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Wammy's House was beautiful now that Raito got to see it in the full daylight, fully rested. She stood near her window and looked down at the children running in the playground, laughing and playing tag. Some of the younger children were on the slides and swings and see-saws. It reminded her of the kids at recess when she used to go to school.

She was wrong about them being too serious. Perhaps they'd treated her like that because she was a stranger to them. But in the last few days, she noticed that they'd warmed up to her, especially the youngsters, who flushed with shyness every time she was near. It was pretty cute. She'd tried talking to the children once or twice but it hadn't really gotten anywhere beyond them telling her their names. And she couldn't possibly ask them what had happened to their parents because many of the children were so young, they probably didn't even know who their parents were.

"It's very tragic," Roger had said to her one day when they were sitting together in his study, having tea. "Most of these children come from troubled homes, where they often fell victim to domestic abuse. Some of them witnessed all sorts of violence and eventually, they ended up here because there was no one else to take care of them."

"But they're very bright, aren't they?" she asked, recalling how she saw a child of eight solve a very complex puzzle in a matter of minutes earlier that morning.

"Oh, yes," Roger took a sip of his tea. "They're lucky to have ended up here. Without their parents around, they wouldn't have gotten the care and attention needed to help them achieve their full potential."

Yes, they are very lucky indeed, she'd thought.

She didn't see much of L. Evidently, he preferred to keep himself locked in his room, like an angsty teenager. Or a vampire. The thought made her smile, because he did seem like a vampire with his pale skin and aversion to healthy food.

Sometimes, she wondered what he would be doing in his room. If she went in unannounced, how would she find him? With his eyes closed, hanging upside-down from the ceiling? Or staring wide-eyed at the monitor, watching…questionable material? She winced her disapproval.

Of course, she shouldn't care about what he did in his spare time. She'd hardly seen him after the night they'd agreed to wait for the culprit's next move. Perhaps that was good because they didn't need to spend more time together than necessary.

Well, it was work, not spending time together, an inner voice pointed out to her, but one thing was for sure and that was that they should see each other as little as possible. She had to admit, it wasn't easy being with him like this, as strangers who resented each other, when the last time she'd been with him, just before he left, she couldn't imagine spending the rest of her life with anyone but this man.

And look how that turned out, she mused bitterly. She was twenty, married, separated and soon to be divorced. Not exactly the perfect life that most people imagined she'd have.

Raito had been filled with an unsettling feeling since she and L had decided to wait for the criminal's next move. She would think about the unsuspecting people in Winchester and wonder which unfortunate individual would become the killer's next target. A part of her wished unrealistically that she could send out a warning to the people, telling them to be careful and not come out of their homes after dark (despite the fact that both bodies had been found inside the victims' homes), or even, not let any strangers in.

She imagined what L would say if she confessed this to him.

That's absolutely ridiculous, Yagami-kun, he'd put her down, unamused. If you do that, we'll never solve the case.

Well, at least we'd save lives and that's more important!

To which, L would sigh and make a condescending comment about the passion of youth and she'd want to retort that it was the same passion that had made her fall in love with him and elope, like two lovers in a Jane Austen novel.

And speaking of Jane Austen, her English was improving. She felt a sense of triumph at that. Maybe this trip will pay off in many ways. Sometimes she missed using Japanese but it wasn't so bad because she could still talk to Ryuuzaki and Watari in Japanese.

She'd called her parents the next morning after her arrival here. Good to know that they weren't worried about her. Her mother had said that she missed her immensely even if she'd been gone for just a day.

Her father hadn't said much. That was expected. She hadn't even asked to speak to him, it was her mother's idea to give him the phone. And Sayu had even had the cheek to ask her if she'd worn the red dress yet.

Raito had laughed and answered that there hadn't been an occasion yet to put on the dress. Not that she intended to, of course. She refused to become an object for L's lurid passions.

If he had any passion, that is.

As far as Raito was concerned, he was just a cold, slimy fish.

And the cold, slimy walking amphibian was knocking on her door.

"Ryuuzaki," she was filled with dread that another murder had happened, and the next clue the perpetrator had left for them. "Is something wrong?"

"Have you been watching the news?" he countered-asked.

She frowned at him. "No. I don't have a TV in my room."

Uninvited, he stepped in and she was forced to move aside to let him pass. He took a look around the room as though he were seeing it for the first time. She folded her arms and waited impatiently for him to tell her why he was here.

"We should get you a TV," he announced, astonishing her.

Then she frowned again. "Yes, that'd be very nice of you," she said sarcastically. "But what's going on? Has there been another death?"

"Not exactly," Ryuuzaki moved to perch on the chair like an overgrown bird, the pad of his thumb pressing against the corner of his mouth. "We're still waiting."

She looked at him questioningly. He looked at her expectantly.

"Sit," he gestured towards the bed, like this were his room and not hers.

Suspicious, she obliged, lowering herself on the edge of her bed, wondering what he was doing here if there hadn't been any new murders.

Maybe he had some new information to give her. Maybe he'd finally figured out who might want to harm him. After all, there had to be something he was up to when he was on his own.

When he opened his mouth, the most unexpected question came out:

"Did you call your family?"

She was taken aback. This was what he wanted to ask her? "Yeah," she said, trying not to be rude (her parents had raised her better than to be rude to her soon to be ex-husband). "Just yesterday."

"I hope they're doing well," he offered.

She eyed him skeptically. "Yeah, they're not bad," she nodded. She changed the subject bringing it back to their case. (Why were they talking about personal things anyway?) "Did you get any more leads?"

He seemed to have been expecting the question. "I've thought about it but I'm afraid I have nothing." He pouted. "I can't seem to figure it out." In other words, We'll have to wait and see. "And you?"

"Same, I guess," she sighed, resting one hand on the mattress, fingers curling in the sheet.

"Would you like to go out?" he asked out of the blue.

Raito blinked at him, utterly shocked. "Out?" she sputtered.

"It's no fun being stuck in your room when it's so beautiful outside," L shrugged, a sharp movement of his shoulders.

Now that had come unexpected. She didn't see him out of his room for the last two days and now he was asking her...

Wait...what were his intentions?

He held up his hands in surrender, sensing her suspicions. "I have no ulterior motives, I promise," he said, his face perfectly innocent. "I just thought it would be more fun to hang out outside."

Hang out? Her insides curled in disgust at the words but she agreed. He had a point, anyway. "Okay, then." She got up and he did, too.
And when she looked up, she found his shoulder very close to her face, his scent, the protruding of his Adam's apple, and finally, his intense coal gaze on her.

Her mouth felt very dry all of a sudden. And her mind was blank.

"Uh," she started uneasily because she didn't know what else to say. His sudden closeness had made her lose her train of thought, made her remember...

Without a word, L shuffled away, face unreadable.

Be professional, be professional, just forget that he's your husband.

As she locked her door and pocketed her key, they walked slowly through the hallway, L strangely quiet (all right, that was not strange since he was taciturn) in his usual hunched position, hands in the pockets of his jeans. He wore sneakers that squished on the floor, while her heels clicked elegantly.

As they walked down the stairs, he asked her, "What do you think of Wammy's House?"

She glanced at him. He was looking at her expectantly. "Am I impressed, you mean?" she asked back.

He smiled a bit then, to her surprise. "If you want to think of it that way."

She couldn't help smiling back. "I am impressed," she admitted. "Wammy's House is very well-maintained for an orphanage."

"And did you talk to any of the children here?" he questioned, genuinely interested in her opinion.

"I tried but...it didn't work out." She was sad. "I suppose I'm not very good with kids. And the older ones didn't seem very interested to get to know me."

"They're just shy," said L dismissively. "And self-absorbed."

She laughed. "Aren't they basically the same thing?" she said to him.

"Not really," he disagreed. "I would say that shyness means you want to talk to others but you lack the courage. Being self-absorbed in when you're not interested in others because you think you're better than them."

"Sounds like you're talking from experience," she observed.

L looked ahead. "I used to have trouble with people my own age when I was a kid," he confessed quietly to her. "They used to think I was too proud to talk to them but I just didn't know how."

Why was he telling her all this? Not that it wasn't interesting. "Watari told me that you're an orphan," she said carefully, waiting for his reaction, hoping that she hadn't touched a spot.

"Ah, yes," he nodded, but he said nothing more on the topic. She decided not to press it.

They'd already stepped outside, a breath of fresh air greeting her, ruffling her skirt slightly. She heard the laughter of the children, saw the huge smiles on their faces and suddenly, the world seemed like a less dreary place.

Even with a murder case and an impending divorce.

She decided that she rather liked being among them; it gave her a more positive feeling about life, that things weren't so bad and she was luckier than many people in the world. Whatever she'd suffered was from her own hands and she supposed that it was better than being affected by circumstances over which you had no control.

"It's cooler out there," she said to L.

"Well, yeah," he smiled lopsidedly. "It's boring to be stuck in a room with no air, nothing to do."

She rolled her eyes. "I find that hard to believe coming from a guy who has no windows in his study," she rejoined, not rudely. "And who doesn't come out of his room for two days."

"I had work," he said nonchalantly. "But I did come out."

"Oh?" she raised an eyebrow. "When?"

"Early in the morning," he shrugged again.

"To raid the fridge?" she guessed, cinnamon eyes filled with mirth.

"And get more cake," he replied with a straight face.

She found herself laughing at the mental image of him sneaking out like a child, at the crack of dawn, looking for sweet junk food in the kitchen.

Be professional, be professional, said a mantra in her head.

"What do you suggest we do?" she asked him, looking around.

"We could take a walk," he suggested easily. "Or play tennis."

"Tennis?" she was amused. "You play tennis?" That was rather hard to believe, considering that he looked a starvation victim.

"I was the British Junior Tennis Champion," he explained, surprising her even more. "I'm quite good, you know."

She rose up the challenge. "Well," she told him with a taunting smile. "You should know that I was a champion, too."

"Then we're evenly matched." L approved of this. "Why don't we go to the tennis court then?"

"This place has a tennis court, too?" she asked him in awe as he led her away.

"And a basket ball court," he supplied monotonously. "And a swimming pool. Along with indoor sports."

She turned to her right, admiring the bushes and trees, the green beautiful to her eyes. "Impressive," she breathed. She hadn't known about these facilities.

"I'm glad you think so," he replied with some pride. "A lot of hard work was put into it to make this a top class establishment."

"I see." Should she mention to him that she knew about how he funded Wammy's House, or was that something too personal? She wasn't sure if she was supposed to know about it in the first place. "You're very attached to this place," she remarked instead.

"It's understandable since I did grow up here," he replied without looking over his shoulder. "Most of the times anyway."

Her ears perked at that. "Most of the times?" she pressed.

"Well...I had to leave for extended periods when I was solving a case. Like the time when I went to Japan and met you." He gave a small nod in her direction; she felt uncomfortable to be reminded of that. It was like reopening an old wound that she was desperately trying to heal.

"Actually, this is the first time I have a case in Winchester," L adjudged. "Most of the times, my work leads me away from here."

"And this is...home to you?" she ventured hesitantly.

He paused before answering. "Yes."

The tennis court was huge, needless to say. It was surrounded by bushes, little walls and white paint to draw boundaries, and a wide net in the middle. She hadn't played tennis ever since she graduated from junior high, but her stomach quivered with anticipation as she realized how much she'd missed the game.

"How long has it been since you played?" L asked, handing her a racquet.

"A couple of years, give and take," she answered. "I haven't played since I was fifteen."

He smirked. "So you're out of touch, then."

She made a face at him. "Don't get so cocky," she mock-scolded. "How about you?"

"I play now and then," he allowed. "It's hard to find a tennis partner since everyone here is either too much younger than me."

"Or too much older," she offered, referring to Roger and Watari.

He smiled at her. "Right."

"But then, I'm also younger than you," she pointed out with a hidden challenge.

"You are," he agreed. "But you're also my equal."

She didn't know why but that gave her a jolt in her heart. They'd always believed that about each other, it was why she'd agreed to get involved with him in the first place, but she hadn't expected him to bring it up now.

She went to her side of the court, preparing herself for the game, intently watching L bounce the ball on the other side. And it was then that she realized that she was not wearing the right shoes.

"Shoot!" she exclaimed, loud enough for him to hear.

"What's wrong?" he called to her, pausing, one hand holding the ball, the tennis racquet dangling from the other.

"I'm not wearing the right shoes," she answered, feeling very silly.

"Oh," he glanced at her feet. "You don't want to play then?"

She didn't see how she could play tennis in those smart black pumps that would make running quite difficult, but she was no quitter and she wouldn't let L have the upper hand just because of a pair of stupid shoes.

So she quickly went into the corner and plied off the pumps, feeling the gravelly texture of the ground against the soles of her bare feet. Well, it wasn't perfectly comfortable but at least, it would make running easier.

In triumph, she turned back to look at L, who started looking a little unsettled at first. She frowned. She'd only taken off her shoes, why should that make him feel uneasy?

And then, she recalled how...in the old days, he'd said to her that one of the things he most adored about her body was her feet because they were so..."delicate and graceful."

Don't think about that.

She wasn't doing this to play dirty by distracting him. But if it worked in her favor...if it taught him a lesson, then sure, why not?

A sweet revenge under the guise of professionalism.

"Ready?" she smiled challengingly at him.

He bounced the ball on the ground a few times, and struck hard.

It almost whizzed past her; she would've missed it if she hadn't been quick on her feet, her arm shooting out, her wrist making the swerve to hit the ball back in his direction.

The ball shot past Ryuuzaki's shoulder like a comet, bouncing against the wall. He stared at it, and then blinked a few times.

"That was amazing, Yagami-kun," he said appreciatively, bending down to pick up the ball.

"Thank you," Raito tried not to gloat.

The next time he swerved at her, she tried to hit the ball, but it had come too fast and she missed. She stared at him incredulously, surprised by the venom, but he shrugged innocently, as if to say, All's fair in love and war.

Well, she gritted her teeth. It used to be love between them. Now it was war.

For the next forty-five minutes, they played like two souls possessed. Sometimes she would hit the ball so hard that it nearly smacked L in the face.

(And she would be sad that it hadn't.)

It was no longer a friendly game between two opponents or about professionalism. It was personal, a means of getting revenge, a way of expressing everything she couldn't with words – the anger, the frustration, the hurt.

She'd promised herself that she wouldn't let all those negative emotions get in the way; instead, she would try her best to focus on her primary goal, but the game made her forget. As did constantly having to keep her eyes on L, something she usually avoided doing. But watching L move with such determination, often a blur of white and blue, the loud hitting sounds, his black hair flying in the wind – how come it never got in his eyes? - was a huge distraction for her because that single-minded focus kept telling her that it was really him, he was really back; this was not a dream and she had agreed to cooperate with him so that he would give her what she wanted.

She wasn't even aware of what she was doing. She hadn't seen the spectators surround them on the boundaries of the tennis court, watching them in awe like two gladiators in an arena. Dimly, her mind registered the voice of a referee but she didn't care; all that mattered was that she had to beat L, make him pay for what he'd done to her, for the way he'd broken her heart.

I never deserved that, you bastard.

And she swerved as hard as she could, putting in all her focus and determination as if this final shot would decide her fate.

And in a way, it did.

Because L had missed it and the referee had just announced her as the winner.

She stopped then, trying to catch her breath, wiping the sweat off her forehead. Her feet was aching, slightly bruised, the adrenaline was rushing through her veins, making her feel elated. L stood on the door side of the court, his gaunt face pale, skin glistening with sweat and his chest was heaving, too.

As he approached, she swallowed, waiting to hear what he had to say.

"That was a good game, Yagami-kun," he said appreciatively, and then he reached out a hand to shake hers.

She didn't know why but the gesture and his reaction made her very angry. Did he have no feelings at all? Was she the only one who'd taken this game personally?

"Yeah," she nodded quietly, shaking his hand. It felt cool and clammy with sweat, but his skin was soft and smooth, just the way she remembered it.

He hadn't changed much.

She looked at the crowd around them and gave L a little smile. "Looks like we gathered quite an audience," she commented.

She was limping slightly as she left the tennis court, her soles hurting from running over the ground for so long. She'd have to bathe them in warm water as soon as she got back to her room.

"You all right?" L asked her in concern.

"Uh, yeah," she tried to hide her limp, trying to keep in stride with him. She really hated it when it looked like he was slowing down on purpose. "It's no big deal."

"You want to go back to your room?"

Not with you. Aloud, she shook her head and said, "In a bit. I could actually do with a drink. The game's made me very thirsty."

"Okay. We could go to the kitchen, then."

The kitchen was empty when they got there. She'd never been here before but she liked how neat and pristine it was, spic and span, not a single thing out of place.

And judging from how well L seemed to know the kitchen, she guessed that this was his favorite place in all of Wammy's House.

Raito slowly sat behind the kitchen counter, loving the feel of its cool surface against her palms. The game had made her very hot and thirsty indeed. She took off her shoes again and wriggled her toes to ebb down the discomfort.

L was raiding the fridge (just like she'd imagined!) and he came back with two tall glasses of orange juice with little ice cubes floating on top.

Well, he was quite the host.

"Thank you," she said as he handed her one glass. She took a sip, the drink satiating her parched throat. And then she saw him dropping a few extra sugar cubes into his juice. She couldn't help hiding a smile behind her glass. It was so like him, to add sugar to everything. He'd told her, when they first met, that sugar helped him increase his brain activity.

Sadly, sugar had not increased his emotional intelligence.

And it further surprised her that he was not crouching on the kitchen stool. He was actually sitting like a normal human being. Okay, granted that crouching on a stool was a task that not even L could achieve, but still...it was the first time she'd seen him sit like this. He'd even held the classes with more care than with other things.

She was about to say something when L's beeper sounded. He quickly fished it out of his back pocket and read it, his features growing tense.

"What is it?" she asked anxiously.

His eyes met hers. "There's been another murder," he said gravely.

A/N: Sorry I couldn't post this earlier. There was serious tornado raging through my country on Thursday night and on Friday, there was no electricity or water in my city.
I wasn't sure if it was realistic for men and women to play tennis together since they do never to that in tournaments, but Serria said it'd be ok since L and Raito weren't playing in a tournament.
Also, do forgive any typos that you find and please let me know. Feedback is highly appreciated.