Disclaimer: My birthday may be coming up (and ironically, Halle's is a few days after mine), but I doubt I'll get ownership of Death Note as a present.

Author's Note: Funny thing, Death Note. I usually get attached to one OTP per series, and stay true to that. But I'm kind of a Death Note pairings whore—the only pairing I really don't like is LxMello.

Anyway, I've decided to embrace this uncharacteristically sluttish side of me and have fun with yet another lesser-known/loved pairing, NearxHalle. 'Cause, you know, why not? XD

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Birthday Traditions

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"Near, we've just received word from Gevanni. It seems the—"

Halle paused abruptly, looking away from the manila folder in her arms. Sprawled beside her on the metal grate floor, Near, too, stopped what he'd been doing; he cocked an eyebrow up at her, bemused by her sudden stutter. His stare would unnerve a lesser person, but Lidner simply mirrored his expression: lips pursed in a musing sort of curiosity.

"…are those new?" she then inquired, pointing at the rubber placemat her boss was playing atop of. Surrounding his little body was a large collection of toy trucks and cars, each painted an array of garishly bright colors. Halle recognized them as Transformers, glossy and expensive and not Near's usual treat of choice… while on a case, anyway. When working, he usually played with trinkets that could be stacked (those helped him think) or toys that doubled as demonstrational pieces (finger puppets and Lego people— useful representations of those he held suspicions against).

The child blinked slowly, bland expression returning. "I do not see why it would matter, but yes. They are new."

"There are an awful lot of them," Halle commented, eyes skimming the scene before her. She hadn't been aware there were so many robot toys on the market. "It's strange for you to splurge like that. All at once, I mean." Especially on playthings that were really just… well, playthings.

"Is it?" Near returned lightly, but his tone expressed acknowledgement and affirmation. Lidner couldn't help but think that she saw a faint smile touch his lips, as well—as if he were amused by her observational skills. "Well, I believe such behavior is to be excused on one's birthday."

Halle couldn't keep the shock off of her face. "Birthday?" she repeated stupidly.

His hidden amusement grew, becoming more pronounced. "Yes, my birthday," he drawled, fiddling with one of his new toys. "I am human, you know. I did not just appear from thin air."

The young woman's nose scrunched at the chastisement; she realized that Near was human. It was rather obvious. She just forgot, sometimes— he so rarely acted like others his age, let alone others his species. And it was weird to think about the more human side of a person like him: that he'd had a mother and a father and (perhaps, at one point,) a normal childhood.

"In any case," Near continued, either purposely ignoring or intentionally missing the curious expression now painting his underling's face, "receiving presents on one's birthday is a widely-practiced, almost universally-accepted tradition. I see no reason why my participation in such a practice would seem so bizarre."

Traditionally, you don't have to buy presents for yourself, Halle thought in response, but couldn't bring herself to say—the boy would interpret it as pity, and she knew he had no need for pity. Instead, she allowed a small smile to overtake her lips, looping her arms loosely and jutting out a hip. "I'd have never pinned you as someone who follow traditions," she chuckled, tilting her head and continuing to watch him through her skewed bangs. "So do you also put stock in the whole 'pinch to grow an inch' thing? Or how about 'birthday bumps'?"

Unsurprisingly, Near offered no visual reply. "I doubt I would enjoy those traditions as much," he droned, pushing himself to his knees and grabbing a green Transformer that had previously evaded his grasp. "Despite my desire to add a few extra inches to my admittedly small stature."

The young woman's coy grin widened; she twirled a long strand of hair in a way that would have made Near proud, had he been paying attention. "How about the birthday kiss tradition?"

Her employer hummed nonchalantly, flipping a few of the toy's plastic limbs into place. "It sounds less painful, at least."

Then he paused, back stiffening as if having sensed something. An unexpected closeness. In the next moment, Near had craned his neck backwards; Halle's face was already there to meet it, their noses brushing as her long locks tickled the younger man's chin.

He lifted an eyebrow.

"…would you rather I pinched you?" Lidner asked quietly, her voice equal parts sensual softness and sarcasm. As if instinctually, Near's black lashes lowered, half-hiding his ebony eyes.

"Not particularly."

It was a gentle kiss, fleeting and strangely sweet. His lips were just the slightest bit chapped, and his velvet skin unexpectedly warm. He smelt clean—not antiseptically so, as she had once guessed he might, but like laundry detergent. Halle supposed it made sense, taking his favorite color into account… but it still surprised her. Everything about this moment surprised her. But nothing more so than the faint pressure he applied against her mouth, consensual and patient, as if he had always known this would happen and had been waiting for it. But that wasn't possible, was it?

Then again, it was Near…

The SPK agent pulled away with the faintest of pink tinges, her lips tingling pleasantly even as she leveled her boss a cool, unaffected smirk.

"Well, then," she murmured, straightening and tucking her folder under her arm, "I've got to get back to work. And you need to call Gevanni, he mentioned needing your help with something."

Near nodded once, equally expressionless as his gaze returned to his toys. "Very well."

But as Halle turned away, walking briskly towards the distant exit, his monotonous voice stopped her again.

"There is no such tradition, you know."

Poised in the doorway, Lidner froze. "…excuse me?" she demanded, airily innocent as she twisted her head around, watching Near from over her shoulder. Not that it mattered— he was still entirely enthralled by his new purchases.

"I may not be highly aware of 'popular birthday culture,'" Near told her blankly, rearranging his legs beneath him and sliding into his usual slouch, "but I do know that there is no such tradition as a birthday kiss."

Halle said nothing for a moment, drumming her fingers against the doorframe. He was right, of course—he was always right. But openly admitting that she knew this would mean she'd have to give another reason for her actions, and really, she had none. Nothing she wanted to consciously acknowledge and name, anyway…

She masked this uncertainty with a pretty smile: demure yet taunting. "Maybe not right now. But all traditions have to start somewhere, right?"

Near's thin white hands paused. To the young woman's astonishment, he actually looked up, turning to meet her gaze with his own. For a full minute, they simply stared at one another... Then—slowly, teasingly—his little mouth morphed into its v-shaped grin.

"So when is your birthday, Lidner?"

XXX