Author's Note.

I'm back, after my computer contracted a virus and died on my, losing all previous work, including an almost complete BB one-shot that was extremely long and I was very proud of as it was a birthday fic. I now have a wonderful new machine, all protected and yay, but I do not have any word programs installed onto this machine yet, so this has been typed on basic Window's notepad. So sorry for the crappy quality.

This fic seems to have mutated from the original plots and details that I planned. It has been split into two formats. One being a past time line, one between Halle and Mello leading up to the present situation and one where Halle is dealing with the repercussions from those instances. Though the former events are not strictly following a chronological order alone, they fit with the shorter secondary storyline in the correct sequence... or at least, they do in my mind. lol.

So in effect, I'm attempting to tell two smaller stories within the confines of a larger project.

Disclaimer.

Not mine, I am poor. I can't cut anyone any cheques but I can cut evil suing lawyers with a blank cheque... meeh heh heh heh.

Through the Fire and the Flames.

Chapter 2. Cornered.

She was tired. Damned tired.

Her temples pulsed in time to her heartbeat, stabbing painfully behind her retinas, and her stomach churned with nausea.

Pinching at the bridge of her nose and massaging in a vain attempt to ease the migraine that was already clouding her senses, Halle Lidner stepped from the elevator on the third floor and strode purposefully to her apartment door.

The SPK had suffered a heavy blow. Almost all of the agents and Directors had been murdered. Mercilessly culled by none other than Near's rival and 'brother detective' Mello, in a desperate attempt to force Near from the Kira case inherited to them both from L. The whole action smacked of childishness, squabbles and spite between two siblings. Granted most ordinary children would simply knock down the others tower, or perhaps stomp on his toy soldiers, and be satisfied with that. Sitting back on their haunches and laughing as the other would sob and gather his blocks or bent soldiers up and scurry off to play elsewhere. But then, these two young men were far from ordinary.

Halle hissed a sigh from between clenched teeth as she considered the very real possibility that perhaps, to Near, the SPK were little more than toy soldiers, then Mello would be perfectly justified in the 'stomping' of Near's army.

Her fingers closed around the door knob to her front door as her other hand fished out her key. As much as she hated the idea, she was beginning to resent the pale child detective. He was supposed to be protecting his people, hiding their identities behind walls of falsities and deception. But obviously he had not. Near was baiting. Baiting Kira and Mello both, who in turn were baiting him and the other. To her, it was becoming clear that this entire case was had a distinct undertone of one-up-man-ship. A theme. Kira, Mello, Near and L. Each and every one of them, childish and spoiled.

She felt as though she were more a kindergarten teacher rather than a Federal Agent, and that notion left a very bitter taste in her throat.

Halle pocketed the key once more and gave the knob a sharp twist, the ferocity of the motion easing a little of her frustration. She stepped over the thresh hold and closed the door behind her with a careful click, dropping her purse on the small table beneath a coat hook mounted upon the hall wall. Cupping the back of her neck, Halle rubbed and dug her fingers into the aching knots thumping beneath her skull. A shower. She longed for water, bordering on scalding, to slough away the grime and the tension of the last 48 hours that strangled her muscles. With the promise of relief singing in her mind, Halle shrugged off her dress jacket and stepped gracefully from her shoes simultaneously before moving further into the darkened apartment, heading toward the bathroom...

... Halle Lidner, former CIA Agent. Trained in multiple firearms, skilled in negotiation, and sharp enough to think on her feet under extreme pressure and in highly dangerous situations. Smarts and skills at her disposal, she had never once found herself caught off guard.

It all happened far too fast for her deadened reflexes to cope and respond to. The air around her suddenly thickened with the tangible scent of smoke and musk. It clung to the back of her throat as she suppressed the reflex to gag. Someone was here, she was sure of it. Then she heard something crackle in the shadows to her left and she turned sharply, her migraine instantly forgotten and her right hand going to her holstered gun strapped to her ribs.

Her fingers never closed around the textured grip of her weapon before she froze.

Silver winked from the depths of the shadows and a cold, metallic mouth touched her forehead in a perversely tender kiss. Halle's muscles in her spine snapped taut and she jerked upwards an inch.
A gun. A cold sweat broke across her nape. Someone had broken in so professionally that she hadn't noticed until she was cornered. Mind distracted by the promise of a hot shower and her instincts deadened by fatigue.

"Move," A resounding click as a full magazine was snapped into place. "and I'll fire." The voice was low, quiet but above a harsh whisper.

Halle just stood there sweating, mind racing. For all her training and skills she was helpless. Helpless because of a simple migraine. The ground swayed beneath her and her knees threatened to give way as her mind and senses slowly succumbed to the cold caress of panic.

"Wh-who are..." Halle cringed at the tremor in her voice. Clearing her throat she tried again. "Who are you?"

The dark voice ignored her question. "I've been watching you, Agent Lidner." It rasped heavily. "I know you are connected to the Kira case, you are one of the surviving members of the SPK, under the command of Near."

Halle's eyes widened at the mention of her commander, the harsh notes the disembodied voice took on at the mention of his name. She knew who she was dealing with now, and a little of her confidence returned. "Mel- nrgh!"

A heavy boot kicked out, hooking behind her knee and jerking forward just hard enough for Halle to drop onto one knee.
"Not a sound, I will kill you!" His left hand came up and pulled back the chamber, loading the first bullet from the magazine before dropping limply back to his side. "So don't harbour any stupid ideas that your life is of any value to me."

Her arms shot out for balance, then she tilted her chin up. From her new vantage point she could see his eyes. Blue, light yet cold as artic winds gleaming from the darkness shrouding his features. His gun arm trembled slightly. Halle narrowed her eyes briefly, he was holding the weapon in his right hand, but she was sure he was left handed.

"It is you." She sounded almost relieved. Most probably because that simply meant that she was not dealing with the uncertainty of an unknown assailant. "But you're supposed to be dead. The explosion,-"

Her teeth clamped down involuntarily, needles of pain shooting to her temples and re-igniting her migraine as they scraped on the metal of the gun barrel that had suddenly been forced between her lips.

"I told you! Not a God damned sound, or I'll kill you!" The voice snarled, hatred dripped from his lips. She tried to lean back, retreating from the sharp and bitter taste dancing on her tongue when she gingerly brushed the organ against the barrel, trying to push the weapon away from the confines of her mouth. He smirked cruelly from his shadows and simply forced the gun deeper until she gagged. "I'll do it. I will. If you don't start doing exactly as I tell you, you will die tonight, do you understand?"

Halle felt numb. Ever since she had graduated into the CIA, death had hounded her. Always hung over her head like an ax waiting to fall. And she had accepted this inevitability, not with the single minded intent of the suicidal, nor with the hopeless despair of the doomed, but as the simple fact of life that it was. But that didn't mean that she sought out death. In fact, Halle Lidner did her best to avoid it if she could.

Now, with a gun jammed down her throat and a dangerous young man at the trigger, her mind was at it's clearest. Despite the rapid tripping of her heart she wasn't panicking. He wouldn't kill her, she was sure of that. If she was disposable, he wouldn't have hesitated in firing. He needed her and expected the threat of death to be enough to make her do whatever he wanted.
And it was his assumption that allowed Halle's survival instict the moment it needed to rip down the fear that fogged her judgement, now what she needed most, was the gun out of her mouth.

Halle raised her hand, palm up, in a surrendering motion. Indicating that she was suitably cowed and would follow his instructions. She hoped that would be enough for him to remove his weapon. Hoped his arrogance would override his sense of caution and fuel his notion of his superiority over her. Slowly, metal was dragged from between her lips and his arm dropped to his side.

For a moment Halle waited on her knees for him to grant her permission to stand. None was uttered so she assumed he had no qualms to her raising herself to her feet. As she tucked her toes beneath her foot to stand, her attention shifted from the man hiding in the shadows to the floor, touching her fingertips to the cheap laminated hardwood.
Preparing to stand, Halle lifted her chin to re-focus her attention upon him, watching for any sudden movement that might send her diving across the floor.

She froze.

The sinister and grinning steel mouth bore down upon her forehead. A scant centimeter from touching flesh and chilling her to her core.

"I didn't say you could stand." He purred. His entire attitude and presence had turned on its head, oozing malice and confidence now as opposed to the threats and the uncertain undertones. Her gesture that she would obey him had obviously been noted and appreciated.

He pressed the guns barrel to the underside of her chin and tilted her face a fraction to the left, inspecting her. Halle felt his cold gaze settle, boring into her own hooded eyes and feared that somehow he could read her intention in her expression.
She turned her head away, chin sliding from the muzzle, bowing into her chest and letting her flaxen strands curtain her face from his probing eyes.

"That's better."

Halle drew her hands into herself, tucking her elbows in and holding them close to her body. Lifting her eyes but keeping her head down, Halle could only see as high as a pale swath of flesh peeking above the waistband of his glossy black pants, not that that was of any consequence.
Balling one fist, she carefully wrapped her other hand over it, mindful of where her thumbs lay and that her wrists were prepared to take the shock of impact.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. And then she swung.

Her fists connected and he howled. His hands covering his lower abdomen. Shit. Her aim had been off, her intended target had been his groin but the effect was the same. As his knees buckled and he fell, Halle lunged to her feet, pulled her own weapon free from its holster and trained it on his back as her other hand slapped at the wall for the light switch.
She was momentarily blinded by the white fluorescent glare as the light bulb overhead flooded the hallway, chasing away the darkness and robbing him of his protective shadows. As her vision cleared Halle was confronted by the sight of him on his knees, gun held by an unsteady hand as it was raised at her side.

"You kill me and you'll draw both Near and Kira's attention to yourself. Fire it in here and the neighbors will call the police. Either way, it's not in your best interests." She warned, still training her gun on him.

Despite the artificial light that now filled the hallway, she couldn't quite make out his face. Features still obscured by shadows cast by his hood. But his white teeth flashed in a feral snarl. "I could shoot you and escape in less than thirty seconds and no one would have any indication that I had been here. The police would report it as a bungled burglary and Near, well, just how many tears did he shed over his other agents? None I'll wager. His head is so far up his own ass in this case, I'd doubt he'd even consider my involvement here. And even if he did, he could care less." He centralized his shot. "Care to test the theory, 'Hal'?"

He seemed pleased with his verbal assault, but Halle was already in motion. Her hips swinging round and putting all of her strength into her attack as her heel came down on his right shoulder. Again he howled, fingers laxing in their grasp on his gun as the weapon spun from his fingers. He toppled onto his left side, howl dissipating into a high shriek. Halle had never heard a human make such a sound before but she couldn't afford to dwell. She dropped to her knees over him, grasped his shoulder and slammed him onto his back.

His hood fell from his head as he gasped and there he lay, the infamous Mello, pinned beneath her is all his snarling glory.

As she leaned over him, gun steady at his shoulder and her free hand patting down his sides one at a time, the scent that she'd noticed prior to his attack slammed her full in the face. Smoke and overcooked meat. Halle's mind reeled, trying to place the pungent aroma. The smell was sickening and her stomach lurched and roiled in disgust as she finally snapped the pieces together. You never forgot the thick and overly sweet stench of scorched human flesh, and Halle had sampled her fair share during her training days, spending hours down in the cadaver labs and watching skilled medical experts, alongside their allocated undergrads, performing case related autopsies in search of evidence.

Mello's entire left cheek was blackened and peeling and blistered. The splits in the external layers of flesh curling away to reveal wet and red internal tissue, untouched and healthy beneath the charring. Halle's gut gave a rather violent pitch and she leaned away, vomiting yellowish bile and stomach acid onto the floor. She had seen examples of this kind of burn before, back in the cadaver labs. In cases of brief and extreme heat, the uppermost layers of flesh were incinerated but inner layers remained intact as the time span disallowed the heat to penetrate the body further.

Halle, having regained control over the retching contractions in her diaphragm, leaned over Mello's face once more only to discover that his eyes were glazing and his lids were flickering shut. He was fading, and fast, his body finally giving into the agony.

Halle tossed her weapon aside and grasped his chin as firmly as she dared, careful not to flinch as the scaly dead flesh crackled under her touch and the open scores wept their clear watery fluids as she tilted his head to her. His skin was still hot to the touch. "Mello..? Mello! Look at me!" She urged.

She caught flashes of pain bright teal, darting beneath his darkened lashes. He was fighting, and that filled her with confidence. She shoved herself to her feet and bent back down, grasping his right wrist and right shoulder and hauled him into a sitting position. Mello's lids parted, the rough treatment shocking him awake.

"That's it. Come on now, stay with me." Halle squatted beside him, dragging his right arm across her shoulders and jamming her left into his right armpit, hoisting him to his feet. "You have to help me now, okay?" She took a step and Mello mimicked it with a clumsy stagger.
The short journey to the bathroom was excruciatingly slow and painfully strenuous. Several times Halle had to halt the entire progress and wedge Mello's prone form between her hip and the wall, adjust her grip and then stagger onward. Mello's chin rose and fell in irregular intervals, consciousness slapping him awake just long enough for him to swallow a pained gasp before his sudden drops caused Halle's hold on him to slip and repeat her alterations.

Finally they reached her bathroom, and in her relief, Halle almost fell through the doorway dragging the barely conscious Mello after her. For such a slim and scrawny looking male, Mello was fairly heavy. She lumbered over to the bathtub that doubled up as her shower cubicle, carefully balanced the blond upon her hip as she bent across the yawning plastic tub and yanked the faucets on fully and forced the rubber bung into the plughole. The water clanked up the pipes and sputtered for a few moments before running as perfectly formed pellets. She awkwardly made a few adjustments to the pressure and temperature, passing her freed hand under the stream to check the results of her fiddling. Cool and gentle rather than her preferred scalding and pelting. She hardly thought Mello would appreciate more heat stinging his already ravaged body.

Shaking her wrist sharply and flinging the slick colourless sheen from her fingers, Halle tilted her chin down. Mello's head drooped forwards, his lashes flickering faster than before. He was struggling now. His strength and stubbornness almost completely spent. Halle sighed softly. There was no way she could simply push him under the shower head's spray and leave him there, he wasn't lucid enough for long enough periods of time. He'd probably collapse and end up drowning in the half inch of water that now ran the length of the tub, then she'd really be up shit creek.

"I know I wanted a shower," she grumbled to herself as she fumbled with her holster and tossed it aside. "But I was expecting the water to at least be hot, and that I would be taking it alone." She paused, glanced down at her suit blouse, and sighed. It was new and tailor made, so expensive. She debated for a moment, toying with the button at her throat, then decided against removing it. "If you survive, you're paying me back for it."

Stepping into the tub first, Halle caught her bottom lip between her teeth as the chill pellets hit her back, seeping through the silken fibres of her shirt and stroking paths along her spine. And carefully, she eased the barely conscious Mello to join her.

Rester spotted her easily and quickly amongst the sparsly populated tables, not that he would have struggled even if the shop had been bustling. Halle Lidner was a striking woman, tall and slender, but firmed beneath her feminine curves by years of extensive training. Such a woman would not go unnoticed in Japan when the women were more delicate and petite.

She had selected a quiet booth at the back of a quaint little cafe. Not so far back that they would appear suspicious to an overtly curious customer, but far enough that their conversation would not be overheard. He approached the counter and ordered himself a coffee along with daifuku. The woman tending to the register bowed her head in greeting before ringing up his purchases, her eyes sliding briefly in Halle's direction. Rester smiled softly to himself as he noted the action.

Halle glanced up from her dog-eared novel as Rester placed his purchases in front of an empty seat, her lips twitching just enough for the motion to pass as a greeting. He shucked off his jacket, mindful to cover the gun hidden in its inner holster as he draped it over the back of his seat, and slid his legs beneath the table. "You have an admirer."

Halle's topaz eyes lifted from beneath her heavily lashed gaze, one expertly shape brow cocked at her colleague as she marked her page and placed the book beside her own beverage and plate. "do I now?"

Rester smirked and picked up his fork, cutting into the white dough of his daifuku and exposing the vivid red of the sweet bean paste inside. "Well you've created a little interest from the hostess up at the counter." He said, forking a bite of his confectionery into his mouth. "She kept eying you."

Halle shrugged and stabbed at a piece of her Ichigo daifuku. "Merely curious Rester. I was an unescorted western woman seated alone in her place of business. Now that you've joined me she appears to have been satisfied of her curiosity."

He laughed softly and placed his fork upon his now empty plate, all traces of the daifuku vanished with his final swallow. "Okay, okay. I see you have your 'all work and no play' mentality in place today." He picked up his coffee and took a sip. His face suddenly becoming somber as he lowered the cup. "So, what is it that bothers you?"

Halle picked up her iced coffee, it was fairly warm today for the time of year, held the straw daintily between thumb and forefinger as she stirred it once. "What makes you think that somethings bothering me?" She eyed the man carefully as she sipped her cold drink.

"Well, for one thing, you called me up at dawn this morning and invited me out to talk."

Halle paused.

"You're not a sociable person really Halle. You're usually all business. This invitation, it's kinda out of character for you." Rester's cool grey-blue eyes studied her for a moment, gauging her reaction before he continued in a hushed tone. "Is it him?"

She fixed the man with a level stare. Trying to maintain an air of calm despite the nauseatingly strong clenches pulsing low in her belly. "Him?"

Rester sighed. "You know perfectly well who 'he' is Halle. Is it Mello? Did he contact you again?"

Mello. The images from her dream, her memory last night, flashed up in her minds eye once more and the roar of blood surging through her ears drowned out Rester's next words. But she could read his lips clearly enough.

"You must inform Near if Mello has been contacting you again." Rester lectured wordlessly.

The pulses of nausea grew stronger, constricting at her throat and making her feel warmer. Guilt, she decided. Guilt because she had not informed her commander that his rival had been staking out the SPK headquarters the last time she had sighted him. Guilt because she had not told Near that Mello had protected her from harm that last time. Guilt because she had pushed all thoughts and responsibility, that she knew were hers to bear, aside and allowed Mello to touch her very core in actions that virtually cemented her loyalty to him and not her commander.

He had left his mark on her, and though no one could see it, Halle swore felt the brand of 'traitorous bitch' burning her from the inside out.

Bile surged up her throat. Kicking back her seat, Halle lunged to her feet. Rester followed, his face drawn and taut with worry. His eyes darted to the doorway as though he expected her to bolt. And bolt she did. Though, not towards the exit, but toward the bathroom instead. Leaving Rester alone to deal with the accusing stares of patrons whose outings had been disturbed by an assumed western couple and a silly little tiff, and the slow disapproving shaking of the hostesses head.

Author's Note. 2:

Okay, a few things to point out here. One, my updates have slowed right down due to work and that I'm undergoing some changes that are eating into my spare time. Two, I have been hit really hard by a problem with my jaw and have now got to attend consultations ever 2-4 weeks in order to discover how serious a problem it is and how soon I can go in for an operation, which wile involve something similar to braces but fixed to my jaw bone or them simply breaking and re-setting it. Hence I am understandably nervous. And three, I am currently sorting things for my trip to Anime Oasis in may, which includes ticket buying, clothes buying and finding a kitty sitter for Mana.

So I am understandably busy right now, but I am currently rescuing a I-was-lost-but-now-I'm-found fic with the help of saved chats and emails, along with finally tweaking the draft to the next Tramps installment.

~Daifuku is a soft round mochi stuffed with sweet filling, such as sweetened red bean paste. ~Ichigo daifuku is a version containing a whole strawberry inside.