The beginning of this scene will seem familiar, he-he...

Also this is a very short chapter-my apologies...

Chapter 11: Puzzles

SPK Headquarters, present

Click.

Clack.

Clink.

A little silver ball hurled its way down an obstacle course of translucent yellow tubes, clanking from side to side as it went. Lying on his stomach on the floor, a young boy watched its progress, his only movement the movement of his eyes as they followed the ball on its rapid, hair-brained course. The ball continued to roll, until it finally exited the last tube and fell into a small plastic slot attached to a tiny crane, which lowered it into the welcoming seat of a see-saw, which then dropped it into another set of convoluted plastic tubes, these painted red. The boy watched as the silver ball continued on its journey, propelled by the unbreakable laws of physics, his restless brain already rushing ahead to mentally create another separate trail designed from dominoes and metal slides and tiny colorful roller coaster tracks set on a dais of plastic scaffolding. He envisioned it all, created it from the dust of his too-active brain, his mind altering and bending the structure in order to obey the laws of gravity, in order to bend gravity to his will. And so Near's mind went. It went on to build and add to the already complex Rube Goldberg structure, plotting and planning, even as half his brain was engaged somewhere else.

Even as half his brain was engaged with someone else.

There was the shuffling of footsteps on the floor behind him. Without ever taking his eyes from the ball, Near took the photo of Mello from his pocket, lifted it over his shoulder and said to the man behind him:

"Commander Rester. Have you found him yet?"

There was a frustrated sigh, and a deep voice intoned, "No, not yet." A small pause, and then the voice said: "Near, are you...are you sure you're alright with working both these cases at once?"

The pale boy on the floor, dressed in equally pale pajamas, replied flatly: "I am perfectly capable of handling both, Commander Rester." He lifted a hand, twirled an index finger around a rogue lock of his bushy hair. "If that is all, Commander, you may consider yourself dismissed."

Near felt the older man's hesitation, felt it in his inability to turn and leave right away. It seemed he wanted to say something else. Near turned his profile slightly and asked, "Is there something more, Commander Rester?" There was the undeniable timbre of steel in his voice, the hint of an unbreakable metal.

"No. Nothing." Near heard Rester turn on his heel, heard his shoes slap noisily across the floor in the opposite direction. Near shut his eyes in quiet consternation. It wasn't exactly true, what he had told Rester. He wasn't exactly 'alright' with fighting a battle on two different fronts. But it didn't matter, because both had to be done. Both had to be fought. It was imperative. Near had two obstacles to clear, two objectives in mind:

One: Corner and capture Kira, and...

Two: Keep Mello from inadvertently getting himself killed.

Both objectives were hard. Both were equally fraught with difficulty. Even with Near's formidable, busy brain, it was hard to keep tabs on both. To try and stay a step ahead of both. And what was worse, Near had lost Mello's location again.

Again.

Mello, thought Near, Why must you always be such a danger to yourself? Why court such self-destruction? Near, for his part, would do anything in his power to protect Mello. Even if it meant protecting Mello from his own rash and impulsive judgments. Even if it meant interfering where he wasn't wanted. Even if his help was rejected outright by Mello himself.

Even if Mello scorned him for it.

And Near knew what Mello would say to such help. He could hear the conversation, clear as a cloudless day in his head. Mello would sneer at him and say, "Go away Near. I am more than capable of handling things on my own."

"No, you're not. You're demonstrably incapable of handling such a task."

"And why do you care what happens to me anyway. Huh? Why are you dogging my steps like this?"

"Don't you know?"

"Know? Well, I can guess. It's because you feel guilty, because you beat me at school. Because you took a title that should have rightfully been mine. Because you did nothing to stop me when I left the orphanage all those years ago. Guilt-guilt is your motivating emotion here."

"You're wrong, Mello. Wrong as usual. Guilt isn't the emotion driving me here at all..."

"Near?"

Near blinked rapidly, the only sign that he'd been startled by the sound of his name being called. He had been so wrapped up in the imaginary conversation he was having inside his head, that he had failed to hear Halle's softer, stealthier approach. Like Rester, there was a note of concern in her voice. But unlike Rester, Near felt he could speak to Halle on a slightly more emotional level.

"I think I missed something," Near whispered. He turned to look over his shoulder at Halle. He watched her pale, delicately shaped eyebrows knit together in confusion.

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about O'Malley," said Near in his usual soft, confident voice. "I think I may have overlooked something there."

"But Near, you did a full investigation on O'Malley. Into his life as Rohan McCready. You found his mob connections; you even found his possible connection to Mello. Isn't that everything?"

"No. It's not. I think I'm missing a piece of the puzzle." Near picked up a figure made out of legos and began to ruthlessly dismantle it, his handling of the toy his only outward expression of his inside frustration.

"But we got everything on O'Malley. Didn't we?"

"We got everything on Rohan McCready. The person he used to be." Near paused thoughtfully in the middle of removing a lego-shaped arm. "But not O'Malley; we don't really know that much about him."

Confusion cast horizontal lines across Halle's pretty face. "But we do know about O'Malley, Near. He lived with his uncle, Franklin McCready, in London for about four years. In fact, his uncle's gallery is where he had his first showing of his photography. After that, his career took off. He's been doing that ever since. And for the past year, he's been living here in L.A."

"Something's still not right," Near muttered irritably to himself as much as to Halle. He viciously yanked off a blue lego leg. "I've missed something," he repeated. Near stared off into space, and thought back to the confrontation at O'Malley's apartment. How the photographer had relapsed into violence which such fluid ease. And Irish mobsters weren't known to be so forgiving...

Near straightened himself into a sitting position on the floor. He looked at Halle and said, "Bring me the file on O'Malley. I'm going to look at it again."

Halle narrowed her eyes, but answered with an obedient, "Yes, sir." Near listened as her heels clicked smartly across the SPK's immaculate tiled floor.

Near hesitated only for a brief moment, before taking out Mello's photo and looking at it. He spoke directly to the photo, because it was all he had, because it was all he could do. This small image, this totem, was all he had for a partner:

"Mello, I really hope I can solve this puzzle before it kills you..."

End Chapter 11.