Author's Note: (Author's Note will be located at the end of the chapter, due to the possible chapter spoilers Minion's rambling may contain. Thank you and have a nice day.) Also, has anyone else noticed the whole deleting-random-spaces-after-italicized-words thing? It's flipping annoying!

Disclaimer:Don'townitdidn'tdoityoucan'tproveanything'kaybye.

.IV.

Mihael trudged the perimeter of the Wammy's grounds, trailing a hand along the icy bars of the iron gate, kicking up miniature flurries of snow with each step; every few seconds a cloudy breath worked its way past the fuzzy white scarf that an overzealous caretaker had wrapped firmly around his neck and chin.

A small, lonely part of him reveled at the desolate isolation that seemed to drape the snowy landscape like a blanket--all of the other orphans were tucked away inside, a never-ending supply of hot chocolate and cider to keep them warm… friends and stuffed animals for company. This time last year, he had found himself perched at a kitchen table over-laden with brightly wrapped packages and a chocolate cake almost twice his size, his mother slathering him with kisses and exuberant birthday wishes. Ten years old, now. What did he have to show for it?

He sighed, stuffing his tingling fingers into the warmth of his pockets as he did an about-face, heading back toward the shoveled walk stretching from the front gates up to the main doors of the orphanage. Burrowing his nose under the scarf, he folded into himself, keeping his head ducked and gaze firmly on the crisp white snow crunching beneath his boots.

Pausing, he blinked owlishly as a pair of hastily tied tennis shoes came into view. Glancing up, he locked eyes with L, who stood enveloped in an overly-large, fluffy winter coat on the shoveled walk. "Good afternoon, Mihael," he said warmly, pulling a candy cane from his pocket and meticulously unwrapping it.

Mihael shifted slowly. "…hi," he said finally, glancing down to focus once more on the teenager's shoes; he didn't want L to see the loneliness surely reflected in his eyes. There was a short silence as Mihael watched the snow slowly soaking through the bottoms of L's sneakers and the young man glanced about unconcernedly, rolling his candy cane back and forth between his lips.

"L." Mihael started, glancing up to see the elderly figure of Mr. Wammy standing behind the messy haired young man, slowly pulling on a pair of expensive-looking leather gloves. When L inclined his head ever-so-slightly to the side to indicate his attention, Mr. Wammy continued. "The car is ready. We need to leave immediately if we're to reach London by nightfall." Catching sight of the small blond blinking curiously at him over L's shoulder, he offered a gentle smile. "Hello, Mihael."

"Hello, Mr. Wammy," Mihael greeted politely.

L removed his candy cane with a wet pop, half-turning to acknowledge the older man. "Of course," he said simply, "I will be there in a moment." Mr. Wammy nodded, his lips twitching below his moustache with the tiniest hint of a smile as he raised his hat courteously to Mihael and strode off in the direction of the gate and the supposed car waiting on the other side.

A soft "ahem," from behind drew Mihael's attention away from Mr. Wammy's long coat flapping around the corner of the gate, and he glanced up to see L observing him with a miniscule smirk, holding a small, plainly wrapped package pinched between two fingers. Emerald green eyes flicked questioningly back and forth between the brown paper and L's pale face as the detective silently wagged the parcel in Mihael's direction. Slowly, the boy reached out, quickly snatching it away at L's affirmative nod.

"Happy birthday," he said simply, popping the candy cane back into his mouth and absently ruffling the boy's golden hair as he turned down the shoveled walk to follow after Mr. Wammy.

Mihael stared blankly at his retreating back, before glancing down. He twisted the package over and over for a contemplative moment, observing it from all angles before ripping into it with an eagerness he wasn't willing to admit even to himself.

"The Murders in the Rue Morgue," he murmured to himself as the crumpled wrapping fell forgotten to the snow, "The Dupin Tales…by Edgar Allan Poe…." He turned the book over, slowly running his fingers down the spine as he read the short synopsis on the back. A tiny smile crept onto his face as he mouthed the words quietly.

L had remembered his birthday. Not only remembered, but taken the time to get--well… probably ask Mr. Wammy or Roger to get him a present. It was a small gift, nothing to get overly excited about. But still…L had remembered his birthday. The phantom, reverent whisper had taken the time to give him a present. A tiny pool of warmth trickled into his stomach at the thought, and his smile widened, clutching the book protectively to his chest as he scurried up the walk in the direction of the House.

Easing the book closed for a moment, marking his page with his thumb, Mihael stretched languidly, arching his back like a cat and yawning widely. Scratching lazily at the back of his head, he glanced out the window--half to give his eyes a rest, half to gauge the lighting; he'd been reading for hours.

He traced a particularly large snowflake's descent with an easy smile. L couldn't have picked a better present--detective stories were his favorite, there was nothing better than a good mystery in his opinion. Well… maybe a good mystery and a mug of steaming hot chocolate--hmm. Hot chocolate sounded really good right--

A soft thump caught his attention, followed by the muffled sound of something sliding across carpeted floor. He was up quick as a flash, darting across the room and flinging the door open. "Hey, you--!" He paused several paces outside, glancing back and forth down the deserted hallway in confusion. He had definitely heard something…. Shooting one last suspicious glare, he turned to slowly make his way back through his door, switching on the lamp as he stepped inside.

As the warm glow enveloped the room, he caught sight of a small rectangular something lying on the floor, several feet away from the door. Stepping closer, he knelt down, snatching up the chocolate bar with a look of consternation. "What the--?" Flipping the candy over, he read the small scrap of paper taped to the wrapper with a critical eye.

'Happy Birthday!' was scrawled messily across the top in all capital letters, followed by, 'It's not much, I know… but it was the best I could do on such short notice. Stuff yer face, mate!'

There was no signature… though it didn't really need one. Even without the small, hastily drawn Bowser (with a blatantly accentuated shock of red hair) in the bottom corner, there was really no one else it could have been from besides Mail--no one else who knew how much he loved chocolate… no one else who would have taken the time to give it to him at all.

The corner of his mouth quirked slightly as he slowly removed the note, placing it on his desk with far more care than needed before ripping the wrapper off and taking a large, appraising bite. Chewing slowly, allowing the chocolate to melt on his tongue appreciatively, he threw his head back to stare thoughtfully at the ceiling.

He hadn't expected presents, or really even the simple acknowledgement of the occasion at all; he'd told himself that he didn't need them either. Gifts were unnecessary; pointless and useless. But this feeling… the small, growing glow of warmth and contentment settled deep in his chest--L's large, beetle black eyes allowing the tiniest sparkle of amusement…. Mail's wide, toothy grin, the word 'friend' dropping casually from his lips. As cliché as it sounded, cheesy as it felt even within the confines of his own mind--it almost felt better than any present his parents had ever set before him. To have people who cared, who truly--

…He needed milk. Grimacing slightly at the half-eaten bar of chocolate, he quickly rewrapped it and stuffed it into his pocket, before heading out the door and down the hallway in the direction of the kitchen. What was wrong with him…? Fuzzy feelings of warmth and friendship. He didn't need it! …They were just quirks. Didn't mean he couldn't fend for himself just as easily without them.

Mihael ran a hand back through his hair as he walked, skirting along the wall of the hallway to avoid the crowds of children standing between him and the quiet solitude of the library. Tuning out the excited shrieks of the other orphans, he mentally rattled off the list of books he would need if he was going to be properly prepared for the test the next day--the final exam before they were given a break for the holidays.

"Ha! Exterminate that! A-booya!"

He paused several steps past the entryway into the common room, listening to the voices within laughing and heckling as background music crescendoed dramatically. Backpedaling, he glanced inside, catching the telltale mop of fiery hair over the back of the couch.

Leaning casually against the doorway, he silently surveyed the scene before him; taking in Mail bouncing excitedly on the couch, accompanied by an exuberant brunette, both glued to the television screen and crowing triumphantly; River had settled himself in the corner of the room beneath a window, curled on the floor in front of a large, complex puzzle; and the only other occupant of the room was a second dark-haired girl perched at a desk, scribbling furiously in a notebook.

He crossed his arms, his brow furrowing as his glare settled on Nate's platinum head. In the week since his birthday, he had only seen Mail during class and at meals… the redhead's spare time seemingly dominated by the younger boy. Though he had been loath to admit it, Mail's noticeable absence had not been sitting well with him. He had gotten too used to the gamer's presence, taken it for granted perhaps… and now--

"Oh,hey Mihael!"

Mail's voice, surprised and more than a little pleased, broke him from his brooding and he blinked, glancing about to see four pairs of eyes focused on his presence in the doorway. He straightened up, stiffly nodding in the general direction of the couch, studiously ignoring the boy in the corner.

"Whatcha up to?" Mail chirped, turning to drape himself over the back of the couch, grinning at the blond.

Mihael shifted, forest green eyes panning the room. "Studying," he said simply, knocking his bag forward for unneeded emphasis.

Mail made a face, rolling his eyes and turning to scoff in the direction of his couch companion. "He's studying, Mail," the anonymous female mimicked scathingly, grinning back.

"I'm sorry," Mihael broke in irately, sending a scowl in her direction, "Have we met, or do you take that tone with all strangers?"

Mail laughed as emerald clashed angrily with mildly irritated hazel across the couch. "Mihael, this is Abigail… that's her sister, Autumn," he gestured in the direction of the silent party still hunched over the desk, who raised her right hand and waggled her fingers at the blond absently, "they're in the year above us."

Mihael made a disgruntled grunting noise in greeting.

"We're watching Doctor Who," Mail continued happily as Abigail swiveled back in her seat to face the television as the commercials ended, "Care to join?" he raised his eyebrows, blue eyes large and pleading as he stared over at the other boy.

"I--" Mihael hesitated, fingering the strap of his book bag. "I shouldn't," he said finally, surprised to note that there was real regret echoing in his voice, "I really should study for tomorrow, and--"

"Oh, you'll be fine!" Mail pouted, "You're the smartest in our class! No one's even close to you, what do you have to worry about?" He cocked his head to the side, smiling.

Mihael nibbled on his lip, torn. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of River sitting up to peg him with that blank, calculating stare, waiting to see what he would do. He could practically hear the little creep monotoning in his head, "What good would the studying do you, anyway? You're the top of your class, yes, but you'll never beat me." His lips twisted into a furious snarl as the younger boy seemed to lose interest and went back to his puzzle.

"Fine," he growled, "I don't need to study anyway." Dropping his book bag with an unceremonious thump in the door, he stormed around the couch and settled himself sulkily in the seat on Mail's left. The redhead grinned happily at him for a second, before turning excitedly back to the Doctor.

Mihael stared blankly at the TV screen, allowing his mind to wander. He'd consistently been getting the top score in his age group, that was true… Mail was the only student anywhere near him, and of course the redhead didn't apply himself nearly enough to be a threat to his standing. River, though…. They were in separate classes, but he couldn't help noticing that the younger boy had received straight perfect scores the full semester. Damned robotic freak. Mihael was never second.

He paused in the furious gnashing of his teeth as a thought occurred to him, his eyes widening as they rolled to glance at Mail. …Had the redhead noticed his failure…? Noticed and found him wanting? Was that why he had been spending so much time with Nate lately…? Because Mihael wasn't good enough? Because Nate was… better? He swallowed uncertainly, his gaze darting once more to River's pale head across the room. Was he losing Mail to River...?

His fingers dug furiously into the material of the armrest at the thought. Ever since their first meeting, there had been an unspoken rivalry between the two. Mihael's emerald eyes narrowed, zeroing in on Nate's spindly fingers as they pressed the final puzzle piece into place. Academically, he had been one step behind River since classes had started; his only consolation was that competition seemed to be isolated within grade-levels. If scores were to open up to the entire institution, though….

He would not lose this battle. The grades were bad enough on their own; he would not give Mail up to this dead-eyed mutant. Maybe River had been Mail's best friend prior to his arrival, but soon enough he would see how much better Mihael was--smarter… more fun--just… better.

The television screen faded to black, marking the end of the Doctor's latest adventure. Mihael settled back into the corner of the couch, content with the battle strategy beginning to formulate in the back of his mind, and stretched out, casually draping his legs across Mail's knees and crossing them at the ankles.

There was a short, pregnant pause as Mail froze, cerulean eyes flicking down to the socked feet perching on his thigh. A surprised grin quirked the corner of his lips for a second, before he turned to listen to Abigail's prattling commentary about "Paul McGann being, by far, the best Doctor to date…" casually resting his forearms on Mihael's shins as he channel surfed for the next hour of entertainment.

Mihael bit back the triumphant smirk threatening to break across his face at this acceptance, surreptitiously glancing at Nate through the cover of golden bangs. His lip twitched gleefully as stony gray eyes narrowed marginally before the younger boy purposely overturned his puzzle, scattering the pieces and starting anew, ignoring the other occupants of the room. Mihael turned his attention back to the TV, stretching luxuriously.

"Man, there is absolutely nothing good on!" Mail complaining after the second round trip through the channels.

"Let's watch the news," Autumn suggested placidly, coming to perch on the armrest beside her twin sister.

Mail made a face, before turning to Mihael for support. The blond shrugged noncommittally. "There's nothing else on, we might as well," he supplied, snatching the remote from the redhead and panning through the channels in search of a news broadcast.

"Ew, Mihael," the other boy sniffed disdainfully.

"Oh, grow up, Mail," Mihael shot back, shoving his shoulder lightly as he finally settled on a station covering a unexplained string of murders occurring throughout Westminster, literally right under Scotland Yard's nose.

"In light of the Ministry of Defense's inability to resolve the case," continued a relatively pretty female newscaster clad in a garishly pink sweater, "Parliament has unanimously agreed on the involvement of outside parties. All files and evidence relevant to the case have been handed over to the person or persons mysteriously referred to only as 'L.'"

Mihael sat up abruptly, dropping the remote to the floor as he scooted to the edge of the couch--a gesture mirrored by the three beside him--staring intently at the large Gothic-style "L" emblazoned in the top corner of the screen. In his corner, Nate paused, glancing up as the broadcast continued.

"'L's' identity, whether as an individual or a group is being kept in the strictest of confidences. The only information currently being released is Interpol's budding interest in the case--and that it was the international organization's suggestion to involve 'L.'" She paused to shuffle the papers in front of her, clearing her throat, before pegging the camera with a brilliant smile. "…This station will continue to air details of the case as they are released. In other news--"

Mihael dug blindly for the remote, snatching it up and numbly switching the television off before turning to stare, wide-eyed, at Mail.

"Is that… our L?" Abigail whispered softly, as though afraid to discuss information they should not have overheard, as she glanced back and forth from her sister to the boys on her other side.

"I… I dunno," Mail responded, bewildered.

Mihael swallowed, sitting up straight as Mail's wide blue gaze settled back on his face searchingly, as though requesting guidance. "We don't have any reason to believe it's not," he said simply.

"Nor do we have any reason to believe it is."

The four on the couch glanced up to see Nate standing slowly, raising his blank gaze to study them neutrally as he curled a lock of hair absently around his finger. Mihael bristled at the younger boy's blatant opposition of his earlier statement, clenching his fists furiously in the material of his jeans.

"It would be best," Nate continued, "if we did not make uninformed assumptions. Just because we know an 'L' doesn't mean it is that 'L.' We should wait until he returns to pass judgment."

"You think he'll just come out and tell us, if it's him!?" Mihael growled angrily.

"I didn't say that," Nate responded blandly, eyes raking over Mihael appraisingly, "I said we should wait for his return. Surely there are other ways to confirm or disprove your theory." That said, he bent down and gathered up his puzzle, before retreating out the door, not sparing a second glance in their direction.

Mihael glowered after him, grinding his teeth. A gentle tug on the sleeve of his sweater caught his attention, and he turned to meet Mail's excited, determined gaze. "I think it's him," he whispered, "You said he was going to London, right? How many people who go by just 'L' can there be in one city?" He scrambled to his knees on the couch, flinging his arms about enthusiastically. "It has to be him!"

Behind him, twin mahogany heads nodded their agreement.

"Yeah," Mihael said softly, settling back into the couch cushions, "I think so, too."

To be continued.

Minion's Afterthoughts: So, at first, I was all excited for this chapter 'cause (gets up on her soapbox) it means the story's moving forward! Rock! But now, as I'm proofreading, I have very mixed feelings about it. I love the content… not sure how I feel about Mel's characterization in it. Granted, I see Mello as a very emotional person… he obviously tends to hide it, except for the anger... but he deeply respects L (seeds of hero-worship successfully planted!) and recognizes that Matt is his best friend and cares for him as that dictates. But I can't imagine him showing it often. And with that in mind, I think I might've made him too…soft in this chapter. I dunno. Still not sure how I feel about him. Let me know what you all think. Also, Mello is such a freaking spazz! lol!

And(!) worry not! Though you have encountered the dreaded OC (two, in fact! The horror!) in this chapter, they actually have a purpose! (le gasp!) These are not classic Mary Sues, nor any subspecies thereof. They will not be stealing any spotlights, will not be main characters (probably won't show up much at all, in fact), are not perfect in any way, and are not there just to be boring romantic interests (blegh). They are just random Wammy's children. Right. Moving on.

Anyway, PLEASE REVIEW! It makes my life ever-so-much better!

Review'd!

Esoteric Memories: Eh. (Shrug) This wouldn't be anywhere near the worst thing a fanfic author changed about DN. …(shifty eyes) lawl, I'm sure my Mello will be all sorts of into the psychobabble and such. Hee. Never heard of Hellblazer… do tell…? Thanks for the continuing reviews, they're much appreciated! MiNoRiTy5472: Thanks so much for reading and taking the time for the feedback! M&M forever! Woot! mustypaperback: Thanks for reading it. I s'pose the video really does stand on its own, but I'm really excited for the full outcome of the story. I think Wammy's is a friggin' soap opera. Haha! At least, the Wammy's in my mind is…. Anyway, thanks so much for taking the time to actually read it! aya: Agreed. Thanks for reading! Dawn-at-Midnight: I love that L guy. Hee. Matt is such a damsel in distress. My roommate went on a rant about Legend of Zelda and DN the other day… far too long for a simple summary, but in short, Mello was Link… and… Matt was Malon (damsel in distress'd!) and, yeah. It was a thing. Heh, anyway… thanks for the review…s! Trinity Spark: HaHA! You are beginning to delve into the twisted inner workings of my mind… everything is either a blessing in disguise, or a doorway to terrible, heart-wrenching angst! Hee. And we all know that Mello looooooooves Matt. Loves. lol. Glad you liked it, hope you liked this one! judikickshiney: Hee, thanks. Glad you liked it. Hmm. Official Matt picture… I don't remember the exact link I found it at… but I made fun of it on my livejournal… half a second… (searches, searches…) here: http://theminion2001 (dot) live journal (dot) com/ …it should be the top one. He be preeeeeetty. Billie the fourth sage: Thanks so much for reading and taking the time to review! I'm so glad you like it, and I hope you continue reading! youreverlastinglight: l awl, are you making fun of my crappy bully nicknames!? Humph. How dare ye. Heh. I like the choice of music this time. That song is rather disconcerting…. Bwaha! Plot development ftw! …L ftw, too. 'Cause he's awesome 'n' such. Woot. Next song, next song!! (claps happily) Ev: Aww. Don't be sorry, the fact that you reviewed at all is enough for me! (Is shameless review whore, heh) Sad day for your internet being down. When that happens to me, I sit in the corner and mumble incoherently. It's a horrible thing. Geh. Plot development, woooooooooot! Mahri: Thanks! I'm glad you think so. I try oh-so-hard, but it always seems like I slip… I'm glad you don't agree. Thanks so much for reviewing, I'm glad you like it! NormalAddict: Haha, nah… just my best friend. Although we have decided that if either of us were a guy, we'd probably be set for life. lol. Aren't Matts great, though… I wish I had one to date… luuucky. (Pouts) Anyhoo. Thanks for reading, glad I could keep you entertained for a while! Aclatis: Bwoff. And it's Oliver Wood ya dweeb. You call yourself a Potter fan!? …'course, we're much more Marauder-oriented than Trio-oriented. I hate your son, Prongs. He's such a whiney little bint. And of course you're still my muse. Who else would I bounce ideas off of? Padfoot? Pfft. Tubular Fox: Wow, thanks for thinking it worthy of passing it on… all of them, I guess! (blushes) I'm so flattered you liked my stuff that much! Thank you! For all that and for the reviews… I hope I keep up to your standards!

Yeah, um... review, yes...? Bwoff!