Hello, bonjour, ni hao, and however else you greet one another! It has been a while, hasn't it? Yeah, well, I'm not sorry, because, uh, I do have a life outside fanfiction. Anyway, just a message to...

IHKF (aka: the biggest Conan/Ayumi shipper on the web): I hope you don't mind, but (if you've read my profile for the reasons I like the pairings I like) not all your favourite pairings will appear in this story. I think I'll mention Aoko once, but just passively. Also, I'll be making this more of a Jimmy/Legal!Amy story than a Conan/Amy story, just because I don't see Conan and Jimmy as two separate people.

Disclaimer: D'you know, it's a right royal pain in the bum to bother typing these down. I DON'T OWN CASE CLOSED/DETECTIVE CONAN. I'm begging you, PLEASE support the official release. Buy the manga, anime, merchandise etc. I NEED more English dub of CC!

Chapter 3

The journey to Rachel's apartment was silent. Deathly silent. Conan didn't feel like asking anything as he was too preoccupied with the new sights and sounds of Beika. Amy, he noticed, had a sort of graceful way of walking. She didn't walk like a princess, oh no, but her step was considerably light. She also smiled a content smile that Conan couldn't choose whether it was calming him down or making him fume with annoyed curiosity.

After a while, Amy announced that they'd arrived. Conan was surprised at the high class of the building. If the exterior looked like a palace garden, then the interior should be even more luxorious. There was an official sign at the door that said "Bejeweled Beika Apartments". Conan inwardly scoffed at the stupid name.

Amy couldn't help skipping inside ahead of her friend. "Come on, Conan! You're going to love this!"

Conan smiled to satisfy her, even though his guts were executing somersaults that would make even the Russian Circus jealous.

As he stepped inside, Conan was welcomed with a wave of sweet, cool air from the AC. His jaw dropped open a little more as he saw more of the, well, it couldn't be called a mere apartment anymore, could it? This place must be a hotspot for celebrities! The floor was made out of shining cream marble, and there was a crystal chandelier hanging from the middle of the lobby.

This place is positively sinful in extravagance! The great detective thought.

"Amy?" Conan called, eyeing a classy pink lampshade with its matching golden-tinted lamp.

"Yep?" she replied, walking lightly to the lift.

Conan ran a hand through his hair. "Is this a hotel for famous people? This isn't like any apartment I've ever seen before."

"No, it's not a hotel, but I understand where you're coming from. I don't think Rachel ever dreamt that she'd one day live in here, but Harley wanted the best for her. He's opened his own detective agency, so he's gotten quite loaded." Amy pushed the button to call the lift.

Conan didn't say anything until the lift arrived. Stepping in, he couldn't help questioning Amy more. "Does the world still think that Jimmy Kudo is no.1 detective?"

Amy raised an eyebrow. "Wow, Conan, you really are his most devoted fan. Well, now a lot of people are debating about Jimmy Kudo's crime-solving skills being genuine, but I certainly don't. He's for real and he's the best detective I know. Not even Harley Hartwell could replace him in my heart." Amy's cheeks had gone a tad pinker, but it was barely noticeable.

Conan laughed, relieved, even though he was a bit sad that his reputation had gone downhill slightly. He raised his hand and ruffled Amy's hair. Amy suddenly squeaked, and Conan's hand instantly retracted.

"What's wrong?" Conan asked, alarmed.

Amy took a step away from the bewildered boy/man. "What the heck was that for?" she huffed.

Conan blinked thrice. "Er... being polite?"

The young woman crossed her arms, unimpressed by his answer. "What's polite about messing up my hair? What do you think I am, some kind of unruly puppy?"

Conan was almost lost for words. "S-sorry." Then he smiled cheekily to bring Amy's spirits up. "Well, excuse my foul behaviour, Princess Amy, but if her Highness would be so courteous as to mess my hair up, is my humble friendship with her Majesty still intact?"

Amy sighed, but nevertheless giggled. "Detective Conan, you'll always be my friend, geez. And I don't want to mess up your hair, ew, you can do that yourself."

DING! The lift opened up, and the pair walked out of it and then down the hallway. Amy took her shoes and socks off and they weren't even at the Hartwells' door yet.

Conan spluttered in surprise. "Amy, what are you doing?"

"You do it too, Conan! This carpet is so soft, me and Vi always do it when we visit."

Conan's eyes dulled, then brightened when he realised that Amy was being a bit less dry and mature than before. Still, he passed up the offer, to which Amy replied "Your loss, not mine."

She pretended to skate further down the hallway and around the corner. Conan touched the carpet with one hand and smiled like a child at how unbelievably smooth and soft it was.

He caught up with Amy as they arrived at Rachel's door.

"Well, here we are, one of your favourite places," said Amy, lifting her shoulders up and then down, as if they'd accomplished a hard task.

Conan suddenly didn't feel too good. He could feel an emporium of butterflies fluttering in his belly. Maybe I should go home... back to Richard Moore. I'd like to see how he's changed. No, wait, I could always go to my house! I'm tall enough now, so I can get in. Yeah...

Amy elegantly rang the doorbell, but the only thing that Conan could hear was the ringing in his ears, a ringing that was slowly turning into an endless throb.

Amy took note and glanced at the nervous man. "You OK, Conan?"

Conan didn't so much as return the glance. "Uh, yeah. No. Not at all. Do I really have to go?" he almost whined.

Amy closed her eyes and furrowed her brows crossly, as if she were dealing with a complaining child at the dentist. "Yes, Conan Edogawa. This is important. Something or someone could trigger ten years worth of memories. There's no turning back now." She ended her sentence darkly.

The dark maroon front door opened, and Amy didn't even flinch. To Conan, however, it was almost as if a blinding flash of light poured into the hallway.

Please, let it be Rachel. Jimmy wished. Please, let it be Rachel. Please, let it be Rachel.

The imaginary light began to reduce. A figure could now be made out to Jimmy.

Please let it be Rachel! Please let it be Rachel! Please let it be Rachel!

And there Harley Hartwell stood, clear as crystal, wearing that trademark smile on his beautiful dark skinned face.

"Ku- I mean, er, Conan! Amy! Hey, it's great to see ya!" he greeted cheerfully.

Amy stepped forward. "Hello, Harley!"

Conan's blood began to boil. How could he? I thought he was my friend! He knows that I have feelings for Rachel! Traitor! Liar!

Harley held an expression of concern to Conan. "Hey, kiddo, are you alright?"

Jimmy's eyes darkened rapidly. He abandoned all the codes he abided to throughout his hectic life and roared like someone who had just killed, charging straight into Harley.

"What the-Kudo, stop it!" Harley blurted out.

After that, it was all a matter of using Harley's being caught off guard to manoeuvre them both to the glass window entering the balcony. Conan regaining Jimmy's strength made the whole job a lot easier. Harley, surprisingly, wasn't even fighting back.

Jimmy kept on pushing Harley, into a table stool thing with a box on it. Jimmy kept on forcing Harley straight ahead, and with a sudden burst of energy smashed the glass window, and kept on exerting power, sending them both hurtling over the balcony. He could hear a pair of womens' screams, but he didn't care anyomre, because Harley was as good as dead.

Jimmy closed his eyes and laughed, Harley screamed, and they both hit the ground from ten storeys above, Jimmy landing on top of Harley.

Jimmy opened his eyes, knowing that he was done for. Even Harley's body wasn't enough to cushion his fall, but it had so been worth it. A satisfying pool of blood could be made visible under Harley's carcass, and was steadily growing like the plague. The broken table stool lay broken a few yards away.

"Conan!" someone screamed. Jimmy could guess it was Rachel's voice.

There was something else, too. The box that Jimmy drove into also was under the traitor's body, and there was another thing aswell. Cake. Birthday cake. Mary's birthday cake. Jimmy could feel his energy quickly decaying like the cadaver he was laying on.

He smirked with all the spirit he could muster. "Heh. Happy birthday, Mary, or whatever your cursed name... is. You're better off not having this wretch of a father..."

And there and then, the great detective Jimmy Kudo and his best friend Harley Hartwell died, their bodies slowly saturating in a bittersweet mixture of birthday cake and blood.

"Conan? Hey, Conan!"

Harley's ever-inquisitive tone of voice brought Conan back to reality. The schoolboy exclaimed from the rude intrusion of his fantasy. "Yes, Harley, I'm here. I was just spacing out."

Harley raised an eyebrow and Amy laughed nervously.

"Yes, well, come on in," Harley invited, with a suspicious tone of concern towards Conan. Jimmy couldn't help blushing in shame. Did I just fantasise about me killing Harley? Yuck! Snap out of it, Jimmy! The last thing you want to be is a hypocrite!

They entered the living room, which was gorgeous, to say the least. To his relief, there wasn't a box of birthday cake on the little table, but a vase of cream coloured roses. Is it even possible to have cream coloured roses? Jimmy thought, mentally figuring they must be fake. And then his eyes drifted to the leather maroon sofa, and he almost fainted.

Because sitting on the sofa was a girl, wearing a grey summer dress, who looked like the female version of Harley. She couldn't have been more than five years old. Her skin was darker than Rachel's, but lighter than Harley's. Her eyebrows were coming on to be thick like Harley's, and the only resemblance towards Rachel was that of her hair. The girl's eyes that, once again, looked like Harley's eyes, found their way to Conan's.

"Uncle Conan! Auntie Amy!" the child greeted happily. At least her voice is original, Jimmy thought.

Amy grinned motherly and picked the girl up. "Hey, Mary! Happy birthday!"

Conan had to stop himself from grimacing. So this was Mary. Mary Hartwell. This... child... of Rachel and Harley was... asking to be picked up.

"Uncle Conan, now you pick me up! You're my favourite!" Mary demanded with a teeth baring smile that only reminded Conan of Harley's stupid face whenever he tried to explain to Rachel that "I didn't call him Kudo, I called him kiddo!"

Conan looked down at the child and reluctantly lifted her, but held her at arms length, earning a confused look from Mary. Harley and Amy exchanged odd glances.

"Conan, Amy, you've arrived!" a familiar voice called from the door to the kitchen.

Conan's head darted to the voice's owner, and a tear of fascination almost escaped him. Yes, the woman standing there was Rachel, clad in a modest pink dress topped off with a sky blue cotton cardigan. As he remembered it, her hair was the same length, albeit thinning a bit, and he was glad to see she hadn't dyed it. She was wearing an innocent yet glossy pink lipstick that greatly complimented her lips, and that was about it, really. Yes, she had aged, but she was still... young. After all, she was twenty-seven now; how old-looking could a twenty-seven year old look? Perhaps her fountain of eternal youth was her karate.

"Hi, Rachel!" Conan greeted a little too enthusiastically.

Rachel approached them slowly. "Hello, guys... um, Conan? Why are you holding Mary like that?"

Then Conan suddenly realised the reason behind Rachel's awkwardness. He was holding the little girl as if she were some particularly disgusting creature. "Uh..." Conan began, not entirely sure how to worm himself out of this one, "I-it's because she's so teeth-rottingly sweet, if I get too close, I'll get diabetes for sure."

Rachel immediately laughed hysterically, not noticing Conan put Mary down in a hurry, or Amy puffing out a sigh of relief.

Conan slid over to Harley. "Well, the other kids are gonna be here soon, so Harley, do you mind if we leave the girls to get ready? I need to talk to you," Conan whispered the last sentence darkly in Harley's ear.

A few seconds later, the two men were in the kitchen. Conan shut the door behind him.

"So, Kudo, what's up? You've been acting strange since I saw you," said Harley, picking up a white, baby soft mochi from the table covered in party food, and handing it to Conan.

Conan instantaneously threw the mochi at the kitchen wall, much to Harley's shock.

"K-Kudo?" Harley kept his voice down to not attract Rachel's attention from the living room, although it was proving difficult, seeing as how the impact from the mochi left a smear of red bean paste on the kitchen wall.

Conan narrowed his eyes. "Oh, Harley, it's much appreciated that you were supposed to be my friend, and now you've only gone off and married the girl that I love. Yeah, Hartwell, much appreciated," the little detective spat sarcastically.

Harley blinked. "But Kudo, you knew. You've known for years-"

"That's just the thing, Hartwell, I don't remember! I don't remember anything for the past ten years!" Conan interrupted.

The great detective of the West approached the great detective of the East with care. "Kudo, we have to get you to the doc-"

"No! I'm sick of people saying I have to go to the doctor! Amy told me everything, and how you..." Conan broke off, not really knowing where to begin or how to end. There was something missing in his argument, he knew it... but what?