Detective Conan and Magic Kaito characters, settings, and ideas do not belong to me but to Aoyama Gōshō.

An Odd Welcome Home

By Taliya

The heist was over. Kaitou KID had managed to escape once more with the prize of the evening, an elaborate Egyptian collar-style necklace with a multitude of smaller cut carnelian, lapis lazuli, and pearl-white chalcedony stones inlaid with gold filigree, known as the Blood of the Conquered. Crafted during the Pharaoh Ahmose I's reign after he had reasserted Egyptian dominance on the former subject territories of Nubia and Canaan during the last years of his rule, the necklace was a gift to his sister and main wife, Ahmose-Nefertari in celebration of the success of his conquering expeditions. The particular item the phantom thief was after was the centerpiece jewel: a tear-shaped carnelian cabochon pendant the size of a baby's fist.

Kudou Shinichi sighed. The chase had been thrilling; there was no doubt about it, though this was the first time he had experienced being part of the heist as Kudou Shinichi and not Edogawa Conan, the Ekoda clock tower heist notwithstanding. On that particular heist he had not physically pursued the thief, much less known who exactly he had been trying to capture.

His childhood best friend and crush, Mouri Ran had allowed him out of her sight only after she had extracted a promise that he would make up for spending this evening chasing KID by spending tomorrow afternoon with her. Shinichi had, after taking the final antidote developed by Haibara, sat down with Ran to confess where he had spent the past several years masquerading as Conan. She had cried and lightly pummeled him for lying to her, but thankfully she had not deigned to kick him in the head. Gods knew if she ever actually wanted to kick him, he knew he more than deserved it but had no desired to have his head kicked off his neck. Things were still rocky with them, since he had sat down with her only a week ago, but she was willing to forgive him in time. Their relationship had been irrevocably changed by his time as Conan, and they now felt a bond that was more like siblings than anything romantic. It was a good thing, since Shinichi still tended to slip every now and then and call her, "Ran-nee-chan."

The Beika detective had tailed the thief to the rooftop of the Tokyo National Museum, which had been showcasing the traveling Egyptian exhibition, and Shinichi had figured out during the heist where the magician's planned exit point had been. The appearance of the phantom thief had sent the Kaitou KID Task Force into utter pandemonium—which, with his own experiences from chasing the thief as Conan, was par for the course. He had eventually found the thief standing with the necklace held to the partly clouded sky, as if offering the jewelry as a gift to the full moon.

"You're a slippery bastard, you know?" This was said with a pant as he exited the stairwell, footsteps overwhelmed by the sounds of sirens and the yells of the Kaitou KID Task Force, specifically one Inspector Nakamori Ginzo. Shinichi watched as the thief twitched his fingers, deftly wrapping the necklace about his hand. With a flick of his wrist, the necklace disappeared, and the white-clad magician pivoted on the edge of the roof to face his audience of one. The moonlight glinted off his single monocle despite the fact that the brim of his top hat kept the upper half of his face indistinguishable and hidden in shadows.

"You're a new face," he greeted with a voice smooth as silk and cool as the moon he seemingly adored. "However, I'm ever so glad that you could make it. I hope you've enjoyed my little show?" he inquired, eyes keenly watching his opponent, lips curved in obvious enjoyment. "It's a pity Tantei-kun couldn't make it," he said, a smirk twisting his grin that said he knew of Conan's true identity, "but at least you were kind enough to come out and play. Kudou Shinichi, the eastern counterpart to Hattori Heiji, if I'm not mistaken?"

"Guilty as charged," Shinichi said with a crooked grin of his own. "Figured since I was in the neighborhood I might as well give it a shot." Darting the thief was out of the question, though a football might work. KID stood with his heels hanging off the edge of the roof, and Shinichi had no desire to kill the nonviolent criminal by having him fall, unconscious, to his death five stories below.

"And for that you have my sincerest gratitude," intoned Kaitou KID with delight, tipping his hat as he bent into a theatrical bow. "Otherwise, I would have only had my ever-loving Task Force to keep me entertained."

Shinichi snorted. "You dance in circles upside down and backwards around them. If I hadn't shown up, you would have been bored out of your mind."

"Perhaps, Meitantei-san. However…" The thief raked his eyes up and down, giving him a careful onceover, and though Shinichi knew it was not meant in a sexual manner in the least, he still flushed under KID's intent scrutiny. "It seems you've had a major growth spurt." The grin morphed into a smile, becoming less manic and more genuine. "Welcome home, Tantei-kun," he said warmly, earnest in his congratulations.

"I'm back," he replied equally reverently, surprised and touched by the thief's consideration. The Great Detective of the East casually stuffed his hands in his pockets, willing his blush away as he arched a brow. "So do I want to know how you found out about that little secret of mine?"

The phantom thief shrugged elegantly. "I don't know, do you?" he countered.

Shinichi's brow furrowed in thought. "You know what? I don't want to know," he stated. "It might just creep me out."

KID snickered. "Fine, I won't tell you then." He winked at the detective teasingly and wagged a finger at him as he whispered, "But it's your loss!"

"I'm sure I'll survive," the private investigator said dryly.

They both heard the pounding of feet up the stairwell, indicating that the Task Force was closing in on the pair of them, that their already short conversation would have to be cut shorter. Kaitou KID sighed in exasperation but perked right back up. "Meitantei-san," he said briskly, "it's been a pleasure meeting you face to face for the first time." He tipped his hat once more with a quick, "Well then…" and leaned backwards, disappearing over the edge of the roof before Shinichi could react.

The Modern-Day Holmes sprinted to the edge of the roof and peered over, though his eyes failed to spot a figure in white below. The building was too low for takeoff with the glider, and there certainly was not a Kaitou KID-sized splatter on the ground below. Realizing that he had probably thrown a black cloak over himself and rappelled down the side of the building, Shinichi turned and headed back for the stairs, where the Task Force was just spilling out of the entrance. "Don't bother," he said, glancing back over his shoulder, "he's gone."

The clouds had soon overtaken the sky, a strong wind ushering in the front as thunder rumbled in the distance. Shinichi flipped his collar up as the breeze picked up, the sparse late autumn leaves skittering past his feet as he headed home and he wished he had checked the weather forecast to see if he would need an umbrella. Oh well. The hour was late; there were few people on the streets as he made his way home.

Home. It was a strange concept, and a lonely one. Home meant the Kudou manor, where he lived by himself in the empty, echoing space. Home was no longer the apartment above the Mouri Detective Agency, where he had lived as Edogawa Conan with his childhood friend and crush, Mouri Ran, and her father Kogoro. Home was… not home. Not anymore. Not yet.

Shinichi allowed his feet to steer him in the right direction while his head repeated his short conversation with Kaitou KID. The thief had known, for a while, about his secret, and oddly enough had kept it. KID had not tried to blackmail him, extort him, or anything like that—not really. Instead, he had used that information to help him… most of the time. He would not be KID if there was not a little bit of mischief involved, after all.

A sharp smack and the sound of heels running on pavement broke him out of his contemplation, and he looked up to see a woman emerging from an alley further ahead at a sprint, only to be yanked violently back by a hand. He immediately began running toward that alleyway as the sounds of her muffled struggles reached his ears over the low boom of the approaching thunderstorm. Shinichi rounded the corner, darting into the alley in time to hear what the man was crooning.

"Come on, you pretty thing," her assailant purred with an undercurrent of anger in his voice, "I'll make sure our time together is good." He had one hand clapped over her mouth and the other pinning her wrists above her head against the wall as he leaned himself against her, nuzzling her neck. She thrashed ineffectually against him, for by now he was pressed flush against her entire body, and he began nipping at the skin below her ear.

Bastard, he thought, and Shinichi reacted without really thinking. A football was deployed from his belt and he kicked it as hard as he could at the man's head. The would-be rapist was knocked unconscious by the sphere, crumpling instantly while the woman sobbed and slid down the wall. The detective padded towards her but stopped several feet away, crouching so that they were level with each other. He pulled out his mobile phone and had a brief conversation with Inspector Megure, confirming that he had a culprit in "custody"—he could not carry handcuffs as a private investigator—for sexual assault before ending the call and focusing on the victim.

She was quite pretty. Long, dark brown hair draped her shoulders in erratic, wavy wisps, pulled forcefully from the neat, utilitarian updo it had originally been in. Her eyes were red from crying and her mascara ran down her cheeks as testimony to her emotional plight, and her rimless glasses sat askew on her nose. Her lipstick was smeared from where the man had muffled her with his hand, and there were marks forming on the column of her neck above her light-colored button up collar. She wore a dark-colored skirt suit over the shirt, along with a large combination cross-body laptop bag and purse and black leather kitten heels. All in all, a very put-together woman clearly on her way home from a late night at the office.

"Are you all right?" he asked, pitching his voice so that it was soothing and low. She shook her head violently, her shoulders shaking in her distress, and Shinichi resisted the urge to kick the unconscious man in the gut. "You're safe now," he said quietly, "the police are on their way; they estimated getting here in five minutes. Think you can wait that long until they show up and can take your statement?"

She nodded once. Her eyes were wide and dewy as she stared at him. "Who are you?" she asked, her voice timid and trembling.

"I'm Kudou Shinichi, detective." He frowned. "And I'm sorry I couldn't get here earlier to help you."

"That was my fault for working so late," she said, looking away in shame. "I—made myself a target by going home alone."

"That shouldn't matter because you are supposed to be safe under any circumstance, alone or otherwise," the private investigator said softly with some frustration creeping into his tone. Eyeing the man to ensure he was still out cold, he continued, "But I've dealt with the threat to you now. May I ask your name?"

"Hatobara Tsukiko," she answered, tentatively accepting his hand to help her stand up. She remained huddled against the wall, her eyes constantly darting to her unconscious assailant.

Shinichi frowned again. "Why don't you head to the entrance of the alley? I'll take care of this guy here while you—"

"No!" she exclaimed, interrupting him. She curled further in on herself, arms wrapped around her middle. "I don't want to go anywhere by myself," she explained, her voice panicked.

"Okay, that's fine," the detective soothed, "I won't leave you alone. But I do need to pull this man over to the end of the alley anyway so that it'll be easier for the police to take him into custody." He eyed her reaction. "Are you okay with that?"

Tsukiko swallowed hard but nodded. "I don't want to be alone," she emphasized, and skittishly hovered by him as Shinichi hoisted the man over his shoulder into a fireman's lift and hauled him towards the street.

The trio slowly made their way to the alley entrance, the wail of sirens echoing in the distance. Shinichi set the man onto the ground, reclining him against a building wall under an overhanging balcony. "The police should be here soon," he said, smiling reassuringly as the sirens drew closer. She nodded silently, keeping a careful distance between herself and her aggressor even as she stood as near as she dared to him—not quite touching, but close enough to be intensely aware of her presence next to him.

Lightning momentarily lit their surroundings, followed by a bold grumble from the heavens. Stray droplets spattered on them, quickly growing in number until it was a solid, steady downpour. The two huddled under the shelter of the balcony next to the unconscious man, with Shinichi acting as a barrier between the woman and her assailant. The detective absently wondered if he had given the man a severe concussion, since even the cold rain soaking his feet did nothing to rouse him. Maybe he had kicked the ball a little too hard… The wails of the sirens were close, and the detective breathed a silent sigh of relief as the revolving red lights blinked in the nighttime gloom. He stepped out into the rain, waving his arm to catch their attention, and the two patrol units pulled over. Megure stepped out of the passenger side, Takagi from the other vehicle as other officers hurried to cuff the comatose man.

"Kudou-kun!" the inspector greeted.

"Megure-keibu," Shinichi replied, "Takagi-keiji."

"So what happened here?" The inspector, as always, cut the small talk to get down to the chase.

Shinichi gestured to the woman hovering under the balcony, who was answering her own set of questions from Takagi. "Her name is Hatobara Tsukiko. I haven't asked for more personal information yet. I saw the victim running out of this alley before she was roughly pulled back in. I was about a hundred meters down the street that way when I spotted her," he said, gesturing in the direction he had come from. "I found the culprit pinning her to the wall with him in the process of sexually assaulting the victim. I knocked him out and called you."

"I see," the inspector said.

"Keibu," one of the officers called. "The culprit is in custody," he said, indicating the first patrol car.

Megure nodded. "Good." He turned back to the young detective. "We'll let you go since it's late and you're thoroughly drenched, but expect a call tomorrow morning for more details."

Shinichi nodded. "Understood. She will be taken care of?"

"We'll see that she gets home safely," said the inspector.

"I can't go back to the hotel!" she cried, her voice rising in panic once more, "I am there alone, and I know it's irrational, but I can't—I—I don't—" She skittered away from the officers urging her to get into the back of the second vehicle, clearly afraid to stay in her hotel room by herself but equally scared of being abandoned here.

"Do you have any friends in the area you could spend the night with, Hatobara-san?" asked Takagi.

Tsukiko shook her head vigorously. "I'm here on business from America. I don't know my coworkers here well enough to impose on them. And…" she ducked her head, "I don't want them to know about this."

Shinichi sighed resignedly even though he understood all too well the need to save face, particularly from people she worked with. Respect was something that was earned through years of built trust and hard work, yet it was all too easy to destroy. An incident like this would likely damage her credibility and cause her peers to see her as nothing more than a "weak woman," unfair and unreasonable as it was. "I'll have her stay at my house for the night so she won't panic, if that is all right with you." At Megure's nod of acquiescence he raised his voice so that she could hear him. "Hatobara-san," he called, catching her attention. "If you are that worried about being alone, I could offer you a spare room in my home."

She latched onto his arm, and Shinichi was instantly very uncomfortable with how transparent her shirt had become in the rain, particularly with her… assets… in such close proximity. He blushed to the roots of his hair, coughed, and pointedly refused to look anywhere near the arm she was attached to, much to the other officers' amusement. "I hope I won't be a burden, Kudou-san!" she exclaimed gratefully and apologetically, "Thank you!"

"Well, come on then," he said gruffly to hide his embarrassment, turning the two of them around. "My house is not far from there." They left the police after thanking them and bidding them a good rest of the night before continuing to walk in the rain. "Your Japanese is excellent for someone from America," he commented to ease the silence between them.

"I'm half Japanese, half American actually. My father was born in Ekoda, and my mother is from Texas. I was born in Houston, but grew up in Haido before moving back to America for college and work."

Shinichi smiled. "Well, that explains a lot about your appearance, demeanor, and behavior." As planned, his banter had helped relax the distraught woman.

She chuckled. "I take it not all good then?" she joked weakly.

"Nothing bad, I promise," the detective said with a kind grin. "But I am curious," he continued thoughtfully, "you seem to trust me more than someone should regarding a total stranger."

She was silent as she contemplated her answer. "I guess… because you helped me, though that really isn't all of it. There's… something about you that puts me at ease, if that makes any sense. Like I know you won't hurt me."

By now the majority of the lighting and thunder had passed overhead, so now only the rumbles of thunder could be heard as low growls. "Well, I'm flattered that you think so highly of me. I shall do my best to be worthy of such praise," he replied as he opened the gate to the perimeter wall of his home. The pair made it to the front door of the Kudou residence, and Shinichi, ever the gentleman, bade her enter first. However, she refused, clearly wanting to follow, and so he did.

"I'm back," he murmured as he flicked the lights on, though he knew his parents were out of the country. He squelched into the genkan and kicked his shoes off, forgoing slippers since he would just soak them.

"Pardon my intrusion," the businesswoman murmured, following Shinichi's example and sliding her feet out of her ruined heels. She glanced forlornly at her soaked bag, knowing that her laptop was destroyed.

"Don't mind getting water all over the place, Hatobara-san," the detective said, standing in a growing puddle at his feet. "Let's get dried off first, then I'll deal with cleaning up. Follow me; I'll show you to a spare room." He turned and climbed the stairs, leading her to a hallway before stopping. He gestured to the doors that lined the corridor. The far end door is the master suite; the one directly to the left is mine. The three remaining doors are separate guest suites. Pick one; they should all be stocked with basic toiletries." He paused, quickly scanning her attire and blushing again. "I'll see if I can find you any dry clothes for you to wear. You're taller than my mom, so I apologize if you end up wearing something of mine since that might fit you better."

Tsukiko glanced down at herself and favored Shinichi with a rueful smile, and the detective was struck by the indigo color of her eyes. "At this point, anything dry is better than this." She sauntered to the guestroom door next to his, her movements and bearing elegant and graceful and utterly feminine. It was a stark contrast to how Ran moved, Shinichi noticed, his friend's movements purposeful and utilitarian. "Do you mind if I take this room?"

Shinichi shrugged. "Any of them are available to you." He headed for his own quarters. "Let me see what I can do for you about clothes. I'll knock before I enter." He closed the door behind him, swiftly making a beeline for his closet after shedding his sodden clothes, hastily toweling himself off, and throwing on a long sleeve tee and baggy cotton pants. He rummaged through his clothes, finding another set of designer long sleeve tee and pants, though these matched and were made specifically as loungewear that his mother had bought when she had visited Paris last year. He knocked on Tsukiko's door, hearing her call out, "Come in," before he dared enter.

"Hatobara-san, I brought your…" His voice trailed off as he took in the sight of the woman as she sat on a towel at the dressing table plucking pins out of her damp hair. Although she was still wearing her damp business clothes, she had already hung her charcoal jacket over the bathtub to dry. His eyes were unwillingly glued to the modest, nude-colored band of her bra and the graceful curve of her spine, visible through the wet cream-colored shirt that clung to her like second skin. He felt his throat dry and for the fourth time that night he blushed as he averted his eyes, though not before he caught hers gazing at him in the reflection of the mirror. Clearing his throat uncomfortably, he held out the folded clothing. "Here," he said, keeping his gaze stubbornly pinned to the carpet.

He heard her rise from her seat, heard the soft padding of her feet on the carpet before her hands brushed his as she accepted the proffered articles of clothing. "Thank you," she said sweetly and headed straight for the bathroom, leaving Shinichi to show himself out.

He returned to his room, grabbing a bunch of spare towels that he used to mop up the water on the hardwood floors from the entrance to the upstairs hallway. That done only then was he able to shower, relishing the warmth of the hot water after the chill dankness of the rain. He finished his evening ablutions and changed into his pajamas, burrowing under the covers with a contented sigh after setting a midmorning alarm for tomorrow, grunting at his clock as it proclaimed 12:42. Exhausted from the long day, he quickly slid into a light doze. Just before he fully fell asleep, a soft knock on the door roused him. He groaned quietly, irked at being woken up as he mumbled, "What?"

The door to his room cracked open just enough for Tsukiko to poke her head into Shinichi's room. "I'm sorry," she apologized softly, "I just can't sleep." She paused, as though steeling herself for a refusal. "I know I'm being silly, but would you mind if I stayed in here with you? I don't mean in your bed!" she hurried to explain, clearly embarrassed by her neediness. "But I just don't want to be alone. I can just sit on the floor or something; I really don't mind that."

Shinichi's brain had perked up upon hearing her desire to share his room. He listened to her entire plea before scoffing. "It's not silly, and you aren't sitting on the floor. It's October; you'll freeze on the floor." He sat up and scooted to the edge of the bed, flipping the covers back with a yawn as he stood. "You can take the bed. I'll sit on the floor."

The businesswomen had by now fully entered his room but had yet to close his door, and he could not help but notice how well she wore his clothing. "I couldn't possibly do that!" she cried, quickly inching back out the door. "I couldn't kick you out of your own bed! I'm so sorry I woke you up! Forget I ever suggested something so stupid!"

"Wait a moment," he said, struggling to kick his brain into full wakefulness. "It's not stupid; you're feeling insecure, and I get that. How about this, you can take half the bed, and I'll take the other. I promise not to do anything. Is that okay with you?" Thankfully his was a queen-sized bed; otherwise he would not have even bothered to suggest the idea.

"Only if you're one-hundred percent sure," she said nervously, "I know I've been a huge inconvenience to you already, and I apologize!" She added a low bow to show her contriteness.

Shinichi indicated the bed. "Get in and warm up, Hatobara-san. I neglected to give you slippers after you'd showered, so your feet are probably cold." He shuffled sleepily to the other side of the bed, the side further from the door and unceremoniously yanked the cover back and flopped in.

Tsukiko tiptoed over, sliding in and covering herself while trying to be as unobtrusive as possible. "I… thank you, Kudou-san," she whispered again.

"Sleep," he commanded softly despite being suddenly wide-awake as his brain finally registered that he was in bed.

His own bed.

With a woman.

He stared, wide eyed at the ceiling from his position flat on his back, his body stiff with tension and he hardly dared to move as he listened to her breaths slowly even out in sleep. God, what was he going to tell Ran when he met up with her later today? He knew she could tell if he ever lied, but he had no idea how he was going to explain this. It was just too embarrassing! How long he lay like that, he had no idea, but after a while he began to relax, slowly getting used to the other presence at his side—

—until she shifted. Tsukiko rolled with a wordless murmur, and upon finding a source of warmth she latched herself onto it. Shinichi stiffened as her arms wrapped around his torso and a leg hooked around his, sighing contentedly in her sleep and she pressed herself flush against his body. She rubbed her face on his chest, and Shinichi swore profusely in his mind as he felt her breasts and pelvis press against him even as he felt himself inadvertently responding to her touch and he blushed from his hair to his toes—he was beyond mortified at his inability to control his reactions. He could not help but notice the firm musculature of her legs, the warmth of her body, the smell of whatever shampoo she had used for her hair. If he had been stiff before, it was nothing compared to what he felt now. At this rate he would need a cold shower first thing when he woke up followed by a visit to a massage therapist to work out the knots in his entire body. Wasn't he done with this… this particular problem? He was twenty, for crying out loud! Certainly past puberty and the corresponding joys that came with it! He shifted, intending to loosen her arms, but she instead tightened them around him with sleepy protest.

How has it come to this? he mentally wailed, trying and failing to come up with ways to dislodge the woman without waking her and feeling immensely uncomfortable with how awake he was—in both senses of the word. This is so wrong! I have a "problem," and she is a victim of sexual assault. Thank the gods she is at least asleep—she does not need to add this to the list of traumas she's experienced for the night! What did I do to deserve this? He resigned himself to a sleepless night, though as the minutes passed, slowly but surely his eyes drifted shut of their own accord and eventually he slipped into slumber.

Shinichi awoke before his alarm to warm sunlight shining in his face. He groaned, an arm reaching up to block the bright rays. Memories of the night before drifted into the forefront of his mind, and he started, looking to the other side of the bed for his unexpected bedmate. Tsukiko was nowhere to be seen. His eyes roved across his room, noting the empty bathroom and the open closet doors before they landed on a note left on his nightstand. He picked it up, squinting in the bright light as he read it.

Meitantei,

Thank you for such an enjoyable night; you succeeded far beyond my wildest expectations. Perhaps I should play the damsel in distress more often! I look forward to seeing you at my future heists, and I anticipate a much better game now that you are your proper size.

With cheer and laughter,

-Kaitou KID

P.S. – That necklace looks rather flattering on you, wouldn't you agree?

Shinichi read it twice more just to make sure he had not misread the short missive left by Hatobara Tsukiko, who had in actuality been a thoroughly dressed up and disguised Kaitou KID. Then he let loose a torrent of epithets regarding the phantom thief that would have done Inspector Nakamori proud. He tossed the covers back in irritation, stomping to his bathroom and sure enough, the Blood of the Conquered hung gracefully around his neck in glittering colors over his pajama top in the mirror. The detective scowled at his reflection as his fingers fumbled to find the clasp and he paused, frowning as he recalled a particular detail. How in the world had Kaitou KID managed to hide his… equipment… when he had pressed himself fully against Shinichi during the night? The detective knew without a doubt he would have noticed something like that. He blushed furiously in remembrance, recalling the way it had felt to have another body pressed intimately against his own. It was one mystery the detective firmly decided he did not ever want to solve—for his own sanity, if nothing else. He set the jewelry on his countertop as he began his morning ablutions, making a mental note to stop by the police department to hand it over to the KID Task Force.

KID, he mentally growled as he brushed his teeth, I am so going to dart your sorry ass the next time I see you!

And in his mind, he could see the phantom thief laughing with an eager look in his eyes that said, Bring it on, Tantei-kun!

Author's Note: My muse is working overtime. Somehow all of my oneshots for this particular fandom seem to turn into absolute beasts, though I'm not quite sure why. I had not intended this to be considered romantic, though if you like you are certainly more than welcome to read into it that way. Hatobara Tsukiko is a name I made up that means "dove rose moon child," which I thought was rather fitting for KID. The facts about Ahmose I are true, as far as I can tell from what I've researched, though the necklace is purely imaginary. And if you want to know how KID… "tucked" his… bits… then search for the Buzzfeed video in which guys try out drag for the first time—it's hilarious and quite informative and contains a lot of profuse swearing, so take note that this video is definitely rated T, kiddos! I hope you enjoyed it.

Completed: 01.05.2015