A/N; May I advertise the works of my wonderful friend Dotti55, she has recently begun writing and her stories are well worth the read. I hope that you will take some time to go and read them.

Please read and review!

Chapter 12

Matsuda stood hidden in the shadows of the garden, almost invisible if you had looked out the windows of the house before him. Though there was no-one in the house, indeed no-one in the houses next to it either. Yet, he was still ensuring he was being careful, his eyes set with uncharacteristic seriousness as he slipped forward to approach the house Mello had sent him to. The long coat he was wearing moving with surprising silence as he moved forward. Technically he could have gone right up to the front door, picked the lock and gone in. While not being the most legitimate of exercises for him it was perfectly legal. However he didn't think the local police force would take kindly to a man breaking into their supposedly dead Detective Inspector's house. Even if the simple white card with the L logo on emblazoned on it meant he had a legal right to be wherever he chose to be. However it wasn't written down in any law and that made Matsuda cautious, even if this was the police force that held L in the highest esteem.

He glanced towards the houses on either side as he moved even closer. He had seen their occupants go out, and indeed both stood in darkness, but he had learnt well not to take such things for granted. When you have the trio as your teachers and L's contact network along with the highly changed mafia Mello now controlled as their helpers... you learnt to catch even the slightest glimmer and learnt quickly. With a sigh he finally reached the backdoor and considered his actions, his caution running high through his veins.

"I doubt anyone can ever set traps and defences as fiendish as them," Matsuda whispered, his voice barely above a breath and he began to pick the lock on the back door. It was a Yale lock, so of course had all the intricate details that meant that they were nearly unpickable... however Matsuda knew better. The trick to picking one was to have Mello breathing down your neck. If you didn't know when he was suddenly going to appear no lock suddenly seemed like a barrier; Matsuda knew he still scared easily but he didn't see why Mello had to use it against him. He smiled in relief as a second later the lock clicked open and he was allowed inside. Somehow he felt like the worst part was done.

A few moments later and he was creeping through the house, a quiet laugh leaving his mouth. He was very grateful to whoever had decided the alarm didn't need setting. It made his life so much easier. Careful to make as little disturbance as possible he slipped through the house and up the stairs. His search of the bedroom was a quick, his gloved hands moving hurriedly over surfaces to find what he was looking for. Finding the hairbrush slightly buried under several magazines he took a few hairs from it happy to see that they had their follicles. He had been sent here for Detective Baker's DNA after all, without the follicles the hair would be useless.

Job done he stood and surveyed the room around him, the cluttered surfaces and the lack of anything that told you of the man's personality. It was a very strange combination. He took out the small camera he had secreted in a pocket of his long coat and began to document the room. He knew perhaps he should have done this before looking for the brush, but he had not moved anything from their original places. He knew he hadn't. He was careful to get close ups of all the surfaces and the titles of the books around the place. Most of the pictures would probably be useless, but he was well used to the trio finding meaning in the most unlikely sources to know to give them as much as he could. Any potential clue was always worth the collection of a hundred other useless ones.

He knew he had become a far greater detective than he ever could have been before the Kira case because of the trio. Their guidance and faith in him had made him surer of his gut feelings towards things, his emotive personality fit well with their logic. They had never took his apparent immaturity and ever present, and he knew now, often naive optimism to mean he was stupid. He might be their helper but that very fact alone showed they trusted him. They had given him the confidence he had lacked during the Kira case. So he did not worry about doing things slightly out of sequence, it had done no damage, and he did not come for fingerprints.

Deciding to complete the task he had opted to do he went round each room and took pictures of them too. It was only a small house though and soon he found himself in what had to be Detective Baker's home office which was almost messier than the rest of his house had been.

"Ah," Matsuda gasped as his eyes fixed on the computer before him and he realised what else he could provide the trio and he forced the camera back into a pocket before hurriedly searching through the coat for something more; whispering in a slight moan as he did so, "Where is it? Where is it?"

He beamed as he pulled a strange looking hard drive out of a hidden pocket, an almost octopus like array of cables fixed to it. He sat fidgeting slightly as he waited for the desktop computer to boot up, all the cables attached to his own hard drive connected to the computer. As the windows logo appeared on the screen before him the hard drive beeped and he knew that it had begun to copy the computer wholesale onto the hard drive. The trio would have everything at their fingertips should they ever want it. The whole process took only a matter of moments, and Matsuda was once again curious as to just what Wammy had designed to make the process so fast. It just didn't seem possible to him. He sighed and secreted it back into a pocket; he doubted he would understand even if Wammy did tell him. One of his continuing failings he felt was being completely stupid when it came to computers.

Checking that he had left no trace of his presence he left through the back door and relocked it. No-one would ever know that he had been there. With a smile of satisfaction he slipped back onto the street at the front and began the short walk to his car.

...

L sat staring down at his cup of tea, breakfast forgotten as his mind dwelled on the shocking events of the night before. It was all very well for Light to tell him not to worry about it, how could he not? His mind kept dwelling on all that Light could ask him tonight, or even do... He shuddered in his seat at the thought of all Light might be tempted to do now that he had this control. Last night had been proof enough that his partner had been delighted with this development even if he had been concerned. He doubted his cunning partner would just have an innocent talk with him, there had to be more to it...

Wammy sighed as he entered the room with a small selection of breakfast goodies and saw the expression on L's face. He could tell that something was bothering L, there could be no other reason why the sugar bowl sat untouched and L hadn't even looked up to great him.

"Good morning L," Wammy said softly, placing the tray down in front of his ward and sliding into another chair at the table, "What's troubling you?"

Wammy had to bite back a laugh at the startled look he received. He knew then that this was nothing to do with L's cases, his work with the trio. It was with Light, and was most likely something involving their unusual relationship. Anything else than that and L would have already told him.

"I see," Wammy commented, a small smile appearing on his face as L's eyes widened almost imperceptibly, "You have no need to worry about whatever Light may have said or done. He does all he does because he loves you. He would never want to upset you, so whatever you are worrying about cannot happen."

L stared at his guardian. There were times when his astute abilities surprised even him and this was one of them. The calmness with which he talked about such things also shocked him deeply, he was never quite comfortable with how Wammy viewed his and Light's relationship. He seemed fine with it, and he still remembered the box... but he was such a private person.

"L," Wammy continued seeing his ward's evident dilemma, his voice unusually firm, "Stop worrying."

L couldn't help but smile and he finally took a sip of tea, grimacing in surprise as he realised it was both without sugar and cold. A disgusting combination. He frowned as he heard Wammy laugh quietly.

"Will you drive me to the meeting today?" L asked, his voice soft as he fixed another cup of tea as Wammy brought himself back under control, "I need to arrive there for 2 o'clock."

"Of course, you didn't have to ask," Wammy replied, before continuing on picking his words carefully, "Do you still plan to dress appropriately for this?"

"There is no other way I could appear," L sighed, reaching for a chocolate filled croissant, "She would not believe I was capable unless I looked the part. I could prove I was anyway, but I do not wish to waste precious time doing so. I want to find her daughter Wammy."

"Will you want help getting ready?" Wammy asked, reaching for a croissant of his own as L gestured for him to do so.

"No, I have had enough practice with Light thank you," L said swiftly, "He always ensured I was dress 'appropriately' for social gatherings of all the local parents so our children had people to play with. I would be a poor student if I didn't know by now."

Wammy couldn't help but smile at the slightly despondent tone of his ward, but it was nothing like it would have been before Light's interference. The person before him had certainly grown up a lot in the past few years, it wasn't immediately noticeable but there was a change in his bearing and the set of his eyes. He had developed some of that lazy self assurance that Light always had, perhaps being out in the real world had shown him how easily he could do such things and he had gained confidence because of it. Whatever it was Wammy more than approved, and he was grateful he got to see his ward develop into such a strong man.

...

L sighed wanly as he pulled the brush through his hair trying, as he and Light had been for the past few years, to get his hair into some sort of order. He knew it was a losing battle, but he felt orderly hair would suit the role he was trying to portray... namely the role he had been performing since he was a child.

He wondered again why he felt he so desperately had to meet this woman, he had tried to rationalise it before he flew to the UK but now as he prepared to leave he knew he hadn't been telling himself the truth. Perhaps it was because he had a daughter of his own now and had already felt the loss caused by losing someone you loved, even if he had got him back again... perhaps he just wanted to share this comfort.

Giving up on his hair he turned to put on the suit. It was a beautiful suit he had to admit, Light had gotten it specially tailored for him so it fit perfectly. The colour was a perfect choice, a deep blue that wasn't quite navy that L loved, it was his favourite colour after all. Light had also been sensible enough to ensure the shirt didn't have a collar to annoy him, it also conveniently meant he didn't have to wear a tie. The jacket was cut in such a way that only a small section of shirt was visible anyway, a tie would have been next to useless and would have ruined the line of the jacket. So L had to admit there was nothing wrong with the suit and it was incredibly comfortable to wear, just as long as he didn't try to sit as he usually did in a seat... a nuisance but possible.

The real problem however was the shoes and the socks that went with them. He hated confining his feet; years of walking barefoot had made shoes too foreign a feeling, no matter how long he wore them for. He persevered though, with a child of four he had to. If he didn't wear shoes Eleanor wouldn't and he would never hear the end of it from Light if he gave their daughter that particular bad habit.

So he put on the shoes without too much of inner grumbling and stood before the mirror to check his appearance. Then with some reluctance he straightened up and studied his appearance, he looked immaculate. There was still something missing though, and gave a small laugh before going in search of Wammy, picking up his laptop case as he went. He was shocked he was going this far, but then he was never one for half measures.

He headed straight through Wammy's for the kitchen; he knew his guardian wouldn't be in his office. He always seemed to spend his free time with Ryuk in the old shinigami's favourite part of the house. He ignored the startled expressions of the people he passed, taking them only as a measure of how effective this outfit was going to be. He didn't think about what the reaction would be to his attire when he entered the kitchen though.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Ryuk said almost instantly, his voice filled with disbelief. L froze as Ryuk's shocked eyes fixed on him the old man looking as though he was about to hyperventilate at seeing L in a suit. To see the affable man stood there so shocked was quite the surprise, he was almost always seen with a smile on his face and an apple somewhere close by... or a cooking book.

"It's necessary for my work today," L explained, and then couldn't resist adding, "I have to pretend to be a detective."

"But you are a detective," Ryuk muttered, looking even more confused. Wammy stood to one side watching the exchange with a small smile, these were the two people he felt so protective of and he couldn't help but feel a small laugh bubble in his throat at Ryuk's still persistent innocence. Becoming human had done a lot to improve the shinigami's quality of life, the shinigami king had done him a service instead of punishing him.

"I never chose to look like one though, and never needed to before. Except now I find I need to meet a client," L laughed, before turning towards Wammy, "Do you have any glasses with plain lenses?"

"Glasses L?" Wammy asked, looking nonplussed.

"I think it will add to the look," L commented, and he frowned as both Wammy and Ryuk laughed. He couldn't see what would be so funny.