A/N Sorry…Matt seems really gay in this one. But uh…I suppose that's part of the point after all, isn't it hehe. Anyways, as you know, Death Note isn't mine – hope you enjoy this anyway!

"Can we have pie?! Oh my God, please?"

"As long as I don't have to do anything about it, you can have whatever you want," I sighed.

I was starting to wonder why I ever went along with this. I hate the holidays so much, Thanksgiving in particular, that I felt like such a hypocrite for celebrating them. Matt just seemed so goddamn happy about it all. Dead Turkey Day loomed over me a mere two hours away.

"Then I'm gonna go out and get some pumpkin pie, okay? Be right back!" He was goggled, vested, and out the door before I could even nod. I leaned into the sofa cushions and refocused my eyes on my laptop.

Somehow, though, I could barely concentrate. Which never happens, especially from October to January, and sometimes I can work straight through Valentine's Day. There's just something about the holidays that makes me want to ignore them. Everyone else buys presents; I buy leather. Everyone else decorates trees; I decorate the couch with laptop-covered self. Everyone else smiles and laughs; I want to shoot them in the face.

So it's usually during this time of year that I get the most work done, and I should be getting work done now, since this is pretty much the most important case I've worked on. Ever.

But despite the disgusting sprinklings of snow littering the sidewalk and the horrifyingly perky passerby polluting the streets, I was completely distracted. I gazed at the criminal bios, the murder reports…and found it difficult to care. I'd never admit it to anyone, of course, but that kind of freaked me out. The only things I've ever cared about (besides Lindt, leather, and myself) are becoming the next L and defeating Near. Right now, though, that didn't appeal to me much.

And I have no idea why.

"I'm back!"

Matt wafted into the room. At least, that's what it smelled like. He brought with him a box of what I could only assume to be pumpkin pie, judging from the scent that tickled my nose.

"Great," I responded. Laptop. Case. Must focus.

"Aren't you gonna help with the mashed potatoes?" I could hear the frown in his voice. "You promised!" Aaaand now I could hear the whine. Fantastic. Now I had to go mash some idiotic potatoes like some kind of Martha fricken Stewart. But what really bothered me was that that didn't bother me. It actually seemed a little…fun.

I let my mouth turn up on one side in a half-smile and pulled the computer off me, heading to the kitchen.

"Okay, fine. Just tell me what to do."

"Well, first you peel these potatoes, then put them in this bowl and take this whisk, and I don't really know what to do after that…just whack them a few times, I'm sure it'll turn out good!"

He was grinning in that oddly insanely adorable way. He's such a little kid sometimes! I couldn't help but tease him about it. I tugged on a lock of his stray hair, too soft to hurt but too hard to make me seem like some kind of girl.

"You're such a freak, you know that?" I tousled his hair before taking the whisk and ducking the smack he aimed at me in return.

"You're just pissed cuz I gave you the easiest job and I get to baste the turkey!"

"Like I really want to stick a tube up some dead bird's ass!" I snorted.

He held up his hands in mock defeat and raised his eyebrows.

"Hey dude, you do whatever you want in your spare time…"

I growled at him and lunged, spurring a very brief yet potato-covered food fight.

Once we finally got back to work, we realized that fixing a Thanksgiving dinner took a hell of a long time. It was way past midnight when I put down the spatula and actually looked at the clock.

"Holy crap, Matt – we better go to bed!" I dried my hands off and made for the bedroom, but he lingered a bit longer.

"I'm just gonna clean up here a bit, kay?" He was looking at me thoughtfully again.

"Sure." I decided to ignore it and just walk away. But –

"How come you never liked celebrating the holidays before?"

I froze.

Good question.

"Especially Thanksgiving," Matt continued, "you never liked Thanksgiving. Why?"

It took me a long time to think of an answer, and I hate to admit that when I finally did, it wasn't a great one…thought it's 100 percent true.

"I guess I never had anything to give thanks for," I said softly. Matt nodded at this as if he understood, and maybe he did.

"But then…this year…" He hesitated a moment, as if he was scared of the answer. "You do?"

I looked at him straight in the eye now. His ragged breathing told me that my response had to be more than just "Yeah, now I'm thankful for life and shit, cuz it's all good," or something dumb like that. I knew what he wanted me to say but at the same time…I wasn't sure he wanted me to say it! And I wasn't sure how I felt at all. I didn't want to hurt his feelings, but I didn't even know what my own feelings were telling me as I stared at his flawless face.

An icy pit formed in my stomach with my last word of the night, an androgynous word that everyone either loves or hates. Right now, I hated it because it didn't tell me anything, and it didn't tell him anything.

"Maybe."

And I walked away.

To Be Continued ASAP.