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Characters: Bakura & L
Location: L's office in Watch HQ
Rating: Uh... PG-13 depending on what they talk about?
Time: 5/12, evening
Description: After running into L's doppelganger, Bakura goes to talk to his friend about WTF is going on.

By all surface appearances, it was the same as the night before. Come home late from working with the police to find his friends, cook dinner, fill L's oversized bento, and head out to deliver it to the detective at the Watch.

But there was a distracted expression. He had over cooked the first batch of carrots and had spent far to long debating remaking them or just leaving them out. The fruit salad was far more haphazard and held none of the previous nights artistry. It still looked quite presentable, but anyone who was familiar with Bakura's normal cooking and style would realize that something was bothering the teen.

But the person who would be receiving the bento already would know that....

Still, Bakura did his best to be alert as he walked, not letting himself get distracted. It wasn't until he was at L's office door that he at all relaxed. "Ryuzaki? It's me..." he called as he knocked.

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Instead of calling for Bakura to come in, L opened the door himself, almost immediately, wide-eyed and clearly jittery. He hadn't been at his desk; he'd been pacing, in a constant state of energy and movement. The heavy scent of stale coffee was probably a decent tipoff, and hopefully that was the only stimulant currently in the overworked detective's system.

Gentlemen, faites vos jeux.

"You weren't followed," he snapped curtly, seizing Bakura by the arm and pulling him into his office before closing and locking the door of the dark room, illuminated only by his seemingly endless collection of monitors.

Bakura startled, barely managing to keep a death grip on the wrapped bento as he was grabbed. "Ry--Ryuzaki..." he stammered, taking in the man's appearance and seeming jitters.

"...how much coffee have you had...? Did you eat anything yet?" he asked, holding out the bento, expression visibly concerned, even in the low light.

L brushed off the questions. He was irritated and there were more important things to worry about.

"That person you met today. Tell me what happened. What you said, what he said, whatever you remember. Quickly!" He barked, using his bare foot to push a rolling chair in Bakura's direction.

The white haired teen nearly flinched at the tone. "I--" he faltered, breath a little quickened, even as he sat down. There was a clear hesitation as he searched L's face, eyes darting up to look at his hair before checking his wrists.

No, no this was the right one. How badly had he screwed up...? Who was that person that L was so upset...?

He inhaled slowly, trying to pull his thoughts together. "I was heading out from the police station when I thought I saw you, so I called out your name and asked if you'd found something, since it didn't make any sense that you were there... he asked where I was going and who was there, but really, none of that mattered since it was just the station... then he asked to review everything and asked for a list of who was involved.. which was how I knew it wasn't you...."

He should have guessed sooner. Of all people he should have known...!

"So I tested him..." He held up his left hand, covering the scar with his right. "Saying that I thought he'd forgotten what I'd told him about that person... to see if he'd know what I was asking... and he didn't. That was when I texted you..."

In many ways, it really wasn't fair for L to take out his frustration on Bakura. Though there were slight differnces between him and Beyond that Bakura would be able to see up close (L was roughly half a decade older, Beyond was about an inch taller with a more muscular build, various facial features looked like deliberate distortions in a mirror image), the resemblance really was uncanny. Both were pale-skinned and appeared to be of European descent, shared posture and mannerisms, and had blackest-black hair in similar lengths and cuts.

Not that L was in a very understanding or charitable mood. Just a few hours prior, he had been bent over a barrel after attempting to control the situation, and now Beyond, that insane successor who always could have surpassed him, was cleverly maipulating him by threatening murder if L dared to out him as a killer.

He maintained his standing position, giving himself the higher vantage point as he bore down on the sitting Bakura.

"You have no idea what you've done. You have no idea what you have set in motion. You are so stupid sometimes, so naive, so careless... give me your mirror. Your phone, whatever you used to take that photograph. Now."

Edited (Punctuation is a thiiiiing) 2013-03-18 18:32 (UTC)

Bakura flinched, curling in at the verbal lashing. Wordlessly, he obeyed, holding out his mirror with a slightly trembling hand.

He didn't know. He hadn't any sort of clue at all. But with how angry L seemed to be...

If Bakura was worried about L smashing, frying, or otherwise destroying his mirror, he didn't need to. Once it was in L's hands, he was actually somewhat careful with it, using three fingers instead of merely two to hold it and setting it on his desk.

A few taps on the screen and he'd brought up the picture Bakura had taken of Beyond's blurry, retreating form. From behind, in those baggy clothes, Beyond was virtually identical to the detective.

L turned on his own mirror and began the process of recording his thin hand moving to delete the photograph. It vanished from the device. L fiddled briefly with the video, addressing it to one recipient, before deleting the video from his own mirror.

He lifted Bakura's mirror again, carrying it back and dropping it, none too cautiously, in the younger man's lap.

Edited 2013-03-18 19:12 (UTC)

Bakura caught it, fingers curling tight around it as he kept his eyes low. "That person... who is he...? Someone you defeated....?" he guessed softly.

If the name had been taken... wasn't that how L said he had gotten his names? Not that it explained the appearance... especially if L didn't have another him....

"Yes. That description suffices," he said curtly, watching his mirror intently after sending and deleting the video. "But that isn't to say that things couldn't have gone difeferently. He's cleverer than I am. Certainly more creative. And he knows you," he said, an edge creeping back into his voice. "He is all too aware of your connection to me, and all too aware that you're warning people about what I told you in confidence. Eve was talking to him on the network, she suddenly clammed up, and he figured out pretty quickly that you must have tipped her off. It was a conclusion we both reached."

"I only told her that he wasn't you...!" Bakura protested unhappily. "And there wasn't anyway to help anything else, since I thought he was you to start..."

L ignored Bakura for a moment, absorbed in his mirror, glaring up at him after the exchange of several hastily typed messages.

"You told him there were 'others?' You're going to be stalked. Maybe killed, and now he will be looking for 'others.'"

He knocked the bento box off his desk, letting it clatter to the floor.

"It would really be better if you couldn't talk, perhaps."

Bakura flinched again as the bento went flying, curling his shoulders in. "I... I thought you were bringing another video to the police department... I didn't..."

His breath caught and he pulled his knees to his chest, hugging them tightly. "It wasn't even anyone like that..." he near whispered.

L stared straight ahead, away from Bakura, lost in thought.

"I'm doing everything I can to save your life. I think you should know that. I also think that you should contribute to the effort and watch what you say. Now that he's aware you know about him, he'll be watching you and the influence you may have on whether or not others distrust him. Awareness isn't the problem... people have a right to know when they're in danger. But unfortunately, you've drawn his focus, and as someone who has also drawn his focus? I can assure you, it is not something you should be glad about."

L moved to the corner of his office, crouching and hugging his knees tightly, pressing his side against the wall as if hoping that the atoms would rearrange themselves and he could just melt through it to a safe, quiet, restful place. He had so much work to do, and now, the load was starting to appear impossible. He saw no endgame that didn't result in someone's gruesome death.

Bakura looked up, still tightly curled despite the aching protest of his shoulder at the tension.

To see L in such a state... and to have so much of it be because of something he did, however unintended... If only he were better than he was; smarter, stronger, anything so he wouldn't keep making so many mistakes and putting his friends in danger....!

"How can I help...? Anything, just tell me..." he offered, voice soft.

L remained bent and crouched, wilted against the wall, until Bakura offered to do "anything."

He straightened, heading back to his desk and scribbling an address on a piece of paper, slipping some crisp folding money into an envelope.

"Go here. It isn't far. Ask for Marco, say that Ryuuga sent you. Give him the envelope, bring what he gives you back to me. Can you do that much?"

Bakura nodded, unfolding and getting to his feet, smoothing down his shirt before walking over. He glanced over at the fallen bento, thankfully still tightly wrapped, before carefully couching down to pick it up.

"You should eat while I'm gone... you'll need it."

"Yes," L agreed noncommitally, watching Bakura pick up the bento. "I'll surely need everything. And hopefully, it will be enough."

Bakura held it out, eyes both worried and apologetic.

L accepted it, setting it back on the desk.

"Try not to cause any more damage. I mean it. I'm trying to salvage this, but please understand that I might not be in a position to rescue you, should something happen as a result of your actions tonight."

Bakura nodded, looking down guiltily. "Is there anything I should keep an eye out for...? Or keep in mind? Just leaving... didn't seem to help..."

L didn't look at Bakura, keeping his eyes on his computer screen as he settled into his chair, folding his wiry body up like a fortress.

"Marco's English isn't very good. So say Sono venuto per Ryuuga Candy Cane. Ordine consueto. La ringrazio. Don't stay long. And don't make eye contact with his friends."

He seemed unwilling, at least for the moment, to say anything more about Beyond Birthday.

Edited 2013-03-21 18:58 (UTC)

...what sort of errand was he being sent on...? Still, Bakura simply nodded, doing his best to memorize the sentence. Spanish, was it? Aaa, he was no good at most European languages...! Hopefully he wouldn't mess it up...

"I'll be back soon..."

Italian, actually. Not that poor Bakura had any reason to know.

"Yes. Nothing should happen to you on your way. Just to make sure, I'll keep an eye on your route."

"Thank you..." Bakura smiled softly. It was sort of strange, having one stalker to counter another... But reassuring. Maybe it was because of how the Ring was always present, but the thought of L taking a similar position... it was a comfort. Especially with the current situation.

"I'm heading out..." He waved, heading for the door.

"Marco" happened to live in the more affluent part of town, close to the financial district. His apartment was not as nice as the condos, but damn close.

If Bakura dared to knock on the door, he would be faced with a mountain of muscle.

"Cosa cerchi?"

Edited 2013-03-22 17:17 (UTC)

... oh hell.

Bakura hesitated a moment before holding out the envelope from L and awkwardly stammering out the unfamiliar sentence he'd been told, likely mangling it slightly.

The musclebound, swarthy man squinted at Bakura.

"Prego?"

A man inside the apartment shouted, and a flurry of Italian later, a suited man with a cigarette was at the door, taking the place of what appeared to be his bodyguard.

"Heard you. Your Italian, it is terrible. This is easy, first-timer. You give me the cash, I give you the bag, and then you? You scram." He plucked the envelope from Bakura's hand, opening it and giving a low whistle before barking something back into the apartment.

"Someone, he is burning the midnight oil? Sounds about right, considering who sent you. Good customer, when shit goes pear-shaped. And shit, out there?" He grinned, exhaling a cloud of smoke into Bakura's face. "Definitely pear-shaped."

The teen coughed at the smoke, trying to keep his composure while at the same time wondering what on Earth he was bringing back. He nodded nervously, keeping his head a bit low. "This sort of thing... he does it often...?" he asked, voice timid. He really wasn't expecting much of an answer, but still felt the need to ask.

Marco raised his eyebrows, inhaling deeply.

"As far as we're both concerned, amico? He was never here."

The muscular man handed Marco a brown paper bag, which was immediately transferred to Bakura. It was light and felt empty unless it was shaken around a bit, in which case one could hear plastic bags rustling against each other.

"Now. Scram," Marco reminded him, closing the door in the teen's face.

Bakura didn't need to be told twice. Awkwardly stuffing the bag into his pocket best he could, he hurried back to the Watch HQ.

When L answered his door for the second time that evening, he seemed to have calmed down, but then again, it might have just been the fact that he was tired, and possible to see just how tired when he wasn't animated and vicious. His frame wilted more than usual, his eyes were red-rimmed.

"I had worried that maybe he wouldn't give it to you. Did he?"

Bakura nodded, carefully pulling the bag out of his pocket to present to his friend. "This sort of thing... what is it...?" he asked, still a touch uneasy from the encounter and worried over his friend's appearance.

"It has the same base ingredients of... ritalin, maybe, or adderall," L said vaguely, taking the bag and curling up in his chair, setting his mirror flat on his desk and deftly taking apart a ball point pen. "It's a stimulant. Very safe. Just an extra kick when caffeine isn't cutting it."

Judging by his appearance, caffeine was, in fact, not cutting it.

"I told you that I have a lot to do, didn't I?"

Bakura didn't look too assured. If it was safe... why all the cloak and dagger to get it?

"U--- un..." he nodded. "Will you be all right...?"

"Of course I'll be all right," L said doggedly, the bag rustling as he dug into it for one of the plastic-wrapped packets, rubber band snapping as it was undone. "I'll call you if I notice anything suspicious around your apartment complex. I don't expect anything this quickly, though."

The repetitive clicking of metal against glass sounded, subtle scraping and pushing and spinning the hollowed-out pen in his fingers.

"You really can go. Staying here is going to help nothing. But if you want to help me more, for whatever reason, I have another errand I've thought of. You are aware that this person dresses like me? I need you to get me some new clothes. I don't like that it has to come to this, but I would prefer to short-circuit other misunderstandings and cases of mistaken identity if I can..."

Bakura nodded. "No buttons or layers, but maybe something with a pattern or colour to it?" he offered.

He'd given quite a lot of thought to differences that could be added to himself and the Ring's Voice, but never had pursued any of them out of an odd sort of stubbornness. It was odd to think that Ryuzaki would need those now....

"I don't care what you get. Just as long as it's different, and people will be able to tell us apart," L replied softly. "That is what matters."

He bent his head, inhaling sharply, brushing off his mirror and leaning forward in his chair as he continued to watch the monitors.

"I realize you'e not the only one that can make this mistake."

Bakura nodded unhappily. "I'm sorry... I should have been able to tell sooner..."

If for nothing else than knowing that there could be a double, even if Ryuzaki was from a different world.

L blew his nose and discreetly wrapped the white plastic tube from the ballpoint pen in the tissue, maybe quickly enough to hide the flecks of blood on one end.

"Again. It could have been anyone's mistake," he said, remaining turned toward his screens, eyes wide and riveted to their glowing images. "I was angry before because I've only felt this way once, and it was... well. My last day. I don't really know what to expect now, and I am afraid, but I don't think it was right of me to take it out on you. So. Please accept my apology."

Bakura nodded, a very faint smile on his lips. "I do. Thank you... I don't really blame you for it. I know I made a huge mess of things..." he acknowledged, fidgeting a little with his hand. "I just hope... I hope I can help put things right again. Anything I can do to help... even if it's just still bringing you meals. Just let me know... okay?"

"Food is fine. Clothes are better. At this time, there isn't much else I can do personally to avert the situation," L murmured, wholly engrossed in the screens as his focus began to drift from Bakura. "And nothing you can do, either. It's not good or bad, it's just what it is."

Bakura nodded, taking the shifting focus as his cue to get on with his errand. "I'll head to the store. Should I pick you up some pastry while I'm out....?"

"I'm not actually really that hungry. Too much coffee," L said, clearing his throat. "But perhaps I will be. If it's not too much trouble, you can certainly do so."

"Even if you don't think you're hungry, you still should eat," Bakura pointed out. After all, L had been the one who had said he sometimes couldn't tell if he was hungry, right? With how out of touch the detective was about his body and his needs...

"I'll get you a fruit tart, okay?" he promised, hand resting on the door knob a moment as he looked back over at his friend. "I'll be back..."

"Yes, that's fine, of course," L said, indiffent and distracted and maybe just a ghost of agitated.

"I like blue."

Bakura nodded, waving before he took his exit.

Blue clothes, he could do. Easily.

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Pardon any typos, spellcheck has abadoned this laptop

Re: Pardon any typos, spellcheck has abadoned this laptop

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Lucky for L, Bakura's too damned naive about drugs to get what's going on :)

FFS BAKURA

He was a sheltered kid, okay? :D

yes yes yes yes

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