair of dark grey tracksuit trousers (his shirt must have been moulding itself to his skin by now, as he always seemed to be wearing the exact same one – either that, or L owned a thousand of them); Light's attempts at pretending to be alone were shattered at the metallic clink and cold pressure of the cuff being snapped back over his wrist, and after hesitating for long enough to earn a sharp tug on the chain by way of encouragement, he turned around and, doing his best to act as if the whole situation were not deeply unsettling, slid gingerly into bed beside the detective; L broke the silence with the abrupt declaration that "There is a 72% chance that we will have participated in a sexual interaction before this case ends", and Light, feeling his face flare with outrage and embarrassment, flung a pillow at the older man's head and told him to shut up.

#50 – No-One

Mello hung up without waiting for Halle's reply, and for several minutes he merely sat staring hollowly at the wall opposite him while his brain, acting quite automatically, began to form and evaluate possible plans of action; the only thought he was aware of apart from the whirring and calculating of his analytical mind was that if this worked, if he really managed to pull this one off and sculpt himself into the perfect wrench for Kira's perfect plan, he would be number one at last, indisputably top but with no-one left alive to acknowledge his position there; the thought would have made him sob with fury if not for its sick humour, and so it was without emotion that he dialled another number, waited for the familiar click and the distorted voice that greeted him, and told the telephone and the world, "There's been a change of plan."

Author's note: Ahhh, I love single-sentence challenges. I tend to use really long sentences anyway so it's all good. XD Comments much appreciated. :D