I've been wanting to start a collection of drabbles for the task-force plus L, Light, and Misa for a while now. Finally, I gave in and had to write something. This is all because I was watching episode 5 and noticed how close L was to falling over. This is your fault, L. because of you, I've created another Fic. I hope you're proud of yourself.

The following chapters will contain yaoi, crack-like situations and dialogue, scenes viewers may find disturbing, and most importantly: my horrible writing which I am extremely apologetic for. Sorry!

Disclaimer: I don't own Death Note.

Awkwardly, the five men stared at this... owlish thing that called himself L. Needless to say, the pathetic excuse for a man stood out against the police officers sitting around the room, the air around them formal and well-mannered.

Then again, an gerbil would seem well-mannered when placed next to this guy.

'Seriously,' Matsuda thought to himself, his hands awkwardly placed between his knees, 'They even wash their faces every few minutes. And behind their ears! Does this guy wash behind his ears? I bet he doesn't. That's so gross; I bet there's all kinds of stuff growing-'

The disappointment to all gerbils looked at his cup, tilted his head, and pulled a disgusted face.

He placed the object back on the table and started unloading diabetes into it. As in, he started dropping enough sugar cubes into his cup that the contents became white grains with some brown liquid under it. Apparently indifferent to the stares of horror from across the room, he leaned further forward, bringing his body closer to the table, and reached to bring the china once again to his lips.

However, with all the best deductive abilities in the world, the great and genius detective L and not considered physics or gravity while attempting to succeed in this should-be harmless task.

His feet, now holding his body up by only his toes, were unable to grip the end of the armchair seat; the material was fancy and high-quality, but slippery and difficult to grasp onto. In painfully slow-motion, the occupants of the room were forced to watch as the 25-year-old man (though you wouldn't know it by looking at him,) was sent hurdling forwards, his skull sent plummeting onto the front of the table. It slammed down against the clean, waxed wood with enough force to raise the opposite end into the air by inches, before dropping back onto the ground with a heavy 'BANG!' The china, sugar, and what little tea hadn't been dissolved into sludge jolted into the air before crashing down onto the floor, spilling themselves around the carpet.

Perhaps fortunately, if you are an optimistic person, as L's body came to join the cutlery and lumps of sugar on the ground, he avoided crushing anything that would prove to be sharp.

For a few brief moments, the team stayed silent as they stared at the lump of fallen man on the ground.

"...Shit!"

"Oh my God, are you okay?"

"What the hell happened?"

"Is he dead?"

L groaned a response to the last question, thankfully still alive and conscious. Slowly, he brought his hand to his head, and pulled himself up using the table, making a high-pitched whine once positioned correctly.

"Mother of FUCK." He cursed, nursing his forehead and squeezing his eyes shut.

The police members stared at the scene before them.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, shitting FUCK that hurt." He continued, making "Ahh" sounds with his lips in-between swears.

For most of them, they opted for staying silent as Watari rushed in with a bag of frozen peas in his hand, much to the detective's displeasure, unsure of how on earth to react to such a surprising act of failed sitting. Matsuda was the only man brave (or stupid) enough to mutter a brief "A gerbil wouldn't have fallen over..." before allowing the injured L to continue the meeting.

He did not remove the peas for the rest of the night.

Thank you very much for reading!