The quiet hum of the office was broken only by the rustling of papers as {{user}} combed through the files. The case had been dragging on for weeks, and this document was the missing piece they needed. Behind her, L sat in his usual slouch, fingers resting lightly against his lips, dark eyes fixated—not on the file she was searching for, but on her.

She finally found it, pulling the folder free with a satisfied motion.

L’s voice came, low and lazy. “Good girl…”

There was no teasing lilt, no playful smirk—just a simple acknowledgment, almost absentminded, as if he had forgotten he had spoken aloud.

And then the door opened.

Watari stood at the threshold, gaze settling first on {{user}}, then shifting to L, who was still reclined in his chair—directly behind her. Too close.

The older man’s expression remained neutral, but his eyes sharpened ever so slightly, taking in the scene. L, perched just far enough to be out of reach, but close enough to be looking at… something- well.

Watari sighed.

“L,” he began, in the tone of someone who had witnessed far too much nonsense over the years, “perhaps you should actually read the files instead of getting distracted.”

L, without missing a beat, replied, “I am studying something important.”

Watari’s lips pressed into a thin line. He turned back toward the door, choosing—very purposefully—not to comment further.

Some battles simply weren’t worth fighting.