A/N: Slightly coming out of my writer's block. Hope you enjoy.
-
Escort to Happiness.
Nine.
-
Next Friday night the streets were lit up in fiery luminescence and the burning speed of L's Mercedes tires on the pavement. The streetlights were flashing green and yellow around him as he cruised down the ten blocks he had to travel. The sound of his own music was drowning out the beats of others - a group of young teens at the last light who insisted that everyone must suffer their music and another young woman he just passed who had Jesse McCartney cranked up to brain-bleed.
He tapped the steering wheel lightly with his index fingers as he sat just outside the Cool Springs apartment building. The front door was held open by their weekend doorman and Raito came strolling out, the wind lightly blowing at his tawny bangs and his coat tossed over his shoulder. He didn't give the black Mercedes waiting for him a glance until he came right upon it and opened the door, sliding into the passenger's seat.
"Nice of you to finally show up," Raito huffed, securing his seatbelt. He still hadn't made eye-contact with L.
L raised an eyebrow as he turned off the curb and back into traffic. "What do you mean? I'm two minutes early."
"I haven't seen you in more than a week," Raito said, crossing his arms.
"Oh, is that what it is?"
They slowed at the light as it reddened.
"Yes, that is what it is."
L sat back, faking a fatigued sigh. "I can only give so much attention to both you and Mello. Do not be so short-tempered, after all, he is the one with the dead friend, a hole in his life. I am simply trying to fill that hole with foodstuffs."
Raito shot a glare at L. "What about my hole, huh?"
"Do you have to be so obscene?"
"You've forgotten all about me! It's Mello this and Mello that and Mello has a healthy appetite this and Mello is a feisty kitten that. It's disgusting. Honestly, L, a man your age should have more constraint! What would our CEO say if he saw this? A valued member of our team running about town with a young boy? Masquerading as a flower vender? And for what? Road-kill? Our company has been under siege since your departure and here you are prancing like a pony with some blond firecracker! W-Why, this is no different than prostitution! You give this boy free meals and what do you get in return? To see him in that leather outfit? It's because he's young, isn't it? Oh, that twenty-two year old body, you think to yourself! How you must miss university days! People running around scantily clad! There's a name for people like you, L. You've become a sugar daddy! That's right, I said it. And the company is paying for these late-night ventures of yours! Paid vacation my foot! You need to get yourself back where you belong! What about when the checks stop coming, L? Have you thought about that? I think-"
"Ah, here we are."
Raito blinked, his finger in mid-wag, and looked up to find them on the curb of a restaurant. The valet, dressed in a red vest and black slacks came up to the door and opened it with a flourish for Raito and the brunet sighed and stepped out. The sidewalk was paved with people and the lights from the outside of DiMaggio's were making rose-shaped circles of light on the sidewalk.
L came around the car and walked along side Raito, scratching the back of his head. "You sure are riled up, tonight, Raito," he said. "You're much like a firecracker yourself. I have not forgotten about you, I've only been busy."
"Busy, right. L, I'm worried about you," Raito said finally after the hostess showed them to their table. It was in the back of the restaurant by a row of large windows and the light was a soft glow. When the waitress went away to fetch the wine, Raito eyed his business partner's sitting position idly, used to it as he was and sighed. "You're spending all this money…"
L shook his head appreciatively. "You should be my accountant, Raito, so concerned as you are. But in all honesty, I'm not spending that much at all anymore."
"You said your new plan was to lavish him with meals and fancy dinners," Raito said, waving his hand. "Young men eat a lot and quite often."
"Yes but mostly, he enjoys things like Taco Bell and Burger King."
"Ugh," Raito groaned, turning his nose up.
"Oh, you frown now but this is from someone who used to enjoy such greasiness as Slim Jims."
"Yes, well… I gave those up for my health's sake."
"You mean for your thighs' sake."
"L."
L ignored this scolding and was thankful when the wine came. He sipped and glanced at Raito's nonchalant gulping. He finally put the glass down and sighed, "It's so good to have something other than coffee…"
"Oh, I see. Is the coffee the cause of your earlier sermon?"
"Probably."
"I should instruct Near to interpose decaf," L said thoughtfully. "Maybe some tea. And how is he anyway?"
"I'm under the extreme impression he aspires to be like you," Raito said distractedly, pouring himself another glass.
L blinked. "What makes you say that?"
"He talks about you… well, when he's not in the kitchen fetching unwanted drinks or typing loudly outside my door. He asks how you are fairing with Mello and when and if you're coming back."
"That's nice."
"Oh, and he's gotten really good at that staring-thing you like to do."
L looked at Raito questioningly.
"Yeah, that," Raito said.
"Why does he stare at you?" L asked.
"Waiting for instructions, I guess. I've learned to ignore him though. Eventually, he'll stop it and go away and when he comes back I'll have another cup of coffee on my desk."
-
Near River was not much of a gossiper by nature. As a matter of fact, he had minimal interest in what others in the office were going on about and especially if it wasn't business-related. As he passed people in the hallway and they leant up against the wall and talked about which celebrity lost their virginity for the fifth time or what CEO of a neighboring company was scandalized, he felt high above them even from his five foot stature.
He was not here for sophomoric hearsay but work and work alone. As he walked through the hallways and into the kitchen, he thought of Mr. Lawliet and how he had been so faithfully efficient at his job when he was around. But with him gone, lately, Near was feeling that IDM was all but going to hell. The merger with the Oak Group - a completely unstable ally as far as Near was concerned - was happening at a break-neck pace and there was little that was being done to stop it. The employees were lethargic and the CEO seemed to feel that his hands were tied. Near believed firmly that only Mr. Lawliet could right this wrong but since he was currently saving the day in a flower shop and Mr. Yagami was knee-deep in jealousy, it would be up to Near.
It was early Monday afternoon when he was making his fourth run to the kitchen and thinking of how he could get IDM out of this horrible position it was being forced into. The hallways were alive with co-workers who had wandered away from their desks. Once in the kitchen, Near walked past Mrs. Weatherly over to the coffee machine. She smiled at his arrival and said over her Dixie cup, "Hello, Near, how are you today?"
"Oh," he hummed, looking at the different creamers, "I'm good."
She waited for a 'And yourself?' but never received one and sighed impatiently, tapping on the side of her cup. "What are you up to?" she asked.
"Coffee is needed," he said.
"… Is it really?"
He looked over his shoulder at her, freezing her idle movements with an icy stare. She blinked and stumbled over some forced laughter as he turned back to his coffee machine.
"So," she drawled, eyes rolling up towards the speckled ceiling, "how's your internship going? I heard Mr. Yagami's been showing you the ropes."
"I have not seen ropes. But I am learning more and more everyday."
More silence. Mrs. Weatherly had not thought that everyday conversation would be so hard. Was she really so detached from the younger generation? Her gaze fell on the refrigerator over in the corner, its gentle hum the only sound in the room. She perked up a little and said, "Oh, Near, did you hear about the Lunchbox Bandit?"
"Pardon?" he mumbled, fidgeting with the coffee filters.
"The Lunchbox Bandit has been sneaking around the past week and has been stealing food from the refrigerator. Andy got his special brownies stolen that his wife made him. And Jeffrey's iced tea was all gone, too. We're not sure if it's anyone on this floor or not but…" Mrs. Weatherly blinked when Near stopped with the coffee machine and turned around, sending her an odd look.
"Stealing food?" he asked.
"Yeah, that's right."
"But…" Near blinked and crossed the tiled floor to the fridge, remembering that he often put things like fruit and other food in there for snacks and lunches. He opened the door and the shelves were stacked and he searched their contents but did not find his sandwich he had placed in there that morning.
"Near? Did you get hit by the Bandit?"
There was silence, more rummaging, and finally Near emerged with a sandwich in a Ziploc bag. He looked down at it, blinked, and Mrs. Weatherly came over to see. There was a large bite taken out of it.
"H-He put it back," she said, surprised.
"He must not like turkey," Near said, a little put off.
When Near made his way back to Raito's office, he held a cup of coffee in one hand and his decimated sandwich in another. He knocked on the door with the toe of his shoe and Raito called for him to come in from the other side.
Raito looked up at Near's entrance, his head propped up by one hand. "Hey, Near, did you get those files out to the fifth floor?"
"I did but I must show you something," he said and plopped the Ziploc bag down on the desk. Raito looked down at it and wrinkled his nose.
"What's this?"
"The sanctity of my lunch has been violated," Near said in what was probably an indignant tone. "I would like to know what you plan to do about this."
"… Oh, is this that Lunchbox Bandit I've been hearing so much about?"
"Yes."
"Well… he didn't steal it."
"It is contaminated."
Raito raised an eyebrow at Near but on this he seemed immovable. Raito had to admit, privately of course, that this whole thing was pretty disgusting. He sighed and looked at his watch briefly.
"It's after lunchtime and I'm getting pretty hungry as well. Would you like to go out to eat?"
Near blinked. "It is not hand-outs I am after; I desire justice for this wrong-doing."
"It's a sandwich!" Raito protested.
"It is my sandwich. I am deeply malcontented."
Raito folded his arms across his chest. "You can either be malcontented here or come with me and be malcontented and full. Choose."
Near huffed and set the coffee cup down. "Fine."
-
Across town out front of a flower shop was a young blond who swept contentedly along the sidewalk. The light breeze that assisted him in blowing candy wrappers and flyers from the front of the store helped and Mello felt slightly content. It wasn't often within the past week that he had gotten much alone time - time like this that he used to use for thinking. L had been around him, at work and at lunch and at dinner and they even went out to breakfast a few times. Mello almost licked his lips just thinking about all the food he had eaten and without paying a single dime.
Because of that and his now minimal food bill, he could spend the money on more needful things like the rent he'd been backed up on since Matt's death. Matt never had any real income save for the unemployment checks he sometimes got and that helped a little but really, Mello had been paying most of the amenities on his own. When Matt and Mello moved out together, the day they were taking Matt's clothes from his house, Mello remembered Matt's mother charging him with the welfare of her son. Maybe that was why she hadn't said anything to him at the funeral - he'd failed in his job.
As unfair a job as it was. He got no pay from looking after the brat and no thanks either. Either way he looked at it, Matt was a nuisance and, for that matter, so was L. But L gave him free food while Matt had given him headaches.
While Mello thought quietly to himself, sweeping in a circular motion, he neglected to notice the middle-aged homeless man who went shuffling into the shop behind him. The bell rang and L, who had been manning the counter, looked up expectantly.
"Hello, sir, how may I be of service?" he asked as the man approached the counter.
The man seemed rather out of place - his multiple jackets torn and his stench like that of an unflushed toilet. There was a sign on the door that read, 'No Shirts, No Shoes, No Service,' but the man had a shirt and badly-worn shoes so L didn't see a problem.
"Uhh… I, uh, you see," he mumbled, "today's my mom's birthday and I, uh, I, uh, wanted to, uh, give her some flowers…"
L nodded. "Well, have you considered what kind?"
"Uh, no…"
"There are many different-"
"Good gravy! L, what's that horrible odor?" Rosie called, poking her head in from the back room. Her eyes widened upon seeing the same homeless man that had set up camp in front of the shop almost two week prior. She gasped and shouted, "Mello! Mello!"
L blinked, startled. "Rosie? What's-"
"What's going on in here?" Mello asked, eyeing the place as the bell rang over his head. He caught sight of the hobo immediately and raised his broom to beat the man out of the store.
L raised an eyebrow and came around the counter to stop the crazed blond. "Mello, what are you doing? This is a customer."
"No, it's not! It's a hobo! God, L, what kind of customers are you used to?"
"I, uh, I just wanted to buy, uh-"
"He wishes to make a purchase," said L, standing between the two men.
Mello lowered the broom suspiciously. He narrowed his eyes at the fumbling hobo. "You have money?"
"Uhhh…"
"See, I knew it!"
"I, uh, I can trade…"
Mello frowned deeply. "We're not an Arabian bazaar, we're a flower shop! We don't accept trades!"
"Now wait a minute, Mello," Rosie said, finally coming out of hiding behind the threshold. She held up her pointer finger. "Let's see what he's got."
"I concur," L said and nodded.
"What?" Mello moaned.
The man hobbled up to the counter and Rosie took over as proprietor, telling Mello to go pout elsewhere and he took that as his signal for a lunch break. He said, "C'mon, L, let's get outta here!" and L gladly took the invitation, well aware that he was invited for the honor of paying the bill.
When they were outside, Mello, the only one without apron, stretched his arms over his head. "Can we please go somewhere that doesn't give me a brain freeze this time?" he yawned.
L smiled lightly. "Well, it's your choice."
"Great, then we're going to Sbarro. Man, I kinda feel bad about leaving Rosie in there with that guy. He could pull one over on her, you know, trade her some magical beans for five bouquets."
"I doubt that she is that naïve."
Mello rolled his eyes towards the sky as they turned the corner. "Really? Well, maybe, but he's still some bum. What if he tries to take advantage of her?"
"If you were so worried, why did you leave her?"
"I'm hungry."
"I see," L hummed and as they neared their destination, he noticed two people on the other side of the street. L squinted and recognized the brunet and the little white-haired intern almost immediately. He checked to see if Mello had seen and was about to redirect Mello to another restaurant but then Near turned to see L and waved. L blanched and Mello looked over at the young boy.
"Hey, L, isn't that the little kid who bought all those flowers? He's waving."
"Yes, but we must go-"
"Hey, wait a minute! I know that guy!" Mello straightened his posture and Raito turned around to see who Near was waving to. His eyes widened and Mello shouted across the road, "Hey! You! Stalker!"
"Mello," L said, attempting to calm the blond but he went unheard.
On the other side of the street, Raito grabbed Near by the wrist like a mother dragging her child out of Disney Land and headed away from the restaurant. Mello seemed not able to let it go and was about to jump off the curb after them when L stuck out his foot and Mello fell flat on his face in the street.
L looked up and Raito and Near were gone. Mello began to recover from his fall.
"L, what the fucking hell was that?" he shouted, blue eyes blazing as he stood and brushed himself off. He looked across the street to find his supposed stalker, the man who had given him so much money, gone. "Fuck, he's gone!"
"I'm sorry, Mello, my foot slipped."
Mello narrowed his gaze. "I don't believe that!"
"Why were you so riled?"
"That man! Listen, I never told you this, but I have a stalker," Mello said confidently.
"Really?"
"Yes, really. That guy there was the one who gave me a two hundred dollar tip for selling him a flower. And then, I got this anonymous donation at a clothing store. He bought me some expensive-ass leather! I also think he's the one who sent me a huge bouquet of sunflowers… So, you see, he's a giant freak who's in love with me. Maybe even a bigger freak than you, L."
"That is interesting."
"Don't mock me!"
"I'm not," L said, placing a hand on Mello's shoulder in sympathy.
Mello shrugged the hand off. "Well, I'm going to find that guy and pop him a good one." He watched the opposing sidewalk for any sight of him but there was none. "But… what was he doing with that little pipsqueak from your old work?"
"I haven't the slightest. Perhaps your stalker has lost interest in you in favor of Near."
"Ha! I'm way better looking than that guy."
L had to stifle a laugh.
-
About thirty minutes later, after L had persuaded Mello to go inside and eat pizza, they returned to the flower shop to find the homeless man gone and Rosie sitting at the counter with a small bag of gold coins.
Mello blinked widely. "Aw, shit! Rosie, what'd you do?"
She grinned and held the bag aloft. At closer inspection, they were not gold coins but chocolate coins wrapped in golden aluminum. "Look, boys! Sweets! That poor hobo only had this on him and it was for a good cause so I traded."
L came over to help her eat them. "Very wise," he said, mouth full.
"Don't encourage her!" Mello protested.
"Here, Mello, there's one with your name on it," Rosie teased, holding one up for him. Mello grabbed it and ate it broodingly and thought, The sort of people I surround myself with…
-
To be continued.
-
A/N: Thanks for your patience. Final exams are this week but I'll still be working on this and you know how my summers are. Its all for you guys. Please review!
