II. L

Ice cream melted slowly in L's mouth as he watched Misa bounce around on the television screen. As he brought another spoonful of his sundae to his mouth, he told himself he was just evaluating her public persona to help with his deductions involving the Kira case. But her name had been cleared weeks ago along with Light's, thanks to the "13-day" rule in the Death Note. If he was perfectly honest with himself, he would realize that he simply liked watching her.

In fact, when he had deduced that Misa was the second Kira, he was hoping that the first Kira was forcing her to kill. And that she would willingly give up information on Kira for protection. But she utterly refused.

As Misa's image winked at him from the screen, L let his spoon drop from his fingers and hung his head. Images of Watari drugging her with sodium pentathol haunted his mind. The memory of her slurred speech struck a dissonant chord with the chirping voice coming from the television's speakers. He covered his eyes when he remembered her long, slender legs shaking as they strained to keep her standing in the restraints that lashed her to the handtruck. He tried to forget her squirming in the straight-jacket to find some kind of relief from the red chaff marks marring her milky neck.

L found himself curling into himself as his memory made its natural progression to Misa's desperate cry for death. Was she screaming for the shinigami to kill her? The original Kira? Or L himself?

As Misa's laughter tinkled through the room, L's scruffy head rested on his knees as he gripped his ankles. He reasoned that torturing Misa was necessary to help draw out Kira. But he still couldn't forgive himself. Not for her pain. Her screams. Or her tears.

At that moment, L picked up the sound of a sniffle behind him. Slowly, he raised his head and looked behind him to see Misa's striped stockings as she walked down the stairs. He remembered that she and Light were having an argument at the entrance and Light had taken her up to his room. He didn't want to see them argue further, so he turned off the surveillance out of respect for their privacy.

Was it a mistake? L unfolded himself out of the chair and padded over to the stairway. As her golden head came into view, he could see her face was slightly reddened and her eyes intently studying the steps below her.

"Misa?" L hunched over and placed a thumb against his lips. "Misa? Are you alright?"

Misa started and looked in L's direction as she finished her descent down the steps. "Oh! Yeah, I'm fine!"

"Did something happen between you and Light?"

"Oh, we just had a silly little fight. That's all. It happens between lovers eventually." Misa's giggle was too quick, too highly pitched to sound natural.

"Want to talk about it? I can be a very good listener." Though he was taller than Misa, L's usual habit of slouching meant he had to angle his head up to look Misa in the eye. He pressed his thumb firmly against his mouth to fight the temptation to smooth out the golden strands hanging in her face.

"No. That's okay. Things will work themselves out."

"Alright then."

L would never know what possessed him to do it. It was like his arms moved of their own volition to wrap themselves around Misa's tiny waist. He placed his head on Misa's lace-covered shoulder, his lips inches away from her ear. He could feel Misa stiffen at the sudden intimacy and caught the slight upward motion of her chin as she sneaked a look back up the stairs.

"But I'm here if you ever do want to talk. And if things don't work out between you and Light, I'll still..." L stopped himself briefly, choosing his words carefully. "...Be here."

Misa's arms wrapped around L's neck and pulled him closer. As L's body pressed against hers, he compared her skin to a strawberry shortcake: sweet like the fruit, soft and pliable like the cake underneath and delicate like the whipped cream that topped it all. His hand moved up to stroke her hair, which smelled like the lilac tree he used to play under as a child. His reverie was broken as Misa buried her face in his shoulder and let out a heaving sob.

"I'm so sorry!" Misa let out a strangled sound as she tried to get enough breath. "I just... just wanted Light to love me! I never meant for it to go this far. Please forgive me!"

"Forgive you for what, Misa? What would you have to apologize over?"

Misa hiccuped, letting L go. Her hands rose to her mouth and her eyes widened. "Um... nothing. Nothing. I'm just... overly emotional."

After a few moments hesitation, she made a show of checking her watch. "Oh, God! Look at the time! I've got an early shoot tomorrow! I've got to go! Bye, L! Thanks for the shoulder!" She planted a butterfly-like kiss on L's cheek and dashed out of the building.

L stood still until he could no longer see her, then brushed his fingertips over where Misa's lips touched him. He moved back over to the control console. For a solid minute, his fingers hovered over the switches as he debated turning on the recorded footage of Light's room. He looked back at the hallway leading outside. He sighed as his hand dropped to his side.

"Let the lovers have their quarrel", he reasoned.