Chapter 4: 4

How could I have ever been impressed by this man? Light watched as L attempted to fit an entire crepe into his mouth, piled high with an unholy amount of chocolate sauce, whipped cream, strawberries, cherries and ice cream. Light looked down at his oatmeal, disgusted. L glanced occasionally at Light's watch. I've never worn a watch…seems useful in retrospect, after watching Light. Along with the mess in the kitchen, L left a note for Watari on his plate with his finger to buy him a watch. He licked the syrup off his finger and looked at his message, pleased.

They walked into the work room, one minute and twenty seconds early by Light's watch. Soichiro was already there, clearly nervous about his son's well-being after a night with the insomniac.

"Are you okay? How was your, uh…did you sleep well?"

"It was fine, Dad. We played chess."

Light smiled easily and leaned ever so slightly towards L to suggest with his body language a newfound camaraderie with him. Soichiro visibly relaxed, and L wondered again at Light's ability to put people at ease with his masks. L watched, carefully analyzing Light's expression. He decided to conduct an experiment. As Matsuda walked in, L attempted a reassuring smile. Matsuda recoiled.

"Ryuuzaki, are- are you okay?"

L's lips snapped back into their usual bloodless line, displeased.

"I'm fine, Matsuda."

"Because, for a second there, you looked-"

"I said I'm fine!"

The day passed the same as the day before, but by lunch, the task force mostly ignored the chain between the two men. The peace was only broken once at lunch when Light stood up to join the others for noodles only to find L unwilling to move from his computer.

"It's easy to skip lunch for you! You've been eating all day!"

"Ah, I understand. Light-kun is jealous of my cake. It is alright. I will share a slice with you."

"No! I want to get some real food."

In the end, L sent Watari to get lunch with the rest of the task force, resulting in an extremely awkward situation for everyone involved as Mogi, Aizawa and Ide tried to ignore the old man and joke as usual, Matsuda tried to pump him for details about Ryuuzaki and Light, and Soichiro tried stoically to enjoy his lunch in peace. After returning with food for Light, and pudding for L, Watari pulled his charge aside to politely, but firmly inform him there would never be a repeat of that day's lunch.

He then left to do the boy's laundry and clean their living quarters. He came back from the kitchen holding his trademark hat and trench coat and excused himself to grocery shop and

"Purchase some necessary items."

At 6:30 the task force left and Light expected to continue working, but he recognized L's telltale twitchiness that signaled Watari to bring a tray of diabetes, and Watari had not yet returned. Finally L stood up.

"I am hungry."

He looked at Light and based on the teen's ridiculously healthy eating habits, deduced that Light probably could not make cake.

"Can you drive?"

L asked. Surprised, Light looked over.

"Yeah, of course, can't you?"

"I have of course learned, however to reach the pedals I have to sit like that…"

L replied, pointing to Light's perfect posture.

"And that would reduce my reasoning abilities by-"

"40%. I know." finished Light, standing up and asking

"So where are we going?"

L led him to a small garage, separate from the one the task force used. This one only had six spots, although one was empty, its usual inhabitant presumably being driven by Watari. The remaining five cars included a limo, a casual looking dark-blue car and a sleek black Ferrari. Light's mouth went dry. L stood by the blue car waiting for him, but Light stopped to look longingly at the Ferrari.

"Light-kun will need to enter the car on this side so the chain…"

So beautiful…

"Light-kun?"

Clearly brand new, how can he not drive this everywhere? It's absolutely- A hand appeared in front of Light's face and flicked him in the nose. Light returned to his senses, noticing with distaste that the detective was, once again, standing uncomfortably close to him.

"Sorry, what did you say?"

"Drive us."

L dangled the keys to the blue car, and with a final longing glance at the Ferrari, Light turned. In the car, they didn't speak, except for the occasional directions, from L to Light.

Light took the opportunity to assess the detective. L's entire life seems to be dedicated to keeping his intelligence at its maximum abilities. He doesn't seem to care about how oddly he sits, or eats, or holds things as long as he solves his cases. It makes him a formidable opponent. I'm glad I'm not Kira. He is obsessive. He truly believes I am Kira and he remains determined to prove it. At the same time, that means that he is the kind of man who would chain himself to a mass murderer. If he believes me to be Kira, he must have incredible emotional strength to shower in front of me, turn his back, even go to sleep. I can't imagine- L pulled a lollipop out of his back pocket and began to suck on it. How can a man be so…childlike, and so intelligent at the same time? That's another thing. L is spoiled. Watari has probably served him for his whole life and he's used to having things brought to him.

His money makes him impatient. He uses it to get what he wants, immediately, like with that armchair. L is similar to me in some ways. Although we are so different, we think the same. Misleading the team with false percentages is exactly what I would have done in his place. I must not underestimate him. L removed the empty stick from his mouth, observing it curiously, as if to try to understand where the candy had gone. Light watched the detective as he stared at the lollipop stick for almost a full minute before putting it into his pocket and returning his thumb to his mouth. Incredible. The only man whose intellect has ever rivaled mine is sitting two feet away, sucking on his thumb and pouting because he's out of candy.

"We're two blocks away."

L warned and Light followed his directions to a small but elegant restaurant where a valet took the car, discreetly averting his eyes as the two struggled to exit the vehicle chained together. As they walked into the restaurant, a man reached for Light's coat before realizing Light couldn't remove it.

"I hope Light-kun enjoys French food. My last trip was to France and I admit I have missed certain aspects of their cuisine." L murmered to Light as their server led them to a table.

"Dinner is on me, of course. I am sorry to have dragged you here, but…"

He raised his arm and shook it as if to bring attention to the chain. They were each given a menu and Light paused, surprised by the prices.

"Oh, well, if he wants to pay, let him. I couldn't afford an appetizer here.

Each scanned their menu and after deciding what he wanted, Light looked around the restaurant. He realized the soft music playing was coming from two violinists, a cellist and a pianist on a small stage set out of the way. All the other guests at the restaurant were wearing evening gowns or tuxedoes and Light fidgeted, not liking to be so underdressed in his slacks and button up shirt. L seemed not to notice how out of place he looked with jeans and his baggy shirt and a small murmer swept through the restaurant at the underdressed pair. The waiter returned.

"I'll have the cassoulet de la maison au confit de canard."

Light leaned back, fairly confident he had pronounced his order correctly. His confidence disappeared as flawless French streamed from L's lips.

"Je voudrais de moelleux au chocolat, tarte aux pommes, crème brulee, sorbet a la mangue, fraise et fruit de la passion, meringue, crème caramel, dacquoise et la tarte tatin? Ah, et quells sont-ils manger? Le couple a la table voisine? Un de ces. Servez-vous café?"

The waiter blinked once. Then he nodded. Light was extremely impressed by his abilities as a server for not giving any indication other than the blink of how strange "Ryuga" was.

"Bien sur."

He murmured, pen poised to the second page of his pad.

"Deux, s'il vous plait. Chaud. C'est tout."

The waiter bowed and departed. Light looked curiously at L.

"Are you French? You speak it very well."

"Do not be presumptuous, Light-kun, I am clearly not Japanese and I speak that fluently, along with another 16 languages, not counting the 19 that I am passable in."

"Why do you devote so much time to learning languages?"

"Presumptuous again, Light-kun. It is hardly a matter of time when you consider that with eidetic memory, I only need a working knowledge of sentence structures and a few hours with a dictionary. Regardless, I am a detective. It is a hindrance to my investigations when I cannot interrogate my suspects and there is no translator I trust more than myself."

It did not escape Light's attention that L did not deny the accusations regarding his heritage. He watched L's face carefully as the first of his two coffees was placed in front of him. The raven-haired man dipped his hand with practiced grace into the sugar pot, plucking a sugar cube on top of the first and he repeated his actions until he had seven cubes in his tower. Delicately, he held the tower by its base and ever so carefully he lifted it, sugar cubes wobbling, but not quite falling until he dropped the entire thing into his coffee, and Light realized he'd been holding his breath. L's pale hand flew up to his mouth for a moment where his pink tongue darted out to remove a droplet of coffee that had splashed onto his hand. Just as swiftly, the hand was back at the table, slender fingers plucking the silver spoon from next to the cup, and began stirring his coffee, coaxing the sludge at the bottom of the cup to dissolve.

Light had seen this ritual many times before, but it never ceased to fascinate him and he subtly leaned forwards although he could feel L's dark eyes flash briefly as he registered the movement and their increased proximity. They stared at each other, analyzing intently, until the soft cough of their waiter signaled the arrival of a salad for Light and L's first two desserts.

"Why…"

Immediately, Light cursed himself for saying anything at all. The other man had looked so unguarded while focusing on his sugar cubes and coffee and Light had forgotten briefly while watching L's odd little rituals that he was L, world renowned detective and the man who believed Light to be a murderer, regardless of how relaxed he may seem, playing with his spoon.

"Why what, Light-kun?"

What do I say now? Why do you insist on making my life a living hell? Why do you bother me with such irritating regularity when no one else can faze me? Why you say things that should make me want to strangle you…and yet…why don't I hate you? I should, shouldn't I? Why is it the only person who has ever interested me- made me want to ask so many questions…is the person I can't ask any of them? Why are you so determined for me to be Kira? In another life…we could have been friends. Shit, he's waiting.

"Why do you take your coffee so hot?" Light blurted out. L looked surprised. Then he leaned forwards as if imparting a very personal secret.

"Its just…" L looked unsure of himself, and vulnerable.

"I actually consume slightly more sugar than is considered normal."

Light suppressed a snort, and played along.

"No…" He pretended to absorb this information with wide eyes. L brought his fingers up to brush his lips, hiding his mouth as if in shyness. He looked down, demurely.

"Its true." Still hiding his lips, L looked up through his dark eyelashes at Light.

"I've actually…never told anyone that before…" Light leaned forwards even more, fluttering his fingers as if in distress for his friend. Every inch of him oozed reassurance.

"It's okay…I'm really glad you opened up to me."

"You don't think I'm…odd?" L's hand went from his mouth to his hair, brushing it forwards so it fell over his face, as if to conceal a blush. The effect was only slightly ruined by his other hand pushing away the empty plate from his first two desserts as he noticed the waiter approaching with a tray of small dishes.

"No, no. Of course not." Light smiled at L as he took in his companion's odd crouch, bare feet- his shoes lay abandoned under the table- impossibly pale skin, inhumanly dark eyes, messy hair, and baggy clothes.

"You're not odd at all."

As the waiter set down three different sorbets in front of L, his eyes lit up, and he dropped his act. Around spoonfuls of fruity ice, he said,

"As much as I like sugar, I do not wish to drink it solid. The hotter my coffee is, the more I can dissolve into it."

"Oh." Replied Light, much more interested in the game the two had just played. Who knew L had it in him? It made Light curious to push him farther, test out his acting abilities. That was surprising. Before now, I didn't think he could act. I mean, why would anyone who can act more normal still look like…that? L's thoughts followed a similar pattern. That was very different from my experiment on Matsuda earlier. I wonder if its my continued observation of Light. I may be picking something up. Both men looked up at each other, thinking the exact same thing.

Interesting. We'll have to try that again.

A/N: My French sucks. So this is what they are supposed to be saying.

"I'll have the cassoulet de la maison au confit de canard."

I'll have the perfectly normal food, please.

"Je voudrais de moelleux au chocolat, tarte aux pommes, crème brulee, sorbet a la mangue, fraise et fruit de la passion, meringue, crème caramel, dacquoise et la tarte tatin? Ah, et quells sont-ils manger? Le couple a la table voisine? Un de ces. Servez-vous café?"

I'll have the sweets, sweets, sweets, sweets, sweets, sweets, sweets and sweets. Ah, what are they eating? At the next table? One of those. Do you serve coffee?

"Bien sur."

Of course.

"Deux, s'il vous plait. Chaud. C'est tout."

Two, please. Hot. That is all.