Well, this may (or may not) prove to be a huge mistake, but I got loads of reviews for the original fic Stolen Away asking for a sequel/continuation, and since the storyline isn't yet completely redundant, I decided to bend to your collective will. If you didn't want a sequel, you should have said "Oh god, please don't write any more…". Ha ha…

So, yes. This fic probably won't be very long. Maybe about three chapters…?

Also, a lot of people asked if I liked/read DNAngel, Thief and Detective and Gorgeous Carat. No to both DNAngel and Thief and Detective (as much as that may surprise you) but yes to Gorgeous Carat. Though I have to say that I didn't really have either Gorgeous Carat or something like Saint Tail in mind when I wrote the original fic – L's character was really based more on the original World's Greatest Thief, Lupin III.

And so, to France! Yayz!

Stolen Away – II

Detective Light Yagami's French was, at best, passable.

Mogi, incidentally, was very good at it; in retrospect, it probably would have been useful to have had Mogi with him. Maybe it was his (slight) control-freak nature, but Light didn't like not knowing what was going on around him down to the tiniest detail – and that was exactly position in which he now found himself, with people bustling to and fro, speaking French that he could pick out words from but struggled to follow.

Light hadn't told anybody else in the Department of Criminal Intelligence and Investigation that he was going to France; calling his father from his hotel after arriving in Europe to say that he'd left Japan for a few days to follow a lead on L.

Which wasn't a lie.

Of course, he'd neglected to mention where he'd gotten the lead from; and also didn't give a satisfactory answer when his father asked why he'd gone alone.

Well… Light wasn't entirely sure of the answer to that himself. Somehow, since L himself had given him this clue to begin with, it seemed kind of… personal. Additionally Light got the impression that L had been counting on him coming alone to France. Not hoping that he'd come alone – knowing that he would.

So Light had played right into his hands. He'd known that to begin with. Booking his place ticket had been booking a ticket right into L's little trap for him.

Still, that wasn't necessarily a bad thing. L's confidence could certainly be his downfall – and though it had perhaps been idiotic of Light to not bring the rest of his department along for the rendezvous with the master thief, he was pretty certain that he, if he played all his cards right, could catch L here in France and return to Japan victorious in having had the tricky bastard carted off to some French maximum security prison.

Light felt a smirk pull at his mouth even as he sat there; in a blue plush chair in the hallway outside the director of the Police Nationale's office. He'd already battled his way through various spliced French conversations with a few lower down personnel, flashing his Japanese NPA detective's crest, saying that he had a lead on L; at which they'd flapped and panicked, snatching the French newspaper cutting from him. Eventually a commissioner had taken him upstairs and told him to wait out here while he went in to speak with the director.

Now, a good ten minutes later, the door opened and the same commissioner looked out at the young detective.

"If you'd like to come in, Detective Yagami, the director will see you," he said; Light didn't catch all of what he said, but got the gist of it and rose with a grateful smile, passing the commissioner and entering the room.

The office was small, cluttered with files and piles of papers, with straight yellowed blinds at the tiny window. The director, a small but thick-set man in a dark grey suit, with silvery hair and a thin, carefully-clipped moustache, sat behind a desk on which the coffee-maker and the glass ashtray had pride of place. He greeted Light in smoky French as the commissioner closed the door behind them, and gestured with his cigar-holding hand to the seat before his desk. Light sank into it, and although the director watched him carefully, he said nothing for a long moment.

"Do you speak English?" he asked at length, cigar pressed back to his lips.

"Yes," Light replied with a nod, the language coming to him far more easily than French.

"Very well, we'll continue in English, then," the director decided. "Commissioner Cordeux informs me that your French is good enough, but not quite perfect. You'll forgive me, but I speak no Japanese – and since this a matter of high importance, we must be sure that no details become lost in translation."

Light nodded again in agreement.

"Pardon my imprudence, but if I might see your badge and license before we begin?" the director went on.

"Of course." Light fished out his wallet and handed it across the desk; the director examined it briefly before giving it back, seemingly satisfied.

"So, you have reason to believe that the great thief L will soon come to steal the famed Crown Le St. Aubert Bijou from the Musée de l'Histoire de France?"

"That's right. L last struck in Japan, stealing the Earth's Eye, which was on loan from a museum in Shanghai."

"Was that particular artefact not retrieved?"

"Well, yes, but—"

"Non, non, I see your point." The director inhaled deeply in his cigar, apparently oblivious to the fact that he had partially-reverted to his native tongue. "There is no reason why he should not strike again despite his failure in his last theft."

"He is going to strike again," Light insisted. "He's going to steal that crown."

"And you know this due to a newspaper clipping from a French newspaper, detailing the crown's exhibition, having been sent, presumably by L himself, to the NPA headquarters in Tokyo?"

"That's right."

The director here took out an identical newspaper clipping from his desk drawer, pushing it across the desk to Light.

"How would you feel, detective, if I was to tell you that we received this same clipping only two days ago?"

Light blinked, looking up at him.

"You… did?"

The director nodded gravely.

"We have had task squads present around the crown for the past two nights, but L has made no move yet. Still, I wonder why he took the trouble to inform the Japanese police. I do not mean to appear rude, but the theft of a French crown from a French museum has little to do with the NPA."

Light nodded absently; hiding his inward mounting annoyance at L for playing him like this beneath a mask of calm conjecture. Damn it, why did he feel so… cheated?

If he ever ran across L again, he was going to hit him with something. Something heavy. And blunt. And very, very damaging. And more than once.

"So, though I do not mean to insult your generous intentions, I believe this has been a waste of your time, detective," the director said, arresting his attention once more.

"Looks like it," Light muttered blackly.

"Ah, but it would be rude of us to simply send you home, non? And after you came all this way to help us." Inhaling happily on his cigar, the director leaned across the desk towards the young Japanese detective. "The squad will be at the museum again tonight to guard the crown. I can arrange for you to join them, if it would please you."

Light gave a wearied, though grateful, nod.

"Yes, thankyou. I'd like that very much."

"Very well – I shall simply need to fill out a warrant for you." The director began rummaging in his desk drawer in search of the appropriate papers. "I have heard," he went on, finding them and laying them out before him, taking up a biro, "that L is… what is the word? Elusive?"

"You mean… that nobody has ever seen him?" Light asked carefully.

"Oui, oui, that is what I have heard," the director agreed, busying himself with the warrant. "Never seen him, never met him, nothing at all. Is that true?"

Light faltered; but recovered himself before the French police director looked up at him again.

"Yes," he replied expressionlessly. "That's true."

The Crown Le St. Aubert Bijou glimmered beneath the spotlight of its glass case, the centrepiece of a small room crammed with various other display cases, filled with gleaming historical French jewels and precious metals wrought into necklaces, bracelets, rings, brooches, pins and tiaras.

It was something of a familiar sight – Light recognised it as being similar to the room in which he'd "taken tea" with L in his Japanese hidey-hole.

It was nearing 3:30am. Although thoroughly jetlagged, Light forced himself to stay awake, eyes burning as he absently twirled his gun deftly from one hand to the other. It was nearing 3:30am, and still nothing from L. Light pitied the other members of the French taskforce assigned to the protection of the crown, who'd done this to no avail or joy for two nights previous to this. It was a boring, tiring job, but somebody had to do it, and Light wanted to be that somebody.

No matter how jetlagged, exhausted and bored he was.

At 3:45am, the French detective in charge of the taskforce approached him and laid a hand on his shoulder.

"You seem very tired, my friend," he said in careful French. "No doubt travelling from Japan has wearied you. If you would prefer to return to your hotel—"

"No, no." Light offered the man a strained smile, replying in the best French he could manage. "Thankyou, but I'm fine. I came here to help catch L, and I'm not going to rest until we have him handcuffed in the backseat of a police car."

The detective laughed a little, clapping his shoulder in a comradely fashion.

"As you wish, detective. Perhaps you might like to take a few minutes to freshen up, however. We may very well be here until dawn."

Stifling a yawn at this point, Light found himself giving a nod of agreement.

"Yes, I think that might help." He rubbed at his forehead tiredly. "Alright, I'll be back in a few minutes."

Knowing his luck, L would steal the crown in those few minutes, but, on the verge of collapsing, Light knew he had to go splash some cold water on his face before he keeled over. He left the small display room and went down the corridor to the men's staff bathroom; uttering a low, tired groan as he bent over one of the sinks and cupped his hands beneath the flowing cold tap, splashing it upwards into his face.

"So you did come," he heard that smooth distinctive voice – in Japanese, so alien in France – say. "I'm flattered, Light-kun – or may I call you 'Dupin' for the time being?"

Light whirled; more indignant than surprised to find L standing right behind him, dressed in his usual unseemly white cotton and blue denim.

"No, you may not call me 'Dupin'," Light spat; but his mouth twisted into a smirk even as he spoke. "You just made a very big mistake, L!"

L tilted his head curiously.

"Do you think so?"

"Absolutely." Grinning, Light pulled out his gun from its holster, aiming it right at the middle of L's slender chest. "Now, you're going to come along with me to see my very good friend Detective Expére just down the hall, and we'll have you tucked up nice and cosy in a high-security prison cell by morning. How does that sound?"

"Would you be offended if I said that that doesn't sound as though it would be something I would find particularly to my liking?"

"Not at all. Unfortunately, you don't have a choice in the matter."

L smiled at him.

"You're not going to shoot me, Light-kun."

Light gave a snort.

"I've shot better men than you, L. Now come on, get moving."

"No," L sighed, making a slow and deliberate show of burying his hands into his pockets. "I think I'll stay right here. Your company does so please me, after all, Light-kun."

Light arched an eyebrow in spite of himself.

"Oh? You wanted me to come all the way to France so that we could spend time together in some museum bathroom?"

L smirked dryly.

"While I was hoping we might instead catch up in one of the many lovely little cafés France has to offer, your phrasing, particularly your emphasis on our spending time together in a bathroom, makes my innocent pleasure in your company sound so much more erotic, Light-kun."

Light's smile snapped off.

"Shut up."

L blinked beguilingly at him.

"Did you not appreciate my stealing a kiss from you, then, Light-kun?"

"I told you to shut up!" Light hissed, feeling colour flush into his face as he stepped forwards, jabbing the gun at L, as though to remind him that he was still wielding it. "Get moving unless you want a bullet through your lower spine."

"Light-kun," L said patiently, still not budging, "you're not going to shoot me."

"And what makes you so sure of that, you arrogant son of a bitch?" Light breathed lethally, closing right in on the other man, gun barrel pressed squarely into the centre of his chest.

"Because, if you were going to shoot me, you'd need these." L extracted his right hand from his jeans pocket and opened his palm, letting a whole handful of bullets fall from his clenched fingers and hit the bathroom floor in a symphony of sharp metallic clinks.

Stunned, Light stared at the bullets as they rolled to their respective halts around his feet; and then, his anger welling again, pulled the trigger of his gun, the barrel against L's chest at a range beyond even point-blank.

The weapon simply gave a hollow click.

"Y-you…" Light could barely speak due to his fused shock and fury. "…H-how… how did you…?"

"There, there, Light-kun," L said with a consoling smile, laying a hand on Light's shoulder in a comforting fashion—

Too late Light realised that L had been finding the pressure point on his shoulder; before he could wrench himself away, the master thief had deftly jabbed his bony finger and thumb down into the nerves and Light's vision shuddered like a grainy film before blacking completely, his body slumping limply into L's waiting arms.

Light's shoulder ached when he awoke; he was aware of it even as he blinked away the last lingering drapes of a sleep deep and deliberate. He gave an irritated hiss, rubbing at the sore muscles, as he sat up.

He was on the bed of his French hotel room, fully-clothed right down to his shoes. His suitcase was still open at the foot of the bed, exactly where he'd left it. In fact, everything in the room was exactly as it should be—

Except for the fact that it now had L in it.

The pale man was over at the dresser, examining his reflection before the mirror; or, rather, examining the precise angle at which the Crown Le St. Aubert Bijou sat amongst the dishevelled spikes of his raven hair.

"Oh, Light-kun," L said absently, looking at him in the mirror. "You're finally awake."

"Yeah." Light tried to inject a sense of defiant anger into his voice, but found himself too tired to manage it. Instead he could only look at L hopelessly as the thief tilted the crown a little more to the right. "I see you got the crown, then."

L finally turned to him, crown gleaming and glittering.

"I certainly did. Isn't it lovely?"

"Stunning," Light replied flatly. His chocolate eyes narrowed. "So how did you do it?"

L blinked at him.

"Do what, Light-kun?"

"Oh, don't play dumb!" Light snapped. "Manage to kidnap me and steal the crown, of course!"

"I didn't kidnap you—"

"Yes, yes, you stole me. Whatever you say, you nutjob."

But L shook his head.

"No, that's not true either." He gestured vaguely around the walls. "This is your hotel room, Light-kun. I have returned you to it – therefore you are not truly in my possession, and so I have neither kidnapped nor stolen you."

Light glowered at him.

"Don't change the subject," he bit out. "How did you do it? You didn't have that crown when you met me in the bathroom, and the display room the crown was in was full of French police."

"Hm? Oh, well… if I must let you in on my little secret, the truth is that I actually didn't steal the crown tonight."

"But… but you have…" Light floundered, pointing at the crown that was all-too-obvious in the way that L was flouncing about wearing it.

"Yes, I know." L finally removed the crown from his head, turning it about in his slender hands to admire every angle of it. "I actually stole it three nights ago."

"You can't have!" Light burst out in frustration. "I saw it in the museum! It was in a glass case!"

"No, what you saw in the museum was in fact only a replica of the crown."

"…That you made?"

"No, no. The French museum made it. It's actually a fairly common practice, to make replicas of particularly rare and valuable pieces and artefacts. They act, in a sense, as decoys – usually when they're being transported to loan to other museums."

"And how would you know that?" Light asked icily.

"Because I have fallen for it," L admitted airily. "Last year the Musée de l'Histoire de France lent the crown to the Royal Victoria and Albert Museum in London – it was sent via the Eurotunnel that runs between England and France. I thought I'd stay one step ahead and steal the crown from the train. I found breaking into the vault in which the crown was supposedly kept very easy, and made a very clear getaway with it. Or, at least, what I thought was the crown. Later inspection proved it to be a clever fake of gold-plated metal and coloured glass. But I kept the fake in my possession for use at a later date. There was no point in trying to steal it from the V&A, since the fact that the replica had been stolen made them heighten their security. I still could have stolen it, you understand, but it seemed like a lot of effort for such a trivial thing. I thought I'd wait until the crown returned to France, where I'd switch it with the replica they'd crafted so carefully in its image." L laughed a little now, partly at Light's incredulous expression. "So your little French detective friends have spent three sleepless nights guarding a fake."

Light gave a heavy sigh.

"Ever considered using those magical talents of yours for the forces of good?" he asked jadedly.

L smiled sweetly.

"Is Light-kun trying to imply that I am evil?"

"Shut up."

"Oh, don't sulk, Light-kun. It's not very becoming of you. You look so much prettier when you smile." L offered him the crown. "Would you like to try it on?"

"No thankyou," Light replied frostily. "Why do you have it here, anyway? Are you saying that you actually stopped off at your hideout just so you bring it here to my hotel room to show off how clever you are?"

"Yes and no." L put the crown down on the dresser and came to sit on the edge of the bed. "While I do have a base in France, I am actually staying at this hotel too – I just brought the crown up from my room."

"…Since when are you staying here?"

"Since three days ago. I knew you'd choose this hotel, if you came to France at all, because it's the closest to the Musée de l'Histoire de France."

"You really believed I'd come?"

"I hoped you would."

"Why's that?"

"We're friends, aren't we?" L leaned towards him as he said it.

Light smirked sickeningly.

"Sure."

"Friends because we share a common weariness of the banalities of everyday life?"

"You could say that."

"Friends because we have conversations more interesting than those about coffee, the weather and rising petrol prices?"

"I guess so."

"Friends because we're so alike?"

"Certainly." Light paused. "L, you're too close."

By this point L had moved right the way up the bed, closer with every question, until the final answer he received from Light had left him pinning the young detective against the headboard by his shoulders.

"Do you think so?" L asked after a moment's reflection.

"Yes."

L gave a little sigh, not moving; instead apparently sinking back into deep thought.

"I'm not going to ask you for a kiss, Light-kun," he said at length.

"Good."

"Because I don't ask for things I want."

"So you're just going to kiss me?"

"Yes."

"You wouldn't dare."

"I did last time."

"That's because—"

Perhaps predictably, L interrupted him with the kiss that he, true to his word, hadn't asked for. He'd just hinted that he was going to do it. Very heavily.

So before he could get comfortable, Light bit him.

L made a noise that was something like a high-pitched grunt, certainly one of pain, and pulled away from Light abruptly; keeling back between the younger man's legs and touching his pale fingers to his bottom lip.

He blinked at the blood on them, as though surprised to see it there; then glanced up at Light, who was smirking in petty triumph.

"That was the security alarm," Light said.

"I see." L arched an eyebrow at him, half-amused. "Well, I suppose that approach was a little ill-planned. Luckily for us both I always have a back-up plan."

"Is that right?"

"Of course." L lunged forwards towards him again; Light turned his head aside, but found that that only made the situation much worse for himself:

L had gone for his neck instead; sinking his teeth into the flesh of his throat, not quite breaking the skin, but the pain was sharp enough to make Light seize up beneath him. The young detective grabbed at L, twisted the fabric of his shirt in his hands, trying to gain some leverage to shove him off.

After a long moment, L removed himself on his own, leaning back to glance at Light's neck with an admiring, condescending smile.

"It looks lovely on you," he said at length, still smirking. "It will probably get a bit darker, but it's in such a good place – where everyone can see it."

His expression aghast, still staring right at L, Light clapped his hand to that tingling spot on his throat almost involuntarily.

"You…!" He could barely speak through his fury. "Get out!"

L gave a deep sigh, settling forward so that his upper half rested comfortably on Light's torso.

"Only now you object so highly to my company?" he asked, blinking up at Light.

"I didn't invite you in here!" Light pushed at him. "And don't lie on me like that!"

"Does it make you uncomfortable?"

"Yes!"

L didn't budge.

"Does Light-kun ever concern himself about his sexuality, I wonder?" he mused, more to himself.

"Of course I don't."

"Why is that?"

"Because I'm comfortable with it."

"Comfortable with what?" L asked, his eyes gleaming.

"Being straight, of course."

"Oh, of course. Does Light-kun have a girlfriend?"

"Not… not at the moment. I used to see this girl. She was a model. We broke up a few months ago."

"Why is that?"

"Is that any of your business?!" Light snapped.

"No, I suppose not." L wiped at his mouth, which had begun to bleed again.

"What about you?" Light asked after a long moment's hesitation.

"Hm?" L looked up at him. "What about me?"

"Do you… wonder?"

L shrugged.

"Sometimes. I can't say I've ever come to any kind of satisfactory conclusion, though."

"So… you're…?"

"Straight. Homosexual." L shrugged again. "It's all the same to me." He smirked at Light. "I do think that Light-kun is very attractive, however."

"Yes, I got that impression," Light replied frostily.

"So you'll forgive me if I act upon my attraction," L went on airily, leaning up towards Light again.

"No I won't," Light snapped; L stopped inches from him.

"Well," he considered, "I appear to be in your black books anyway. I don't think one more little "crime" will hurt at this point."

"You still might want to—"

L kissed him again; but now Light was ready for him, pushing him away again almost instantly.

"Stop doing that!" he spat.

"Stop doing what?"

"Interrupting me by kissing me like that!"

"Oh?" L smiled sweetly. "So it's alright to kiss you if I don't interrupt what you're saying?"

"That's… that's not what I meant!"

L was still smiling.

"Light-kun is even prettier when he's indignant."

"I… I don't even…!"

"So are we agreed?" L breathed, leaning right into him. "As long as I don't interrupt, I can kiss you?"

Light's eyes narrowed venomously.

"I'll see you tossed in jail yet, you conniving little thief," he hissed in reply. "Make no mistake about that."

"Are you done talking? Good." L lowered his mouth onto Light's, more gently this time, slower and more deliberate, as though he knew he could now take his time in doing so and was relishing the victory. Light didn't fight him this time, rather resigning himself to it – thought he stiffened defensively when L started to loosen his tie and pluck at the buttons of his shirt.

"What do you think you're doing?"! he demanded.

L gave only a sigh in response.

"Will you fight me all the way on this, Light-kun?" he asked jadedly. "At present I'm finding this more difficult than breaking into a Swiss bank."

"Don't you find that easy?"

"I suppose so, but in contrast to most other banks—"

"Okay, okay, I get it." Light's eyes narrowed. "The point is, what on earth makes you think you can just lure me to France so you can… so you can—?"

"If you knew I was luring you, why did you come?"

"Because you were going to steal that crown!" Light snapped.

"But I had already stolen it."

"How was I meant to know?!"

"You should have foreseen it."

"I don't know how your twisted little mind works, do I?" Light spat defensively.

"Then perhaps," L suggested, going back to working on Light's tie, "you should get to know me a little better, hmm?"

"Maybe I don't want to," Light replied tersely, wrestling his tie from L's grip again.

"Are you afraid?" L asked softly, meeting his gaze.

"Of you?" Light asked snidely.

"Of knowing me better. We are on different sides of the law, after all. Are you afraid of becoming acquainted with a mindset such as mine? Are you afraid that I might… taint you, Light-kun?"

"I'm not afraid of you," Light hissed, shoving roughly at him. "I just don't want you pawing all over me. I know you follow a strict policy of just taking whatever you want, but I'm not playing that game with you, L. I don't give a damn how "pretty" you think I am – you can't have me. I'm not some crown or painting you can steal away from the world so that you can have it all to yourself."

L looked at him in silence for a long moment.

"I suppose you have a point," he replied flatly at length. "And I am certain that Light-kun would not appreciate me forcing myself upon him."

"No, I certainly wouldn't," Light responded icily.

L gave a meditative nod.

"That seems fair," he agreed morosely. "Though I had hoped that the romantic prospect of being in France might make you a little more receptive to my designs."

Light shot him a disgusted look.

"You hoped in vain, you sick little creep," he spat.

"It would appear that way." L gave a sigh and sat back, then got off the bed. "Well, I am sorry to have troubled you, detective. I hope your flight back to Japan is a pleasant one. Au revoir."

He gave Light an elegant sort of half-bow and left the hotel room; Light sank back onto his pillow, throwing an arm over his eyes. Goddamn that pesky little thief – what, did he really think a person was as easily stolen as a priceless vase? Did he really think Light was just going to lie there and take… well, it was obvious what he wanted, so was he really so arrogant as to believe that Light would just throw himself at his feet if he said he was pretty enough times? It only made Light angrier still when he thought that he had travelled all the way to France to help stop the theft of a crown L had already stolen, just because the infatuated sneak-thief wanted into his pants, of all the freaking nerve—

Light gasped and sat bolt upright again, staring at the hotel room door in utter dismay and horror.

He'd let L walk right out of the room.

He scrambled off the bed and almost ran to the door, wrenching it open and leaning out into the hallway.

It was deserted. Now how was he going to find him? He d no idea of his room number, the name he'd booked into the hotel under…

Light gave a moan of frustration, leaning against the door in despair. He'd had L right within his grasp (as much as L would like to have believed that the situation was actually reversed), within handcuffing distance, and he'd been too distracted by rebuking his advances like a cheerleader batting away the football team quarterback with her pom-poms, too concerned with making sure his belt stayed buckled, to capture the world's greatest thief.

To achieve, in layman terms, exactly what he'd come to France to do.

Dimly he heard police sirens wailing in the distance, growing louder with every second; he ducked back into the room, closing the door, and went to the window. He winched it up and leaned out just as three French police cars pulled up outside the hotel entrance.

A grin crept back onto Light's face. Lady Luck was smiling upon him once more. L had obviously slipped up, been caught on security cameras or something whilst taking Light out of the museum, and the French police had tracked him to this hotel. Maybe they'd gotten his real name or other alias from an intelligence database and could find out which room he was in, which was more than Light himself could do at present. He leaned back into the room and shut the window again, catching his smirking reflection in it—

And watching that same smirk slide right off his face as, also in the window's reflection, he saw the Crown Le St. Aubert Bijou glimmering on the dresser.

Still exactly where L had left it.

Deliberately.

He couldn't face turning to look at it; instead only watching it gleam in the distorted reflection of the dark window, stomach sinking but body otherwise barely reacting when he heard the loud, demanding knock at his hotel room door.

L hadn't gotten his own way. He hadn't screwed Light Yagami.

But he'd certainly screwed him over.

So, yeah, like I said… probably one more chapter! Yayz! Oh dear, Light's in trouble now… The French police probably won't look so kindly upon his "generous intentions" now, even if he is innocent.

Which he is. :)

I am sorry if you were expecting sex in this chapter and were thus disappointed. I had planned to put it in but I couldn't make it work – I felt it would seem really OOC for Light to just jump into bed with L, even at this stage. He doesn't like him much so there was really no justification for why he'd sleep with him.

L is just as disappointed as you guys.

We'll (hopefully) get there eventually, though! There is a spark there – Light just hasn't realised it yet!

Thankyou for reading! Hope you liked the new instalment!

RR xXx

P.S: "Crown Le St. Aubert Bijou" doesn't mean anything – or, more precisely, it's very bad French and doesn't make any sense. So don't ask what it means, because I have no clue.