Chuck, I feel so awful for not updating. I can't believe I left you guys hanging around, waiting for what happens next -

oh, screw this.

I'm lazy, I'm shameless, and I regret nothing.

And I just spilt my milkshake.

Shitcakes.

Anyway, this chapter is really the true start of things, as it's where L and Light/Kira and the Task Force come in. Chuck only knows how this maniacal plotline will conclude, but I've already got ideas for a sequel...

What?

It seemed like a good idea at the time!
Hehe, that's turning into my tagline...

Enjoy.

Yours Insanely,

{E~L~L}

Oh, why make me feel like this? It's definitely all your fault. - anon

So, overall, the plane flight went rather smoothly. We took off, we flew, Mello and I didn't kill each other, we landed, I stole a muffin that Mello had to pay for, and then we waited.

Have I ever mentioned exactly how much, to three decimal points of preciseness, that I absolutely and unchangably despise waiting in airports? Or any other kind of ports, really. Or any kind of place you wait at for any length of time. Like chiropractors and dentistries.
Dentistries is a word. Really.
On the up side, though, we got a taxi-limo thing, which I enjoyed immensely until Mello started screaming at me.

"Sweetapple... I've never been inside a limo before."

" Leprechaun! For God's sake, get your head back inside the vehicle before it gets knocked off!"

, though, he had a point in a roundabout kind of way; aside from being socially frowned upon - as many fun things in life are - sticking your head out of the window isn't all that pleasant when it's positively BUCKETING rain. The lecture about pnuemonia and other cold-and-wet related ailments was unneccessary, though, as was the order to change clothes when we got to our hotel.
" I never get colds. "
" Fine. Suit yourself. "
I suited myself just splendidly.

"... You did not just lick my chocolate. "

" Of course not, that would be unhygeinic. I merely tasted it with my tongue."

"THAT'S THE SAME THING, YOU SICK FREAK!"

Then I spent about twenty minutes in an intense staring/profiling match with the world's greatest detective while Mello holed himself up in the bathroom.

L won as soon as Watari came into the room with pancakes.

We settled in, I was questioned, and Mello was filled in on the case details while I sulked at the fact that everyone had a laptop except me. Then Watari gave me some free pencils and paper, which I considered to be a satisfactory substitute.

What? I'm a child at heart.

Overall, everything was just peachy until L announced that he wanted me - without Mello, who was glued to the laptop - to meet the Task Force with Watari. L would, as usual, be present through the laptop, to explain the situation as well as to observe interactions for his own intuitive theorising. See? I'm not that oblivious.

So I stood and acted reasonably sane before the only remaining members on the case - Aizawa, Ide, Mogi, Ukita, Matsuda, and Yagami himself. I think I was doing a fairly good job, too; Matsuda, at least, was happy to chat with me, and I hung out at the station until a certain someone's 'perfect' son showed up oh-so-thoughtfully with food from home.

Then it all careened downhill and burst into flames.

Now, just for future reference, I am not a suicidal person. Yes, I am admittably rather impulsive and... irrational at times, but never suicidal. As far as I can remember, I have never consciously signed my own death warrant.

Until today.

"NO Leprech - jeez, somebody restrain her!"

"I'M GONNA RIP THE FLESH FROM YOUR CRANIUM! GRAAAAAAGHH! COME HERE, YOU EGOTISTICAL SHITFACE! I FLEPPING HATE YOU!"

Yeah.

So maybe I wasn't particularly subtle in declaring my dislike of Light i'm-a-gaY. But could you blame me? According to what I'd been told, all FBI agents had been killed off despite my request for them to use fake - including Raye, who'd stupidly assumed Light couldn't be Kira and had given his real name - in the past 48 hours, Naomi Misora was a missing person, and the cocky bastard had come within throttling range with a charming smile and a proferred hand in greeting.

Needless to say, it got very ugly very fast.

Kira was flepping lucky that he had the Task Force and Watari there to protect him from my infernal wrath; I only got to punch him in the face once and briefly strangle him with both hands before I was pulled off and banished back to the hotel.

I spent the next two hours sitting in 'my' bed, sulkily consuming the majority of sweet foodstuffs in the suite Mello and I currently shared, listening to heavy metal and considering whether my actions would put me on Kira's 'bad person' list. It took a while for the reality of the situation to sink in, and when it did I - understandably - began to feel some concern over whether I should use precautionary protection in the future; after all, I didn't want to die. Still, Kira's too much of a conceited assbutt to do the Eye Trade... Right?

Maybe I should wear sunglasseses and a hat, just in case.

Or a Halloween mask.

Or a helmet.

Or simply stay indoors with a helmet and draw the curtains and let nobody in.

...

"I am so fu-aaachoo!"

SEVERAL SLEEPLESS HOURS AND A BISCUIT LATER

For the 517th time, I sneezed; the jerk that overcame my frame caused the last forkful of maple-syrup toast to fall to the floor. My heart wrenched in briefly overwhelming grief at the sight.
" Melloooh... I've dot the shniffles. "
I gave the blonde a mournful look. It wasn't very effective.
" So? "
The chocaholic wasn't as sympathetic as I'd hoped. Ignoring his brusqueness - he was just still pebbled by the fact that I'd coloured his hair with a pink highlighter while he'd been asleep - I sighed, lifted myself from the couch, and limped to the bathroom ( it wasn't because the damage in my leg had magically surfaced in this body; I'd tripped up the stairs. Again. ). Nidenski didn't ' do ' aeroplanes ( or travelling at all, really ) so there was a blissful absence of death threats hanging around.

Ah. Yes. Death.

Need to do something about that...

" Get dressed; we're going out, " Mello called suddenly. I presumed he'd just received a text/order/startling epiphany of how much he wanted to spend time with me. Heheheh, the amusment of alleged plausibilities...
" I can't go out. " I coughed weakly for good measure.
" I'm sick. "
" Boohoo. Hurry up. "
" You hurry up. "
" And put on a coat!"
" You put on a coat. "

Feathering goat-scrapping mattress of a sodden peestick...