Um hi... I'm alive? Many many apologies for the long absence. Life definitely got in the way. School practically took over my life. But I'm out of school now so hopefully that means I'll be able to dedicate some more time to this fic.

Also, if you saw this was updated and then checked and it was missing - I realized that I had ignored Conan's thoughts for the majority of the fic - so I obviously had to fix that.

Thank you so much to everyone who has stuck with this story in the two and a half years since my last update. A New Player has reached nearly 170 reviews, 290 favorites, and nearly 400 follows, which is insane! I never expected this story to get so big.

Cover Credit: deviantART's ~kayainu

Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock or Detective Conan.


Buzz. Buzz. Buzz. A well manicured hand slipped into a pocket and removed a slim phone, snapping it open and bringing it up to his face. "What?" he answered harshly, not bothering to say any greeting. Anyone with his number would know who they were calling, without a doubt. Slowly his scowl disappeared, his lips curling in pleasure as he listened to the voice. "Send all of the articles to me. Include any pictures and find out who's with him."

That said, Jim Moriarty snapped his mobile shut and returned it to his pocket. His gaze rested on the near identical mobiles before him, one with a football charm dangling from the corner. With a grin, he grabbed the one that was still blinking, indicating an unread message. He opened it, frowning at the kanji that appeared before him. Ignoring the text on the screen, he went to the most recent contact and started typing out a message. His lips twitched into a smirk as he finished, clicking 'Send' before shutting the mobile and replacing it on the table.


Eight hours away, two teenage girls were sitting on a couch. "Sonoko….when do you think Shinichi will return?" Ran asked her friend.

"Who knows when that detective-baka will be back," the chestnut haired heiress replied off handedly. Upon seeing Ran worrying her lip, she said cautiously, "Maybe…maybe it's time to let go. You've seen him only a handful of times over the past year, and he's always brushing you off."

"But he does call me…" Ran said, trailing off slightly at the end as her phone chimed. She picked it up, grinning when she saw that she had a text message from Shinichi. "Look! See, does that look like he's brushing me off?"

Sonoko rolled her eyes at the phone displayed before her. "Well? What are you waiting for? What did he say?"

Ran opened the message, frowning at the English lettering that appeared rather than the kanji that Shinichi normally sent. "Hi! I found this phone in London and can't read anything. Can you tell me who it belongs to so I can try to give it back?" She settled back into her seat as she pondered on those words. "What's Shinichi doing in London?" she wondered aloud.

"Eh?" her friend responded. "Isn't that where the brat with glasses is?"

The karate champ nodded, and was about to type out a response when Sonoko grabbed the phone from her. "Sonoko!"
"Has Shinichi ever send you anything in English before?" the heiress asked curiously.

"He lost his phone," Ran explained. "This is someone trying to get it back to him."
Sonoko blinked, and handed the phone back to Ran, slouching back onto the couch. "See! He didn't even tell you he was leaving the country. What sort of boyfriend is he?"

"Sonoko!" Ran's face was cherry red. She quickly sent off, "This is Kudo Shinichi's phone. Thanks for trying to get it back to him :)", before switching to a new text to send to Conan: "Hope the trip is going well Conan-kun! Say, did you hear from Shinichi? I think he's also in London. –Ran-neechan". She pressed send and put her phone away, before pausing.

Ran felt like the world was muted, and her heart beat rapidly in her chest. 'This feeling!' she thought. 'Shinichi! I feel like something is wrong…' The girl's hands clenched tightly at her skirt. 'Please be alright!'


"We're not the only ones whose lives would be at stake."

"Yes, your girlfriend, correct?" Before Conan could react, Sherlock continued, "Sonoko's friend. If she is indeed your girlfriend, that is. Oh, I'm sure you 'confessed' to her, but something is keeping you apart. Possibly this criminal organization, but more likely your age. All the girls your own age are far too immature to keep up with your intellect, so she must be much older. So that poses the question: why would you want a relationship with a significantly older woman? Your familiarity with her shows that you've known her your whole life, but seven is far too young to understand romance, yet there is no question that you are in love with her. Of course! You must be older than you appear. Not just a year or two, no, but ten years older than seven." Sherlock paused briefly, bringing his gaze to the two rapidly paling 'seven' year olds in his apartment. "How did you do it?"

Conan's thoughts raced. He had known that Sherlock was a detective, but he could not have dreamed that he would have deduced all that in the few hours they'd known each other. Neither he nor Haibara had even mentioned their former lives, so how could Sherlock have deduced that they were older than they appeared? His mouth set in a grim line as his mind raced over how he could possibly refute the idea now that it was in Sherlock's head.

Before he had a chance to form an argument, John interjected, "Hold on a second!" and strode to the center of the room. "What are you saying? That Conan isn't actually a kid? Sherlock, that's ridiculous! Look at him!" Conan let out a sigh of relief at John's interruption. Maybe he wouldn't have to find an argument after all. Logic would prevail.

Sherlock rolled his eyes at his flat mate, causing John to grit his teeth. He spoke again, not giving anyone else a chance to get a word in edgewise, "You look at him, John! You see but you don't observe. Why would a child be using dangerous chemicals? They wouldn't! Therefore, she cannot be a child. When you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth! Why else would she have volunteered to take out a sniper? Not because she's part of a little detective group, no, that wouldn't give a seven-year-old enough confidence to take out a trained assassin. No, it was experience – she's fought gunmen before – and that is not a situation most children find themselves in. It could only have come with age!"

"Or I could have been raised as an assassin," Haibara said dryly, causing Conan to roll his eyes. She smirked at him, and he grumbled under his breath. Of course Haibara wouldn't be any help. He shouldn't have expected her to conceal their secret. Conan took a deep breath. It would be up to him to salvage the situation.

John just gaped at her. "What?" Once again, the army doctor managed to speak before Conan could make any sort of joke to throw them off.

"Oh do catch up, John," Sherlock said. "Back to my question. How did you revert in age?"

There was a pause, and Conan realized that this would be his chance. He had to say something to disprove the idea of physically shrinking. A thought occurred to him, and Conan forced his eyes to open wide in order to appear younger. He would have to sell it. "What are you talking about, Holmes-jisan?" he asked in as young a voice as he could muster. "Like in Alice in Wonderland? People don't just shrink. That's just a story."

"Exactly like Alice in Wonderland," Sherlock crowed. John looked to him in confusion. Since when did Sherlock know fairy tales? "It was a drug, wasn't it? No, don't even bother responding, I know it was. It's so obvious! Why didn't I see it before?"

"Because people only see what they want to see," a voice came from the doorway. As one, all heads snapped to the door. Sherlock groaned at the sight. "They aren't like you and me. Or like Shinichi here."

Conan's mouth snapped shut, eyes widening involuntarily. His thoughts sped by rapidly – there was no was he had left any clues here in London. If the CIA, who he worked with on a regular basis, hadn't made the connection, how could the overweight member of the British government know? Possibly deductions formed in his head – could he have been caught on camera somewhere? Did this man – Sherlock's brother, he realized – have connections to the Japanese secret police? He swallowed, took a deep breath, and said, "Who's Shinichi, ojisan?"

"Don't do that," Sherlock scolded. "You weren't boring before. Don't start now." He turned his attention back to the visitor. "What are you doing here, Mycroft? Another favor?" he said distastefully.

Mycroft smiled in amusement. "Not from you," he said, before looking at Conan. "I came to get some information from Shinichi. And to give some information to him in return about Rum."

It was Haibara that responded to that. Her previous calm composure vanished at the mention of Rum, only to be replaced by sheer terror. "What information?" she asked suspiciously. "How would you know anything about Rum?"

"Hold on!" John roared. "Stop right there. Someone explain to me what is going on? Why are you talking about rum like it's a person? Who is Shinichi and why are you calling Conan by that name? And how the bloody hell did you know they were here?"

Sherlock scowled at that. "I thought I found all of your cameras," he complained.

"Obviously not," Mycroft responded. "As for your questions, Doctor Watson, Conan Edogawa is an alias for Shinichi Kudo, a teenage detective who was poisoned with APTX-4869, an untraceable drug developed by Shiho Miyano, or Sherry as she was known in her organization. Instead of death, the drug resulted in his body shedding ten years, something she no doubt realized as she appears to have taken the poison herself."

The pint sized detective in the room frowned. "How could you possibly know all of that?" he asked, not even bothering to deny it. If Mycroft knew those details, his concern needed to turn to finding the source and securing any information, not in convincing others that he wasn't Shinichi. There were bigger things to worry about.

"Mycroft is the British government," Sherlock answered in annoyance. "He knows everything. And yet he still comes to me for favors, when he is perfectly capable of accomplishing them himself."

"Oh please, Sherlock, do get over yourself," Mycroft said, rolling his eyes in exasperation. "I merely hold a minor position in the British government." He turned back to Conan. "As for that favor…"


The big reveal already? Well, at least Moriarty hasn't figured anything out yet... Do you think Ran's texts will be enough clues for him? And what could this favor of Mycroft's be? And how the heck could he know about Conan and the Black Organization? Stay tuned to find out more! Thanks again for all of the support. Please review! It definitely encourages me to update (no matter how long it may take)!

-Emily