Denial is a powerful thing.

Jubilee experienced this first hand when, within eight hours, she had convinced herself to forget the revelation of the night before. Instead, she had replaced it with a myriad of excuses that, despite being more comfortable to face, were nonetheless still annoying.

"Stockholm Syndrome," she declared through a mouthful of toothpaste to her own reflection as she brushed her teeth that morning. She spit the mouthful of minty foam into the sink and looked back up at the mirror. "I've got Stockholm Syndrome," she declared to herself with unassailable certainty. "It's the only possible explanation."

Is it now, said Hellenos dryly from the corner.

"Yes." She nodded her head furiously at the mirror. "I've been cooped up in this building for too long. I'm losing it."

Hellenos leaned against the wall. You know, humans do this a lot. Explain away the miraculous with the mundane.

"Hah!" Jubilee whirled on Hellenos, pointing her toothbrush at him accusingly. "It is miraculous, isn't it? Which means that it's not natural. Which means that I don't—! I don't…" She glared at the end of her toothbrush, unable to bring herself to say the words aloud. With a hmph she whirled around again, grumbling ominously to herself as she fumbled around on the counter for her contact lens case.

Don't what? asked Hellenos innocently.

"Nothing," snapped Jubilee. "I don't like him." She snatched up her contacts and proceeded to insert them into her eyes.

Who?

"You know who!" Jubilee shouted, almost poking her eyes out in her agitation. Taking a deep breath and gripping the edge of the counter, she lowered her forehead to the cold white edge of the sink and counted to ten. "Tell me I don't like him, Hellenos," she said softly, her eyes closed. "Not like that."

Why? snorted the angel. You don't listen to me half the time anyway.

Jubilee snapped upright, thoroughly irritated. "This can't be happening to me," she said through gritted teeth.

What can't be happening to you? Use your words now.

"Nothing. Nothing is happening to me," she hissed. "I am not attracted to him. It's not possible."

And why not, pray tell?

"Because it doesn't make any sense! He's not attractive. He's not good-looking. And frankly, he's weird," she declared, more to her reflection than anyone else.

Hellenos put a hand over his eyes. One step forward, two steps back, he murmured to himself.

Jubilee whirled back to him. "You explain it then," she demanded. "How can I be attracted to someone I don't find attractive?"

Hellenos regarded her coolly. I thought you just said that you aren't.

Jubilee felt herself panic. "I'm not!"

Hmm. Hellenos cocked his head as though considering her. You're right. You're not making any sense.

Jubilee slammed her fist against the counter in despair and frustration, then dragged her hands down her face. "That's it. I must be losing my sanity."

Hellenos glided over and patted her comfortingly on the shoulder.Love can feel strange at first.

Jubilee nearly fell over, so violently did she flinch at that statement. There it was. The dreaded L word.

"What?!" she screeched. "Who said anything about love?"

Hellenos gave her a pointed look.

"Oh no." She began shaking her head at rapid-fire speed. "Absolutely not. There's no way."

Why not, Jubilee? pressed the angel. What are you so afraid of?

"What? No. I am not afraid of anything," huffed Jubilee. "He arrested me and locked me in a cell for fifty days. I don't even like him! And now we're talking about love?"

You're back to dwelling on the past again, are you?

Jubilee swiveled her head up to glare at him. "I don't want to be in love, Hellenos," she snapped. "I was never looking for love, and I never asked for it." She shrugged his hand off of her shoulder as she turned away. "We would never work out anyway. Plus, it would be highly unprofessional." Grabbing a brush, she proceeded to hurriedly finish up her morning routine.

Hellenos watched her as she yanked the brush roughly through her hair. "Love doesn't only go after the ones who are looking and asking," he said softly. "You should know. You've met Him."

The brush paused mid-stroke, but then finished its journey through Jubilee's long brown tresses before she set it down. "I've got to get to work," she mumbled finally. Not meeting the angel's eyes, she turned to exit the bathroom.

"That's what they always say," sighed the angel as she walked past him, and then started to go dim.

Jubilee didn't look to see if he was with her when she made her way to the elevator and hit the down button.

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The first few hours of the workday passed by under a cloud of agonizing tension. Jubilee had been pointedly ignoring L the whole time, even when he made simple requests such as asking her to forward certain notes to other members of the team. She obeyed each time, but without a word of acknowledgement. Other than that there was only a scowl to indicate that she had heard him at all.

It didn't take a detective to notice her change in behavior. The other task members cast her wary glances as she thumped away at her keyboard, her black mood hanging ominously about her like a storm cloud.

"Miss Julie," whispered Matsuda nervously to her during his coffee break, "Have you—um—have you and Ryuzaki…had a falling out of some kind?"

The young woman turned slowly towards him, her eyes narrowed with a murderous glint. "What do you mean?" she asked darkly.

This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

The young officer gulped, instantly regretting his question. "Um—I just mean—"

"What," she continued, her tone dangerous, "Could there be to fall out of?"

Matsuda swallowed. "Nothing!" he chirped before he hurried away, wondering to himself how it was that women could be so frightening.

Jubilee turned back to her computer screen. Taking a deep breath, she tried to pull herself together. This was bad. It occurred to her that if even Matsuda, of all people, could tell that something was up with her, then it boded ill for her to be in the same room as the greatest detective in the world. Willing herself to appear calm, she cast a casual glance L's way.

He was looking at her.

She whipped her head back around to her computer, heart thumping with dread. That look had been a calculating one. He was treating her behavior as a case to solve.

Please God, she thought, Don't let him figure it out.

Schooling her features into a neutral expression, she turned back to him. "What?" she asked as amiably as she could.

He regarded her with calm detachment. "So we are speaking now?" he responded simply.

The statement hit her like a dart with its unsaid reproach and subtle confrontation. Panicking, she mentally sifted through options of how to respond. She could pretend that she didn't know what he was talking about, but her conduct had been too blatant for this tactic to be believable. Silently she berated herself. Stupid. Her own stubborn denial had been her undoing.

The realization made her stop short. She was in denial, wasn't she? At the very least, whether it was for logical reasons or not, L had an effect on her. Call it insanity or hormones, this was a fact that could no longer be denied. That was why she was acting so hostile towards him; it was the classic kindergartener's response to having a crush—act like you hate them.

The thought made her shudder. Why her? Why him, of all people? What was it about the human brain or, perhaps, the female heart, that so readily developed an attraction towards anyone in the vicinity that you spent x amount of time with? It was stupid. But it must be the explanation. Yes, this was all simply due to some mysterious interwoven design of biology, brain chemicals, and hormones. It could happen to anyone in her situation.

Comforted by this reasoning, she replied to L, "Yes. Sorry if I seem moody today. It's just...um…" She groped for an excuse and blurted the first thing that came to mind. "My time of the month."

If she could've slapped herself, she would've. Why? Why was there some unwritten law of the universe that doomed humans to inevitably say something embarrassing in front of the person they liked?

L had little reaction besides another calculating look. She groaned internally. Great. Now he was thinking about it.

Hoping desperately that their conversation was at an end, she swiveled back to face her computer and made a show of being busy. No one bothered her for the remainder of the day, but every now and then, she thought she could feel a pair of intense eyes on her.

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Three days passed. With each passing day, Jubilee felt her nerves start to fray more and more. She couldn't sleep. She couldn't concentrate on the case. Hours of footage played in front of her without her paying the least bit of attention. It took all of her energy to simply act normal around L so that he wouldn't suspect what was going on with her.

It was a task easier said than done.

If she ignored him, it would give him reason to suspect. If she paid too much attention to him, that too would give him reason to suspect. Each day passed by in a stressful cycle of vacillating between forced cordiality and feigned coldness. In an attempt to remedy her initial rude behavior, she had tried the route of generosity; offering to bring him treats from the refreshment cart, or refill his tea, or obtain extra sugar cubes for him. After the first few hours of this gracious treatment, L had raised an eyebrow at her and asked whether she was running a fever. Turning immediately red-faced, she'd had no choice but to agree in order to make the telltale sign work in her favor. After a day of restless bed rest, she had tried going back to being cold and distant. This, once more, made the detective question her health. After assuring him that she was perfectly recovered, she had spent the next thirty-six hours stressing over how to strike the perfect balance between disinterested, but not too disinterested. The overall experience made her feel like she was walking on eggshells on a tightrope between two unlevel skyscrapers, with little sleep and a pit of hungry tigers and bears waiting eagerly below for her inevitable demise.

"A break, perhaps, Miss Amachi?" The source of her distress spoke up from beside her shoulder, where he had rolled his chair down to with one arm outstretched behind him.

Jubilee simultaneously stiffened in dread and felt heat rise to her cheeks at his proximity. With all of her willpower she forced herself into a semblance of cool indifference. "No," she said shortly without looking at him. Shoot. That had come off as impolite. "Thank you," she added hastily, then pretended serious interest in the video she was watching.

She felt the detective's eyes still on her in intense scrutiny. "Don't you want to know why?" he asked after a long moment.

Jubilee swallowed. She'd have to turn to look at him for this conversation, lest she come off as ignoring him. Slowly she turned. "Why what?" she asked back, making a point to avoid eye contact and stare fixedly at a spot on his forehead.

"Why I should offer you a break. You might have noticed that that is an uncharacteristic gesture."

"You've done it once before," she said, then was surprised that she remembered. It had indeed been an uncharacteristic show of kindness at the time. Was that when her heart had first started softening towards him, without her even realizing it?

"True. But only because there was a 95% likelihood that you were about to keel face first into your computer from fatigue, thereby inflicting major damage on company property. You may have needed a few stitches at most, but the technological resource would have been irreparable—and therefore the greater loss."

Jubilee blinked. Why did she like this guy again? "Your point?" she said darkly, forgetting to act respectful.

"My point, Miss Amachi, is that it would take an extreme reason for me to make that suggestion."

With a pang, Jubilee suddenly realized that he had reverted back to calling her by her surname for this conversation. She silently rebuked herself for the thought. Why should she care?

With great effort she reined in her irritation and inner turmoil. "Alright," she said politely. "Why?"

"You seem to have been in a state of extreme stress for the past few days, Miss Amachi. I suspect your mental state is hindering you from making any progress in the case. Therefore I suggest you take a break until you have recovered."

"I don't know what you're talking about," she said with feigned ignorance. "I'm fine."

"I beg to differ, Miss Amachi."

The repeated use of her surname in such a formal and detached manner made her want to shake him, for reasons she couldn't quite understand. She reined in the impulse. Get a grip, Jubilee, she thought to herself fiercely. Erratic behavior would only be dropping major clues right into the detective's lap. She had to try and get him off her case.

"There's nothing bothering me," she stated as blithely as she could. "We've all just been focused on making headway in the Kira case. I don't need a break."

L measured her silently with wide, gray eyes. Bravely she tried to keep eye contact with him without breaking into a sweat. Luckily, her sight had reverted back to a more primitive level for the time being when it came to him; no distracting lights emanated from the gray-eyed young man, though she sometimes still saw the dull gray haze or other small things around him. Perhaps she had simply willed herself to stop seeing the light.

At last he opened his mouth to speak. "Perhaps that is so," he said. A line appeared above his head and snapped in two. He didn't believe her.

Crap.

"But," he continued, "Be that as it may…I insist." Leaning across her, her pushed the power button on her computer and shut it off. Leaning back to crouch on his haunches again, he appraised her with another measured look. She fought to breathe normally under his scrutiny. Even if she didn't like him, this would have been nerve-wracking.

"Misa has demanded to have a date with Light today. As was agreed upon, I must be there as well. You may accompany us."

Jubilee felt panic swell in her throat. "What? Why?"

L arched an eyebrow. "As I said, Miss Amachi—to take a break. The four of us are roughly in the same age category. Is this not what young people generally consider to be a form of recreation?"

Jubilee wanted to scream. It was the worst possible thing that could be happening to her right now. The object of her unwilling affections had just unknowingly and indirectly asked her on a double date.

Or was he on to her?

The worst possible thing suddenly became even worse.

"I'd—really rather not," she began.

"As I said," L cut her off, "I insist."

Jubilee pressed her lips into a thin line. Was this an innocent suggestion made out of kindness? Or was he more concerned about her usefulness towards the case than about her mental wellbeing? Or was it manipulation to figure out what was going on with her? In her panic she had failed to observe whether or not there had been a line over L's head to indicate his genuineness. But whatever the case may be, it seemed that she had no choice in the matter.

"Yes boss," she said flatly. She was darned if she was going to let him think that this prospect at all pleased her. Definitely Stockholm Syndrome, she thought to herself with resentment.

"Very good," said L, turning away to roll his chair back to his workstation beside Light. "We will be going up shortly."