With a deep breath, Naomi closed the last of her clothes drawers.  She had been dreading this moment.  At least as long as there were things to be unpacked, there was something for her to concentrate on.  But now, everything was out of the suitcases and put away where it belonged.

She stood to her feet and put her hands on her hips.  She looked around, desperately trying to think of what to do next, lest she melt into a sorry pool of self-pity.

Strongly feeling the need to get out of the apartment and clear her head, she decided to just take her motorcycle out for a drive. The fresh air would surely do her some good.

She pulled on her old leather jacket, her new one having been sent to the cleaners after the gruesome events of the previous night. A pain twisted in her stomach, though, as thinking of the jacket made her think of the one who had gifted it to her.

But she couldn't think that way anymore.  She was stupid enough to have thought that way in the first place.

Grabbing her keys and her purse, she opened her front door to leave.

But she stopped abruptly with a sharp intake of breath.

L stood there, shoulders hunched and one hand behind his back. The other hand was raised in a fist, like he had just been about to knock. His eyes widened, startled at the door opening.

A tense awkwardness hung between them. Naomi took a deep breath.

"Do you need something?" she asked calmly.

Slowly, L lowered his hand. He didn't answer. He just looked at her.

Naomi's way of speaking to him had returned to the way it was when she had first begun working for him. No candid "Hi!" and no cheerful, playful smile. Just a polite, professional tone.

"I was just going out, but if you need me, I can wait."

She stood with one hand casually holding the handle of her purse over her shoulder, and the other down by her side.

Slowly, he brought his hand out from behind his back.  Pinched between his thumb and index finger was a long, wooden skewer and stacked on it was a line of bright red strawberries.  He extended it out to her, his eyes never leaving hers.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly.

Naomi looked down at the strawberry kebob and then back up at L.  She wasn't sure how to respond.

He moved his arm up and down slightly, wanting her to accept his offering. 

Meeting his gaze with an aching heart, she lifted a hand and took the skewer.  His hand immediately retreated to his pocket.

"Well... thank you," she said, a little uneasily. 

"I know you like them."  He cracked his toes into the carpet.

Naomi nodded, forcing a small smile.  "Yes, I do."

L just kept looking at her. 

"Um..."  Stiffly, she gestured toward him. "How's your shoulder?"

"It hurts," he said plainly.

Naomi nodded and swallowed.

Silence.

She looked around awkwardly, twirling the skewer back and forth with the fingers of both hands.  "Soo..."

"Can I come in?"  He spoke abruptly.

Naomi looked up at him, surprised.

"I have the final case report." He held up a USB drive.

"Oh.  Um, sure."  She stepped back and to the side.  "Come on in."

He nodded, as if to say "thank you," and stepped inside her apartment.  Naomi realized that in the whole year they had worked together, L had never once been in one of her apartments.  She suddenly felt very self-conscious.

She gestured toward the couch.  "Um, please have a seat.  I can make coffee... or tea?"

L shrugged.  "Either is fine."  He walked over to the couch but he didn't sit down.  He just turned and looked at her with his back curved and his hands in his pockets.

Naomi returned her coat and purse to the closet and moved to the kitchen.  She set the strawberry skewer down on a plate.

"So," she called to him, willing her voice to sound steadier than her pounding heart.  "The case is finally closed for good then?"

"Yes.  For good this time," L answered from the living room. 

Naomi put the water in the kettle and on the stove, thankful for something to do with her hands.

L just watched her moving about the kitchen.  His toes fidgeted with the hem of his jeans.

Naomi bustled around the little kitchen, opening and closing cupboards and measuring tea leaves.  She moved to collect two mugs and turned to place them on the counter.  But she halted, nearly bumping into L.

She hadn't heard him walk over to her.

She looked up at him, holding the mugs in both hands.

L just stood there.  Like he had something to say, but he just couldn't find the words.  His gaze moved ever so slightly from her face to the little red slash on her neck and his eyes flickered briefly with concern. He tipped his head and lifted his finger gently to her chin.

Naomi didn't stiffen the way she had months before, when he had studied her injured jawline in a similar manner. She just looked at him quizzically, sensing a change in him as he so closely examined the trivial cut on her neck.

Something had shifted. She could feel it as she looked at him. He wasn't angry now. He seemed... different, somehow.

All at once, his eyes met hers.  His face was so close.  Slowly, he let go of her chin and returned his hand to his pocket. But he didn't step back. He just stood looking at her, searching her face with those wide, grey eyes, his closeness quickening Naomi's heartbeat.

The all-too familiar butterfly awoke inside her, but she stubbornly suppressed it. The past 24 hours had been a roller coaster of emotions and she wasn't sure she could handle much more right now.

She swallowed hard.  "I- I forgot the sugar," she murmured.  And she brushed past him, setting the mugs down and opening another cupboard.

L stood with his back curved in the middle of the kitchen, watching her.  The kettle boiled and Naomi moved with unnecessary urgency to get it.  She lifted it from the hot surface and moved to pour the water over the tea leaves.

As she turned to replace the kettle on the stove top, L reached out and set his hand on the counter, blocking her path with his arm.

"Naomi..."

She pursed her lips together.  "L, this is hot.  I need to-"

He took the kettle from her, set it on the stove behind him, and turned to face her again.

Naomi's hands fidgeted with each other.

L looked at her steadily.  "You are more," he said quietly.

Naomi just looked down.

He dropped his gaze too and sighed heavily, lifting thin shoulders.  "I'm so... I'm so bad at this, Naomi."  His shoulders dropped and he looked at her again.  "But I understand now.  You are... much more than just an agent to me." 

Naomi swallowed the lump in and her gaze moved to his shoulder.  The corner of a taped bandage peeked out from the rounded collar of his t-shirt. The horrors of last night strangely and suddenly seemed so distant. Almost like all of it had just been a bad dream.

But it hadn't. Both of them had stared into the grisly face of death... and both of them had experienced the painful nearness of sudden loss.

She looked at him again.  "L, you don't have to-"

"I mean it."

She lifted her chin stubbornly. "Then why did you say that I wasn't?"  Then she scrunched her eyes and shook her head.  "No- nevermind.  Don't answer that.  I just- I don't want to talk about this.  Please."

L opened his mouth to say something and then shut it again.  "Okay," he said finally.

Naomi tapped her thumbs together, her hands clasped in front of her. "Right, so... my laptop is in the living room. Use as much sugar as you want." She gestured toward the sugar bowl, picked up her tea, and moved around him toward the couch.

L stood for a moment, then lifted the sugar bowl halfheartedly, pouring a generous amount into his mug of tea.  He listlessly stirred the steaming liquid, now thick with sugar, the metal spoon clinking the sides of the ceramic mug.  Then, with one hand pocketed, he picked it up and headed into the living room, dragging his bare feet.

Naomi was seated on the couch, leaning forward with her laptop open on the coffee table.

L stepped backwards onto the couch and brought his knees up to his chest, holding his tea atop them.  He pulled the USB drive from his pocket and handed it to Naomi. She plugged it in and opened it.

As he had said before, it was the final police report on The Bishop Case.

"Gerard Leveque," L began with a sigh, "returned from covert military duty at sea one year following his wife's fatal accident.  While he was away, he had no contact with the outside world, due to the nature of his mission.  When he returned and discovered what had happened, he drove his car into the river to stage a suicide.  Since then, he has been hiding out in the catacombs beneath the city.  His brother-in-law, Jasper Broussard, acted as his eyes on the surface and as his inside man at the police department."

Naomi nodded as she browsed the files detailing Gerard's interrogation.

L watched her as she read, his thumb resting on his bottom lip. 

"How did you know?" he asked after a bit.

Naomi glanced at him.  "About Gerard?  Oh, Clarisse Broussard told me someone had been leaving roses at Rosella's grave... and I also remembered that Gerard's body was never found."  She shrugged.  "I just... put two and two together."

L nodded, looking at her intently.  "I'm impressed," he murmured.

Naomi squirmed a bit, feeling his eyes on her.  "So, did they ever learn anything about the tripod?"

"Yes."  L pointed to a folder on the computer screen.  "Click on that."

Naomi clicked on it and several images appeared. They were scans of printed photos of all of The Bishop's victims.

"His trophies," Naomi muttered. "That's just sick."

L pointed to the screen again. "Now go back... and click on that image."

Naomi did and a scan of a crumpled, poor-quality, printed photo appeared. It was of Rosella Leveque's body at her funeral. Though covered by makeup, the slash mark from the windshield's shattered glass was visible along and she was holding a rosary with a wooden crucifix on the end. Her casket was surrounded by lit candles.

"This photo was in Gerard Leveque's pocket," L said around the thumb in his mouth. "Jasper took it with his cell phone at his sister's funeral. When he showed it to Gerard, they came up with their plan for revenge together. They truly believed that she was robbed of justice and that doing what they did would make things right."

"That's a pretty messed up view of justice," Naomi said softly.

L nodded. "Yes."

Naomi sighed as she removed the USB drive and returned it to L. She shut the laptop and put it back on the shelf under the coffee table.

"I've never been so happy to close a case," she commented, tucking her leg under her and relaxing into the couch cushions with her mug of tea in both hands.

"Yes, I think I may have to agree with you there," L muttered.

Silence hung between them.

Then, softly, L spoke.

"Naomi?"

"Hmm?"

He gave her a long look.  "I need you to give me your word..." he said slowly. His jaw was set firmly but his eyes were pleading. "...don't ever scare me like that again. Please."

Naomi's chest tightened.  She met his gaze and swallowed once, and then again.  She blinked back tears that had suddenly settled in the corners of her eyes and nodded with feeling.

A look of relief passed over his face. 

It was quiet again for a moment before Naomi spoke.

"I really am so, so sorry," she said, her voice in a whisper.

He nodded. "I know.  I am too."

Silence again.

Both of them took a sip of their tea, neither knowing what to say next.

This time, it was L who broke the silence.

"Watari told me what you did," he said.  "How you stayed with me. In the trailer... and all night."

Naomi didn't respond.  She traced the edge of her mug with her finger.

"Thank you," he said, not taking his eyes off her.

She swallowed again and nodded, not trusting her voice at the moment.

L sighed loudly.  He reached with his long arm to set his tea on the coffee table and shifted, setting one foot on the ground and resting his forearm on the knee that was still bent up.  He turned his shoulders to face her.

Naomi looked at him strangely.  He never sat like that.

His dark, shadowed eyes look at her with intensity and depth.  For some reason, she felt like she couldn't look away even if she tried.  She clutched her tea in both hands and waited for him to speak.

"Can I..." he began hesitantly, "...take you to dinner?  Or..."  He shrugged.  "...something?"

Naomi blinked her eyes several times.  "What... why?  I mean..."  She shook her head to restore clarity.  "Um..."

L waited, sitting casually with one knee up.

Naomi decided her question had been fair.  She looked at him evenly and asked again.  "Why do you want to take me to dinner?"

L was using his thumbs to crack his knuckles on the same hand.  "Because... I want to," he said simply.

"Oh."  Naomi looked down into her tea.  That hadn't answered her question.

She tried again.

Clearing , she asked bluntly, "Are you... asking me out?"

L looked confused.  "Is this not how you do it?"

Naomi looked away in an attempt to hide her frustration.  Mere hours ago, she had melted down in front of him, declaring her feelings as if in neon lights, and he had responded with nothing but dismissive indifference.  And now here he was, asking her to dinner with no indication whatsoever of what exactly he meant by it.

True, he had apologized and told her she was "more."  But that could mean any number of things.  Was it "more" as in, "I like hanging out with you outside of work?"  Or "more" in the way she had felt... as in more than friends?

Regardless, he was still waiting for an answer.  She looked back up at him again and forced a wobbly smile.  Her inner defenses were sending little warning signals to not let herself get hurt again.

Nonetheless, she replied, "Sure."

L's mouth rounded into a little smile.  "Okay, well... I've never done this before," he confessed, shrugging. "Where do you want to go?"

"Wait... we're going right now??"

"Oh, would you rather go tomorrow?"

Naomi's head was spinning.  So much was happening.  Then again, L was not exactly one to be limited by social constructs.  Thinking about it, she supposed now was as good a time as any.

"Well, um... I am pretty hungry."  Naomi said, lifting her shoulders.  "I guess we can go now."

L nodded. "Alright."  

They stood from the couch and, after putting on shoes, they moved together into the elevator.

As L and Naomi stepped outside into the chilly air, French music was heard coming from some place down the street. A striped awning adorned the front of a little bistro and strings of lights hung from the trees in front of it.

"Do you want to go there?" Naomi suggested, looking up at him and pointing.

L shrugged. "Okay."

They walked together, her hands clutching her purse and his shoved in his pockets. His large, sleep-deprived eyes stared at the ground as his feet shuffled along the sidewalk.

They reached the entrance and stepped inside the warm, little French restaurant. It smelled like fresh-baked bread and homemade soup.

They were led to a booth in the back of the large room. L, stoic in his ways despite his surroundings, sat with his knees brought up to his chest like always.

He folded his arms atop his knees. "So, uh... what do you do on a date?"

Naomi looked up.  He hadn't called it a "date" before.  But she shook it off and shrugged in answer to his question. "This," she said. "You get food and talk... spend time together."

"We do that all the time," L said, unimpressed.

Naomi laughed lightly.  As brilliant as he was, he could be pretty clueless. "Okay, you're right. But a date..." She stopped.

L just looked at her curiously, waiting for her to go on.

She played self-consciously with the corner of the menu. Finally, she shrugged.  "I don't know," she said softly.  "It's just... different."

L picked up the dessert menu by its corner, using only his thumb and index finger, and started looking over it.

"Different how?" he asked.

Naomi felt cornered.  "It just... it just is."

That sounded ridiculous and she knew it.

L continued studying the desserts.  Naomi couldn't help but notice that he was still paler than usual.  As he set down the menu, she saw him wince and put a hand to his shoulder.

"You know, most people would be in bed resting right now," she chided.  "Not, you know... out on a date."

L shrugged, one hand resting on his shoulder.  "It doesn't matter where I am, it still hurts."

The terrible image of him bleeding out in the trailer suddenly flashed in Naomi's memory.

How on earth had that only been last night?

The paramedics fighting to save him in the elevator... the sickening feeling of watching them disappear with L's limp and lifeless body into the apartment and not knowing if he would come back out alive...

That had all been real.  And only a day ago.

And now, here he was, on a date with her apparently, nonchalantly trying to decide what kind of sweets to order from the café menu.  All of it felt so surreal.

L caught her looking at him.  His teeth were clamped down on his thumb.  "What?"

Naomi looked down, her heart pounding.  "Last night was awful," she managed to say quietly.

L nodded.  "Yes.  It was."

She looked up at him again, unable to hide the tears that unwillingly brimmed in the corners of her eyes.  "You almost died," she said in a whisper, her voice breaking.

L lowered his hand to rest on his knee.  "So did you."

Naomi nodded. 

They looked at each other for a long moment, saying what words never could.

Feeling on the edge of another meltdown, Naomi raised her eyes to the ceiling and blinked several times, trying to get her wobbly emotions under control.  "Ughh... I'm sorry," she said with a weepy, shaky voice.  "This isn't like me!  I'm just... such a mess right now."  She sniffed and brushed at her face, annoyed at herself for crying again in front of L.

"It's okay," he said softly.  He was watching her closely, wanting to help her but not knowing how to.

Naomi shook her head and sniffed again.

"Naomi."  L leaned forward and looked at her intently.  "Look at me.  I'm here.  I'm fine."

She met his gaze and nodded, drying her tears with her thumbs.  Then, looking upward, she inhaled deeply and exhaled into a smile.  "Well," she breathed, clearing , "I'm really glad you decided to stick around."  She shot him a playful look, albeit with red, puffy eyes.

The corner of L's mouth lifted into a grin.

That was the Naomi he knew.

And as the evening passed, the tension between them slowly disappeared.  He ordered coffee and cake and she ordered soup and they talked easily, just as they always had.

At last, they stood to leave and, as they stepped out into the cool, night air, Naomi felt a strange knot in her stomach that still wanted to know what exactly was going on in that head of his. 

She decided that she wasn't going to wonder any longer.

"Hey."  She stopped walking and turned to face him.

"Hmm?"  He turned to face her too.

She sighed.  "What is this?" she asked softly.

L lifted his shoulders and looked sideways.  "What is what?"

Naomi gestured back and forth between them.  "This.  Us.  On a date.  I mean..." She looked down again.  "I guess... I don't want to assume or wonder anymore.  I want to know..."  She swallowed and took a deep breath, meeting his eyes.  "I just... need to know for sure how you feel about me," she said plainly.

There.  She said it.  Never in a million years would she have said that to a guy on a first date.  But this wasn't just a guy.  This was L.  And he was as straightforward as they come.

Not at all taken aback, he nodded slowly.  "Fair enough..." he said, his voice low.  He looked down at the sidewalk and scuffed at it with the toe of his sneaker.

The strings of round, white light bulbs hung from the bare, winter branches of the trees and the night sky glittered above them.

Naomi waited for what seemed like a long time. 

Finally, his eyes lifted again.  He stood with his shoulders bent and his hands in the pockets of his blue jeans as he looked at her searchingly through strands of jet-black hair.

He lifted his shoulders and shook his head, as if to express a loss for any other words.

"I love you," he said.

Plain and simple.

Naomi's eyes widened in shock.  "Wait.  You what?"

L looked at her straight in the eyes. "I love you," he repeated softly.  "That's how I feel about you."

Naomi lifted both hands so that her fingers came together at the bridge of her nose. She closed her eyes and willed herself to speak slowly and clearly and not like the complete mess that she felt like at the moment.

"Okay, that is... a big thing to say to someone." 

"I know," L said quietly.

Naomi shook her head.  "I'm not sure that you do," she said, completely flustered.  "You don't just... say that on the first date!  It's just- look."  She took a deep breath as she straightened her shoulders and held up both palms. "I think I'm starting to understand... And I think maybe you're using the wrong word..." She smiled, feeling the flush of color in her cheeks.  "I think," she went on softly, "that you feel something for me."  She looked down and added, "I know I do for you."

Then, she reached out and took his hand in her much smaller one, meeting his eyes with her own as she continued.

"But, love, it... it takes more time. And this is all so fast.  I mean, it's been less than a day."  She shook her head.  "Don't you see?"

L nodded as he looked down at their joined hands.  His thumb moved gently back and forth. "I do see," he said. He was quiet for a moment before lifting his gaze again.  "But you're wrong, Naomi.  It's been three years."

Naomi's heart did a flip.

"Three years ago," L went on, a smile playing on the edges of his lips, "you kicked me down a flight of stairs..."

Naomi grinned.

"...a year ago, you became my agent and, over the months we spent together, you became my friend."  His words were spoken simply and with confidence.

Naomi listened, hanging onto every word.

He stepped forward then, closing the gap between them.  "It did take time, Naomi. And I don't ever choose my words lightly."  He searched her face, his dark eyes relaying more than his words ever could.  "I love you," he said once more.

Naomi swallowed.  This was so much, so fast.  She looked at him through glistening eyes.

"I- I don't know what to say to that," she said softly.  She lifted a hand to brush at her cheek.  "It's just... well, I need to think... to process this."  She felt so overwhelmed.

L nodded.  "I understand," he said.

And she knew that he did.

They turned to walk back to the apartment building, his long fingers still closed around her hand.