A/N: Introducing "An Evening in Winchester", in which our dear Wammy boys get lost in Winchester, Hampsire, UK, Europe, Earth….I've done QUITE a lot of looking about on Google Maps, and Winchester really isn't that large, so let's pretend it is…for the sake of the fic. Please, babies, please….

But, ja, I hope you do indeed enjoy this little bit I have created, though I am sorry to inform you that there will be no BOY KISSING. GAAASP. Never fear, though, Matt is still gay, as he is in ever single Death Note fic EVER. I am so freakin serious, I have no idea how many DN fics I've read, but it's been a HULLUVA lot, and about 3% of those fics involve a straight Matt. Seriously.

But without further adeu, I present to you…

AN EVENING IN WINCHESTER.

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Chapter 1

The Death of An Ice Cream Man

The early summer days were always lazy ones for the children of Wammy's House. They would all mill about the house playing games and reading books and being very good children indeed….well, all if you don't count Mello.

"You've gone too far, Mello!" snapped Roger in his angriest tone. This voice normally struck trembling fear into the children of Wammy's, but not Mello. Mello heard this tone just about every day. And up at this point, he was very sick of it indeed.

"I 'go too far' everyday, old man," the 14-year-old told the severely annoying principal of the House. He was leaning sideways in his chair so that his right leg dangled lazily over the chair's arm, looking very irritated that Roger had pulled his away from completing his chocolate statue of Lady GaGa. He was getting so close, so very close to finishing the perfect replica of his dearly beloved GaGa. She would be his one day, and they would rule this pathetic world together in-

"Mello! Did you not hear me!"

"You'll be the first to go when the world falls to GaGa!" Mello bellowed back.

Roger let out a shaky, furious sign, fumbling around in his desk drawer for his beloved bottle of Xanax. He wouldn't have a panic attack in front of Mello. Not again. "Mello, this type of behavior will not go unpunished! The trouble is…" Roger opened the bottle and shook three pills into his mouth. "I've already given you ever punishment in the book."

A smirk crossed Mello's face at the thought of actually going without a punishment.

"But you will STILL be in trouble indeed!"

Damn.

Roger cleared his throat, glad the Xanax were starting to take effect. "Now, I've compiled a list of punishments I have always fantasized of having you do-" What the fuck? thought Mello's inner voice absently. "-and I suppose I could consult it. Let's see…" The old man took out a blue quill pen and began crossing off options that he knew Mr. Wammy would never allow, such as #13: Sell Mello to a traveling circus, or #81: Rip out each of his eyelashes very slowly, and even his personal favorite, #653: Shoot 50 mL's of Viagra into his drinking water. "I suppose I'll have to settle for #71. You will wash my car until it's spotless!"

No. Not Old Betsy. Everyone at the House knew that Roger's Red 1932 Ford Roadster was haunted with all the poor souls of Roger's previous lovers. The rumor around Wammy's was Roger would convince young women to marry him in secret, so he could take out a life insurance policy, only to kill them brutally in the back of Old Betsy before grinding up their flesh and bones so he could save a quick buck when Sloppy Joe night rolled around at the House.

Which is why no one ate the Sloppy Joes. Ever.

"B-But it's haunted!" protested Mello. "All your old whores will kill me!"

Popping another pill into his mouth, Roger shook his head furiously. "Then you will clean out the inside of it, too! There are buckets and rags in the garage. Get to it, or there will be even greater consequences!" He said, referring to #429: Give his pictures to PedophileUSA .com. The older man tossed Mello the spare key, and for a moment felt a dire sense of panic.

With an irritated grumble, Mello left Roger's office in an aggravated manor. Unbeknownst to him, though, Roger followed sneakily behind to make sure that Mello would complete his punishment. Mello was so angry, in fact, that when he saw his arch-enemy Near padding down the hallway in his annoying white clothes and sweet demeanor, he just had to shove the little bastard down. Near squeaked, more out of surprise that pain, and looked up at the boy who hated him so. "What is it that I did now, Mello?" the small white thing asked in his usual emotionless voice. It pissed Mello off to the fullest extent how he could punch and kick and beat Near, and he would keep that same unaffected tone.

"Shut the hell up!" Mello grumbled back, stomping forward. Of course he had no intention of cleaning Roger's car; in fact, he was planning on sticking weasels and things in the trunk. But still, he would have to search for such weasels and things in the woods behind Wammy's House for a good hour or so, and that was such a hassle. Roger never thought about what effects "punishments" would have on Mello. How selfish.

"Ahh, Near! I'm so glad one of our responsible students came along," Roger said to the smaller boy. "Mello is to wash and clean out my car, and I want you to supervise to make sure he does it right!"

Near's beady little eyes flicked to the infuriated Mello, to the glad Roger, and back to the former again. "Umm, I don't know if that's such a-"

"Grand, then! See you boys at dinner time!" said Roger before scurrying back into his office.

The boys stared at each other for what felt like minutes.

"I hate you," Mello said without anger in his voice. That's what scared Near so very much. "Hurry your ass up." And with that, he turned and went down the hallway to the front yard, where Roger kept his car. Near rushed to his feet and followed as fast as his short little legs would carry him.

That's when he was attacked. Or, glomped is the more common term for it. Near squirmed about as Matt held him down. "Heyyy, Near," the redhead purred. "What're you doing wandering the halls all by your lonesome? Someone might rape you…" Matt slowly raised his eyebrows and grinned mischievously. "But it's not rape if you want it." He bent down, about to bite the ear small boy, before Mello came over and kicked his best friend in the ribs, sending him toppling off of Near.

"Help me clean Roger's car," the blonde demanded of his roommate before turning back down the hallway. Near jumped to his feet and scurried after Mello, terrified of what Matt might do next. Every time they came into contact with each other, Matt took one extra step up on the Rapist Scale…

Outside, Mello and Matt began to fill up buckets of soapy water from the hose, while Near sat idly by in the grass, playing contently with Optimus Prime. Mello was cleaning the car as quickly and sloppily as he could, while Matt cleaned it veeeery slowly, leaning over the car seductively in hopes of getting his darling Near's attention. With a scowl, he realized that this wouldn't succeed, so he "accidentally" spilled the bucket of water over himself. "Ohhh, God, I'm all weeeeeet now!" Matt cried out in what he hoped was a sexy manor. "I'll have to take my shirt off..." Humming the tune of Let's Get Physical, the redhead slowly and deliberately began removing his shirt. "Ohhh, man, it's so cooold, my nipples are popping out in-"

"Shut the fuck up, Matt!" Mello yelled at his best friend, throwing a wet sponge at him. Matt shot one last longing look at Near before pulling his shirt back on.

That's when all hell broke loose.

Near perked his head up like a chipmunk, looking all around. "Did you hear that…?" He murmured to Optimus Prime. The robot stayed silent. "It sounds like the-"

"ICE CREAM MAN!" bellowed Mello in a warrior's cry. It's true, the beloved Ice Cream Man had just zoomed past Wammy's House at no less than 90 miles an hour, the tune of "Pop Goes the Weasel" playing ridiculously fast. Normally this would not be so important to teenagers, but this was the first ice cream truck they had seen all summer, and it was nearly the middle of June! Who knew when he would return again? Of course there was only one thing to do.

"GIT YOUR ASS IN!" Mello yelled to Matt, and partially to Near as he unlocked the front door and hopped in the driver's seat. "We have to catch him!"

Matt wasted no time in hopping next to Mello in the old car, glad to finally get a chance to get one of his beloved Star Bars at last. Near was still sitting in the grass, his face totally calm except for the panic in his eyes. "Um, we shouldn't leave school!" he protested, though he did indeed want some ice cream.

Mello's death glare convinced him otherwise. Near got a good grip on Optimus Prime and scurried over to the car. He jumped in next to Matt, disappointed that there wasn't a back seat, and Mello started the car and tore out of the driveway before Near had even shut the door. The ravaging blond belted down the road, fueled by his intense craving for ice cream. "You won't get away, dammit!" he screamed at the Ice Cream truck, which was now going 110 miles per house. He stomped on the gas, and the speedometer steadily creeped from 70, to 80, to 90…

"Mello, this is dangerous!" squeaked Near, holding onto Matt for dear life. Matt would have enjoyed this situation had be not also been completely terrified. "Y-You're not necessarily an experienced driver!"

Mello ignored this statement as he zipped after the truck. He knew enough to know that the left peddle was go, and the right one was stop. Or was it the other way around? Well, he was obviously doing something right, because the car was only swerving just a little, and he had only hit two cats so far. The young German growled in hatred as he turned a quick left, then right, and left again after the truck. It was avoiding them. That much was obvious, but why? Cars on the road honked their horns and hurried out of Mello's reign of terror, and this was becoming more frequent as the boys ventured into Downtown Winchester. Children on the sidewalks were crying for the ice cream man to please stop. "I will avenge you!" Mello yelled to them. They were gaining on that damn Ice Cream Man, couldn't have been more than 30 feet away. Mello honked the horn in white hot passion, but the truck didn't stop. They had long ago passed Downtown, and were moving into the ghettos of Winchester.

"We don't know this area, Mels!" Matt exclaimed, looking all around in search of a familiar piece of scenery. "Maybe we should head back-"

"I've nearly got the bastard!" hissed Mello in near victory. Up ahead was the sign "dead end", which blocked off the side of a cliff that went over the long, rapid Hockley River below. There weren't any turns up ahead, so the Ice Cream Man would either have to stop, or perish in the waters below.

He went with the latter.

"Dear Jesus!" Matt and Mello shrieked together, while Near merely squealed in terror as the boys watched the truck zoom over the edge of the cliff. Mello nearly forgot to stop the car, and hoped to God he was pressing the correct peddle when he stomped on the left one. The car squealed to a stop just before the front tires went over the edge. The three of them shared shocked and terrified looks before Mello turned off the car and they all hurried out to look over the side of the cliff. The ice cream truck was at the edge of the river, and it didn't seem to be too terribly battered.

Matt gulped in relief and looked at his cohorts. "Umm, maybe he's oka—"

The truck burst into flames.

They all released weak little screams. Near clutched Optimus Prime tighter to his chest. "H-He could still get out, I s-suppose-"

The truck imploded into nothingness.

"Oh."

All three of the Wammy boys slowly backed away from the cliff, still in a bit of shock. After the sun began to set minutes later, Mello decided he had to be the strong one and released a shaky sigh. "Come on. Let's go home." He opened the door of the car and stuck the key in the ignition before being interrupted by Matt's weary "Ummm, Mello…"

Mello turned to look at Matt. "Yeah, what?"

Near and Matt looked at each other, and then at Mello. "Where is home?" the both said quietly.

This even set fear into Mello. He looked around the area and saw nothing he recognized. He didn't know what direction Wammy's House was from the river. He only knew that it was a good 25 minutes away, when they were driving at normal speeds. None of the boys had mobile phones, and each couldn't have had more than three dollars in their pockets.

"Damn," Mello sighed to himself as the sun went down behind him. "We're lost."

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A/N: well, I certainly hope you're enjoying this so far. I'm having a lot of fun with it. And, yes, I know the likeliness of an ice cream truck imploding is about one to sixty buh-million, but I thought it would be funny…please read and review, I luff you, darlings!