I wrote DC fanfiction. I wanted to. THAT'S WHY!

Summary: Conan, depressed for various, and obvious, reasons, is hauled off to Osaka by Heiji for some fun in the sun; whether he wants to or not. And then he gets kidnapped! WOO!

Warnings: Language, suggestive crap, VERY mild shounen-ai (as in so tiny, you must squint).

Pairings (sorta): Heiji/Conan, and later Kid/Conan. More friendship than anything else. Don't expect anything very exciting -laughs-.

Word Count: 4,383

Chapters: TWO. Not three, not four. So don't ask.

Enjoy, mon ami's!


Heat of the Moment

Conan cracked open his eyes blearily, having been rudely awakened by the sound of furious thudding on a door. Assuming it was the front door and not his own - and therefore not his responsibility to answer- he rolled over with a groan, burying his face into his pillow. He tucked his arm under the cool side of the soft cushion, jerking his hand back towards his chest when his fingers rustled against something. Touching the piece of paper tentatively, he assumed it was nothing of importance-as he had many such sheets of paper strewn about, so it wasn't really surprising to find one or two in his futon- and brushed it aside carelessly.

Exhausted from a recent bout of insomnia, coupled with the frequent cases he worked on, whether Kogoro liked him to or not, Conan would've gladly dozed until noon, perhaps longer, had it not been for the unexpected, and undesired, visitor who continued to mercilessly pound on the woodwork.

At last, he heard Ran open the door, greeting and silencing the insistent door-abuser. He was about to drift off again when her shrill voice broke through the quiet of the room, grating viciously against his ears.

"Conan-kun! Wake up, sleepy-head!"

The little detective screwed his eyes tighter, pulling the sheets over his head.

"Ran, Ran, go away," he muttered pleadingly, "please just let me sleep today…"

His prayers went unheard; Ran opened the door, bright-eyed and cheerful. She grasped his shoulders, shaking him soundly until at last he sat up, rubbing his fists in his eyes.

"Come on, Conan-kun! Get up and get dressed. We have a visitor here to see us!"

At that, Hattori Heiji peered around the doorframe, ginning at Conan. He tipped his cap at the sleep-addled seven-year-old.

"C'mon, Ku-kid! Get up! Up and at 'em! Let's go!"

As Ran turned her back on Conan, the detective gave Heiji a dirty look, flipping him the bird in the process. If possible, Heiji's grin spread even further across his face; there was just something so cute, wrong, and all around hilarious about a little kid giving someone the finger.

Waving amiably, the dark-skinned teen wandered away, following Ran into the next room.

Giving his cushy pillow a last rueful glance, Conan untangled his short legs from the sheets, yawning and stretching before stumbling wearily out of Kogoro's room and down the hall towards the washroom, cursing Heiji under his breath all the way. He could hear Ran and Heiji chatting animatedly. While he normally would've ignored their conversation, imagining it to be pointless and uninteresting, at the mention of his alias his curiosity was mildly aroused and he slowed his pace considerably, listening intently.

"I'm really glad you came over, Heiji-kun. I'm sure Conan missed you," Ran was saying. Her smile was practically audible.

"Not a problem!" Heiji replied. "S'been awhile since I last spent some time with the kid, and I just happened to be in the neighborhood, so I thought 'why not stop by?'"

Conan rolled his eyes, standing on his toes and reaching for his toothbrush. 'In the neighborhood, huh?' he scoffed disbelievingly to himself. 'I doubt it. You only drop by when you want to drag me off somewhere to solve a case'. More often than not, the thought of having a mystery to solve would cheer him up, but Conan was in high bad mood.

He paused with his hand on the faucet handle, waiting pensively for Rans' reply.

"I appreciate it, really, no matter the reason," Ran insisted. She lowered her voice, and Conan had to strain his ears to hear what else she had to say. "Actually, you couldn't have come at a better time. I'm worried about Conan; he hasn't been himself for a while. I'm afraid that all the murders he's been witness to are finally getting to him. Or perhaps he misses his family," she added thoughtfully. "He's just been so quiet and aloof…"

That was enough for Conan; scowling at his reflection, he turned on the water to block out anymore of the conversation and brushed his teeth rapidly. He was surprisingly annoyed by Ran's concern. There was no way she had any inkling of what he was feeling, the pains he was putting himself through to keep her safe and recover his old body in the process. She might be upset about never seeing Shinichi, but the real Shinichi was always right under her nose, watching her fret about him everyday. And there was nothing he could do to comfort her, aside from the occasional phone call. Which made his life living hell.

Dressing quickly and not bothering to plaster on a fake smile, Conan collapsed on the couch next to Ran, raising his hand briefly in greeting to Heiji. He stared dully into the tabletop, his small shoulders hunched dejectedly; he unremittingly ignored the anxious looks they shot him and each other.

"I see what ya mean," the young Osaka detective mumbled to Ran.

Conan grunted crossly, turning onto his stomach and facing away from his friends with his chin resting on his folded hands. In turning away from them, he missed the determined look Ran abruptly acquired; she strode in to the kitchen, crooking her finger at Heiji, who silently rose to join her in a whispered conference.

His mind wandering aimlessly, Conan didn't bother to attempt to listen in this time, at least not diligently, sighing to himself. However, the detective in him instinctively noted that the two teenagers were arguing about something; he heard a loud thwack, like that of wood striking a hard surface, and got an image of Ran glaring fiercely at Heiji, brandishing a broom handle like a samurai warrior.

The corners' of Conan's lips momentarily and automatically quirked as he thought about similar threats he'd received from the violent girl currently demanding something or other of Heiji.

"Alright, jeez, I'll do it!" Heiji's voice rose loud enough for Conan to hear him clearly, high-pitched and panicky. "No need to threaten me! Hey! I'm goin', ya don't have to shove!"

At last, Heiji stumbled into view, glaring over his shoulder at Ran. Then he straightened up and put on a charming smile, kneeling down in front of Conan.

The little detective, his mind striving for a distraction from his despondent thoughts, took a moment to apathetically observe the dark- skinned man's attire. 'White shirt, green jacket, jeans,' Conan thought, eyes listlessly roving up and down his frame. 'How terribly exciting; I hope he doesn't plan on taking me anywhere, because I'm not moving if I can help it.'

Despite his smirk, Heiji's expression was gentle.

"What's up, Kudo?" he asked in a low tone, for once mindful of Ran, who was waiting fretfully in the kitchen, fervently hoping that Conan would be back to his old self soon.

"The sky, the ceiling, birds…" Conan muttered flatly, eyes unfocused at his stared through Heiji.

Heiji rolled his eyes. "Ha ha. So why the long face?" he pressed.

"Normally, I'd blame genetics. However, I happen to think my face is fine, and quiet handsome in fact," Conan shot back stoically. Usually, such a statement would've made Heiji laugh, but the miserable tension that hung about his small companion and his lifeless tone warned him that there was definitely something wrong.

"Seriously, Kudo, what's wrong?" Heiji frowned at the sullen boy.

Flopping onto his back, Conan draped an arm over his eyes. "Nothing is really wrong in particular…then again, nothing is really right either. Just…nothing…"

'Jeez, depressing much?' Heiji thought. It killed him to see his comrade in detection so upset and morose, and he made a snap decision to do anything he could to break Conan out of his funk.

"Alright. That's it. No more Mr. Nice-Guy," Heiji growled, his jaw clenched determinedly.

"Wha-?" Conan had barely registered what the Osaka detective had said before he was scooped up into his arms. Letting out a startled yelp, he gasped as Heiji jostled him, tucking him securely against his side before marching out the front door.

"'Bye, Ran!" Heiji called out, "I'll bring him back later when we're done!"

Alarmed, Conan struggled madly in Heiji's grip, to no avail. "What!? Done with what exactly!? Where are you taking me!? Ran-neechan!" he cried desperately, arms reaching out to her in a plea for help. He might as well have been talking to himself, as his protests fell on deaf ears.

The early morning sun shone cheerily, glinting off various buildings and vehicles on the street; birdsong mingled with the rustle of a cool breeze rushing through leafy treetops.

The only thing breaking the quiet of the pleasant morn was the seemingly young boy held captive in the arms of his companion, angrily making his opposition to the situation known with assorted curses and hostile threats.

"Put me down, Hattori Heiji!" Conan snarled, kicking his short legs frantically, arms flailing, further infuriated by the frail body he was trapped within that drastically limited his abilities and thus prevented his escape. "I mean it, you bastard! Let me go!" 



'Aside from the swearin' and the fact that I know he's really seventeen, he's very much a child when he doesn't get his way', Heiji mused, simply shifting his weight slightly so that Conan was jammed even tighter between his arm and side.

"Oh, quit your wailin', Kudo, and stop thrashin' about or I'll drop ya!" Heiji snapped impatiently, flicking Conan's forehead. "This is for your own good! Stop yellin', people are starting to stare!"

The little detective ignored him, biting his arm and kicking him violently. "Kidnapper! Pedophile! You'll regret this, Hattori, I swear it, you will!" he spat.

'Pedophile?' Heiji thought, 'how am I a pedophile? Technically, we're the same age…''

It wasn't long before Conan finally calmed down, worn out both from his struggles and lack of sleep. "Fine, alright, you win, Hattori…" he mumbled resignedly. "Put me down already."

Heiji gave him a long, pitying look. "How dumb do ya think I am?"

Conan, draped limply in his arm, sighed. "Pretty dumb. But I'm obviously not going to go anywhere until you get your way, so I'd like to walk now. I'm not a child."

Snorting, Heiji carefully lowered the boy to the ground, holding his smaller hand securely in his own. Conan tried to pull his fingers away, but it was like tugging on the leash of an angry rottweiler; useless.

"Not gonna happen, Kudo," Heiji shook his head. "Not lettin' you go 'till we get to Osaka."

"What?" Conan gaped at him. "Osaka? Why!? Let me go home, I'm not in the mood for this!" He began his struggles anew, yanking on Heiji's arm, frantically trying to free himself.

"Damn it!" Exasperated, Heiji released Conan, only to grab him under his arms and lift him up, setting him firmly down on a wall-top. He leaned in close until his face was mere inches away from Conan's. "Look, you pain in my butt, I'm trying to help ya! Stop being so difficult!"

"Help me with what? I don't need help," said Conan stubbornly, crossing his arms and looking away from Heiji - just like a little kid.

Shaking his head despairingly, Heiji said, "Look, I may not know exactly what's wrong with ya, and right now I don't particularly care. Your bad attitude is upsettin' everyone else around ya! Now, stop actin' like a brat and act like the Shinichi we all know and love, alright!?"

Shocked, Conan could only stare dumbly as Heiji swung him up onto his shoulders, holding his legs to keep him steady. He resumed walking while Conan thought hard about what he had said, and what to say in response.

Thoroughly chastised, he huffed, jadedly resting his head on Heiji's and circling his short arms around his neck for support.

Heiji was wary though; the little detective could feel it in the tension of his shoulders and the unyielding grip on his legs.

Realizing he'd made an ass of himself and hoping to make up for it while still hanging on to his last shred of dignity, Conan said lightly, "So why are you taking me to Osaka?" He absentmindedly played with Heiji's hair while he waited for a response.

Convinced at last that Conan wasn't going to make a break for it, the tension eased out of Heiji and he smiled slightly at the boy perched on his shoulders.

"For some fun, of course. God knows you could use some right about now."

"Really?" Conan raised his eyebrows, remarking airily with a smirk, "And here I thought there was another case you wanted me to solve for you."

Scowling at the taunt, Heiji grumbled, "No, it's not another case. And I don't think I'll be calling on ya again to help me with one. Especially when ya act like someone shoved a stick up your butt." Inwardly, he was pleased that Conan had relaxed some and seemed willing enough to go along with him; for now, at least.

"But why Osaka?" the little detective persisted. "I hate that damn place…"

"Why, 'cause I live there?" Heiji asked, smiling again. Before Conan could reply, he added, "Quite the little foul mouth today, aren't ya?"

"What's it to you?"

"It doesn't bother me, but I'd suggest ya tone it down a bit, alright?" he warned. "Remember, I'm the only one here that knows you're Shinichi Kudo. To everyone else, you're Conan, a little kid, and if anyone gets in trouble for your lack of censorship, it's gonna be me."

"Screw you," Conan sneered, just as a woman passed by; she shot Conan a stunned look, and then glared at Heiji when he didn't immediately rebuke him.

"Oi, either watch yer mouth or keep it shut," Heiji growled, frowning back at the disapproving woman.


It wasn't until they actually reached Osaka that Heiji released his captive, setting him down and ushering him inside a quaint looking restaurant.

"I'm not hungry," Conan complained, though he didn't resist Heiji as he shoved him forward, taking a seat on the dark red booth cushion. The Osaka detective slid in next to him, either to annoy him to or make sure he didn't try to escape. "Untrusting," Conan sniffed, assuming the later.

"Of course I trust you. And you might not be hungry, but I am, so don't complain."

Heiji replied.

After ordering his sushi and some sake, he nudged Conan, who'd been staring across the table, lost in his own thoughts.

"So, c'mon, Kudo, out with it."

"Hmm?" Conan glanced up at his fellow detective. "Out with what?"

"What's got yer panties in a twist today?"

Conan rolled his eyes. "How eloquent. But, if you really must know, it's rather obvious." He began ticking off the reasons on his fingers. "There haven't been any recent leads on the Black Organization, so I'm still stuck in this miniscule form. And then there's Ran; I have to spend every day in her presence without being able to talk to her, really talk to her, as Shinichi. I can't tell her who I am, I can't tell her how I feel, and I can't even tell her that Shinichi is ok for sure!" His voice rose louder and louder until he was shouting his frustrations, eyes narrowed fiercely at Heiji.

"Easy, relax, Kudo!" Heiji held up with hands in a 'calm down' gesture, glancing about nervously; the restaurant was relatively empty, and those who were within hadn't noticed Conan's outburst.

Sighing miserably, Conan rested his forehead against the cool tabletop.

Heiji was silent for so long afterwards, the little detective assumed he wasn't going to respond. Then, Heiji turned to him with a grin.

"So…basically you're confused, short, and horny? I can see why yer so upset."

Conan didn't rise to the bait, mumbling to the table, "Not the way I'd put it, but yes."

"Man, that sucks, Kudo," Heiji closed his eyes, shaking his head pityingly.

"Tell me about it…"

"And even if ya could tell her, there's nothing you could do…"

"Yeah…"

"In that body of yours…you must have one tiny-" Heiji broke off as Conan leapt up, grabbing his jacket and leaning in so close their noses touched.

"Finish that sentence, and I will kill you, Hattori!" he spat, teeth bared and eyes narrowed wrathfully behind his glasses.

Shoulders shaking with helpless mirth and grinning apologetically, Heiji grasped his little friends' arms and pushed him gently away, afraid that Conan might try to bite his nose off if he didn't.

"Take it easy! I'm sorry, I couldn't help myself," Heiji snickered, sounding distinctly impenitent, as Conan reluctantly returned to his place.

"Sorry my ass…" Conan ground out. He would've continued on with another session of angry swearing, but the waitress returned with Heiji's order, and he didn't want to frighten her; it's not often you get to hear a seven-year-old curse like a sailor, after all.

As Heiji ate, watching Conan out of the corner of his eye for any impromptu escape attempts, the little detective wondered what lay in store for him. Where was he being taken? And why was Heiji so determined to cheer him up? Did he really care that much? Or was this all an elaborate trick to get him to some crime scene that he obviously didn't want to go to?

Conan folded his arms on the table, resting his head on them and sulking. 'If it really is a case, then I'm going home; let Hattori figure it out for himself, I'm not in the mood.'

As though Conan had spoken his thoughts out loud, Heiji said, "Stop moping, Kudo. It's not a case. You're here to enjoy yourself, and I'm here to make sure ya do."

Without replying, Conan reached for Heiji's cup of sake, pulling it to himself and swallowing down the contents.

"Could you at least try to act like a kid?" Heiji pleaded, snatching the cup back and refilling it for himself, making sure to keep it out of his companions' reach.

"Where precisely are you going to make me enjoy myself?" Conan asked, ignoring his friends' last comment as he leaned back and closed his eyes.

"The beach," Heiji said around a mouth full of squid.

Wrinkling his nose in disgust, Conan grumbling incoherently to himself, something about hot sand, salty water and a severe lack of pretty women.

Heiji shrugged. "I don't wanna spend too much money. So either shut yer trap and be happy, or I'll violently beat some happiness into ya."

"Good plan. Come up with it all on your own did you?"

Heiji glowered at the smirking boy. "Or perhaps I'll just kick your ass now and be done with it…"

After paying, the dark-skinned detective grabbed Conan by the collar of his jacket, hauling him bodily out of his seat and carrying him outside.

"Oi, I can walk, you jerk!" He swung his little fists at Heiji until he set him down, catching one of the boys' hands as it struck at him. "And stop holding my hand, I don't like you like that!"

"Feisty today," Heiji remarked calmly. "This day will go by quicker if ya stop resisting and relax, you know."

Shoulders slumping with defeat, Conan walked sullenly at Heiji's side, hand in hand, all the while mumbling mutinously under his breath.


"So what happened to not wanting to spend money, Hattori?" Conan asked while he held up a pair of brand-new, dark blue swim shorts, examining them doubtfully before donning them. Hattori was shrugging off his jacket while stuffing Conan's clothes into a locker.

They were in a small locker room located on the end of the Osaka beach; Conan had suggested they change at Heiji's home, but his fellow detective had reminded him that he lacked proper swimwear and, much to Conan's chagrin, had to take him to buy him some, with mixed results.

"Well, contrary to yer own twisted belief of my supposed pedophilia, I don't exactly hoard little boys' clothes at my place," Heiji replied, his voice muffled as he yanked his shirt over his head, knocking his cap off in the process.

Tossing the hat at Heiji, the little detective glanced down at his shorts - so long they almost hit his knees-, and fiddled with the edges of them apprehensively.

"…Well, did you have to get the pair with little flowers?"

Heiji grinned roguishly at him, turning his cap backwards and straightening his shorts, which were dark green and pattern-less. "I thought the pink ones were tacky; the blue ones with white flowers compliment you better. So cute."

"At long last, I have solid proof that you are gay," Conan retorted, taking little offense to his friends' jibe; banter like this was common for them, and it had actually raised his spirits some. "I can't wait to tell Kazuha."

"Go ahead, she's suspected it fer years anyway," Heiji said, smiling disarmingly at him. Scratching the back of his head, he slammed the locker door shut, chuckling. "In fact, I still can't get her to think otherwise. Maybe I should live up to it and kiss some guy in front of her. Claim that I'm tired of living a lie."

Laughing, Conan followed Heiji out onto the hot sand, weaving around groups of people scattered about on the beach. "Anything to get a rise out of her, eh?"

"But of course! It's a favorite hobby of mine." Heiji glanced over his shoulder at his miniscule companion, who trailed behind him to avoid the much larger people dashing about in front of Heiji. "By the way, why are you wearing your shoes?"

"Because I can, and the sand is hot." While replying, Conan sped up a bit to avoid being crushed as a large teenager ran past, laughing.

Heiji snorted. "Makes ya look like a total nerd."

"Thanks," Conan said sarcastically. "What are you, the fashion police or a detective?"

He didn't get a reply, as Heiji suddenly stopped and he ran into his backside. Shaking his head, Conan shoved him none to lightly, though it had no effect on the dark-skinned teen.

"Oi, get your butt out of my face, Hattori!" Conan dodging around his friend, prepared to confront him for stopping so abruptly.

He never got a chance to say more; as soon as he stepped out in front of Heiji, the bulky teenager that had sped by before collided with him, his knee smashing into the side of the little detectives' head and knocking his glasses askew.

Conan cried out, swearing as he sat in the sand and held his bruised skull, glaring through one eye at the boys' retreating form; he hadn't even slowed down to see what he'd crashed into.

"Hey, watch where you're going, bastard!" he snarled furiously.

The rude teenager skidded to a halt and turned, glancing about until his eyes locked on him: stomping back over to where Conan sat, nursing his swollen temple, he loomed aggressively over the boy.

"What'd you say!?" the teen growled; he was so heavily built his shadow spread completely over Conan and beyond.

Forgetting how much smaller he was than the young man towering over him, and caught up in the heat of the moment, Conan replied just as belligerently, "I said, watch where you're going, you bastard!"

"You'll regret saying that, brat!" The burly teen, face contorted with rage, reached down to grab the impudent child that would dare insult him.

Too late, Conan realized his mistake; he held an arm up, his eyes closing unconsciously, in a feeble attempt to protect himself from whatever retaliation the enraged man would surely bring down on his frail body…


Will Conan get the snot beat out of him for mouthing off to the big angry beach-bum? Find out in the next chapter, in which Kid will appear! Yay!

I'll try to update within at least two weeks. Word of honor. Now...

Please excuse my lack of knowledge about:

-Japanese etiquette, terms, drinking laws (for Heiji-kun's sake), etc.

-Stuff that has happened in DC; I'm very behind, but I dearly loves Kid, Heiji and Shinichi/Conan, and any pairing involving the three (or four, if Conan is to be considered someone else).

And any grammar mistakes/ character oopsies, I'd be eternally grateful if you'd point it out.

Merci for reading, and I'd love to hear your thoughts!

~SS