Author: Amry PM
There is a reason that L is never seen using a normal sized fork. The feelings between himself and his silverware run deeper than the rest of the task force would have guessed. [One shot, crack, LxTiny Forks]Rated: Fiction K - English - Humor/Romance - Words: 920 - Reviews: 49 - Favs: 28 - Follows: 2 - Published: 04-20-07 - Status: Complete - id: 3500047
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
((I was planning to do author's notes, but... what is there to say? XD))
"Yagami-san, please put in the security tape from 3/21." L reached over the arm of his chair and retrieved a plate of cake from the coffee table beside him. He plucked the tiny fork imbedded in the cake out with his thumb and forefinger, speared a bite, and placed it delicately in his mouth. His eyes half-closed, an expression of bliss on his face, he sighed through his nose and pressed the PLAY button on the remote control with his toe.
"Geez," Matsuda muttered to Aizawa. "I swear that's his fifth piece this morning. How does he put it away like that?"
"Dunno. I guess he really likes cake," Aizawa replied absently, leaning closer to his computer monitor to deter further questioning. "Don't bother him, Matsuda, he's smarter than you."
L gave no indication that he had heard them, but smiled to himself. Removing the now-clean fork from his mouth, he admired the glint of the light filtering between the closed blinds on its silver surface. They all thought it was the cake. How amusing.
He sank the fork into the cake again and brought it back toward his mouth loaded with a bite so big it threatened to fall from the prongs. Halfway to its destination, it tumbled to the floor, leaving an icing streak across his white shirt. L sighed mournfully and unfolded, turning headfirst to crawl under the coffee table where it had fallen, the tiny fork clamped between his teeth.
Light glanced over from where he had been surfing the major criminal networks on Wikipedia to see L's posterior in the air, prehensile toes digging into the cushions, his shirt sliding up his back. Grumbling came from under the table.
"Ryuzaki-kun?" he ventured, half-standing up. "Do you need help?"
"Got it," L grunted. Under the table, he snatched up the piece of cake, examined it, decided that he would probably not contract a deadly pathogen from it, and stuck it back on the fork. Light watched, mystified, as he wriggled backward, popped back into position on his chair, and shoved the cake-loaded fork into his mouth.
"Everything all right, there, Ryuzaki-kun?" he asked.
"Five-second rule," L replied and reached for another bite of cake.
Light shook his head and turned back to his computer.
Two days later, L emerged from his room into the investigation headquarters to find the entire task force crowded around the center table, wide smiles fixed on their faces. Sensing a trap, he stopped, eyeing them suspiciously. "Good morning," he said slowly.
Souichirou raised a hand. "One, two, three-"
"Happy birthday, Ryuzaki!" they all chorused. Matsuda blew a triumphant tune on a kazoo.
L stared at them, utterly mystified. "Even I don't know exactly when my birthday is," he said. "How did you—"
"We didn't," Light interrupted. "We guessed."
"…Oh. Um… thank you."
"And as a present…" Light produced a box from behind his back and held it out, smiling. "We all thought you'd be happy to have these, Ryuzaki."
L took the box with trembling hands, unable to admit that he was excited. He'd never really celebrated his birthday before, and tracking down Kira left little time for frivolity. He gazed at the brightly wrapped box for a moment, savoring the feeling, then picked at the edge of the paper with his forefinger until he could grip it and tear it off. The task force crowded closer, waiting to see his reaction as the paper fell away.
He stared at the box of ordinary, seven-and-a-half inch long silver forks for a long few minutes. The silence grew tense.
"Souichirou-san… Light-kun… Matsuda-san, Mogi-san, Aizawa-san…" L's voice sounded slightly choked. They all wondered – would this be the first time they saw the great detective cry?
He looked up. Rage and hurt clouded his eyes. "How could you?" he shouted. They all started back, alarmed. "How could you think that I would— well, you're wrong! You're wrong! You don't understand, none of you understand!" He shoved the forks back into Light's hands and dashed into his room, slamming the door behind him. Sobs reverberated over the sound system before he disabled the bugs in his room. Silence fell on the investigation headquarters.
"Geez," Light murmured. "I just figured if he had some normal forks, he wouldn't drop his cake so much. I just wanted to make it easier on him." The others nodded their agreement.
"He's a strange one, that Ryuzaki," Souichirou sighed. "Well, at least I didn't throw away the receipt."
"Are you kidding?" cried Matsuda. "I'm selling L's fingerprints on Ebay! You know how much the mafia would pay for those?"
And the forks were forgotten as all present berated Matsuda.
In his room, L sat on the bed, cradling his collection of tiny forks. "I'm sorry," he murmured softly, wiping tears from his face with the back of his hand and gazing lovingly at them. "They tried to tempt me, but you know I would never betray you. I'll always be yours."
Their soft gleam in the lamplight seemed to forgive him. He smiled and rubbed his tears off of them, laying them gently down on the nightstand. "I'll always love only you," he said. "My tiny forks."