"I don't want to do it!" Aizawa hissed in a tense whisper. "You do it!"

"No way!" Matsuda whispered back, his hand moving outward in a sweeping motion as he shook his head.

The two agents stared stubbornly at one another, then turned their gaze to Ukita.

"Don't look at me!" Ukita whispered in a panic, putting both hands up defensively.

"Noses!" Matsuda quickly brought his finger to his nose.

"What??" Aizawa scowled at the younger agent with a great deal of impatience.

"Noses!" Mastuda repeated in a forceful whisper. "Whoever touches their nose last has to do it!"

Instantly and simultaneously, Aizawa and Ukita brought their index fingers to the tips of their noses. The three just stood, looking among one another... Then slowly, they all turned to Agent Mogi, who was reading a report.

Mogi looked up.

"...what?" he asked obliviously.

"You have to do it!" Matsuda declared in a hushed tone, pointing at the burly man.

"Do what?" Mogi asked rather loudly.

"Shh!" the other three agents shushed him.

Aizawa pointed to the other side of the room.

"You have to wake up Ryuzaki!"

"WHAT??"

"SHHH!!"

Mogi looked with wide eyes over to where L was slumped in his computer chair. One knee was bent up as usual, but the other foot was on the floor. Bean was curled up on his papa's lap and sound asleep against his chest, and L's hand rested on his son's back as his raven-haired head lay flopped at an odd angle. His shadowed eyes were closed, and the little Bean moved ever so slightly up and down with L's breathing.

Mogi gulped.

"W-why do I have to do it?" he asked, whispering now.

The other three agents all dramatically gestured to the fingers that still rested on their noses.

Mogi opened his mouth to protest but then sighed in defeat. He stood to his feet and moved quietly over toward the sleeping detective. Partway there, he glanced back at his comrades. They all prodded him on with silent forward hand gestures. Mogi groaned as he turned back around and continued until he stood at L's side. He gulped again. Then, slowly, he reached out and tapped the detective's shoulder.

"Uh... R-Ryuzaki?" he spoke in a low tone.

"Yes?" L responded at normal volume.

Mogi jumped.

"What is it?" L turned opened his wide, grey eyes and turned his head to look up at the brawny agent.

Bean just slept on, undisturbed.

The other three agents approached cautiously.

"You... you were awake?" Matsuda asked incredulously.

"Yes." L tipped his head to look down at his son, then back up to the Task Force. "For the last several minutes, at least. I find that I can learn quite a lot when people think I am sleeping."

The four agents were a bit taken aback. They all looked at one another dumbly.

"Well?" L asked, getting annoyed now. "What is it?"

Instinctively, four pairs of eyes moved to the sleeping little boy at the sound of L's slightly raised tone. But Bean's eyes stayed closed, his lips slightly parted and his sleep uninterrupted. One small hand held a fistful of white, cotton fabric.

"Uh..." Aizawa began. "...the entrance exams at Toho begin in about thirty minutes."

L glanced up at the wall clock. Light Yagami would be participating in the examination, and it had been decided that L would as well, as a means of meeting the young suspect face-to-face.

"Right. Thank you." L turned his head so that his mouth was pressed gently against the top of Bean's hooded head. "Hey..." he said softly, patting his son's back. "We have to go now."

"Ryuzaki," Matsuda spoke up gently. "Uh... he could stay here! You know, if you wanted to let him sleep-"

L shot the young agent a look that shut his mouth immediately.

"Right..." Matsuda mumbled, lifting his shoulders and rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. "...s-sorry."

"Hey." L jostled Bean a little more, and the boy began to stir. His sleepy little eyes fluttered open, and he lifted long, slender fingers to rub them as he yawned.

"Hi, Papa..."

"Hi, Bean. Go brush your teeth," L told him.

Bean nodded and complied, but not before wrapping his arms around L's neck for a good morning hug.

**********

"Watari?" Bennett's small voice bounced a little bit with his steps, his gaze on his feet.

"Hm?" The old Englishman looked down at the small, hooded figure that held his hand. The two were sharing an outing in Tokyo while the Toho entrance exams were going on.

"Um..." The little boy's black bangs tumbled over his slim, cobalt eyes as he hopped to avoid stepping on a crack in the sidewalk, and he lifted spidery, little fingers to brush them aside. "...are you Papa's papa?"

The old man's white mustache twitched in amusement. "No," he replied gently. "Your papa never knew his parents."

"Oh."

Hop

"Then... who did he live with before you?" Bennett's little face perked up at the sound of a street musician up ahead.

"Well..." Watari cleared his throat. "He lived in foster care, and then he came to live with me at Wammy's House. Remember, you were in foster care for a few weeks before coming to live with Papa and me?"

Bennett's slender eyes looked down again. He nodded, some of his messy, black hair falling forward from under his cherry red hood. He didn't like remembering those days. Not that his foster family hadn't been kind to him- quite the contrary. They had been a very nice couple with a warm and welcoming home. But, they had been naively uneducated on children with autism, and some of Bennett's quirky and withdrawn behaviors had been sadly misinterpreted as him simply being a difficult and stubborn child. In addition, there had been three other foster kids in the house at the same time, and in short, the small Bean had never been so wrought with anxiety or insecurity. Even now, his left hand ticked a little inside his hoodie pocket at the memory of the dark days following that grey and rainy morning when everything had changed.

Had his papa maybe felt scared too, living with strangers who didn't fully understand him? Had he shrunk back in panic attacks with his back pressed into a corner, crying uncontrollably while he covered his ears and pulled at his hair? Had he, too, been discovered on more than one morning wrapped tightly in a blanket on the floor underneath his bed?

Bennett's gaze remained downcast as he wondered these things. He winced at the sharp little spasm in his left hand, and he made a tight fist inside his hoodie pocket before loosening his fingers and shaking them a bit.

"Watari?"

"Hm?"

Bennett tilted his head up to look at the tall, white-haired man in the suit and trench coat beside him. His small hand tightened its hold on Watari's.

"I'm glad you took care of Papa," he said simply. "That was a really good thing."

The old man stopped walking, Bean with him. The two stood on the city sidewalk, holding hands and looking at one another, each with their other hand pocketed. Bean's mouth rounded into a little smile, a look of grateful understanding far beyond his years glinting in his bright blue eyes.

Watari felt a softness settle in his heart as his own eyes creased into a warm and devoted smile. He let go of Bean's hand, and the five-year-old moved in to wrap his long, little arms around the old man's legs. Watari's snowy mustache twitched fondly as he returned the hug, and his hand patted the back of the soft, red hoodie.

And then Bean let go again, perking once more at some stringed melody coming from the curb up ahead. He tugged childishly on Watari's sleeve with an eager grin and pulled him onward, not forgetting to diligently hop over the break in the sidewalk.