Woot, Chapter 2! A little shorter than my other chapters, but not by much. Thanks to all who reviewed/will review, really appreciate it!

Also like to give a shout out to my new editor, mangaluver34. We're kind of co-editing now. Check her out, she's got some pretty awesome stories written:

(insert w w w. f a n f i c t i o n without the spaces... fanfiction doesn't like me putting in URLs).net/u/1856393/mangaluver34

Chapter 2

She's here. L sat patiently in his dark room, waiting for Naomi to respond to his initial greeting. He could only imagine what the woman was thinking right now. In that one moment, he asked himself should I really be putting this innocent woman in danger? I know I've done so many times before this, so why is this time any different? Because I know the killer? His delicate hands were clenched, and he was shaking slightly. Emotion flooded through him and he bit his lip harshly. Stop it Lawliet, this case is no different from any other… his head jerked up as I saw words being typed on the screen. "This is Naomi Misora. It's an honor to speak to you, L."

L considered being tactful, but he decided that with the time limit being concise would be more relevant than politeness. "Naomi Misora, are you familiar with the murder investigation going on in Los Angeles as we speak?"

Even though the next words were typed, he could practically feel the subtle vehemence behind them. "I am not so skilled that I can keep track of all the muder investigations happening in Los Angeles."

"Oh? I am." L mentally chastised himself for the hasty comment. Oh I'm not good at this sort of stuff… he stuffed his embarrassment away and said a bit too quickly, "I'm referring to the serial killings – the third victim was found yesterday. HNN new is calling it the Wara Ningyo Murders." Gods, those two words alone sent shivers up his bent back.

"The Wara Ningyo Murders?"

L nodded, his black hair bouncing slightly. He expected that she wouldn't be familiar with the case. She was on leave after all, and FBI agents on leave probably didn't want to keep up with every case that they were presumably missing (even though the FBI hadn't gotten involved in the Wara Ningyo Murders yet). "I would like to solve this case. I need to arrest the killer." Too much emphasis on need, L. "But your help in this matter is vital, Naomi Misora."

"Why me?"

Sensing that Naomi was somewhat annoyed (and who wouldn't be? He hadn't been tactful at all, really, and had asked her to destroy her computer. Good laptops weren't cheap), he gave her a compliment, even though he realized that the synthetic nature of his voice would make it sound somewhat fake. "Naturally, because you are a skilled investigator, Naomi Misora."

"I'm on leave of absence…" before she finished typing, L responded with, "I know. Isn't that convenient?"

There was a slight pause. What did I do now? he wondered. It really was dreadful being so socially awkward. You wouldn't think it would bother him so much by now, but it still did. He inserted his thumb under his lip and watched as more words appeared on his screen. "Okay. I'll help in any way I can."

"Thank you. I knew you would agree." L winced when he realized that probably wasn't the best thing he could have said. He recovered and said, "Let me explain how you will contact me in the future. We have no time, so I'll be brief…" After he explained the procedure, he told Naomi to read about the basic details of the case. She would find the files at her front door. "Is it possible for you to be at the scene tomorrow?"

"Of course."

"Thank you. Goodbye, Naomi Misora." Terminating the connection, he ran his hands down his neck, then brought his hands up and massaged his temples. Gods, am I hungry… he asked Watari to bring him some strawberry cheesecake and some more coffee, then spread some police files and pictures out in front of him. Three victims, and, if my deductions are correct, there will be one more. Unless I can catch him. Every time he looked at one of the horrific pictures of the victims, he felt nauseous. It wasn't the pictures themselves; he had seen a lot of gruesome things in his time as the number one detective on earth. It was the fact of who had killed the victims that made him queasy. So queasy in fact, that when Watari brought in his cake and coffee, he didn't even want to look at it. Watari looked concerned, but didn't inquire as to L's sudden lack of appetite.

It's all my fault… these people are dead because of me! I didn't pay enough attention to that boy, I didn't interact with him enough, I shouldn't have called him Backup, I… I… a warm drop of salty water ran down L's face. He was so confused... not about the case, but about himself and his own feelings. Do I hate you? Love you? Despise you? Respect you? What's real and what's fake? What's logic and what's my heart? What's moral and what's compassionate? Do morals and compassion even go together? Are they even compatible? Finally he gave up trying to sort out his troubled conscience, laid his head on the hard tile, and, feeling a strange wave of exhaustion come over him, slept.

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One day later…

Crack! B's head hit the planks under the bed as he was jarred awake due to the sound of the front door closing. He winced slightly. Cutting yourself is one thing, slamming your head against a hard object unintentionally is another story altogether. Expertly, he quieted his breathing. The sound of garbled words reached his ears. When the voice came closer, he could distinguish the sounds into individual words. "But L… According to the data I received yesterday – not to state the obvious, but the police have already examined the scene… I'm not sure how you did it, but you already have police reports covering that… so there's no point in my being here?... Well, that's clear enough."

B grinned. Exactly the type of scenario he had envisioned. Judging from the voice, it was a woman, judging from her feet, a tall, lean woman. She wore jeans and had on black Nikes. After the woman talked a bit longer on the phone, she closed her cell phone and stuck it back into her pocket. He listened to her musings for a while: "Not as bad as his killer, but it looks like Believe Bridesmaid was reasonably obsessive himself… under the carpet, behind the wallpaper… no, no, why would he hide the message? He wants it to be found. It's not a message if it isn't found. He sent a crossword puzzle to the police… very egotistical." At that comment B sniffed slightly. What a derogative term. "…to prove that we're stupid." I meant nothing of the sort… this is just between L and I, everyone else is irrelevant.

"You are beneath me, you can never beat me, that's what the messages are saying. Which means… he's not trying to make everything go right and avoid getting caught, he's after something more than his goals… or his making fun of us his primary goal?" Of course not. You're not worth the dirt beneath my shoes.

"Who is 'us'? The LAPD? Society? The U.S.A.? The world? No… the scale's too small… This is more personal. So this message… or something like a message…There must be one somewhere in this room… or, wait. There must be… something that should be here… the Wara Ningyo? No, those were a symbol for the victims, not a message… the bedroom… oh, right! The occupant! The bedroom's occupant isn't here!"

B heard the sound of papers being rustled. Good, she's smart enough to follow any clues I might leave for her. "If you look at them right… these marks… do look like letters… sort of…" She rattled off a few letters, then started mumbling about L. Then, "I guess I should check the other rooms… seems sort of pointless. But if he wiped all the fingerprints in the house…" B saw the shoes turn toward the door. Come on, you won't even check under the… before he finished the though, he saw the feet turn toward and then proceed walking toward the bed. Now's as good a time as any. Grunting slightly, he hooked one of his hands around the bottom of the bed. He grinned with a sort of satisfaction as the figure jumped back and gasped. She yelled, "What… no, who are you?!" B chuckled slightly. Your worst nightmare, perhaps? Or maybe a dream?

He reached his other hand out and pulled himself out, rejoicing to be out from under that bed. He flipped onto his stomach and crawled a little farther away from the bed, then glanced at the woman. Black, long, flowing hair. Pretty dark brown eyes. She stood with confidence. Naomi Misora, huh? Oh, you die much, much later. I won't have to kill you. Am I happy or sad about that? Doesn't matter, my emotions can't change fate… his train of thought trailed off, then a new trail picked up. FBI, maybe? He watched as she reached into her jacket. A gun, maybe? No, she would have pulled it out sooner if she really had a gun. He stood, slouching, and looked up at Naomi due to the slouch. "Nice to meet you." He bowed to hide the slight grin that was tugging at his face. "Please call me Ryuzaki."