Author's note: I know, I know, those twelve days are supposed to be after Christmas. But then, alas, I will not be there at the time… and since my best friend generously (sadistically) provided me with a list of twelve themes and there's precisely twelve days left until Christmas and I'm really BORED, I'll try and update once a day. I'll try. One per evening, but that's not a promise… schoolwork has rights upon me as well.

If I owned DC and/or MK, I'd very probably be murdered in my bed by loads of angered fans. Which isn't quite the kind of fate I seek.

Theme #1: the Best Gift (that just calls for Shinichi and Ran!)

Consequently, as a title:

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The Best Gift

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"Shinichi!"

The dark silhouette standing in the shade of the streetlamp turned just in time for a nearly-running Ran to crash against him, causing him to stagger lightly. Her eyes and hands immediately lifted, scanning his face, feeling his shoulders, making sure it was really him. Shinichi smiled a bit testily; being both her best friend and a detective, he could well guess the reason for her agitation – could well perceive how his call from, what, five minutes before, saying he was just the corner of the street and would she come down, when she was probably thinking him miles away, had caused the mix of happiness and shock which her puzzled eyes, hesitant smile and flowing words now openly exposed.

"Shinichi – it's you – it's really you – what are you doing here? Why didn't you tell me you were coming back? how long are you going to stay – Shinichi, are you all right?" the end of her speech dropping an octave from puzzlement to concern.

The young detective forced a truer smile onto his lips – he probably appeared too grave and too silent, compared with what cheerfulness (however fake) he usual held up during their telephone conversations, and her own happiness at seeing him again. In one quick glance, he devoured each feature of her delicate face, the worried expression of her light blue eyes; he couldn't help thinking this might be the last chance he got to see that sight.

"I'm fine," he pretended, and turned, somehow stiff in the way he held his back. "C'mon, let's walk." He felt Ran's alarmed gaze following him before herself did.

They walked at random for some minutes – not quite silent, but entertaining no other discussion than the average health, school, 'what-have-you-been-doing' inquiries. Shinichi was definitely out of the blue, and Ran was too puzzled to push him on into whatever it was he wanted to tell her.

They walked on through the early evening gloom, meeting practically nobody and nothing but the slender shapes of the streetlamps whose irregular glow punctuated their way. It was under one of those that Shinichi eventually stopped, facing her decisively, and in that full golden light Ran could see what she hadn't seen, rather, had not dared discern before – the weariness stamped on his face like a mask, his drawn-out features, the hard corners of his mouth and sharp glint of blue in his eyes, no doubt resulting from many a sleepless night spent in detecting and investigating cases. He stood there, taller, graver than she, more experienced too than the boy who'd left her to worry in Tropical Land one year before.

"Shinichi…" Nothing but a mere whisper of his name escaped her in a trickle of voice, and she lapsed again into silence. He was watching her intensely; more intensely, perhaps, than he used to. It would have troubled her but a few months before; now, she held the stare and waited. She had grown to learn patience.

"I wanted to say… Merry Christmas," he said, with a clumsy smile, scratching the back of his head in a familiar gesture that had not, and would not, change.

"Christmas isn't until another twelve days," she remarked.

"I know… but I may not be able to with it to you then," he said delicately. Then, in a sudden and irresistible burst of sincerity, "Ran, I'm going to leave Japan."

Her reaction was exactly what he'd expected it to be; what he hadn't anticipated was the effect that reaction would have upon him. Her eyes widened slightly, and her mouth opened only to be speechless, and her whole expression was such that he wanted to take her face between his palms and kiss her, tell her that he'd come back, that even dead, he would come back… Hearing her stammering, panicked words was an attack directed straight to his heart.

"What? When? Where to? Will you be back… soon?" She looked on the edge of crying – he knew that expression well. He used to see it a lot as Conan, and her voice heavy with strangled sobs was maybe worse than all.

"It's… related to the case I'm dealing… well, trying to deal with," he said cautiously, well aware that any other shock might shatter her before his eyes. "I have to team up with the FBI in America…"

"America…" she nodded, drawing in the long breaths that would force back the tears. "I see… and… when are you leaving?"

"Tomorrow morning." Better the blunt truth tan trying to slight her question easily – or so he thought. Her face did crumple, however, and she turned away from him, one hand raised as a bad attempt to hide her tears before he could see them. It failed. Shinichi heard something crackle, though whether inside her or inside himself, he could not say.

"Ran, I…" Words indignantly deserted him. It was his body that acted while his mind was still struggling. He slid his arms around her waist, feeling her stiffen, and rested his chin on her shoulder, anxious at first, then relieved that her back relaxed against her chest. She was sobbing softly, as fragile as a child, and he felt swelling inside him the usual feelings of helpless anger and want to protect her – he was furious, furious against himself to be walking out on her once more, and yet to have the nerve to ask her to wait up for him again. "I'm sorry – I'm so sorry." No other word would come out, and he was left with repeating those endlessly.

At last, she sighed – the long, slow sigh of tears rarefying – and she leant her head backwards, against his shoulder. The simple gesture of acceptance made his heart leap in pleasure and in pain – he did not deserve this and he knew it. He wanted to tell her how much he felt this, how much he wished he could stay with her now; words of love that would at least drive away some of this burden – instead, he buried his face in the curve of her neck and hugged her closer, tighter, some of his own tears losing themselves in the silky mass of her hair.

"How long do you think you'll be gone?" she asked softly – her voice ran smooth and clear in the night's coldness.

"I'm not certain…" was the muffled reply. "A few weeks. Maybe a month."

"And then you'll be back for good?" There was a sting of weakened hope in her voice which he would've hate to put an end to. He slid one arm up to encircle her shoulders, the other keeping securely around her waist, pressing her back against his chest, and answered,

"… I hope so."

Ran slowly disentangled herself from his arms and turned to face him with a small and, so he suspected, fake smile. "With both you and Conan-kun gone to America, things are going to get rather confused around here," she said lightly, keeping an even voice. "Be sure to check on him if you go through New York, 'kay? Tell him I miss him."

"I certainly shall," Shinichi agreed, but there was an off inflexion in his voice which she couldn't quite define. And then, in a total change of tone and manner, "Sooo… what'cha want for Christmas?"

This sure had the desired effect; a truer, more genuine smile forced its way up to her lips and she exclaimed, "Excuse me? Where does that come from?"

He grinned, relieved. "Well… you know," with a careless shrug, "you can find things in the USA which aren't so common here in Japan. So if you have any gift idea in mind – something you'd like and I could find you…"

Curiously, all Ran's amusement then vanished in thin air. Her gaze fell serious, and she turned silently away.

"Ran?"

"Ne, Shinichi…" she asked this hesitantly, avoiding his quizzical gaze onto her. "You… you won't happen to get seduced by a beautiful blonde FBI agent, will you?"

This did trigger something in Shinichi's assumed self-control. But Ran had no time to study the slight change of his expression; she had barely turned back to him that his lips crashed against hers, making her gasp in surprise and grasp at his shoulders. A few seconds of shock – then her eyes slit shut.

After the first minutes of rather awkward experiment, both felt encouraged enough to snuggle closer to each other in a somewhat more officially kissing position. –Thanks to Ran's intervention, mostly, they had often watched romantic films starring the beautiful nurse and the handsome soldier lost in the storm – this felt nothing like it. There was certainly not any perfection in either their situation or their kiss; they were far too hesitant and clumsy to make it plain perfect. They were both first-timers and therefore extremely embarrassed, and they had to gasp for air more often than they felt they should; but as it were it was perfect, in spite of all its imperfections.

Shinichi was neither too eager nor too direct. His lips were soft and gentle, as well their contact as the effect they produced on Ran, and it was but gradually that his arm slid around her waist again, pressing their bodies closer together. And it was easily, naturally without being forced or pushed to, that Ran's mouth opened slightly to his when he asked for it – and, more generally, the kiss began from then on to deepen in a way that was irretrievable. His hands were actually wandering – on her waist, up her back, in her hair, in her neck, but never, ever anywhere that may shock or hurt her – and those caresses were wonderful, simple butterfly touches leaving her skin tingling through her clothes.

It was that kind of moment which should, in all logic, last forever – but doesn't. For some reason of his own, time doesn't stop, nor even stretches in some kind of ever-lasting bliss, like most people pretend it does - this did last long, but not long enough to make either of them forget it was only temporary. And, when their lips eventually parted, that sense of ephemeral grew stronger – which I why Ran hid her face in Shinichi's shoulder, and he cradled her gently in his arms, and both rejoiced in that warmth of each other that would soon disappear.

"Be careful," came Ran's voice, breakable like a piece of glass in the cold.

"Uh?"

"That case you've got to deal with the FBI – it won't be easy, will it? Is there any danger involved for you? You already had to disappear once–" her voice had turned hard and bitter, and she didn't push on. "Can it be really dangerous?"

Shinichi's subsequent silence answered her question eloquently enough even before his voice came out, stiffly, "… possibly." And then silence again; he didn't seem to want to talk about that. Ran suppressed a shudder and hugged him harder.

"Be careful."

He stroke her hair lightly, enjoying the softness and limpidity of the black locks running smoothly between his fingers. "Don't worry. I promised you to come back to you, whether alive or dead, remember?" he reminded her un-seriously.

"I'd rather have you alive than dead," Ran grumbled, and he thought he heard something else that ran like, "risk-taking mystery-geek' or something similar, but the corners of her mouth were twitching and he sensed her amused enough – high-spirited enough to add easily,

"So? Any idea for a present I could get you?"

Ran marked a pause. She may never want to admit this to him – she tightened their embrace at the thought and felt him touch her hair with a feather kiss in response – for now, the simple certainty of his presence beside her, be it only for a moment, of her arms around her shoulders and his lips upon her lips, was the best gift he could ever offer her.

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I'm offering you fluff for Christmas! Enjoy it while it lasts! And, if you really enjoyed it… well, you know what to do. Hopefully, see you tomorrow!