"L, promise that we won't forget each other, alright?" The girl said, her blue eyes big and teary. Her grip on his wrists was so tight… His blood was pounding through to his wrists, and he wouldn't be surprised if his fingers were turning blue. But… He didn't want her to let go.

The autumn air blew their hair around, and the swaying of the fiery orange trees caused a whisper in the crisp afternoon air. The leaves scattered the front lawn of the orphanage, and periodic shouts of children could be heard. But L could barely hear them. All he could see was her, her unruly hair as she stood in front of the van, an impatient driver tapping his fingers on the wheel. Whammy was only a few feet off, looking as stoic as ever. Even if he didn't speak, it was clear what he was saying.

Hurry up, you two.

"I promise, Cyan."

Young L watched in silent terror as the van rumbled down the stone path, making its way down the streets of London. It would be a decade before he saw her again.

It was a rather strange sensation, sitting next to L again. Then again, sitting usually wasn't a part of the young woman's job. Usually, her job required skilled hand-to-hand combat, and the occasional assassination.

But let's not get ahead of ourselves.

"Cyan, have you ran the profiles yet?" The odd man said, not taking his eyes off of his current activity; he was currently beheading a village of gummy bears between his sharp teeth.

"Oh… Is that what I was doing?" Cyan asked, her blue eyes suddenly widening and her face darkening with embarrassment. She was never meant for desk work! She had never had the patience!

The young woman had quite an interesting past; she was an orphan, raised at an orphanage that was notorious for the steady wave of geniuses it produced. Whammy's house. London wouldn't be complete without it. And just as London wouldn't be complete without Whammy's, Cyan wouldn't be complete without her closest friend, L. Even though they hadn't been in contact for some time, Cyan couldn't forget all of the fun they had together as children; most of this fun had been merely reading next to each other in the library or walking around outside together, though Cyan usually had to fight for the strange boy to ever leave the indoors. In many ways, this young woman was lonely. Is that what was so fulfilling about being placed in the Kira case, or was it… something else entirely? Cyan couldn't say.

When it came to looks, Cyan took great care in keeping herself as plain as possible. As an agent for MI6, she had to draw very little attention to herself. She kept her honey brown hair rather short, the longest strands barely making it halfway down her neck. There was more than one reason for this; Cyan had curly, bouncy hair that was often unruly, and proved to be quite a pain when long. She was small in stature, which gave her an additional edge. With someone small and shy looking as a fighter, who would ever assume she knew how to break someone's neck in seven different flavors?

But when it came to L's looks, he hadn't changed a bit. Well, he obviously got taller, and even more spindly. He had gotten even paler too. When they had their awkward reunion, it was one of the first things she had noticed. L took horrible care of himself… And she had thought that some of her skills had rubbed off on him early on!

L hummed in his throat; the closest he could ever usually come to a laugh. "I see. If you find yourself too distracted by my alluring presence, then I have no problem with dismissing you for tonight."

"Shut up! I just hate desk work. Sitting still is driving me insane!" She groaned, gripping at some of her brown hair and pulling it.

"Well, I can tell you that your true purpose will be key to an upcoming task force operation. Is that good enough incentive?" L asked, his large, dark eyes finally flickering over towards the woman.

Suddenly, as though a switch had been flipped, Cyan lit up. The corners of her mouth twitched upward, an excited grin spreading across her plain features.

"Finally! I hate being so damn useless…" She griped, giving L an exaggeratedly mournful look.

Something in L's face changed at that, but he said nothing. His large eyes went back to the skin, which cast a blue light over his exceedingly pale skin, making every black feature on him stand out. From here, he looked like a zombie!

"Yes, well, we will discuss this operation tomorrow, when the task force comes back. It seemed like a bad way to end the day, and keeping them here all night is not a viable option, unfortunately." Said L, who was currently biting on his thumb nail. Why didn't he look more excited? Planning operations was L's life! Cyan frowned, and looked at the male, concern on her face. His eyes were so glued to the screen… And he seemed to have forgotten about peripheral vision. There was no doubt about it, he was avoiding her gaze. But why? He was the detective here, not her. She hadn't a clue.

"Okay. I'd like to stay, but not all of us can function on coffee and diabetes fuel alone." Cyan said teasingly, trying to operate in her more preferred atmosphere. She hated seriousness… Cyan was rarely serious about anything- she'd simply leave a room if it had too much stuffiness when it came to personalities- and the woman seemed to contrast L completely in this way. Well, come to think of it, was there a single way in which they were similar? At this point, Cyan was glad that the rest of the task force had left the hotel. She had zoned out again.

L stared at the woman blankly, taking in every little detail. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't pleased to be working with her, even if she didn't serve a purpose yet. But soon, that would change. And that was exactly what was bothering him. It felt as though the decapitated gummy bears were holding a riot in his stomach; his heart seemed to be beating irregularly… What the hell was happening to him? Cyan could handle herself… Why should he worry? L shook it off. He had other things to direct his mental power to. He watched as Cyan got to her feet and stretched, groaning lowly.

"Well, call me if you find anything! I don't mind how late." She said, giving the male a gentle smile. She brushed off her skirt, and grabbed a small bag that she had parked next to her seat.

"Alright. Goodnight, Cyan." L said lowly, dreading the hours to come. He reveled in silence, and the dark of night had never bothered him before. Why shouldn't he be happy to be alone? Because Cyan was his friend. But so was Light. Suddenly, the dark felt oppressive and dangerous. The hotel room was so dark, only because that was what he always insisted upon. Maybe this was just all in his mind… Or maybe the excessive amounts of coffee was finally taking its toll.

"Goodnight." Cyan returned, walking past L and placing a hand on his head as she went. His hair was still soft… Just like when they were kids! Cyan had commonly used such a gesture when they were young, before they had gone their separate ways. What a blast from the past… Cyan smiled to herself as she walked out of the room, and down the hall, to the elevator and finally down onto the street.

L had disregarded his uninterested ruse; he had watched the young woman leave, his eyes glued to the back of her curly head. He could still feel her hand in his hair… In a single moment, he had been transported to a different decade. It had hit him like a bus. Cyan… You're wrong. They haven't made a weapon of you yet. Not yet.

Please, forgive me.