I ended up making yet another Brooklyn 99 reference here! L's line about the text message was in an episode I saw the other day. I forgot about it and actually thought I made that joke up as well! So unoriginal.

Anyway, here's the latest chapter! Thanks to all of you who are now following ^_^

Pickle

LIGHT HAD BECOME accustomed to surviving on little to no sleep whilst living at headquarters. Between the associated pressure of working on the Yotsuba Kira case and L's early morning interrogative antics, opportunities for rest had been scant at best. By the time he, L and Matsuda had descended the stairs outside Misa's apartment the next morning, pale daylight was already casting an ethereal glow upon the polished, steel banisters. In a garble of words which was mostly yawning, Matsuda bade the two young men goodnight and let himself into his rooms. For Light, his transformation to 'L time' was almost complete. Nearly devoid of internal clockwork, he agreed with the detective's suggestion that a quick shower and another eight cups of coffee would, indeed, see them through the day.

Before long, the pair were back at their computers in the building's central room. Whether it was the near-fatal combination of sugar and caffeine, or the successful efforts of the previous night, Light fell to rapidly reading the intel that had been gathered so far. L had divided the research on the eight suspects between them, before busying himself with a bowl of vanilla ice cream, chocolate fudge sauce and marshmallows. Above them, the wall-mounted monitor showed Misa lying full-length upon one of the sofas in her sitting room. Her face was covered by a magazine which bore an image of… her face. Every so often the model would utter a light snore, slightly lifting the magazine and giving the impression that she was actually awake and winking suggestively at the ceiling.

Soichiro, Aizawa and Mogi were each greeted cordially as they arrived at headquarters. All were impressed to hear of the progress made overnight. Soichiro, in particular, both congratulated his son and reprimanded him for missing his bedtime.

"Really dad, I'm fine. All it took was a shower and I almost feel as refreshed as if I'd slept last night." Light closed his eyes and exhaled calmly. "Besides, it's any chance to get a little privacy." He lifted his arm, allowing the handcuffs to jangle noisily, as though to illustrate his point. Upon the desktop, his computer monitor suddenly flashed white; the screen bearing the characteristic old cloister black W so often used by Watari.

"Privacy?" echoed the old man's voice through the speakers. "Why, no. Didn't Ryuzaki explain to you about the two-way mirror installed between the shower cubicles?" L seemed to have gone rigid in his chair.

"A… wait, what?" Light's head snapped round. "You told me that was a modesty screen!" Soichiro's eyes were enlarged alarmingly behind his square glasses.

"Ryuzaki-!"

"I know. 'What is the meaning of this?'" L fished out a marshmallow from his ice cream. "I'm sorry Light, but I needed you to be… as natural as possible."

"That does it!" Light leapt to his feet in rage, his hands curled into fists. Behind him his office chair spun away wildly, prompting Mogi to scoop Aizawa out of its path. "I second Misa - you are a pervert!"

"There's really no need to yell," L replied calmly, placing his spoon in his bowl. "It's nothing I haven't seen before."

"That doesn't make a difference! ...and when?!"

"Son, the truth is…" Soichiro shifted his weight uncomfortably. He sighed, and then meekly bowed his head. "Ryuzaki actually bugged our home at the start of this investigation. He had cameras installed in every room in the house. He even insisted on putting surveillance in the bathroom."

The whites of Light's eyes shone. His gaping mouth began to form words but only succeeded in producing a barely-audible squeak.

"If it's that much of a problem, I'll have Watari take the screen down," L offered blandly, holding out a placating hand. Light slowly closed his mouth, his eyes still glazed in horror. After a few moments of contemplation, the student nodded.

"F-fine..." Light's initial expression of shock suddenly seemed to darken. "In fact... you know what? Good! It's about time I saw you naked! " Matsuda, who was just coming down from his room, froze upon the stairs open-mouthed. Shaking his head, dumbfounded, he tottered back to the floor above.

"Actually…" L had resumed eating his ice cream. "I shower in my clothes."

"That's enough," Soichiro scolded them. "You can sort this out in your own time. There's still work to do!"

"There was something else, Ryuzaki," Watari's voice floated out to them once more. "It seems that Aiber and Wedy ran into difficulties at Higuchi's property. Allegedly, his home was recently installed with a super high tech security system and, unfortunately, an alarm was tripped."

"That's not good," L muttered in a deflated voice, "not only does it raise my suspicion of Higuchi, it means those two both need to lay low for a while. Aiber's family will have to go back to their casting agent." He heaved a sigh and let his spoon fall back into the bowl with a clang. "So much for avoiding detection..."

"Guess they'll have to change the movie to 'Caught Me 'Cause You Could,'" Light remarked dryly. Meanwhile, L's eyes remained hooded in impatience.

"Light, please don't mock the criminals. It's tacky, and it just makes me suspect you more."

x-x-x

With much the same momentum that the case had been built, the investigation team's early gains began to fall away one by one. If Aiber and Wedy's setback had not proven enough of an inconvenience, further frustrations arose when Aizawa, Soichiro and Mogi returned from their individual assignments with nothing of significance to report. L had instructed the detectives to begin by tailing each of the three key suspects. However, it transpired that neither Higuchi, Takahashi nor Hatori seemed to deviate from their daily schedules. The Yotsuba employees spent an inordinate amount of time at the office, only leaving to grab a take-out lunch or to eventually return home in the evenings. Higuchi and Takahasi were observed attending their local gym; Hatori, meanwhile, claimed to prefer a leisure centre closer to home. Later, this emerged as a cover story for his secret attendance at an evening pottery class.

The team's dwindling progress finally ground to a halt after L, Light and Matsuda had watched a further five hours of surveillance from the offices of the eight vice presidents, all to no avail. From the lack of evidence gathered it was beginning to look as though the detectives had finally reached a…

"...don't say it," L cut in, leaving Matsuda to gape wordlessly, "don't even think about those two words during an open investigation."

"But what if we were-"

"Rule two," L reminded him. "I am never wrong. The evidence is out there. We're just looking in the wrong place…" He lifted his head, grey eyes drifting wonderingly upwards. Then, when L spoke again, his voice had faded to no more than a whisper. "...or perhaps we've got the wrong people looking..."

With that the detective leapt from his chair and strode over to the staircase. Behind him came a strangled yell; the handcuffs' chain had been pulled taut, dragging Light's chair violently forward and hurling the student to the floor.

Misa's door was unlocked from the previous night, permitting L to stroll in quite casually with a perplexed-looking Light, ironically, as his shadow. The former stood behind Misa's head, stooped, and plucked the magazine from where it covered her face. Screwing up her eyes against the sudden onslaught of brightness, Misa groaned and flung out an arm in confusion. As she drew her hand back across her face, blinking tiredly, she was met with a pair of dark, sunken eyes. Hovering behind L, Light attempted to smile reassuringly but only managed a feeble grimace.

"Misa Amane. I… never properly thanked you for your help with the investigation so far."

Misa stared up at him as though wary of how exactly L was planning to thank her. It did not help matters when the detective leaned over the edge of the sofa, prompting Misa to cringe into the cushions beneath.

"Oh! Don't mention it… heh."

"No really, you've been a big help," L continued, despite Light's efforts to rein him in with the chain, "not only did you gain access to Yotsuba's Tokyo Office but you secured a modelling contract with the company. This puts you in a very advantageous position."

"Well yeah!" With her sudden shock subsided, Misa rose into a sitting position and swivelled round to face the detective. "And do you remember sulking because of it? Even when I bought you doughnuts?"

"That's not the point…" Light broke in. He glanced between them, a few coils of chain now wrapped in his arms in an attempt to keep L on a short leash. "What are you getting at, Ryuzaki?"

"Misa, would you be willing to help out again?" L pressed on as though Light had not even spoken. "It would mean a lot to us." Then, with a turn of his head, he added. "And to Light especially."

"Of course!" Misa touched a finger playfully to her lips. "You know I would say yes to anything if it was for Light. And I mean anything." Light looked nervously towards the doorway, as though expecting his father and the entire Task Force to burst through it with sordid accusations. Next to him, a low, eerie laugh escaped L.

"In that case…" With one bare foot upon the sofa, L leaned into a half-crouch; Misa retreated backwards onto the next cushion. "I would like you to befriend someone from Yotsuba - Aroyoshi Hatori. As you may know he's the VP of Marketing and so, of the eight men, he's the most likely to cross paths with the newly-hired face of the company."

"You want me to befriend him? Really?" Misa wrinkled her nose in derision. "Ugh, he's so sweaty..."

"Yes. Regardless of his bodily excretions, I'm sure you could make an excuse to meet with him. You could angle for an invite to lunch and then, once you've got him alone, you'll be in a position to earn his trust..." In his eagerness, L had climbed right onto the sofa to gaze earnestly at the young model. Meanwhile, all the air seemed to leave Misa in one long, angry hiss.

"I'm not going out with him! I would never cheat on Light." She folded her arms resolutely across her lap. L remained both unblinking and impassive; behind him, Light allowed his grip on the chain to slacken.

"I've gotta say, I agree with Misa. You can't pimp her out like that! It's not right."

"Oh Light!" Misa clutched at her sofa cushion and sighed loudly. "It's so hot when you get all jealous…"

Light's brow furrowed slightly. He blinked, then gave a small, confused shake of his head. "Oh! You mean… yeah... jealous. Sure."

"Misa…" L's hypnotic eyes bored into her own. As he spoke, his voice became softer, mistier, as though taking on the tone of a narrator in a children's story. "Have you ever thought about what will happen when we catch Kira...? Once he's in custody, it will mean that these handcuffs can finally be removed. You'll get Light all to yourself again. Just imagine that-"

"I'll do it!" Misa cried out, her nails embedded in the sofa's seat.

"Ryuzaki!"

"But I am not getting physical with this Hatori guy!" Misa was on her feet now, her finger waving in proclamation. "I draw the line at hand-holding." L regarded her as she paced the room, his mouth curled in moderate satisfaction.

"We can negotiate that later I suppose."

"Negotiate? Um, it's nothing to do with you!" Misa swung round towards Light, her face breaking into a wide smile. "This is all for the man I love. And I couldn't handle it if that wasn't Light."

"Yes, it would be too heavy."

"Really?" Light groaned as the detective smiled down at his feet.

x-x-x

Later that afternoon, Misa returned from her photoshoot for Yotsuba. As the model walked stiffly through the lobby doors, arms held awkwardly at her sides, it was Light who turned his chair around to her first. L was crouched upon a seat to the left, his phone to his ear.

"Hey Misa. Sorry, we've just had an update. The CEO of M&M World was hit by a blimp and pronounced dead at the scene." Here, he swivelled round to glare pointedly at L. "...an incident which could have been avoided if someone had just let me make one call."

Clasping his phone to his hand, L hissed angrily at Light.

"And, as I keep telling you, we can't prove anything until these murders actually happen! Now we have that proof." The detective replaced his cell phone to his ear and rolled his chair away from the student.

"Sorry about that Watari. Yes? Stock prices have already plummeted? I imagine they'll start to sell off merchandise in bulk over the next few days then. Mmm. Understood. I'll need one kilogram of blue." He brought the phone down into his hands once more.

"Light, Misa… what colour M&Ms do you like?"

"I need to talk to you," Misa spoke finally, her voice trembling. L cut off his call with a bip and glanced between Light and Misa, his expression most grave.

"So, Hatori wasn't on the set this afternoon, but I managed to get his number from one of the assistant managers." She brought out her own flip phone from the pocket of her skirt and held the device up so that both could inspect the screen. "Look what he sent me."

Light's eyebrows disappeared into his hair.

"The number eight followed by an excessive amount of subtraction signs..." L mused aloud, taking his widened eyes from the phone to look questiongly at Misa. "Why would he send such a wildly inaccurate equation?"

"Aw, Ryuzaki! You're so sweet," Misa cried softly. She cupped his chin gently in her hand and placed a single kiss upon his forehead.

"Seriously? How can you not see it?" Light broke out incredulously at the detective, whilst L touched at his head in shocked disbelief.

Despite the crudity of Hatori's message, the text came as an encouraging confirmation of his interest in Yotsuba's recently-hired model. Whilst Soichiro and Aizawa were due to continue their observations of Takahashi and Higuchi respectively, the other detectives organised their own plans for the following day. Lunch reservations were made; Misa laid out a dress capable of concealing a wire whilst showing off other assets, and L batted the model with a rolled cone of paper until she gave convincing answers to his many rehearsed questions. Finally, at the end of almost twenty-four hours of solid work, Light, Matsuda and Mogi were briefed on their surveillance positions for the operation. The only remaining task was to establish an agreed-upon, covert signal for backup.

"Got it. At the first sign of danger, I have to say 'I'd like some pickles,'" Misa recited perfectly. She looked to L, expecting lukewarm praise but, instead, found the detective transfixed in horror.

"What...?"

"T-that's good. It's just... heh," he stammered faintly, "I finally solved that... equation."

x-x-x

The next day, Misa felt as though she was passing through a solid wall of heat as she entered the doors of the restaurant. Its walls were a garish, yellow colour and adorned with a bizarre assortment of coloured crockery. The establishment professed itself to offer a fusion of Japanese and Mexican cuisine but, judging from the peculiar combination of smells which assaulted her senses, the restaurant seemed to have failed in its appreciation of either culture.

Misa clutched her bag to her knees nervously, her eyes sweeping the arrangement of tables. She finally spied Hatori seated near the window, wiping his hand against his glistening brow before delving into the chips which had been left on their table. As Misa approached, Hatori's pouched eyes turned upon her, his drooping mouth lifting into a half-smile of recognition.

"Hi. Nice to see you again," she spoke in a small voice, folding into a courteous bow.

"You too. Wow, Misa - you look great!" Hatori half-rose from the table, stopped to wipe a moist hand on his grey trouser leg, and then extended an arm out to her.

"You look…" Misa's lips pursed as her hand clutched the wet skin of Hatori's, "...is it hot in here?"

"Maybe. I don't know, I'm always warm for some reason. I like this place though, they do the best dumpling enchiladas." Hatori resumed his seat and passed a sticky, laminated menu over to Misa. "Shall I order us some drinks?"

"I don't know… aren't you working?"

"There's nothing in the Yotsuba policy that says you can't have a drink with lunch! And not just any lunch - a date with Misa Amane!" Hatori smiled so that dimples creased the corners of his mouth. Turning to a passing waitress he called out - "Two rum punch buckets please!"

"Oh, I'm not that much of a big deal," Misa muttered, her hands clasped tightly upon her knees.

"Maybe not yet! But you're working for Yotsuba now. We should celebrate!" Hatori leaned forward, his hand reaching across the crumb-strewn table. "I hope you know, even if you hadn't texted me, I would have taken you to lunch anyway to congratulate you..."

"Aw, that's sweet." Misa smiled down at her lap.

"I'm sorry... that sounded stupid." Hatori exhaled glumly and withdrew his arm, slumping forward with elbows upon the table. "I don't do this often... I even had to ask the others how to text you. Higuchi said to raise your expectations, but I'm just gonna end up a disappointment..."

Not at all!" Misa forced herself to sit upright. "I'm glad we're here. And, for me, coming to Tokyo was a good move." As though perfectly on cue, the waitress returned with drinks. The description had hardly been misleading - two great glass steins were placed down on the table, each filled with a lurid, burgundy liquid.

Hatori had already seized his glass to take a great swig, which he swallowed hastily. "Y-yeah, so you only moved here recently?"

"There's not much to tell really. Until a couple of months ago I lived in Kyoto. I moved here 'cause I wanted to break into the modelling industry." She lifted her own glass to try the rum and recoiled immediately at the taste. "Eugh… Anyway… there's another part to that story but… I don't know whether I should say..."

"You can tell me," Hatori replied, lifting his menu once more. "If you want to... Hey, do you like sticky ribs?" Misa gave a theatrical sigh and tossed her hair over her shoulder.

"Maybe I should drink this first…" She attempted to swill her glass casually but almost dropped the heavy stein in the process. "Or perhaps you should tell me something about you! How long have you worked for Yostuba?" Hatori, who had turned in his chair to wave over the waitress, hesitated.

"...five years now? Yeah, my old man got me a job in the mailroom and then I worked my way up into marketing."

"You've done pretty well to become a Vice President," Misa sidled forward, propping her own elbows upon the table, fingers intertwined as she gazed at him with interest.

"Oh, yeah! I guess." Hatori lowered his menu, his expression one of pained embarrassment. "I dunno. My brother was always the real entrepreneur of the two of us. But Vice President at Yotsuba is pretty good too. I mean, the money's great! And I work with some good guys." He nodded to himself. "We have fun. Heh, like the time they jammed all the drawers in my desk? Or when they found out I was taking a pottery class and gatecrashed it?"

"That sounds mean..." Misa spoke, for the first time entirely forgetting herself.

"No, it was funny!" Hatori assured her with a wave of his greasy hands. "Takahashi made me act out the scene from Ghost with him. We're always goofing off like that. Anyway, how about those ribs?"

"You're not intimidated by them...?"

"No, they're just friendly pranks! I mean, sometimes it's hard to say no to Higuchi and Ooi but… they're my best friends." Hatori turned to seek out a passing waitress, leaving Misa to adjust the collar of her dress, and the wire hidden beneath. "Anyway, what about you? You said you just moved here... where's your family?"

"...my parents are dead. They were murdered."

"Oh," Hatori faltered, horrified. "Wow... I am so sorry Misa. If it helps, my dad is pretty sick-"

"They were killed during a burglary," Misa continued reciting the lines as she had rehearsed them with L. "It's actually the other reason I moved here." She paused and uttered a small, pitiful sound. "Oh, I really want to tell you! I'm just worried about what you might think of me."

"Wa- I think you're amazing!" Hatori blurted out. "You can tell me anything, Misa." The model lifted her drink to her lips again, cringing at the taste.

"I was at a really low point at the time okay? I'm in a much better place now. Just remember that." For a moment, Misa seemed to still her breathing. Then she continued in a barely-audible whisper, forcing Hatori to lean closer.

"Okay… I came to Tokyo because I was looking to meet Kira. You see, he killed my parents' murderer. When it got out in the media that Kira was based here, I moved from Kyoto. I think, for a moment, I kind of fell for the hero who had brought me justice." At that, she flinched and shook her head emphatically. "But not anymore!" She looked up; Hatori had abandoned both his menu and his rum drink.

"That is a great story," he breathed. "All this Kira stuff is pretty scary though. I kind of thought at first it might be a good thing, but it does seem to be getting out of hand now..." He shifted nervously, glancing about himself. "But don't worry Misa, I'll never tell anyone about you liking Kira!" Hatori's mouth twitched into a half-smile; Misa allowed her eyes to flutter closed.

"Thank you… I knew… you'd understand." When she opened them, she was struck by Hatori, whose face had turned blotchy and crumpled.

"...I wish I was as easy to fall for as Kira." Hatori dropped his head to gaze down dejectedly at his lap. "...I'm still not even sure why a girl like you wants to see a loser like me."

"Don't say that..."

"Come on. I'm not funny. I sweat when I eat. And there's nothing impressive going on here-" He gave a wide wave of his hand, indicating his face and torso before gesturing vaguely beneath the table, " if you know what I mean…"

"I think you're funny!" Misa contradicted him brightly. Struggling to suppress a wide smile, she lifted the menu to conceal her swelling laughter. "A-and I know a lot of girls who like pickles…!"

Alerted to their table, a waitress approached to take their food order. The assurance of a warm bowl of sticky ribs seemed to have dispelled Hatori's melancholy. It was as Misa began to order an edamame taco salad, that her companion frowned over at the doorway.

"Hey, isn't that your manager?"

Matsuda was frozen with one foot over the threshold of the restaurant. He attempted to quickly double back on himself, the resultant effect akin to a man trapped inside an invisible revolving door.

"Mr Matsui?"

Defeated, Matsuda circled back round and, with a fixed, grim expression, approached their table. With an impatient noise, the waitress turned on her heel and strode away.

"Misa Misa!" Matsuda tried cheerfully, offering both a small, awkward wave, "and this must be Mr…"

"Hatori." This time Hatori did not hold out a hand, instead turning to Misa. "I didn't know you'd invited your manager. I thought this was…"

"It is!" Misa cried with a playful flick of her wrist, "Haha! Why would I invite my manager on a date?" Matsuda joined in with her nervous laughter, his hand reaching for the back of his head.

"Heh heh. So, did someone mention pickles… or...?"

"But if you didn't invite him…" Hatori continued, pale eyes darting between them both. "...how did he know you were here?"

Matsuda and Misa exchanged a startled glance, then lapsed into renewed, simultaneous tittering.

"I... was coming here anyway! To… to meet friends." Matsuda glanced about himself as though expecting such companions to materialise from thin air. When nobody appeared, he gave a vague sweep of his arm. "Well, I'd better go grab a table-"

"No. Wait with us til they arrive," Hatori offered, indicating an empty seat at their table. Unmoving, Matsuda blinked back at him, then looked to Misa. He swallowed hard.

"I insist." Hatori pulled out the chair invitingly. "It'll be good to chat, won't it Mr Matsui?"