A/N: I'm backkkkkk!! It only took me a couple months and forever!! Hmm, but release of this and other random story stuff will be out few and far between as my boyfriend is still recovering from his accident and I'm taking care of him. Don't you feel the love??! Anyway, I dreamed this the other day so it makes absolutely NO sense. Crack, crack, crack stuff. And ignore all the random references. I just think they are fun. :) Reviews are lovely as well! Thank you anddddd goodnight!


Ping! – A Lamentation to the Elevator

It seems that there is a game going around the office.

Ping!

L always arrived at the investigation room exactly at 8:05AM. He was never over or under the five minutes past eight, so the eight plus five it was to be.

Ping!

The doors would always open grandly, illuminating the darkness of their workstations with prettily positioned artificial lighting that Misa-Misa had somehow got L to install. The various colors and patterns would change at random and Light once choked as the shadow of Hello Kitty floated eerily across his lap.

Ping!

The thing about the elevator, quite happy about its girlish makeover, was that L had also installed a sound system. It was quite unlike elevator music par normal.

Ping!

Throughout the morning, various members would arrive at the investigation room with a happy ping and would grace the others with their presence and that of a random selection of songs. Songs that Misa-Misa was all too happy to provide the great detective from her shiny, pink iPod.

Ping!

It seemed Aizawa and Matsuda had started a game. They were to guess what best fit L's (non)emotions of the day when he would enter the room, and it seemed even the lanky detective had taken a liking to their shenanigans as he had started dressing up in various ways. Sometimes he would come in with a badly drawn lightning bolt on his cheek and Matsuda would yell "Harry Potter!", then would lose in horror as Mogi muttered, "Lady Gaga," and took his share of the winnings. So far, L had entered the room with a Donald Trump toupee, Burger King's "The King", in Assasin's Creed regalia, as Ciel Phantomhive, with a Hitler moustache, as Domo, as Link, and even graced them with his presence in one of Misa-Misa's personal oufits and a blonde pigtailed wig, to the horror and subsequent puking of his colleagues.

Ping!

It was like some sick, social experiment, so Light thought.

Ping!

Light and his father arrived at seven thirty usually, and always seemed to get a variety of Hyper Crush, Alice Nine and Nirvana.

Ping!

Next were Mogi and Aizawa, accompanied by Rammstein and the Ying Yang Twins, respectively.

Ping!

A weepy Matsuda would peel himself from his position against the metal wall of the elevator and lament under his breath how Jack Johnson "gets him every time".

Ping!

Then, as Watari arrived accompanied by Attack Attack!, bringing cakes, cookies, tarts, tea and a plethora of other heart-attack rendering delights, the room would grow quiet and eyes would shift to and from the clock, willing the second hand to move faster. Sometimes there would be words and other times significant amounts of money or other prizes would change hands as the betting began and that fateful ping would determine the winner of that day's round…

Ping!

Matsuda's bloodshot eyes whipped around and even Soichirou spared a glace towards the elevator as the gleaming doors slid open and owlish eyes stared right back.

For a moment, everyone stared as L emerged and took his seat next to his prime suspect, annoying the college student as L leaned ever closer and muttered what sounded like sweet nothings under his breath while popping Smarties into his mouth one by one. Well… sweet nothings or deductions. One or the other.

Then, when the eerie light of the elevator did not leave Light's computer screen, he turned slightly in his seat, golden hair flowing to and fro as he took in the shocked, baffled, and thoughtful expressions his colleagues wore. He turned further and eyes widened a fraction as Light spied what the others were looking at.

Still residing in the elevator were, what appeared to be, three boys piled one on top of the other. They were still wearing their pajamas and the red headed one on the bottom of the dog pile was snoring beneath yellow goggles as the two sitting on top of him eyed the room full of older men.

As the goggles kid grunted, trying to roll over and the blonde one smacked the top of his head with a chocolate bar, Matsuda snapped out of his temporary paralysis over seeing L with, well, people. His mind began cranking and churning and Light's eyes rolled to the ceiling in exasperation as he watched Matsuda take on his new favorite position as "The Thinker".

All it took were a few seconds.

Three…

Two…

One…

The happy ping struck again and Matsuda pointed at first the blonde, then the redhead, then at L , saying in turn, "AHA! Deidara, Obito, Sasuke and…" He cut off when he arrived at the albino twirling his hair in tandem with his toes and Matsuda's face grew quizzical.

Silence.

Then, "I… I… I don't know who you are."

At that, Light snapped his pencil in two and swirled around, screaming, "Michael Jackson, dumb shit! It's Michael Jackson!" At that, he shook out his stress, centered his chi and sharpened his now tiny pencil as he went back to work, happy to see that his ears were graced with beautiful, stunned silence.


A/N: O_O Not too bad, right...?