Author's Note: I don't own Sherlock/Death Note. This is a fluff piece I had to write, because my friends and I are Death Note and Sherlock Fans. One friend pointed out how alike L and Sherlock are. What if L knew Sherlock? Here is what we think would happen.

The sun was setting in London. A curly-haired man was walking briskly down a street, his neck in a scarf and his head hanging low. It appeared as though he had a place he needed to get to quickly, and he was trying to get there without being noticed. He pivoted, turning toward a hotel. He swung open the door and made his way toward the elevator. To ensure he would not be seen by anyone else, he pushed the "door close" button. The elevator doors shut and then opened again on the 10th floor. He stepped out and pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket. Written on it was the number of the room where he would find the infamous "L", the detective who usually hid his identity.

The detective, "L", was working on a very special case and needed urgent assistance from another infamous detective. The man found the proper room and knocked on the door. A lean butler with white hair and a black bowtie greeted the man silently, and motioned for him to enter. The butler led the man in to room where the detective sat on a plush sofa, his knees raised up to his chin. The table is covered in sweets, the detective is not wearing shoes, his clothes are wrinkled and his hair is a mess. The curly-haired man processed the scene in his head, oddly unable to deduce much. The butler broke the silence, "Sir, Mr. Holmes is here to see you, just as you requested."

"Aw, yes Sherlock, I've been waiting for you! Please come in, make yourself at home! Watari will take your coat. Now, come sit here with me!" He patted the empty sofa cushion next to his.

Sherlock was a bit confused, but he liked being confused. Being confused meant he had to think, and thinking was his favorite thing. He sat on the sofa, in the same position as the other detective, pulling his knees up to his chin.

"Oh, you are sitting like me? Well, it is the best position for thinking. Would you like coffee? Tea? Cake?" The little detective with the messy hair held a plate with a pink and white cake in front of the other detective's face. The entire coffee table in front of them was covered with similar sweets

"Coffee, black, two sugars please," Sherlock responded.

"Are you sure you don't want any cake? I'll let you have the strawberry?" L questioned Sherlock with puppy dog eyes.

What a strange little man, I thought he was supposed to be a genius and a great detective… this does not appear to be true. Sherlock thought, but decided he'd give the odd detective a chance.

"Sure, I'll take a piece of cake I guess," Sherlock mumbled regretfully. He sipped his coffee and took a small bite of his cake and strawberry. L emptied three packets of sugar into a small cup of tea and stirred it with a cherry lollipop. He took a huge sip, and then ate an entire slice of cake.

"The best thing about this country is the tea! I grew up here, bet you didn't know that! I bet there is a lot you think you know, but you don't. I know because I'm a lot like you Mr. Holmes." L taunted in a childish manner.

Sherlock glared at L with aggravation. Then he said, "I don't claim to know everything. I just know what I need to know, and I delete the rest."

"Of course. Well, that's not important right now! You're probably wondering why I called you here!" L's speech was broken up as he shoved candies in his mouth.

"Yes, you said an interesting case had come up and it was urgent that you solve it?" Sherlock would take an interesting case from anyone, even this lunatic.

L replied, sipping his tea, "It is sort of. See, I knew I could only get you here if you thought it was going to be about an interesting case. Which it is, but not exactly the kind you usually deal with. No murders…"

The shoeless detective baffled Sherlock yet again. He asked, "Well then what kind of case is it?"

L set his tea down on the table and put his face very close to Sherlock's. He began to whisper. "Well, I've got a MAJOR crush on this guy on my investigation team for the Kira case! And I follow your work very closely, so I've noticed that you have got a male companion, what's his name… John? This will be my first time asking a guy out so I'm like TOTALLY FREAK OUT! He's so adorable! He's got dark brown hair and big eyes and this annoying girlfriend but we can get rid of her. I've befriended her will that make it easier or harder? You'll help me get rid of her right? And his dad will totally approve! I'm not positive he likes me back but -" L burst out the truth.

"Um, sorry L, but … John and I aren't gay… we're just flat mates." Sherlock interrupted the rambling detective.

L dropped sideways onto the couch, with his knees still up to his chin, but now he gripped them tightly with both of his hands. "But… but… but… but…" He croaked over and over.

"But what?" Sherlock asked with some genuine concern, but didn't even both to turn and face the broken detective.

"I SHIPPED YOU GUYS," L said, and he burst into tears, "HOW AM I GOING TO BREAK IT TO THE OTHER FANGIRLS? WHAT WILL THEY SAY?"

A moment later Sherlock was lying on the living room floor of his flat, with a pounding feeling in his head. He couldn't remember what had just happened. The telly was on, playing some Japanese show about a detective who loved to eat sweets. How familiar… he thought. He sat up and realized why it was so recognizable, OH! That man I met… or what… was that a dream?

John walked into the room, "Sherlock! What happened to you?"

"I had to most terrible dream!", Sherlock responded.

Chapter 2 is on it's way.