DISCLAIMER:The entire Detective Conan series, including its characters, belong to Gosho Aoyama. This is a non-profit fan work.

The elephant in the room

Sherry rested a hand on Gin's forehead. Luckily enough, she found it just as warm as she had wished it to be. A fever was the last thing he needed at the moment – or one of the last things.

'Cool as a cucumber,' she concluded.

Gin grinned.

'Good news, isn't it?'

'I think so.' Sherry shrugged her shoulders. 'How's your headache?'

'Still terribly strong,' he answered. 'I feel less dizzy, though.'

'You can't go to work like this,' she assessed. 'If you haven't improved by tomorrow morning, you'd better take the day off.'

'It's only a bad cold,' Gin protested. 'I've been to work today and survived. And survival is quite an accomplishment when dealing with armed gangsters.'

Sherry stood up and gave the assassin that lay on her couch the fiercest look she was capable of.

'Very funny,' she replied. 'I'm serious, Gin. What if you have a car accident because your headache does not let you concentrate on driving? And that's besides the pain you'd be in for the entire working day…'

'Okay, I'll stay in,' he agreed, extending his right hand on the air as some sort of white flag. His left hand hurried to rub his temples. 'I'm not exactly in the best state to argue. But at least,' he added, glancing up at Sherry and giving her the hint of a smile, 'I'm in the best hands possible.'

The scientist felt an instant wave of heat rush up to her cheeks at his words. Gin, obviously noticing, widened his smile.

'I'm not 'the best hands possible,' to use your words,' she replied, hurrying to cross her arms before her chest – either to shield it from her boyfriend's compliments or to conceal her flustered heartbeat, she didn't know. 'That would be a physician, which I am not. And I hope you're not intending me to stay here tomorrow taking care of you from sunrise to sunset.'

'You know I'm not,' Gin responded with a calm tone. 'You go to work as always, don't worry – I can take care of myself. Actually, I'd better be going, don't you think?' Still with a gentle smile on his face, he pressed his elbows against the cushions and sat up on the couch. 'It's been nice to have dinner with you, but I should go home and have a good night's rest…'

'No!' Sherry exclaimed. She froze in place – had she just begged him to stay like a blushing shoujo heroine? 'I mean – it's late, and dark, and it could be dangerous to drive in your state. It'd be better for you to spend the night here. I won't mind.'

That sounded better.

'What a fuss,' Gin commented with an amused laugh. 'I'll stay, okay.' His whole body tensed up for a second and he closed his eyes. Sherry approached him.

'Is it your head again?' she asked. He nodded. 'I'll get you a painkiller.'

'I'll get it myself,' he replied. His figure relaxed and fell onto the cushions. 'Do you have any tea?'

Sherry blinked in amazement.

'Tea?'

'Green tea with sugar always helps me feel less dizzy,' he explained. 'I don't know why. Maybe it's some sort of placebo. Anyway – could you make me a cup of green tea?'

Sherry nodded.

'Alright.' She turned and started walking towards the kitchen. 'There are some painkillers in my purse,' she added, pointing to the table where it rested. 'In a flask in a big pocket. How much sugar do you want?'

'Two spoonfuls, thank you.'

As soon as she walked back into the living room, luckwarm mug of tea in hand, she found Gin lying back on the couch. She couldn't help a grin. Leaving the mug on the first firm surface she came upon, she approached him silently and bent down.

'Wakey wakey…' she whispered. 'Your tea's ready…'

Gin opened his eyes and blinked a few times as he sat up. He stared at Sherry for a moment and then glanced around the room.

'What?' he muttered.

'I said your tea is ready,' she repeated, still in a low voice.

'No, after that.'

Sherry's hand froze in the air, halfway towards the arm of the couch. Could she have misheard him?

'I… I said nothing after that.'

'Yes, you did. Something about lemons.'

What?

'I did not.' Sherry placed both her hands on the couch and tried her best to stay calm. Gin turned his face to her and she seized the chance to study him. He looked perfectly awake and…

'When did you change your clothes?'

Sherry's train of thought came to a rought halt.

'I have not changed my clothes.'

'Yes, you have,' he claimed with a nod. 'This dress is of a brighter blue. Very bright, actually. But I like the stripes.'

Sherry looked down at her dress, of a perfectly pale blue and with no stripes at all. She struggled not to rub her eyes. During her silence, Gin stretched his arm and grabbed her right sleeve.

'It's very soft, too,' he commented with a dreamy voice. 'Nearly as much as the blanket.'

'What blanket?'

'The one on the couch. The one that was covering me.'

Sherry's eyes scanned the couch, only to confirm what she already knew – there was no blanket on or near it. At all. Not one in the entire living room.

'It smells like you,' Gin went on. 'It was nice to lie under that blanket while you made the tea. It's been very nice of you to make me some tea.'

'… it was nothing.'

'Although that painkiller tasted horribly. And my headache has not gone away yet.'

The painkiller. An idea popped up in Sherry's mind. Could that weird behavior be nothing more than its side effect? She stood straight and tried to walk to the table, but Gin clutched her wrist before she could take a single step.

'Where are you going?' he asked.

'I was… going to check that painkiller. To see how long it will take before your headache goes away.'

'I don't care about the headache!' he retorted with an affected tone. 'Please stay with me. Please – only until I fall asleep. Will you?'

Sherry hesitated. She was dying to find the flask in her purse and learn how long Gin could go on with that nonsense, and yet… the hurt look of his green eyes…

'I will,' she agreed, sitting down on one arm of the couch. A wide, child-like smile brightened his face. 'I'll stay with you until you fall asleep.'

'Thank you!' he chimed. 'You're the best!'

Still holding onto her, Gin lay down on the couch with his face turned to Sherry. No sooner than his head touched the cushions, he closed his eyes.

It took Sherry a long while to gather the courage to free her wrist from Gin's grasp. Luckily enough, he did not notice and simply went on sleeping. When she turned her back to him, her gaze ran into the mug of green tea. She ignored it and hurried towards the table.

Gin woke up after what seemed like a century. He stood up and scratched his head. Sherry took a deep breath, waiting for him to see her – which took him about half a minute.

'Oh, hi,' he muttered. 'Sorry I fell asleep on your couch. How long has it been?'

'Was it this flask?'

Gin blinked. Sherry, unable to hold herself any longer, had extended her arm towards him. She held a white flask on her hand.

'What?'

'The painkiller you took,' she specified. 'It was in a flask which you found in my purse. The flask, was it this one?'

'No,' he answered. 'That was not…'

Sherry held a second flask up.

'Was it this one?'

Gin's confused look died away, being replaced by some sudden clarity.

'Yes! That one! I found it weird that it was so white and plain.'

'And do you remember what happened after you took it?'

'What?'

'Do you?' she insisted.

'I lay on the couch,' he answered. 'And… fell asleep, I think, because I had a very strange dream, of you wearing a bright blue dress and talking about lemons and acting weird…'

Sherry struggled not to let out a curse. Finally.

'That was not a dream,' she started, bracing herself for what she knew came next. 'Gin, the pill you took was not a painkiller – it was a hallucinogen.'

Gin opened his eyes wide.

The following morning, a laboratory assistant opened the cabinet for stimulating subtances and found it one flask emptier than it should be. Checking the previous day's experiments mentally, the assistant walked past a nearby young scientist, whose cheeks turned nearly as reddish as her short brown hair when their eyes met…

Author's notes:

¡Hola! Hello! Hallo! こんにちは! Salut! Here comes Sherry Furude once more, ready for attack!

Surprisingly enough, this fic wasn't written for a request of any sort. The inspiration for it came to me when re-watching (for the umpteenth time) a chapter of the BBC series Sherlock, "The Hounds of Baskerville" (the second chapter of the second season) – which I highly recommend, by the way. This happened on May 5th, but it wasn't until July 26th that I could write down the fic. At first, my finals were what kept me away from the keyboard, and then, when I finally had some free time, my pending requests had priority. And right before I could start writing this fic, I had to look up a bit on drug-induced hallucinations. But here we are at last!

The title to this fic is a bit of a pun. It comes to a point where Gin's hallucinations are 'the elephant in the room,' something very obvious but which Sherry does not really dare to discuss. And also, even though Gin's visual hallucinations are of a different kind, it's some sort of trope or even cliché for intoxicated characters to see 'pink elephants' and such.

Thank you everyone for reading this fic. I hope you enjoyed it! If you find any kind of mistake, please do not hesitate to tell me. I would also be very glad to read your opinions on the fic. With your feedback, you all can help me become a better writer.

Lots of love and see you next time!

Sherry F.