Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who or Magic Kaito.

Yay for LJ comments? This was inspired so long ago, and then on a down moment in Japan I started typing it up. Just found the file and finished it up. All Leonawriter's fault. Does not tie in with Time and Space... maybe. Probably. Possibly. In the way that Toichi is probably not like Jack, but I'm keeping my options open.


It was a chilly night on the roof, a light breeze tugging at the cape of the person in white. He shivered slightly and wondered if his pinstriped companion was also cold. He certainly didn't show it, merely stared up at the sky as if he knew every wonder that was up there, and some that no longer were. Smiling softly, and thinking he understood what he really didn't, he reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a sparkling emerald, holding it aloft.

"It isn't Pandora," the pinstriped one said before the emerald had truly caught the moonlight.

The thief started at that, faltering. "How do you know that? And how do you know what Pandora is anyway?"

"Prometheus, the god who created humans, felt sorry for his pitiful creations when they were compared to the animals created by his brother Epimetheus, so he stole fire from the gods to keep them warm at night and to use as a tool. Zeus wasn't pleased at that. As punishment Prometheus was chained to a rock, cursed to have his innards pecked out by an eagle every day, only for them to grow back at night so that the eagle could come back in the morning, and he created Pandora. He gave her both unlimited curiosity and a box that she was warned never to open. He then gifted her to a man, typical. Eventually Pandora could not stand it any longer and opened the box, thus letting out all the ills of the world. Then she quickly closed the box before Hope escaped. That is the story of Pandora's Box."

"That has absolutely nothing to do with the Pandora I'm looking for."

The pinstriped man looked at him. "Oh really?" He then looked up, and pointed at a comet flying across the sky. "See that comet? That used to be a planet, Gallifrey was its name. But then its sun was destroyed, and it was sent spinning off into space, burnt beyond recognition." A single tear slipped down the man's face. "It was destroyed by nightmares, and hell, and only one person could stop it. Could keep the hell from destroying the universe."

The thief's eyes widened, his mind spinning. "How old are you?" he asked quietly.

"Very, very old."

"You're Pandora." It was a statement, not a question.

"Yes. I'm not quite sure how that story started, but I am. Something to not look forward to, I suppose." The man turned from the sky and looked his companion in the eye. "Now that you know, will you give up your quest? Shed the cape for good?"

"I can't. My father's murderers are still out there. They might figure it out too and come after you. Or they might not, and hurt more innocent people anyway."

"Oh, no one can ever catch me. Not for long anyway. But still, a good reason. But," his voice quieted, but traveled far, "Will you have no regrets? No matter what happens?"

The thief chuckled softly, slipping the emerald back into his breast pocket. "Sometimes we must teach ourselves to ignore the consequences, no matter how dire. Because sometimes a terrible cost must be paid, sooner or later. We cannot regret if we couldn't live with ourselves if we didn't."

"I only hope that this is important enough for the regrets," the pinstriped man said, as if he knew something the other didn't, something terrible.

"Sometimes a trick goes wrong, but you must never let the audience know that. Always keep a good poker face, because the show must go on."

The pinstriped man sighed, clearly fighting with himself. Finally he spoke again. "January 3rd, six years from now. Don't do it."

"Don't do what?" the thief questioned.

The other man stared at him, endless depths in sad eyes. "You'll know when you get there."

The thief smirked, making to jump. "I guess I will." And with that last sentence he was gone, carried off on the wind. And a sad, lonely old man turned away from another tragedy.


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