Timekeeper10: I'm so glad i got L in character! I had a tough time writing that put because it wasn't the L we all know and love...it was little L. lol and thank for your review! in return i'll review your story.

Hilarious-Mayhem: thank you! I really like little L...he's so cute. ^-^

A/n: FINALLY! i got off my lazy ass to type out this chapter. Im sad to say that there will be no L for a while. :( BUT...another familiar character makes an appearance. I was thinking that I couldn't possibly write this story without including this guy! for this reason...SPOILER ALERT!!! if you haven't read Death Note: Another Note, then you should! lol and this chappie will spoil it big time. just warning ya! now that i've said that im sure you know who im talking about. hehe! anyways, read on and i hope you enjoy!

Chapter 3: 3:49pm

Three years later.

It was a rainy day at Wammy's House. Rosalee has taken refuge in the library. Even though there is no loud noises allowed the librarian lets Rosalee get away with playing classical music, as long as it was at a decent volume. All the other children were scattered about the house, playing with toys and being restless. That alone distracts her from practicing her ballet basics. She was hoping to find someone to have tea with on this gloomy Sunday(1), but her papa is busy and L is no where to be found.

A smirk crossed her face as she thought about her unique classmate. L and Rosalee do not have any classes together, but they do have tea together almost every day. Rosalee was still confused as to why he insisted on having tea with her. She was nothing special like him, but she did notice that he didn't have very many friends at Wammy's House. When you're studying to become the world's greatest detective you wouldn't really have time to make friends. So for the past three years Rosalee has been keeping him company, hoping it gave him a bit of solace in his elective loneliness.

She was almost done reading "Of Mice and Men" when she heard the librarian scold someone for bringing food into the library. Looking up she spots a boy about her age sitting in an armchair with a chessboard lying in front of him. In his hands is an empty jar. The contents of the jar must have been red since the boy's lips are covered in a gooey red substance. Strawberry jam, Rosalee silently mused as a smirk grows across her face. The librarian stalks away with the jar in hand. The boy doesn't seem to mind as he greedily licked his fingertips. Rosalee tried to stifle a giggle but failed miserably as it took her giggle sounded more like a hiccup.

The boy looked over at her. His eyes reminded Rosalee of L's relentless stare…but these eyes held a dark, almost sinister gleam. The boy's appearance was different from L's a little bit…short black hair covered his head neatly and his skin held the slightest tint of tan. He tilted his head, staring at Rosalee from across the room. Then his lips twisted into a smile. This made Rosalee feel a bit uncomfortable. Something about that smile seemed sadistic. He motions his head at the chessboard on the table. Rosalee's eyebrows burrow in thought. She's never seen this boy around the house or in any of her classes. One fault of Rosalee's is her insatiable curiosity. So, she puts her book aside and strides across the room to the strange boy.

She takes a seat across from the boy, the chessboard in between them. The boy stares hard at her, his eyes narrow, then they suddenly widen. It's almost as if he's astounded…about what Rosalee can't say. But when she looked at the boy she gasped. His eyes seemed to be glowing slightly red. Rosalee thought she might be going mad. The boy closed his eyes for a second, and when he opened them again they looked like normal coal black eyes…but a red tint was still embedded in the irises.

You only imagined them glowing, Rosalee's logically mind reasoned.

But why are they still slightly red?

As that question rang through her head the boy pulled out the chess pieces. He designated himself and Rosalee white. He looks up expectantly; it seems Rosalee will make the first move. They sat in deep thought, contemplating in the game and their opponent. But every time Rosalee glanced across the board those disturbing eyes were still there. It's not her imagination and soon she was contemplating her opponent past the present game. This didn't distract her of course. She managed to take one of his pieces.

"Check," she called out quietly. The boy looked up at her. His eyes focused at a point above her head for a moment before looking back down at the board.

"You're strange," the boy said calmly as he made his next move. This took Rosalee by surprise, distracting her momentarily from the game. She began to twirl a piece of her hair hanging free from her messy pigtails before continuing her move. "If that's your method of winning then I'm sorry to say that it won't work," she said confidently. She gazed at the boy's bowed head, daring him to continue his dirty trick. He made his move before meeting her gaze. "I'm not using a method…I'm just stating fact, incase you don't know," he answered seriously.

Rosalee nodded her head. "I suppose I am a bit strange…but the fact I'm not aware of is why I am strange. Could you enlighten me?" She made her move on the chessboard before glaring at him, waiting for his answer.

"I can't see your lifespan."

"What?" Rosalee arches an eyebrow in confusion.

"Your lifespan. It's the exact date and time of your death. I can see everyone else's floating just above their heads, but you…it's missing," he simply explained as he made a sneaky move on the chessboard. "Check," he called dully.

Rosalee tilted her head in befuddlement. What this boy just said sounded like complete nonsense, but she decided to humor him. Maybe it will make more sense if he elaborated more. "So you see life spans?"

"Yes. I can also see people's true names right above their life spans. So, if they're using an alias I will be aware of it."

"Ah, and can you see my name?"

"Yes, Rosalee Alessandra Wammy, I can. What confuses me is why you don't have a lifespan accompanying that name."

Rosalee shook her head, as if to shake out all the muddled thoughts from her mind. He knew her name…but it's not hard to figure out that she's related to the man who founded this house. She regarded him coldly, thinking that he's just trying to scare her. "Well, that's rude. You know my name and I don't know yours. And how am I supposed to believe what you're saying?"

"I don't have a name…or at least I don't remember what my parents named me. When Mr. Wammy took me here they gave me the name B."

"B?" She crinkled her nose. First L and now B…why do people think that's a real name?

"Yes. B is for Backup. It's all I'm seen as here," he said grimly. His hands clenched into fists for a split second. Rosalee twirls her hair, bypassing what he just said. "Well then, B, how do I know you're not pulling my leg?"

B shifts his eyes to the side as he ponders. Then he lifts his head up as he stares at the librarian. His eyes suddenly glow bright red. Rosalee jumps back in her chair. So, I didn't imagine it. A part of her wishes she did. B closes his eyes and turns his head back to Rosalee. When he opens them they are back to their original state, black and slightly red. "That librarian…we know her as Mrs. Pennyweather, but her real name is Dolores Ingram. And it just so happens that she'll die in the next three days at 3:49pm. If she dies then you'll have to believe me."

Rosalee blinks. "Really? I guess we shall see then." She takes her turn on the board. B studies her carefully. "You seem very calm about this," he stated as he moves a chess piece to claim one of her own. Rosalee sighs. "Believe me, this sounds like poppycock. But you seem sincere about it. And I must admit that it's very curious if what you're claiming is true."

"It is true…but what's still more curious is why you don't have a lifespan."

"Am I the first person you've seen without a lifespan?"

"Yes. I can only see the name and lifespan of humans. With animals I see nothing. You don't look like an animal to me," he said matter-of-factly. He looks around her, as if to spot a tail or hidden fur underneath her clothing. Rosalee giggles at his actions. "I'm no animal silly! And I'm quite human. You'll have to find a better explanation than that!"

B bites his lip and squints his eyes as he ponders deeply. Rosalee smiles as she reviews the chessboard. She strategically placed her queen, hoping that his next move will allow her to make the winning move. As she placed her piece B's eyes widened. Rosalee thought he spotted her plan on the board. He shifts his eyes and focuses on her face.

"I have concocted a theory. You see, while I see everyone's name and lifespan I cannot see my own. I've always thought it was because I had these eyes…but what if it's not that? What if I cannot see those who have the same eyes mine?"

"That's a good theory," Rosalee said, relieved that he didn't catch on to her move. "But one problem…I don't have your eyes."

"Hmm..." B brings his hand up and rests his head on his palm. "That is true…you're eyes aren't like mine."

"What are your eyes anyway?"

"I've always thought of them as supernatural," he answered as he made a move on the board. Rosalee grinned as she moved another piece. Just one more move for the win.

"Are you supernatural in any way?" B asked.

This caught Rosalee off guard. She kept her head down as she spoke. "Of course not." She twirled her hair nervously, keeping her eyes low.

B studies her with his calculating black eyes. He looks down at the board and makes one last move. "Stalemate," he states dully. Rosalee rounded on the board. She thought she had the win, but she didn't spot the move that would stale the game. "I don't believe you're being truthful, Rosalee. You're supernatural aren't you?"

Rosalee meets his eyes, ocean blue washing over hot coal. "If what you're saying is true…then you will find the answer to that."

B chuckles. "It seems neither of us can win," he says as he waves his hand over the board and themselves. Rosalee cracks a smile at his comment. B places all the pieces back to their starting positions. "Shall we play again?" he asked innocently, his eyes gleaming playfully.

"No, thank you. I must be going now. Homework isn't going to do itself unfortunately."

"Wouldn't be lovely if it could?" B gathers the chess pieces and puts them up in the table's drawer. "When the librarian dies just meet me in the attic. We can talk privately there."

"If she dies," Rosalee says as she points her finger at him. B shakes his head. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a tiny jar. The label reads "Raspberry Jam". Rosalee giggles lightly. "You better be careful…she'll kick you out," she warned as she stood up.

"I don't care. We won't have to deal with her after she's dead, so might as well break the rules."

Rosalee eyes him warily as he gulps down the jam. Geez…it seems that boys with one letter names have an insatiable sweet tooth! Rosalee rolls her eyes as she goes to retrieve her book. As she walked out she said softly, "It was nice meeting you, B. Maybe next time I'll beat you in chess."

"Yeah right," he said with a smile on his sticky pink lips. It would've been adorable if it weren't for his eyes…that just made it seem scary and a bit creepy. But Rosalee shrugged off the urge to shiver as she exited the library. B watched as she walked off. She intrigued him…she puts off that she's normal, but a certain kind of mysteriousness shines through her eyes. She's hiding something…that much I can tell. I'll find out soon enough, he thought as he licked his fingers clean.

At that moment the librarian stomps over and scolds him for breaking the rules again. As she was giving him a last warning B heard a soft, muffled noise behind him. He had no doubt in his mind that it was laughter from a blue-eyed girl that almost beat him in chess.

Three days have past since Rosalee met B in the library. She was just now getting out of her last class at 3:30pm. Half running, half walking to her room she hurriedly put her books up and grabbed "Of Mice and Men" to return to the library after she finished reading it. That wasn't all why she was going to the library…she was curious to see if B was telling the truth.

His little "eyes" sound ludicrous at first. A couple days after the meeting B, Rosalee asked her grandfather if the librarians real name was Dolores Ingram. He answered quite calmly, but she can tell that he was very surprised that she knew that. It was really her name…Mrs. Pennyweather was an alias for security purposes. When he questioned where she heard her real name Rosalee quickly lied that she overheard a conversation the librarian was having over the phone.

But there's always a chance that B overheard the librarian saying her real name. That conversation in the library could've been cleverly planned. I won't know until his prediction is proven true, she thought clearly as she stepped through the library doors. Dolores Ingram a.k.a Mrs. Pennyweather was behind the front desk, typing away on the computer. She looked up as Rosalee entered and smiled. Rosalee smiled back before taking a seat in an armchair across from the front desk. If she did so happen to die Rosalee didn't want to be involved. After what happened to her parents she's always tried to stay away from police.

Rosalee checked her pocket watch her grandfather let her borrow every now and then. It's currently 3:40pm…nine minutes before Mrs. Pennyweather dies. Supposedly, Rosalee reminded herself as she opened her book to the right place. As she read she kept a watchful eye on the time and the librarian. She could hardly keep up with her book for something was building up inside of her. Anxiety? No…it was anticipation. Even though a librarian was suppose to die in less than ten minutes she couldn't help to feel excited. Because if B's eyes were real then Rosalee reasons that she isn't alone. She shuts her eyes as a distant memory tries to invade her mind. She forces it into the back of her mind, where is always sits, and clears her thoughts for the task at hand.

She flips open the pocket watch. The little hand is just past the number three, eager to point at the four, while the big hand rests on the second mark before the ten. The seconds hand is just passing six. Thirty more seconds. Rosalee watches the librarian, feeling excitement drain a little while fear took up the vacancy. The thought of warning Mrs. Pennyweather crosses her mind, but her body was immobilized by the rising anticipation. Her eyes dropped to the pocket watch. Ten seconds…nine…eight…, she began to count down mentally. She allowed herself one last look at Mrs. Pennyweather, wishing her goodbye before looking down right as the big hand shifts over to the next mark.

3:49pm.

A choking noise startles Rosalee. She jerked her head up to see Mrs. Pennyweather hunched over the front desk. One of her hands is reaching for the phone while the other clutches at her chest. Her eyes gaze across the library, helplessly searching for someone to assist her. Rosalee's mind was screaming at her to get up, speak, anything…but her body was frozen in place by fear. A familiar sensation she felt the day her parents died coursed through her body. She braced herself for the worst to come, but then Mrs. Pennyweather collapsed on the desk. The phone hung off its cradle, a bust tone blaring from it as it dangled from side-to-side. Mrs. Pennyweather's eyes were motionless, no longer searching for the help she desperately needed. They stared at Rosalee, accusing her of her sudden demise.

Rosalee's breathe grew frantic. She didn't want to believe that Mrs. Pennyweather was dead, but the truth was glaring at her. Her body remained frozen, unable to remove herself from the armchair to call for help. Her mind was numb, no thoughts could form coherently. Only one action came to mind that could broke her from this shocked state.

She screamed. The high pitched sound rang throughout the room, bouncing off the walls and making it echo. When she could scream no more Rosalee shot off the armchair and ran for the door. All she could think about is leaving this room, just as she did her home in Brighton. She pulled the door open quickly and began to run. She didn't know where she was going until she remembered what B said.

When the librarian dies just meet me in the attic. We can talk privately there.

Rosalee skirted the corner of the hallway, making her feet run fast. Luckily, there was no one around to witness this hysteria, or else they would suspect her…or think her mad. Either way she wouldn't let them slow her down from her destination. She needed answers…a confirmation that she wasn't the only supernatural person alone in the world.

(1): Funny how Rosalee met B on a day very much like the day Rezso Seress wrote a song titled "Gloomy Sunday." It was soon known as the Hungarian Suicide Song for it was believed that the song was so depressing and soul wrenching that people would kill themselves just minutes after hearing it...that's an urban legend of course. i had to put some kind of death reference lingering wherever B is...it is B after all. lol

So, how was this chappie? Rosalee's shady past to coming to light now...anyone have any guesses? and how was B? it was again a bit hard having him character...mostly because im having to guess his character. lol please review! i would like to know if i should continue this story. and reviews are delicious...they taste like marshmellows. ^-^