AN- Yes I know you don't like her, but tolerate her for me for just a bit longer. You already know that I don't like her much either, and exactly what I plan to do with her. So nyah. I love the end to this one. -Kani

"Damn it…I haven't called Mikatsu yet…" Misa muttered to herself as she dug in her purse for her phone. The little machine was the bane of her existence on days like this, in the break between shoots when she finally had a few hours to herself during the day. She flipped it open and pressed the speed dial for her new manager, toeing her shoes off.

"Really, I think I preferred Matsuda…" The grumbling was all theatrical, because she had another reason for calling him. He was going to serve as cover while she set up her cell-phone trick. The ringing ended, and she braced herself.

"Hey Misa-baby! How you doing, eh?" Her shiver of irritation was not forced.

"I'm doing fine Mika-chan! I was just wondering if you'd finished up my new schedule?"

"Oh…Yeah, just hold on a minute. I gotta bring it up."

"Mm-kay, I'll get my planner." She sprinted down the hall to her office area, and pulled the little book out of the desk. Lime green, furry, and completely pointless but necessary. She already had her schedule… if she depended on this idiot to plan her work, she'd be laughed at. He was completely useless.

"Okay, you ready baby?" She grimaced at the endearment but her voice was still sugar sweet.

"Hold on, I'm gonna put you on speaker phone so I can compare, okay?" The man had a talent for ignoring previous appointments…once, she was scheduled to meet three different representatives, and attend a meeting at one in the same afternoon. She pulled the phone away and held down the speaker button. "Okay, go."

The man started reading off her schedule for the next two weeks. She was always booked at least that far in advance. She idly began scribbling into her planner with one hand, and flipping through her contact list with the other. Mikatsu's voice grated on her nerves, but again, necessary.

Why did the necessary things have to be annoying?

Finally, somewhere around Thursday afternoon, she interrupted him.

"With who?"

"Takeshi Obata. Make-up artist."

"Hold on, I need to add him to the list…" Lies, he was already there. Still, add new contact, erase old? No. Replace information? She deleted the number she just typed in and left it blank. Yes. Beep.

"Shit…"

"What is it Misa-baby?"

"I just screwed my contact list…hold on…" And…go. She turned and blocked the screen from any cameras and began assigning the criminals to alarms on her phone. Once set, they'd ring every few minutes as scheduled, and a picture would pop up. Names and lifespans seemed to hover over the tiny LCD screen and then fade as she scrolled and selected the ones that didn't match the contact listing. Ten, twelve, no that one was too close…actually better to leave it…it'd have to look like she was actually receiving phone calls. Fifteen, good…She set the timer, and reviewed her schedule one more time. New events, colored red with little bell symbols next to them dotted the page of the electronic planner in her phone.

"Okay Mika-chan, fixed it. Go ahead."

Why were the necessary things annoying?

XXXX

"Hi! Nice to meet you!" Misa twirled her gold pen and smiled brightly at the young man before the table. She winked flirtatiously and asked, "So…who am I making this out to?"

The poor boy almost fainted. She almost wished she didn't have to ask every time…really, his name was floating above his head for crying out loud. She might have made the trade even if it weren't useful to Light…just so she could use them for autograph signings. Misa's smile never faltered, despite the twinge of nausea that pervaded her stomach at his stammering reply.

"Toji, huh? Cute."

She hated teenagers. She scrawled the name in huge flowing letter across the tablet and kissed the corner before signing her name. Red lipstick, gold ink, and worth about a grand on online auctions. Her smile was real for second…sometimes she loved her job.

Right on cue she tore the page out and paused as her little phone began dancing across the table. She pouted and waved the next group of girls up.

"Gimme just a second honey. Heya, This is Misa-Misa!" She spoke to a non-existant voice and slipped her thumb to the back of the tablet. "Another one? Oh god, I don't know if I have time! Okay….Yes, of course I'll try! You tell him Misa-Misa won't let him down! Yeah…okay, bye!"

She pulled the phone down and glanced at the picture before dismissing the alarm.

"Oh I'm sorry girls…another schedule change! They'll work a girl to death!" The group made some pitying sounds and she lifted the page and scribbled onto the Note paper. The list was already up to four, and she'd have to ration them out until she found time to spill something on her planner…she had to have an excuse before calling Mikatsu again.

"So, Ladies, gimme names! And that jacket is adorable by the way, I just love the color."

XXXX

"Matsuda, what is she doing?!"

"I told you! She's just signing names and taking pictures!"

L and Light sighed and stared at the microphone like the detective could feel their stares. He could apparently, or knew them well enough to guess.

"Guys, I'm serious, she hasn't left the table all day. She can't be writing on Death Note paper, or else there'd be a small screaming riot at the Shinigami following her around, don't you think? Can't I just go and…"

"Matsuda, NO!" L snapped cutting him off. "If you talk to her, she'll realize she's under investigation, and she might kill you. This is Kira we're dealing with…not Misa-Misa."

"Right…sorry…"

XXXX

"It's not that big a deal Amane!" Misa crossed her arms and stared her assistant down. Some people just didn't understand how this industry functioned. She didn't need those people on her team.

"Let me put it to you this way. You were assigned by the agency to handle all the clothing that this company sent to me, correct?"

"Yes."

"Meaning that when you leave it on the ground, and you don't take proper care of it, the company looks bad."

"I guess so."

"The company, however, didn't hire you. They hired me…and I'm supposed to make them look good. So when you don't care of the clothes, I look bad. They look bad."

"…Right."

"However, you don't work for the company. You work for me. So when the company can't fix the problem, which is you, they fire me." Misa watched it dawn on the girl, and that was the last straw…if she really couldn't think that far along, she didn't belong here. She was costing her both time and money, and if she didn't leave, there also wouldn't be time to bribe Ryuk.

"I'll do better next time."

"Next time was last week. I'm sorry, but I'm letting you go. Now. Leave."

"Amane!"

"I told you then, and I'm telling you now, you are NOT going to cost me any more money. I didn't get this far by allowing incompetent people to handle my affairs. I'm firing you."

"Only the agency can-"

"The agency will just re-assign you. They won't pay you as much, but you still have a job. You just don't work for me anymore. Have a nice day." Finally, finally, the girl stormed out. As though the devil himself were waiting on his cue, her cell phone began ringing shrilly from the make-up table. With a real phone call, no less…Misa could rip her perfectly bleached hair from her head in frustration.

"Ryuk…Apples. Five seconds. Go." The shinigami wasted no time and dove into the grocery bag atop the rack of clothing in question. Misa stood beside the tent flap a second longer before grabbing her phone and flipping it open. Voice sugar sweet, she answered it, still watching the black monster rip through the three apples and stuff the cores back into the grocery bag.

"Misa-Misa speaking!"

"Hey Misa-baby!" Oh god, if she could only get away with murder…

"Hello Mikatsu." The conversation was pointless, and as her manager, he should know how valuable her time was…this was ridiculous. She tossed the wrinkled clothing off to one side and accepted the plastic bag and tucked it into her purse. Listening to the manager babble, she tied the tent flaps open and looked out over the photography crew.

XXXX

"Matsuda, for God's sake, you're supposed to be watching her!"

"I AM Ryuuzaki! I can't see through walls though!" L threw his hands up with a cynical laugh and left the station. Light took his chair and tapped the microphone.

"Matsuda, can you see her at all?"

"She's just inside that tent thing, probably changing. Some girl just stormed out, I think Misa fired her…Wait, there she is." L counted to ten and returned to Light's side, shoving a palm full of gummy bears into his mouth.

"What's she doing?"

"She's just standing there…on the phone."

"On the phone? Shit Matsuda!" It was Light's turn to shove away in disgust, rolling the chair to the opposite station and fiddling with the taps. Soon the conversation came over the speakers, and they sighed in irritation. Just that idiot manager again.

"She's been on the phone a lot, actually."

"She's a model, Matsuda. That is perfectly understandable." L remarked around his mouthful of bears. He made a note to check her call history anyway…Matsuda hadn't mentioned anything about the calls until just now. They had no idea what 'a lot' could be. He leaned forward and tapped the mike again.

"Matsuda, Aizawa will relieve you in an hour."

"What?! But I just got here an hour ago myself!"

XXXX

"Oh, you clever girl." Light turned to glance at the detective, noticing the way his toes curled on the seat. He glanced between their screens, confused for a moment.

"Are we investigating the same woman, L?"

"Oh yes…I think I've got her." Light was a little creeped out by the way the detective was smiling. He watched him blow a bubble with the gum in his mouth and sighed. It was just like L to make him ask what he was talking about.

"Find something?"

"Perhaps." The detective fell quiet again and Light felt a muscle in his temple twitch.

"Like?"

"Like false contacts."

"…She's been holding out for almost a week because of false contacts?"

"Quite likely. She's at a charity auction right now, isn't she?"

"I don't know, ask Matsuda." The man wasn't around to hear the quip, but Light was still irritated by the man's utter infatuation with Misa. He still couldn't bring himself to believe that she was a murderer, and so, in that happy place of his mind, she wasn't. They could have had her two days after the cameras went up if he were even remotely capable of doing his job.

"Yes, she is…a televised one, I believe. Please find it on the television." Light sighed at the request, but at least the bastard tacked a please onto it.

"Write down the time every time she writes something down."

So much for that. "Is there a point to this?"

"She's been setting alarms to go off at random times while she's at functions. She assigns no other information to them except a contact." L took a moment to lean over and assault Light's computer, bringing up something on his screen. Light resisted the urge to throw the remote at the back of his head…he didn't even save the report before he closed it…just shut it down. "…And our database has proven the first four to be false contacts. In fact, if I pull up the file for recent deaths…"

"… The pictures should match."

"Meaning not only is she still killing, she's using the eyes, and doing it in plain sight."

Light turned to stare at the televised picture of Misa, sitting beside the door to a charity auction house and signing autographs.

"The autographs."

"Exactly." Light resisted the urge to cause him physical damage again and fetched paper. He took a seat on the couch and watched.

"Time?"

"Eight forty three and eleven seconds." Light scribbled it down, and watched with a critical eye as she dropped the remaining pages back into place.

"She's hiding it in the tablets…flipping it to the back when she writes them down…"

"Clever. I could fall for her, I think."

"I don't...Time."

"Nine oh two and thirty eight seconds. Why not?"

"You've never been on the receiving end of…that…"

"Agreed. I do not think I could date her. After this all we have to do is compare the list of criminals with the list you're composing." Thank you, Captain Obvious, Light thought to himself. He swore the detective was just doing it to get on his nerves. Suddenly, he smirked.

"…You are recording this, aren't you?"

L paused mid-bubble, glancing over his shoulder at Light and back at his screen. He leaned over again and typed something onto Light's keyboard.

"I am now."