Disclaimer: I do not own Magic Kaito or Detective Conan.

Oneshot Ten

A Nakamori Dinner

Kaito was surprised when Aoko invited him over for dinner that night, which was an unusual occurrence. Unless they were working on an assignment together, finding a time that worked out for both of them could be difficult.

"What's the occasion?" Kaito asked, leaning further back in his chair with his legs propped up on the desk in front of him.

"Mom is back," although Aoko spoke quietly, her beaming smile and tone of voice getting across her delight.

The chair and its occupant went crashing to the floor clanging and with a loud thud, attracting the attention of the few other students in the classroom.

"I thought she was dead!" exclaimed the teenage thief, gaping from the floor at his childhood friend.

"There's no need to advertise it! Besides, I suppose she has been gone for a long time," Aoko's expression changed to an almost nervous one as she shuffled her feet awkwardly.

"That's great! Of course I'll come over! Does your mom still make that great spaghetti?"

Line Break

Later that evening found Kaito entering the Nakamori household without hesitation, jubilantly announcing his arrival. He paused in the foyer, taking in the smell of the familiar residence. It mostly smelled like spaghetti sauce at the moment – a meaty one, he inferred by the scent – but underneath that, along with the usual smells of the house, there was a very strange, not too pleasant one that he couldn't quite place a finger on. In fact, the only thing, or rather person, that came to mind in correlation to it was Tantei-kun, and unless him being Kaitou KID had been discovered and this was a trap to arrest him he was pretty sure he wouldn't find the shrunken detective here of all places.

"Kaito, you got here just in time," Aoko approached him as he was taking his shoes off, "dinner has just been set. Mom said that we can go ahead and eat without her; she still has to . . . take care of some things in the kitchen," Kaito raised an eyebrow at the discretion Aoko was displaying in her speech, and almost made to pester her about it before deciding to just ignore it. It probably wasn't important, and hey, the spaghetti was getting colder every second that he wasn't eating it.

Following his childhood friend into the sitting area, Kaito greeted her father with a jaunty grin and sat down at the table.

"It's been a while since you've been around, Kaito-kun," Nakamori Ginzo said to him, relaxed as he started digging into his plate of spaghetti. It had been a while since he didn't have to help in dinner preparations on one of his nights off.

"Hehe, yeah, but I've been busy with school and working on my magic, you know?" Well, the Inspector never saw much more than a little sleight-of-hand from Kuroba Kaito, but he was all too familiar with the growing evermore dramatic and varied tricks of Kaitou KID.

"It's good that you're pursuing a dream so enthusiastically; I'm sure you'll turn out like your father," this was the reply, broken up in-between mouthfuls of noodles.

Kaito nodded, but his eyes flickered to the kitchen threshold where he could hear the sounds of pots and utensils clattering, mind elsewhere. It was wonderful that Aoko's mother really wasn't dead and was with them once more, but a part of him that he was uncomfortable with wished that it was his gone parent instead.

"Hey, don't you dare start!" Aoko chided her friend.

"Huh?"

"You were doing that thing again, where you become withdrawn and unresponsive," she scowled, "it's been happening a lot this year. I'm starting to think you hit your head and it addled your brains. Not that they weren't already."

"Hey!" he objected at the quip, but snapped out of his reverie started in on his own meal with relish, all the while ignoring the way the corners of the inspector's lips were twitching upwards as if keeping a smile in check. Which he probably was.

He hadn't been eating for long before he stopped, expression disbelieving and more than a touch disgusted.

"Aoko?" Kaito asked, hesitantly prodding his spaghetti with his fork before casting an askance glance over in the kitchen's direction. Aoko's mom was still in there, and he could hear water running. If he strained, Kaito thought that he could even detect hoarse mumbling.

"Hm?"

"I found an ear in my spaghetti," with no prudent way to say it he had just blurted it out. Not even waiting for Aoko to reply, he made a face and gingerly pinched the offending object up between two fingers to show it. Sure enough, it was a human ear, encrusted with a bit of bodily fluids and traces of rot around where it had been severed from the head it came from.

Aoko took one look at it before twisting in her seat to face the kitchen, where she cupped her hands around her mouth and shouted, "Mom! You dropped one of your ears into the spaghetti!"

"An ear. An ear," by this point a severe disconnect between reality and Kaito was going on.

"Mm, I've found a couple of fingers in my dish," Ginzo turned his head to face his daughter, who had returned to sitting completely forwards, "this is why either you or I do still most of the cooking."

"I guess cooking just isn't something that should be left to zombies," Aoko concurred.

"AN EAR."

OMAKE:

"Dad, where were you! And what smells?" Ran demanded as her father stepped into the agency long after he had said that he and Conan would get back.

"Sorry, sorry! Another case happened that required my expertise. As for the stench, blame the brat," Kogoro stepped to the side, allowing Ran to catch sight of the young ward of the Mouris covered from head to toe in putrefied flesh and looking very disgruntled. Without her father acting as a barrier against the full force of the odor, Ran – who had stood her own against full-grown men with ease – was nearly bowled over by it, stumbling back and only just catching herself from falling by clutching the edge of a desk.

"What gives?!" she screamed, eyes watering and a hand clasped over her mouth and nose.

"The case was also the brat's fault. He stepped on a damaged patch of flooring which, of course, was concealing a hiding spot for a corpse," Kogoro scowled down at Conan, who glared right back at him. Not only did the shrunken teen take exception to being called a brat, but if anything he had more right to be offended by the series of events than the puppet detective. (Sadly enough though, this wasn't the first time this had happened to either Conan or Shinichi by a long shot (although this was the first time the corpse had blown up all over him, courtesy of a nearby minor explosive), so perhaps he was not as upset by his current state as he should be.)

"And he was brought back here like this," Ran gestured strongly at Conan, "why?"

"Division One said they had enough on their hands already and we were almost back anyway. But Takagi-san was kind enough to give us the air freshener from his car," deadpanned Ran's father, pointing at the pine fresh-smelling object hanging from an elastic band around Conan's neck. It didn't really help with the stench, though.

"I give up. You, clean up now. Thoroughly," Ran ordered her little brother figure. Although she was keeping her distance Ran still somehow made it seem as if she was looming menacingly over Conan. Only he'd had enough attitude for one day and wasn't going to stand for this.

"I don't know . . . maybe I like being like this. I think it can wait another day," Conan stretched his arms above his head as if tired, and before the other two could object he walked past them and plopped down on one of the couches.

Although it was only meant as teasing, it turned out that he actually was tired, for Conan fell asleep a moment later.

Neither willing to touch him and all attempts with loud noises failing, Ran and Kogoro ended up staying the night at a motel.

And this is how the Mouri Detective Agency got new couches (and a lingering smell that won't go away), and why Conan smells faintly like a zombie to this day.

A/N: Because dead mom is so overused that it has to be reinvented. I've been on a supernatural kick for a while now, also. Yes, zombie was the odd smell in the house. Thanks to Ten-Faced for one of our conversations having this idea pop up, in addition to encouraging me to write it. Oh, and thank you readers new and old to this collection who have been awaiting new installments; I'm a capricious writer, but I really don't mean to keep you guys waiting for updates.