"Are you sure this is such a great idea?" The man asked again, earning a long and wearisome sigh from me. "I mean, it's the Kira investigation."

We'd been having the same conversation for over fifteen minutes now. Each argument I made ended up backfiring in my face and we somehow came back to this very same question.

"Your point is, Chris?" I said irritably, pinching the bridge of my nose between two fingers.

"It's suicidal." He said firmly. "Joining this task force is asking to be killed. You do realise that, right?"

Rolling my eyes, I groaned, stretching my arms over my head. "Stop stressing, Chris. You'll give yourself wrinkles."

Not amused by my sense of humour, Chris grumbled something unintelligible - probably cussing or damning me to an eternity in Hell if I had to hazard a guess. Sitting up on the bed, I placed the phone to my ear and spoke in a softer tone. "Hey, I don't even know if I'm going to be accepted onto the case yet, so we shouldn't even bother arguing over it."

"You'd better be accepted." Chris declared, his voice raising. "I went through Hell and back to arrange this for you. L isn't an easy guy to track down, never mind communicate with."

I frowned. "You actually spoke to him?"

"Not directly." Chris replied with a hint of disappointment. "His caterer sorted everything out. Some guy called Watari, I think."

I hummed in understanding, taking a mental note of that information. The conversation trailed off by that point and there was silence at both ends of the line. Sensing that Chris was still unenthusiastic about the whole Kira thing, I added, "Hey, if I am accepted, you have to remember that this is my decision to make - as an adult."

No response. Clearly reassurance wasn't going to work.

"You know, you don't have to join if you're so worried."

This didn't seem to work either, judging by the groan that followed. "I'm not worried about myself, Agent. I'm worried for you. You're too headstrong; too confident. This isn't a typical murder case. You really don't know what you're getting yourself into."

"Ah, but that is where you are wrong, my friend." I said with a smirk, toying with a strand of my hair.

There was a pause and I could practically see Chris' eyes narrowing. "What've you done now, Agent?"

I hummed quietly, glancing towards the laptop stuffed in my bag. "Just a little research."

"You've been hacking again, haven't you?"

Busted.

"Well, I wouldn't call it hacking." I said in an innocent tone. "I'd say something more along the lines of using my assets to my advantage."

He wasn't surprised. I'd done this far too often.

"What was it this time? Police files? Classified government reports? The secrets of the universe?" He joked, though his tone was completely humourless.

My lips widening, I chuckled. "Maybe all three."

He sighed deeply. "This asset of yours is going to land you in jail one day."

"And you'll be right there beside me." I said with a small grin before my attention was caught by the clock. "Oh, I gotta go. I'll call you afterwards and tell you how it went."

"Don't bother." He said quickly, stopping me before I could end the call. "I'll come and pick you up; it saves you walking back. Just give me a time."

I thought for a moment, judging how long this conversation would likely last and doing the math in my head. "Around half six. Give or take. I doubt we'll talk for long."

"Alright, I'll see you then. Good luck, you suicidal maniac."

I scoffed, shaking my head as I laughed. "Whatever."

To be honest, I had more than enough time to get to the hotel - even if I walked with a snail's pace. I just preferred to be there early so I could make a good first impression. Punctuality is key, followed by personal presentation.

As that thought crossed my mind, I turned and eyed myself in the mirror. White blouse, plain black jeans with a black overcoat buttoned halfway. Formal enough, right? Or did it make me look like I was trying too hard? Would he be able to tell that I literally went out of my way and bought this specifically to make a good first impression? No, he can't be that good.

With one last look towards my dolled-up reflection, I grabbed my room key, slung my bad over my shoulder, and exited the room. Making my way downstairs and through the hotel lobby, I zipped up my jacket as I pushed open the double doors that led to the outside. The autumn air was chilly and I pulled my collar up to my chin in an attempt to block out the gusts of wind as I walked along the barren streets, shivering as I went. Heading in the direction of the address I was given, I pondered to myself. What would he be like? Would he be tall and intimidating? Or awkward and shy? And what would his appearance be?

My imagination quickly cooked up an idea and I surmised that he'd be middle aged; tall; more on the skinny side. He'd have dark eyes and dark hair with a deerstalker atop his head and a smoking pipe stuffed between his lips and-

I stopped and chuckled to myself, realising that I was basically envisioning Sherlock Holmes. Well, I suppose that wouldn't be wrong. L was essentially the modern day incarnation of the fictional detective. He was insanely intelligent from what I'd heard. Always estimating, always analysing. Some kids at St Mary's joked that instead of a brain, he had a computer chip in his head. No case has been able to stump him - not a single one! As a detective myself, he was an inspiration and I strived to be like him, although I doubt I'd ever get to the point where I'd be considered his equal in terms of mental ability. Given, I was above average but L was like an all-seeing, all-knowing God. Very few could live up to his standards.

Only ten minutes had passed when I reached the hotel, no surprise thanks to my huge strides and active pace. I stepped through the sliding doors and made my way to the elevators nearby, shrugging off the cold and embracing the warmth of the indoors. I called for an lift and tapped my foot as I waited, taking a quick glance at my surroundings and raising an impressed brow.

It was quite a nice hotel by the looks of things, undoubtedly much more expensive than the cheap two-star 'pathetic excuse for a hotel' I'd paid for. Not to mention, L's room was on one of the highest floors, indicating that it's likely to be a suite. Lucky sod. How much money does he have in his pockets exactly?

A loud ding from my right informed me that an elevator had finally made its way back down to the ground level and I entered it. Fortunately for me, no one else got on whilst I journeyed up so I wasn't forced to awkwardly converse with a stranger. Instead, I was stuck waiting with the cliche elevator music repeating itself over and over, irritating me terribly. Upon reaching the designated level, the elevator doors opened and I stepped out, heading to my right. Steadily, I walked down the corridor, seeing the room numbers increase one by one until I came to a halt in front of L's door. By this point, the nerves had begun to set in and I shied away, taking a few steps back.

Calm down, girl! The worst he can do is say no. It's not like he's going to laugh and slam the door in your face - unless he's an asshole, that is. Get a grip. Taking a deep breath, I composed myself and shook away all anxious thoughts. I raised my right hand to the door and knocked three times, politely waiting for a response.

"It's open. Please, let yourself in." A muffled voice said from the other side of the door, making me frown. Damn, that's rude! Don't have enough energy to answer the door, do we? At least he had the courtesy to say please.

Giving my outfit one last brush down, I hesitantly opened the door and stepped inside, my chest clenching with nerves. I felt as though I was meeting my favourite celebrity, only there'd probably be less screaming and more interview-esque dialogue.

Shutting the door behind me with a light click, I turned and saw a young man (way younger than I had expected) stood by the window, gazing out over the city. My jaw dropped but I quickly caught myself, eyes widening instead. Running my eyes up and down his form, my disbelief only grew.

He was average height, slouched over with his shoulders in a hunched position - which really made me wonder if he had a bad case of scoliosis or if he just didn't give two hoots about posture. He had dark, unkept hair and was wearing a baggy, slightly greyed shirt that hung off his lithe figure. Beneath that was a pair of light blue jeans and, much to my confusion, no shoes. He looked like your typical rebellious teenager. This was the world's greatest detective? Was this a joke?

Shaking off the initial shock, I regained my confident stance and coughed lightly to grab his attention. He turned round to face me and, impolite and unnerving as it was, I couldn't help but stare.

I don't know whether I should be more concerned about the way his spine bends or the fact that the bags under his eyes are arguably darker than the majority of black eyeshadows. What was he? An insomniac?

"Can you please leave your cell phone on the table. I find them rather distracting." He spoke, gesturing towards the table.

I blinked once or twice before coming to my senses and shrugging. "Sure."

Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I made sure it was on silent mode before placing it on the table and following the detective into the next room. He placed himself on a chair - in a very uncomfortable looking position, may I add - and began preparing himself a very sugary cup of coffee. I stood there, my discomfort seeming hugely obvious, as he placed cube after cube of sugar into the mug.

Okay? Well, that's an excellent way to stay skinny and healthy. Maybe I should take tips.

After a few minutes of awful silence followed by an impatient sigh from yours truly, L finally glanced up and acknowledged me.

"You can sit down, you know."

I resisted the strong urge to scoff. Here I was, trying my darnedest to be polite and putting on my best goody two shoes impression. He really should considered himself lucky. It's not in my nature to be so generously humble.

I strode over to the chair opposite him and placed myself in it; sliding my coat off and draping it over the arm. Reclining back a slight tad, I gave the room a brief look over before fixating my eyes on the man sat before me. Without intending to, I began staring again, trying to convince myself that I was seeing things. This couldn't be the real L, could it? Maybe this was just a weird prank and the real L would jump up behind my chair before screaming boo in my face. Honestly, I doubt I'd even be phased if that actually did happen. By this point, I was seriously questioning whether I'd walked into a hotel suite or a madhouse.

"Is there something on my face?" The detective asked after a few moments had passed, making me realise that I'd been caught out.

Fuck, my bad! This is the exact reason why people shouldn't allow themselves to zone out while looking at someone. It just gets so weird when they finally notice you.

Trying to feign innocence, I blinked in surprise before smiling slightly. "No. Why?" I asked, playing dumb.

"The fact you've been staring at me for the past twenty eight seconds makes me think I either have something on my face or you're assessing my appearance - which I suppose shouldn't be too surprising. According to my research, you're a fellow detective."

I blanked. Come again? Research?

The nerve of this guy! Before we'd even met, he'd started to get the goods on me. Unfair

I shuffled on my seat and crossed my arms, trying my hardest not to appear fazed. "That's right."

He stared at me, almost as though he was judging me. It put me off.

"You don't like the fact I've been investigating you." He stated simply.

I felt my eye twitch. This guy was good.

"What makes you think that?" I asked, trying to act calm even though I was inwardly raging.

He took a sip from his coffee. "Well, anyone with a average mental mindset would be at least mildly offended to learn they've been investigated without their knowledge and/or consent. But there's something more to it, isn't there?"

I swallowed whatever saliva was left in my dry mouth. Damn. He can read me like a book. Well, fine. If he wants to play it this way, we can play it this way. Sighing in defeat, I looked away, slouching back into my seat. "Due to the fact that I'm a private investigator like yourself, there should be no trace of me on an internet database - or just any database for that matter."

He eyed me. "Including the database of the orphanage in which you grew up in?"

My eyes widened a fraction. Scratch that, my eyes widened a lot.

"How the hell do you know about that?!" I yelled, completely disregarding the polite approach.

How far back did he research? Better yet, how did he even know I was there? I had no name for him to look up and he didn't know what I looked like beforehand. The only way he could possibly know me was if he was in touch with someone at the orphanage.

My eyes narrowed.

Oh, that sly bastard...

"You appear to have just come to a conclusion, am I correct?" He said, looking up at me as I glared icily down at him.

"You lived in that other orphanage. Your benefactors told you who I was." I rightly assumed, raising my chin defensively.

"You're only half correct. I did, in fact, live in one of the homes in England. But it wasn't my benefactors who informed me of your identity. That I researched on my own."

If I had no self control, I would've gaped. But, eager to keep my composure, I glued my mouth firmly shut.

"Before you ask how I achieved that, I'd just like you to think back to the last case you worked on in the US." He murmured to me as he opened up a laptop that was seated on the coffee table before us.

Oh, he's talking about the *Los Angeles BB serial murders. But how would he know I worked on that case?

I thought for a few seconds before sighing at my utter idiocy

"You've got to be kidding me." I murmured, shaking my head in disbelief. "You were the head of that case, weren't you?"

I was never informed of the other people who were working on that case. In fact, I was asked by the orphanage to work secretly, on my own, and hand in my research as an anonymous tip (to be fair, I usually worked behind the scenes on most cases anyways and only ever acted upfront with explicit permission from whoever was leading the investigation). Reluctantly, I did as they asked but I never learned who the head of that case was. Back then, I didn't really care. As long as I could do my job, whoever was leading the investigation could remain as a mystery to me, by all means.

Screw those guys! They knew he was leading it the whole time. They could've thought to at least tell me; I wouldn't be feeling so embarrassed now.

"Correct. I see your deductive skills really are as impressive as they say. Your reputation truly does precede you." He said as he glanced down at his computer screen, something that usually would've my chest swell with pride but right now, all I could feel was my brow ticking and the veins in my neck popping out one by one. "I'm sure that you are still confused as to how I found you from that specific circumstance, but I'll get to that. By the way, I greatly appreciate the sources you sent in. They were a considerate help."

I withheld the urge to roll my eyes.

"You're welcome. But even so, how did you figure out that was me? I remained anonymous, if I remember rightly." I argued, bewilderment still clouding my features.

"And the fact you remained anonymous gave me even more of a reason to investigate you. You see, most anonymous tips do little to nothing to help the case at hand, mainly being some sort of hoax or a false piece of information. But your tip helped the investigation to progress greatly. You noticed a significant detail that even I missed." He told me, watching my reaction as he picked the coffee cup back up from the table, sipping loudly from it.

Really? Well, that's going on my mental wall of achievement. Honestly, I would be proud if I wasn't so peeved.

"Because of that fact, I gained an interest in you. It took me a while but with help from my connections, I traced you back to the St Mary's orphanage in New York - where you lived from the age of eleven to sixteen before leaving with another individual. I asked if I could have your files and they gave it to me. I learnt some very interesting information from that." He continued, seemingly ignorant to my rapidly reddening face.

This guy was breaking every single boundary right now. I was told by my benefactors that I could never be found by anyone. Period. Clearly that was a lie.

"So, you have information on me." I said quietly, more to myself than him. "Alright. Fair dues. So what?"

He placed his coffee cup back down on the table and faced me, his face suddenly much more serious than before.

"I want your help on this case." He replied, sending a tidal wave of what the fuck flowing through me.

That was fast. And unexpected.

"Woah, hang on! We haven't even discussed the terms yet and already you've decided you want me on the case?" I echoed, making sure I didn't mishear him, my confusion growing.

"Yes." He answered bluntly, not giving me the blessing of an explanation like I wanted.

Seriously, was I imagining things? I'd barely been in the room a half hour. We hadn't discussed anything of importance and he still wanted me to join this investigation. Logically, that makes no sense. Ugh. My mind refused to process the last several minutes I had spent in this room. Everything was so damn bewildering. I'd definitely walked into a madhouse.

"Why?" I asked.

"Because I believe that you are immune."

At that moment, I frowned and sat up a little straighter, a very puzzled expression plastered on my face. "Okay, no offence, but what the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

He slumped back over to his computer and gestured for me to come over to him. I did so and, lo and behold, my private documents were presented before me; ugly mugshot and all. I was going to have a very serious talk with the orphanage when I'm finished with this case, that I swear. They had no absolutely right to divulge my personal information to strangers - especially without my consent.

"From what your records told me, it appears as though you have been given no birth name. Am I wrong?"

I shook my head in the negative to answer his question and he carried on. "Kira needs a face to kill. We know that much from the news broadcast in which Lind L Tailor was killed. However, further research has led me to believe that he also requires a name to kill his victims. One of those, you do not have, therefore he cannot kill you. It's impossible."

Well, would you look at that? My luck is beginning to turn! But hang on a minute.

"So what you're saying is you're going to use me as bait because I can't be killed?" I asked with a cock of my head, feeling slightly ticked off.

He shook his head. "Not necessarily. You'd be still treated as a member of the task force but if required, you may be used more upfront. The rest of us cannot do this because, from my estimates, there's still a high 85% chance we'd be killed - and that's at a minimum."

Sighing, I placed my thumb and forefinger on the bridge of my nose and thought deeply about the circumstances.

If I took on this case, I'd be putting myself in physical danger. Whether I can't be killed by this Kira or not, I can still be killed as easily as any other human being if the situation came to it. And if I refused... Well, nothing would happen, I suppose. Life would go on as it always did. Slowly. Boringly. Always repeating the same old thing. Get given a case, work on it, save the day and move on.

I decided that I didn't want that.

"Alright. I accept." I said, looking back up and nodding curtly.

He side glanced over to me, seemingly pleased by my acceptance, before getting back up to his feet and heading over to the window again.

"Good. The meetings will be held here unless I change location, which I will be doing regularly." He explained.

I nodded, pursing my lips. "Understandable."

He continued. "I will contact you in a few days with the time of when you will meet the task force and can officially begin work on this case. I assume you've already began conducting your own research."

I nodded slowly. "Yes, but I doubt I've gotten much further than you. I had limited sources and therefore-"

"Do these 'limited' sources include the Japanese police force's documents on this case?" He cut me off rudely.

Instead of pulling my typical aghast expression like I would've five minutes ago, I simply raised my eyebrows in question. To be honest, I partly expecting him to know I hacked into the files and stole the documents. The rumour is true - L knows everything.

"St Mary's orphanage did commend you on your exceptional hacking skills." He clarified, eyes lighting up as he watched my expression darken.

I sighed. What ever happened to confidentiality?

Despite the accuracy in his response, I chose to argue, a rather obvious fake smile tugging at my lips. "That doesn't necessarily mean I hacked into the police's classified documents, now does it? That would be illegal."

He knew I was toying with him. Let's face it, I was up against the human lie detector here. I'd been in the room with him for less than an hour and already he'd disclosed half of my life story. What was the point of lying?

"That may be, but do you actually care for the law? From what I read, I learned that you once lived on the streets. I can imagine that's a hard life. You probably had to make hasty decisions. Perhaps decisions you now regret?"

My mind came to a screeching halt as I processed what I had just heard. Did he seriously just use that card against me? Now that was plain cruel. Collecting myself before I actually lashed out and hurt somebody, I took deep, steady breaths and made eye contact.

"I'm going to request that you don't bring that up again. Please. I'm trying very hard to forget what I did back then. But to answer your question - no, I don't really care for the law system, despite my work as a detective. I'll do whatever it takes to solve a case, including breaking the law if it benefits me. So yes, you're right. I did hack into the files and yes, I downloaded them onto my computer to analyse. So, now what? Are you going to arrest me for breaking the law?" I spat sharply, my smile long gone.

L shook his head as he gazed over the city landscape. "No, I won't arrest you. I too have done things like that in the past."

"What? Seriously? You're saying that you have broken the law to complete a case?"

"I try not to but, on the odd occasion, yes. If the circumstance becomes too drastic." L replied. "Though I doubt my experience in hacking security systems will be as in depth as yours."

Alright then. He's a fellow hacker. This was fine by me. I was starting to wonder how it's possible for someone to be that good. I mean, come on, he has intelligence, good morals, general civility, decent looks. He's literally the definition of a perfect human (beside the fact that he's as blunt as a butter knife and has no regard for privacy).

Impressed by this revelation, I nodded slowly and lowered my eyes to faced the floor, our conversation hitting a somewhat dead end. Do I bring up a new topic or does he?

"May I ask you a question?" He spoke softly, answering my own question for me.

My gaze snapped back up and, after a brief pause, I shrugged both shoulders.

"Sure." I said while nodding, looking at his eyes through the reflection of the window. "Go ahead."

His gaze never leaving mine, he asked. "Why do you wish to work on this case? Even if you are protected from Kira, there is still a high chance you could be killed - or those closest to you could be killed. I hear you have a friend not much older than myself, the individual you left St Mary's with. Is this case worth his life?"

Realisation hitting me like a brick wall, I hesitantly opened my mouth to respond but nothing but empty air came out. Was this case really worth Chris' life? Honestly, was it? A short burst of sheer excitement in exchange for my closest companion? He didn't even want to join this case.

Thinking hard on my reply, I chose my words carefully.

"Both he and I are detectives." I began to explain, referring to Chris as I spoke. "We know our jobs are dangerous but we still take the risk. In all honesty, any career choice has some sort of hazard to it, some are just more dangerous than others. We both accepted the fact that there's a possibility we could be killed by doing what we do and, to be truthful, we don't care. I love this line of work and so does he."

L stared at me, his dark eyes reflecting off the glass and blending into the city skyline. I waited for his reply - which would probably be some sort of overly logical bullshit - but it never came. He placed his thumb to rest on his lower lip and lowered his head in thought. Feeling mildly uncomfortable, I decided to speak up.

"I don't want to sound rude but it's getting kinda late and my friend is probably having a panic attack somewhere because I'm still not back yet." I chuckled as I scratched the back of my head awkwardly.

He turned around to stare at me some more before speaking again. "Yes, you're free to go. Just be aware that I'll be calling you sometime this week with the place and time of the next meeting with the task force."

Frowning, I was about to mention that he doesn't have my phone number but then I realised those bastards back home probably gave it to him. Seriously, I was going to have an intent conversation with that lot. Very intent. Many choice words will be spoken and threats of abandonment will most likely be made.

Nodding my head in the affirmative, I grinned and began to lead myself out, picking up my cell along the way. Just as I opened the door, L's voice stopped me.

"By the way, what are we to call you?" He inquired, looking over to me as he spoke. "I'm sure we'll all find it difficult to converse if we're unsure of how to refer to you."

Tilting my head to look back at him, I chuckled inwardly. I was far too used to saying this line.

"You can just call me what everyone else calls me - Agent." I replied with a smile, a vague sense of pride bubbling up inside me.

He threw me a bemused look but nodded nonetheless. I bowed my head as a sign of departure and briskly walked out of the room, shutting the door behind me. Letting out a long sigh of relief, I slumped myself against the hotel wall and calmed my racing heart. Well, I'm glad that ride was over!

That was the most intense meeting I've ever had in my life. Despite his odd appearance and whimsical behaviour, L's actually quite scary. Throughout the whole thing, his eyes kept looking at me - not in the sense that he was maintaining eye contact, but as though I was some kind of puzzle meant to be figured out. I've never met anyone so cryptic before. I don't know if I should feel intimidated or intrigued. Perhaps both?

Pulling myself back to my feet, I took one last look at L's room before heading back in the direction of the elevators and where I knew Chris would be waiting for me outside. As I stepped back out of the hotel, I noticed how dark it had gotten and wondered just how long L and I actually spoke for.

A loud car horn snapped me back to my thoughts and my head whipped towards the source of the noise - a grey Lexus with a very angry looking blonde inside. Trying not to laugh at his expression, I walked over to the vehicle and flashed Chris a smile.

"That was really fucking quick!" He cried as I slid into the seat beside him, buckling my seatbelt. "Half six, you said."

Rolling my eyes, I smirked. "Shut your blabbering mouth for a minute; I got good news!"

"What?" He said irritably after being interrupted.

Smiling brightly to myself, I turned to face him. "I'm on the case!"

A/N

* Look it up. It's a side story in Death Note. I won't spoil but it is absolutely amazing! And, yes, it is mentioned in the anime; it's the case that Naomi Misora worked on under L.

Alright, we're straight off with this, diving headfirst into the action. No messing around. Yeah, I know, this was a pretty dull chapter but we're getting into the actual storyline next chapter - which will be good I hope.

Anyway, this story is already on WattPad and I'm actually quite far into the story on there, but I'm in the process of re-editing and improving those chapters, this one included actually. Yep, this will be the first place that I publish my revised story. I hope you enjoy it :)