Breakdown

By: Melissa

Chapter Four

Standard Disclaimers Apply

Author's Note: This chapter is dedicated to Spirit like most of my fics. But she'll see why when she gets to the end. ;) Oh yeah, and this new ffnet is spiffy looking, but damn. Now I have to re-learn how to upload shit!

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Hacking into the government's computers and bypassing all their firewalls to get an access code to control a hidden missile in some dessert near California ended up being easier than Matt thought. He was taking his time to make sure he made no mistakes, sure, but he felt like his custom made bugs would get passed all the firewalls without alerting anyone related to the United State's government that anything was wrong by the end of the week. Once that was done, all he had to do was find the file with the code and change it. ...then there was the matter of locking the new code so no one could access it or change it back, and then set up Jack's laptop so he could control the missile from any base Mello's mafia chose to reside in. 'I wonder if Mello wants me to make the new path for the missile or if he wants Jack to do it...' Matt thought idly as he typed on his laptop, checking his email. His actual computer was working it's hard drive off trying to get passed government firewalls, after all.

Linda had sent him a couple angry emails expressing concern for his well being and hate for not calling her back the past seven times she tried reaching him. He replied to them, answering the majority of her questions with the truth, but avoiding all her questions and comments about Mello entirely. The last thing he wanted was for Roger to somehow learn about what Mello had been up to since Wammy's House had last seen him.

Lying (well it wasn't quite lying when you ignored the questions you'd have to lie about, right?) to a childhood friend made Matt feel rather dirty, but he decided it was something he'd have to get over fast. He had a feeling that if he stuck with Mello, he'd only feel grimier and grimier by the time this thing was over.

Matt rolled his eyes as the area near his crotch began vibrating. Uncrossing his legs and pulling his cell phone out of his pocket, the redhead checked his recently acquired text.

'Guys going 2 bar. Wanna cum?'

The redhead almost commented on Mello's laziness when it came to spelling and grammar when he texted, and of course the implications of what he just technically asked, but decided he'd let it go for now. Especially since a beer sounded good right around now, and he didn't want the blond to uninvite him. Matt could only imagine how scary it must be for normal people to just go to a bar for shits and giggles and then see the fucking mafia just happened to be chilling there at that exact same time. 'All the guys?' was his response.

'No just some. Rod, Glen, and Rashual.'

'Oh, he can spell out "Rashual" but not "come".' Matt rolled his eyes. Glen and Rashual were Rod's right hand men, so (along with Mello) they accompanied the big man everywhere. Matt only had the pleasure of seeing those two once, and only because he tailed Mello out of sheer boredom when the blond left the hotel room one time. They were big, burly, and scary. And if Matt could humbly add his opinion to the matter, ugly as fuck to boot.

'Fine, I'll come.' Matt replied, more so for the drink he planned on having when he got there than anything else. And to properly spell the word 'come' via text message just to show that he was less lazy than Mello when he felt like it.

'Good. I'll send you directions.'

Matt wondered as Mello sent him the address of the bar he was supposed to meet him at if Mello was planning on actually speaking to him once he arrived. That would mean being introduced to Rod Ross, the big boss of Mello's shady little group. Matt wasn't so sure he was fond of this plan, but decided whatever. Mello wouldn't have his ogre of a boss kill him off yet. He still wasn't one hundred percent done with securing the missile for them, after all. And the blond had claimed it was a crucial part of his scheme.

Above all else, the curiosity that came with most child geniuses made Matt want to see the puppet to Mello's puppeteer.

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As expected, the bar was a very nice joint. It was spacious, somewhat quiet with soft music playing in the background, and so far no thugs in sight. Matt figured they probably weren't there yet, if that was the case. Part of him was relieved. He really wasn't in the mood to be on the opposite end of this rumored Rod Ross' gun. Especially with how possessive the man was of Mello. 'Well, whatever...' Matt mentally added. 'He wouldn't off someone Mello likes if that's the case. I'm safe. ...probably. ...not. Ugh. Well, no... Mello wouldn't suggest me coming here if he thought I would be in danger. Unless he's mad at me. But I didn't do anything!'

Matt stood shock still for a moment. 'But since when did Mello need a reason?' Matt felt like he was going to puke. Luckily, a distraction came in the form of some other bar-dwellers. Two guys with dark hair were sitting across from each other in a booth near the window. Suddenly, the taller of the two crawled under the table and popped up on the shorter's side of the booth. The taller began to, from what Matt could gather from the distance he was at, grope the shorter one.

"Knock it off, you pervert." he heard the shorter one with spiky black hair say, trying to push the slightly taller man away from him.

"No way, not when you're turning red like that!"

"Ugh, I hate you. So fucking much."

"And I hate you for not fucking me much... or at all."

Matt winced at the horribly composed sentence, being a genius from an institute that was tailored to help improve and expand the high IQs of highly intelligent children, and that included the mastering of the English language.

"Both of ya, shut the hell up!" shouted a gruff voice that shocked the two teens and Matt out of their thoughts. Matt felt rude for listening in, but he wasn't the only one. The parties by the window were causing quite the scene. Behind the two boys in the next booth was a tall, white haired man who appeared to be about thirty years old, with a shorter, pink haired woman resting her head on his chest. Matt thought the girl was quite hot despite her shorter stature. She couldn't have been more than four feet tall.

"Fucking queers. I'm trying to have a romantic night with my wife here!" the tall man said icily, glaring at the two raven haired boys no more than a couple of feet away. 'Nix that thought.' Matt added, not wanting to be checking out another guy's wife. That would only end in tears– probably his, if he tried to take on that muscle-bound man for his woman. The white haired man's size and build didn't seem to faze the other occupants in the booth in front of his, since they just looked at each other, nodded, then picked up their beers and splashed it in his face. The two then took off running, and the white haired man was too busy trying to clean up his wife who got caught in the beer splash to chase them down.

Matt felt sorry for them, but at the same time, he couldn't help but snicker at the predicament. The two dark haired boys seemed so in tune with each other. They had probably been friends for a long time. The redhead scratched his head as the memories of his and Mello's prankster days back at Wammy's House flooded him. He had no doubt that had someone in the same establishment had accused them like that (even if they were in the wrong), they would have probably schemed something similar and then made a break for it.

The thought suddenly made Matt freeze again, the smirk wiping off his face. For one, Mello and him hadn't talked in person for quite some time. Would Mello really be willing to joke around like that now that he had such a big, "scary" mafia image? And that thought was only half as troubling as Matt's other inner inquiry at why the hell he was comparing himself and Mello to two gay guys he just stumbled on in a bar. That was messed up! If Mello knew he was thinking things like that, there would be a gun to his temple. And probably not even the dignity of Mello's gun either. It'd most likely be Rod's. And that was a scary-ass thought.

"Good, you made it," said a familiar voice as a gloved hand rested on Matt's shoulder. Despite himself, he jumped a bit with the start of a strangled shriek caught in his throat. Mello gave him a weird look as he walked in front of his partner, looking him up and down. "What are you so freaked out about?"

"Nothin', nothin'." Matt shook his head, attempting his normal crooked smile, but failing miserably.

"Man, it sure is quiet in here," Mello mused, seeming to be satisfied with Matt's answer.

"It seems like a quiet place."

"Well it is, but when I was walking in, these two dark haired guys were rushing out of here like their asses were on fire. I thought something was up."

"Oh? Yeah, I saw the whole thing. Those two homos were getting a little too friendly in their booth, so that big guy over there threatened 'em. They threw beer at him and took off, but I guess they weren't worth his time."

"If you think that guy's big, wait til you meet Rod," Mello said, measuring the white haired man with his eyes. Matt could feel himself pale.

"So I am going to meet him then?" he tried to sound cocky, but it came out sounding nervous instead.

"Well yeah. I thought you should get credit from the big-wig of this operation since you're doing the hard part."

"Please, you're the real big-wig of this operation, Mel."

Mello risked a small smile. "Maybe, but he doesn't need to know that." Matt felt himself smiling himself at one of Mello's rare moments of no-screaming, when suddenly he was once again faced with Mello's classic, wintery glare. "Hey wait a minute, what's your problem with homos anyway?"

"Nothing!" Matt suddenly defended, jerking upright. "I was just calling them as I saw them!"

"Yeah right."

"Since when were you a Gay-rights activist?"

"I'm not! It's just...rude."

"Rude? Coming from you, man, that's hilarious."

"You're an ass."

"Don't say that, Mels, you'll hurt the donkeys' feelings."

"'Mels'? Who's the homo now?" Mello half-laughed, rolling his eyes.

"I didn't call you a homo. I said you were acting like an activist. But I don't think the gays want the support of a Mafia type criminal." Matt replied, smirk in place as he poked Mello's upper arm. The mirth left Mello's eyes as soon as 'criminal' escaped Matt's lips, and he looked down. Noticing, the redhead confirmed to himself that Mello did indeed feel some guilt about the way he was going about doing things.

"Sorry," he said, poking the blond's arm again. "I was just teasing. So when am I going to get introduced to this big, scary Mafia don of yours?"

Mello shrugged in response. "I left early so I could get here first and tell you to brace yourself for it. Rod's not a particularly happy guy."

"I figured."

"Just behave. And cut the dry sarcasm; it'll only piss him off. And that's something you don't want, believe me." Mello continued, a very serious look on his face. Matt didn't want to show fear to his best friend, so quickly turned away from the hardened blue orbs.

"If I slip, we'll you get me out of it?" he added weakly in a teasing voice, forcing himself to smile a little. Mello did the same after rolling his eyes.

"I'll see what I can do."

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Author's Note: Is it just me or are these chapters getting shorter? Sorry for such a crappy update, but since it took me so long to get off my ass and finish, I thought I'd hurry up and post. Oh and it's pretty obvious, but there's a cameo of my YYH oneshot "Without Complications" in here that I wrote for Spirit ages ago. A little surprise/thank you to her for reading my DN fic even though she's not super big in the fandom. I love you, girl!