Note: Mina-san, gomen.. I have been totally out of it for a long time, just recently have my brain reactivated, however tiny that area is. I've decided to keep the story mild for now, but please do tell me if I'm crossing the line so that the rating can be properly adjusted. Anyways, off we go . .

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Chapter 5 - Search

“Misa, are you certain you have no regrets?”

“Hahh…yess, Misa..Misa is..very certain..” Beads of sweat roll off the girl’s heated skin and she strains with the effort to reply, flushing more as the physical exertion continues. Whoever said it would feel good?

They are in a public place, yet they are the only two present. The silent air is layered with the model's erratic breaths.

“You need to build up your stamina, if you plan to keep up with me.” L is hardly fazed. His breathing is in perfect pace with the rhythm he has set, though he has a tint of healthy pink dusting his usually pale face.

“Why..why must Ryuu..zakii talk.. at a time.. like this..?” Heat continues to rush upwards, tingeing Misa’s cheeks brighter. She is out of breath, on the brink of a total collapse. Her lungs burn, her thighs hurt, her bottoms ache. The feel good chemicals are not kicking in yet.

“It appears that Misa is not enjoying herself. Please, do not force yourself. I am perfectly fine finishing this by myself.”

Misa is relieved. She slows down, legs moving about feebly. She watches with tired eyes as Ryuuzaki increases his speed, breathing heavier in the process, perspiration soaking his skin. Indeed, he is about to finish. Any second now.

Beeeeeppp..

L exhales forcefully, satisfied at keeping his records within the allotted time. He pushes a button, silencing the alarm. He sweeps the back of his hand over his moist forehead to brush away the few dark strands that have pasted themselves there.

Misa slumps forward, giving up, sweat dripping from the tip of her nose as she gulps in the air greedily.

“Ryuuzaki, I’m aching all over. This is a bad idea.” The model complains, her thighs tremble with exhaustion and all she wants to do is to lie down, maybe for the rest of the day.

“Ah, Misa was not being truthful when you stated you had no regrets. You could have refused the ice cream.”

“Misa was simply trying to be a good girlfriend!” She took one mouthful after another of Ryuuzaki’s dessert when he offered the luxury to her on his silver spoon during lunch. It had tasted heavenly, more so when she was in good company.

Then she had fretted over the extra calories and how she would gain ten pounds out of this. Ryuuzaki had suggested to help her burning them off.. She is seriously regretting this.

“Perhaps Misa has been using the wrong sets of muscles. With regular practice, you could learn to enjoy it.” Strong hands lift off the petite limp body, bringing Misa on solid ground. She sags against him like a perfect rag doll after this horrible ordeal. No, the point is, she didn't finish.

L ruffles her frizzled hair and smiles in mild amusement, “Next time, set a realistic goal. You cannot possibly hope to remove a thousand calories in fifteen minutes.”

Misa glares ruefully backwards at the exercise bike. "But the calories from Ryuuzaki's own serving of ice cream must be gone. You set the counter too!”

“Let us proceed to the stretches. Your body will appreciate that very much.”

“...” Too drained to argue, Misa follows through the moves halfheartedly.

Ten minutes later, they head for the showers. They pass by the series of equipment and randomly placed sofas. This venue is usually packed. Misa no longer questions the deserted state of the place. No doubt they have the privilege to use the gym exclusively, for as long as they care to stay. That means the showers are also... Somehow, the girl perks up a little, energy coming out of nowhere starting to fill her, defying the laws of physics.

While the model is debating whether the detective would actually take advantage of the situation, the said man has insisted on using separate shower rooms. For privacy, he explains easily. Right. Is he still shy?

Misa hums an upbeat tone from her latest album to add to the enjoyment of the relaxing hot shower. The thought of Ryuuzaki naked, just another shower room away, has the girl wondering... Well, she cannot really picture him in the nude, for he has been anything but that in her presence. It will be another zillion years to move things along if she doesn't take matters into her own hands, now.

Misa wraps a white terry towel around her shoulders and tiptoes toward the gentlemen's shower room. There is no door, only a single sign and a short twisty maze of an entrance before the rows of benches and lockers appear. The sound of high pressured streams of water hitting wall tiles and striking the floor is just around the bend. Wispy steam rises from one of the cubicles, visible against the dark gray and sparkly design of the wall surface. The shower curtain covers only two-thirds of the way, not effective to block the water, or the view within.

The tiny form stands outside, hoping the white towel around her blends in well with the opaque white of the plastic curtain, as a camouflage. Where is her dignity if she is caught? She sees movements, a pale shadow dance on the makeshift screen. Up above, a darker mass is being attacked by two white sticks while the whole column supporting the object remains unmoving. That is supposed to be an image of Ryuuzaki facing the wall and washing his hair. She deems it safe to crank her neck towards the one-third of open space, her own heartbeats almost drowning out the sound of running water.

L knows when he is being observed. He does not actually need to see with his own eyes. This reservation of the premises already minimizes the probability of other third parties being present. The fact that the establishment has a thoughtful practice to use different versions of shampoos and soaps for males and females would leave no doubts in one's mind the gender of the person who has made use of them. A sweet floral scent has gently invaded his personal space to make him aware of another person not too far away. He knows just exactly who she is.

By the time Misa takes a direct look, half of the foam from the mess of midnight hair has relocated south. Skin as white as her own comes to view. Long and strong fingers continue to massage the half washed hair. Water and soapy bubbles glide down playfully to run on the expanse of his smooth back. Sudden movements of his legs catch her attention. His toes on one foot wiggle comically on his other set to scrub them clean. The girl muffles a giggle on the towel at her shoulder. The toe wiggling brings him sideways slightly, though he appears unaware of her covert fascination. She continues her visual journey uninterrupted, feeling the heat increasing in the shower room.

“Misa seems curious.” A bland tone comes out from the pair of lips that now faces her way, ending in an inquisitive note.

It bursts the precariously balanced bubble. The blonde in question gasps sharply from alarm, but more from mortification at being caught staring, or peeking to be precise. The man has turned towards her completely. Her heart must have moved to live in her ears, the pounding being so loud. She has a feeling she may self combust, any moment now.

“Ryuu.. Ryuuzaki, I uh..I..” Speechless, Misa feels like an amateur on stage all over again, flustered and awkward. Her face would make a nice perfect circle for the flag of Japan.

“It is human nature to want to pursue the unknown.” L attempts to reassure the shocked blonde. Perhaps he should have pretended she wasn't here and continued his showering. This is an unwise confrontation. Too late now. “It is perfectly normal.”

Sometime during the roaring in her ears and shutting of her eyes, Ryuuzaki has turned off the shower. The silence is awful.

“Misa, look at me.”

“No, no, no, no.” Yes, yes, yes, yes, but I'm too embarrassed.

“That is fine.” L takes one of her hands and guides it towards himself.

Fighting the urge to open her eyes, Misa wonders if he is going to put her hand there. She is both relieved and disappointed when her hand is lifted upwards, with the palm lying flat on slick skin. The muscle there is supple, the vibrations underneath strong. Steady beating of a human heart. Then the body seems to be moving closer.

L hugs Misa tenderly, careful to adjust the towel to cover her. At least he could still keep his last shred of composure with a fabric in between them, though he is very certain his quickened pulse can be easily detected by her. He plants a soft kiss on top of her head.

“Misa, I am delighted to have gained your interest.” A pale cheek slightly tinted pink from the shower rests amidst the mop of wet blond strands. “You have no clue how much it means to me.”

The girl has to smile despite the total awkwardness of the situation. Any normal man would pounce on her at such a potentially steamy setting. Here he is, turning a major disaster into a loving hug. She likes his unexpectedness, his sensitivity, his sweetness. Her heart soars. Dear God, how I love this man. Her other hand abandons its post at securing the towel as her arms move to circle around the waist of her love, to return the embrace. Her ear replaces her palm to listen to the strong heart that is playing its music for her. Just for her.

Not at all anticipating Misa's hold on the towel to disappear, their bodies come into sudden contact. L still has his hands around her shoulders to keep the towel on her back like a cape, rendering its previous function quite useless at this point. Her soft breasts are freed to press temptingly into his abdomen. The wonderful sensation swirls outwards, whispering to his other neurons. He could feel a familiar tingling growing as a warm rush pools low, between his thighs.

“What is this?” The girly voice murmurs, highly curious after breaking contact.

L groans inwardly. Must she be difficult? The blonde girl is tracing her fingers along his hipbone, nearing his navel. He glances down and, because of the angle and distance, his arousal appears perfectly aligned between her inviting breasts. A trick of the eye. Damn the pointless researches.. Nevertheless, the illogical illusion causes blood to pour madly into his cheeks while it floods the opposite direction just as swiftly. No. She cannot possibly be inquiring about that.

Misa has felt the detective tensing up when she hugged back. Resigned, she has retreated to give him some space and decided to voice out her earlier curiosity to distract him. She has two fingers onto a darker trail, an unevenness on the otherwise pale smooth skin. She saw it while he was taking the shower.

A scar. The common type that surgeons are known to leave behind. It must be an old one, for it is almost flat with the rest of the skin and it is only a darker shade of pale. It's on the wrong side to be a result of appendicitis. What could have caused it?

“I don't know.” L truly has no recollection of how this scar came to be. He sounds like a lost boy. “I do not remember.”

The man has pulled back involuntarily, unaware of the exposure of his more sensitive regions. Sure, the distraction was a success, but Misa must have asked the wrong question and now it is overdone. All this time, the girl has refrained from looking anywhere below her eye level. While very aware of their vulnerable state, she keeps her overzealous curiosity in check. Ryuuzaki has shown such sensitivity towards her..can she not do something in return? On tiptoe, she plants a light quick kiss on his cheek. Their faces are both flaming hot.

“Ryuuzaki..” The model is concerned, though she takes on a cheery note and tries to make light of the moment. “Misa Misa will wait for you outside!”

“Thank you, Misa. I shall join you in five minutes.” Having said that, the disturbed man levers up the faucet to bring cold water splashing down, to calm his nerves, and to clear his head.

x x x x

L is troubled. Misa has dug up some ghosts from his neatly archived memories. Memories among memories that are simply engaging in a perpetual hide and seek game with him. He has let the untouchables remain just that. They do not affect his ability to function as a world renowned detective so the internal arrangement is quite fine, until now. He would rather deal with something real, something.. substantial. Not memories and emotions. What makes it worse is that he doesn't have a complete picture of what it is that's bothering him.

“Mhmm..Ryuuzaki?” Misa mumbles sleepily, head on his shoulder. They are seated at the leather sofa in his living room, their limbs a fluorescent contrast against the black hue of the upholstery. Upon departure from the gym, L had decided to indulge in a little afternoon refreshment at his own house before escorting Misa home. The stubborn little one has refused his offer of more unwanted calories, nose wrinkled in disdain. She has settled on a little nap beside him while he helps himself.

L has been reaching for his cup of sugar laden tea and the movement has stirred Misa awake. “Perhaps Misa would like to retire to one of my guest rooms?”

“No, too tired to move. Misa is comfy where she is.” Snuggling as close as she can when the man has both feet up at the seat, the girl promptly goes back to sleep, but not before she has successfully draped an arm across his ribcage while his hands are busy handling his food and beverage.

The position is inconvenient, for it restricts L's movements too much. Tentatively, he lowers one leg closest to Misa and stretches towards the coffee table. She begins to slip down on his loose sweatshirt. He frowns. Not the best sleeping posture. It would be extremely uncomfortable to wake up to knotted muscles in the shoulders and neck. So, he adjusts both of them to allow the sleeping girl to lie horizontally with his thigh as her temporary pillow. Misa doesn't stir. She is indeed overwhelmed with fatigue.

L considers carefully. What advantage could he gain from a relationship, one that is proving to grow more intimate as recent events have obviously indicated? None. At least, none that he knows of. Instead, it exposes a weakness in him. A weakness that can possibly affect his impartiality, despite the years spent in perfecting his skills. A weakness he does not wish to acknowledge, yet cannot deny the presence of. What have you done to me, Amane Misa?

The want to touch her has been increasing lately, yet he is afraid. Afraid of this foreign desire. He cannot hazard the risk of being too dependent on another human being, outside of his work. He cannot afford complications.

Yet, he lets his fingers roam freely on the halo of her bright hair. The blond tresses are silky cool. He rubs them between the pads of his fingers to relish their fineness. Stopping midway, he brings his digits close to inhale the lingering scent. An enchanting perfume of flowers and Misa. A particularly outstanding capture from the shower cubicle bursts to mind, the powerful mental recall exciting him as potently as it did when it actually happened, if not faster. He holds his breath, helpless at the sinuous heat coursing through his being.

With growing unease and wistful guiltiness, he finds his anticipation of what may develop rather objectionable. The desire to uncover mysteries, the need to pursue the unknown. Is that not part of who he is? Did that not ascend him to the current position at the top? Position..on top..

The aroused man covers his eyes with his free hand, feeling the intense heat oozing from his skin, up here and down there, hotter and hotter everywhere. He dares not examine further beyond Misa's hair and is content to park his exploring hand between her and himself, as a safety measure. He cannot take the potential stimulation she may deliver during her state of unawareness. A toss of her head or a flick of her hand could do much damage to his almost nonexistent self discipline.

L reflects on Misa's question earlier today, to keep his mind occupied on safer ground. What gave him that scar? When? By whom? Most importantly, why? His usually brilliant brain refuses to communicate, though it cannot block the sliver of panic escaping through the bolts and locks inside his mind. He suspects the answer is already within him, the only one trying to keep it buried is he himself. Or rather, his unconscious self.

Through years of solitude, of being emotionally detached, the detective has thought he has eliminated his weaknesses. Humans are emotional, therefore fallible. Correct decisions cannot be based on sympathy or anger. To be rational, one needs to put feelings aside. Is this hold so rigid that it limits how deep he can search within himself? Is that why he is still cautious with how close he should be with Misa? Is that the reason he dreads sleep, in fear of losing the absolute control he has on his own mind?

All those musings cannot help him to devise a solution. He does not have the relevant data on hand. No evidence, no motive, no place and time, no crime committed. For the first time in his life, he has a case that he has very little confidence in solving - himself.

Anguished, L buries his face in the crook of his arm, which rests atop his bent knee. The best detective cannot be sitting upon an incomplete foundation. If there is something wrong, solve it. Maybe it is time to look for the evidence. They are all in there, in his mind. This initial step is his alone. But this time, he is not truly alone. Misa is with him.

Immensely comforted, he takes a minute to gaze at his lovely guardian angel, to imprint her serene face upon his overtaxed mind. An image he has long memorized, along with a dozen others that he holds dear. Then he closes his eyes to begin his unconscious journey, in hopes of being stronger, for justice, for them both.

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More Notes: I actually had most of chapter 5 done last year but had a bad feeling about it so I let it ferment. Finally, I dumped that old version and here it is, entirely different. Not too many chapters left now since I still don't think I'll put up anything explicit here. I may have a separate fic, I dunno. If I'm posting that within this year, then yeah, that will be the one. Again, I'm sorry to keep you all waiting.

-M.H., Oct 21, 2009