Though it seems like we wait forever
Stay sweet baby
Believe and we've got everything we need
Sweet lady sweet lady

- 'Sweet Lady' by Queen

The gates to Wammy's House loomed over the car Watari was driving in front of a tall, grey, Victorian building, creating in its essence the most intimidating moment of Sara Kelly's life so far. In that second, she regretted severely agreeing to meet L's family. He sat with knees up to his chest beside her in the car, oblivious to how she wrung her hands and tried to control her breathing. She repeatedly cussed under her breath. Everything in her brain screamed at her not to look at the building, or else she would enter a full-scale panic attack.

"Wow…" she muttered. "You… grew up… here…"

"I suppose you could say that," he replied.

"You're very… upper-class," she said quietly.

At this remark, L glanced at her. She was staring at her entwined hands, her complexion almost green with anxiety. He brought to memory how Watari had behaved with her on first meeting, and how inferior she must have felt in comparison to such a noted, respectable man. After a pause, he sighed at her. He couldn't deal with her hysteria as well the children's.

"There is nothing to be concerned about," he told her exasperatedly. "You were my choice, and even my opinion of you is insignificant in the long run." This did not seem to appease her, so he shocked her by gripping her chin and forcing her eyes in his direction. "Miss Kelly. Trust me. There is nothing about you that should make you feel inferior to anybody here. Or anybody anywhere."

He maintained eye contact with her, hoping that by saying as firmly as possible she might begin to believe what he was saying to her. This was his complete reasoning, and yet, even when he noticed her shoulders relaxing, he did not release her face. Unknown to him, he was frozen, until Watari opened the door to Sara's right and he let go.

"Here we are," Watari announced, gesturing for Sara to get out of the car.

Blinking away her surprise, she turned away from L to clamber through the door and out onto the gravel. The house entranced her. Her lips parted to speak, however no sound could be emitted. Watari patted her shoulder encouragingly. He removed a set of keys from his pocket and was followed by Sara and L up to the front door. Quickly, he turned the keys in the door and pushed it open, revealing a grand staircase and parquet floor leading to several different hallways.

"Home sweet home," he smiled.

"How many times have I told you not to leave the door open, Bess-?" a Scottish voice snapped. A small, round woman with a face that reminded Sara of a marshmallow hurried down the stairs before halting. "Quil! Good God, why didn't you say you were coming?"

"I live here, Maggie," Watari chuckled as the woman he addressed hurtled down the stairs and enveloped him in a warm embrace.

Maggie caught sight of L over Watari's shoulder and beamed. "Oh, and look who's back, the wee troublemaker! Come over here!" Much to L's reluctance, she hugged him tightly. The expression on his face was pure comic gold, at which Sara could not help laughing. "And who's this?"

"Maggie, this is Sara Kelly," Watari explained.

"It's very nice to meet you," Sara put in hastily.

"Oh, darling, but aren't you lovely?" Maggie exulted. "Put a halo on you and I'd think Elliot had caught himself an angel."

"She knows, Maggie," L grumbled.

Maggie's eyes widened in astonishment. "She knows?" A warm smile graced the Scot's face. "Well, welcome to the family, then, sweetheart! Come on, you'd better meet the rest of them, they're just having lunch right now…"

They took Maggie's lead and headed down a corridor. Sara turned to L. "Your mum's really nice."

"She's not my mother, Sara," he admitted. "Maggie is the matron here."

"Matron? What do you mean-?" She cut herself off and studied his expression intently. "You're an orphan. This place is an orphanage. That's why when you talked about the baby growing up in an orphanage… oh. I'm so sorry, L, I didn't know-"

"You couldn't have done," he interrupted her bluntly. "I didn't tell you."

"I know, but still-"

"There is no need to look at me in that manner," he said.

"I don't understand…"

"You can apologize, you can smile at me, you can even talk behind my back, but don't you dare pity me," he warned her. "I have no desire for your pity."

"I don't pity you, L-"

"Elliot now," he insisted. "Elliot is what they know me as here."

She chuckled a little. "Suits you."

The hall that they entered was in fact a fancy dining room, the tables laid out casually around with gingham table cloths. Approximately ten chairs could fit around one table, and the moment they stepped across the threshold, all eyes, belonging to roughly one hundred and fifty children, sped to their figures. Several of the young ones jumped up and ran over to hug Watari, who greeted them heartily, and some tackled L by the legs so that he fell over.

"Oh – ow! Hello again," he said. "Deano, Lucy."

The redheaded girl who had clung to his left leg however now was brushing herself off and gaping indiscreetly at Sara. "What's your name?"

"This is Miss Kelly-"

"Sara, my name's Sara," Sara replied.

"She's L's… partner," L attempted to tell the small girl, who was squealing with delight.

"Like a girlfriend? Are you L's girlfriend?" Lucy shrieked. "What's he like?"

L expected Sara to panic and throw him a pleading glance. He already had a cover story prepared about her in fact being one of the detective's researchers. He braced himself to talk on her behalf, yet found the necessity did not present itself. She smiled as though remembering something funny – which, knowing the question, she probably was.

"L is… many things," she murmured, "like stubborn, and childish. He's a workaholic, and he will do whatever he has to in order to get his way." L opened his mouth to interrupt. "But he's all right. Perhaps not a pleasant man, but a good man."

This did not silence all of Lucy's questions, yet left some room for her to breathe. She caught his eye and laughed quietly at his dumbfounded expression. Eventually, he got round to introducing her to all of the children, or at least most of them. He did not miss the older boys staring at her. At this point, he applied his best poker face. He was not sure what to make of the snake coiling in his stomach and the urge in his arms that begged him to punch the lads. A ginger boy put a hand on his arm.

"Cool your jets, Elliot."

"Hello, Matt," L said, clearing his throat.

"You look pissed," Matt chortled.

"Odd observation."

"Is it? Your fists are clenched. So is your jaw. You haven't stopped gawking at those goons over there for about ten minutes. So no, I don't think it's that odd an observation." He rubbed the back of his neck. "I don't know much, but I know it's gotta be hard, liking a girl like that when she's going out with your boss."

L's eyes widened. "No, no, no, there has clearly been a misunderstanding-"

"Okay, whatever," Matt surrendered, holding two palms up. "But I don't know what you call it when you light up whenever someone's in the room, when they make you more tolerant and change you for the better." He shrugged. "What would I know? I'm just a kid, right?"

L looked up when Sara turned around, surrounded by children. Resting on her hip was a four-year-old called Millie, who she spun around and laughed with in delight. Even with Jenny he had never seen her smile so openly. One of the kids began tugging on the hem of her shirt and begging her to go bake cakes with them. She glanced over at L, as if asking permission, and he nodded, amused.

The full impact of what the children were asking hit him finally after a minute. Of course; they were baking, so there would be cake. And lots of it. If there was one thing he loved, it was cake, and there were approximately ten children all preparing to make several batches. He would be a complete idiot to miss out on this opportunity, and so he followed them into the kitchens, which were clean, white and impressive. At each station was counters, cupboards and an oven, and Sara was helping retrieve ingredients from the highest shelves.

"If you guys start whisking the sugar and butter together, I'll get the flour for you," she told them. Eagerly, every single child nodded and set off to do as she had asked.

"I think you need to have a word with the teachers here," L said, startling her. "A couple of hours and they are obeying your every word, where the teachers have known them years and cannot get them to do anything."

She chuckled and put the large bag of flour down on the wooden table in the middle of the stations. "They're good kids."

"They're little monsters," he contradicted. The children protested, and he shook his head, lips turning up a little at the corners. "No, no, I don't want to hear any complaints. The truth is you're a bunch of troublemakers."

"Everyone's a child once, Elliot."

"Not me."

"Never?" she said.

"Not once." He walked around the table next to her, hands in his pockets and shoulders slouched. "I was born the height I am now with the mind of an adult."

"Not from what I hear," she teased. "I was having a very interesting conversation with Maggie about you as a child, Elliot-"

"No…"

"Yes, and she told me all about this little blue blanket you used to have when you were a toddler -"

"Miss Kelly, that's enough-"

"And you called it Remy, and you wouldn't let anyone else touch it-"

"Miss Kelly, I'm serious-!"

"And whenever someone tried to take it off you to wash it, you'd scream and throw a tantrum-"

"Sara!" What made her stop talking and the children burst out laughing was that L had picked up a small handful of flour and thrown it at her face. She gasped, blinking the flour away from her eyelashes and picking up a handful herself. L backed away from her, holding his hands up. "Sara… Sara, you don't want to do this, remember, you will regret it…"

"It's worth it!" she resolved, before flapping the flour at him. She immediately couldn't help giggling when she saw his face crusted with flour, the tiny grains of powder stuck to his eyelashes and the tips of his hair.

"This means war."

Very soon, they were having an inevitable flour-fight, flicking it at each other rapidly and laughing at the children's response (which was to gawk in fascination at their behaviour). The action became faster and faster until Sara lost her footing against a slippery kitchen tile and fell. She would have bashed her head on the hard, cold floor had L not caught her quickly.

Breathless, and face inches away from his, she smiled. L's mouth acted before his brain did.

"Falling for me already, I see."

Although she was surprised, she managed to force two words out. "Nice catch."

"Force of habit," he responded, helping her up to her feet again.

Realizing that they had an audience, Sara wiped the flour off her face and hair anxiously. He cleared his throat. She offered her hand for him to shake.

"Thank you," she said as politely as possible.

"You're welcome," he mumbled, shaking her hand.

"Sara," whined a six-year-old boy called Samson, "can you stay the night?"

"Oh, I don't know if I'm allowed," she replied apologetically. She looked at L, whose facial expression betrayed nothing. "Maybe if Elliot could phone L and find out for me…?"

After a pause and a sigh, L nodded. "I'm sure L could efficiently work without you for one evening."

"Thanks," she said warmly. "Come on, then, guys, let's get baking."

He didn't miss the strange look she threw him over her shoulder as she headed toward one of the kitchens. He was certain that if Jenny had been there, she would have been able to identify it for him. Perhaps he would ask her when they returned to London.

I won't waste your time with apologies - I do feel terrible for not updating. I was overwhelmed with GCSEs, prom and then a show I was doing (as Tallulah in "Bugsy Malone"). I honestly can't believe how time has flown by!

Thanks to those who reviewed last chapter: B. Asterfield, Wolfie, jupiter fruit, -chan, Irutah, CC and NameWithNoMeaning! You are lovely people who made my day with your awesome reviews.

C.