[L gazes up at her with his jet-black eyes, his expression somewhere between dismay and apprehension. He can't scale the wall; he's embarrassingly ill-equipped to do much at all, actually, barring... well, barring what he does. He is L. He is the Computer Detective. He has several peripheral talents, and one perfect one. Everything else, in the entire world, is something L is better suited to leaving alone.

When she shimmies back down, though, he realizes that he's not completely forsaken, that there might be a glimmer of hope for this situation yet. Not that it doesn't still look pretty dire; how the hell could Heather get him over the fence? She's not much bigger or sturdier than he is... which is to say, neither of those qualities could be applied to her with a straight face.]