Disclaimer: I do not own or make money from the anime death note.
Suggested Listening: Tune into My Heart by Little Boots
Part 6
Mello garnered a lot of stares when he stalked into the base that night. He was sweaty, dirty, and limping. Mello was certain that his face was streaked with dirt, and he probably looked like he had just crawled out of a grave. He rather felt that way too.
He didn't bother with niceties as he stormed into the main room where Rod was almost certain to be.
"Next time, tell Rhodes to stay the fuck out of my assignment or get someone else to do it." Mello wished he had some chocolate at the moment if only to simulate what he would like to do to a certain few with his teeth.
Rod waved him off dismissively as though he hadn't known anything about it. Mello was now more than certain he did. If he hadn't, he would have wanted to know what Rhodes had done. If the assassination was as important as that email had made it sound—and Mello was certainly going to be checking into that—then Rod wouldn't have wanted anyone jeopardizing it.
"Sit down and have a drink Mello." Rod laughed gruffly as his hand stroked the skin of the whore next to him. Mello was at least the tiniest bit relieved that Rod wasn't offended by his entrance. It was fine when Mello did things like that to others, but to do it to a Don, even someone like Rod, was hardly a good idea.
Mello sat, grabbed the bottle of vodka and downed half of it in one gulp. The whores stared at him curiously, probably wondering if one of them would be turned over to him for the night. Booze and sex went well in this place.
Mello stared levelly at his boss, who still grinned at him. Rod seemed far too pleased for Mello's liking. "You still have your distraction to deal with?"
Mello nodded. It was more than a fair assessment, though Mello wouldn't really call Matt a distraction. That made him seem like an annoying habit he needed to break, and that wasn't right at all.
"Get out of here." Rod turned his attention back to the whore, and Mello grinned. At least for the moment, he could continue to visit Matt. How long he could continue after this was another story.
Mello almost left the base before he realized he still looked like the walking dead. With a sigh, Mello conceded that he would probably have to take a flight out the next morning after some sleep. Once he got cleaned up, he wouldn't want to do anything other than sleep.
Matt, it seemed, would be waiting.
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Mello had gone to Starbucks right after getting off the plane the next afternoon. But instead of getting the snacks as he usually did, he stopped in at a small deli in the area and grabbed something of a more normal lunch. He was starving, and at least if Matt didn't eat what he brought, Mello wouldn't feel odd about devouring his own.
He had been gone for about a day and a half, and Mello wasn't sure if what little progress he had made would be damaged by his sudden disappearance. The coffee and lunch was almost a bribe, but as Mello knocked on Matt's door, he decided it was too late to care.
Matt opened the door almost cautiously as though he wasn't certain who to expect. It opened fully once Matt laid eyes on the leather, and Mello grinned at him as he trudged inside and deposited everything on the kitchen counter.
He had only been absent for less than two days, and Mello wasn't sure if it was his imagination or not, but Matt appeared a little relieved at seeing him. Could have been the food, but Mello doubted it.
"You're here late," Matt commented softly.
Mello ignored the jab as he set out the food and coffee. "I had urgent business to take care of. I didn't have time to come back here. I couldn't call you either..." Mello trailed off and busied himself with unwrapping his meatball sub.
"Because you don't have my number," Matt finished. He couldn't see Matt's expression, but to him, the silence was all telling. Mello did not regret not bringing his phone with him; he wouldn't be needing it.
"Where did you go for these?" Matt motioned to the food, and Mello struggled to remember the name of the place. He hadn't been paying the best of attention when he went there. Why couldn't the owners have put their name on the bags like everyone else?
"It was a small place maybe ten minutes from here. I don't know the name. I can find out if you end up liking the food." Mello shrugged. He seated himself at the tiny kitchen table and smiled around a bite of food as Matt wheeled into the open space beside him to eat his own food. It felt like a victory to Mello.
"How did you know I would like this?" Matt asked.
Mello had gotten him a chicken cordon bleu hot sub and felt he had the right to be smug about it.
"You once told me that your uncle used to make the actual dish once every few months." He knew Matt; he might not know him all that well anymore, but he had. Matt only nodded, the simplest of gestures showing he had even listened to Mello's answer.
There wasn't any conversation going on, but it wasn't tense, and Mello didn't feel uncomfortable or unwelcome for once. It was a nice change from what he had gotten used to.
"You should find out the name," Matt told him in between bites, and Mello nodded. It seemed he had scored with that little deli.
And though he would have liked to stay longer, he stood up the moment both he and Matt had finished their food. Tossing everything in the trash, Mello stretched his arms high above his head and let out a small sigh at the joints that popped. Sitting in planes always left him sore.
"I'm going to head out. I'm just too tired to do anything right now," Mello said. And it was true. He was tired, jet lagged, full and wanted nothing more than to curl up in a bed and sleep.
Matt had opened an energy drink and motioned to Mello, silently asking if he wanted something.
Mello hesitated. "Do you have any soda?" The caffeine would help for the drive back, and Mello didn't really want to stop anywhere else if he could help it.
Matt wheeled over to a tall white cabinet, one that he had to have added after getting the apartment as it was not the same sort of dingy, and pulled it open. Matt tossed a can of root beer at him, and Mello grinned. He had taken a liking to the flavor somewhere around his fifth year at Wammy's, and for months, it had been the only thing he would drink. It was nice that Matt hadn't forgotten.
"I should be here sometime tomorrow," Mello told him, although uncertainly. He had no way of knowing if something else would mysteriously crop up and prevent him from doing so. Only time would tell.
"Mello, hold on a second would you?" Matt asked, wheeling away for something in the living room.
Mello was tired and practically asleep on his feet, but from Matt's tone, he wasn't doing it to be a bastard, at least not this time. Matt came back with a small slip of paper and handed it to Mello. Blinking, Mello took the paper and stared at it. It was a number.
To be precise, it was a cell phone number.
Matt's number.
Mello grinned and looked down at Matt, who rolled his eyes and shoved him out the door. He heard the grumpy sounding "goodbye, Mello" from the other side of the door and almost laughed.
This was a good thing. A very good thing.
Popping the can of soda open and taking a long sip, Mello prepared himself for the long trip back to his temporary home.
-End Part 6-
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AN: See I told you I would update soon :) for those who celebrate thanksgiving, or just like turkey, happy holidays :)
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Special thanks to reviewers: Keono, Deadly Nightshade1395, XnikesStripesX, issagokurosaki, BeyondMySanity
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