The Mello Code

Mello dropped tiny sprigs of basil into the sizzling pan of pasta sauce. He compared it to the picture in the cookery book and it looked the same. He smiled and served it up into Victorian porcelain dishes, musing on the fact that Italian recipes had probably never been known to the minds who had hand-painted this crockery. He took down the wine-glasses, flicking one with his fingernail to test that they really were crystal. A sharp ping sounded and he was content. The bottle of red that he had breathing on the worktop was quality. It wasn\'t the half a bottle of Fair Trade that he\'d practically forced down Matt\'s neck to make him relax a bit; this was a Vosne-Romanée, medium-bodied Burgundy, and apparently very nice. Mello didn\'t drink, but he knew his wines.



It was with some relief that he declared his meal cooked and ready to carry through into the parlour. It might have been wiser to have ordered in a take-away; it would probably have been more sensible to have asked Matt to cook. Either one of them would have meant that Mello hadn\'t had to leave his husband entertaining their guest in the parlour. As it was, Mello enjoyed cooking and wanted to create something special. He compensated for the perceived, or actual, awkwardness in the other room by appearing in there every couple of minutes. He had taken in the grated Parmesan cheese, the black pepper, the breadsticks, the salad, the pot of olives and the olive oil, and the jug of iced water, in separate visits, trying not to make it too obvious to either of them that he was ensuring that the conversation continued without either Hal or Matt wishing they were elsewhere. He needn\'t have worried. They appeared to have found a safe subject - the cultural differences between America and Britain - which was engaging them both.



"Dinner is served." Mello strolled in, a blue and white dish held in each hand. He presented them in front of the couple with a flourish. "Buon appetito!" He glanced across to check, as he had on every visit, that Matt wasn\'t smoking over the table; dreading the moment that he actually was. He wasn\'t.



"Oh! It smells delicious." Hal smiled, edging forward slightly in her seat.



"Thank you." Mello grinned. "Hopefully it will also taste as nice." He dashed out, grabbing the wine and the glasses and wondering if it would look classy if he carried them in one hand, with his own dish of food in the other. He decided that it wouldn\'t, so took the wine first. They were both waiting for him before they started eating. "No, please do tuck in."



Matt smiled up at him. "We\'re waiting for you to say grace."



Mello blinked. He and Matt had never ceremoniously said grace before a meal before, though Mello silently did so inside his own head. He nodded. "Matt, would you be so kind as to pour the wine, please? It has breathed." He darted out again, collecting his own meal with a sense of a job well done. Hal, at least, had not looked ready to flee or hit someone. Matt had not been drifting upstairs or hiding inside himself. His people were fine. He returned to the parlour and sat down with a smile. "Is everyone alright? Does anyone need anything else?" There were murmers of satisfaction around the room, so Mello crossed himself. "Bless us, O Lord, and these your gifts, which we are about to receive from your bounty. Through Christ our Lord. Amen."



"Amen." Matt and Hal dutifully repeated.



"Now, please eat." They did so, exchanging pleasantries as they devoured their meal. Matt cleared away their dishes, using the excuse to have a cigarette in the kitchen, before offering to create a chocolate mousse for dessert. It was only after that too was eaten and they had retired to the living room, that another consideration occurred to Mello. "How long do we get to steal you away from the rigours of the orphanage? You are perfectly welcome to stay tonight." He was glad that Hal was facing him and therefore missed Matt\'s expression. "Otherwise, I\'m sober and willing to drive you back at whatever hour you choose."



Hal glanced at her watch. She blinked a couple of times. "It\'s nearly 10 o\'clock! I hadn\'t realised it was so late."



Mello shrugged, "We aren\'t the sort of household to worry much about civilised hours." His mind raced through where they might locate a quilt and bedding for a single bed at this time of night. There was an 24 hour Asda in Southampton which might cater for them, though it would require him to leave Matt and Hal alone again for half an hour at least. Then he would have to run upstairs to create a guest room worthy of having a guest in it. Mello privately kicked himself for not having kept one in readiness, despite never thinking that they might have to use one. "It\'s totally up to you." Mello glanced at Matt. He must have drunk a whole bottle of wine by now. Though he didn\'t appear intoxicated, he was certainly over the limit. Mello\'s sensibilities shrunk away from sending him out. They would just have to use their summer quilt. It would be way too big for a single bed, but that might just look cosy. He could take up his own bedside cabinet and perhaps commandeer a rack from his own wardrobe for her clothes. He became aware of Matt and Hal both staring at him. "Pardon me." He blinked. "Did I miss something?"



Matt laughed. "That\'s something you don\'t see every day, Hal. Mello thinking." The redhead winked at him. "You saw the chocolate static between his teeth? That\'s Mello code for \'my brain has just wandered off for a bit and will be back with a moment of breath-taking brilliance any second now\'. Care to share, my love?"



Mello felt himself blushing and could have happily strangled his husband. "Just pondering something about my case." He growled, sucking the chocolate in and crunching it. "Talking of which, are we forgiven yet, Hal?"



"Ah, yes, your case." Hal sat up a little straighter. "So now that you\'ve ascertained that I wasn\'t trying to kill you, note the past tense, what are you going to do?" She frowned. "In fact, what\'s so dangerous to you about it? Other than the fact that I\'m so annoyed with you for taking it?"



Mello slid one leg over the arm of his armchair and smiled at her. "You don\'t want to kill me, Halle."



"You get to call me Halle, if I get to call you Mihael."



Mello sucked on another square of chocolate, savouring it with his tongue dipping over its edges. "I have solved your case. I could tell your investigator right now the source of all narcotics in the country." He enjoyed how startled she appeared at that news. "Unfortunately, I\'m not going to." He fixed his gaze upon her and smiled. "Unless he\'d settle for a conclusion without the evidence to back it up."



Hal\'s tongue in annoyance. "You are not supplying illegal drugs to the United States. At least I can\'t see why you would be. So what is it that\'s so threatening to you? He was offering a million dollars, because I told him that that\'s the least amount that L would receive for looking at it. You were certainly eager to get your hands on it a few days ago."



"It\'s not the money, Hal." Mello wondered what she would say if she knew precisely how wealthy he was. Even Matt had had to sit down, staring into space for a long time, when he had found out and Matt was used to having large sums of money at his disposal. But if Matt hadn\'t put two and two together, then he didn\'t see how Hal would. It was a constant source of bemusement to him that no-one quite appreciated that, when the Mafia in America had been massacred, Mello had been the only man standing. As Consigliere, he also had access to Rod Ross\'s bank accounts. "Just believe me when I say that I\'m not short of a bob or two. Besides, if we ever were short, Matt and I could make a substantial income in just an hour\'s work on the MayDay Line." He grinned. "I want to make my name. I will make my name. I will be the greatest detective ever."



Hal sipped her wine. "By embarrassing your contacts, then hoping that charm and a meal will repair any damage."



"Hal." Matt quietly interjected. "I don\'t think you quite grasp the significance of what\'s happened here today. No-one has ever been invited into our home before. We both guard its location jealously and we have both calculated the risks inherent in anyone being here. We were brought up knowing that giving away personal information equated death, if that information got into the wrong hands. Yet here we are, getting drunk with you and occasionally leaving you alone in rooms full of personal information about us. It was my idea to trick you and I apologise for that. It was Mello\'s idea to show you just how much you are trusted. Will you be staying tonight?"



Hal looked from one to the other, settling at last at staring at Mello with a quizzical expression. "No-one has ever stayed here before?"



"No." Mello\'s head twitched in the tiniest gesture of respect. "You\'re the first and only. I doubt we\'ll ever ask anyone else back here. We\'re not known for our openness." He could tell that she was moved by this. "I also apologise for embarrassing you. The fact that I didn\'t owes more to my paranoia than anything that you\'ve done."



Hal nodded. "Thank you." She took a deep breath. "I haven\'t brought any overnight things, so I suppose I should get back to Wammy\'s House. I have to admit that I didn\'t realise quite how far away you lived, when I agreed to come home with you." She smiled slightly and Mello narrowed his eyes. She gave no other indication that she believed them closer to Winchester than they had let on. "So it\'s your reputation that you are building. What\'s so incriminating about the evidence, Mello?"



"Two things." Mello\'s gaze lowered to inspect his chocolate bar. It was nearly gone. Two more bites and all that would be left were the tiny shards in the bottom of the foil, that he would have to spear with his tongue, or else tip back into his mouth to get at. He didn\'t want to miss anything of her reaction, so he quickly ate the remainder. "Be right back." He bolted into the kitchen and took another two bars from the fridge. He dropped one onto the floor in front of his armchair, peeling open the other as soon as he sat back down. "Sorry about that. Yes, two things. There is no point in lying to you, because you know that I was in the Mafia. Some parts of the puzzle needed to solve this case are known to me because of my history. I\'m not so foolish as to hand, to the government of the country in which I was in full knowledge of certain operations, the evidence needed to try me. I am paranoid, Hal, as Matt will happily inform you, which means that I fear being framed for things that I did not do, as well as investigated for that which I may have been involved in."



"Hold on." Hal raised her hand. "You think that the US government would create a patsy out of you, because they couldn\'t convict the mobsters known to you at the time you were active? Yes, Mello, you really are paranoid."



Mello shrugged. "Or you are niave. There are a lot of judges, law enforcement officers and politicians who would panic at seeing my name attached to anything. Which is why it\'s occurred to me this week that I will probably never be able to take on cases in the US." He snapped off a corner of chocolate. "Which is a great pity, as that\'s where some of the really juicy cases are, as well as the people with the money to be able to hire me. I\'ll think of something."



"You make it sound like anyone with influence in my country is corrupt."



"No." Mello shook his head. "Some of them were annoyingly impossible to influence." He smirked, staring back up at her. "But that\'s not the main reason I\'m not submitting this evidence." He brightened suddenly. "I really love it when I manage to surprise Matt. This is the first time he\'s looked up in interest. Awww, baby, did you not work out the other important issue?"



"Yes." Matt bobbed his tongue out. "You\'re scared of bringing the Mafia down on our heads."



"Mmm." Mello smiled. "Almost there. But wrong." He lowered his hand, so that they could both see his lips. "When I was seventeen, I took an oath. I cannot give evidence because I\'m bound by the laws of omerta not to. I submit my casefiles and I deserve to have the Mafia coming down on our heads."



Both of his companions stared at him. Predictably, it was Hal who responded. "You still abide by the laws of the Mafia? Mello!" She spluttered, seeking like a drowning woman after a twig for the words to fully express her indignant shock. "I thought that was all behind you!"



"Possibly. Possibly not." Mello replied, darkly. "Who knows what the future holds? Right now, if I needed to move on something, I could make a couple of phone calls. The Watari Network might provide my resources, might give me access to people and information, but for something really big, it would probably have to be passed through Near first. There would be a delay. It might not happen. Near might get ahead on the information implied by the request." He smiled, his eyes in shadow beneath his fringe. "Alternatively, I have friends everywhere who, even now, would move Heaven and Earth to supply me as quickly as possible. Would you give up that advantage for one case with dubious properties?"



Hal exhaled loudly. "Mello, the Watari Network would move for you. You have my word on that." She peered up, coquettishly. "I am, after all, Watari."



"Ok." Mello nodded slowly. "So I want to speak to the President of Pakistan. What would you do?"



She sighed. "Right, something like that I would have to pass up to Near, but I\'m sure that he wouldn\'t have a problem with it."



"And say that it\'s the middle of the night in New York, which is where he is 90% of the time, and so you can\'t raise him until morning. Then say that Near decides to drag his feet over giving authorisation, on account of the fact that it\'s me who wants it and he\'s a wanker. How long would it actually take for me to have Asif Ali Zardari on the end of my telephone?"



Matt replied thoughtfully, "I reckon about an hour, tops." He was chewing on the cuticles around his fingernails. "Because you\'d tell me, I\'d hack every government mainframe I could find in Islamabad. Sooner or later I\'d find access to the President\'s private number, then I\'d give it to you."



Mello bit his lip. "Right. There\'s bound to be a flaw there somewhere. I\'ll get back to you when..."



"There\'s not. I did have a list of private telephone numbers for all the world leaders, which I got just like that." Matt replied earnestly. "If you\'d have asked six months ago, the ETA on you having the number would have been about a minute, but Pakistan has been through three presidents in that time, so I don\'t know if the number I have is still current."



"So I have a third option. Fine." Mello stared at him and Matt shut up. "But if for, whatever reason, you were unable to gain access to your files, say we were in the middle of the Siberian grasslands and you didn\'t have a signal for your laptop, then..."



"You\'d be unlikely to have one for your phone either. If," Matt chuckled, "we should ever be in the middle of Siberia trying to contact the President of Pakistan, and Near was being an arse, then my laptop would be perfect, because after this conversation I\'m going to ensure my list is on my hard-drive."



"And what if your laptop had had a nasty accident involving being shoved up your jacksy?"



Matt nodded. "Granted, that would be a problem, but you\'d never be able to contact the Mafia then either." He lit a cigarette, continuing hurriedly, "Because, if my laptop had had such an accident, then I\'d have broken both your arms and ripped your tongue out."



Mello roared with laughter. "You see why I love him?" He demanded of Hal, who was staring between them with a look of disbelief on her features. "Oh. Yes. Matty, don\'t joke about domestic violence. That\'s very wrong."



Hal raised her hands. "I get the point. I can\'t say that I agree with it, but I see where you\'re coming from. Near has an automatic right to resources that you do not have, hence you feel that you cannot cut ties with the Mafia. Even if doing so might save a lot of lives from drug-related incidents in the States." She peeped across at him. "Might I persuade you to share your conclusions and, perhaps, create a potted history of the people or locations to investigate that Bernard\'s team might arrive at the same conclusion?"



Mello nodded. "I could do that. You don\'t need to have Mafia involvement to answer the question of the third category of supplier anyway, because they aren\'t Mafia."



She smiled. "Then speak to Jason, because I think that would be exactly what he would have you do. All they wanted were the leads."



"Yeah, about that." Mello settled back further into his armchair. "You asked me to evaluate it as a friend? My response is that Near wouldn\'t have touched it with a bargepole." Both Hal and Matt looked at him in surprise. "People only ask for leads when they want to solve the case for themselves. Presumably your Bernard, or whoever is leaning on him, wants to create some kind of political kudos out of gaining results. They don\'t get that by asking L to charge in like the caped crusader. They wanted Near\'s brain to find the leads for their own glory. He\'d have seen that in an instant and told them to go shove it where the sun doesn\'t shine." He smirked at Hal. "Does that get you off the hook?"



She deflated a little. "It mostly poses the question why you would take it, if Near wouldn\'t. Surely your concerns are the same. In fact yours are greater. Near can afford a little charity." She heard Matt\'s wincing hiss. "I didn\'t mean that with disrespect Mello. I\'m stating it as I see the situation."



"No, you\'re right. Stop being so over-sensitive, Matt. She\'s called it." Mello held his chocolate, staring down at it. "My idol, the man I aspired to follow, did not have it all on a plate to start with. He had Wammy\'s money, that\'s all. I have money. The original L created his own contacts and they are still the basis of the Watari Network now. As soon as Near was able to convince the world leaders that L, as they perceived him under Kira, was an imposter, he inherited a fully complete network. That\'s not following in our idol\'s footsteps, that\'s building on his hand-me-downs. He even works under L\'s name." Mello peered back at them. "My contacts will be my own. When I called Bernard Comben, I told him straight out that L would not take this case and I told him why. I then offered to do it myself on one proviso." He smirked. "That the next case comes to me directly."



"Fuck shit! Mello!" Matt\'s hand fell from his mouth so rapidly that ash flicked all over the carpet. "You\'re fucking undercutting L!" On the settee between them, Hal looked ill. "Way to go, angel! Woot!"



"So you see my dilemma." Mello resumed licking his chocolate. "But I will speak to him about your suggestion of highlighting the necessary evidence. At least I will now that I know it was purely coincidental my becoming involved in this case and not a set-up from either of the links in the chain."



Hal swallowed and wriggled to the edge of the settee. "I\'m ready to go back to Wammy\'s House now."



"Oh Hal!" Mello started up again. "Come on. How have we managed to piss you off again this badly?"



"You use people, Mello. This isn\'t a friendship, it\'s an exploitation." She pointed at him. "You\'ve used me and my friends to get one over on Near. In fact, I wouldn\'t be at all surprised if the whole point of me being asked to be Watari is because you think you can use me. What am I, Mello? A soft touch on resources? A way to intercept cases? Oh! I get it! I\'m what I\'ve always been, a way to communicate with Near without losing face!"



"You overestimate how often I want to speak to Near." Mello flashed a smile, though inside his heart was sinking.



"It was me who suggested you." Matt watched her and, when she glanced at him, smiled too. Mello was grateful to him for doing that, as he knew that it mattered little to Matt whether they were on good terms with Hal or not. "I did so because you\'re the best person I could think of for the job. Besides, if Mello wanted to use you like that, then he\'d have been better off leaving you with Near. You had access to far more toys there than you have at Wammy\'s."



Mello bit back laughter, enjoying the double meaning of Matt\'s statement. "He does, of course, mean satellite transmissions and the like, as opposed to Transformers, though the other is equally true." He sat forward, placing both feet on the floor and resting his forearms on his thighs. "Hal, you have me over a barrel. I\'ve treated you appallingly, so negotiate your terms. What will put a smile back on your face and restore your faith in me as a human being?"



"That is just the problem, Mihael. You think that friendship can be negotiated. This is not a business deal."



He nodded. "Ok, you may call me Mihael, only not in Wammy\'s and not in public. That would be a bit dangerous." He noted how sharply she glanced at him at that. "Matt, may she call you Mail?"



Matt frowned, though not for the reason that Hal probably thought he did. "Yes, she can call me Mail."



"Thank you, Mail." Mello winked at him. "I\'ll solve the mystery of why a red Fiesta, stolen in Manchester, has ended up outside your front door. I\'ll speak with your friend, Bernard, and let him know how to gain his political kudos. If Near finds out about this case, I\'ll explain to him myself why I didn\'t think he\'d take it and, if he\'s still arsy with you, I\'ll kick his head in myself for you. You have that already. Come on, Halle, you\'re in a strong bargaining position here. Why don\'t I make us another coffee, while you think how you could use me like I, supposedly, use you." He stood, biting his lip as he smiled at her. "I\'m glad we\'re friends. Life would be awfully boring without you yelling at me in it."



The gesture he had made had been so slight that Mello doubted Hal had seen it, but Matt followed him out within seconds. They exchanged bemused smirks in the kitchen. Matt whispered in Spanish to him, "What the fuck are you up to?"



"Now, Matty." Mello responded in English. "I know that we usually speak in Spanish between ourselves, but it\'s a little rude when there\'s an English monoglot in the house." Matt cast him a look that spoke volumes, especially since the only time they did converse solely in Spanish was when Mello was trying to appease his husband over something. Mello removed the sodden filter sack and dropped it into the bin. "Hey, bebe." He scooped Matt into an embrace and kissed him passionately on the lips. "Missed you, you fucking gorgeous bastard." Matt smiled at him, his gaze softening behind the goggles. He had only started wearing them again today, though his eye still looked swollen. Mello kept one hand against his husband, while the other slipped another filter into the coffee-maker and then ladled ground coffee into it. He only let go to rinse out the jug, before filling the top with bottled water. He maintained that it tasted better in coffee than the tap water, though Matt always laughed at him and said that bottled water was tap water sold to idiots who deserved to be parted from their cash. "Right, where was I? Oh yes, snogging my sexy husband."



Matt laughed. "Why are you flirting with me? You already..." He was silenced with a kiss.



Mello drew back grinning. "Because I want to." He planted another kiss. "Thank you."



"What for?"



"You know."



They were interupted by Hal walking into the kitchen behind them. She sighed loudly. "I asked for a lift home, not another coffee." She gestured for Mello to be quiet before he even spoke. "I think that both of you would benefit from seeing a therapist. So my first term is this, that you individually see Valerie. She is a very good psychiatrist, who did field work in refugee camps before coming to Wammy\'s House. I\'m satisfied with her work so far."



Mello\'s grip on Matt tightened. "Just me. I\'ll see Valerie, but I can\'t ask Matt to go. I\'m already making him go to church, I can\'t ask him to go to a shrink as well." His mind caught up with what he was saying. "You think I need a shrink? I don\'t think I need a shrink."



"He doesn\'t need a shrink." Matt agreed.



Hal surveyed them both warily. "It\'s not like I\'m asking you to have a limb cut off. She might well agree with you and then you can leave as smugly as you did when Madeleine told you that you weren\'t diabetic." She flashed a smile. "What\'s the matter, Mello? Afraid that someone will tell you that you\'re not as great as you think you are?"



"Wow." Matt blinked. "You\'ve really misread him."



"Really?" Hal arched an eyebrow.



"Yarly!" Matt exclaimed, but Mello squeezed his arm to make him shut up.



"I\'ll think about it." Mello replied quietly, then rallied. "That was your first term, there are more?"



Hal nodded. "I want back up on the Board. When your peers are running rings around me, stopping me doing my job, throwing every obstacle they could conceive of in my way, then I would like a couple of geniuses fighting my corner for me."



"Corrupting officials..." Matt began, shaking his head in mock outrage.



"Ok." Mello smiled. "Brief me before any meeting and I\'ll argue your case for you. I can\'t guarantee results, but I will help you state your case. I know that they can be very intimidating when they are feeling threatened. By they, I do mean \'us\'."



Hal looked surprised, but she was softening. "Thank you, Mello."



Mello inclined his head. "You are very welcome. That was very insightful. Clever."



"There\'s no need to sound so surprised."



Mello\'s eyes widened. "That wasn\'t surprise. I wouldn\'t expect any less of you." He winked at her. "Are we friends again now?"



"You don\'t know the meaning of the word \'friendship\', Mello, but I\'m willing to help you learn." She scratched her arm. "I have one more proviso." She grinned mischeviously. "I want you to teach. Not just you, all of you." She raised her hand before the protests could be verbalised. "Hear me out. It was mentioned at one of the meetings, then just died a death. I\'m not talking about daily or even weekly sessions. I\'m talking about, perhaps, once a month each of you taking it in turns to come in and host a session. Our teachers are very good, extremely good, but if they had your minds, then they would be out there doing what you do. You couldn\'t buy the sort of experience and advanced knowledge that you all possess."



Mello stared. He tried to imagine convincing Matt, let alone the rest of the alumni, to fulfill her request. He tried to imagine himself standing in a classroom, but anxiety twisted in his stomach. The worst of it was that he could actually see the sense in what she was asking. His sensibilities shrank from it and he couldn\'t think of a word to say. Matt spoke up, his tone superior, "Ok, I\'ll take the first session. Advanced Hacking. Though you should get Chrissie in next, because if they get caught in my class, then their friends will need her class to bust them out of life imprisonment."



"Thank you, Matt." Hal smiled. "I\'ll pencil you in for the that. Shall we start after Christmas? Perhaps a date in January? I, of course, trust that you will be keep a close eye on their practice sessions to ensure that none of them get into trouble."



Matt\'s mouth opened and closed. Mello breathed again. "Can I do literature?" She nodded and he started to get used to the idea. "Does this mean we\'re friends again now?"



"Oh, we\'re getting there, Mello." Her smile grew into a smirk. "And thank you for helping me improve Wammy\'s House. I think we have a whole new working relationship that is going to be so much fun to build upon. Don\'t you?"