She felt the gun at the back of her head just outside her apartment complex. Hal Ridner froze. It served her right for taking the side way, down the alley with the looming dumpsters and rickety fire escapes. She was a woman. She was alone. And even though she was CIA…

She was a target.

"I have no intention of killing you."

Ridner heard the voice as if in a daze. She didn't dare turn around to see whom the voice belonged to. Then finally her brain snapped into action.

Kira? No. Chances that Kira would need to threaten her with a gun before killing her were slim. But it could have been a ploy, a way for Kira to get her to turn around so he could see her face. Ridner forced herself to take a deep breath. Losing her grip would only get her killed faster. No — it wasn't Kira. Near suspected the new L of being Kira. L was miles away, tying up loose ends with the Japanese Taskforce after the death of Deputy Director Yagami.

She needed to focus. The person behind her likely wasn't connected to the Kira case at all. Only a small percentage of highly trained officials knew that she was involved with the SPK. There was a robber behind her, or a wanted criminal, perhaps. Kira couldn't have eliminated them all yet. Anything was possible. Within the next two seconds she might even be dead, and then all her hypothesizing would have gone to waste.

"You're thinking too hard. I said I wasn't going to kill you."

The voice jerked Ridner away from the furious clockwork of her mind. "Th-Then put the gun down," she demanded, working quickly to form some plan of escape.

She didn't expect that the gun's wielder would comply, but he did. Ridner blinked, and slowly, she lowered her hands to her sides.

"Go ahead and turn around now, Halle Bullook. Though it's actually Hal Ridner now, isn't it?"

Ridner fought to keep her features composed. He knew her name. Her real name. This was indeed someone who was familiar with Near and the SPK. Should she do as she was told? She stood there, faltering, and without warning a snap echoed in the hollow tunnel of the alleyway.

The CIA agent whirled around, her hand flying to her jacket where she kept her firearm accessible at all times. She was too slow. Her attacker's gun was pointing between her eyes when she turned.

"That wasn't very smart," came the low snicker.

One vicious, dark eye bored into her from underneath a head of golden hair, while the other was hidden behind a starchy bandage that covered half his face. Leather and chains hugged his slender figure, and he stood casually — as if her resistance meant little to his calculations. Ridner swallowed. His indifference frightened her.

But it was the chocolate that caught her attention once her initial shock had passed. Chocolate, hanging from between his teeth as he grinned at her. He lifted a gloved hand to grasp the shiny wrapper, and with deliberate obviousness, he snapped off another piece. It was the same sound that had rang out before. Ridner felt herself sag with embarrassment.

"Are you always this jumpy?" The gun lowered again.

She thought of running, but her limbs had gone numb. "What do you want?"

His grin expanded, flashing feral teeth at her through his amusement. "Didn't Near tell you who I am?"

Ridner gasped aloud. There was no guesswork left now – the wraith before her knew everything, and he was drawing her out to where she couldn't wriggle free. She wasn't sure that she wanted to play all her cards yet, but the boy looked impatient and she was unmistakably cornered.

"You're Mello," Ridner murmured.

Mello laughed and tucked his weapon away at the waist of his pants. "That's right."

So Mello had traced her. Ridner felt sensation returning to her nerves little by little, and she frowned. Near hadn't yet foreseen this. What would he want her to do in this situation? It was clear that Mello wasn't going to harm her, at least not at present. He wanted something.

It was Ridner's job to figure out what it was.

"Don't look at me like that," Mello said, extending his tongue to lick the jagged edges of his chocolate with his good eye trained on her. "Let's talk inside."

So inside she led him. What choice did she have? Mello followed her without a word, watching her keenly as she fumbled for her keys and unlocked her apartment door with a dry click. His heavy boots clunked over the threshold, and by the time she had flicked on the lights and steadied her breathing, the leather-clad boy had spread himself out on her couch.

His boots found the coffee table, and Ridner resisted the urge to shove his feet off her furniture. He was watching her, following her every movement, and finally the silence became too much for Ridner to stand.

"Tell me what you're doing here," she gritted with as much composure as she could muster.

"I want to see Near."

"Then why didn't you just go straight to headquarters?"

Mello shot her a disgusted sneer. "Don't play stupid with me, Hal."

Ridner shuddered when her first name rolled off his lips. "Ridner," she corrected. "It's Ridner."

For a moment, Mello's one eye widened in surprise. "Is that what Near calls you?" he asked her, looking indignant.

She stalled for as long as his probing gaze would allow. Was he trying to glean some sort of information from her by asking her such a question?

Suddenly Ridner hated herself. She'd been caught off guard in the alley, had a gun pointed at her head, and now Near's rival was sitting on her couch. Mello was known to be impulsive and unpredictable. He'd even had contact with gangs and drug cartels. She didn't know what he was thinking, and therefore she didn't know how she ought to act. All her CIA training seemed irrelevant, and now Mello was biting his chocolate again and fixing her with a look that said he deemed her just as useless as she currently felt.

"Yes," she finally breathed, placing her keys on the counter in her tiny kitchenette. The truth was best under these circumstances. "Near and the other SPK members call me Ridner."

Mello had polished off his chocolate. He crumpled the wrapper and tossed it onto the coffee table beside his feet. Ridner kept her face passive.

"Near hasn't got a shred of human emotion in him," Mello snarled, shifting in his fury. "He thinks people are all just puzzle pieces to be used and discarded. If he calls you Ridner, I'm calling you Hal."

Ridner's brow darkened, and she opened her mouth before she could help herself. "Near doesn't use people half as much as you do, Mello," she said, wishing she could simply clap him in handcuffs and truck him downtown. Mello's face twisted. "When you had the notebook, your mafia was nothing but a group of experiments. Now they're all dead. That makes you lower than Near by a long shot."

Mello was off the coach and lunging at her before she could react. His leather grip found her throat, and once he had seized her, he squeezed.

"Don't compare me to that toy-obsessed child," Mello spat, hissing in her face as he sought to throttle her life away. "I may have used those men, but Kira would have killed them at some point anyway. And who went farther in the investigation? Me or Near? I was the one who had the real notebook in my hands."

Ridner choked. "Had," she managed to stress. But Deputy Director Yagami and the Japanese Taskforce had cornered him in his hideout. That was why Mello now stood before her with bandages over his face. The explosion he'd used to escape must have burned away his flesh. He'd failed in the end, and now Ridner had living proof to use to her advantage.

Her hands flew up to grab Mello's wrists and pry him loose. She escaped the stranglehold with the ease of practice. Ridner tossed the blonde boy to the floor, instinct and reflex guiding her movements. But Mello was nimble and quick. He lashed out, and Ridner went down with him, feeling Mello's elbow jab her in the tangle of thrashing limbs that ensued. At last they stilled. Mello was flat on his back with the female CIA agent sprawled atop him, anchoring him down like a renegade hot air balloon.

Ridner went for the gun that Mello had stowed at his waist. There was a click, and this time the barrel was aimed away from her.

"You killed all but four members of the SPK," she growled, ignoring the strands of platinum hair that fell into her eyes as she held Mello at bay.

Mello's chest heaved. "I left you alive, didn't I?" He grunted painfully and sought to wriggle free of her grip.

Ridner let him up. She had his weapon now, and he couldn't threaten her. Mello stood with a small groan, and his hand found his left shoulder beneath his jacket. It was then that Ridner noticed the bandages that swathed him there as well. She knitted her eyebrows when he inched his sleeve away to shed the restricting garment.

"You blew yourself up like a first class terrorist," Ridner observed wryly.

Mello reached up a hand and removed the bandages that hid his face. "Does it scare you?" he asked.

A crisscross of ridges etched their way over his skin, and Ridner bit back a hiss. Then Mello ridded himself of the gauze that hugged his neck and shoulder to reveal more of the same brutal markings.

"This is what happens when you risk everything," Mello snarled, his tone perilous. "This is endurance, Hal. This is determination."

Ridner opened her mouth as if to respond, but thought better of it. She lowered the gun and placed it carefully on the counter beside her. Mello collapsed back onto the couch and hid his face in one gloved hand.

"I screwed up," he growled. "But I'm not done yet." His eyes burned, and Hal Ridner took a step back.

"You're going to help me," Mello continued. "Near thinks he knows everything, but I'm going to catch Kira first and avenge L."

"What are you going to do?" Ridner asked him.

Mello's face twisted into a crazed, toothy grin. "This country's justice system is as good as worthless right now. Near knows that. He's going to think of dissolving the SPK."

Ridner's eyes flew wide. "Di-Dissolving the SPK? Why would he do that?"

Mello fished a new bar of chocolate from the pocket of his discarded jacket. The silver wrapper crinkled, and he bit down sharply. "He'll do it to avoid trouble from the US government, which is now siding with Kira. And he'll do it to make himself more accessible to me."

"Why to you?"

Mello looked at her as if her stupidity pained him. "Near can predict what I'm going to do. I want his information. And he'll give it to me, because he knows I've got different information that he doesn't yet. We'll trade."

Ridner's suspicions peaked. If what Near had told the SPK was true, Near and Mello had grown up as orphans at Wammy's House, training to become the next L. The two child prodigies had never gotten along, and Mello had instigated Near at every opportunity. Mello had always been second, and he resented Near because of Near's constant ability to emerge on top.

"That doesn't make sense," Ridner started. "You and Near are rivals. Why would you two exchange information?"

Mello rose from the couch and tucked one hand casually into the pocket of his tight leather pants, smirking at her. "You should keep your nose out of things that you don't understand, Hal." He crossed the space between them and stopped when he was close enough for her to see the flecks of chocolate at the corners of his mouth.

"You're reckless, Mello," she said, straining to turn her face away as he pulled her forward by her collar. Her features crinkled in distaste.

"Say what you want," he responded, viciously. "But I'm going to catch Kira the way that I see fit."

Ridner didn't dare flinch. They were standing too close, and Mello smelled of sweat and gunpowder, carrying the overbearing scent of sweet chocolate. He stepped away to give her breathing room.

"I'll contact you again," he told her. "And if you tell Near, you're finished."

Ridner swallowed, but nodded obediently. What other choice did she have? This move was nothing that Near had anticipated, at least not yet. She'd have to sort through this on her own, make her own judgment calls. Not long ago, Mello had voluntarily blasted himself apart to avoid playing by the rules. The CIA agent now had reason to suspect that Mello had other plans equally as insane in his faulty repertoire.

Mello motioned for his gun, and Ridner handed it to him. Without a word, he swaggered out of her apartment. Ridner let out a sigh and immediately began to seek a solution.

A/N: So you'll have some forewarning, this story is going to take me ages to update. (It's kind of on my backburner.) Also, my beta whom I hearts is MIA, so she hasn't edited this yet. I went ahead and posted it anyway, because I'm eager for some feedback on the idea.

There were so many hints in the manga about connections Mello and Hal might have had, so I wanted to delve into that while following the canon plotline. Also, we don't know enough about Ridner. I had some trouble figuring out whether I should use "Ridner" or "Lidner" to refer to her, but finally the former won out. It sounds stronger to me, and she's a strong woman. I know the US translation of Death Note uses "Lidner," and that's what I'm going by for most other references, but… meh. If my choice annoys anyone terribly, I apologize.

Please look forward to the rest of the story, even if it does take me a while!