Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note. (Or Star Trek).

A/N: This one has been sitting around in My Documents for a very long time. It was supposed to be the start of a horror fic... which obviously didn't happen. XD

L liked lots of things. Cake, of course. Being barefoot, or, more specifically, without socks. Sweets in general. Justice. Watari.

But there was only one thing he had ever loved.

Or, more accurately, one person.

L tried his best not to think about the boy sitting next to him, but as usual, when it came to Light, he was completely unable to control his brain. He was the only thing that could do this to him, and to put it bluntly, it pissed him off. What was so desirable about the man that made him often unable to see straight when he caught a glimpse of that smile? And why- for the love of all things frosted- did his fake smile attract him even more?

But that was ridiculous. L always knew the answer. He liked it because he, L, seemed to be the only one that could see through it.

Part of it, he supposed, was that he had, at this point, spent more than two consecutive months with him. It was more time than he'd ever spent with another person, all mashed together.

And then, of course, there was the blindingly obvious 'Light-kun is perfect in every way' factor.

No, L wasn't delusional. He didn't mean 'perfect' the way Misa meant it. Light was beyond intelligent, impossibly beautiful, and charismatic enough to leave Captain Kirk wondering at his sexuality.

Although there was that Spock/Kirk fandom.

Regardless, those were the things that L knew Misa loved. And she did love him.

She just didn't GET him.

Light was the most deceptively twisted person to walk the Earth, and, to L, he couldn't have been more beautiful. It's hard to hate someone you know you should hate when you love them for all the wrong reasons.

L sighed to himself and popped a sugar cube between his lips, enjoying the familiar grainy feeling of the dissolving particles. He added two more for good measure, wondering briefly if there was a way to mainline the stuff without getting track marks like the addict he was. Watari would surely notice track marks, which wouldn't do at all.

"Ryuuzaki..." Light said, compassion dripping from his every word as he took L's wrist. With a soft touch of long fingers, he slid his shirtsleeve up to his elbow and gently turned his arm. His eyes went wide and he looked up to meet Ryuuzaki's, who looked back at him unflinchingly. "Ryuuzaki... these track marks... did you do this to yourself?"

L looked away dramatically. "Yes, Light-kun."

Light's eyes immediately began filling with tears and he clutched L's wrist tighter, but not enough to cause pain. "Ryuuzaki... don't do this..." he mumbled, running his finger over the little holes that riddled the detective's arm. "I... we can get you help... just please, don't..."

Crying now, he brought his lips to L's bared skin and placed a feather's kiss on the nearest small puncture...

"Ryuuzaki, what do you think of these statistics?"

L was jolted out of his fantasy by the very man he had been fantasizing about. Not that he had been fantasizing, and certainly not about Light.

Fantasizing?

Nonsense.