Lost Boys

Le'letha

Summary: Ficlet collection. The bits and scenes that nobody saw, that didn't happen, or that could have been.

Author's Note: Le'letha, two of my friends said this January, you HAVE to start reading this series. The very next week, my school library got the first six books. NOW it's eaten my brain (and my wallet), and I have to get the resulting ficlets out of my head lest I explode. Therefore, these are not complete stories. They're fragments. Many of them are from that grey zone between awake and asleep. (Also, there are so many jokes implicit in the title that I'm not even going to go there.)

Warning: Ficlet series may contain spoilers, blatant plot changes, or outright denial. Also may contain trace amounts or hints of slash.

Disclaimer: I don't own Death Note. If I did, I wouldn't have to be a citizen of Denial Land. As it is, I'm printing passports.

ON WITH THE SHOW!

I told this one to my best friend on the way to school, purely for the punch line. She laughed and told me that I'd better write it.

Ficlet One: March?

It was going to take them all a long, long time to get back on a regular circadian rhythm, Raito thought resignedly. The task force had been pulling all-nighters for a week, sifting through and correlating data. It had taken Matsuda falling asleep on his pile of papers, creating a miniature avalanche, for Ryuzaki to realize that they were all behaving like zombies.

It was really amazing how someone normally so observant could not notice things like that.

Scanning the corridors of the task force's headquarters, Raito couldn't help but worry that even though it was technically mid-morning, everyone was asleep. What if some new information came in?

Well, he supposed that Ryuzaki had rigged some sort of alarm system to alert everyone if that happened. The eccentric young detective could make computers do things Raito had never thought of.

Shaking his head, Raito headed for the main room. He'd check that no red flags had gone up, and then find something to eat.

He'd expected the room to be dark; computers powered down if not off. He was halfway right. All the lights were off. The computers were working at full power, although the screens were dimmed.

No prizes for guessing who was still awake.

"Ryuzaki," he asked sarcastically, "don't you ever sleep?"

For a moment, he thought the little detective hadn't even heard him, but Ryuzaki finally answered, "Close the door."

Asking 'why?' was completely useless, he'd learned. So he didn't ask. It was a small enough request.

"Better," Ryuzaki approved, turning the computer chair slightly to look at his visitor. "I like the dark. No news. And no."

Raito took a second to sort out the answers. It seemed like he'd answered at least one that Raito hadn't even asked, but L did that. Often.

"Rhetorical questions aside," Raito brushed the answer off, "when was the last time you slept—really slept? Catnaps don't count."

Ryuzaki tipped his head on one side, index finger automatically resting on his lips as he mused it over.

"The last time I slept? Hmm." His eyes lost their focus for a second, making him look utterly, deceptively clueless. Finally he came up with, "March?"

For his troubles, he received a deadpan stare. "This must be some new branch of your sense of humor that I don't yet understand."

"No," L denied, keeping the innocent look.

"Ryuzaki, its July."

"So?"

The two gave each other identical uncomprehending stares.

"I think I need breakfast before I ask any more dumb questions," Raito said finally, not believing him in the slightest.

"I think you do," L agreed amiably, knowing Raito didn't believe him.

Well, Raito could just be wrong for once.