Wammy House had only two official holidays a year. A month off during the summer and the two weeks before and after Christmas. During that time, students were encouraged to leave the establishment to spend time with whomever they still had contact with in the outside world.
Every vacation so far had been left with a few students who either have no place to go, or whose families are too busy to take them. But apparently this time was different. Every single one of Wammy House's wards had packed up and gone to spend the 'most wonderful time of the year' elsewhere.
Normally the prospect of not having to put up with the forty or so children running rampant around his home would have absolutely thrilled L, but not so this time, Because the fact that there were no children meant that the entire staff could also leave the premises. And it seemed that included Mr. Quillish Wammy himself.
Which left L all by his lonesome, the sole caretaker of Wammy's newest resident.
Crushing Quillish's note in his white-knuckled fist, L neatly contained his mini panic-attack from the child at his side. Up until this point he had counted on his mentor to be there for him. He had pictured the kindly old man being the one to provide the necessary care for Niri while she was in the country. Quillish would, as he always had, do all the dirty work while L hovered in the background, present, but never engaging.
And was he really so wrong in assuming so? After all, Quillish had practically made a hobby of raising children. L himself was a tribute to his endeavors in parenting.
And he had turned out halfway decent, hadn't he?
After all, since Quillish had raised L, Niri was his granddaughter in all but name, lack of shared blood be damned. The man had spent more time with L's daughter than L had. He had been the one to send the child support cheques, the one to fly to Japan on her first day of school when L had been tied up with a case, he was the one who actually knew how to deal with a child.
And now he had gone and abandoned L to a week of what was now to be sure chaos.
L knew he was being harsh on his beloved father figure, but it was all just much too convenient. The suddenly empty orphanage, the old mans last minute desire to spend time with his real family instead of preventing L from spiraling into an early mental breakdown, and the Yagami's sudden family crisis. It all tied together so neatly, and resulted in the conclusion that L should spend a week alone with the six year old daughter he barley knew.
He was beginning to suspect that Quillish was in cahoots with Sayu Yagami. Both had been hinting multiple times over the past few years that L needed to spend more time with his daughter, but up until now he had found halfway legitimate excuses to stay away.
But they had finally beaten him, damn them.
Kicking the heavy oak door closed, L led the child into the main hall of the mansion. L paused for a moment to savour the sensation of coming home. He had been out for five hours at the most, but traveling as much as he does, L had long since learned to appreciate every moment he had in the one place he truly felt safe.
He had already shrugged off his damp jacket and dumped it on the floor alongside his (stupidstupid) snow boots before he remembered that, oh yeah, the entire staff had been given the week off, and that included the housekeepers. L stood staring despairingly at the now slushy front hall before deciding that it could wait until, well…it could wait until later.
For now he needed to decide what to do next. Truthfully, he hadn't really planned beyond driving the kid home. Figuring that Wammy would take over from there and feed her cookies and tell her stories of the 'good old days' and other such grandfatherly things. Not that L would know, he'd never had a grandfather.
Or a father for that matter, at least not that he remembered. And even though Wammy had been good to him, their relationship had always been shadowed by business, just enough so that L would never have any qualms with putting his job before the man.
Which brought him back to the matter at hand. What was he supposed to do? For all of his immeasurable intellect, L found that his mind had gone completely and utterly blank.
So he fully shoved Lawliet aside and went into what Raito had dubbed his 'L Autopilot' Let's start with the basics, shall we, did the child immediately need anything?
She had likely not had a full meal in approximately fourteen hours, given the twelve hours it took to fly from Japan to England, as well as the travel between and waiting time. The airline would have supplied hydration in some form every hour and a half or so throughout the flight, and even though she'd been on the ground for a good hour, she shouldn't need a drink quite yet. But airplane food does not level par with the standards for the physical excellence of a growing child, so even though she would not likely feel hunger anytime soon, her body needed the sufficient nutrients provided by a square meal.
And there was the need to relieve her bodily wastes. She showed no outward signs of discomfort, no telltale fidgeting or distracted expression. But if she had indeed consumed his predicted amount of liquid over the duration of the trip, her bladder should need release. Though there were facilities onboard the aircraft (Boeing 777 models had two sets of lavatories available for the economy class cabin, at the front and the rear) but the toilets flush was loud and apparently frightening to small children, so there was a chance that she would have avoided using them unless it was an emergency.
She would likely also be tired. The time was currently 3:04:28 pm, so given the eight-hour time difference, it would be after eleven o'clock and she should be feeling jetlagged. L had trained himself to sleep while flying long distances, but he knew that most of the general public found the sound of the engine and sensation of flying to hinder the ability to slumber, so she may not have slept. It all depended on how comfortable the child felt surrounded by strangers, and her ability to block out her surroundings. The average adult requires between seven and nine continuous hours a day for an adult and nine to ten hours for a child. There was a less than ten percent chance that Niri had gotten that much.
Judging from her appearance that would be the first priority, L decided. His analysis had taken approximately five seconds, and in that short time frame Niri's face had cracked open into a massive yawn that tensed her whole body. And now that he was looking critically, her eyes were squinted blearily, and she had been noticeably quieter and withdrawn during the second half of the forty-five minute drive.
He would take her to the bathroom first, he decided. So she could use the toilet before he showed her her room.
Having a plan of action made the sick feeling in his stomach lessen somewhat. As Niri followed him quietly to the upper floors of the house, L conducted a half-hearted tour, pointing out such important landmarks as the kitchen, Roger's office, the playroom, and etcetera. The mansion was huge after all, and though L knew its every nook and cranny, he realized that most new arrivals found its labyrinth muddling.
The orphanage-turned-school was built around a sprawling Victorian era mansion that Wammy had bought with the payments from his first internationally successful invention. The original house was where the main living space was, while the numerous additions served as classrooms. Most of the outbuildings had been added in the seventeen years since L had 'graduated' at the age of fifteen.
L's room was on the top floor of the main building, a wing where students were forbidden to go. Wammy's room and office were there also, along with Roger's quarters and a communal bathroom. The rest of the space was comprised of empty rooms, one of which would serve as Niri's temporary home.
L left the child in the washroom and went to his own quarters down the hall to check on his system. A new lead in the SanFran Mafia Killings, one of the minor cases he was currently working on, had opened up, and soon L was deeply immersed in his work. When he finally looked up at the time he found that he had been at it for nearly three hours straight.
Standing quickly he dashed down the hall to the room he had assigned to Niri. He mentally slapped himself. It was only the first day and already he had forgotten his charge. Wincing at his carelessness, L opened the door and peered inside.
She lay on the bed sleeping, but for some unknown reason she hadn't climbed under the covers. Instead she sprawled on top of the bed surrounded by stuffed toys. Her small round limbs were splayed haphazardly making her look like a rag doll. Her chest rose and fell steadily in slumber, and as he watched a quiet puffy snort escaped her sinuses.
L flinched. It was the same. The same unladylike noise for which he teased Raito endlessly. How could it be? How could she be so agonizingly similar to the mother she had never met?
The early morning sun flooded into the bedroom, washing over her sprawled form and lighting up the auburn tints in her hair. Her naturally tanned skin reflected gold against the stark white of her-no his cotton shirt.
She had taken to wearing his clothes when the baby began to show. She would never admit it out loud, but buying maternity clothes made her feel like she was loosing some sort of absurd battle of wills with the life cycle. Now that she was nearing the third trimester, even his baggy tops were fitting a bit snug.
He rolled to face her completely. When Raito had moved in with him, she brought with her a very strict set of rules regarding his bedtime. If he expected her to sleep in his bed, L had to earn it. And earning it meant at the minimum, four hours in bed each night.
And no laptop. OR cell phone, iPod, walky-talky, or cake.
L had kicked up the reasonable amount of fuss. He didn't need four hours of sleep every night. While he was lying there idle, any number of heinous crimes could need his attention. It was boring, and what if he got hungry?
But when all was said and done, L, the greatest detective in the world, had a curfew.
But he didn't mind really. The time spent there with his sleeping wife was peaceful, and it gave him time to think uninterrupted. L loved Raito to death, he really did, but married life was still a little scary for him. He was unused to being with someone who knew his secrets all day every day. These quite hours provided an escape that L never would have guessed he needed.
So during the hours when he had no work, and no wife to take up his attention, L thought. Right now his mind was full of the looming event that was the birth of their child.
It was all that L had been able to think about lately. It had been hindering his ability to solve cases as of late, and he had also been sleeping badly, even for him.
It was not that L wasn't excited. On the contrary every time he looked at the growing curve that was Raito's abdomen, the thrill of anticipation hit him, as fresh as it had the day she told him.
But he was also terrified out of his mind. Letting Raito get through his social barrier and close enough to form a bond with him had been hard enough. And now, hardly even a year since there marriage and he was preparing to make another addition to his growing list of 'people-it-would-hurt-to-see-die'.
He supposed it was a bit morbid that that was how he kept track of his interpersonal relationships, but in his line of work, that was always what decided the difference between 'friends' and the general public.
And since meeting Raito, that number had increased exponentially. At first it had just been Quillish, and perhaps Roger. Not even his heirs had made the list. Then he had met Raito. Chalk one up.
And along had come Raito's family. Soichirou Yagami, a truly good person in a world full of imperfection. Even Raito, who L would sacrifice the rest of the list for in a heartbeat didn't measure up to the pure goodness of her father's heart. And Sachiko, caring mother, doting wife, the ideal Japanese woman. Not the brightest character, but she was kind to a flaw, and damn, did she make a good strawberry shortcake. And Sayu, the poster child for adorable little sister, she idolized Raito. And though she too wasn't academically up to his virtually unreachable expectations, she was a surprisingly wise person with an incredible knack for sticking her nose where it doesn't belong.
Only in L's eyes was that a good quality.
L had also grown fond of the others he had met during his time in Japan. Goofy Matsuda, gentle giant Mogi, forever exasperated Aizawa. They had all earned his grudging respect.
But the tiny not-yet-person forming in Raito's womb was on a whole other level, even from Raito. The thing that started out as nothing more than the simplest form-a bundle of nerves. That thing was him. It was him and Raito all rolled together and given individuality. It was the only blood relative that he would have come in contact with in his twenty five years, since his biological 'mother' had dumped him at the steps of a London nunnery just hours after his birth.
It was strange to think that in just months the lump between his wife's hips would be a living, breathing, wailing person with its own thoughts and emotions. So incredibly strange that he took a moment to marvel at the complex miracle that was the human body.
Raito shifted towards him in her sleep, unconsciously turning her face away from the sunlight streaming through the curtains. Settling again, she breathed out heavily, the sigh ending in a dainty little snore.
L smiled tenderly.
He closed the door softly and slouched slowly back to his empty room.
A/N: Chapter 2!
He's trying, he really is. But it'll take some getting used to for our poor angsty detective.
Did anyone catch last chapter, how I gave L the alias Holmes? I thought it was clever….a little…..ok maybe not. Whatever!
I hope my 'L Autopilot' sounded convincing enough; it's hard to try to think like a super genius!
Oh and, can someone PLEASE inform me how to do page breaks? I'd be very very grateful!