((A/N: The words in bold indicate that the words being spoken in another language. In this chapter, that language is French.))

Four: Agreement

Quillsh had tried desperately to stay awake the entire night while insomniac Lawliet fiddled or did whatever he was doing, but at some point after 2:12 AM, he dozed off. When he awoke, it was because sunlight was streaming into his face from the window opposite his armchair. Lawliet was crouched on the desk, putting the final touches on his microphone, an impressive looking object. He didn't look pleased. "I can't seem to get it to change my voice…" He explained, as if he'd realized his 'helper' was awake. Maybe he had never noticed he'd fallen asleep… He couldn't be sure. In fact, the only thing he was sure of was that the strawberry cheesecake he had made was long gone.

He even licked the crumbs off the platter… Wammy thought with wonder.

Lawliet crouched, staring at the microphone, as if waiting for an idea to sprout out of nowhere. Wammy got up, stretching his old bones, and walked to the machine. "Oh!" He exclaimed, noticing a mismatch of wires. He wasn't sure how he knew, but he figured his inventor's brain had memorized wirings and those sorts of things. "I see your problem…" After a moment or two, Wammy had fixed it.

Lawliet stared blankly at the microphone after testing it, and then looked up at Wammy. "Thank you, Mr. Quillsh Wammy."

"Do you have to call me that?" Quillsh asked, though not unkindly.

"No. Would you prefer me to call you something else?"

"I don't really mind that much, but you may call me whatever you like."

Lawliet paused, thinking, and his eyes actually lit up (though just a little). "You're my accomplice, so you need a pseudonym like me…." He pondered a name for a minute, then smiled. "From now on, when you're with me, you're Watari."

"Watari?"

"It suits you, does it not?" Lawliet asked.

Wammy rolled the word around in his head. "I think it does," He replied, smiling. "What are you calling yourself? Eraldo?" His eyes glimmered jokingly at the ridiculous name he had used the day before.

"L."

"L?"

"L."

"It's awfully simple, isn't it?"

Lawliet grinned like the Cheshire cat. "They won't be able to draw any conclusions from it. I think its complexity is in its simplicity."

"That's a bit contradictory, Lawliet."

The little boy shrugged. "It's human nature to be contradictory. I guarantee you that one day, there will be a person in my life who is a walking contradiction. I wonder when that will be…"

"Delving into murder mysteries may lead you to not live a very long life, Lawliet," He replied, halfway jokingly.

"When the time runs out…" He trailed off, as if forgetting what he was going to say.

"Lawliet?"

"All right then," Lawliet began typing rapidly on the computer, hooked up some wires here and there, and hit the button.

The screen lit up with a large black L.

Through the speakers, he could hear mumbled talking from the police station.

"What is that?" One voice said.

"This is L," Lawliet spoke into the microphone, satisfaction spreading across his features over the fact that it was still functional.

He heard mumbled voices of confusion. They obviously had no idea who 'L' was, as they shouldn't have. After a moment, a voice spoke up.

"Who are you, L?" The voice unpleasantly and suspiciously asked.

"I'm a detective," L replied simply, "and I've taken an interest in solving a murder crime that you seem to be covering up as robbery. I assume you know what I'm talking about, correct?"

Lawliet looked to Wammy as if waiting for his approval. He nodded, though he wasn't really sure why.

"Who do you think you are?!" The response came.

Lawliet sighed but didn't let them hear. "The case when it comes to Mr. Gray and that couple from a few weeks before are connected. I'm assuming they're connected to previous cases I have been uninformed about as well. I'm guessing two, to finish out he aces."

There was a moment of silence. Lawliet had caught them, and they couldn't hide it, even without showing their faces.

"This case interests me," Lawliet continued. "I assume that you're hiding it for some reason, whether it be out of fear or… whatever it is… I honestly don't care why you're trying to hide it because it certainly doesn't matter now. I will assist on solving this case if you will help me in return. Under my eyes, I will find this murderer and bring him to justice. That's all there is to it. I'll give you twenty-four hours to decide. Until then…"

He cut off the transmission and hopped off the desk. "They will assist me." He smirked a little and wandered out of the room.

Quillsh ran a hand over his hair and exhaled. That boy… he sure was something.

-

"Hey, Lawliet," Randall called from the playground. "Come and play with us!"

Lawliet stared and the boy in confusion before slowly sauntering over.

"I don't want to play with him, he's creepy," one of the little girls whispered to Randall. Lawliet wasn't particularly offended.

"What are you playing?" He asked as if saying, if it's not interesting, I'm leaving.

Quillsh watched the boy interacting so terribly awkwardly with the other children. He seemed to have not one bit of interest in what they were talking about. He himself was just waiting for the new arrival.

Right on cue, a black car pulled up in front of the gate. Most of the children paid no mind to it, since they knew all too well that by tomorrow they would have nothing more than a new playmate. Lawliet's attention was caught however when the door opened by the men from child services revealed… a tiny little girl.

She stepped out on her dainty feet, covered by frilly socks and Mary Jane's. She was dressed just like a little doll in a deep burgundy dress with puffed sleeves and a knee-length skirt. There was a white ribbon tied around her waist, and her hair was also tied in white ribbons, mounds of tight crimson curls on each side of her head. Her sea foam eyes were sad, cheeks rosy and covered with freckles…

Lawliet put his thumb in his mouth, observing her little details like the sewing pattern of her dress and the number of her eyelashes, as she was walked inside the gate, not holding either of the men's hands.

Quillsh approached her, putting on a pleasant air. "Why, hello there, little girl," He greeted, kneeling down and extending his hand to her.

She grasped it, but only for a second, then released it and dropped her hand back to the side.

"She doesn't speak English," One of the men said. "Her parents were visiting here from France when their car was hit. She had no living relatives to speak of. Her name is Cosette."

Wammy felt a hand grasp his pant leg and found Lawliet peeking around curiously from behind him. "You do speak French, don't you?" He asked the little girl in French.

She stared at him for a second before saying, "Yes, I speak French…" She sounded positively miserable.

Wammy watched the two of them while he exchanged information with the men, got her files and her luggage, etc. Lawliet seemed fascinated by her. It was odd to see the boy paying attention to any of the other children.

"What is your name?" He asked, leaning forward so he could count her freckles.

She seemed just a bit terrified of him, but she replied, "My name is Cosette. Are you from France?"

"I am Lawliet, and no, I'm not from France. I didn't live too far from here, actually."

The social workers were leaving, and Quillsh turned his full attention to the little French doll and the odd, dark-eyed boy. Because he couldn't speak French very well, he was grateful that Lawliet was there… It seemed the boy had already become a necessity in his life, somehow.

"Lawliet, would you tell her that I'd like to show her to her room now?"

Lawliet looked up as if saying, but I'm not done talking to her. He breathed in through his nose and out through his mouth. "…" He turned back to her. "Mr. Quillsh Wammy would like to show you to your room. Would that be okay?"

She nodded and fell in line right behind Quillsh. She seemed to want to get away from the freaky looking child. She seemed very displeased when Lawliet tagged along behind the both of them, chewing on his finger.

The girl's side of the orphanage was almost identical to the boy's, so Quillsh expected Lawliet to soon lose interest and go wandering off in search of something else to do, but the boy was so completely enamored by this red-headed lolita that he could peel his eyes away from the back of her head. He was probably observing the few little freckles she had in the part of her hair and on the back of her neck.

"This is it," Wammy said kindly as they stopped in front of a room.

"This is your room," Lawliet translated, staring at her from the corner of his eye with his thumb in his mouth.

"Thank you… I am sure I will… manage here."

The way she had said it… Poor little thing. Wammy had seen many a child who felt they would never be happy again after such traumatic events. It seemed Cosette was one of those girls.

"Miss Cosette, I can teach you English if you like," Lawliet offered, seeming to sense her displeasure of her surroundings.

"I… am sure I will manage on my own. I have been studying it for a short time already as it is… I'm fine on my own Mr. Lawliet."

"Well, all right then. If you change your mind, you can come and find me." He shrugged and skulked off down the hallway.

The boy was slow, so even after making sure Cosette had settled into her room, Quillsh was able to catch up with him. "That was odd of you to be associating with other children," He mentioned.

Lawliet was watching the floor, and Wammy noticed his face held a look of utter confusion. "Normally my focus couldn't be roused by other children," Lawliet said quietly, "and yet she had caught my attention. I wonder why… It's something I haven't experienced before… an… unsettling feeling, a stirring emotion. I'd like to delve deeper into this and find out exactly what it is. I suppose I may just be curious."

Well, what do you know. He's got a schoolboy crush. He's human after all, Quillsh thought with amusement, though he would admit he was surprised. He was even more stunned that the crush hadn't immediately dissipated when she had displayed such discontentment toward him like many a boy and girl had done… Then again, Lawliet was obviously not a typical tyke. Quillsh felt it would be hard-pressed to find another child like him in a million years.

Lawliet looked up at Wammy. "You understood all we were saying, correct? You said that you can understand French, but you can't speak it very well?"

"That's right."

"You may need to improve speaking it if you have orphans that speak it."

"Of course, but wouldn't that mean you wouldn't get to translate for me?"

Lawliet seemed to consider that notion and reluctantly said, "You should still learn to speak it more effectively, I think…"

Quillsh smiled. "Yes, of course."

-

By the next morning, Lawliet was focused on the case once more. In fact, he seemed to have buried himself more deeply into his ideas to ignore these curious, rousing feelings he'd acquired all over a little girl.

He logged back into the police's account, and spoke into the microphone. "This is L."

There was uncomfortable mumblings. Wammy was pretty sure the police had been trying to decide whether or not to get L's help over the entire 24-hour period. He wondered if they even went home that night.

Finally a voice that Wammy had recognized as the chief's spoke up. "We don't know if we can trust you. We don't even know your face."

"I don't reveal my face simply for my own safety," Lawliet replied, "but it matters not, since I'm not asking you to trust me really. I wish to assist on the case. You can care to try and investigate me too if you like."

Another moment of mumblings, and the chief very begrudgingly spoke up. "We do not trust you… but… assistance is needed… If you can guarantee the safety of my fellow officers, then we'll accept your help."

Lawliet's eyes widened. "A police officer shouldn't be in their profession if they're not willing to be harmed or possibly maimed, but I'll do whatever's in my power." Wammy could tell, probably by the fact that Lawliet looked completely bored, that he wasn't intending to do anything to help them unless it was beneficial to the case. "Anyway, could you put together the files you have prepared? I need the information on all of the killings. Have them waiting with a reliable officer at the front of the police station at 12:45 in the afternoon. I'm sending my man to come and retrieve them. If they're not there, I understand this as declining my assistance. That is all."

He shut off the communication and turned to Wammy. "Watari, I trust you have a long coat and a hat of some sort, right? They mustn't recognize you."

"So, I'm your 'man', am I?" Wammy asked, though he couldn't deny he was enjoying himself. This was far more interesting than reading and rereading paperwork for the rest of his life. This boy was, if anything, satiating his need for something interesting, though he did not understand him exactly.

Lawliet grinned. "When you agreed to the nickname, you agreed to that."