Feline Faults
ChipsAhoyPup
Disclaimer: I don't own Death Note. Never have, never will. (This doesn't stop me from wishing I did, though.)
A/N This is probably the first chapter I've done that isn't really following L. Instead, it's focused more on Near and Mello. I apologize for that, since I'm sure most of you would rather find out what happened to L. But, hey, these two advance the plot a lot more than L would at this point.
Warning: there's bad language in this chapter. Mello's a bit of a potty-mouth.
As Gevanni left, the plastic bag that had previously been wrapped delicately around the cat's neck drifted to the ground. Near stared, then inched towards it cautiously, as if there might be a grenade in the bag that would explode as soon as he close enough.
When he finally advanced enough to be able to reach it, he shoved his hand into the bag. The first thing he pulled out was a camera. He inspected it closely. He had an urge to rip out the little battery box in the back, in case there was an explosive instead of batteries. But he dismissed the idea. He was just being paranoid. After all, who would put a rigged camera in a plastic bag around a cat's neck?
The albino dug through the bag once more. His fingers grabbed hold of a piece of paper instead of a chunk of plastic this time. When he pulled it out, he did a double take. There, in his hand, was a picture of himself.
"Why would a cat have a picture of me?" Near muttered to himself, wrapping a lock of dove-white hair around his pointer finger. Wondering if there was anything else useful in the bag, he grabbed it and held it upside down, dumping out the remaining contents. He was fairly disappointed when all that came out was a rolled-up map.
"The only revealing piece of evidence is this picture," He said, holding the picture as close to his eyes as possible. "I only know of two people who would be able to obtain a picture of me. And I doubt Roger would go to such extreme measures to injure me. So that only leaves…"
A certain blonde was tossing kibble to his hyperactive dog. Matt would leap up and, with acute precision, catch the small edible object in his jaws each time one was thrown. His landing, however, was not so graceful. His front paws would hit the ground, and he'd instantly lose his balance. Then his hind paws would flail around in the air before he tumbled forward into a furry yellow-brown heap of fur.
Just when Mello was about to throw the fourth piece of kibble, the telephone rang. He blinked, carelessly dropping the dog treat. He turned and headed towards the telephone, the sound of Matt clumsily charging at the fallen food echoing behind him.
"Hello?" Mello said as soon as he put the phone against his ear.
"Hello, Mihael Keehl." Mello stiffened. He was almost never called by his full, real name. And the cold, familiar voice made him even more tense.
"Nate River," The blonde growled through gritted teeth. "What do you want?"
"It would appear that you've sent a cat after me," Near stated calmly. It wasn't even a question.
"What makes you say that?" Mello asked as innocently as possible, quickly putting up a facade. Matt was sitting by his side now, panting and staring up loyally at his master.
"First of all, you're the only one who would hold enough of a grudge against me to do something so pathetic." Mello glared at thin air. How dare Near call him pathetic?! "Secondly, I found my picture in that stupid plastic bag you gave him. You and Roger are the only ones who would've had that picture."
"Oh, really? Then what if Roger was the one who did it? Why do you have to go and accuse people of stuff that they may not have done?" He asked casually, twirling the telephone cord in between his fingers. "We must never assume that which is incapable of proof."
"I have proof. I just told you. Roger wouldn't be so stupid as to—"
"Can you stop calling me stupid, you asshole?!" Mello snapped. "So what if I sent a cat to kill you? Did he scratch you up nicely? Did he make you cry like the little spoiled brat you are?"
"Actually, no. He's at the veterinarian right now. I guess he doesn't handle bullet wounds very well." Near said it so nonchalantly that it caused Mello to grow silent.
"You… you shot him?" The chocolate-addict stammered.
"Well, no, Gevanni did. Right in the stomach. I expect that it'll take him a good while to recover. To be honest, I'm not very proud about injuring an animal, even if I didn't do it. Animal cruelty is a crime, but then, I guess this would count as self-defense. Nevertheless, your precious kitten is at the vet right now."
"…You're such a prick," Was all Mello could say. Before the other could answer, he slammed the phone down onto the receiver. "Fucking Near, ruining my fucking plans…" He begrudgingly hooked a crimson-colored leash up to Matt's green collar. "C'mon, Matty, we're going to teach that cat a lesson for screwing with my plans."
A/N By the way, there's a new poll up on my profile! I'd love it if my faithful reviewers could vote. Thanks!