Please read Disclaimer in Chapter One.

Title: Elementary, My Dear Hiei (C7: Going Mobile)

Author: JaganshiKenshin

Genre: General, Mystery

Rating: K+/PG-13 (for anime-style fight scenes/language)

Summary: Hero and Delamont, revealed.

A/N: I've always been intrigued with the idea of Kurama taking a Sherlock Holmes turn, and this is the result. While it was imperative to tell most of the story from Pudge's viewpoint, the wise reader will immediately 'make' the identities of her two mystery visitors.

I appreciate your reviews and thank you for reading this tale!

"I never get your limits, Hiei!"

Elementary, My Dear Hiei (C7: Going Mobile)

by

Kenshin

The rain had stopped, and the night turned clear and cold.

Departing the Tarukane manor, Hiei and Kurama tramped through the trees. Hiei's black leather jacket creaked as they walked, a counterpoint to the rustle of Kurama's trench coat.

"Insurance investigator," said Hiei. "Good one."

"I try."

"Ever thought of getting your hands on the tiara?"

Kurama pulled a face. "With that curse attached?" He took a moment to savor their victory. Of course the family could not know of Hiei's true employers; the Agency was so cloaked and daggered that officially, it didn't even exist. And while Hiei, and not he, was their official operative, Hiei often called on Kurama to consult in stubborn cases such as this.

But there remained one mystery yet to solve.

"Hero?" Kurama inquired, with a lift of his eyebrow. "Monsieur Hero?"

"Monsieur Delamont?" countered Hiei.

"Delamont," Kurama confirmed, as they approached the motor home in all its sand-and-silver elegance.

Hiei seemed pleased with himself; there was a spring in his step, and Kurama inquired after the source of his cheer.

"Closed the case in a matter of hours," Hiei replied, "Got fed. Didn't break my sword. Neither of us has a scratch."

"Good points," Kurama conceded, recalling the curious case of the Taiyou Lake House last autumn, when they had nearly been torn to shreds by a horde of venomous jaki.

Hiei strolled around the back of the Silver Sands to un-hitch the Toyota Land Cruiser they had towed along with it. "Besides, nothing beats watching you dig a hole in the rain."

"Glad to be of assistance."

"Next time don't fasten your cufflinks outdoors."

"You could have located it with your Jagan."

"A waste of its power."

"Hero?" Kurama asked, for the second time.

"What's wrong, Sherlock? Can't figure it out?"

"Enlighten me."

"Hero," Hiei elaborated. "A workmanlike brand of fountain pen, which I just used to write the check, as opposed to your pricey Eurobrand, the choice of overprivileged posers."

"Hero," Kurama repeated, thinking that maybe the third time would prove the charm.

Hiei shrugged. "Also descriptive of my personal qualities."

"Ah. But you never got the joke hidden in my name?"

"Of course. Delamont. Of the mountain. Mount Kurama. I'm rolling on the ground with laughter."

"I can see that."

"And your French accent sucks."

Kurama passed it off with a shrug. "I'm sure the Puffingtons couldn't tell." Hiei, on the other hand, was well-known as a performer, at least in Japan. "Let's just hope they haven't recognized you."

"Ch. It was dark, they probably never saw my latest beer commercial, and they had other things on their minds."

Inside the Silver Sands, they disconnected the Agency's surveillance modules, working swiftly and seamlessly.

Hiei removed the Eye In The Sky unit from the GPS system. "I liked Mrs. P," he said, fitting the unit into its case.

"You like everything that walks on two legs and calls itself a mother," Kurama said, retrieving the Tarukane dossier from a kitchen drawer.

"She was a mom all right. In the end, her kids mattered more than money."

Sliding the papers in an attache case, Kurama said, "I could get used to this guise. Better than 'cowboy and sidekick.' At least I'm in charge, if only in the nominal sense."

"Ditch the Holmes act. Your English accent's worse than your French."

"You live to humiliate me."

"Nope. That's just an on-the-job perc."

Kurama slid into the pilot's seat and disconnected the All-Ears module from beneath the dashboard, then handed it to Hiei.

Hiei placed it in a foam-lined case. "Though come to think of it, did Holmes cheat by way of so much spy equipment?"

"This degree of technology didn't exist back in Victorian England, but Holmes had his Baker Street Irregulars, and the very latest in magnifying glasses." Placing his hands behind his back, Kurama again assumed the Holmes persona. "In fact, my dear Hiei, the study of different brands of tobacco alone-"

"Seriously. Stop."

"By the measured use of deductive reasoning we can-"

"Zip it."

Kurama gave a chuckle. "If I'm Holmes, I suppose that makes you Watson?"

"Well, Watson was the practical guy packin' heat."

"Hiei." Running a hand through his loaded hair, Kurama spoke with mock-severity. "I pack my own brand of heat."

"We got everything?" Hiei glanced around.

Kurama affirmed that they did, then wondered whether the Puffingtons would be able to drive the Silver Sands, which was a whopping 45 feet long.

"The dad's a truck driver," Hiei reminded him.

"Truck? This is a spaceship," Kurama said.

It was Hiei who had the driver's license, but the Silver Sands had been Kurama's idea.

Not only was it big enough for the entire Puffington family, but it would speed them safely away from the premises. The Class-A motor home, with its stereo, TV, bath, kitchen, even a washer/dryer combo, was more spacious and luxurious than any apartment where square footage was at a premium, including Tokyo and northwest central London.

Hiei removed the last piece of equipment, an infrared camera, this time placing it in a backpack.

Kurama studied the cockpit, with its array of gauges. "I hope they can figure out how everything works."

"Talk about mother hens," muttered Hiei.

"I shall ignore your insult in favor of asking if Thrustlewood will remain at the mansion."

"For a week or so while the Agency gets it into shape."

Kurama said, "If the family knew Thrustlewood was-"

"-an operative. And one-quarter youkai," Hiei filled in.

"They'd probably all faint," concluded Kurama.

"I guess in a sense," Hiei mused, "the kid was right."

"About what?"

"The butler did it."

For it was indeed the unflappable Thrustlewood who had contacted the Agency early on: offering vital information, acting, in part, as a Baker Street Irregular himself, minus the ragamuffin garb.

"What'll happen to the Tarukane manor?" Kurama inquired.

"It'll be used to develop the Agency's more outlandish weapons-and train some of their more dangerous agents."

"Such as yourself?"

Hiei laughed. "Who else?"

Kurama peered out a window at the manor: a looming hulk of brick and memories. "Perhaps it should be burnt to the ground and sprinkled with Holy Water."

"Kurama, you surprise me." But then-Hiei surprised Kurama, actually spraying Holy Water around the motor home, and hanging a spare Rosary over the cockpit's rear-view mirror.

"I never get your limits, Hiei."

"Ch." Hiei took one last look around the Silver Sands. "I just don't want to 'rescue' the Puffingtons again."

They exited the motor home, stowing their gear in the Land Cruiser, awaiting the family.

The Puffingtons arrived on schedule, and left by the main road, but Kurama wasn't so lucky.

As Hiei climbed into the Land Cruiser, Kurama released a long-suffering sigh. Hiei drove like a Kamikaze pilot amped up on gunpowder and uranium.

"I had fun," said Hiei, as the Silver Sands pulled away. "Even though I didn't get to kill anyone."

"Don't ever change," said Kurama.

Hiei turned the ignition. The engine revved, the wheels spat mud, the seat slammed Kurama in the back, and Hiei took off like a bat out of Hades.

But Kurama was fairly certain they would make it home in one piece. It was, after all, elementary.

-30-

(A/N: For all you fountain pen aficionados, Hiei's pen is the Hero 1026, loaded with Sailor Black ink.

The mysterious Agency and its workings is documented in Operation: Rosary and The Book of Cat With Moon.)

Thanks, and please scroll down for more Agency action with a brief preview of Trade Secret:

To the untrained eye, here was a good-looking lad in his middle twenties, with bristling black hair, keen crimson gaze, and a build for swift combat.

Except that Hiei wasn't exactly human.

On permanent duty in Tokyo by way of Boston, Father Brian McCormick had watched Hiei grow over these last few years from a sullen, disengaged loner with a sense of honor, to a sullen, disengaged loner with a sense of honor and a bulging caseload.

Give the boy credit. He griped, but always got his man. And there is far more to the heart, human or youkai, than presents itself on the surface.

No doubt Hiei's interior life was as surprising and varied as anyone else's, while the house of his spirit contained a nobility that he himself would vigorously deny.

Ah, the dear little pissant.

Father Brian shifted his attention to the third person in the office besides himself: another shadowy figure lurking in the opposite corner, pondering the expansive view of the city from the grand window behind 'N's' desk.

A tall man, caped and costumed, the silent stranger was a mystery wrapped in an enigma.

"No way," Hiei went on, "Not this assignment." He turned an almost comically-wounded gaze on Father Brian. "Aren't you always telling me I have the right to refuse any job?"

Father Brian played his trump card. "Ah, sure an' I got nothin' t' do with this one, lad."

Puzzlement and suspicion stitched the boy's brows together. "Then why are you even here?"

"I just wanted to meet The Batman." Father Brian waved a hand in that direction. And in between the time that he'd turned to indicate the caped crusader, and the time he turned back, Hiei had gone.

-30-

(To be continued-someday.)