AN- Okay, I'm sorry, but I can't stand screamer bands either...and Atreyu...(growls), they stole the name of one of my favorite characters from The Neverending Story. Atreyu was an indian warrior and they just...rawr. That's a rant, and I'm not ranting in my An. Nope. Next chapter coming soon. -Kani
Light had not considered this when L asked him his favorite style of Music. Classical, he'd replied, as though it were nothing important, because at the time, it hadn't been. It was important now, however. Very important, because L was blaring something ungodly, something American… something that didn't qualify as music.
Light had never heard of a 'screamer band' before, but the constant suicidal screams, thinly backed up by drums and the molestation of a perfectly good guitar was insulting. It was more than insulting…it was serving its purpose, and keeping him awake.
"What the hell is this any way?"
"Atreyu or something." L responded gruffly, his head buried in his knees as the bass and singer clashed terribly as a climax. He hated this music, absolutely hated it. It drove him insane.
"Turn it off."
"Can you handle it?"
"I've been handling it for three days, L…just turn it off." Light was too tired to even sound properly infuriated, but he tried anyway, for his dignity's sake.
"I meant can you handle the other methods I will have to use, should I turn it off?"
"I don't give a damn, as long as I get to put that CD in the microwave."
"You sure you don't like it?" The baleful glare that answered him was all the encouragement L needed, and he dove for the computer. The silence that filled the room was unbelievably blissful. They both took a minute to breathe, and then L stretched, reading something on his computer screen. "You know…for someone with your grades, I expected more out of you."
"I never had to stay up late studying."
"That's right…you resisted sleep only to murder people." L glanced over at him, noting the way he held his head low, and realized that he was already half asleep. Rather than face that monstrous music again, he got up and crossed to the bed. Without a word of warning, he grabbed Light's arm and pulled him off, to the floor. "Up…we're walking."
Light's baleful glare robbed the room of oxygen, but L persisted. "Get up and walk. Now."
"I'm up, damn it…", and he was…somewhat unsteady, but on his feet. He was nursing a headache to boot, and he'd lost count of the hours since he last dozed in the car. L knew…trust L to keep track for him, remind him of his weakness.
L remarked dryly as Light stumbled to the computer chair. "It has only been seventy eight hours, Light-kun."
"What's your point?"
Finally irritated, L walked over to the desk and shoved the boy to the floor. He unlocked a drawer and began digging. "My point is quite simple, really…", He paused and made a gun with his fingers, pointing it at Light's head. "I have a gun, what are you going to do about it?"
Light stared at the detectives fingers, and then back at L. The detective never wavered. "You'll stare at me? Well, that solves the problem doesn't it?"
"L, what are-"
"You don't get it." L withdrew his hand, a real pistol wrapped in his palm. It wasn't loaded, but there was no need for Light to know that. He trained it at Light's head. "I have a gun, Light-kun. What are you going to do about it?"
Light continued to stare at him. He knew that the gun wasn't loaded…all logic went against it, but he was tired, and he never did trust the detective. "…Nothing."
"Why not?"
"Because I'm not…functional." He ventured, trying to figure out what L wanted from him.
"Ah…I see. So, because you are tired, and cannot think straight, I have leave to shoot you? Truly?"
L watched his partner frown, and rolled his eyes. "You are still not taking me seriously. There is a point to this, and while I am deriving a sadistic pleasure from putting you through hell, I am also trying to teach you something."
"What?"
L crouched down on the floor next to him, regarding him for a moment.
"That if someone really wanted to kill you, Light-kun, they wouldn't wait. So again," L pressed the barrel of the gun to his forehead, expressionless. "I have a gun Light-kun. What are you going to-"
Light moved, slapping the gun away from his head and trying to get a grip on it. There was a sharp pain at his temple that could have been the detective's fist, but then he was being rolled across the floor. There a hand at his throat, choking him, and with another crack, his head rapped sharply on the hardwood floor. He looked up to find L perched on his chest and then he was pistol-whipped lightly across the jaw. It was gentle, in comparison to what he knew it could have been…and would have been, if L were actually trying to kill him. His vision swam, adrenaline finally clearing some of his exhaustion away, but the gun was back already, cold metal dead between his eyes.
"Bang."
XXXX
Two weeks later, Light woke to frosty light in his room, the early gray of a dawning sun. It was one thing he did like about his cottage…it seemed to come straight out of a picture book. Strange really, to be trained in a place that looked like it should be in a children's fairytale…trained to deal with life-threatening situations and the unexpected. This was, in fact, why he had woken. His door had opened, and Light woke the second the latch cleared. Two weeks of intensive training, and he'd gotten perhaps six nights of sleep…none of them undisturbed either. The training was meant to lengthen his work endurance, prepare him to function the second he was pulled from sleep, as well as prepare him for the chance that someone would find them. Now, he could stay awake almost an entire week and still work at full capacity. It was absolute hell. He could tell the difference now, though, whereas before, he could have sworn L was just out for blood. When he woke, he was instantly alert. He could think and see clearly, assessing the situation. He found himself wondering if it would be a fight this morning, or if he was merely testing Light's sensitivity.
He opened his eyes, and named his 'attackers' position. "Foot of the bed?"
"Closer to the closet actually."
"Damn." And then there was no time for words as L tackled him. A fight it was then.
XXXX
"We should sort out possession." Light remarked from his desk in the loft. The entire second story was an open floor and office. The kitchen bedrooms and library were downstairs, with the laundry and L's array of servers and systems in the basement. The cottage looked smaller than it really was, and L was quite pleased with himself for his choice. It was thirty miles to the nearest village, and twice that for the nearest city.
"Agreed…let's start with the original." L pulled away from his computer to the table in the middle of the open space, rolling his chair over. Light did the same and they regarded the three note books between them. Today, they were just working, there was no training to be done, and the cameras and mikes were off. L had put Light into control of those, to ensure that his side of the bargain would be kept…no surveillance other than the training. Light started.
"My note…the original, marked one, was given to me by the Shinigami Ryuk. I released ownership of it and buried it when I was taken into custody. Later it became Misa's note, and I'd intended to have her kill you with it."
L nodded. "However, she did not remember my name… you decided to play Rem into the situation just in case, meaning that I would have died, had I not made you the offer. Clever."
"Thank you. Now, Because Rem killed my father and therefore herself, she released her note…number two. Note One, the original, was released when Misa was executed."
"Meaning I took possession of it when I took it out of the briefcase upon landing in Britain." L sighed, not at all happy to have the horrible tool associated with him. "Now…Number two…this was the notebook that Amane carried originally. The one that belonged to a dead shinigami?"
"Yes…his name was…Gelus, I think. He died to save Misa, and Rem felt she should have his note."
"I suppose a god of Death wouldn't think anything of handing off weapon like this."
"It isn't a weapon to them…it's just a way of life. Now, Misa surrendered ownership of this note, and Rem took it to Higuchi, of Yotsuba."
"When Higuchi was captured, your father was the first to pick it up, and he knew nothing of the 'ownership' rules?"
"Correct. However, that was fine, because it kept you off my back for a bit."
"I claimed this note while you were out getting Rem's…"
"Why?"
L frowned. "I am not sure…it was more impulsive than anything. I was quite irritated with you. So I am in possession of Ryuk's spare, and Gelus's note. Note Three, Rem's Note. You took possession of that when you found it in the hall after Yagami-san's murder."
Light twitched a bit at the word, but he was growing used to L's little stabs. "Yes, I did."
"And this was her personal note, meaning that because she is dead, there will be no shinigami attached to it."
"Correct."
The front door opened, and L peered over the banister to greet Watari. Light didn't bother to look or say anything at all. The old man was practically hostile with him, and they had rarely ever dealt with each other since moving here. Almost two months now, and the three of them had settled into some kind of rhythm again, learning to co-exist in this smaller space. Light had his own room now; though there were bars on his window…at least they were decorative. L was not taking any chances, and Light almost took pride in the fact that he was still considered a threat.
He hadn't made any moves yet…something wasn't sitting well with him. Light was not one to rely on instinct but even with Higuchi and Misa dead, he got the feeling that there was a piece missing…something he hadn't considered. His father was dead, and the Kira team had officially returned to work. Aizawa had been named the new director in his father's stead, and Light…Light had found his name listed under the casualty list.
Not that it mattered. It would only strengthen his case.
L leaned over the railing now, discussing the market with Watari. Light stayed back, out of sight. Watari tended to go silent whenever Kira entered the room…still, he couldn't help but listen to the two of them. There was a subtle change…If Light hadn't worked with L for over a year and half, he wouldn't have picked up on it. It seemed that Light's life was putting a strain on their relationship, subtle and well-hidden as it were. There was some level of camaraderie lost between the detective and his senior assistant.
Light really didn't care. He didn't like either of them, and he couldn't care less what they thought of him. He was here for a reason…and the old man's suspicions were likely well placed. It took all of Light's will-power not to smirk at the older gentlemen when he wasn't looking.
Overall…things were going well. Better than he'd expected…and now that he was here, it was just a matter of time and careful planning. With a final glance at the detective's back, Light turned back to his computer and his report.
