[The second shot goes down like water after the first, still as warm, still as bitter. But it doesn't make Mello suppress the urge to wince at the burning with which it stings his throat. He tightens his mouth at L's reprimand – a child scolded – and is silent a for a long while. Minutes, watching the fellow patrons around them, considering the question and the best way to approach the answer of, sometimes, I'm afraid it will crush me into the ground that I might never get up.]

[He'll refrain from ordering another so soon; he doesn't want his predecessor to gain the impression that Mello has any habits that would hinder him as an asset.]

Yea, well. [A slight distraction.] You were breathing, so.

[So. There was that. More silence. What type of answer does L possibly expect]

The weight is just another job. [Shrug.] If there's a problem, I have to resolve it. If something needs to be done, I get it done.

[There. That answer should be satisfactory.]

Would you prefer something sweeter? [Gesturing towards L's shotglass.]

I want to talk about your Bond. I respect your choice; you would do nothing without good reason, and I don't want any details about it.

[Please; he doesn't want details.]

But I've assessed my priorities, and we need to speak on them.