A/N: Well, here I go again. Updating! Pfft! Of all things! It's like, like I just can't STOP!

And on this chapter . . . I'm not saying a word, not one word! My lips are sealed!

I'm so glad everyone loves Tank! Yay! Me too! And thanks for all the awesome reviews! You guys rock my socks!

Now, I'm just gonna say this, but if ANYONE feels the urge to do a little fanart or trailer for this fic, then by all means, let the feelings move you! Really, I won't stop you . . . seriously, and I would love you dearly!

And Moonkist_x_? I will marry you because you are amazingly awesome, and I fracking love you to bits!

Okay folks. Like I said, my lips are sealed on this one, but just to let you all know, I've got half of the next chapter written already. It won't be long before it's up.

The Art of Drowning

Strange Bedfellows

If Light were to say he wasn't nervous, then he'd be lying. It was one thing to knock hopefully on some guy's door in some run down apartment complex in a shady part of town. It was quite another thing to be led through an extravagant mansion turned orphanage to meet the man in charge of it all by two strange orphans.

"So where are all the kids?" asked Light, trying to get his mind off the impending meeting. He had only seen a few of the blighters running around, but not nearly enough to think this place was an orphanage.

Matt shrugged. "Classes, mostly."

Light raised an eyebrow. "And how come you two aren't in class?"

"I don't have class right now," said Mello, still eating that huge chocolate bar.

"I'm skipping," added Matt nonchalantly.

"Somehow I'm not too surprised about that," replied Light, following the two boys up another staircase.

"How big is this place anyway?" wondered Light, gazing up at a portrait of some stuffy looking old woman.

"It's fucking huge. You could get lost if you weren't familiar with it," said Mello.

"I would imagine," agreed Light, looking down a particularly twisted hallway.

It was silent after that, each lost in their own thoughts as the two boys navigated the hallways flawlessly. They finally reached their destination, bringing Light to stand before a rather ordinary door at the end of a long, surprisingly straight hallway. Light nervously bit the inside of his lip.

"Well don't just stand there like a fucking idiot! Knock already! Or here, let me do it for you," said Mello, bringing up his fist.

"No, that's -"

The younger boy pounded loudly on the door, making Light cringe. So much for that nice first impression. Matt chuckled lightly under his breath.

A muffled 'come in' was heard through the thick wood.

Mello threw the door open, strutting in. Matt followed, and Light too after a brief hesitation.

"Hey, Roger. Look who we found," said Mello, gesturing to Light.

Light took a moment to study the elderly man in front of him, who was blinking at him in confusion. The guy looked older than dirt, and Light was slightly disgusted to realize that the man was pinning dead bugs to some sort of sheet that would more than likely be framed at a later time.

"Who's your friend, Mello?" asked the old man, presumably Roger Ruvie.

Mello cocked an eyebrow. "You mean you don't know him?"

Matt threw Light a piercing look. Light figured now was a good a time as any to introduce himself.

"I'm Light Layfield, and are you Roger Ruvie? I was told we were related," offered Light, stepping forward.

The old man's eyebrows rose, and he stood up slowly from his desk.

"Yes, I'm Rog - Light Layfield?" Roger asked suddenly, his eyes widening.

Light nodded, relieved that the man seemed to know what he was talking about. He just hoped he wouldn't be asked to pull his pants down again. Maybe Roger would take his word on good faith.

And maybe Light had the most amazing luck in the world.

He stifled a sigh, instead, offering his hand to the man as was Western custom. The man took it hesitantly.

"Light Layfield . . . I thought you were dead," said Roger faintly.

He didn't miss the quick glance shared by Matt and Mello.

Light gave the man an easy smile. "Yes, well, reports of my death were greatly exaggerated."

Roger chuckled, breaking the atmosphere, and gestured to one of the two chairs that was placed in front of his desk. "Please, sit. I'm sure you have quite a story for me, hmm?"

Light nodded, sitting gratefully. It had been a long walk over to the orphanage, and then through it to the office.

"Matt, Mello, thank you for showing Mr. Layfield to my office. Now, if I'm not mistaken, I believe one of you should be in class, and the other has a paper due, no?" said Roger, steeping his fingers as he gazed at the two boys above his glasses.

Mello made a noise of protest in the back of his throat, but Matt grabbed him and quickly exited. No doubt he didn't want to get in trouble for playing hooky. Light turned back to the older man once the door had slammed. Honestly, Light wouldn't be surprised if the two would try and eaves drop on the conversation, but Light had noticed that the door was awfully thick, probably just for that reason.

"Light Layfield . . . I can't believe my eyes, but you look just like your mother," commented Roger.

"You were her relation then, sir?" asked Light, having already had that confirmed by Greg, but there was no way in hell he'd be mentioning his uncle to this man. Not after what had happened a couple of nights ago.

Roger nodded, folding back what Light assumed to be this morning's newspaper and setting it aside. Apparently it had been in the man's lap. Roger pushed aside his insect project, and leaned against the desk.

"I was her relation, in a way. You see, this place has been an orphanage for quite a while. My friend set up a series of orphanages in the aftermath of the second world war. This orphanage was his crowning achievement, and therefore is the only one to be named after him. Your maternal grandparents were originally from Japan, but were living in England at the time of their automobile accident which resulted in your mother becoming an orphan at an early age. Your mother was sent to an orphanage, but she eventually came here because of her brilliance. I developed a close relationship with her, and she was my daughter in everything but blood. I adopted her not too long after she was sent here," said Roger, regarding Light fondly.

Light nodded. "So, you thought I was dead too?"

Roger sighed. "Well, what else was I supposed to think? The orphanage where you were placed caught fire, and none of the survivors were you."

Light paused. "Wait, you thought I died in the fire?"

"Where else would you have died, my boy?" asked Roger, a truly confused expression marring his face.

Light caught himself and shrugged. "I just never realized people thought I had died in that fire. I was actually adopted before that."

Roger nodded in understanding. "Then that explains how you are before me today, perfectly healthy."

Light was contritely grateful that Roger didn't mention how 'healthy' his face was looking these days.

"But why wasn't I brought to this orphanage before the fire, if you were so close to my mother?" asked Light. Surely someone who had adopted his mother would have brought Light to the orphanage that the man was in charge of running?

Roger sighed, rubbing his face. "That is entirely my fault. I didn't know where you were placed until a few months before the fire. The government is extremely unhelpful in such cases, especially considering you were the only survivor of an unsolved murder that took the lives of your parents. Besides, this orphanage is specifically geared to those of high intelligence. I didn't want to rip you from the only home you'd known for years just to send you back if your tests weren't up to par.

Even so, this orphanage employs many people stationed at different orphanages to be on the look out for children showing signs of great intelligence. In such cases, our employees have the children take the tests early to see if they should be brought here. I contacted the man stationed at your orphanage, and he was very eager to tell me that he was already in the process of having you take the tests. I'm sorry he died before he could have administered them, though I am happy you found a family, but my selfish old heart wishes you could have been brought here."

What Roger said struck a chord with Light, and memories long forgotten broke through.

"Mr. Scott? My math teacher?" guessed Light.

Roger smiled slightly. "He was a good man, if not a little overenthusiastic at times. I was very saddened to hear of his untimely death."

"For what it's worth, I understand why you didn't take me away from the orphanage," reassured Light. The man looked awfully guilty as he confessed he had been waiting for Light to take the intelligence tests before bringing him here.

Roger gave Light a grateful smile. "I appreciate your easy acceptance, Light. You remind me of your mother. She had a kind and forgiving heart, and I'm so glad you've finally decided to seek me out. But how did you find out about me? I'm curious."

Here Light had to tread carefully. "My adoptive father works in the Japanese government, and it wasn't too hard for him to find the information. He has some friends over here in England. His connections were probably why it was so easy for him and my adoptive mother to claim me as their own, as well as uncover any information that I sought. I wanted to get in touch with my family."

"So have you found anyone else?" asked Roger.

Light shook his head. "No, you're first on my very short list. I have another name. Yumi Thomas? Do you know her?"

Roger furrowed his thick eyebrows. "Yumi Thomas? Hmm, oh, yes! Yumi! She was your mother's older sister! I don't believe they communicated much. Yumi was older than Ai. She only stayed in an orphanage a few years before turning the legal age. She never came here. So have you visited her yet?"

"No, her address is in Scotland. I figured I'd start here first," said Light.

"I'm flattered!" exclaimed Roger excitedly. Light noticed the old man really did seem flattered that Light had visited him 'first.'

"You know, I believe your father has a brother somewhere, if I'm not mistaken," continued Roger, tapping his finger against his lips in thought.

"Oh, really?" said Light, feigning surprise.

"Hmm, but I don't know whatever became of him. I only heard about him from Ai," admitted Roger apologetically.

"That's a shame. Still, I don't know much about my parents. Part of the reason I sought you out was to find out more about them," added Light.

Roger smiled slightly. "Your parents were a secretive pair, Light. They were heavily involved in the British military, did you know? They were very smart, able people, and they were greatly admired."

"The military? I had no idea. What branch?" asked Light, pretending he hadn't known a bit about that from Greg.

"MI-5."

"MI-5? I'm afraid I'm unfamiliar with that part of the military. What does it do?" asked Light. It didn't even sound like a branch of the military, but his knowledge of Great Britain's military was rudimentary at best.

Roger leaned forward slightly in his seat. "You don't know? Hmm. Well, it's a secretive branch. It has to be. Its remit includes the protection of British parliamentary democracy and economic interests, counter-terrorism and counter-espionage within the UK. While mainly concerned with internal security, it does have an overseas role in support of its mission."

Light frowned. "So, basically you're saying that my parents -"

" -Were spies, from what I could gather. I'm afraid it's only speculation on my part. They weren't allowed to tell anyone outside of MI-5 what they did, and even then, only the higher ups really know who does what within the organization. But whatever they were involved in, I'm suspect that it cost them their lives," explained Roger, gazing at Light sorrowfully.

"Spies?" echoed Light faintly. Well, that would certainly explain a few things - mainly why his parents were targeted. They could have found something - something that caused people to want them dead, but Light couldn't be sure of what that was.

Could this be the connection between his parents and psycho fucker?

It was then that the phone rang. Roger glanced at it with a sigh. "Pardon me, Light."

"Oh, go right ahead," replied Light, gesturing to the ringing phone.

"Yes, this is Roger . . . Oh, I see . . . Really? My, my, that's not terribly good news . . . Yes . . . Yes, I can come in today . . . Half an hour? Well, that's a little soon, but . . . Oh, no other openings today? Well, I suppose I'll be in . . . . Yes . . . Yes, thank you," said Roger, hanging up the phone.

"Is there a problem?" asked Light, taking in the older man's frustrated features.

"Apparently my cholesterol is 'through the roof.' My doctor wants to run a few tests. Seems as if we'll have to continue our conversation later," said Roger, regret evident in his tone.

"That's fine. I understand," said Light, and Roger beamed at him.

"Please tell me you'll stay here, at least for the night?" asked Roger.

"Well, I do have a motel room in town, but I guess I could -"

"Oh, splendid! Absolutely marvelous! Come, come, I'll show you to your quarters and then you can go and fetch your things! We have so much to catch up on! I'm afraid my schedule is rather full for the rest of the day, and it keeps on getting fuller as you probably could tell. How about we have breakfast together tomorrow morning in my office? We can get to know each other a bit better then," suggested Roger, leading Light out of his office.

"Sounds like a good plan," agreed Light, following the older man through the twisting corridors.

"This place is so big, I'm afraid I might get lost," commented Light after a particularly randomized turn.

"I'll fetch you in the morning, don't worry. Just memorize the way we go when I walk you out. After all, we're going the same way," chuckled Roger.

Roger led him to another inconspicuous door. "Here we are. The fellow who usually stays in this room hardly ever comes to visit anymore, so there won't be a problem. And the children are expressly forbidden from coming here, so that will ensure your privacy."

The older man took a large set of keys from his pocket, muttering over them as he tried to find the right one.

"Ah, there you are!" exclaimed Roger, upon finding the correct key.

The older man opened the door to reveal a modest living room decorated in shades of blue. A comfy looking couch was situated in front of a beautiful fireplace, and Light was interested to find that the coffee table held a gigantic bowl full of candy. Actually . . . every single surface, from what he could tell, held a bowl of candy.

How strange.

"The door over to your right leads to the bedroom. On your left is the bathroom, and this door right here leads to a study. Don't worry, the sheets are clean," said Roger, chuckling at some private joke.

Light nodded. "Thank you, Roger. I really appreciate you going to all the trouble.

Roger waved his hand. "Oh, pish posh. It's no trouble at all. You're family, after all. Now, just follow me out. You took a cab here, am I right? How about I drive you back to your motel? It's on the way."

Light didn't bother on correcting Roger about how he had arrived, and instead accepted the older man's offer. Light paid special attention to the route that Roger took to lead them back to the entrance, mulling over his newly found adoptive grandfather who had an easy smile and a penchant for bugs, and all the startling information he'd uncovered about his mysterious parents.

Watari knew it was probably a bad idea.

Actually, it was a bad idea.

The last time he had pulled this stunt, L had been angry at him for days, but it had been so long since his charge had gotten much sleep other than a few ten minute catnaps in a chair. And what harm would it do, really? If the price to pay was a few days on his ward's bad side, then it was well worth it to have L rested for once.

Watari glanced into his rear view mirror, only to be met with the sight of L staring out the back seat window, absently rolling a lollipop in his mouth. The boy looked exhausted, and not a little depressed. Watari doubted he had gotten over an hour of consecutive sleep since Yagami Raito had died, and that had been over a month ago.

Watari turned his eyes back to the road, making sure not to miss the turn to the orphanage. He pulled up to the gate, quickly typing in the pass code, and waited patiently for the slow moving electronic gate to open. He'd have to bully Roger into updating the slow thing.

Watari smiled devilishly under his mustache at the thought of seeing Roger.

He pulled the car into the huge garage behind the mansion, parking it in an empty space next to a slightly older Rolls Royce. He ambled out of the car, popping open the trunk to retrieve his bag. L had already gotten his own small one, and they walked to the mansion in silence.

"You don't suppose anyone's awake at this hour, do you?" asked Watari, breaking the quiet as he took out a key, stuffing it into the back door leading to the kitchen.

L shrugged. "Hmm, I doubt it. It is one in the morning."

Watari nodded. "How about some tea before we retire?"

L paused, seemingly thinking it over. Watari silently urged his ward to agree, otherwise his plan would fail.

"Yes, that seems agreeable," relented L.

Watari hid his smirk, before setting to work in the kitchen.

Half an hour later, Watari was pulling back the covers of L's bed, gently leading the stumbling man and helping him under the covers.

"I'll be mad 'bout this 'morrow, Tari," slurred L.

Watari chuckled. "I am willing to take the chance, but everyone needs sleep L, even you."

"Do not," murmured L childishly, before his breath evened out.

Watari tucked the covers in around his ward. Maybe L wouldn't be too hard on him in the morning, but drugging L was the only sure fire way to see the man sleep longer than three hours at most. Watari left L's quarters to find his own bed, determined to crawl in and rest his tired old bones.

Light stumbled slightly, yawning as he made he way back to his rooms. After he had checked out of the motel, he'd walked back to the orphanage and spent the majority of the afternoon in the orphanage's extensive library, which he had happened upon while looking for the kitchen.

He researched what he could on MI-5. Surprisingly, there was a fair amount of information, but nothing that would help him figure out anything on his parents. Just before Light was about to give up, frustrated and lost, he saw a familiar face. Well, two actually.

He was, quite literally, ambushed by Matt and Mello, who were determined to find out why Roger had thought he was dead. After the abridged and slightly altered story, which Light figured couldn't hurt, Matt had challenged Light to a riveting game on the younger boy's Playstation.

Light hadn't necessarily wanted to play against the red head, but decided to go along with the idea all the same, if only because Light had a hard time backing down from a challenge.

Hours later, and Light had been thoroughly beaten. In fact, out of the numerous games they'd played, Light had barely won a third of them, but according to Mello, that in and of itself was an accomplishment considering that Matt was his opponent.

Light groaned when he looked at his wristwatch. It was pushing three in the morning. He really should have left the boys' room earlier, but Light found that he liked spending time with the two. They were interesting, to say the least, and Light hadn't played video games in years. That had been surprisingly fun, something that was a rare commodity these days in Light's life.

Light sighed in relief. There was his door! Next to the portrait of the English countryside. He'd have to keep that in mind. He'd been wandering around for nearly ten minutes, after all, and the only thing he'd recognized was the stuffy old portrait of a portly lady.

He tried the doorknob, surprised that it was locked.

Light could have sworn that he'd left it unlocked.

No matter, Light pulled out the key that Roger had provided him with earlier. He struggled a minute, his eyes crossing in his exhaustion, but he finally found the key hole. He turned the key, opening the door with relish.

He was so bloody tired.

The events of the day were catching up to him with a vengeance, and he could barely keep his eyes open. Light stumbled to what he hoped was the bedroom, which he was relieved to find he was correct in his guess when his knee hit the mattress. He didn't even bother to turn on the lights, just throwing himself into bed. He was too tired to even take his clothes off.

Light was almost, almost asleep, subconsciously snuggling up to the warm pillow beside him . . .

. . .the warm pillow beside him which moved and then gave a small sigh.

Light's eyes snapped open, suddenly and painfully awake.

It was at that moment, before Light could even think to move away from whatever or whoever was in bed with him, that he heard his bedroom door opening.

Light stayed still, praying that it was just his imagination, that the whole fucking thing was just the result of spending hours fighting against zombies with Matt, but no, whoever had just opened the door was shuffling to the bed, their footsteps muffled, but audible in the stillness.

It was then that he heard the click of a gun being cocked.

He froze, his heart beating wildly.

God damn cosmos.

EDITED: 7-4-09

A/N: HAHAHAHAHA! Oh, man! If I was one of my readers, I'd fucking HATE me just about now! LULZ! But eveyone remember, I've got half of the next chapter written!

Soooo, SAY SOMETHING! The faster you start talking, the faster I start updating! [hint, hint!]