They say I'm goin' crazy
They say I got a lot of water in my brain
Got no common sense
I got nobody left to believe

- 'Somebody To Love' by Queen

There were three choices so far, and to be honest, Watari was astonished there had even been that many matching the criteria that he and his charge had set out: that the woman who acquiesced to becoming a surrogate mother must be intelligent, dignified, with strong moral convictions, and preferably in law enforcement. Secretly, L was hoping for an attractive choice, but he wasn't getting his hopes up yet.

That night, there was to be a police ball held in London as a celebration of a successful year for the Metropolitan police. Many, many people would be there, including all three of the women that they had discovered. The first was a hardened officer by the name of Jackie Meryton. She was twenty-nine years old and had turned in her own brother because he had admitted to possession of a large amount of cocaine. Seeing a photograph of her, L immediately thought of a bull. This did not bode well.

Secondly, there was a newly sworn-in force control room operator by the name of Connie Beckman, who dealt with emergency calls to the police. She was being honored for her fantastically calm head as she had managed a hostage situation so well that nobody at all was hurt, including the aggressor. She was young, at twenty-three, and showed a brilliant amount of promise for someone so inexperienced. She was the favorite at that moment, considering her youth and pretty face.

Finally, there was the twenty-five-year-old lawyer training to be a barrister, Phyllis Ruth. Plenty of times she had been at the bar, watching as criminals L had found were convicted of their crimes. She was reasonably attractive, there was no lying to be done there. Her cheekbones were prominent and her green eyes sharp, but she had an air of glamour and elegance about her that only a professional could maintain, even in a photograph.

Dressing up felt wrong, so all L did – despite the chiding he received from Watari – was put a black jacket over his usual white shirt and jeans. He had been invited on behalf of the great detective L, though no one at the gathering was likely to know who this enigma was. Even with the police he kept a low profile, only revealing his existence to those with the highest ranking.

The party was in full swing when he arrived, slinking his way through the crowds searching for those who he had picked out. "Look like a professional," Watari had warned. He remembered what he had put in his jeans pocket earlier, and removed a pair of glasses. They had thick black frames, and may well have not had any glass in them for what use he had of them.

He felt a hand clap him on the back and cleared his throat. A massive, moustache-bearing gentleman with a few medals pinned to his chest was looking down at him. He was pretty sure he hadn't met the man before.

"Don't slouch so, lad!" he chastised. "You should be proud to be part of this team!" He completed a grand sweeping gesture of the room. "Look at this place! It's packed full of credits to Her Majesty!"

"Indeed, sir. Excuse me, I'm afraid I'm looking for somebody-"

"Ah, I understand! Young love… but don't be so shy, dear boy!" He slapped L on the back hard again. L grunted with the pain of it. "You are a part of a major operation, a proud nation's police force!"

"I beg your pardon," L muttered, slipping away and seeking one of the three women in amongst the crowds.

The first one he spotted was Jackie Meryton, the officer. She was hanging around the bar with a series of men who must have also been members of the police force, and not lawyers or any such professions. She, unlike most other women, was wearing an ivory-colored pant-suit. Her mouse-brown hair was shorn short and spiky, and she was laughing raucously with the others.

"Constable Jackie Meryton?" he started. Jackie, plus all of the other men, turned to stare at him. "My name is Ryuzaki. I would appreciate a word in private."

"Nothing you have to say to me can't be said in the presence of my pals here, right?" she grumbled. "I'm not going anywhere with someone I don't know."

"No, really, I think it should be in private." He was beginning to sound desperate now, receiving curious glances.

"If you got a problem with me, mate, you can fuck off and leave me alone," Jackie spat. "I could knock you flying with one punch. You got that?"

L nodded slowly. "Figures."

"What?" she barked. "What the hell are you implying? Look, I don't know who you think you are, but I think you're a weasel! A slimy little worm, talking to a woman like that!"

God, women were sensitive. Did they all read into things that much? He had believed he could understand women just like he understood men. This wasn't supposed to be happening!

"You misunderstand-"

"I misunderstand?" she snapped. "I don't think so, pal! You seem just like the panty-thief type, and I don't like the look of you, so clear off before I make you!"

"Seriously-? Ow!" He practically went soaring back into the crowd with the force of the punch Jackie Meryton had used on him. He could feel blood welling up in his nostrils. "Christ," he muttered. "That was not a woman…"

He bumped into someone, and when he swiveled around to apologize in an angry undertone, he realized who it was he had bumped into. Phyllis Ruth, the auburn-haired lawyer four years his senior. In one hand she held a glittering pink cocktail and in the other was a sparkly green purse. She wore an emerald silk dress and looked down at him with pursed red lips.

"Watch where you're going," she sighed.

"Wait, wait," he insisted. "You're Phyllis, right?"

"Who's asking?" she said, frowning.

"My name is Ryuzaki," he began. Good, this was a start. She didn't look like she wanted to beat the shit out of him. "I heard about you and I was wondering if maybe you and I could-"

She threw back her head and laughed. "Really?" she sneered. "You think you're even halfway into my league? You're crazy. I can do way better than you."

Uh… what? "Hang on a second-"

"I have a guy waiting over there who's been drooling over me since I started working in the same office," she boasted. "And he's cuter than you by miles. So hell no, I am not going back to your place."

She set off in the direction of the bar. That was a rejection if there ever was one. All he had wanted to request was a talk, and then see where they would go from there in terms of say, a contract. Now what? His chances of finding a decent surrogate mother were decimating rapidly by the minute. The only one he had left to speak to was the FCR operator, Connie Beckman.

Connie Beckman had been his preference all along. She was closer to his age, therefore attractive in a manner that did not feel like she was being a cougar… though technically, she was, as she was twenty-three and he twenty-one years of age. Her hair was dyed platinum-blonde, and she had a petite figure. Her eyes were bright blue.

L seemed to be on the receiving end of very puzzled looks. The word of his unsuccessful endeavors to maintain a conversation with both Jackie Meryton (Jackie fucking Meryton, of all people, who probably had never had an offer of a date before), and the fantastically glamorous Phyllis Ruth (Phyllis? How old-fashioned was that? Nobody called their kids Phyllis anymore without making them a target for habitual bullying).

He wanted to call Watari and tell him that this whole venture was a complete waste of time and he would rather just choose a successor than deal with this kind of mind-fucking stress. He had always assumed that since males and females were both human, they may think the same way. It turned out that women were a much more unforgiving species, ones who demanded wooing and pleasantries before they even considered initiating conversation with you.

He spotted Connie Beckman after he had splashed his face with cold water in the men's bathrooms. She was dancing. Okay, what she was doing was capturing the attention of every single red-blooded man in the room. It wasn't a wonderfully sensual thing or even sexy. The way in which she moved looked kind of… well, desperate. 'Look at me!' it shouted. 'I'm over here!'

Still. No judgment to be passed as of yet. L tapped her on the shoulder and when she saw him, her eyes widened in surprise. She clearly hadn't been expecting the geek chic look from the person who stopped her dancing. Maybe tall, stocky and muscular.

"Connie Beckman, yes?" he clarified.

"That's right," she beamed. "I'm Connie. What's your name?"

"Ryuzaki," he explained. Phew. So far, so good. She was keeping the conversation going without too much effort on his part. She was interested in him. This was going better than both Jackie Meryton and Phyllis Ruth.

"Oh my God, that's, like, Japanese," she squealed. "That's so cool! My BFF Allie, she was always like, 'I TTLY wanna date an Asian guy', and I could never understand it, but OMG, that's, like, so kawaii. You're total bishie material."

L blinked. What had just happened? "I must confess I have no idea what at least half of what you just said actually means."

"Aw! That's adorable!"

Her voice, despite only hearing it for a few minutes, was already beginning to grate on his nerves. Was this the voice of somebody who had stopped a hostage situation with no innocent casualties? Where was the intelligence? Where was the dignity in it all? She was speaking a completely foreign language, and he knew a fair number of those anyway. Had the guilty one in the hostage situation shot himself so as not to hear the negotiator anymore?

"So, what was it you wanted to ask me?" she smiled brightly.

"Oh, sorry, I think I have the wrong person. Are you Connie Peckman?" he asked hastily.

"Peckman?" She looked crestfallen. "No, no. I'm Beckman."

"Sorry again, I'm looking for Constance Peckman," he lied. "Sorry for the confusion."

"Oh…" she mumbled. "See you."

Eek. That had been one seriously close shave. A girl that enthusiastic had to be rejected, not be the one to reject him. Just her optimism and eagerness made him uncomfortable. Would he want a child of his to be so incessantly happy? No, it was creepy, and he was eighty-seven percent certain everybody else in that room had found a tiny bit creepy too. He went into the lobby of the hotel that the ball was being held in. He was delving into his pocket for his cell phone faster than someone could say 'hi'.

It was a few rings before Watari answered the phone. "Hello, L. How is everything going down at the party?"

"Get. Me. Out. Now," he said distinctly through gritted teeth.

There was a pause. "I take it not a success then?"

"You assume correctly."

"But all of them? All three said no to your proposition that quickly? You can only have been there about forty-five minutes at most," he protested.

"Two denied me, the other I denied," he said. "I refuse to have any child of mine using words such as, 'kawaii', or utilizing so many acronyms it's like being in a police station every day. Watari, what does 'bishie' even mean? Where do these words come from?"

"I'm coming to get you in five minutes. Wait out front and don't get attacked by enraged feminists."

It seems the pilot chapter isn't as unpopular as I thought it would be, so I decided to post this one, still seeing how it goes.

Yes, as you can tell, the chapters are named after Queen songs.

Please review and I'll get back to you as soon as I can if you have any questions!

C.