A/N: Inspiration struck at 1:30 AM. Realization that this was a hot mess struck at 3:30 AM.

Aoko's sort of OOC, but whatever. xD

They were sort of like Romeo and Juliet.

But she totally hated him with every fiber of her being. And there was no family feud, just two Nakamoris against one Kaitou KID…and last time she had checked, they were not in love, which would be sort of an integral part of their story if they were to be Romeo and Juliet.

…And no one committed suicide. That was always a good thing.

Okay, so maybe they were nothing like Romeo and Juliet.

But she had to keep in mind that they were in a rather compromising position right now. Despite her petite stature, she had pinned him to the ground trying to catch him, their bodies pressed haphazardly against each other's. Having knocked off his seemingly gravity-defying top hat with surprising ease, her fingers were entangled in his dark brown hair. His gloved hand reached dangerously close to the waistband of her skirt (and she did not care) while the other held a large glistening jewel she was not intending on letting him steal.

Her father would probably kill her (okay, more likely him) once he burst in with the task force trying to arrest the thief if he had found them like this. She was in fact having quite an intimate moment with the phantom thief he had been chasing for over twenty years (so why exactly did he look much younger than he remembered?) and she was seventeen.

And, paying special attention to the shocking truth that she was enjoying this kiss far more than she should and it felt way too right for her to even care, she could deduce that they were some sort of twisted Romeo and Juliet.

She honestly had no idea how they ended up here, making out on the museum floor (but at least she was on top). It was not like she expected for it to happen; she had just seen him in all his irritating glory, clad in his white suit and gleaming monocle, and instinctively tackled him in hopes of stalling him long enough for her father to capture him. There was a surprised look in his normally composed and mischievous blue eyes, reminding her of him, but it only remained for a fleeting second before he smirked.

"Seems like you've caught me, Nakamori-san," he had stated, his breath tinted with what smelled like spearmint. "And you've seemed to knock over my hat."

"Yes, now give me the jewel, KID," she replied, annoyed by his smirk. Why was he smirking? He was pinned to the ground, wasn't he?

It was then she had grasped how close they were—centimeters separating their faces and their noses at the risk of touching—and for some reason she noticed how, despite how messily she had landed on him, she felt rather comfortable pressed up against him.

Wait, what? What was she thinking? He was the enemy!

…And probably old enough to be her father (then why did he look like he could not be much older than she was?).

"Nakamori-san?" the thief had suddenly spoke.

"Huh?" Her mind clicked back from her demented thoughts; there was no way she should and would be thinking like this.

"Aren't you supposed to take this jewel away from me?"

He sounded a lot like him, looked a lot like him, and even smelled a lot like him; she had just realized.

"How old are you?"

"That's a rather random question, Nakamori-san."

"Just answer," she snapped.

"Much younger than your father thinks."

"And how young is that?"

He looked as if he was contemplating whether or not to tell the truth. "…Seventeen."

There was a pause.

"Good, then you won't be charged for pedophilia along with theft once my dad catches you." With that, she smashed her lips on his, carefully avoiding smashing their noses as well.

What the hell had gotten into her? (He just looked too much like him; she couldn't resist.)

This was her first kiss (with the phantom thief, no less; this would be an exciting story for her future children: My first kiss was a make out session in a museum with the international criminal both I and your grandfather hate.). However, she felt surprisingly in control—as if she knew what she was doing when she felt like she was losing her mind.

This sense of control remained even when she felt his tongue yearning to meet hers. She was surprisingly okay with it since she let him in. His hand got close to her skirt (whatever happened to being a gentleman thief?), but she honestly could not care less (whatever happened to her morals?) since she was pretty preoccupied with what his mouth was doing, not his hand. Subconsciously, though, she simply pushed it slightly higher to let his hand rest on her waist.

After a few moments, she pulled away blushing and panting slightly from lack of air. To her surprise, a stupid grin tugged at her lips.

He was still smirking.

"Isn't your father going to kill you if he sees us like this?" he said, not exactly objecting to what had happened.

"He'd probably kill you first…and then finally arrest you." He raised a brow at how ridiculous she had just sounded.

Much to her dismay, the sound of reverberating footsteps caught her attention and his. She impulsively pushed harder on him in attempts to keep him from escaping from the approaching police.

Never did she remember to grab the jewel.

"I apologize, but I must take my leave," he said, shocking her as he instantaneously switched their positions. Stealing one little peck on the lips, he swiftly got up and grabbed his silk top hat just as the police barged in with her father shouting random commands.

"Until next time," he announced before making his grand getaway on his trademark hang glider.

"Aoko! Are you okay? Did he do something to you?"

Still trying to register what happened, she looked around her.

"Dammit, he's gone…"