Chapter Text
The task force members all stared at the young man in front of them in confusion. Could this really be the mighty and mysterious detective whom they had only ever heard the voice of through a voice changer? He certainly didn't look the part, though masterminds had to be a little eccentric, right? But this guy took it to another level. Sitting in his chair in a weird hunched over position, knees tucked under his chest with wide, black eyes that seemed to stare into ones soul which made everyone he locked eyes with, which he did rarely enough, a little uneasy, and dark shadows under them, like he hadn't gotten any sleep in years. His pale skin only added to his ailing appearance. And then his voice. As unsetteling as his eyes and monotone, cold, devoid of any emotion.
In front of him stood an empty plate, covered with crumbs, and the detective poked around in it with a fork, trying to pick up the last ones with an unsatisfied scowl on his face. He gave up on that and instead went for a cup of tea, adding a dozend sugarcubes to his drink.
Shifting in his seat uncomfortably, Matsuda was the one to break the silence. "Excuse me, L-"
"From now on I'll have to ask that you stop calling me 'L', it's 'Ryuzaki' now, just to be safe," the raven haired man cut him off.
Slighly irritated, Matsuda cleared his throat. "Uh, okay, Ryuzaki-"
But he didn't get to finish his sentence again, because L raised his voice and turned his head back, the other task force members following his eyes. "y/a, dear, would you mind getting me another piece of your ravishing shortcake? strawberry and chocolate, please"
You stood in the door to his room, leaning against the door frame, hands behind your back. The task force members shared confused glances and then shifted their attention back to you, who now stepped closer. In their knowledge, Watari was L's only assistant. They couldn't explain the sudden appearance of a girl. One that looked totally normal, compared to her two partners. Hair in a bun, wearing jeans and a green shirt, seemingly strained with- was that flour? The kind smile on your face looked even more comforting next to L's cold stare. You brought your hands forth from behind your back, a plate with a slice of cake in each of your hands, and placed them before the detective who looked pleasently surprised.
"Shall I refill your tea can, Ryuzaki?" you asked kindly, L giving you a swift nod as you grabbed the dishes and left the room, leaving behind a sweet smell.
"Before you ask, that's y/a," L said in his usual monotone voice, picking up his fork and taking one bit of every slice before licking his lips in satisfaction.
"Is she-?" Aizawa began, who was still looking at the door the girl had left through.
"my baker," L said plainly. "now, back to the case."
But it was hard to ignore you at the times you were in the room, bringing L cake and sweets, magically appearing whenever he needed it. The men thought it was witchcraft. When you came out of the room once more, balancing three empty plates in your hands, you almost collid with Watari. Giving the old man a warm smile and a "pardon" which he returned, you quickly left the room and returned to the hotel kitchen. At this time, no one was here anymore, so there was no hotel staff eyeing you curiously and you didn't have to cover your face. L insisted on it, claiming the danger you'd put yourself in if you showed your face was to great, even though you barely had anything to do with his cases. It was the possibility of someone using you as a way to get to him that worried the detective.
It had been like this for years now, since L had given you this job. Working at a small bakery in London, you had been visited more frequently by an old man who never showed his face properly. Watari, as you knew now. The amount of pastries and sweets he had buyed every day had confused you a bit. A man his age could not possibly host a party every day, right? And no living human could posess the ability to eat an elephant's weight of cake a day.
Over time, you had begun to grow fond of the lovely man, always conversating happily when he showed up. He had been a bit closed up but good to talk to, and you had figured that that was the reason he showed up daily, until he had told you of his boss. Appereantly, there was nothing his employer had craved more than your sweets. Watari hadn't told you anything else about this mysterious figure, other than that he was obsessed with your pastries. You had felt flattered, but had also been a bit worried, asking about the mans health if he ate everything Watari bought. That had made him laugh.
When Watari had come back to L that day, he had been surprised to see the young detective waiting at the door. It was unusual for L to be found anywhere else than before his computer screen these days, since he had been working on a tough case for weeks now. But there he was, staring at his mentor expectantly, without any techincal devices in sight. His eyes showed pure boredom which told Watari, who was probably the only one able to read L in some ways, that-
"I'm finished," L said as Watari closed the apartment door. "The case is done"
Sighing, Watari hung his coat over the door, prepared for the usual mood drop his protégé tended to suffer from when he had closed a case. But at least there was a way to lift his mood even the slightest bit. While L built a sugarcube tower with a continuously deepening scowl, Watari placed the baked goods on one of the tables and opened one of the boxes, the sweet smell of his beloved strawberry shortcake escaped it, filled the room and reached the detectives nose who immediately looked up and locked his big, dark eyes to the oh so familiar box. He presented his hand like a plate for Watari to place the cake there. There was nothing he craved more in this moment than this heavenly masterpiece of flavor spectecularity. The ray of sunshine in his misery.
Chuckling, Watari followed the silent order and L began to happily munch his cake. Watari sighed deeply, sat down on the couch opposite him and watched as L licked his lips to chase the strawberry flavour. It astounded him how fast that boy consumed cake, and your cake in particular. Within less than a minute, he had swallowed the last bit and now took small bites of the strawberry that had been placed on top of it.
"Now that you are finished with this case," the older man began and tried to meet the detectives gaze, but it was fixated on the half eaten strawberry. "There is someone you might want to meet"
Now, he had L's attenntion. The dark orbs pierced him for a few seconds, then: "It's not a case, there is no way someone could've contacted you on the way and it's exactly 11:15 p.m., 11:12 when you arrived, that's about two minutes less than the average time you need to pick cake up, and i can rule out that you have been getting a case before that. Who is this person and why do you feel like I need to meet them?"
"There is a girl, she runs the bakery that provides you with the cake you've taken such a great liking in," Watari said and L blinked a few times.
"Oh, yes," the young man agreed, though seemingly a bit confused why he would need to meet you. "She's not closing that bakery, is she? That would be very unfortunate. I have never tasted anything remotely comparable to her cake. It amazes me how she does that"
Watari sighed. Sometimes, it was unbelievable to him how the man that could analyse anyone within seconds tended to be so helpless when it came to deducting himself. "I believe you are a bit ... lonely"
"I have you," L answered instantly, swallowing the last bit of the fruit he had been holding and looked him straight in the eye.
Wataris eyes softened a bit as he stood up and got him a collection of rainbow colored cupcakes. As he placed them before L who was still looking at him from that same position on the couch which forced him to look up to him with his owl-like eyes, he placed a hand on L's shoulder. "Do me a favour and visit her tomorrow. I promise, you'll like her"
And he did. The day after that, still grumpy because of the down following the high of a tough case, the detective made his way to your small bakery. You were already waiting, this was the time Watari tended to visit your shop day for day and his usual order was already ready for him to pick up. When the door creaked, you greeted your newest friend with a bright smile, only for it to falter a bit in Irritation when you saw the stranger stand in the doorway. That surely wasn't Watari, but somehow, this man was even more of an unconventional sight to lay eyes on than the old cloaked man.
For a moment, you wondered if he was maybe homeless, even though his oversized shirt and pants were meticulously held clean. His untamed black hair, sticking out from his head on all sides, looked like a bird's nest. You wouldn't have been surprised if a hen had actually nested in it. His skin was white as marble, almost unhealthily pale, in contrast to his large black eyes, which reminded you of an owl and seemed to look straight into your soul, piercing you. Those haunting eyes were adorned with dark shadows, as if he hadn't slept in weeks. So he too was an insomanic, just like you, only he didn't make any effort to hide the dark circles under his eyes. Despite all that, the stranger didn't look bad at all. You would go as far as to say that he was probably the only person who was able to look good even with that appearance.
"Good Morning, can I help you?" you asked with a bright smile. In truth, you didn't have that many customers.
The man shambled towards your counter and looked at you with his void filled eyes. Or maybe not void. As you subconsiously tilted your head a bit, you felt like there was more to him, like he was hiding something- making an effort to appear like there was nothing inside him, and suddenly you thought that he reminded you of a lost child, one that was standing in the middle of an IKEA and looking at every adult face, hoping to find his mum and dad. But maybe you were just overanalyzing a completely normal and totally-not-lost stranger. You tended to do so.
"Uhm ... yes," L said, he himself surprised how insecure he sounded.
Your smile was kind of intimidating to him. It seemed so genuine. L could deal with fake smiles send his way, he was used to them when his clients, who thought of him as an arrogant asshole, thanked him for solving their cases, and with Wataris smiles that he had grown up with, but yours was so different and it took him off guard, he didn't know what to do with himself, faced with such pure kindness. Your smile surely was enlightening. To him, it looked like you brightened the room, as if a sun-like glow radiated from you. It immediately made him suspicious.
How were you able to make such an impression on him with so little effort? And why would you smile so nicely at him? Why would you be so happy to see him? Because you were, unmistakably, smiling at him, apart from you, he was the only person in the bakery. If you didn't have anything to hide and put on an act, which, if you in fact, were, would be a pretty good one, you couldn't have that many customers. Further indicating that theory that the shop was so empty. At this time on a Sunday, a bakery as good as yours should be flooding with customers. It was strange that he seemed to be the only one, and he felt resentment towards the absent people as he saw the cakes and donuts and other baking goods presented on the counter, looking so delicious and yet most likely going to waste in large numbers at the end of the day.
When you cleared your throat subtly, he became aware of the fact that he had been staring at your face for quite a while without answering your question, and a tint of red threatened to shine through his porcellain skin. Your expression wasn't critical or impatient at all, but genuinly worried, and it was a good feeling. Not that he liked the way you frowned slightly, but he liked the small sign of ... care. L wasn't someone that wished or needed to be cared for, but somehow, it felt different when you did. It felt ... good.
"I believe there's an order waiting for me," he said in his monotone voice, and he watched your worry turn into surprise, pleasant surprise, which didn't seem to fit, really. From the way Watari talked about you, stayed at your shop longer to talk wirh you, as he had figured out weeks ago, and the fact that his adoptive father always had a smile on his face when he returned with your treats, he had concluded that the two of you must be friends. Why wouldn't you be disappointed that he had showed up instead of Watari?
"Then you must be Watari's boss." you stated, excitement filling your voice. In truth, you had really wanted to meet him one day. The mysterious employer that you had learned interesting and sometimes irretating snippets of during the past weeks was here, real, present before your eyes. It was like meeting a celebrity to you and you found yourself unable to hide your enthusiasm. Walking around the counter, you stopped before him and extended your hand. "It's really nice to finally meet you, I've heard so much- or so less? How are you?"
L took your hand. It was very warm, probably from the ovens, and he felt two burn scars on the palm of your hand. Your hand squeezed his gently when you shook it, and he let you, because he had to admit that it felt nice. Your self-evident way of talking made him feel more at ease, which alarmed him a bit, and he found himself answering you honestly. "Miserable. I've just finished a case and now I'm miserable"
"I'm sorry," you said empathetically. "Did it go wrong?"
Suspicious once more, L scanned your face, looking for any indications that you were playing a part. It seemed as if you were subtly attempting to interrogate him. What other reason could you have for asking that question? Politeness? Or was it mere, innocent interest? Did that mean that you were interested in him? Because you really did seem convincingly sincere. And strangely enough, he realized that he wanted to tell you. He wanted to tell you that he had been succesful. Why?
"No," L simply said, figuring there couldn't be that much wrong with one word, and you didn't ask any further questions about his case. Instead, you put your hands on your hips and smiled once more. L wondered if your cheekbones ached when you went to bed at night. Then, his attentive eyes noticed that you had heavy layers of makeup under your eyes, not fully concealing the dark circles under them. So you were an insomanic. Just like him.
"Only bored then, hm?" you asked, returning behind your counter to get his order. "That can't be easy for a brain like yours. Probably nothing my baking can fix"
"It helps," L admitted as he watched you reappear, your arms full of boxes that you set down on a table. You then returned to the back of the bakery and came back with the second half of his order that you placed next to the other boxes on the table. L's nose catched the warm smell of freshly baked cake, chocolate and sugary frosting and his mouth watered. Never did you disappoint him with your skills, and he wanted to tell you, tell you how much he appreciated them, how much he loved your work, but he kept his mouth shut, only nodding and thanking you as he looked for money in the bags of his pants.
Waiting, you seated yourself on top of the table and next to the boxes, eyeing the man curiously. He had immediately sparked your interest and you were dying to find out more about him, but you didn't want to make him uncomfortable. He seemed like everything but an extroverted person and you didn't want to cross any boundaries.
"I have a question," you asked and he looked up, seemingly slightly surprised, even though it was hard to read his expression.
"Yes?"
"I was wondering...," you pointed at his order. "Do you eat all this by yourself?"
"Yes," the man said in his almost emotionless voice, but you noticed that he seemed a bit unsure of himself. Was he shy? "It heightens my mental abilities for about ten percent" He was lying. It were 35 percent, but you didn't have to know that.
"Well, I feel honored," you said and slid off the table to take the money he held in his extended hand. You watched as he shifted, seemingly a bit unsure what to do with himself, and then took a step towards the boxes, but you raised your voice once more, not wanting to let him go just yet. "Do you want to stay for a bit?"
L shifted his gaze from the boxes to you. asking him that had obviously taken some courage from you. while you moved confidently in a conversation, the request had unsettled you, from which L could only conclude that it was important to you, that you actually wanted him to stay. Your hands tugged nervously at your apron, but you showed no signs of shyness on your face. It still showed warmth and friendliness. Seeing your smile, L felt the need to do as you asked, but he was unsure how much he could afford to do, how much you were allowed to know. You weren't stupid, he knew that much. L could tell he really wanted to stay, but his mind warned him not to let you wrap him around your finger any longer. On the other hand, taking your offer would certainly be what Watari would want.
Seeing his indecision, you elaborated on your offer. "I could get you some cake and we could sit down a little, but it's okay if you don't want to"
"Oh, I do," L said and watched how your eyes began to shine, unmistakably delighted to spend time with him. It was unusual for people to be happy about such a thing, most felt minimized by his demeanor, but he wasn't willed to change himself so he would fit into peoples expectations. But you didn't seem to mind at all. Then it stroke him that he had actually had not said a single thing that could've been mistaken as rudeness. Because he didn't want to. He didn't want you to leave, and you didn't want him to either, that much he could see.
He was pulled out of his thoughts when he felt your hand on his arm, gently escorting him towards a table. Out of mere instinct, he flinched and you immediately let go. Fearing he could've offended you, L looked up at your eyes and opened his mouth slightly, even though he didn't know what to tell you since he couldn't just explain to you that physikal touch was by far not a matter of course to him, that, even with Watari, he kept it at a minimum, but he didn't need to. Your gate was understanding and you didn't linger on the silence but asked him what he would like to eat, then pointing at a table for him to sit down at.
A few seconds later, you returned with a pistacho donut and saw that he was already sitting. Even his way of sitting was strange, legs pulled to his chest and humched over, hands and head resting on his knees, but you found it quite endearing. After you placed the donut before him, you walked around the table to sit, too. "Actually, I don-"
"Get that nany customers," he cut you off as you sat down. L himself didn't know why he had felt the need to do it, but there was this unknown desire to proof himself- to you. It was strange. How he had known you for a few minutes and already felt such a deep connection towards you, and it scared him a little, but he decided to carry on with it. But he asked himself if he really wanted to impress you and why. It was often useful not to make the full range of his skill obvious, so why was he presenting himself to you so willingly?
From there on, L visited your small bakery more often instead of Watari, and over time, he began to trust you to an extend he trusted no one but his adoptive father. Even when his cases kept him up all day and night, he had Watari give you massages or letters and found himself taking a good portion of his time to write them. How someone saw him had never been this important to him, but he figured, since you were his first real friend, it was merely the fear to lose you or have you walk away from him that made him care so much. Which was, by the way, a pointless worry, because you were just as infetuated with him as he was with you. At some point, during a tough case, you even visited him in his apartment with boxes full of cake and cheerfulness. It was one of the things L admired about you. Your kindness, gentleness and the natural love you gave everyone and everything, apart from your intellegence, your giving care, empathy and passion.
Watari was watching your exchanges and sometimes almost shy encounters with delight. It had played out better than he ever could've hoped.
But then, one day, when L came into your bakery a little earlier than usual to find you not behind your counter but sitting on one of the tables, your head in your hands with a bunch of papers layed out in front of you. So his equation had been right. If you had told the truth, which he now, just from one look at you, knew, he was practically your only customer, aside from a few others that from time to time buyed an eclair or crossaint, and taking the rent for the shop in this part of town into consideration, you were out of money, something L and you had both seen coming and immediately, L's heart sunk at the sight of your dejected figure.
When he cleared his throat, you turned around to look at him. Today, you hadn't tried to cover up the signs of your sleeplessness. The dark circles under your eyes matched his, and your hair, usually in a slightly chaotic bun, fell untamed down your back. L felt the strong urge to comfort you, but he wasn't quite sure how to. He settled with walking over to you, gently taking the papers out of your side and sitting down on the bench next to you, not opposite you like he usually did.
You knew that he knew, knew, why you sat in here, looking like shit, hopeless and devastated, so you didn't explain anything, you only said: "I loved this shop" and the detective nodded empathetically. Then, you felt something brush along the back of your hand, and when you looked at it, L closed his fingers around your hand. His hand was soft and warm, which was probably a result of the fact that he always had them in his pockets. You didn't dare to breathe or move aprubtly, fearing that his hand would leave your's. You wanted to hold on to his touch, because it was just so soothing and tender, and the farthest you two had ever gone in terms of physikal contact.
The hand that didn't hold yours trembled slightly in L's pocket. Not because holding your's was by any means unpleasant, but the simple gesture made him nervous and his head fuzzy. The feeling was odd, strangely enjoyable, but unknown. It messed with his head and made his cheeks heat up and heart flutter. Mist gilled his head and it scared him a bit, but he didn't let go. He didn't want to let go.
Trying to regain a bit of his usual mental competence, he cleared his throat, even though you were already looking into his eyes. "I would like to ask you something. I have an offer to make. A ..." He looked down a bit, "a job offer"
Your eyes widened as you understood and L's cheeks grew even hotter. They were probably a light shade of pink already and he resisted the urge to look away from your face, but then he saw it again. His unexpected new elixir of life, your wonderful smile. From the way your arms twitched, he knew you had to hold yourself back from hugging him, and even though he liked this new physikal contact, he was rather glad you didn't. He didn't have to overdo it today.
"You mean...?" you began excitedly to make sure you didn't hear it falsely.
"Yes," the young man sad sincerely. "I would like to offer you the job of my personal baker" When he saw how your eyes lit up and you opened your mouth, ready to take the offer, he chimed in, even more serious now. "Please, think about it first. Working for me brings with it a lot of inconveniences. It's, uh, a lot of travelling, no steady place to live, less personal privacy than you are used to, keeping your identity hidden and I don't know how much free time I can guarantee you. I just don't want you to regret a rushed decision."
You nodded in understanding, daring to give his hand a light squeeze and you swore you saw his lips twitch. "I will think about it."
When you came up to the hotel room where L and the task force had gathered once more, the police men were already taking their coats and half out of the door. They were looking at you curiously when you slipped through the entrance and one of them, the youngest, so it seemed, flashed you a smile which you returned happily. Behind them, you noticed L standing there, hunched over like always, with his habds in his pockets, looking at you expectantly and gave him a smile, too, then you turned around to the men once more.
"You are leaving already, I see. Would you wait for a second?"
They shot each other glances, not sure wether to agree or not, but one firm look shot by L made them all nodd their heads in your direction. L himself didn't know why you wanted the men to wait, but he would have nobody deny his baker a wish. Though he was a bit displeased when you returned, a small box for every one of them, but none for him, that you reached over to them.
"A little refreshment for the journey home"
They all thanked you, Matsuda with a little more enthusiasm than would've been neccesary, and you closed the door behind them, waving one last time and wishing them a good night. When you turned around, you found yourself facing your employer who looked a bit annoyed and had to hold back a smile. You got out an eclair and it was almost comical how the detective's eyes immediately lit up at the sight of it. You placed the trait on the couch table and motioned L to sit down on the armchair.
Your melodic voice filled L's ears. "One can almost not bake as fast as you eat"
Just as you planned to go looking for Watari, his eyes found your sleeve and made you look back at him, big eyes staring up at you. "Do you want to sit down with me?"
"Sure, I'd love to," you said and seated yourself on the couch as L poured both of you a tea. You noticed the frown on his face and the way his body was lightly tense when he slid the cup across the table.
"Tough case, huh?" you asked empathetically as you brought the cup to your lips and watched him with slightly worried eyes.
"It'll probably get tougher," the detective shrugged and filled his cup with sugarcubes. After a short silence in which he watched the sugar cubes dissolve in the hot liquid. Then his gaze found yours again. "What do you think of Kira?"
You took your time with your answer, even though you had already thought a lot about the new figure that had seemingly taken over the Internet. You had been out in the city when L had publicly confronted Kira and had stood there, your bags in your hands, frozen in fear as you had stared at the monitor. After that, you had been a bit angry with him, never showing your frustration, though. You felt like he could've told you before he put his life at risk, but you didn't know if he even understood how much he meant to you. Though you were sure that L was an empath at heart and understood others feelings pretty well, and you knew that, if he wanted to, he could be a very gentle man, and the last thing he wanted to do was to hurt you by any means, you didn't think that L was always aware of the fact that he was cared for. The following days, Kira had kept the detective busy, and it was then that your suspicion was confirmed: this was no normal case.
"He's been all over the media," you answered slowly, taking another sip from your tea. "My sister thinks highly of him. She thinks he does what the police is incapable of doing, the he is needed. But i don't think what he does is right. Where will we end up if one person gets to decide who's worthy of living and who's not? That's way too much power in the hands of one individual that doesn't even have any real authority. It's just murder, really, just a different motive."
The detective's eyes had followed the movements of your lips, his teeth nibbling on his thumb. Now he hummed, pleased with your answer. His tea was forgotten as you were the center of his attention, his eyes piercing through you, seemingly in thought. You waited with asking the question that laid on your tongue, until he blinked after a few minutes with an slightly irritated expression.
You cleared your throat, bringing his eyes back to your's. "I was wondering ... the men. Are they good?"
"Not as good as me," the young man shrugged and made a face when the tea he had previously forgotten had gotten cold. When you laughed quietly, he looked up again and was met with the stunningly ... adorable sight of you covering your giggle with your hands.
"No one is as good as you, Ryuzaki. And you know that."
He was visibly satisfied with your answer, and you recognised the slightly smug expression on his face. Your words were reaussuring in all the right ways, mainly because it was you saying it. You complimenting him was something L had grown to be strangely fond of, and every time you did, it would lift his mood. He couldn't explain it to himself, but he couldn't do anything about it either. You just got under his skin, contradicting his belief that that was an impossible thing to do.
"I suppose. Are you going to bed?" he asked when you emptied your mug and raised to your feet.
"Yes, well, I'm going to try," you smiled and attempted to take the tea service, but L's hand stopped you by grabbing your wrist gently. The touch sent an almost electric tingle up your arm and through your body and you tried hide your reddened cheeks in by looking down. But he saw it, you were certain of it. What you didn't know was, that L felt a bit relieved. So his body wasn't the only one acting strangely, every time his skin came in contact with yours.
"I'll tidy that away. Go to bed, dear." he said.
"Are you sure ... ?" you asked and he nodded, staying persistent.
"Good night then," you said, and before he knew it, you had pressed a feather light kiss on his cheeks. Completely dumbfounded, his eyes widened in surprise and he turned his head, only to see you already at the door, and then, out of his sight, his eyes following you like a lost puppy's. But he still felt the soft sensation of your lips on his cheek. The blood rushed into his face and he groaned quietly, closing his eyes.
He had a problem.