Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note nor any of the characters contained therein.
Summary: L is almost 17, investigating a serial murder case near Toronto University. Undercover as a student prodigy, L will have to find a balance between education, investigation, and (ye gods) a social life. Rated T for language/nudity/gore. Some spoilers for Death Note: Another Note.
#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#
The Worst Feeling Ever
Chapter 13: Tide, Rising
The number of dishes piled in and near the sink filled L with resignation, making him grateful that they had at least used paper plates for the event. To his utter shock, the cake social had been a success, attended by numerous dorm residents, including most of the sixth floor, and a few non-residential students, of whom Guy was the only one he'd recognized. Most pleasing was the fact that almost everyone had brought something – 90% by L's count – ranging from soda and store-bought cookies to homemade cake and a sticky toffee pudding that put Roger's to shame. It was all he could do to resist carrying the leftovers back to his room immediately, but he reasoned that he could sneak away with most of it if he was patient and did it in batches.
"Ugh – boys are so awful, aren't they? None of them stayed to help clean up."
L turned, eyebrows raised. "I was simply deciding on the most efficient approach."
"Oh, I didn't mean you, silly. You're the exception!" The short-haired brunette tossed him a towel, her nose-stud winking in the light. "Tell you what – I'll wash, you dry, OK?"
"I . . . alright." L stared at the blue and white checked towel as though it was an alien creature. He wished he had thought to escape before the end of the gathering as Geoff had done, but that was the price for scoping the leftovers. "It's Kim, isn't it?"
"Yup!" Kim started the faucet, water bursting forth and rushing over her fingers, droplets spraying the edges of the sink. "Your cake was, um, impressive, by the way."
"Was it?"
"Oh yeah. I don't think I've ever seen one that big."
"Mm. Well, I thought 4 layers would be better than just two, and I wanted both chocolate and vanilla. I do wish I had obtained more frosting, however. Out of the seven I purchased, I only have one tub left."
Kim's eyebrows were raised as she moved her hand through the water, still testing it. "I'm a sucker for frosting too, but wow. I liked that you put fresh strawberries on your cake – those were yummy."
"They were the best I could find, though this is not really the season for them." L approached her side as she filled one side of the split sink with warm, sudsy water.
"It's too bad your brother couldn't join us. I guess he went back home, right?"
"Yes. He could not afford to miss any more school."
"He was a real cutie." She smiled, gaze distant as she began scrubbing a cake pan. "Think he'll visit you again?"
"It is possible." Eyeing her as he shoved his sleeves up to his elbows, L wondered what point she was trying to make. "You are not his type, by the way."
Kim faced L, handing him a dripping pan. "Wow you're blunt!" Grinning, she turned back to the sink. "I know he's gay. So am I, so he's not my type either."
L tilted his head, watching her as he slid the cloth around the rim of the pan. "Then why . . ."
She shrugged with one shoulder. "He's a nice kid – I liked talking to him. Plus, I have a friend who would so be his type . . ."
"I do not want some college lothario taking advantage of my underage brother." L's tone was more biting than he'd intended, and he swallowed, setting aside one pan to receive another.
"Aww – that's so cute! You're really protective of him." Kim gave a pixie-ish smile, handing him a platter as he set the pan down. "I don't blame you. But my friend is still in high school, and anyway, I wouldn't fix them up on a date or anything. I think it's better when people just meet and figure shit out on their own, you know?"
"Yes, I agree," L said, not sure he agreed. The inquiries he'd considered making died in his throat. She does not seem a likely candidate at all, he thought. Perhaps this entire endeavor was a waste of time – except for the cake.
"So . . . what about you?"
"Hm?" L took a cookie sheet from her and began wiping droplets from it. "What do you mean?"
"What's your type?" Still smiling, Kim inclined her head.
"My . . ." L blinked. "Are you inquiring as to my sexual orientation?"
"Well, yeah. Turn-about bluntness is fair play." Kim scrubbed at a muffin pan. "I mean, I know sometimes it can take a person some time to figure out what they're into, but . . . I dunno, you just seem like such a no-bullshit kinda guy that I thought you'd know by now."
L frowned, stacking another dried pan in the growing precarious pile. "Whatever I may know, I do not see how it is anyone else's concern."
As she handed him the muffin tin, Kim's eyes turned sad. "It isn't. But anyway, you shouldn't be ashamed, whatever it is."
Minutes went by as they washed and dried pans and serving dishes in silence, interrupted only by the occasional clatter and the murmur of voices wafting in from the hallway. Clean dishes were steadily piled on the counter and the table behind them as they worked, dishwater dripping from their elbows as if marking the time. When the sink was nearly empty, L noticed that the dishtowel was soaked to the point that it was more likely to increase the amount of water on the next dish. He reached forward and wrung it out over the empty side of the sink, watching Kim clean frosting off of the large cake knife.
"Look, I'm sorry I asked. I was just curious, but you're right. It's none of my business." Kim handed L the cleaned knife, handle first.
He stared at the blade as he moved the cloth over it, reflected light from the overhead strobing across his face. Kim drained the sink, a small vortex sucking the sudsy water down, and washed her hands, drying them on her untucked grey t-shirt before moving to leave. L spoke softly at her back. "There have been times when I have wished that I was gay, but I am not."
Kim smiled from the doorway, fingers crooking the doorjamb. "Know what that makes you?"
Pathetic? L thought. "Foolish?" he asked.
"Normal." Kim winked. "Glad you put together this little shindig, Ezekiel. It was fun." She disappeared into the hallway.
Normal, he thought; how appalling. Putting the knife away, L wasn't sure why he had shared such personal information with someone who was, at best, an acquaintance, but he rationalized that the information was unlikely to be damaging to him. For the most part, he'd managed not to share much about himself even in terms of his fictional persona while ferreting out details from the others at the gathering. Conversation after conversation, and for all he'd endured, he'd only been able to ascertain that the Butcher was not among the attendees – a less than 1% chance. There were a handful of people whom L thought could be accomplices, but the percentiles of likelihood were 6% or lower for all of them. Even Knut, who'd wandered in half-drunk to mock the proceedings, wasn't especially likely to be connected to the Butcher. He is simply too stupid, L thought; even an accomplice of the Butcher would have to be smart enough to maintain some level of stealth.
Oddly, of the nine people who knew Gellie, not one of them seemed to suspect that she was missing, though this may have been a consequence of her tendency to take spur-of-the-moment trips, if Guy's recollection was accurate. L found it depressing that someone known and well-liked in her community could disappear for several days without people realizing something was wrong, but he'd decided to continue to keep what he'd seen at her home to himself in the event he needed to later reveal what he'd "witnessed" to jibe with Aleister's statements on the evening he'd been on the news. Best to skew close to the truth even when lying, L thought.
Exiting the kitchen, he saw Janine sitting at the end of the hall couch next to Danielle and a few others, chatting quietly. L jammed his hands in his pockets. Deciding that he did not want another opportunity to go missing, he steeled himself and walked over to them.
"Janine . . ."
"Leave her alone, Zeke." Danielle's green eyes pierced him.
L ignored her. "I wanted to apologize for my behavior nearly two weeks ago. I do not expect nor am I asking for your forgiveness, but I now recognize the insensitivity in my reaction." He hoped that his explanation sounded plausible to Janine and that he was being successfully conciliatory. "I will not seek you out further, as I can see that I am upsetting you, but . . . in an effort to mitigate the distress I caused you, I have secured a date for you for the upcoming Bal de la Moisson."
"You . . ." Janine's flummoxed expression was magnified as her mouth dropped open.
"What?" Danielle yelled. "What the hell makes you think she needs your help to get a date? And why the fuck would she go out with –"
"I have no doubt that you can procure dates on your own, Janine," L said, resolutely focusing on her alone, "and I did not make any promises on your behalf. Geoff expressed an interest in attending the dance with you, so if you are interested in accompanying him, you need only let him know." Ducking his head once, L took a step back.
"Why did you do that?"
L almost smiled, considering that Janine's question was identical to his after she'd kissed him. "Because he likes you, and because I understand that you wish to go to the dance, and because I have seen you look at Geoff and blush. My interpretation is that you like him as well."
"That's . . . Ezekiel, I don't know what to say." Janine was blushing now as she stared up at him.
"You need not say anything at the moment. Geoff will speak to you of this soon, and you may tell him your decision then. You have no obligation in the matter." L took a deep breath, noting that Danielle seemed speechless for once. "Thank you for listening."
"But . . . but I still don't understand why you, I mean . . ." Janine's hands fluttered in front of her as if they were attempting to literally grasp meaning from the air, or wave it away.
L let the smile slip onto his face. "I am hopeful that you will be happy."
Not giving her a chance to respond, L turned, walking swiftly down the hall, hands still fisted in his pockets. That went better than I had anticipated, he thought. Now all I need to do is inform Geoff that he must ask Janine to the dance. Their involvement will allow me to focus more on the case. L hummed softly to himself as he continued past his own door toward Geoff's room, already plotting how he would make off with the remaining baked goods.
#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#
Such a gift you gave, so precious and small, but you have yet more gifts to bear, and so I'll keep you bound and quaking on my shining table. You speak of fate, but you're far too late, for I'm writing it now, for us all.
The hound misses you, I think, yes, yes – I wonder if he'll know you by your gift, unwrapped and waiting. He takes his time while playing fetch and does not possess your energy. It's true, I cannot help toying with him, but he has made himself his own toy, his own pawn, for the way he has toyed with others . . .
A tool? He is that, and I see you are no fool, though you could scarcely be. Perhaps I will trade a pet for a pet, or a pet of a pet for a pet. But not yet! If the hound wants to play, he'll have his day – sooner, I think, than he is ready. With a vented spleen at eighteen, he'll surely be seen, but you and I . . . we can catch him together. I know that it's true – that's what you do! "Justice" in all of its glory.
Ah, but don't worry, no, no, you'll be good to go. So lucky for you that I learned to sew! Only I can be Zed to remove the King's head, guillotine in the form of a story. And you, lucky you, shall witness the end, the greater gift, the utter purity of truth splayed out before you, on a table perhaps, but not etherized, oh no. Before Knight falls over rotting King, the truth itself will wake with you as a bloom wakes to water.
#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#
The bustling steps of other students created a chorus of sibilant rhythm, joining the clattering of equipment, the crinkling of papers, and the zipping of backpacks for the usual song of departure. Today's lab had been reasonably productive and had kept L's mind occupied for a few hours, but now that lunch loomed, it was roving through other territory as he slung his bookbag over his shoulder. He noted that Geoff had already preceded him out the door, and L considered the possibility that Geoff was avoiding him. Perhaps he is focused on the plans he is making with Janine, he thought, which only means that my plan is working.
"Mr. Penn?"
"Hm?" L spun slowly to face the woman with steel-grey hair cut in a bob, her chain-bound glasses bouncing on her chest as she approached. "Yes, Professor Lachland?"
Her rubber-soled boots thudded to a stop in front of him. "Just how far ahead of the rest of the class would you say you are?"
L blinked. "I . . . have completed all of this semester's reading material, but in terms of practice, I am no further along than anyone else, since removing equipment from the lab would likely be frowned upon."
"I'm glad you recognize that, Mr. Penn, although I doubt you'd get far with an atomic force microscope tucked under your arm." Her grey eyes twinkled.
Quirking a smile in response to the Professor, L brought a thumb to his lip. "Yes. I expect that would not go well."
She brushed her hands on her lab coat. "I don't often do this, but . . . if you'd like to proceed a little further, I can make the lab available to you on weekends."
"You . . . really?" For a moment, L's eyes lit up as he considered the possibilities.
"This weekend is out, since Thanksgiving's on Monday, but we could start after that. I'd have to be here with you at all times, of course, so we'd need to schedule time in advance . . . what is it?" Her eyebrows furrowed.
"I am afraid I must decline your offer." L sighed, slumping. "Unfortunately, I have too many other obligations to take on additional work. As much as I enjoy this course, I must pace myself." He struggled to hide his disappointment. If I spend any more time on schoolwork, he thought, it would divert too much of my attention from the case. Also, it is unlikely that I would be able to use this lab to work on the case, considering that I would be under constant observation.
"Well, I'm disappointed to hear that, Mr. Penn." The Professor sighed. "It's rare to have a student who grasps the concepts so readily and shows enthusiasm for the subject. I had hoped that you would be more interested in a challenge."
"Challenge always interests me," L said, one hand slipping into his pocket, "but prudence has its place as well."
"Alright then." She inclined her head slightly, eyes narrowed. "See you Friday morning."
"Thank you, Professor." L turned as they nodded to each other. He would have liked nothing better than to have immersed himself in study, to have absorbed as much information as possible, unraveling DNA strands and re-linking them in different configurations on paper. But he had a job to do. The finger bone had matched the DNA on record for the heart, the fourth drop, though they still did not know to whom those parts belonged. DNA testing had also confirmed that the foot that had been dropped had been Gellie's, and it still rankled that he had had a hand in bringing that about. As to the spleen that had been dropped shortly after Friday's cake social, L had but one guess, and he didn't like it. He wished he could spend more time on his education, but the immediacy of the crimes yet to be unraveled took prevalence over such frivolous things as his wishes and dreams.
A he walked, he wondered if Professor Lachland had had some ulterior motive for wanting him to attend weekend lab with her, but dismissed it. It would be too suspicious a move for a murderer, L thought, and thus cannot be the way the Butcher would draw attention to him- or herself. He became aware of his jaw clenching at almost the same moment that he became aware of a man following him, several paces back.
Abruptly, L stopped on the path, several students bumping into and brushing past him as he bent to worry at the permanently tied laces of his sneakers. Civilian clothing, he thought, peering between his legs, though it could as easily be a policeman as it could be an accomplice of the Butcher, or one of Coil's men, for that matter. The man had stopped as well and was staring off into a copse of trees. He was wearing a knit cap, a dark grey hoodie, and jeans. L had trouble seeing his face clearly, given that he was upside down from L's vantage point and somewhat far away, but the man had a stiff posture and seemed older than the average college student.
Standing up and walking forward again, L decided to head to the cafeteria after all, just to see if his stalker would follow him in. This is a challenge, L thought, that I am more than ready to meet.
#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#~~~~~~~~~~#
Author's Note: You know, if I had read in a fanfic description that L was going to throw a party (and clean up after it!) AND play matchmaker for two other characters, I'd have thought "Whoa – way too OOC," yet here I am including those things in my fic. O_o Granted, L will cheerfully lie when it suits him and has non-altruistic reasons for doing these things, but still – never thought I'd do those things in a fic. Hopefully it wasn't too much of a jump the shark situation for you guys. "Bal de la Moisson" means Harvest Ball, by the way, and for those who don't know, Canadian Thanksgiving occurs on the second Monday in October.
It seems L sort of wishes he could just focus on his education, which is both normal and not, though I doubt he'd truly be satisfied with that. Addiction can take the most unusual forms . . .
OK, this is my last call to vote in my poll – if you haven't done it yet, please go to my profile and let me know if you want this fic to stay T-rated or change to M-rated. If you want to tell me why you think this fic should either stay with its rating or change, just review or send me a message. Any feedback you can give me will be greatly appreciated. Thanks very much to everyone who has voted so far! I'll leave the poll open for a couple more days, but then I'm closing it, so vote now if you want to be heard!
And as ever, thanks for reading!