A/N: Oh my, thank you all. You've all been spoiling me with your kind reviews. I don't know what to say, you're making me blush.

Oh, and in other news: I got an acoustic guitar. It was a lot of money (One-hundred and fifty) but it's beautiful. It's an Alvarez.

Disclaimer: Let me be straight-forward: If Death Note were mine, L would be in leather, not baggy clothing. He wouldn't be dead, either. Ohma/Obata own that franchise. Lucky dudes.

"..So, I'm dead serious as I say this, but Mello was wearing a freaking bra! I am not kidding, L; don't give me that face—" Matt ranted on with raucous laughter as L and Near both turned to stare at Mello. The blond teen was beet red in the face, his hands curling inward in reflex.

"Matt, I was eight. And everyone was calling me a girl! I was confused, you know."

"Sure." Matt winked, his lips curling in a rather devious smirk. "That's what they all say, Mel."

As Mello let out a rather animalistic snarl, L couldn't help but smile again at the atmosphere. It was impossible to recall the last time he had ever felt this relaxed. He seemed to be enjoying his stay in England, despite himself. The oddest part was, he did not, for once, feel guilty over leaving the investigation back in Japan.

It was his first semi-"vacation."

Of course, he was doing what he had intentionally come to England for: he visited his charges and visited the crime scene. All that was left was the matter of picking out a suitable management in which the children could take asylum to.

L chewed on the pad of his thumb with a severe fervor. So deep had he gone into thought, that he had managed to go off on a tangent; thus, he was, at moment, thinking of a nice house in Kokomo. That was, until Watari barged in, panting and sweat-soaked, demanding in a placated voice that he speak to the detective.

L obliged, removing himself from his position in haste and following the man out of the room. It was there, in the hallway, when Watari began to speak in a hushed voice.

"L, I believe we are in grave danger," the man murmured, his eyes darting about every which way. The detective felt his heart rate increase, and his swallowed down some saliva.

"Why? Watari, what.." his voice trailed off as he noticed the blood that was soaking into the man's collar. It was then that he realized, but he was in too far a state of shock to accept it. "W, Watari, you're bleeding."

"Huh?" The man's wrinkled fingers dabbed the spot on his neck, before pulling away and sighing. "I guess I am. But, that is of no importance. We must leave posthaste."

L could feel it in his stomach, the way his innards were rolling about dangerously. "Who did this? Explain, now."

Now flustered, the elderly man grabbed hold of L's bony shoulders and gave him a violent shake. "No time. Beyond knows you're here."

That name, L sighed. It was that name that caused the detective to freeze up, and bestow upon his elder a harsh look. "What did he do to you?"

"It was nothing that could not be handled. He merely tried to hold me hostage and negotiate with me a plan to kidnap you. He made a fatal flaw, though. You see, after we got out of the car-"

"He hid in the car?" L's eyes widened to an impossible width when he was given a grave nod.

"Yes. It seems he's become a lock-picker. But, I managed to get away by, uh.." He gave a rather dreaded sigh, and L prepared himself for the worst. "It's rather embarrassing, really.."

"Just tell me!"

"Well, you see, when he began to unsheathe his knife again," he ignored the quiet noise from the detective, "fight-or-flight kicked in. So, I went for the most vulnerable spot.. I.. eh.. Kicked him in the testes."

L wanted to hug the old fellow for his embarrassment. He was too much of a gentleman for his own good. "Good. Okay. Er, then, yeah. We have to leave immediately."

Rubbing his face tiredly, he dragged his body back into the room. His body, all of a sudden, felt about twenty pounds heavier. For the first time, yet again, he witnessed pure exhaustion.

Boy, he thought with a rather sour face, he needed to get back to headquarters.

Mogi, Light concluded, was like a moving boulder. A large, immovable object that is rather dense at any given time.

His wrist was almost bleeding raw from the entire day's abuse. Unlike L, who was light enough so that Light could easily drag him around, Mogi was the equivalent to a small boat. Light found himself unable to drag the man around him in his wheelie-chair, and that the man would not react fast enough (most times) to Light's movements.

Though, of course, the heifer (or so Light called him) would apologize to the teenager every time Light hissed at him. That was what angered Light more: the man was far too polite.

So polite, the teen thought, that it made him somewhat suspicious. The teen stroked his chin, soaked deep within his thoughts and accusations. How could a man be so kind and helpful, yet not expect anything in return. Ryuuzaki would display staged acts of kindness only when he wanted something done.

Light rubbed his forehead tiredly. It was getting on his nerves; all he'd been doing, all day, was thinking. And saving Matsuda's ass from a Kira-like death. But, it seemed, everything he did followed back to L. Maybe he missed the detective.

Or, he thought, maybe he missed the intelligence. Yes, Light nodded, it was his intelligence. He was sick of the task force. Never before had he bared witness a larger display of intelligence. These men seemed to lose it without L, which irked Light to no end.

It wasn't like the pale detective did much when he was around. He would mostly just keep to his own and eat his sweets, while the entire team did his dirty work.

Of course, Light thought, Ryuuzaki kept them busy.

Unlike Light, who would run around with Mogi as the man printed out papers, L would mostly sit in front of his computer and make for himself a one-manned team. But, when he was stumped, or just felt like forcing someone else to do it, he would dish out several different orders for each and every man.

Also, Light grimaced, Ryuuzaki could put on a rather intimidating face when things went amuck. He was obviously an obsessive-compulsive, and preferred to have everything done the way he had predicted. Which, Light concluded, was why he was so terse with Matsuda.

Light crossed his arms and eased himself into a more comfortable position. All of his pondering was making his head ache. It amazed him how much L could think, and how many branches his thoughts could stem off into; and the man would never once complain of any pain to his cerebrum.

That thought alone fueled Light's thoughts back into motion. He needed to become as good as the detective. He was already a child-genius. All he needed was some good cases. It wasn't that hard, Light smirked, to be able to outwit L. Though, it was just the fact that the detective could predict the teen's every move. He had a scenario for almost every situation.

With a sigh, Light accepted the truth: he missed the quirky detective. It was obvious, he assumed. His first actual friend was thousands of miles away, so it was somewhat logical to miss the little jerk.

Of course, he didn't miss the sarcasm. Nor did he miss the sugar fetish and lack of proper mannerisms. It was quite possible he missed having someone to beat up whenever he was frustrated.

Light shook his head; he was not violent by nature. It was usually aforementioned detective that brought out pointless, spasmodic instances of violence in the boy.

"Whatever," he murmured to himself, rubbing his forehead. Out of the corner of his eye, he noted that the gesture had not gone by unnoticed.

"Light, are you tired?" Mogi tilted his head to the side, and moved his chained hand to scratch the back of his head. Said action only caused Light to jerk forward in surprise. "Do you need a break?"

"Yes," Light sighed. "A break would be nice."

A plus to L being gone, Light thought wryly: The numerous breaks that they all took part in. It seemed the men were compensating with the lack of breaks they were allowed when the spidery detective loomed above them.

But, then again, Light didn't care. He was somewhat enjoying the brief absence.

Devil's food cake, L realized, was a good comfort food. He felt as though he could understand why the female race seemed to resort to sweets when they were in distress. He had observed Misa when she stuffed her face full of chocolates when Light had accidentally snapped at her that one time.

Yes, he nodded as he licked his fingers; chocolate cake was indeed good for calming his nerves. He moved his bottom around on the cottony airplane seats. He had, after four hours and thirteen minutes, managed to piece together a proper establishment for the orphans, and had made it to the airport.

Currently, he noted, he'd been airborne for around three hours and fifty-seven minutes. The short time lapse bothered him. L was not a patient man—in fact, it was quite the opposite. When he wanted stuff done, he wanted it done. There was no time to laze around when you're in his position.

He could die at any given moment.

Death.

The mere concept of death made the man's face pull into a rather awkward grimace. Human flesh decomposing as the body shuts down, soon becoming a cesspit for maggots and other insects as they feed on the tender and rotten innards that once were held sacred in your body. All that persons dreams and ambitions in life dying with them as they slowly melt into complete nothingness as the years pass on.

L hooked his index finger in his mouth and pouted. It was apparent he needed to occupy his mind on something not so depressing. But, he could not help but stumble into the darker realms of his thoughts. He was troubled, after all.

The detective scoffed at the light terms in which he was assessing his current disposition in. It was more like he was caught in a game of "Kill-or-be-Killed." It didn't help that this ran true in two situations:

If Kira didn't kill him, the Beyond most certainly might. And, L thought with a wry smile, if neither of them did, the stress could give him a stroke.

It's useless to think like that, L concluded. He rubbed his toes together with vigor. Five and a half hours had passed since he had departed, but it still left him with a large time span to go. He'd never dreaded his thought processes before.

L stuck he head between his knees and cradled the back of his head. He was beginning to exhibit symptoms of a rather harsh migraine. This worrying was bad for his health. He had never had to assume and resume this much in his entire short lifetime.

It was rather disconcerting.

A nap was in order, L concluded, as he stood up on his private jet. He padded along the velvety carpet to the kitchen area; in which, he came upon a sleeping aid. He quickly downed the suitable amount of the liquid and gagged at the horrid, vile taste of the concoction.

Though, he reminded himself, it was for the best. He was sure that if he continued to think about his predicament, he'd surely kill himself.

With that in mind, he strode back into his seat and made himself comfortable. It was not long after until he began to feel sluggish. His mind fought to stay awake, but was being coaxed into silence as the "poison" began to kick in full.

Twenty minutes later, L was in a dreamless slumber—thumb tucked away in the cavern of his mouth and his feet sprawled out on the rug.

Light, who was in his deepest form of REM sleep, was violently disturbed by a shrill ringing of his cellular device. At first, his mind discerned it as part of the dream he was currently engaging himself in: in which he was sharing apples with some sort of ghoul. But, after three instances of the occasion, he found himself wide awake.

He gave the alarm clock a desperate look, only to note that it was four in the morning. He still had five hours until the entire team arrived, which angered him.

The tiny blue device began to chirp again, and a bemused and aggravated Light flipped it open and brought it to his ear. "Hello?"

"Light!" It was the loud, bright voice of Matsuda that echoed through the receiver. Light resisted the urge to roll his eyes and scream. "You need to get downstairs. Everyone but you and Mogi's down here!"

"Why?"

"Ryuuzaki's back early," was the cheerful and simple response.

It made Light's heart jump with excitement. The detective had come back already. It hadn't even been more than a day, tops, but he had finally returned after what Light thought to be eternity. He hoped he never had to lead these men again.

"We'll be down, soon."

Light didn't bother to wait for the response, and hung up. He turned his attention to Mogi, who was already awake and ready. It seemed that he was the last to receive the news.

It had taken but a half-hour for the teen to complete his rituals in a haste. He seemed to be hell-bent on seeing the detective again, if not only to relinquish himself from head of the investigation and part-time babysitter of the men.

"I don't see how he does it," Light muttered to himself as he stood in the elevator. He stared at the ceiling, which distorted his reflection back toward him.

"Excuse me?" Mogi turned to him with a look of confusion on his face. Light flinched, he had thought out loud.

"Oh, it's nothing." He gave a small, discerning smile. The man seemed to take the bait, returning the gesture and focusing on the doors again as they gave a "ding" and opened up to the main level.

The first thing Light's eyes landed on was ebony on stark white. Then he met the rather dead-looking eyes that held some life in them, for the man was clearly showing signs of amusment.

"Ah, Yagami-kun, Mogi-san, how nice of you two to finally grace us with your presence. I am flattered, really."

The sarcasm. Yes, Light shook his head, the detective was back.

"Oh, hush up, Ryuuzaki." He crossed his arms over his chest and strode toward the man with purpose; he didn't notice how he had easily dragged Mogi along for the first time. "You're the one who was obviously desperate to see us. I mean, you made Matsuda call me. Not to mention you're back about, let's see, six-days before schedule."

"I didn't tell anyone to call you," came the deadpan remark. Though, Light frowned, a smirk was forming on the detective's lips. "Matsuda was the one who blabbed that you were having so-called 'L-withdrawal,' Light-kun. He said you had been silent and moody all day long. So," the detective's lower lip jutted out and he graced Light with a rather pouty, childish look to hopefully offset the inevitable violence that would follow, "who missed who, exactly?"

But, instead, Light only smiled. "Eh, you caught me red-handed."

L looked taken aback at the sudden confession, which caused the younger teenager to laugh in response. "Must you look so surprised, Ryuuzaki?" He leaned forward to whisper in the detective's ear. 

He didn't notice the odd stare he was receiving from said man. "Honestly, I am grateful you've returned. I was about to go insane."

"Oh?" L took a step back away from the teen and nibbled on his thumb. "How it warms my heart to know I've been missed."

Light didn't know whether to take it with offense of gratitude (the man's voice was rather flat has he spoke). So, he decided to take it with apathy, more interested in watching the man as he un-cuffed Mogi's wrist and re-attached the cuff on his more slender wrist.

"Well, then." He redirected his gaze onto the screen of his untouched computer. "I suppose we've gotten this tiny reunion over with. Now, let us get back to work." He began to tug along Light as the teenager groaned.

Everything was back to normal.

Or so it seemed.

L was far more stressed than before. The task force had made quite a few discoveries. It seemed that it was almost certain that one of the Yotsuba elite was Kira. As he watched the tapes of the meeting he had missed in his leave, he was able to discern several members of the seven that were not Kira.

It seemed that Light had done so, as well. Which was good, L concluded. If the young teen could reason at a similar pace to the detective's, L could worry about someone else.

Beyond was stubborn beyond normal comprehension. It was a trait that he had picked up when he was the next in line to become the next L. When he was younger before, he had also been stubborn. But, when he was reasoned with, he would soon enough surrender.

Not anymore, though. It was blatant that the man would stop at nothing. L wanted to do nothing more than scream at something, someone. But, for many reasons, he could not allow himself such outbursts. He was the three greatest detectives that ever came into this world. Worrying over one stalker was not something that someone in his position would do.

But, then again, B was no ordinary stalker.

No, the man very well exceeded the realms that constituted normal obsessive behavior. Of course, it was perfectly normal to kidnap the object of your obsession, which B had succeeded, already, in doing. It was another thing entirely to murder and mutilate in order to reach said person.

And, again, he had gone beyond the norm by dressing and acting like L himself. Not once, in the many cases he had solved, had he seen an obsession quite like B's. It was almost as though it was some sort of illness.

Mistaken identity seemed to be the case. He remembered it with complete lucidity: Beyond had attempted to force the detective into calling the man "L." Of course, with his pride on the line, L had done no such thing.

Even after brutal mutilation to his body, and the severe pain he was put under, he had refused to crack. He had seen it in B's eyes; the man was desperate.

Beyond had been desperate to steal L's only true identity. And he might've gotten away with it, had the detective not previously escaped the entire fiasco by luck entirely.

Shuddering, the detective made effort to banish the memories to the back of his head. He was in no state to even think about what had happened back then, and he was in no mood to get emotional. It was a weakness that L prided himself in not having.

He glanced over at Light, only to notice the boy was staring straight at him. It caused the man to smile to himself, it really made him feel nice that he had been missed by another. And, it amused him that the teen was ready to engage him in a staring contest. It was endearing, in a sense.

So, the two wasted precious time by keeping at each other with blank stares.

It was amazing, Light realized, how fast a week could pass when every waking hour is occupied by one thing or another.

The days had gone by at a pace that seemed like moments. It seemed like an hour ago that he had been dragged into Misa's room by the detective and was forced into compliance by the two to act against Kira. It seemed like thirty minutes ago that Misa had burst into the room with audio evidence that Higuchi was, indeed, Kira.

He had also noticed, on a more positive note, that he had been ever-so-slowly building onto the relationship him and the detective shared. As of late, Ryuuzaki had been allowing himself to show the slightest bit of emotion to the young teenager. It made Light happy that he was being allowed the privilege.

In fact, it had made him excessively happy, which had shocked the teenager further. He had never felt this grateful to be accepted; maybe because he had never had to try. It was all refreshing.

But, now, all he felt was adrenaline. He was in a chopper being flown by the illustrious L, following a small, red sports car as it sped downward into the trap; skidding to a halt before the barricade of cop cars.

He was surprised, and so was L, that there was even a barricade. The detective had explicitly ordered there to not be any police interference. But, apparently, Aizawa didn't want to listen.

Excitement coursed through his veins as he heard Watari's sniper fire at the car, thus effectively ridding Higuchi of whatever the man had attempted to do. He glanced over at L, who watched the entire scene with an astonishing blank look. Light had to give credit where credit was due: the man was the master to hiding any and all emotion.

His father went into the vehicle and picked up a black notebook, it seemed, before turning to his left and letting out an unbefitting holler. He began to chant that there was a monster, looking for the world that he had lost his sanity.

It wasn't until Aizawa repeated the action that L demanded the notebook be brought to him at once. Light stared on as the detective gingerly received the artifact and turned to the commotion.

Then, Light saw it—a faint mixture of fear and surprise flitted though the detective's eyes as his lips parted slightly in a silent gasp. It was that moment that Light knew he had to witness this.

He made haste to snatch the notebook from the detective, who was still to shocked to respond, and before he could even believe the figure the stood off by the car, he let out a scream as he was flooded with memories that had been banished into his subconscious.

When L looked over at the teenager for the first time since, he was no longer staring at Light Yagami. No, it was not the friend he had managed to make. He was staring into the eyes of the original Kira.

He knew it, too. But, he as too rushed to realize as but seconds later, Higuchi was suffering from a heart attack, and L was filled with helplessness.

Beyond Birthday was not amused in the least. Not one thing was going according to plan.

He had managed to board his destined flight, when some annoying harpy of a flight attendant began to fuss over him. Though, with surprising difficulty, he had managed to do away with the woman and stuff her corpse into a large cabinet. He had also managed to don himself in her apparel: fitting rather nicely into her skirt-suit and bonnet.

He made a pretty woman, B smiled. With his lean and bony physique, he radiated the aura of a helpless, emaciated woman. He had worked his mane of hair into a reasonable do that framed his face and made the bags under his eyes look more like a smoky sort of eyeliner.

Though, it disgusted him when he received many lewd and perverse comments from the occupants of the airplane. If it were up to him, they'd be dead, but he did not want to start a scene 10,000 feet in the air.

Not even Beyond Birthday was that insane.

So he rather miserably bared he teeth and took it, before arriving in Japan. It was then that he stripped of the dress and put on his normal attire. He then took to the streets.

It was harder than he had assumed it to be to blend in. His Caucasian features and junkie-stereotypical look made him stick out like a sore thumb. When he tried to lure people into his traps, he received a harder time than the women in America.

So, he took to it the hard way: kidnapping. He would stalk his prey down to their house, and then steal them. Each person led him closer and closer to his destination, before he disposed of them in their very own vehicle.

To him, everyone was expendable. It was a matter of principles, anyhow.

But, it seemed that the cops were on his tail. Someone had noticed him, and so he had been forced to maintain a low profile. If he were caught, it would off-set his entire purpose.

It didn't help that he had to run from the police once, either. Though, the chase ended with him slaughtering the two officers and, in a bout of anger, skinning their faces and burning them. It worked like a calming cup of chamomile on the psychopath.

Thus, he found himself at the rather large and expensive building that the detective took refuge in. It was easy enough forcing information from the old man: it seemed he valued his life more than anyone else's.

Sneaking in had also been a breeze, seeing as though Watari had been forced into compliance to grant Beyond access without setback. Though, that was where the ease had ended, though.

It turned out that his little Lawliet had cuffed himself to another man.

That made Beyond boil over in rage. L had made it the utmost of importance to make everyone understand that he enjoyed his privacy. Willingly allowing himself to have his privacy breached made it clear to the murderer that the teenager on the other end of the chain held some importance to the detective.

Also, it meant that Beyond could not so easily take the man. His plan had been put on hold, because it would not be any sort of fun to try to sedate two geniuses.

B was patient, though.

So, he waited. He watched as his Lawliet opened up more to the Japanese teenager—aptly dubbed "Light-kun" by the dark-haired man. It amused him to no end as the two would engage themselves in endless quarrels and the like.

It provided him with leverage over the detective. And such juicy, delicious leverage it was. It pleased the man to no end how easily his job was going to be given the opportune moment.

And, a week later, his moment had come.

Something keen to the investigation had arose, and had been taken care of. Now, he was currently watching on as his pet was harassed by the entire team. He looked flustered, but resigned with a rather light sigh.

"Fine, then. I shall allow Yagami-kun his privacy back." Looking for the world like a kicked puppy, he removed the shackles that had bound him to the teen. It was then, and only then, that B wanted to scream with joy.

He continued onward, watching the teenager's reaction. It had piqued his interest to watch the teenager, because Beyond could recognize a change in the boy's demeanor. It seemed that the detective noticed, as well—he glanced at Light every now and then with a weathered eye.

It was orgasmic, B concluded. L looked like a caged puppy, more jittery and nervous than ever. Beyond was pleased to know that his prey was going to make it much more difficult. But, he had to move quickly.

Being a genius, and a killer himself, he had already deduced that (with help from listening onto the conversations between the investigation members) Light was, indeed, that "Kira." Oh, how depressed the detective was looking. B licked his lips.

This was it, Beyond thought, the time to act was soon to come to light, and it would be delicious.

Light was thrilled that his plan had actually worked. He had managed to outwit L. He, Light Yagami, had managed to toy with the greatest detective like he was but a pawn to his set. The only thing that kept him from breaking down in laughter was the abundance of people around him.

Though, he looked over at the detective, Ryuuzaki seemed to know something.

Light would not put it past the man to catch on. But, he told himself, it was too late to realize his error. The detective had put his trust and hope in the wrong person, and it would set him back majorly.

Of course, it hurt Light slightly. Light had befriended Ryuuzaki, and it had grown into a sort of affection for the man that was almost loving. But Kira and L were enemies. It was inevitable one would kill the other off sooner or later.

But better him than L.

But, he couldn't shake off the feeling of wanting to qualm the detective's nerves. He blamed it on the innocent, pure side of him that he was now forcing to lie dormant. Although, it wasn't working.

That was what made him drag the detective away from Rem the following evening.

Ryuuzaki had stuffed his hands in his pockets and stared down at the floor as he followed Light out into a hallway. When the teen turned back to the man again, Light noted that Ryuuzaki seemed to hesitate for the briefest moment before turning his gaze onto Light's face.

"What is it, Yagami-kun?"

Light flinched. He had never heard someone sound so tired and put-out in his life. It was that that made him wrap his arms around the detective—a move that put both men in a state of shock.

Light couldn't recognize that he was holding the man, when he should most surely be laughing in the detective's face. L was seemingly turned to stone when the boy made contact with his skin.

"..Light-kun."

Light gulped, but did not release his hold. "Yes, Ryuuzaki?"

"Why are you hugging me?"

Smart question, Light thought, straight and to the point. He felt terrible for the vague response of, "I don't know."

The "oh" that came from Ryuuzaki only made the situation even more awkward. Light shook his head and buried his face in L's locks. He had expected the man's hair to smell like graze and unwash, but was met with a light strawberry fragrance that made him scoff at the thought. L used strawberry shampoo.

"Look, Ryuuzaki," he finally released the man, but instead held onto his shoulders. L stared up at him unflinchingly. It set off Light slightly. "it saddens me that you are so depressed. I mean, you just look so tired and it hurts me to see you this way."

At that, he saw the detective's gaze look even more distant. "Is that so, Yagami-kun? Well, I apologize for making you feel such ways."

Light gave a mental curse; of course, he had realized, L was not going to fall so easily into his act. So, it was key to persist. "Look, L, I don't need your sarcasm. I care about you."

"I care about Light-kun, as well. He is my first friend, after all."

"Then why can't you act more, you know, friendly?" Light waved an absent hand around and met L's gaze once again. He looked generally surprised.

"I didn't know I had to, Yagami-kun. But, if you want me to, I shall try." Something inside of Light was pained by the toneless and dead response he was given. It was as if L had become a robot toward Light.

There was only one course of action..

He swept his head in and met L's lips softly. It amused him how unresponsive L was, because Light knew he had caught the man off-guard. Though, he did not expect to be punched in the gut violently by a seething Ryuuzaki.

"Light Yagami, how dare you!" L gave the man a kick to the chest as he recovered. "I don't know what kinds of manipulation you are trying to pull on me, but let me tell you that it will not work. If you think that by kissing me, I'm going to fall for you, then you're sorely mistaken." He calmed down, but did not move from his fighting position.

"I am willing to forgive Yagami-kun if he apologizes and realizes that I am not some female for him to release his hormones onto." It was deathly silent for a moment, until Light stood.

"Okay, Ryuuzaki, I apologize. It was a spontaneous and irresponsible move on my part." Light gave the man an apologetic smile, and made a stride toward the door. "It shall never happen again."

"No, it very well won't."

Light allowed the detective to enter the main room first; his mind was cursing his failed plan with a vengeance. It was a hasty and sloppily-formulated idea that probably set him back in his initial plan to ease L away from his suspicions. There was no false sense of security that could be given to L, anymore.

Light cursed, it seemed that he needed to act quicker than planned.

A/N: That kiss obviously meant nothing, Lol. And, yes, how shall Beyond react to said kiss, anyway? And why must poor L be bullied so? Because, that's why.

I honestly dislike this chapter, but it was essential to move the plot forward. Now you see that everything has been set into motion, along with the betrayal of our dear ol' Watari. It's sad, no?

I haven't been able to look over my chapters, so don't mind any grammatical errors that occur. I'll look back later, but I just want to present this to you guys, because I love you's all.

Review and tell me what you think, no?