Death Note Fan Fiction ❯ Keep Your Friends Close But Your Enemies Closer ❯ A Metaphorical Journey of the Soul ( Chapter 13 )

Chapter 14: A Metaphorical Journey of the Soul

A/N: We've decided to take a break from our previous humorous endeavors and talk candidly about an issue we both feel strongly about: feral children. We hope that this chapter will reflect this dire issue in all its seriousness. No fun shall be had. Fun is out of the picture. NON DIVERTIDO. So, on with the show, or as they would say in Zen Buddhism, “one with the soul.”

The cool city night air caressed Raito's face, ruffling his hair in an affectionate manner, much like he wished L would do.

Ahead of him, barely visible in the midnight gloom, was L, sashaying seductively. Every once in a while he would cast a backwards glance at Raito, and his words would carry over the breeze, “Come, Raito, we must go out and detective in the night.”

And that's when it all went sour. The children attacked, feral, untamed creatures of insurmountable beauty. The wild beings surrounded them at every turn and cut off all chances of escape. “Coo coo ca choo,” they said, or, as they would say in Zen Buddhism, “one with the soul.” It became a chant, a mantra that struck terror into the hearts of even the strongest men. But Raito and L were not just men. They were X-Men. Sex-men. Sexy-men. Who could ask for anything more?

Just kidding. : )

A/N: Blame Lauren. Entirely. Now now, Liz, let's not play the Blame Game. The Blame Game is for children. Feral children. Yes Ren, which, may I remind you, you came up with. Ha-HAH! ON WITH THE SHOW! REALLY! Which is actually a gaiden, not the real story, because we're lazy. And we have raitoer's block. Also all of the above was part of the author's note to avoid violating FFN policy.

Warnings: Rampant drug use. And some yaoi. (snicker)

A “Pundle” of Fun: Chapter 13.523….7 “Raitos, camera, action!”

Raito sighed, running a hand exasperatedly through his hair. His father seriously underestimated him if he was still assigning Raito to these types of missions. Really, an undercover stakeout could easily be assigned to someone of much a much lower level of competence, even if he had only been with the Kira investigation for a few months.

It had only rubbed it in when he'd found out he'd been assigned with Matsuda, of all people. Not that a stakeout wasn't right down Matsuda's proverbial alley, what with his totally non-proverbial lack in the intelligence department…even though that happened to be exactly where he worked.

Which was why Raito was so surprised when the person who opened the car door to join him in his stakeout wasn't Matsuda, but L. He didn't know the man very well, except that he was not someone to be trifled with.

“I'm sorry I'm late, Yagami-kun. I got lost on the way here. I wasn't sure if I was going in the right-o direction,” he said nonchalantly, slipping into the seat beside Raito.

Raiot narrowed his eyes. Had L just intentionally used a pun on his name? He hated puns with a burning passion. “Oh, you did, did you?” he asked icily.

L nodded. “Yeah, I made a raito turn instead of a left turn at one point, but I got on the raito track eventually.” Opening a package of cookies, he yelped when a few fell out. He reached up and flicked on the dome light to search for the little baked goodies miscreants.

“Turn off the raito!” Raito hissed menacingly. “We're on a stakeout, you cookie-munching imbecile!”

“Are you scared, Raito?” L challenged.

“No, Ryuuzaki, I am not!” He punctuated his assertive statement with a flick of his hair. “I was just wondering why you were assigned to this stakeout in the first place. Wasn't Matsuda-san supposed to be my partner today?” he said contemptuously.

“Matsuda-san came down with a cold. The doctor prescribed lots of rest, raito away,” L replied nonchalantly.

Raito retaliated by switching off the raito suddenly, his arm flying haphazardly through the air and knocking L in the face mid-cookie crunch. The bag of cookies slipped from L's fingertips, its delicious contents spilling all over the floor of the car.

 

L's head swiveled to look at Raito, his lamp-like eyes full of intensity and astonishment. “You spilled my cookies.”

 

Raito held his features even, although he made a mental sneer. “This is a stakeout. You shouldn't be eating cookies anyway,” he replied, turning away.

 

L was silent for a moment, still staring intently at Raito. “…But I don't like steak,” he murmured. “I much prefer cookies.”

 

This time Raito actually did sneer. “Pick those things up off the floor. This is a rental car, you know.”

 

L glanced around at the crumby mess. “Yagami-kun, I'm still hungry,” he said simply, not making any move to clean up the cookies.

 

“And what do you want me to do about it?” Raito snapped back. “We're on a stakeout, we can't just up and go to a bakery to satisfy your every craving, Ryuuzaki, and I honestly think that you should take your position as L a little more seriously if this is your normal stakeout behavior!”

 

"A bakery!" L shouted in delight. "What a great idea, Yagami-kun! I knew you were a genius!"

With that, L lunged at the steering wheel, knocking Raito out of his way and twisting the keys into the ignition at the same time. He quickly slid himself into Raito's seat, with Raito also still sitting in it, and pressed his foot onto the pedal, speeding away from the parking lot.

“What the…! What are you doing?!” Raito gasped in a muffled manner, half squashed by L.

“Taking us to a bakery. That stakeout didn't even have anything to do with the Kira case, and technically neither of us is on the police force anyway so we shouldn't have to do work like this,” L shouted as he rolled down the windows, the evening air blowing through his feathered hair.

“You can't do that! You can't just drive away from a stakeout like that!” Raito shouted back, astonished at this man's behavior.

“Look!” L whispered suddenly, grabbing Raito's upper arm for emphasis, seeming to forget that he needed to actually steer the car while driving.

“What?” Raito half-asked, half-demanded, grabbing the wheel in L's absence and slamming on the brakes.

“Raito over there,” L answered, pointing past Raito towards a sketchy looking man who was clearly hiding something under his coat, standing under a nearby lamppost.

“That's the guy!” Raito said, looking back at L. “That's the guy we're after.” He thought of a plan quickly. “Here's the deal. You go out and pretend to accept his drugs, buying me some time to make a quick and discreet call to the police. Got it?”

L frowned. “So this is a drug bust?” he asked disdainfully.

Raito glared at him. “Yes. Is that a problem for you?” he demanded. “We can let the criminal walk free, even though he's right here, if that's what you want.

L shook his head. “Oh, no, I'll do it,” L said with a sigh.

Raito glared, but inclined his head towards to guy, who had relocated to lean against a brick wall. “Shall we?” he offered, hand on the door handle.

“Raito now,” L agreed, and slid over Raito's lap to get out of the car on the driver's side.

The drug dealer looked up and nodded at him. Raito took his cue to call the police.

L approached the dealer confidently, stopping three feet away from him.

Raito could just barely hear L ask, “Hey…you have the goods?” before he hit the emergency alert button on his police-issue cell phone, whispering the situation and their location into the small speaker.

For about thirty seconds, all was silent, and L and the dealer gestured to each other, although Raito couldn't hear what they were talking about. Then suddenly, sirens blared, lights flashed, and the police reinforcements surrounded them. Startled, the drug dealer made to run, but the officers were out and handcuffing him before he could get more than a few feet.

Raito slipped out of the car and walked up beside L, intent on congratulating him for the successful bust. He was instead distracted by the mischievous smile on L's face.

“What?” Raito asked, raising an eyebrow.

L, looking serene, pulled out a suspiciously large ziplock bag full of what looked like brown goop.

“What is that?” Raito asked disgustedly, eyeing it suspiciously while the police were engrossed in arresting the drug dealer.

L dispassionately opened it. Dipping in a finger, he spooned out a dollop and licked it.

Raito stared at him in horror and disbelief. “You did not just—” he began in shock.

“Mmm,” L interrupted him. “It's uncooked brownie batter. Premium quality.” Raito watched with fascinated distaste as L sampled another fingerful. “Ghirardelli double chocolate,” he specified, then frowned. “No, no,” he changed his mind, “my mistake. Fudge swirl.”

L slipped the bag of brownie batter inside his coat and smiled becomingly at Raito.

Raito managed to shake off shocked haze and blinked. “You can't take that! Was that from the dealer?” he protested in a low voice, while the police shoved the drug dealer into the backseat of a police car.

“Oh, like they don't have enough evidence already,” L scoffed. “What's the harm in brownie batter?” he demanded. “Just think of the soft, fluffy moist blend of eggs, cocoa powder, oil, cream, chocolate, and other deliciousness just begging to be devoured.”

“It could be contaminated,” Raito pointed out haughtily. “Didn't think of that, did you?”

L eyed Raito demurely. “I tasted no such contamination in my sampling,” he countered. “Why, Raito,” he continued, “could it be that you're scared of a harmless bag of brownie batter?”

“No, L, I am not!” Raito denied vehemently. “Fine, keep your precious brownie batter. See if I care.”

“Oh yes,” L sighed, “my precious.” He patted a lumpy part of his coat and smiled.

Raito chose to ignore his unwanted partner's mutterings and observed their surroundings. “I think we're about done here,” he said more confidently. “We can probably go back to the car.”

“How anticlimactic,” L murmured as they strolled to their respective cars. “But ever so enraitoening.”

“I'm glad,” Raito said bitterly, slipping into the driver's seat of his car. All was silent for a moment, until he decided to suck up to L a little. The man was, after all, investigating him as a suspect in the largest case of serial killings ever. “You still want to go to that bakery?” he asked L, who stood outside his window.

L assumed a thoughtful expression. “How about the hotel?” he suggested innocently. “I can bake the batter and we can both enjoy the fruits…” L paused, wistfully wondering if he could incorporate strawberries into his brownie batter. That would be truly enchanting. “…Of my labor,” he finished, almost forgetting in his fantastical pastry musings that he had to finish his sentence.

“Hm,” Raito began shrewdly. He had no desire to go back to the hotel, but if it would allow him to monitor L and get an idea of his capabilities, he was all for it. Besides, it was better than a bakery. “Sure,” he agreed with a casual shrug. “Sounds delicious.”

L's smile widened. “I hope you will enjoy the brownies as much as I will,” he murmured.

“Me too,” Raito muttered, unaware of any deeper, more ominous meanings L's innocent statement might have. With a sigh he started up the car as L moved into the passenger seat.

 

L opened the door to the hotel room and crept inside in his L-like manner, while Raito followed behind with an apprehensive look. “Are we the only ones here?” he asked, trying to find L in the darkness.

“Yes, I think so,” he heard L answer from somewhere in front of him. “Turn on the raito, would you? I think it's on the wall to your left.”

Raito groped around and found the switch, flooding the room with raito. “I wasn't aware the hotel room had a kitchenette,” he remarked, watching as L got out a large rectangular pan from a cupboard and proceeded to spread the brownie batter into the pan.

“I think that looks about even,” L murmured to himself, while Raito turned his attention inwards, thinking back over the possible implications of L's annoying attachment to his person and what ulterior motives the clever little imp might be harboring.

In the midst of his inward musings, he was vaguely aware that L was asking him a question.

“…top or bottom?” L finished.

Raito blinked. “Excuse me?” he asked, managing to curtail his disbelief. “What did you just ask me?” It couldn't…it couldn't have possibly been…that.

“In the oven,” L repeated patiently, gesturing towards the open oven door with one potholder sheathed hand. “Should I use the top or bottom rack?”

Relieved, Raito peered over L's shoulder to gauge the distance between the racks, the top one of which was brand-new and gleaming. “Nice rack,” he said approvingly.

L whirled his head around to pin Raito with an inquisitive stare. “Oh,” he said, following Raito's gaze to the oven. “Thanks.”

“I'd like to be on top,” Raito finally answered, while L's eyes widened almost unnoticeably, “…If I were brownies, about to be baked,” he finished.

“Oh yes, I certainly wouldn't want to be on bottom,” L agreed, gesturing at the distance to the bottom rack. “I'd never get done.”

“Top it is then,” Raito decided for them, wondering if he was imagining the undercurrents of innuendo in their conversation.

(A/N: We aren't! ^^)

He hoped so.

“Should be done in forty to forty-five minutes,” L said, setting a timer. “Whatever shall we do until then?”

 

When the timer sounded thirty-five minutes later, L was thoroughly engrossed in a copy of the Gideon's Bible and Raito was bored to tears…tears in the wallpaper, which he had been discreetly shredding for a good half hour.

“Oh goody,” L crooned. “The brownies are finito. Finito bonito. Shall we partake?” he asked, a butter knife in his hand poised impatiently over the brownies.

“Aren't you going to let them cool?” Raito asked dubiously.

“I'm cool enough already,” L shrugged. “But I will partake of their hotness.”

“Fine,” Raito said grudgingly. “But I'm just going to have one.”

Fifteen minutes later, the pan was empty.

“Urgh, I feel ill,” Raito muttered indistinctly from the foot of the bed. L was perched on the edge of the bed, and the empty pan had been discarded to one side.

L hummed. “I'm sure you just overate,” he assured Raito, trying to mask a crafty smile with a look of oblivious bemusement.

“No, I feel kind of…lightheaded,” Raito frowned. The sensation was only getting stronger. Heightened senses…carefree attitude…Raito risked a glance at L. L had promised him that the brownies were clean of drugs. But what if he had intentionally lied to him, to loosen his inhibitions and make him susceptible to interrogation? What if he had in fact purchased those brownies from the dealer, with full knowledge that they did, in fact, contain illegal additives. No, Raito decided, L wouldn't subject himself to sense-addling chemicals.

“Mmm, who invited the magicians to the party in my tummy?” L murmured dreamily, slipping a little bit on the bed.

“So L-oquent,” Raito muttered, thinking he should be feeling panicked, but actually finding it difficult to feel much of anything.

“Still feeling sick?” L asked after a hazy pause.

“No, I feel much better,” Raito answered before could organize his thoughts clearly. “Everything is so…nice.”

When L didn't answer, Raito turned to look at him just in time to see him pitch headfirst off the edge of the bed onto the floor beside Raito, somehow managing to land on his feet.

“Oooh, my most of me,” L moaned with a pained expression. “I'm okay,” he continued after a pause. “You're okay. Everything is okay.”

“Okay,” Raito agreed. He started when a hand landed on his shoulder and L's face swam into view. “You know what we've never done?” he asked.

“No,” Raito breathed, wondering what he was hoping for as an answer. “What haven't we done?” Kissed, had sex, married, adopted little genius orphans…

“We've never talked to each other,” L replied seriously.

Raito frowned. “Um. Haven't we?” he asked.

“No,” L denied. “We've never just…talked.”

“Oh,” Raito said. “Well, what are we going to talk about?”

“The Kira case,” L said. “Let's talk about Kira.”

“Well, for starters,” L began, “are you Kira?”

“You mean `eureka,' I think,” Raito corrected. “You switched the `r' and the `k.' The `r' actually comes first.”

“What?” L asked, looking quite confused.

“You said `eukera,' but it's `eureka.' I'm surprised you made such an L-ementary mistake.”

“It's all Greek to me,” L said dismissively. “You didn't have to yell at me about it.”

“I was just pointing out a dumb error,” Raito hissed. “For someone so smart, you really are stupid sometimes!”

“There's no need to get defensive,” L soothed, although he looked a bit hurt. “You didn't have to insult me.”

“God, you can be so annoying,” Raito growled, supporting his head with one hand.

“Oh, and what about you, Mr. Toughy-huffy?” L demanded. “Mr. I-Hate-Fun? All cold and snobby like a cold snobby person?”

“I am not a cold snobby person!” Raito protested hotly.

“Oh yes you are!” L affirmed. “You're a sparse and icy wasteland of a person!”

“I am not an arse and spicy person!” Raito denied, unintentionally confusing his words a fair bit.

“Yes you are!” L crowed again.

Raito gritted his teeth. “Oh, I wish I knew how to quit you,” he growled.

“You can't quit me,” L breathed, looming dangerously close to Raito's person.

“Oh? And why's that?” Raito challenged.

“Because I'm addictive,” L replied, snuggling up to Raito in a vaguely seductive fashion.

“You're a dick all right,” Raito grumbled.

“Oh, you meanie,” L pouted.

“Get off of me,” Raito protested, when L leaned against his shoulder.

“Not unless you give me a hug,” L demanded.

“You saucy imp,” Raito scolded, not wholly opposed to the idea of hugging him.

Raito held out his arms in a reluctant hug and encountered an armful of L. “You're so L-egant,” he praised. L fit into his arms so nicely. He looked up to see L staring at him.

“What is it?” he asked, feeling an unfamiliar sensation in his stomach. L looked so…vulnerable. And cute.

Leaning forward on Raito's lap, L cupped Raito's face with his hands and kissed him. It was an L-ectrifying kiss.

“Your eyes,” L purred after a mind-bottling kiss, “they're so beautiful.”

“They're just brown,” Raito shrugged modestly.

“Oh no no no, Raito,” L crooned. “They are the breath-taking shade of brownies. Physical perfection. Magical.”

“Oh,” Raito said blankly, thinking that magical and brownies ought to be setting off alarm bells, except L kissed him again and any hypothetical alarm bells were replaced with a warm L.

This kiss was longer, more exquisite, and more heated, yet L insisted on stopping for air. “Are. You. Kira?” he panted in a last-ditch effort to be a detective after they broke apart.

“I'll take kira you,” Raito promised him, hugging him close.

“Well that's not really what I meant but oh to hell with it all!” L cried, throwing himself again at Raito. “Take me, take all of me!”

Raito ran his hands down the length of L's body, pulling off his shirt in an euphoric daze and moving his hands down to L's pants, unbuttoning them. Raito felt L undress him as well, soft caresses filling his heart and sweet whispers filling his ears.

He felt rather than saw L come up behind him, ready to slip inside him and it was so perfect, so perfect and magical and beautiful and-

“Raito! Raito!” L cried, but suddenly his voice morphed into Matsuda's and Raito opened his eyes and-

“…Raito? Raito?” Matsuda was saying, his voice leaking into Raito's mind. “Are you awake?”

Raito quickly sat up, trying to gain his bearings. He was slouched over his desk at Kira headquarters, some papers relating to the latest Kira victims strewn about him. “What was that Matsuda?” he asked groggily, embarrassed to have fallen asleep at work.

Matsuda looked at him concernedly. “I just wanted to make sure you were all right. You hardly ever fall asleep at work, so I thought maybe you were sick or something.” He looked pointedly down at the spot of drool on one of Raito's documents.

Raito glared at him. “Yes, Matsuda. I'm fine. Fantastic. Perfectly all-raito.” As soon as that terrible pun escaped his lips, the dream flooded back to him and a light blush flooded his cheeks. “I just…had a strange dream, that's all. Must have been tired.”

Someone padded softly into the room, and Raito closed his eyes in horror at having to see him so soon after having a dream like that. Where he was uke nonetheless. This seemed to be an ongoing problem.

“Hello, Yagami-kun,” L said amiably. “How are you this morning?”

Raito glowered fiercely at him. “As I was just telling Matsuda-san, fantastic. Now if you'll excuse me I'll be going home for a bit to get myself some breakfast.”

As Raito walked briskly out of the room, L turned to Matsuda curiously. “Strange…he seems strange this morning. Perhaps I shouldn't have given him those magic brownies last night, although it was his father who suggested it.”

Matsuda chuckled softly. “Not to mention that it was great entertainment. The best part was when he jumped up on the couch and started singing `Don't Stop Believin'' in perfect English at the top of his lungs.”

“Hmm,” L said, smiling ever-so-slightly. “True. He doesn't seem to remember any of it, either, which is all for the better, really.”

The two shared another subdued laugh, then got back to their own work, awaiting Raito's arrival later that day.

Secrets were most definitely a necessary part of maintaining the workplace environment.

 

 

A/N: SORRY! Really. The real chapter will be up in a few…somethings. And omgz thanks so much for 50k+ hits over on FFN!!