Aaand we're finally at the end! Thanks to everyone who's read and reviewed, especially those who have stuck with it since the beginning. Hope the ending is satisfactory in its incredible shortness, but if anyone notices any discrepancies or wants to know something I didn't mention or whatever please tell me so I can go back and edit. If not, please drop a review and tell me how I did. I hope you've enjoyed reading this fic as much as I have writing it :)

"L?" asked Light tentatively after a few moments of silence filled only with heavy breaths and the shifting of sheets.

"Yes, Light-kun?" asked L faintly.

"What we just did... isn't it illegal in this country?"

"..."

"Not that I'm complaining, but if we're here to solve crime, isn't it a little hypocritical if we break the law?" Light worked his face to its fullest advantage, eyes wide and innocent, mouth slightly pouted. Not that L could see him from where they lay side by side, staring at the high hotel ceiling, but knowing L, he could tell what Light's expression was with his eyes closed.

"...Are you making fun of me, Light-kun?" L asked eventually.

"Perhaps," Light smirked, rolling over onto his stomach to grin at L and push his messy hair out of his face, "but you make it so easy."

A slightly vindictive smile crept its way onto L's face, and one long-fingered hand crept around to graze over a particular spot on Light's left shoulder-blade.

"Ouch," Light griped. "That was uncalled for." L smirked evilly.

"On the contrary," L replied lightly. "It's too much fun to pass up."

A week had passed since they had cracked the case in England, and already they were in a new country working on a new case. They had both been a little reluctant to see the back of Wammy's House, and Mello, Matt and Near had looked crestfallen at the departure, especially since they had been utterly excluded from the conclusion of the case. It had done a lot to boost Light's popularity, however, when L had recounted his heroic wrestling of the gun from the crazed murder, a hyperbole adopted mainly for the benefit of Mello's overactive imagination. L had, in Light's opinion, showed considerable lapse in judgement, however, in taking the boys out on a final trip with the two of them; a romantic trip to the tattoo parlour.

"Don't I even get to choose the design?" Light griped as he was manhandled into a chair.

"No," L remarked cheerfully as Near examined the instruments curiously and Mello the sharp needles with unwonted fascination.

"Hey, can I get one too?" he asked hopefully.

"Go nuts," Near muttered half to himself.

"No," interpreted L hastily; this would be the one thing Near and Mello would agree on.

"Then why does he get one?" demanded Mello, jerking his thumb at the reluctant Light.

"Because it's my birthday, and I get to choose what I want, and I want Light to get a tattoo," L said firmly.

"Don't you mean Light-kun?" muttered Matt from behind his PSP; L's ears turned almost imperceptibly pink. Although the birthday thing was a cover story for the benefit of the boys, L had nevertheless made the most of the excuse and insisted that he get to choose the design which would forever etch the pulverised residue of the Death Note into Light's skin. Light, after some half-hearted argument, had conceded, more surprised that L had confided in him this little fact than he was annoyed that he was using it shamelessly to his advantage. Of course L was a Halloween baby.

This was the reason for Light's sore shoulder, and for the small black 'L' traced in gothic print on his perfect skin. In return, he received his memories, which L predicted would regenerate themselves in the same way as the pigment on his skin, even once none of the original Death Note-imbued ink remained. Along with that, he had received another gift, or more accurately, several more gifts. He got L, L himself, to live with and work with side by side for the rest of his life, which was far beyond his wildest hopes as Kira; no paltry goddess of his new world could compare to L in this one. Then he had power, the power to choose cases and chase criminals to his heart's content, something his life was incomplete without, as was L's. Finally, he had one single word, and the sentiment behind it, which meant more to him than anything else.

"Lawliet?" Light asked after another few moments of silence.

"Yes, Light?" Light smiled at the use of his own name, sans honorific, a smile he knew matched L's as his real name was spoken.

"Once we're done with this case, there's a report I was reading about a series of homicides in Iceland which resemble the blood feuds from the Icelandic sagas. Doesn't that sound interesting?"

"Hmm, yes," L mused. "But Watari rang earlier to tell me that there was a new case I've been asked to take in France concerning the theft of famous artworks. I hear that a Van Gogh was amongst the stolen pieces."

"Well, we could always split up and solve different cases," Light suggested, knowing full well how little this idea would appeal to L, whose possessive streak was surprisingly strong. Honeymoon period or no, it was too amusing to compete with L. "We could see who solves their case first."

"Light-kun, it is a very frivolous suggestion to wager on people's lives," L said disapprovingly, although Light knew this was just an excuse; after all, he had gambled on lives, including his own, in the Kira case, and both of their lives on the Ainswright case.

"Well then, which case should we solve next?" Light asked smugly, anticipating his success with barely suppressed glee.

"Both of them," L decided, equally smug. "Within a week at the most. But let's do the France one first; I hear there are some lovely resorts in Iceland, and once we finish the case, we could always linger for a day or two..."

Light knew he had been well and truly had, but he couldn't bring himself to mind, when the trump was one which suited him equally well. Their battles were usually fifty-fifty. He could win the next one.

"Mmmkay," he mumbled, snuggling into L's shoulder.

"Lawliet 1, Light 0," L murmured teasingly into his ear; Light had in one of his weaker moments confessed his inner scoreboard to L. "That means next time, I get to top."

"Bastard," Light murmured contentedly.

"Through and through," agreed L, sounding oddly flattered.

If this is how it's going to be.." Light began thoughtfully.

"Yes, Light?" L prompted after a few moments.

"...I think I could get used to it."

END