L sighed inaudibly as he traveled down the busy streets of the Los Angeles. Watari's worrying never ceased to amaze him, and this is definitely a new level of paranoia. Sure, L had a bit of a sweet tooth. One that was a lot stronger than most. But really, what is the probability that his love for sucrose would actually prove hazardous to his health?

Very high, according to Watari.

This is why he is even in the City of Angels in the first place. Watari decided that, after the monthly bill for food came in at around one thousand dollars, L had a serious problem that needed to be addressed and taken care of accordingly. To put it simply, his caretaker has registered for him to stay at a rehab facility for the next thirty days.

Really. Rehab.

That's where alcoholics, drug addicts- things of that nature go. Was L a crack-head? Most certainly not. His addiction was actually quite innocent compared to some. But, according to Watari, if L were to contract diabetes and die, crime rates would rise by forty-four point five percent. Those statistics were painfully true, L realized, and decided that he would go along with Watari's little plan.

Thirty days. Really, how long could it take?

At least Watari had taken the decency to choose a high-class rehab facility. This is one of those programs that only celebrities and models could get into. L will certainly stick out like a sore thumb. He doesn't go to America too often, so he isn't familiar with the celebrities here. He could be sharing a room with the biggest pop culture singer in the country and he would be completely oblivious. Luckily, this facility is supposed to be famous worldwide, attracting all sorts of people. Only the best for the world's greatest detective.

It was also highly effective, apparently. Only five percent of the people entering the program came out still an addict. But obviously they have never met L. L is very stubborn. Once he has decided something, it's hard to change his mind. And L has decided that he will not shake his sugar addiction. The entire time he will be fantasizing about eating a slice of cake when he gets released. And he'll eat it right in front of Watari, as if to say, "You can't change my mind, don't waste your energy."

"L, we are almost there. Are you ready?" Watari's voice roused him from his thoughts.

L blinked blankly at the rearview mirror, making eye contact with his caretaker. "Of course, Watari-san. Entering a rehabilitation facility and losing my sweets for an entire month has always been a dream of mine."

Watari sighed, breaking eye contact for a moment before making it again. "You'll thank me for this, L. Trust me."

"Will I? I'm not feeling very grateful right now," L grumbled, shifted his feet over each other and biting his thumb moodily.

Watari's eyes flickered with amusement. "You're pouting like a child. Just wait until you walk out of that program eating like a normal human."

"Is Watari-san calling me abnormal?" L cut him off sharply.

"Just your eating habits. Everything else is completely fine," The car made a right turn through large, iron gates. Palm trees lined a polished, rock driveway and led up to a mansion-like building. An impressive stone fountain sat at the front, creating a soothing sound. It was definitely a high-class facility, that's for sure.

Watari parked the black limo in front of the entrance. "This is it, L."

"It is impressive," the raven-haired man allowed. "But I am still not happy about staying here."

"I didn't expect your feelings to change," Watari responded as he opened the door for L. "But like I said before, you will thank me in one month."

L unfolded from his crouched position on the leather seats to step out of the limo. "I hope so. I'm missing an entire month worth of solving cases."

"Consider it a vacation," the elderly man said cheerfully, closing the limo door and walking towards the entrance.

L trudged after him. "I pictured my vacation with a lot more cake and a lot less drunken celebrities."

Watari rang the doorbell before answering L over his shoulder. "This facility isn't just for alcoholics and drug addicts, L. It's for odd behaviors of all sorts."

"That's very comforting to know, Watari-san," L said monotonously, but the elderly man has known him long enough to detect the sarcasm in his voice.

Watari opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted as the door was opened. A woman rubbed her right eye sleepily, her eyes have lidded in exhaustion. Her blonde hair was put up in two messy pigtails on the top, and lipstick that she was wearing was smeared a little on her face. The black tank top she was wearing had one strap hanging over her arm and her matching black skirt looked a little too short.

"This is Twin Oaks Rehab, do you guys want something?" she grumbled. The sun, which was behind fluffy white clouds before, came out to shine in her face. She flinched away and stepped back into the shade, as if she had been burned. L deduced that she must be hung-over. Some rehab program.

Watari gave L a nudge after a moment. L sighed. "I'm Ryuzaki, I am registered to stay here for a month."

Her face brightened a little. "Oh, really? We've been expecting you. We're all part of the one-month "journey"." She put emphasis on the word and made a face.

L stood there in silence again, not sure what to say. Where are the staff? Surely they should be welcoming people in, not the hung-over inhabitants. The woman tipped her head to the side. "What's wrong? Come on in, no need to be shy!"

Before L could say anything, she grabbed his pale arm and pulled him inside. He glanced over his shoulder long enough to see Watari wave in farewell and close the door. He narrowed his eyes. He is just leaving me here? He was roused from his thoughts by the blonde. "By the way, I'm Misa. Misa Amane."

L raised an eyebrow. "The Japanese model?"

Misa beamed. "You know me? You're the first one here besides Light that actually knows me!"

"Really?" L tipped his head to the side and nipped at his index finger nail. "You are quite talented."

Misa staggered further into the mansion, motioning for him to follow. "If you think I'm talented, then you have to see Light. He's the most handsome male model I've ever seen!" She winked. "And he's my boyfriend."

L stood there, frozen. No particular reason really. Mostly the fact that it just hit him that he's going to be living with people like her for a month.

Misa giggled again. "What's wrong, silly? Come on, you have to meet the others! We've been dying to meet you!"

L gave in and walked past a spiral stair case towards a back room. "You knew I was coming?"

Misa nodded as she walked into a wide room. "Yep! We had to wait for you so we could start. Don't worry, you aren't too late."

L followed her into a spacious room with four long, cream couches. On the couches many other men and one female. They were all chatting idly to themselves. Misa flinched as she took a seat beside a chestnut-haired man. "Guys, keep it down! I have the worst headache."

A man with shoulder-length blonde hair rolled his eyes. "Because you got fucking hammered last night and now you're hung-over."

Misa threw daggers at him with her brown eyes. "Shut up, Mello! Like you weren't stuffing your face with chocolate either."

The brunette beside her sighed. "Misa, calm down. You did have too much to drink last night."

Misa's eyes shone as she attached herself to the man's arm. Even though he just said the same thing as Mello did, only politer. "Oh, Light. If you hadn't done with me I don't know if I could've made the thirty days."

Light rolled his honey eyes and shoved her off of him. "You're wrinkling my clothes, Misa. You know how I am about things being perfect."

"Whoops, sorry Light!" Misa laughed. "Forgot you're here for being a perfectionist."

Light crossed his arms. "Perfectionist. Please, there's nothing wrong with wanting the best."