A/N: This is ConanRan/Rachel. I used the English names. I'm trash. These are your warnings. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters and such. I just owned the story idea. U:

Despite being in the middle of a city, the sound of crickets was easily discernible from the other noises that permeated the night. The melody they conducted was generally considered white noise to the would-be teen, something that made sleep easy even with Rachel's father snoring up a storm in their room. They often brought comfort to him as well, a reminder of times that were simpler, dating as far back as when he was first a child, really a child. Not the forced perversity that his body was now.

The sound was usually something that could make him smile without much thought, a gesture that felt often too used but never genuine enough any more, though less so during those particular moments.

Tonight however was not one of those nights.

Instead the crickets chirping outside the agency along with the deafening snoring of Richard only made the young detective roll about uselessly under his sheets. Not to mention it was so damn hot. Richard was extravagant when it was unneeded and stingy when their make-shift family could have benefited, Conan cracking open his eyes as he stared at the ceiling with venom. Even a fan would have sufficed in this sweltering heat, anything to keep him from feeling as if he was going to evaporate at any given moment.

The crickets chirping sounded more like nails against a chalk board, coupled with the fact that he was sure he was sticking to his futon, made for an impossible situation for sleep. He knew, even if he wandered into the detective's office to escape Richard's snoring, the heat and crickets would still follow him. He just wanted to go to bed and forget about all of this, forget about the fact that he was stuck in a child's body with the mind of a near-adult. Even if it was only for a couple of hours. It was something that kept him sane, he was sure of it.

Sitting up after another particularly violent toss of his blankets, he huffed in silence as he stared intently across the room at the opposite wall. For the moment, he found himself feeling dozy but not able to doze off, eyes lidded and form slumped forward, arms resting heavily on his legs buried under the covers.

The heat hit him all at once, hyper aware of the sweat rolling down the back of his neck, soaking into the collar of his pajama shirt unapologetically. His face was flushed and over-all, he felt incredibly sticky. It was almost a bit like he couldn't quite breathe, kicking his covers off all the way and standing without grabbing his glasses to walk out of the room. Once he was in the hall, and Richard's door was shut, he stood at the door way, mind in a state between being fully awake and on the way to sleep. It all felt very dream-like, the heat out here virtually no better. Maybe he could benefit from some cool water on his face.

With that thought in mind, he shuffled his way toward the bathroom, half-aware he was unbuttoning his top as he went along. There was no reason to be decent, seeing as nobody else was in the hall way with him, just ever-so-aware of the slight coolness that hit his bare chest as he unclasped more buttons. It was like heaven, even going so far as to pause in his steps to enjoy the minute relief on his feverish skin. Soon though he was back on his intended path, hoping that the water running wouldn't bother Rachel.

Reaching the door to the small bathroom, Conan paused slightly in his steps, hand half-way to the knob.

The light of the bathroom was on, the door open enough that the light spilled into the hall. Why hadn't he noticed that before? More importantly, why was the light on?

Maybe he should have thought more about it, been a little more aware, but he pegged it as Richard being careless. It wasn't uncommon for Richard to do something silly like that at home, leaving the bathroom light on. Even as he swung the door open, Conan rationalized away the fluttering feeling in his gut. When the door had made its way mostly open, Conan didn't even take a moment to look inside, to see if maybe he had intruded on anyone. Who would be using the bathroom at 3 in the morning anyway? Rachel had practice first thing in the morning and he'd just left Richard snoring in his bed.

Being careful of making too much noise, Conan turned the knob of the bathroom door and pushed it shut, the wood hardly making noise and the metal of the knob making the faintest "kchink" as it closed. By now his shirt was unbuttoned, hand slipping from the knob as it rested against the door. Pulling away, he turned around expecting to see an empty room yet not all that surprised when he saw the tub was filled and Rachel was resting in it, looking serene. She looked as if she was dozing slightly in the water, Conan unsure why he didn't quite feel embarrassment or shame watching her.

As if sensing his gaze, Rachel's eyes fluttered open, head turning after a beat to see who exactly had intruded on her private time. When she saw Conan, she smiled in a way that he knew was something special and meant for him alone.

"Conan," she said softly, sitting up slowly to get a better look at her surrogate brother. "Couldn't sleep?"

Conan nodded, eyes fixed on her face. There was no urge to look away or look lower, even though he was positive she was exposed. Instead he stepped forward, coming to lean against the edge of the bath.

"Why are you taking a bath, Rachel?" he asked, almost upset with himself for falling into being child-like with such ease. "It's so late." She smiled at that, reaching out to take his hand gently. He felt his heart skip a beat from the action, watching as she placed his hand into the water. The temperature was cool to the touch, but not cold, Conan sighing aloud at the feeling. Just having his hand in the cool water made him feel a million times better.

"I'm just cooling off, see?" she replied, letting go of his hand as he ran his fingers through the water. "I couldn't sleep either." He looked up at her, watching the way her eyes warmed at the sight of him. Shifting in the water by a few inches, she continued to smile before asking, "Do you want to climb in with me? You look a little too warm. A dip in the water will make you feel better, I promise."

Conan continued to run his hand through the water, tracing patterns that disappeared in an instant. He realized he could see Rachel's thigh from where he was at, the skin smooth and pale; if he reached down to touch her, his sleeve would get wet instantly. Instead he stared intently at the smooth expanse of flesh, hand stilling in it's motions. Rachel waited patiently, Conan aware that the back of his shirt was sticking to him, feeling hotter than ever.

Without saying anything, he peeled the opened top off of himself, and shed his pants and underwear next. He could feel Rachel watching him, though it wasn't embarrassing like he figured he should feel. Kicking his clothes to the side without thought, he turned himself back toward the tub just in time for Rachel to reach out. Lifting him into the air under his arms, during the brief moment before he hit the water, he could see everything. Every curve, all her pale self completely nude, submerged mostly in the crystal clear water.

Then he was touching the bath water and sinking into the coolness, settling himself onto Rachel's lap comfortably as the water came up to his collarbone. It was the strangest feeling, settling into a bathtub full of cool water, warm flesh beneath him. A contrast yet not something that was unwelcome.

"There we go," came the murmur, Rachel shifting again as she settled Conan against her. "Feel better, I hope?" He nodded, unsure if he should speak, gaze resting on a spot under Rachel's chin but well above where her breasts were. It wasn't embarrassment keeping him from looking down, and it wasn't a need to not seem like a little pervert. He was just...comfortable. He didn't feel an urge to do so, even though there was something nagging him in the very back of his head that something didn't seem right.

It was silent then, the only noise arising from the water moving about the tub, lapping at the bodies or the porcelain when one of them would shift. The longer Conan sat in Rachel's lap, the more he found himself leaning into her, body feeling heavier with each passing minute. At some point, Rachel's arms found their way around him, drawing him to rest flush against her, Conan tucking his head under her chin to get comfortable. He could feel the dampness of her skin on his cheek, faintly hear her heartbeat despite not resting over the spot where her heart was. It was soothing, his eyes slipping closed.

He noticed she was tracing patterns across his skin that made goosebumps rise along his arms, though he didn't move from his spot against her. He also noticed how damn soft she was. How comfortable it was to be in her arms like this, despite being in a child's body. Somewhere in his head he felt as if, just maybe, he shouldn't feel this comfortable. He couldn't help himself though. With a sigh, he relaxed fully into her embrace, Rachel pressing him to herself as she shifted to sit up more.

"You okay Conan?" she asked, voice floating to him from some far-away place.

"Mmhmm..." he mumbled into her collarbone. "That feels nice..." Indicating the attention she was paying to his back.

"Conan?"

The inflection of his name made his eyes open, and after a beat, he slowly began to sit up in her arms. She allowed him to move to get her in his view, and once his eyes met hers, he was shocked to see them filled with tears. After the initial flip of his stomach in worry, his eyebrows drew up a little.

"What's wrong, Rachel?" he asked gently, his facade dropping in the face of her tears. "Did I do something again?"

The wording seemed weird to his ears, though he knew that's often why she cried. It was usually his damn fault. She didn't think it was weird though, as she shook her head briefly.

"You're Jimmy."

It wasn't a question, or a guess, but a declaration. Some kind of alarm bell went off in the very back of his mind at that, but he didn't say anything for a moment. Even though he was SURE there was something so, so wrong with this situation, he didn't feel the need to lie about it.

"I am," he replied. A couple of tears spilled down her cheeks, Conan reaching out to brush them away gently as she hiccuped once. "Hey, don't cry, okay? It's okay."

She shook her head again, watching him as her lip trembled with the confirmation. He smiled a little, gently wiping away each tear that trailed down her cheeks. In turn, her hands came up to cup his face, doing nothing to hide the fact that she was crying, Conan continuing to wipe away the never-ending tear trails.

Her thumbs mimicked his, brushing softly against his cheeks as she watched him, the pseudo-child gazing back with that same small smile. A small whimper escaped the girl's throat, the sound squeezing Conan's heart painfully.

"J-Jimmy..." she murmured thickly. Slowly, she began drawing his face to hers, and though he could see what she intended to do from a mile away, he didn't stop her. He wanted it-needed it too, no matter what state his body was in. He needed it, needed something to show her that he was here, he loved her, that he was hers and hers alone. With purpose, Rachel stopped a hair's breadth away from Conan's lips, her head tilted slightly. Conan's eyes were just barely open, watching her watch him, as if looking for hesitation or a sign she should stop.

There was none.

Their lips connected then, all warmth and sweetness and everything he could have ever wanted from a kiss with Rachel. She held him there a long moment, mouths moving just the slightest against each other as they kissed, Rachel pulling away after another beat with the softest sound of lips disengaging from one another. On instinct, Conan licked his bottom lip to taste what might have been left. Almost disappointingly it tasted only like his own lip, tongue withdrawing as he opened his own eyes to gaze up at Rachel. She was still crying, though she looked much happier then Conan remembered seeing her.

"Are you okay?" he asked, hands still pressed to her cheeks. She nodded a little, a small laugh mixed with a hiccup as her own hands came up to cover his small ones.

"I missed you," she said softly.

"I never left you," he responded. He couldn't bring himself to even call her stupid.

"I knew...I knew all along...I just thought I was crazy..." Rachel leaned forward, pressing a kiss to his forehead that held nothing motherly much like it used to. She continued in a murmur against his hairline, "I'm not crazy, right? You're really Jimmy Kudo?"

"I'm really Jimmy Kudo," he said, eyes having slipped close at the contact. "I'm sorry-"

"Shh, not now..." she said, pulling him flush against her, holding him tightly. "Now isn't the time...it's okay, okay? Whatever the reason, I forgive you Jimmy. I did right from the start."

Now it seemed it was his turn for the waterworks, tears pricking the corners of his eyes as he pressed his cheek to her shoulder and held on. For a moment they sat like that, Conan realizing after a moment that they were still in the bathtub. He felt comfortable yet terrible and still yet he felt wonderful. Without warning, Rachel shifted the small body in her grasp as she stood, holding onto Conan carefully. Stepping out of the tub and onto the mat, she wrapped a large towel around the both of them and walked out of the bathroom.

Conan had half a mind to ask her if she was going to drain the tub, but didn't think he could spare energy for something so trivial at the moment. Instead he held onto his friend, tears still unshed but threatening to fall. His eyes remained closed, yet he knew they were in Rachel's room the moment she opened the door. It always had that particular smell that he could recognize anywhere, that was all Rachel.

Without drying her hair or either of themselves, Rachel sat down on her bed then pulled Conan down with her as they both laid down. Instantly he was in her arms, his small body pressed fully against her as she sighed with contentment.

The sound of the crickets chirping sounded as if it were miles away, Rachel's breathing soft. Each detail was getting harder to focus in on, Conan finding himself getting heavier and heavier, eyes closed still.

The near-silence was broken once more by Rachel.

"Jimmy?" she asked, as if for the last time.

"Yes, Rachel?" he responded softly, eyes refusing to open. He felt her shift, pressing her lips to the top of his head.

"I love you...everything will work out okay..."

The confession made a lump rise in his throat, tears welling up again in an instant as he nodded against her. He knew he owed her a proper response, but he didn't trust his voice or his mind to convey the words. She didn't press it, curling closer to him and him to her.

"Good night, Jimmy..."

He only nodded once more, everything slowly fading away as sleep claimed his body and mind.

For a moment it seemed that he hadn't slept a wink as his brain jolted awake suddenly, even though his eyes did not open and his limbs refused to move. The disorientation of sleep began to ebb away after a few more moments of laying there, before he finally was able to open his eyes. The first thing he noticed was just how goddamn hot he felt. Accompanying the sweltering conditions, his clothing seemed to be sticking to him too.

Sitting up, he glanced down at himself, confused as to why he was in his pjs, his confusion only growing when he looked up to see he was back in Richard's room. Without thought, he rubbed an eye to get rid of some of the sleep, slightly startled to feel dampness on his fist. Rubbing his other eye, he produced the same result.

He'd been crying last night, but by now it should've dried...

'Of course it's not dry,' he thought after another moment collecting himself, feeling bitter for it, 'It was a stupid dream...'

That was unusual. His dreams about Rachel usually had him in his normal body. He wasn't sure what it meant that he'd dreamed about her and himself in his current body. Getting to his feet, and feeling all the more awful that he dreamed that (and even more awful that he'd wished it had been real), he folded and put away the futon then began getting dressed.

Walking out into the kitchen to see what Rachel had cooked for breakfast, he was met with a warm smile.

"Good morning, Conan!" she chirped, busying herself at the stove.

"Morning," he mumbled. He should have put on a happy face and dealt with the reality, but that dream had felt so damn real. He was just too drained to do it properly at the moment. Rachel noticed instantly, eyebrows drawing up as she approached the table and leaned down a little.

"What's wrong Conan? Are you okay?" she asked, very clearly looking worried.

"...I didn't sleep very well last night," was his response, tossing in a yawn for added believability. He was sure the response was going to be something mildly scolding, perhaps for staying up late reading. When there was no reprimand, Conan glanced up at her. She looked to be in thought, eyes focused on a point elsewhere in the room as she pressed her hand to her mouth. After a beat she sighed a little, still looking worried.

"It was the heat, wasn't it? I had a little trouble sleeping too because of it," she said, looking apologetic as she turned her gaze back onto him. "I'll talk to Dad about getting you guys a fan or something."

Conan nodded, looking back down at the table as he waited for breakfast to be served. Without warning, Rachel was kneeling next to him, leaning over to press a kiss to his temple, the gesture turning the detective bright red. Before he could stutter out a response, she pulled away and stood up.

"It'll work out okay, Conan," she said with a smile. "Keep your chin up, okay? We'll figure out this mess." With nothing else to add, she turned back away and went to the stove, tending to the meal. Conan stared after her, face still warm as he tried to catch up with what had just happened.

Despite the weirdness of the dream last night and the baffling similarity to what dream Rachel had said, he felt...oddly better from her reassurance. Even if he wasn't sure that the reassurance had meant to give him hope for a cure and a way to take down the organization. It was a mystery, but one he was willing to leave alone for right now.