Title: Waiting

Author: ChibiRaccoon

Pairing: ShinichixRan

Genre: Romance

Notes: WAS ORGINALLY A ONE-SHOT. WILL HAVE A SECOND CHAPTER!

Haven't written for these two in a long time and I am aware that the chance that they are OOC is kinda high but this takes place in the future so I believe we can allow for some leeway. Try not to be harsh okay? It took a lot to pick up the pen and write for them again.

Disclaimer: I'm sure that in some alternate reality I live in a beautiful little house, with a green yard, little dog, a white picket fence and Kudo Shinichi is my adoring husband. Sadly that's not true in this reality to let's get over it. NO. Detective Conan and all of it's amazing glory doesn't belong to me. T_T

Waiting

Four years.

It took four torturous years.

Finding a cure, revealing the head of the dark syndicate, bringing their crimes to light, and putting them away.

It took him four years.

Four years before he could return. To her.

She said she would wait.

But when he appeared before her, healthy, able, real, She hadn't been alone.

And as he cooly brushed the exchange away and turned from her, his heart, already in such a fragile state, completely shattered.

.xXx.

Kudo Shinichi returned home late that evening. His mansion home was grim in the dark hour, shadows creeping in the lawn. His lanky frame was tilted slightly, like a wilting flower, portraying the exhaustion he felt. As he shuffled past the front door he lazily kicked off his shoes, undoing the plain red tie at this throat. He slipped his feet into slippers and stopped in his living room to drape his coat on the armchair there. The briefcase under his arm followed him to the study on the second floor where it made an echoing thud when it hit the surface of the grand desk that decorated the middle of the large plush green rug.

The restored young man dropped himself into the high-backed leather office chair he kept there. He groaned, his fore and middle fingers rubbing circles along his temple. Cases had a euphoric effect on him generally yet there was a case, every once in awhile that would only serve to depress him. His eyes shut and he took a moment to drop his face into his hands. So tired. He knew he should get started on filing the paperwork from the busy day he'd had but he couldn't seem to muster the strength of will to do it just then.

The house was so quiet, to the point of suffocation. Before his run-in with the Black Organization he had prized the lack of noise and had never been put off by the spacious rooms and halls that made up his childhood home. Being alone never bothered him and the area suited him perfectly for whenever a tough case landed his way and he needed time to work through his thoughts. He had cracked many a mystery in the very room he currently sat in.

Now however... The quiet was deafening. After spending years sleeping in a different bed, a different house, living such a different life, he still found himself having trouble getting comfortable with so much emptiness around him.

He wearily ran long fingers through his messy bangs and his eyes caught the reflection of light on glass. The tall detective stood to walk to the bookcase, reaching into a small cubby between shelves to pick up the glasses that had drawn him there.

The familiarity of the frames in his hands sent a shiver down his spine, a wrench of longing pulling at his heart. In his darkest moments, in the smallest part of his mind he would think to himself., 'I want to go back.' Back to a time when darkness didn't dominate the space around him. When shadows didn't dance in his vision and figures in black didn't haunt his dreams. Back to days when a mere telephone and bowtie were the keys to his happiness. When the days were spent in the company of laughing precocious children, inquisitive police inspectors, and teenagers who wound up in all sorts of strange situations. To a time when clear blue eyes would look in his direction, narrowed with affection, sparkling with excitement, overflowing with tears of joy.

He forced the thoughts out of his head quickly. It didn't do to dwell, just as certainly it wasn't healthy to wish to go back to being four feet tall. He was who he was now and he needed to work for the things he wanted not waste time wishing for them.

Shinichi's mind raced and he recalled the receipt in his pocket. He pulled it out, smoothing the crumpled corners with his thumb. Idly he wondered if she had received the flowers and if so what she made of them. Although he supposed with a exhaustive sigh that she had perhaps become accustomed to the usual bouquet, a brilliant assortment of yellow, orange, and red roses. He sent them on every important date without fail with a simple initialed note. She had yet to respond since their less than perfect reunion two months ago but he still hoped despite the reality she had presented him with.

So what if she was seeing someone?

He was her childhood friend and the man who had sworn to make it back to her. While he respected the boundaries of relationships and love he was determined and had already made clear that he wouldn't be giving her up to any man, not even Araide-senpai without making his own intentions towards her clear. He had told her months ago that he would stop, would give her up, the moment she could tell him she didn't love him. She couldn't. She had admitted as much and her tearful honesty had been all he needed to get the flame of hope in his heart lit. He was going to win her back despite everything that had happened.

Despite the arrangement. Despite her betrayal. Despite it all.

Because he still loved her.

His nocturnal reverie was interrupted by the sound of bells chiming. The doorbell. He glanced at his watch, another keepsake from his Conan days, and his brows drew down. Who would be willing to approach his doorstep at nine-forty at night? Several possibilities shot through his head but were all almost immediately dismissed. Anyone who would be familiar enough to call on him at such an hour would have contacted him first. Haibara and the Professor next door, his parents, Hattori, Kuroba, or even someone from the station. Any one of them would have called.

Curious, he exited the study, readjusting his tie and smoothing his untucked shirt back into his pants. As he approached the front door he caught the sound of a small series of knocks against the wood. His interest spiked. Without bothering to look through the peephole, because now a certain something was pounding in his chest, making him think he might have an idea about the identity of the late-night visitor, he grasped the brass handle. He opened the door and it was like he was seventeen again. Awkward, embarrassed, and still very much in love.

.xXx.

Her long chestnut hair was windswept, falling over her shoulders like a mane. She wore a simple brown cardigan with a denim miniskirt and brown boots. She was breathing hard, an unknown object clutched tightly in her hand.

She didn't say a word. Neither did he for the longest time. Instead he searched her with his piercing gaze, all the while fighting, fighting against the foolish hope that she could possibly be there for the reason he imagined.

He took in her appearance, noticing the collar of her shirt beneath her sweater, the lack of makeup, and the way her chest heaved in perfect sync with her slightly parted lips. Lips that looked so inviting at that moment in time, a dark night with no one else around, no one to answer to.

Finally, after an eternity, he finally settled his eyes on hers. They were the same. So much like the eyes he had known since childhood. Yet there was something in them. A wordless existence that he identified quickly. It was something he himself was familiar with since he saw it whenever he looked in a mirror, coiling in the depths of his eyes, reminding him of darker times with it's ever present gleam.

Grief. Sorrow. Anger. Pain. And something else.

A beautiful mash up of feelings reflected back at him and he suddenly had the urge to grab her. To say to hell with everything and make her his. Exercising a measure of control that frayed at the frail will of his heart he crossed his arms and leaned against the door frame. The detective glared darkly at her. "Make sure you know what it is you want." He warned lowly. "Because the minute you walk through this door I won't care anymore. I won't give a damn. You're mine and I won't be giving you back."

Her expression shifted, the mask she had worn two months ago slipping to nothing as she took a breath and quietly said, "Baka. That's all I've ever wanted."

Karate reflexes be damned. She didn't even see it when he roughly grasped her arm, all but throwing her inside. The door slammed shut and her back hit the wood as he smacked his hands on the oak panelling on either side of her head. There was a single breathless moment when she looked up at him, expression hopeful and pleading, while he gazed back with a dark primal hunger swimming across his features before he locked her lips in a heated kiss.

She had never imagined her first kiss with Shinichi to be like this. In her dreams there had been sweetness, a mutual shy meeting of the lips in soft comfort. She had always thought there would be sun shining, birds singing, and nothing between them but innocent love.

This... This was nothing like her imaginings.

Sweetness was out the window with sunshine and roses in favor of desperate passion, longing, and heat. Her hands were in his hair, his palms sliding down her waist to grip her thighs. He pulled her up and she wrapped her legs around his waist, feverishly moving her lips against his. His tongue assaulted her mouth and she moaned, feeling her eyes roll back. Bliss. Pure, damnable, horrible bliss. Fingers frantically ran the length of her body, uncontrollable in their urge to touch, feel, know her. Too much. It was too much. Beautiful and sad. She turned her head away to hide the tears that had suddenly formed and he responded by moving his fervent caresses to her neck, scraping his teeth against her skin and groaning with her responding shivers. He trailed from the soft skin beneath her chin to the exposed skin of her collarbone before a sound in his ears stopped him cold and he drew his head back.

"Ran?"

"I'm sorry Shinichi." She cried, the tears flowing freely down her cheeks. "I'm so so sorry."

Something cold settled on him like a wave of frigid air. She was still in pain, that much was apparent, and the first move he made was to nearly assault her in his own home.

A hand rose to lay over her mouth while he gently lowered her back onto the floor. A deep welling of affection blossomed and he couldn't quite keep himself from smiling fondly at her. "Idiot." He whispered with a humorless chuckle. "Did you forget?" She gazed up at him, thin brows furrowed slightly, her cheeks flushed, looking adorably confused. "I'm a detective remember? I knew since the moment I saw you again that you would come back."

He could be so eloquent, drawing his words straight to her heart like he had done so many times in the past. For someone who had grown up with her, by her side, his perception of human feelings and actions were so far more advanced than they should have been in someone as young as him. So knowledgable and intelligent. It was hard not to be impressed by Shinichi. His ease with words always managed to reassure her feelings, warming her. He always seemed to grasp the truth in a person before they were able to realize it themselves, especially her. While his words could have been confused with arrogance she took them for what they were. He simply knew her best. The proof of the fact was that he didn't blame her. Even if a part of him was still upset it wasn't directed at her. She knew he shouldered the blame himself. Just as surely as she knew that he had been aware that she would come back to him.

She surprised him then by slowly, deliberately, leaning up to place a single remarkable kiss to his mouth, her thumbs caressing his cheeks gently. She separated from him by only a small margin to whisper, "Welcome home." before she was pressing herself against him and his mind was telling him screw propriety. Dammit he needed this.

Somehow they made it to the living room. Chances of making it up the stairs and to his room were quickly dismissed in favor of the easily accessible parlor. She grappled with his collar until he all but tossed her against the sofa, ridding himself completely of his shirt as her cardigan fell to the floor. He met her again, her hands reaching out to steady him as he leaned over her, their lips locking together. Neither fought the other as they tangled into a mess of limbs and half-murmured words. Their union was less of a fight for dominance and more of a mutual blending fueled by honest feeling. Fire danced between them, licking at the spots where skin met skin, enticing them, pleasantly burning. Soon there was little between them except half-zipped pants and a tank top that was far too thin to be effective.

Rational thought fought for control. This wasn't how he wanted their first time to be. Shinichi wanted to dismiss it, ignore the alarm and simply feel. Any lesser man would have given in and justified it later with the intensity of the moment. Shinichi was not just any man.

He pulled away from her, an action that was by far one of the hardest things he'd ever done. She gasped with his sudden absence, her near naked form flush with sweat, half-lidded eyes gazing up at him. "Shinichi?"

The detective was off the couch and getting dressed in seconds, his back to her. "Gomen Ran."

She sat up, clutching her cardigan to her chest modestly, shoulders quivering with a sudden chill. "B-but why? Shinichi?"

He looked back over his shoulder at her, at the hurt in her expression, the way her dark hair fell over her exposed shoulders, the way her fingers shook against the fabric on her chest. She was everything he wanted. Why was he denying himself the person he'd yearned for after so many years? Why?

"Because..." Ran almost wept to see the honest sheen of truth in his clear eyes. "Because you deserve more than this Ran. I'm not going to do this while we're both..." He trailed off, turning away as his body slumped in exhaustion. She stood and walked to him, bare feet tapping lightly on the floor, until she was laying her cheek on his shoulder and her arms were wrapped around him from behind in a hug. He couldn't see her expression as she spoke but he could feel the tremor of tears against his shoulder blade.

"But I want this."

His resolve almost crumbled then. She was pleading for something that he knew wouldn't be right to give her yet. It was a request from a woman who had been forced to wait entirely too long and who he was now asking to wait even longer.

"Tomorrow." His words flew out in a rush and she lifted her head when he shifted to face her. "At the top floor of the Beika Hotel, like last time... Meet me there. Please. Have dinner with me." He wasn't in the habit of begging, and in fact had never really begged before, not even when his life had been threatened and he had been staring down the barrel of a gun and at a face known for killing. No, not even when facing against the Black Organization, Kudo Shinichi had never begged.

But he was begging now.

Shinichi meant what he said. Ran deserved more than a half-desperate rut on the cushions of his couches in the living room. He didn't want to treat her like just any woman. She should be treated with care. Despite the open strength she showed others he was aware of the fragile nature she kept hidden in her heart. She needed more. She needed someone to love her and he wanted to be the one to love her the way she needed, and wanted to be.

Ran appeared breathless and she said nothing for a long time. She slipped away from him and he stood perfectly still. His expression could almost be called stern but he refused to make a single move until she answered. Her cardigan was replaced around her, concealing the allure of skin that had been distracting him. She held out her hand.

Puzzled, he opened his palm and she handed him a folded piece of paper. He unfolded it, realizing quickly that instead of paper it was the glossy print of a photograph. His eyes grew wide when he saw the picture that had been captured so long ago. The two of them, side by side, smiling together. They had been so young, it had been taken not long after they had started high school. As Conan, Shinichi had gotten a first hand look at the picture a number of times because it had been one of the few pictures Ran bothered to keep on her desk. He had caught her staring at it often in his Conan days, realizing too late how much he really meant to Ran.

Shinichi looked up and it was to see Ran, his Ran, smiling softly at him as she always had. He stared, dumbfounded, as she gave a small laugh and clasped her hands behind her back. "I've already waited four years." She said, voice barely above a whisper. "So waiting a little while longer will be just fine, you know."

His heart leapt and Shinichi couldn't stop himself from reaching out, placing a hand against her face in a caress while the other wrapped around her waist, pulling her against him. Ran matched his gaze with a warm one of her own. When he leaned forward her eyes easily drew down, a low hum of pleasure escaping when he kissed her. Wordlessly they separated and he grabbed her hand, squeezing with reassurance that was as much for him as it was for her. Silently he led her out of the lounge and up the stairs. When they entered his room there were still no spoken words between them. Shinichi opened the closet, grabbing a pair of pajama pants for himself and a shirt and boxer combo for her. Ran took the clothes with a nod of thanks, spinning to face away and removing her skirt. To his credit, Shinichi only glanced back once.

When they were comfortably attired in his pajamas they retired to the bed, both sets of eyes locked in a deep gaze that held so much emotion between them. There was still lust, no small bit of heat, and an abundance of love. There was no guilt, no darkness that threatened to break what they had earned. Tomorrow would be the time to focus on other things but this was the night that belonged to them and only them.

.xXx.

The next morning she awoke from a sleep deeper than she had ever experienced. The covers were pulled up to her shoulders and the curtains had been pulled back. The sky wasn't particularly sunny. There was a blanket of clouds dark enough to promise rain later in the day. Still, there was enough light to illuminate the room and reveal the lack of one young detective. Ran's head drew up, scanning her surroundings and biting her lip. It was clear that the night before couldn't have been a dream yet she couldn't keep herself from feeling a pang in her chest. Rising from the bed she slipped her feet into a pair of slippers that had been tossed on the floor before grabbing her cardigan from where she had lain it on the desk chair. She had managed to lose Shinichi's boxers at some point in the night. She hesitated before shrugging, figuring he wouldn't mind seeing her in just his shirt and her underwear. Tiptoeing out the room she snuck down the stairs, her heart in her throat.

There were murmured voices and a particularly loud set of heels against hardwood. Ran checked to make sure her shirt appropriately covered her before she descended the stairs in time to see Shinichi shut the door behind a woman with a white coat. The tall soccer athlete was clearly scowling but paused when he saw her on the stairs. His expression softened considerably and his cheeks darkened.

"Ah, morning Ran."

She had to try very hard to quell the surge of jealously that had swamped in her stomach. Whoever that woman was she had to have been familiar with Shinichi, enough so that she would find it appropriate to call on him so early in the day. Ran quelled such emotions with memories from the night before and the thought that it was her there in his house, wearing his pajama's, and being gazed at with such tenderness. Blushing, she smiled softly at him.

"Good morning Shinichi." There was a noticeable lack of space between them when he walked forward and wrapped his arms around her waist. Even when they had both been clearly skirting the issue of mutual affection in the past, there had always been something of an invisible barrier that kept them from ever getting quite so close to each other. It had been present back then and even months ago when he had returned. The night before had clearly smashed any trace of such things to pieces and Ran was happy to find that Shinichi seemed to have outgrown his rather crippling need to appear aloof at all times.

She warmly rested her arms on his shoulders and grinned down at him. "Who was that?"

Ran felt his shoulder shrug beneath her and he said in a tone that revealed his obvious distaste for the intrusion. "Just Haibara being a pest." She cocked her head at him with a quirk of her eyes that had always meant be nice and he amended the remark with a sheepish apology. "I have to head over to Agasa-Hakase's later to let her do a routine check-up. She insists on them once a month for research. I've made it a habit of forgetting about them."

Her giggles were to him like sight was to a blind man and he caught her by surprise when he laid his head on her chest and squeezed her tightly. "Missed you."

Despite being taken aback she didn't hesitate to clutch him close and gently murmur, "I missed you too."

They stayed that way for a long time, the ticks of the grandfather clock in the dining room creating a tranquil ambience for them to lose themselves in. Ran pulled back from the embrace to gaze at her childhood friend.

Shinichi gave her a wolfish grin, the kind of which she had never seen on his face before. She yelped as he gathered her up into his arms, her toes skimming the banister as her slippers fell, and proceeded to carry her back up the stairs. Ran would have protested but something in his manner made her mute as his intentions became abundantly clear when they entered the bedroom and he firmly kicked the door shut behind them.

Continued in Chapter Two...

This was supposed to be smut. What the heck happened?! Dammit Shinichi. Being your usual perfect self. I CAN'T DO IT! I can't write smut for these two despite my obsessive love for reading it! T_T I just want some good ol' ShinichixRan getting it on. What's the deal?!

Several references to the OVA: Stranger in Ten Years. Still my favorite.