Chapter 12:  Field Trips (Part One)

I walk the maze of moments and everywhere I turn to

Begins a new beginning but never finds a finish.

I walk to the horizon, and there I find another;

It all seems so surprising, but then I find that I know:

You go there (you're gone forever)

I go there (I'll lose my way)

If we stay here we're not together--

--Anywhere is…..

                (Enya, from 'The Memory of Trees' album)

Sleep is a sea.

We float on the surface like seabirds resting on the waves, balanced against the surface-tension of water so deep that not a one of us knows what really lies beneath.  Do we want to know?  It's a pretty sure bet that most of us don't; human minds have this little tendency to get a touch uneasy about what lurks in the dark, and there's nothing so dark as deep water.

So we paddle around on the surface, flying clear when we can and drifting when we can't; and occasionally we look down as we pass above the shallows and can see to the bottom, and we then proudly announce that we *understand* what happens when a person sleeps, we *understand* what lies in the depths.  But we haven't a clue, not really; we're just guessing to make ourselves feel a little more secure against the blackness we know lies just beneath us.

Sleep is a sea.  But it has shoals, and currents, and islands…..

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

The black sky overhead was spangled with stars; not long before, it would have been as blank and ungiving as a bottomless well, arching overhead in a gaze-swallowing expanse that made the eyes ache and turn away.  But now it held glittering, silvery pinpoints of light; and if the constellations didn't quite seem to match up with the ones that a person could see when they stepped outside or took a look through their window, well… it wasn't such a big deal, not really.

This WAS a dream, after all.

"---YEEEEEEK!!  LOOK OUT BELOOOOOOOOOW!!!  Whoops—"

Himitsu Rin's laughter rang through the fake-ice halls and corridors of Ice Palace Mountain, high at the highest point of the artificial mountain overlooking Tropical Land—or what *would* have been Tropical Land if they had been awake.  She came skidding on her backside out of a chute, the fiberglass beneath her slick with the polish imbued by multiple other backsides and whatever maintenance you did to keep such things working right; just ahead of her Edogawa Conan did his best to scurry out of her trajectory to no avail.

"AAACK!"

**Whumph!**

"Rin, that's my *head*-- get your foot out of my—OOOF!"  The sounds of two small bodies sliding across the smooth floor into the next chute mixed and echoed with the small girl's laughter and her companion's squawks.  When they at last came to rest on another landing, Conan braced them both with arms and legs and sprawled flat on his back on the slippery floor.  "Let's—take a—break, okay?" he panted; with a "Whoof!" of breath, Rin was only too happy to comply.

The hidden lights of the fake ice-cave glittered bluely off polished surfaces in all directions; occasional air-chutes pierced the ceiling above, allowing the dim starlight to filter down.  Rin lay in a loose heap, her hair in her face; she muttered something under her breath, and the boy beside her nudged her with an elbow.  "What?"

"Penguins…"

That was enough to make him turn his head.  "Huh?"

"No penguins."  At his inquiring grunt, she elaborated (which was just as well):  "The last time I was here, there were people in penguin costumes running this place—remember?  Cute, but awfully silly."

Conan snorted, a sound that might have come from his older self.  "Hot, too; do you remember seventh grade, when I had to wear that tanuki costume for the Green Day parade?  Thought I was going to melt right down into my shoes before we finished."  He blew out a breath; the diminutive detective was not wearing his glasses, and his hair was straggling into his eyes.  Rin reached across and moved a stray strand or two.

"Mmph.  You looked awfully cute too, but you sure griped a lot," the girl teased, stretching; the former Mouri Ran was wearing the skirt, t-shirt and adult-sized jacket that she had worn on her first evening of her second childhood  (*not* the pajamas that she had gone to sleep in, something that made her wonder occasionally just who was responsible for her dreamscape's Wardrobe and Costume Department).  She propped herself up on her elbows next to the entrance to the downward-slanting slide, her own hair sticking up any which way; rummaging around in her pockets, Rin pulled out a slightly squashed chocolate bar and broke it in half.

Conan sat up, shoving the rest of his hair out of his eyes; for a few minutes the two faux gradeschoolers munched in companionable silence while the Ice Cave's horrifyingly perky theme music played softly in the background.  He glanced sideways over at Rin, who pulled out a second, different kind of candy bar; "If you keep eating those things you'll get fat," he advised, licking his fingers.

She broke it in half as well, shaking her head.  "Nope.  We're dreaming, remember?  Dream-chocolate doesn't HAVE any calories."  **munch, munch**  "If I wanted to—"  **munch, munch**  "—I could eat a dozen of these and not gain a kilo."  **munch, munch, crunch**  "Sonoko'd be awfully jealous..… if I told her, that is, which I'm not going to do.  So stop making those choking noises."

Her companion allowed himself to slide back down onto his back again, wiping away mock-sweatdrops from his forehead.  "If you did, that'd be it for both of us; I mean, can't you just *hear* her?"  What Sonoko would think about their occasionally-shared dreamworld didn't bear thinking of—especially when you considered who else shared it with them…..

The first time the newly-'born' Edogawa Conan had managed to relax enough to get a real night's rest (one not haunted by frequent awakenings due to A) Black Organization-induced nightmares, B) Mouri Kogoro's snoring, or C) worries about just how badly Ran was going to hurt him when she at last found him out) he had landed in the middle of a very weird dream.  It had been more than a little disconcerting to find himself wandering across the parking-lot towards the gate of a very real-looking Tropical Land Theme Park… beside his former self, one Kudo Shinichi, tantei.

The hardest thing had been working out who was going to speak first; they had eyed each other with truly mutual suspicion as they walked, the boy's light footfalls pattering in a three-to-two rhythm with his older self's heavier stride.  Then, determined to be calm, Conan had stopped as they reached the gate and held out a hand.  "Uh… Hi.  I'm—my name is Edogawa Conan… but I guess you know that, don't you?"  Dark blue eyes had stared rather apprehensively up through thin glass lenses at their identical counterparts, which had blinked.

"Yeah, guess I do."  Not to be outdone in the game of Cooler-Than-Thou, the older detective shook the small hand gingerly.  "Kudo Shinichi….."

His smaller self had rolled his eyes.  "Tell me something I don't know."  Which, all things considered, had been quite difficult to manage.

That was how things had gone for a full year.  It didn't happen all the time; most nights were spent in either dreamless or unremembered slumber, or in the more normal kinds of sleep-induced fantasies and phantasms.  After a while Conan/Shinichi had begun to welcome the rather bizarre dreams; it was Big Time weird to find yourself talking to yourself (and even weirder to be answered), but at least they gave him some company… and a chance for a reasonable conversation with somebody more than three feet tall.  Somebody who *really* understood what he was going through, too—because when he woke up, he remembered *both* sides of the conversation.

And then, one year after his change, it had all changed again; for good or ill Mouri Ran had made a choice and had joined the ranks of what Conan privately called the Terminally Short.  The mind-numbing shock and guilty happiness (as well as relief, once he could admit it to himself) had been overwhelming; and then he and his other self had found out the weirdest thing of all… that they now had company in their dreams.  Conan and Shinichi had been joined by Rin and Ran, and they had had to rethink the whole 'split personality' thing all over again. 

It had been fairly reasonable to believe that Kudo Shinichi's altered brain had been handling its transformation by setting up an unusual sort of "coping mechanism," but when you found yourself on the following morning discussing some shared experience from the night before with somebody who existed OUTSIDE your head, that little explanation dissolved like smoke from Kiseki Eri's cooking.

If it hadn't made things so much better, it might have really worried them; the former Shinichi and Ran had both learned to believe in three unbelievable things before breakfast, but telepathy wasn't high on the list…..

After a while, the two of them (the four of them) had just decided not to think about it at all.  There were some things that needed to remain a mystery; otherwise, they might vanish the way a soap-bubble will when you touch it—and this little soap-bubble, as disturbing as its implications might be, brought an awful lot of comfort to four people (two people) who really needed it.

Comfort….. and a few other, less comfortable things as well—less comfortable, that is, if you're physically eight years old.

For instance:  What do you do when you're aware that somewhere your other self is almost certainly sitting on a bench with your companion's other self, engaged in—well—necking?

Answer:  Don't think about it; don't talk about it; and play until you're so tired you can hardly breathe.  After all, it's a dream, isn't it?  Sooner or later you'll wake up and then you'll remember what went on anyway…..  In the meantime, it was important not to blush (or at least to get so exhausted by running around like a crazy eight-year-old that any blushes went unnoticed).

Of course, in the back of your mind there was this little voice, going 'Jeeze, I wonder if we're having a good time…?'  And the only way to drown it out (until you woke up, that is, and found out) was to do something like climb to the top of Ice Palace Mountain and slide down its chutes, reach the bottom, and then do it all over again until your legs are wobbly.  And you try not to think about how your two alter-egos had firmly sent you away with threats of immediate doom if you came within eyesight for at least the next hour.

An hour.  A person could do a LOT in an hour.  That was *not* a productive thought, but you just couldn't help but think it anyway.

But it wasn't as if either Conan or Rin were really worried about their older selves getting in over their heads…  Having one's younger personae around (even at a considerable distance) acted as a very odd sort of chaperonage, which really didn't make sense; but there it was. 

Or so you hoped, if you were Conan and Rin.  Sort of, anyway.

Besides, if you couldn't trust *yourself,* who COULD you trust?  So the thing was to keep your mind off the subject and concentrate on wearing yourself out completely and utterly.

Yeah… right…..

"Something on your mind?"  Conan gave Rin an inquiring glance.  The girl finished the last of her candy-bar half, stuffing the wrapper back into a pocket.  Even in a dream she was reluctant to litter.

"Hm?"  She swung her legs around, preparing to continue their slide.  "Ohhh… nothing."  A little grin crept onto her heart-shaped face.  "Just wondering if we're having a good time out there—"

Conan felt his cheekbones burning; she wasn't supposed to SAY that!  "Why don't you go find out?" he suggested, raising his eyebrows as he grinned back and gave her a hefty shove with one foot.

"YEEEEEEEEEP!  CONAAAAAAAAN!!!"

**Whoosh!!!**

………. and meanwhile, off in the distance a little ways beyond the central castles and towers of Tropical Land……

….. two figures held onto each other tightly.

"I—I'm not sure about this, Shinichi…..  I'm a little scared.  I mean, what if I—what if I don't *like* it?  It'll be too late to stop once we—"

"Oh c'mon, Ran, it'll be okay, trust me.  When have I ever lied to you?"

Silence.  Big, deep, echoing silence with a glare in it.

"—errrr, I mean besides that entire year and all that.  And… it looks like fun, doesn't it?  You can't tell me you haven't been *thinking* about it ever since we—"

"—started coming here in our dreams, right…..  Okay, I admit it; I—I *HAVE* been thinking about it.  I even thought about it the last time we came here together as our grownup selves—you know, before you got shrunk.  And I admit, it's… well…..  But… Shinichi, it's, it's an awfully big s-step—"

"Shhhhh… it'll be okay, really it will.  And then we'll both know that there's nothing to be afraid of and we can do it again if we feel like it—"

She hesitated, looking into his eyes; they shone deep and blue back at her, melting her defenses.  "Well….."  She bit her lip.  Slowly Mouri Ran began to smile up at the young man who held her so closely in her arms; she gulped and nodded.  "Okay—but… you're going to have to tell me how to—"

He chuckled softly.  "*I've* never done this before *either,* remember?"  Kudo Shinichi pulled her a little closer, smiling as he felt the young woman relax against him.  "Anyway, how difficult can it be?  I used to see people do this at the beaches in Hawaii all the time—"

"Shinichi!  You did NOT!!"

"Sure I did—'course, you had to go to the right beaches…..  It'll be okay, Ran; trust me.  Now this is what you do…  First, relax; that's important.  Got that?  And you've got to position yourself just right, like *this*—if you start out wrong, it'll hurt.  Ready?  Good!  Deep breath now….."

She clung onto his hand, drawing back just a bit and turning.  "OoooooIdon'tKNOWaboutthisShinichiiiiiiiiii…"

"Ready……"

"Shinichiiiiiii…"  Her eyes grew huge.

"…aaaaaAAAAAND----- JUMP!!!"

With a duet of screams that were both terrified and exhilarated, the pair leaped off of the twelve-meter platform high, high above the deepest part of the Tropical Land swimming area.  The screams dopplered around each other through the night air as they plummeted like stones with voices, ending in a tremendous double **SPLASH!!!** that echoed off of the buildings for quite a ways around.

After a moment or two, they both surfaced with a resounding **WHOOF!!** of indrawn breath; Ran's hair was plastered across her face and she gasped like a fish as she treaded water, yanking a bathing-suit strap back into place (they had raided Tropical Land's shops for swimwear).  Beside her Shinichi shoved back his hair and laughed breathlessly, trying not to gulp water.  "Told—you—" he gasped, doing his best to regain his breath while a huge smile stretched from ear to ear; "—Told you it'd be fun—"

Ran flailed a little, bobbing down a bit as she swallowed water in an effort to breathe.  She caught him by the neck and shoulders, clinging hard and warm against his chest--and then suddenly she was kissing him.

Shinichi's eyes shot wide in a shock that was NOT due to the chill of the water or the twelve-meter drop he had just experienced; it had a lot more to do with suddenly having his equilibrium pulled *right* out from under him like the proverbial rug; when Ran did something like that, it tended to hit him that way.

And she had been doing that a lot lately, too…..

For a long, long moment her warmth was between Shinichi and the water, molded against his body; he could have drowned and not noticed.  Then, just as suddenly as she had nailed him Ran drew back, her eyes sparkling and a flush high on her cheeks.  "That was FUN," she gasped.  "Let's do it again!"  And with a splash she was off, swimming towards the pool's steps as fast as she could.  "Come on—"

Wearing a rather silly grin, the young detective attempted to re-engage his brain (it took some doing) and began heading towards the steps himself… only to suddenly halt and tread water as a familiar dizziness swept over him, stealing all sensation from his limbs and clouding his vision…  "Ran—ahh crap—"

"—I'm waking up—"

Her head jerked around, just in time to see her companion's form *BLUR* and vanish from its place in the waves.  For a long moment she stared, shoulders drooping, at where he had been.  Then, muttering things best left unheard, Mouri Ran turned back towards the edge of the pool.  Her face downcast, she climbed out and began toweling off as she sent a longing glance towards the floodlit pool; she had *so* hoped for a nice, long swim with Shinichi—and it hadn't exactly been easy to send their younger selves off, either.  Ran had just KNOWN that if the two of them had tried to jump from the highest platform with those two watching that she would have chickened out; for some reason, Himitsu Rin had far less of a fear of heights than her older self did.

"They would have heckled us and yelled all sorts of taunts until we felt like DROWNING them," she muttered to herself as she began tugging a comb through her long, soaking wet mass of hair.  "And THEN where'd we be?"  Ran snorted, wondering whether suicide or murder would be applicable in that case.

She sighed, wrapping the towel around her shoulders and slipping her shoes back on; it was time to locate her alter-ego, who would be equally as bereft.  Thinking long thoughts about kisses in a swimming pool, she trudged back along the lit cement paths into the park's main areas.

"I wonder why he woke up, anyway?"  A little sad, a little wistful, she went to find her other self.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

Waking was quick:  one moment he was in the water with Ran/on a slide with Rin, then he… wasn't.  The familiar sense of double vision rippled through him, making his thoughts seem to echo and bounce back, sending his mind reeling side-by-side and tripping over itself—

--and then he was Edogawa Conan, formerly Kudo Shinichi, wide awake and wondering what in the world had disturbed his sleep.

*Mrmph?........huh??  MMPH!!*  Something was blocking the light coming in through the window.  Something person-shaped, with an oblong, huge head and a glittering cyclopean eye—  The thing turned; light flashed as it moved, and he opened his mouth to shout out a warning, to wake up Rin and Kogoro and Eri—

It was across the room in a flash of ghostly white and a whisper of near-soundless movement; before he could even draw breath to yell, a hand was pressed firmly across his mouth, stifling his gasp of shock and all he could think was *ohSHITthey'veGOTme* before his brain kicked into action and he began to fight back.

One hand pinned his shoulder to the mattress for a bare second, and he thought wildly of his watch, lying on the desk over by the window; *shitshitSHIT----*

"Shhhhh…." whispered the crouching figure, his face a pale blur in the darkness.  "No need to wake anybody else up, ne?"  The monocle above him glittered like a full moon, so close that Conan could see his own dark reflection in its lens.  Against his lips the pressure of a gloved hand stayed, though, until he nodded fractionally; then it was released, and his visitor was abruptly several feet away again.

The whole thing had taken  less than ten seconds.  How the hell did anybody *move* like that?!?  Conan glared furiously at the thief who leaned against the windowsill, hands tucked loosely into his pockets.  The brim of the hat tilted, shadowing the planes of his half-hidden face as a smile gleamed in the dark.  "I believe you wanted to see me?" 

Slowly the boy sat up, shoving the covers back.  His mind reeled at the other's audacity—how dared he actually invade his adversary's own home, his very room?  *Goddamn arrogant son of a— shit, I can't BELIEVE he just burglarized my room--!!  If Hattori ever hears about this he'll never let me live it down…*

*…and he could've timed it better too; if there was one time I didn't want to stop dreaming, this was it.*

Seething, he cleared his throat.  "Hell of a time to pay a visit," he growled, the angry words coming out peculiarly in his young boy's voice.  Conan winced; he sounded like a sulky child, but dammit--!!  "You could have picked a better location.  Why break in on me like this?  Obviously I know who you are now—"  He tensed a little as the pale figure in the window shifted a little, but the Kid merely settled a hip on the sill, apparently perfectly at ease.

The Phantom Thief shrugged, that smile gleaming in his shadowy face again.  "Maybe I just felt like being… neighborly.  You visited MY home, so why shouldn't I visit YOURS?"  He chuckled; there was real humor in the sound.

Sarcasm sharpened Conan's answer; he crossed his arms defiantly, eyes flickering towards the closed door for a second.  "And I suppose you want to know how I found out where you live?  By the way, Kuroba-san," and he had the satisfaction of seeing his opponent twitch very slightly at the name, "how's your wound doing?  I didn't expect to see you up and around so fast—"

(Down the hall a door creaked open with the tiniest of sounds; there was a soft, near-silent scuff of footsteps approaching.)

The other shrugged again noncommittally, but his smile had disappeared.  "Ah well, you know us Phantom Thieves; thick-hided, the lot of us.  However," and the soft voice sharpened just a bit, "I'm not really concerned about how you found out; that's fairly obvious, isn't it?  You staked out Ayumi-chan's place and followed me home.  By the way," and now the voice really HAD gained an edge, "don't blame 'Yumi-chan for helping me; she's a good kid, and she did her best to take care of a friend who was hurt and needed help."  The face seemed to have settled almost into blankness, a careful, closed expression that told very little.  But the voice…..  "Don't get her involved; the less known about her friendship with me the better."

"You've already gotten her involved, you idiot!  What the hell were you *doing,* hiding out on a little girl's balcony?"  The young detective gritted his teeth, trying to keep his voice down despite the rising tide of red that was beginning to shade his vision.  "ANYWHERE else would've been better!  Goddamn it, if she gets in trouble because of you I'll—"

"—you'll *what,* precisely?  Throw me to the wolves?"  Now the cool voice was as sharp as a piece of broken ice, razory and cutting.  "You do that and you'll be hurting her far worse than anything I could do; there's no way in hell I'd let on that I knew her, in jail or out of it, but do you think SHE'LL keep quiet?  Not likely—she's a kid, and she's loyal; you should know that better than anyone.  So let's just drop the threats and give each other a little room to breathe, shall we, Kudo-san?  Neither one of us has the leisure for that sort of thing."

The young detective opened his mouth to retort angrily and then subsided a little; while it would have been extremely satisfying to put a soccer-ball alongside the thief's head, he had to admit that Kuroba was right.  "Fine," he spat, still working to keep his voice down.  "But risk her in any way… and that's it; I don't give a damn about secrets or anything else.  You're not going to get an innocent in trouble."

(A hand on the doorknob then, and a pause while someone in the hallway listened to the conversation inside.  Two sleep-befuddled eyes grew wide awake with memory and with fury.)

They matched glare for glare for a few long, uneasy seconds; then, simultaneously, they each looked away.  "Fine," said the Kid briefly; Conan grunted in affirmative.  "And now that THAT little head-butting's over, why did you want to talk to me?  I assume it's not to capture me or attempt to persuade me to turn myself in; if you wanted me in jail, you would have led the police to my door yourself."  One eyebrow arched beneath the shadows of the hatbrim.  "Now you know about me, just like I know about you; I'm here—and this time, you didn't have to hide under a HelloKitty umbrella; I came of my own accord.  Well?"

Conan sighed, still more than a little pissed off at the thief's attitude.  For the second time he opened his mouth to answer…..

….. and fate stepped into the room in the shape of a very angry, very determined Himitsu Rin, her dart-pendant cocked, aimed and ready.  Her mouth was set into grim lines that sat oddly on her small, pink-cheeked little-girl's face; she brought the crosshairs up and her fingers moved as Kaitou Kid suddenly jerked into movement, sweeping his cloak around as an impromptu shield—

**thwipp!!**

The tiny dart struck home, flicking past the thin flap of material and impacting in pinpoint accuracy on the narrow band of exposed skin between the Kid's collar and jawline; he yelped, one gloved hand swatting at the sting….. and then swayed.

"Got him!" cheered Rin, hopping up and down like the small child she so resembled.

"Awp!" yelped the Kid, his one visible eye widening, staring, glazing over---

--- and then a very, very odd thing happened.  He wobbled, face growing slack as the two held their breath; clinging to the windowsill the thief swore under his breath, desperation and drugged sleepiness slurring the words.  But then—then it was as if something shoved the tide of chemical-induced fog back, fought it down and stomped it right out of his system; both hands tightened their grip, pulling him upright as the haze cleared from his face.

"@#$%!!" said the Kid, rubbing his neck and glaring.

"Damn!" said Rin, the word deeply heartfelt.

Conan just watched, eyes nearly popping out.  No-one had ever, EVER fought off the drug's effect like that—not even Gin, who had once shot himself through the shoulder to keep himself awake.  The chemical was fast-acting and foolproof… until now, at least.  *What the hell?  He ought to be a pile on the floorboards by now!  Oh, for crying out loud-- dammit, Kid, can't you EVER do what you're expected to do?*

Rin was looking distinctly worried; she edged through the doorway towards Conan, who slid off the mattress to drop directly in front of her—or at least he *would* have been in front of her if she hadn't firmly caught his hand and stood directly beside him in defiant, preadolescent solidarity.  She was still gripping her dartgun-pendant, and the dismay in her face was tempered with what Conan suspected to be a determination to get off another shot.

The Kid forestalled this, holding up a hand.  "I suppose I deserved that for knocking you out on your friend's ship," he grumbled, still rubbing his neck with the other hand.  "Y'know, those damned little darts STING at close range."  He gave his head a shake, the triangular charm on his monocle swinging.  "Truce, please?  I really didn't come here for a fight—as a matter of fact, you could even say I was *invited,* ne?  You DID go to all that trouble of leaving me a note….."

Rather grudgingly, Conan nodded; he had, after all.  Beside him Rin's eyes narrowed.  "Maybe so, but—"

The Phantom Thief sighed.  "Look, would it help matters if I said I was sorry?"  With a flourish he dropped to one knee, sweeping off his hat with one hand and placing the other over his heart as he bowed his head.  "Please accept my most humble and sincere apologies for knocking you out and taking your place during the Black Pearl incident; I didn't like doing it, but… in any case, I'm sorry."   He remained kneeling, looking back up at the small girl's face hopefully.  "And to prove my sincerity, please accept this as well—I believe it's time it was given back to its proper owners…"  A small, flat package suddenly lay in the hand that had lain over his heart; white paper and white ribbons glimmered in the room's dim light as Rin stared at it mistrustfully.

For a long moment no-one moved; then, like a wild bird being lured to a hand full of birdseed, the former Mouri Ran stepped forward and accepted the package (leaving behind a Conan quivering with nerves).  "What is it?" she asked warily, not yet tugging at the ribbons.

The thief merely raised an eyebrow.  "Harmless, I promise.  Go ahead and open it."

Hesitantly she tugged at a ribbon; the wrappings fell away easily, revealing a plain white box with a lid.  Behind her Conan cleared his throat.  "Kuroba, if there's *anything* in there that'll—"

The kneeling figure replaced his hat on his rather wild dark hair and (so far as he could tell through darkness and the monocle) rolled his eyes.  "Oh, give it a rest, Kudo; TRUST me-- and stop with the 'Kuroba's', would you please?  'Kid' will do quite nicely." 

Dark blue eyes narrowed.  "Bite me… Kuroba."  The thief only laughed softly, interrupted a moment later by a gasp as Rin carefully removed the lid.

"!!!" 

Jaw dropping almost comically, she stared at the glittering thing inside; even in the shadowy room it threw back a cascade of tiny rainbows, spangling everything with miniscule dots of light.  The Phantom Thief stared at the Rose Tiara a little regretfully.  "'Yumi-chan really liked playing with that," he muttered with a sigh; "A pity I couldn't let her keep it.  Don't worry about her fingerprints being on it anywhere, though; I cleaned it off very nicely before I wrapped it."

Interested despite himself, the former Kudo Shinichi blinked.  "How?"

The thief got back on his feet, taking his former place on the windowsill again; he chuckled, adjusting his hat.  "Let's just say that you'd be amazed what a rock-tumbler and a large amount of rubber shavings will do towards cleaning jewelry," he commented whimsically.  "So?  Apology accepted, Mouri-san---errr, Himitsu-san?  Or do I still need to be on the lookout for sleeping-darts?"

The small girl still glared up at him dangerously through narrowed eyes; in her sleep-tousled, pajama'd state she shouldn't have looked remotely threatening… but she did, and the Phantom Thief was treating her with a respect that mollified her temper just a little.  "Just… stay over there, okay?"

He looked hurt, heaving a theatrical sigh.  "As you wish…"  Tucking one leg up beneath him, the Kid leaned insouciantly against the side of the open window.  The monocle flashed again as he glanced around the room.  "Nice place you've got here, Kudo-san; much better than sleeping on Mouri-tantei's floor, ne?  I take it you've been redecorating over the last few months…"

The other two followed his gaze.  When Mouri Kogoro had begun to attempt a true reconciliation with his estranged wife, Conan had found himself abruptly being kicked out of his former sleeping quarters and into a tiny cleared-out closet of a room once used to archive old files and other junk in; he had applauded the change with relief.  It was unbelievably nice to have space of his own, not to have to sleep among the litter of Ojisan's bedroom floor on an old futon anymore.  Since then he had added his own little touches to the walls and shelves—a photo here, a group of books there…  Once his identity had been made known he had been able to transfer over a few things from his own house as well; now the walls sported several soccer-team posters and an autographed flyleaf from a century-old magazine in a frame (courtesy of Heiji the previous Christmas).  It didn't look much like a little kid's bedroom at all.

Both of the shorter of the room's occupants watched narrowly as their white-clad visitor leaned forward a bit from his perch, peering through the gloom at the faded piece of paper.  "'The Hound of the Baskervilles, Chapter One,' ehh?  And autographed too; quite a piece of memorabilia for a Holmes admirer.  Now me, I'm more of an Arsene Lupin fan myself; I like his style."

Conan snorted.  "Imagine that," he said dryly.  "How are you managing to read the title in the dark, anyway?"

Oddly enough, the question seemed to give the Phantom Thief pause; his calm façade slid a little for just a moment, the change visible in the dim city-glow filtering in through the window.  "I… never mind.  Not important."  He shrugged, the movement strongly akin to the way a bird settles its feathers after an upset.   "I believe you wanted to talk about something?"

Conan shifted restlessly; beside him, Rin pulled herself up to sit on the bed a little behind him, fingers still stroking the glittering tiara.  "You could say that….."  He took a deep breath, trying to fight down the bad case of nerves that having a known felon in his room kept trying to bring on.  "When I talked to you in the park you told me a little about the men who killed your father.  I have a question or two to ask you about them." 

The thief seemed to be staring rather moodily across the room at the framed document on the wall.  "'Strand Magazine, August 1901,'" he said apparently at random; the English words were oddly weighted with what almost sounded like… trepidation? uncertainty?  It was hard to tell.  "What questions?"

Conan blinked; there was no way the tiny text at the bottom of the page could have been visible through the dark from all the way across his bedroom, no matter how small the place was.  Very weird.  He jerked his mind back to business with a mental shrug.  "What were they wearing when you saw them?"

THAT was enough to startle his visitor; he stared at the boy standing beside the bed with disbelieving eyes and raised eyebrows.  "Excuse me?  You went to all the trouble to invite me over just so we could chat about the fashion statements of villains and murderers?  …..and they call ME crazy?"

There was a low noise from behind Conan, one that almost might have been a growl; it was accompanied by a tail-tale **click-CLICK** as Rin armed her dartgun-pendant once again, but the Kid was unfazed.  He shook his head, looking apologetic.  "I wouldn't bother, Himitsu-san; I doubt it'd have any more effect than your first try did.  As to your question…" and he turned back to Conan, "… the few times I've gotten a good look at the bad guys in anything other than disguises they were wearing exclusively black.  Black jackets, black trenchcoats, black suits.  What's wrong with villains these days, anyway?  How tacky; haven't they learned that the Revolution can be *cheerful?*"

Conan glared.  "Look, can we leave the color-coordination issue to one side for a minute?  The point is…" and he hesitated, trying to think of how to say what needed to be said.  "It's like this…" and he hesitated again, stalling.  It was just too damned *humiliating* to come out and say something like 'We need to work together' to a goddamned wanted felon—especially THIS goddamned wanted felon.  He ground his teeth in frustration as the thief raised an eyebrow.

An impatient throat-clearing sort of sound broke the waiting silence; predictably, Rin had had enough.  "What he's trying to say is that the bad guys you're after and the bad guys we're after may be—well, probably ARE—the same people.  We're fighting the same enemies, and we thought maybe we could trade information."  At the indignant Conan-born splutters that erupted from this she crossed her arms and shrugged; "Well, that's right, isn't it?"

All traces of Shinichi had vanished by now into the aspect of a sulky eight-year-old.  He muttered something that might have been an affirmative as she continued.  "The people we're up against—the ones responsible for our being..." and she held her hands out one above the other, roughly a foot apart, "… They always wear black.  We overheard what you said to—what was her name?"  She tapped the boy in front of her on the shoulder.

"… Nakamori Aoko…"  Sulk, sulk; he continued glaring at the Kid.

"That was it, Nakamori-san—something about, um, 'those bastards in black'… and Shinichi and I put two and two together."  The little girl looked mildly embarrassed at the profanity.  "Those men who killed your father—they're part of some sort of organization?   One that wears black all the time?  Do you know anything else about them?"

The white-clad thief's face had slipped back into its calm, expressionless mode at the mention of his father's murderers; now he gave a brief nod.  "I do; but why should I tell you?  What's to prevent you from turning me in, getting Aoko into a world of trouble with her father, and then going after the baddies yourselves once you've got what you want from me?  Why should I cooperate?"  There was an odd gleam in his one visible eye that nearly matched the glitter of his monocle for coldness.  "You two, both of you… and I… we're total opposites, thief and thief-takers; why should we work together?  A partial truce for Ayumi's sake, that's one thing—but this?  Why should I trust you?"   Defiance flashed in both the glass lens and the shadowy eye.

"Because we have a common goal, you moron… and because that way we won't be tripping over each other every other second," Conan snapped fiercely.  "You're not just playing cops-and-robbers now, you're risking your own life and *the lives of others* when you go after a target, correct?  The stakes've been raised… and you said it yourself when we talked the last time:  You don't let other people get hurt."  His face was very intent as logic battled with the irritation and mistrust.  "Did you really mean that?  Or was it just a convenient little platitude?  Your friend Nakamori Aoko… her father's already been shot at several times; do you want *HER* to be a target as well?"

The still face beneath the shading hat-brim flickered; emotion crossed it as fleetingly as moonlight.  "Go on; I'm listening."

Conan grimaced, hopping up onto the bed to sit beside Rin with his feet dangling; she shifted over to make room.  "Don't think I like the idea of working with you any better than you do—OR of trusting you.  I'm *supposed* to be trustworthy; you, by definition, are not.  But you're in a lot more trouble than you think right now, if what we've deduced is correct….."  He stared up at the impassive face.  "Well?  Interested?  Or shall we just say goodnight right here and keep our secrets to ourselves?"

Silence.

Heavy footsteps in the hallway were all the warning the three in the room had; there was a sudden flurry of movement on the bed and by the window, and—

"Kudo?"  The door to the hall creaked open, allowing a thin line of light to fall like a knife across the foot of the bed; from his place on the pillow, the boy blinked up at Mouri Kogoro.  The private detective's hair was rumpled and he scrubbed at his eyes briefly with one hand.  "What the hell's all the noise?  Thought I heard voices—"

The room's (apparent) sole inhabitant yawned.  "Uh… sorry; didn't mean to wake you up.  I was, um, listening to my radio; I just turned it off.  Didn't mean to make so much noise—I, uh, couldn't sleep."  He tugged the covers up a little further, unobtrusively sliding back towards the wall.

The older man grunted.  "Keep it down, will you?  Some of us have to get up early tomorrow…"  Muttering, he gave the room a disinterested glance and stomped down the hall towards his room; the sound of his door closing behind him was clearly audible.

Silence again, broken by a muffled laugh as Rin slid from her hiding place beneath the covers between the boy and the wall; she sat up cross-legged, eyes dancing.  "Now *that* could've been kind of awkward—"

Slipping back towards the window from where he had hidden in Conan's closet, the Phantom Thief eyed them both—and in particular, Conan—with a grin.  "So it could.  And please note that I wouldn't *DREAM* of making any comments about you two being in bed together and all that….."

The former Kudo Shinichi flushed a deep red, embarrassment practically setting his face on fire as he hurriedly sat up again.  "Considering how many times YOU'VE been coming out of closets lately, I wouldn't start."

"Not a word," the Kid assured him sincerely.  Rin fought back another giggle. 

He cleared his throat softly, still grinning a little; the tension in the room seemed to have been broken rather neatly by the Amazing Sleepless Kogoro's appearance.  "Now:  back to the subject.  What's all this about my being in more trouble than I think?  And as much as it goes against my grain and every Phantom Thief Union law on the record, I'm willing to strike a full truce with you if you'll keep up your end of the bargain.  I meant what I said about no innocents suffering because of my little feud, and if sharing information helps with that, then I'm all for it."  He sighed, a rueful sound.  "My father's probably doing backflips in his grave about now—his son, dealing honestly with a detective….."

Rin gave a very unladylike snort.  "'Honestly'?"

He nodded.  "'Honestly;' if we're going to play a game of Poker with one another, I'd prefer no cheating or stacking of the deck—or we'll ALL lose and the bad guys will win.  I don't think any of us want that."  Carefully one white-gloved hand pulled Conan's desk-chair over to the window; straddling the seat with his arms dangling across the back, the thief peered at them beneath the brim of his hat.  "Alright… now, one more time from the top:  What *exactly* did you mean by my being in trouble?"

"Wait a second—"  Rin was frowning, a thoughtful look on her face… leavened with a good portion of stubbornness; Conan blinked; he had seen that look before, and it usually spelled trouble.  "Before we start explaining… this 'honesty' thing….."  At the thief's inquiring look she fixed him with a very Mouri Ran look, crossing her arms.  "You know who we are, we know who you are; *we're* willing to tell you the truth in good faith… but it's like Shinichi said:  we're supposed to be honest.  How do we know you'll deal fairly with us?  You could do a lot more damage if you let our secrets leak out than we could if we exposed you—you could just run; you're awfully good at getting away from the police, aren't you?"

The shadowy figure shrugged.  "Of course.  So… what do you want from me?  All I can give is my word…"

She shook her head.  "You can do one other thing, just as a sort of guarantee that you're going to be truthful with us… especially if we're going to work together."  Rin took a deep breath and sat forward, her eyes taking on a gleam that made the thief look slightly uneasy.  "You can show us your face."

"………! ! !……."

Even Conan was taken a little aback at this, though a large part of his mind became heavily involved in doing a sort of mental victory-dance complete with cheers and crowd noises.  They hadn't gotten a good look at Kuroba Kaito during their earlier eavesdropping (although *he* had seen the Kid's face relatively clearly during their little chat in the park).  And Rin—that is, RAN (she was sounding more Ran-like than ever just now) wanted to see what he looked like? 

*Whoa…..*  The room rang with silence; Kaitou Kid sat so still that he scarcely seemed to breathe.

At last he spoke.  "It all comes down to risks and what they pay for, doesn't it?  When I started all this… when I said I'd avenge my father's death, I swore that I'd pay any price to do it.  But the only person who can pay is ME; nobody else, not Aoko, not Ayumi—not even you two."  An oddly wry little smile tugged at his mouth; the Kid seemed to be breathing a little faster.  "So… you want to see my face, do you?  Would this have anything to do with revenge, Mouri-san?"

She smiled back, just a small smile but a very satisfied one.  "Maybe...  Think of it as a gesture of good faith.  Now, the question is… do you have the—the *courage* to do it?"  She looked at Conan.  "What's that word I've heard Sonoko use—'chutzpah'?"  And then she turned back towards the thief, her eyes daring him to answer.

Conan nodded but held his peace.  Inside, though, he was chortling; *Go Ran!* and wishing strongly for a camera.  Not for nothing was she the daughter of a former cop… *He won't do it, though.   There are some risks even the Kaitou Kid won't take.*  Somewhere behind Conan's quiet face Kudo Shinichi shook his head and fought back a twinge of sympathy; he remembered what it had been like, that moment when he took off his own masks and gave the truth to Ran.  *There's only so far a person can go.  And if everything I've guessed about Kuroba is right, then his world is already a pretty tense one; this may just be too much to ask.*

But it was a funny thing...  The Kid was looking at him now, almost as if he could read the boy's thoughts; and the look of closed-door refusal was changing into something else, the kind of something you saw when the Phantom Thief was about to do something…

…improbable.

*No way.  He wouldn't… would he?*

At last the white-clad thief sighed a long and rueful sigh; his gaze had turned inwards, and he almost seemed to be on the verge of laughing—at himself, maybe.  "You know, if I get killed during a heist sometime in the future, my dad's going to thump me on the head when I see him in the Afterlife for even considering doing something this stupid," he said mournfully, pinching the bridge of his nose as if he had a headache.  "Ahh, well….."  The Kid gave a fatalistic shrug.  "Never mind.  No rewards without risk.  Turn on the lamp, Mouri-san."

Rin's forehead wrinkled.  "Huh?" she said inelegantly, puzzled.  Beside her the boy's eyebrows shot up into his hairline.

"Well, you didn't expect to be able to see what I look like without light, did you?"

The girl stared at him wordlessly; her fingers clenched the blankets, white-knuckled even in the dark.  Conan was actually closer to the lamp, so he reached past her and clicked it on.

Stark light flooded the room, making them all blink and lending an air of unreality to the scene that the shadows had hidden.  Somehow, seeing the Phantom Thief so plainly in open and uncomplicated view made him seem even less substantial than before, even with the lamp-light shining through his monocle and showing the color of his eyes with startling vividness.  The two not-children sat together on the bed, watching his motionless form; then, moving with a strange deliberation, the Kid reached up and removed monocle and hat together, raising his unshielded face to their gaze.

*Shit; he's… he really IS as young as I thought he was, no older.  No older than me, or Ran.  Look at that; he could be one of the guys I used to go to school with.*

Kaitou Kid-- *Kuroba Kaito*-- stared back at them, tousled dark hair overhanging a thin, mobile face set with remarkably expressive eyes that just then held a great deal of suppressed wariness.  Bereft of his disguise, he had an air about him of something poised to flee, something that was staying in one place only due to an act of will.

All things concerned, Conan supposed that that was true; giving yourself away willingly *was* an act of will and harder than hell, too, no matter who you were.  He knew that better than anybody.  And a part of him was pretty damned impressed and more than a little shocked.  *He really did it…*

The Phantom Thief shifted nervously beneath their regard.  "Go ahead," he said a little too abruptly; "Take a good long look."  He cleared his throat, his gloved fingers tightening on the brim of his hat; the young man's face was rather pale in the lamplight, and the quick, controlled movement he made as he leaned back with forced nonchalance on the chair strongly suggested a wish to either leave or to turn the light off.  "Well?  Happy now?"  His voice sounded… odd, rougher than the smooth, low tones of his other self.  The sharp, restless eyes flickered from one watcher's face to the other.  "Or do you want my fingerprints as well?"

Rin's voice was subdued.  "You're a lot younger than I thought you'd be."

He gave a soft almost-laugh, thin laugh-lines crinkling a little.  "Yeah, well… Pot?  Kettle?  Black?"  One dark eyebrow quirked up.  "Look who's talking, Mouri-san."

For several long minutes the three simply stared at each other.  Kuroba sat quietly, not saying a word as they looked their fill.  A muscle in the young magician's face twitched briefly before being controlled, but he never lowered his eyes.  Look at me, those eyes seemed to say; Look at me.  This is what I chose to be for my father's sake, for reasons of my own and because it felt like the right thing to do.  Look at me.  I'm not ashamed to be what I am.  Are *you?*

Look at me.

At last, Conan's eyebrows slowly rose.  "Kuroba?"  He tilted his head to one side.  "You know, you're a hell of a lot quieter as—uh, like this than you are as the Kid."  For some reason he felt a trace of a grin trying to sneak out; he fought to keep it out of his voice.

The young man opposite him blinked; a slow smile crept back onto his face.  It looked remarkably at home there.  "You have GOT to be the first person to *ever* call ME quiet…" he muttered, regaining a little of his cheerfulness back.  He clapped his hat back on with an air of distinct relief and fitted the monocle back into place; its triangular charm swung jauntily.  "So!  Now that that's over, how about finally explaining that remark of yours about my 'being in more trouble than I know,' hmmmmm...?  You know, the one you made before I bared my soul—or my face, at least—to you?"  His voice had dropped unconsciously (or perhaps consciously; how could you tell?) with the resumption of his disguise back to Kaitou Kid's smooth, low half-whisper, and he sat forward a bit, eyes fixed expectantly on his audience.

The two faux gradeschoolers looked at each other, returning to their previous topic with an abrupt jerk of reality setting in.  "Uhh—right."  The boy took a deep breath, his mind groping for words.  "It's… like this….."

It only took a few minutes for Conan and Rin to explain; their young voices made a peculiar duet of the harsh, cold facts as they spelled out what had been deduced the previous evening.  It was plain enough, once you had all the facts and could look at them in with clear sight:  the senior Kuroba had died *not* while acting as the Kid, but in his civilian identity.  Therefore, his enemies had known who he was—and they certainly knew who had taken his place as the Phantom Thief, International Criminal #1412, the Kaitou Kid.

His son…..

…..and if his father's murderers were part and parcel of the Black Organization, they left nothing to chance; he was quite definitely under surveillance and probably had been for years.  And not only him, but his friends and family as well:  Kuroba Hikarue, Nakamori Ginzo, Nakamori Aoko…..

For *years.*

And THAT was what shook the Phantom Thief's composure, far more even than his unmasking—not the fact that his enemies were overwhelmingly larger and better organized than he had thought, not even the immediate danger that he stood in, with his identity known and his life under watch.  No, it was Conan's dry, quiet explanation of how the Black Organization tended to cover all bases by what could be called a 'slash-and-burn' policy—no witnesses, no relatives or coworkers or acquaintances of witnesses left alive.  Not one.

That was what shook him; that was what made the shoulders beneath the white jacket tense, made the gloved hands ball into fists that strained the fabric and sent creaking noises from where they gripped the back of the chair. 

"…..no….." 

He was on his feet before they saw him move, and halfway out the open window before they realized what he was up to.  "STOP, you idiot!!" hissed Conan, catapulting himself from the bed and grabbing wildly at a fold of cloak; it slid through his fingers like mist, but made the white figure pause for a bare second, looking back with one leg slung over the sill.  "Look," said the boy desperately; "Panicking isn't going to solve anything; if they haven't killed anybody from your 'civilian' life so far, it isn't likely they're going to tonight—" 

Behind him he could hear Rin as she slid down, landing with a soft thud of small bare feet.  "Don't go—"  Her words were as desperate as his, the urgency cutting through the young-girl soprano of her voice;  "There's more—if you go, how will you know who to fight?  And you haven't told us *your* side yet."

The Kid jerked the last bit of his cloak from Conan's grasp; in the dim light his face was set and very pale.  "Let GO of me, dammit!!  You don't know—"  The cool voice was no longer cool and the dark blue eye was merely dark, all blueness submerged in fear; for a second the dim streetlights outside the window seemed to reflect back like candle-flames from his pupils. 

The young detective grabbed again for the folds of white cloak.  "Will you—goddammit, STOP!"  He hung on, digging his heels in and trying to keep his voice down.  "You *said* you wouldn't let anybody else get hurt—how the hell can you keep them safe if you don't know everything you can about who you're fighting?!?"  With all his might he struggled to keep hold of his handful, wondering what the hell the damned thing was made of, anyway?  It slithered out of his grip as if with a slippery life of its own.

Two small hands joined his, the thin fingers biting into the pale cloth beside them; "Ayumi—think of Ayumi—"

But it was too late; the fabric slid from their clutches like iced silk.  Gravity and impetus won, and the white figure of the Kid was suddenly *outside* the window and halfway down an unnoticed rope.  Swearing, halfway between fury and desperation, Conan reached impotently after the departing thief—

--and gravity won *again.*  He toppled forward; behind him he heard "SHINICHIII!" as Rin tried and failed to hold him…..

*OH SHIT*

For a split-second he was falling, face-first to meet the ground in a very up close and personal way….. and then **YANK!!** and he was suddenly dangling feet-downwards by his pajama collar, arms flailing as a furious voice hissed in his ear:

"Will you SHUT UP already?  I should've just let you drop—and if you keep twisting around like that, I will!"  He hadn't even realized that he had been yelling.  Lights were coming on above in Mouri's room, Rin was leaning halfway out of his own window, and Conan felt himself being hoisted up like a sack full of groceries as the Phantom Thief who had saved him shimmied one-handed back up the rope.

*Well, that was—oof!—ONE way to get him to stay for a second--*  The boy half-fell through his window as the Kid shoved him through and released his collar.  Angry mutterings from the thief behind him put paid to any notions of continuing their conversation; as Mouri Kogoro's heavy footfalls came towards them down the hall, he scrambled to his feet and stuck his head back through again after his hastily-departing rescuer, a mere blur in the shadows at this point.  "Tomorrow afternoon in the park!" hissed the boy; "We still—"

He was talking to… darkness.  The Phantom Thief was gone.

*Goddamned escape artists…..*

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

For some reason, Conan thought that the Amazing Sleepless Kogoro did *not* quite buy his explanation for all the noise.

Admittedly, saying that he hadn't been able to sleep, had been watching a bat from his window and had fallen out only to be rescued by Rin (who had heard his calls for help as he hung from the sill) was rather fishy….. but what else could he say?  "Well, actually, I fell out the window trying to persuade the Kaitou Kid to hang around and continue our friendly late-night chat"?

No.

But Ojisan gave him odd, suspicious looks for days.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

The Phantom Thief was halfway home and right at the edge of a rooftop when his common-sense caught up with him and smacked him in the back of the head, freezing him in place with one foot on the edge of an air-vent and both hands tight on a guardrail.  He cursed to himself briefly as the rush of panic faded, taking with him a lot of his adrenaline.  *Well, hell; I could've handled that a little better, couldn't I?  Way to GO, Thief Boy—Kudo probably thinks you're a blithering idiot by now.  And he's not far from right, either.*  He paused, slumping down in the shadow of an air-conditioning unit to consider his next move and the facts that he had learned.

So his enemies had just gone from a small, deadly group of bad guys to an overwhelmingly huge, far-reaching organization of bad guys; nothing to panic over, right?  *Right.  And tomorrow I'll skip school and go swimming at the beach with all the fishies.  Sure I will.*

Kaito bit his lip, feeling something of an idiot as he glanced back towards the direction he had come; granted, he could turn around and go back to his little talk with the Short Brigade—but no, by now the noise had undoubtedly wakened the others and all the lights were on.  He mentally thwapped himself upside the head; *Baka; you made a sloppy exit.  Dad'd be annoyed—he always hated poor showmanship.*

The late night breeze swirled the lightweight cloak about him in drifts of silvery white; as thoughts of his father's disapproval passed through his mind, the heir to Kuroba Toichi sighed and wrapped it tightly around him in fistfuls as if seeking comfort from the garment.  *Wonder if Dad ever realized just what he was up against?  Wonder if he understood the truth before he died—that his killers weren't just a collection of smarter-than-average thugs with ambition, but instead some sort of big, black criminal octopus, with tentacles all over Japan—all over the world, maybe?  I'll never know.*  The news was sobering; how the hell did you fight something this big?

*Kudo was right, and so was Mouri-san; I should've stayed and learned more.  Tomorrow, then; the park again.  Great.  I'm beginning to develop a reeeeeeal dislike of trees-----*

Well, nothing he could do about that; he set off for home, a bad feeling lingering in the back of his mind and filling it with the itchy sensation that incipient panic brings.  Kudo had been right; if they hadn't dragged him off or killed him in his 'civilian' persona by now, it wasn't likely that they were going to… and that went for his friends and family as well.  If they were using him as a stalking horse to find the Pandora Gem (which sounded likely), then their best bet was to let him do his job without the little distractions that kidnapping or killing his nearest and dearest would bring.

He had to keep telling himself that, over and over; otherwise he'd lose it all over again.

Of course, considering their recent habit of taking pot-shots at him *during* heists, both he and Kudo might be entirely wrong about the whole idea.  Kaito suppressed a quiver of panic as he skirted a flimsy-looking patch on a rooftop and then tightrope-walked his way along a familiar railing (he had been to the Mouri's enough times that the route was old hat by now); *Everybody'll be fine, at least for the moment; Mom's staying with Aunt Mariko for a while, and Aoko's…*

*…Aoko's staying with me.  And I'm almost definitely under surveillance.  Holy jumpingSHIT.  No, no, don't panic; she's safer with you than out of your sight—and at least now you can tell her what you know.  And the sooner the better, too.*

This was not going to be fun; in fact, this was going to be all KINDS of difficult.  And it didn't help that he still got the internal shakes every time he thought about what his *other* little vulnerability, the one that had happened only a little while earlier.  *Man, I still don't believe I unmasked for those two.  But Mouri-san had a valid point; it *was* a sort of display of good faith on my part.  Damn, though—I will NEVER underestimate that little pipsqueak of a girl again—she's nearly as scary as Kudo!*

Moving automatically, he slid aside a metal cover on an unused-looking grating at a neglected little alcove of a warehouse rooftop; it moved quite silently for something so rusty, almost as though it had been carefully oiled….. which, of course, it had been; Kaito had quite a number of ways back to his house, and he looked after them meticulously.  The maps his father had left behind of escape routes, tunnels, convenient hiding places and lying-low spots had been somewhat outdated but still unbelievably useful; this part of Tokyo was absolutely riddled with the oddest bits and pieces of left-over real estate, unused rooms, scraps of built-over spaces and basements and steam tunnels and drainage systems and…..

*It'd be a crime to not make use of 'em,* he mused absentmindedly as he climbed soundlessly down the narrow ladder inside the grating; it took his weight without complaint.  *We Phantom Thieves are nothing if not opportunists.  It's in the Union Rules.*  Most of the routes were used while he was in his everyday clothes, too, like he had that evening; it was much better to change into his working gear while at the scene of the crime, so to speak (although not always; in the beginning he had frequently donned his other persona in his father's old lair and traveled from there.  A surprising number of the routes were attached to the Kuroba residence in one fashion or another).

Speaking of changing…..  The young thief dropped the remaining few from the end of the ladder, landing soft-footed on the cracked floor of an old steam-tunnel; his backpack awaited him there, and he began the metamorphosis back into one Kuroba Kaito, innocent high school student without the slightest connection to any Phantom Thieves whatsoever.

*Who, me?  Nosir, officer, I'm just your average everyday Tokyo slacker, strolling down a deserted steam-tunnel way late at night—no, make that waaaaay early in the morning.  What Kid costume?  Oh, you mean THIS Kid costume, the one in my backpack?  Um… surprise party for Inspector Nakamori?  His daughter said he'd LOVE the idea, really she did…..*  The whimsical little scene playing out in his head helped to fight back the growing sense of urgency and worry that lurked behind it all, like a villain hiding backstage at a play; Kaito hefted his backpack and hotfooted it down the passageway, moving swiftly towards home through the dim, intermittent flicker of the overhead safety-lights.

He emerged from a long-forgotten steel door at the bottom of a trash-strewn flight of stairs less than four blocks from his home; the route back had wound from the steam-tunnels into the back end of an unused cellar and from there through a brief series of air-ducts, finally ending in what for all the world looked like a long, narrow storage-room for the electronics warehouse next door.  A search of that warehouse's keys, however, would not have produced one that would open the room's door… especially since it could only be unlatched from the inside; Kaito had entered the passages by another route entirely.

Hands in pockets, the young magician moved quietly through the dimly-lit streets towards his neighborhood.  Somewhere in the distance he could hear a clock chiming the half-hour; that would be the Ijima's old grandfather clock at the corner—the thing was so loud that you could hear it outside their house.  It was interesting, though, how clearly he could hear it…..

….. and speaking of 'clearly'….. how the hell had he been able to read that little piece of memorabilia of Kudo's so easily in the dark?  That bothered him; it made him twitch uneasily between the shoulderblades.  He just should not have been able to *do* that.

Come to think of it, he was seeing awfully well through the shadows right now, wasn't he?

Almost reluctantly Kaito picked out a bus-stop sign a few meters away from any sources of light; it was really odd how easily he could make out the pickup-schedule printed there.  He scowled to himself, rubbing at the back of his neck with one hand; *Hell, Kuroba, you're worrying about something like THIS right now?  Stop it; you've got bigger problems than wondering why you can suddenly see better in the dark than you used to.  Besides, it's probably just all the practice you've been getting from your 'night job;' your eyes have adjusted or something.*

*But it's weird, isn't it?  I can read in the dark.  I never could do *that* before.*  He tilted his head back, peering up at the sky.  *And look at all the stars!  Is it just me, or is the sky awfully bright tonight?  Maybe that's it.*

Right.  Nothing to worry about.  Or… at least, not right *now.*

And it was so damned easy to jump at shadows, he thought moodily; it was so easy to send prickles of alarm down his spine by letting his thoughts drift back to what he had been told about the—what had Kudo and Mouri called it?  The Black Organization?  *How… trite; bad guys wearing black.  Let's hear it for stereotypes, guys!*   He was in deep kimchi, no ifs, ands or buts.   And so apparently were his mom, Aoko, Nakamori-san, etc., etc., ad nauseum.  *Wonderful.  My hair's gonna be as white as my outfit if this keeps up.  Heh; me and Spot, we'll match just great—white hair and blue eyes.  Wonder if I could get the little monster to wear a monocle?*

He ducked down a narrow service-alleyway between his street and the next, slipping through the shadows with practiced ease.  It hadn't taken long for Kaito to get used to the idea of sneaking away *and* back to his house unseen; and if he was under surveillance like Kudo seemed so certain that he was, that was a good thing. 

*I'll have to show Aoko a few of the easier routes—no, no, that's wrong.  THINK with your brain, Thief Boy—she's not used to sneaking; if she tries she'll stick out like a thousand-watt bulb out of sheer guilt.  And do you really want her walking through deserted alleyways in the dark, where somebody could creep up behind her?  Remember what those bullets felt like?  Aoko might not be as lucky as you were.*  With a shiver of memory, Kaito slipped into his yard through the loose bit of fence on one side.

The house was silent when he let himself in through the door in the dove-pen; Aoko was probably asleep.  Most of the lights had been turned down, and the young thief moved silently through shadowy rooms, feeling like an intruder in his own home.  As he stepped into the dim pool of light cast by the kitchen window, he frowned a bit; was it just his nerves over-reacting, or was there…

… something not quite right about the house?

It was the barest whisper of wrongness; something out of place, something askew or—he didn't know.  But pausing on the threshold to the hallway, every sense alert, Kaito felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up.  *???*  Was it….. there was something funny about the hallway; a sound, that was it, the faintest trace of a hiss, like air being sucked in or blown out or sheering around a sharp edge.  Now, *what* the hell was—

It caught his eye then.  His father's portrait was open, jutting out scarcely an inch from the wall; the secret door was open.

Barely daring to breathe, he eased it further open a hair and listened; nothing much, save for the susurration of moving air that had alerted him as the seldom-opened passage disturbed his home's usual drafts and air patterns.  Nothing; all was very quiet.  You could have heard a feather fall.

Kaito let out a gulp of air he hadn't even realized he was holding as he took in the scene on the other side of the door; a small light shone from the cluttered room beyond, giving enough illumination to make things very plain.  Nakamori Aoko lay curled up like a kitten on a pilfered couch-cushion and blanket on the far side of the room, a scatter of notebooks around her; the young woman's head was pillowed on her arms where she had slumped sideways, and her breathing was slow and even in sleep.  Beside her, a white circle of fluff betrayed the presence of her partner in crime, Spot, also snoring little kitty snores.

Moving slowly, her friend tiptoed across the floor and knelt beside her, a rueful smile spreading across his tired face.  *She must've read the bits in the notebooks about this room and figured out how to open it.  I mean, it's not exactly difficult—and I had better take care of that someday, come to think of it.  Wouldn't want Hakuba to lean against the wall at the wrong place, now would I?*  He reached out and flicked a straggling lock of hair from Aoko's eyes, where it promptly fell back into place; her face was flushed like a child's, dusty from her explorations.  Cobwebs hung in her hair, and as he gently brushed a fingertip along the line of one cheekbone she snuggled down a little deeper into the blanket.

A yawn surprised Kaito, sneaking out and making his face crack from ear to ear.  *Tired.*   Carefully he sat down beside her warm body, avoiding an elbow that shifted against him as she unconsciously adjusted to his presence.  Spot opened one crystalline blue eye and blinked, then thought better of the whole 'awake' idea and fell back asleep.

The notebook beneath Aoko's arms looked to be opened to the thin, so-called 'history' section; there wasn't much there, but he gently teased it out from beneath her slumbering weight to reread his own words:

"—From the little Jii will tell me about Mom's family, she had a kaitou or two in the woodpile as well.  Looks like her ancestors sort of specialized in data retrieval in a weird sort of way; Jii said they went after rare books and scrolls as well as word-of-mouth info.  Spies, that sort of thing, I guess."

"Dad's family line, though… they were kaitous and magicians like me, fancy dress and all.  Jii showed me a picture of one of them that Dad had given him ages ago, something from some archive somewhere; it was a kaitou, but not in Western dress—this guy was wearing a sort of outfit halfway between traditional costume and what everybody thinks of a Ninja wearing, only the whole thing was in shades of gray.  Very cool; good camouflage, better than all black when you think about it.  Reminded me of those outfits that Tengu always wore in the old scrolls."

"The Kurobas must've been kaitous for a hell of a long time; that picture was at least four hundred years old.  Jii had it in a little specially-made wooden and glass frame.  When I asked him where Dad had gotten it, he just shrugged and said 'family.'  Wonder who he was talking about?  Mom's always said that all my grandparents died years ago, and she's never mentioned much in the way of other relatives.  Might be nice, following up that little train of thought some day.  Wonder if there's any other thieves in the family?  Hah; how do you ask that kind of thing, though?  "Hey, I'm your Third Cousin Twice Removed Kuroba Kaito; steal anything good lately?""

He scowled down at the scrawl on the page, the last whimsical sentence making him grimace.  *Stupid.  If they WERE a thief, they wouldn't admit it.  And it they WEREN'T, you'd end up on your ass in jail so fast your butt'd catch on fire from the friction.*  Quietly he closed the book, leaning back with his hands behind his head.  Kaito's weary eyes strayed sideways to the young woman beside him; the Inspector's daughter looked very young and innocent, curled up and looking so warm and comfortable…..

*Hmmm… there's room enough…..  Scoot your furry tail over, kitten.*

The young magician settled himself around her; Aoko shifted without waking, one hand groping for his wrist as he draped an arm across her shoulders.  *Don't wake her, baka.*  Spot didn't even bother to open his eyes this time; the kitten merely made a sort of disgruntled "mRfmph" noise and pulled one paw over its pink nose.

Kuroba Toichi's son wondered a little sleepily what Aoko had made of the room, with all its bizarre gizmos and old magician's tools—the desk scattered with lockpicks and disassembled electronics, the small bins of completed armaments, the various harnesses and machinery hanging from the beams overhead, the cloaks and tuxedos on the rack and the weird little clock on the shelf by the door…..

Kaito was extremely fond of that clock.  It was his dad's work, of course—nobody *else* would make a clock with a tiny little figure on a white hang-glider that popped out on the hour and doffed its hat politely before launching itself.  *Talk about a cuckoo clock—this is more of a whacko clock.*  But he really got a kick out of it when it went off, not chiming but simply sending the little white Kaitou loop-de-looping once around the whole mechanism on its thin silver guidewire and then back inside a little door that disappeared utterly when closed.  It always made him think of the Clock Tower incident, only in a good way.

It didn't look like Aoko was interested in waking up any time soon; oh well, there were worse places to spend the night.  As he carefully set the alarm on his wristwatch, Kaito mused that the idea of leaving her down there alone wasn't even a consideration.  *'Sides…* and he yawned, *… she'd murder me in the morning.  And then I couldn't meet Kudo at the park tomorrow afternoon…..  On second thought, maybe I SHOULD leave her down here and let her put me out of my misery.  Nahh, too much work. *  And he curled up a little tighter, resting his head on her ankle.

*G'nite, Aoko.*  His eyes fluttered closed.

* * *

Beside him, Spot surveyed the two humans in his keeping from beneath a paw.  *His* two humans, he supposed; if the male was going to be sticking around his Person, then he might as well adopt him too.  The kitten gave a mental shrug; his mother had told him that the life of a housecat was not an easy one….. responsibilities, responsibilities…..

**sigh**

Oh well.  He'd manage.  At least these humans were young and trainable.

He snugged the paw back down over his eyes.  Settling the tip of his tail across his face and between his ears for good measure, the kitten slept.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

*Dreaming again…  No rest for the wicked.* 

Kaito leaned against the railing, staring mistrustfully down at the water below for signs of fish.  Behind him the other passengers (a motley lot for the most part, wearing a wide assortment of formal dress; his own white tux-and-tails fitted right in without a problem, for once) talked quietly among themselves, the occasional comment managing to escape the wash of the waves.

"—and when I ran across him, I said 'I haven't seen you in DECADES!' and he said 'Why break a winning streak?' and then he—"

"—have any clue what the hell I'm doing, most of the time; I just keep muddling through and keep multiple passports.  But—"

"—and THIS is a picture of my seventy-third great-grandchild…  Isn't she sweet?  She looks so much like her mother, I think—"

"—could be worse, my dear.  Consider this: at least we don't have to buy medical insurance…"

That last comment had come from a rather distinguished gentleman on the far side of the boat, leaning casually against a lifeboat.  The man glanced up from the young woman to whom he was speaking, a hint of a smile on his face as his gaze met with Kaito's; he gave a polite nod that the young magician returned, his own eyes straying appreciatively to the low-backed dress of the young woman he had been speaking with.

A wave rocked the boat; there was a fitful rumble of thunder from overhead as everyone caught their balance.  The young woman turned her head, and she was Aoko.

The last time Kaito had seen her dressed up like this had been during that idiot pool-cue incident, where she had gotten plastered; that had been fun, if nerve-wracking, but the major high point had been just how damned *good* she had looked in fancy dress.  But nearly a year had passed since then and she looked even better now in dark blue… silk? taffeta? whatever the hell that shiny stuff was, with a knot of silver around her neck and tiny motes of rhinestones (or diamonds; this *was* a dream) dusting her bodice like strategically-placed stars.  There was a white rose nestling like a pendent at her throat; he could smell it from where he stood, even above the scent of the sea.

Well, maybe; or maybe that was everybody else.  EVERYbody was wearing a white rose, either in a lapel or in their hair or in a corsage or wherever; he briefly saw Ayumi scooting through the crowd up by the prow of the boat with a couple of other kids, her own white rosebud gleaming like a moon atop her dark hair.  Kaito fingered his own lapel-rose (he had never worn a flower during a heist; it really looked sort of cool.  Maybe he should start?) and shrugged, wandering towards Aoko as he took a quick look around.

Huh; pretty big boat—a ship, really, maybe even as big as the Queen Elizabeth if somewhat more old-fashioned, with a huge superstructure and a whole constellation of lights and banners and whatnot; the thing was rigged up like it was about to sail in some sort of nautical parade, as snazzily-dressed as its passengers.  Kaito wondered briefly if it was wearing a white rose somewhere too.  Probably.

Aoko smiled a little tentatively as he walked up; she looked just a bit nervous, and he realized that she had never seen him in his Kid outfit before (well, not unless you counted the ski-trip incident, which he didn't); that made HIM nervous as well, though he did his best not to show it.  His hat and monocle was off, but the rest was sure there.  *Oh well; at least kaitous are well-dressed thieves; it'd be awful if I was a ninja or something.  Whoever heard of a ninja in a tux?*

"Nice party," said Kaito casually, snagging a couple of drinks from a passing waiter's tray; it wasn't that he wanted the alcohol (he wasn't much of a drinker; few magicians were), but he wanted to see if they were what they looked like, so he took an experimental sip as he passed one over to Aoko.  *??  First time I've ever been to a party that served milk…*  He watched bemusedly as the waiter neatly sat a saucer down over by a bulkhead for Spot; the kitten (who wore a tiny rosebud dangling from his collar like a tag) settled in front of the plate with a businesslike air.

Aoko nodded, either in agreement or mutual confusion as she sipped cautiously at her glass.  She really was looking good; the dark blue set off the flash of her eyes and the high color showing in her cheeks as she watched him watching her, particularly when his gaze inevitably slid down to her legs.  Rather to his surprise she merely reddened, showing no apparent desire to mop-smack him at all; that was encouraging.

Kaito could hear music from somewhere, jazzy and syncopated and punctuated at random by the growing rumbles of skyborn thunder.  Greatly daring, he grinned at Aoko and gave her a very Fred Astair-ish bow; "Wanna dance?"

She stared.  "I've never seen you dance before in my whole *life!*"

"Oh, hey… this is a dream; who cares?  'Sides, I never get to dance when I'm dressed up like this, and it's made for it, right?"  He gestured at his outfit with a white-gloved hand, then caught her wrist.  "C'mon, why not?"  For a moment she balked, and then as the music segued into something slower and more old-fashioned, Aoko allowed him to pull her through the crowd and onto the open space over where the lights were brightest.

She was awfully warm in his arms; for once, Kaito felt a little clumsy and unsure of what to do with his hands, not quite certain of how to juggle a live Aoko.  But she solved the whole thing by linking her fingers behind his neck and resting her cheek against his chest (nearly stopping his heart in the process) as their feet seemed to move in a rhythm of their own.  It was easy after that; all he had to do was more or less sway in time to the music… and breathe in the wonderful fragrance of her hair.  She smelled like roses, just like the rest of the night.  The rising wind, the other dancers, even the distant rush and hiss of the waves—everything held a tint of roses, white roses like stars fallen to Earth.

Every now and then, when he could spare a moment of attention from the discovery of how it felt to dance with Aoko, he would catch a glimpse of the other dancers and the ones who watched from the sidelines.  There was 'Yumi-chan, still with those kids (one of 'em was wearing what looked like a Chinese jacket; interesting.  The other looked almost East Indian); there was that guy who had been talking to Aoko, drink in hand and one amused eyebrow raised.  And that woman there—

*…mph; seen her before somewhere…?*

She was lounging against a column of some sort; you had to call it lounging, because 'leaning' didn't show that much cleavage.  Her long, dark hair fell over one shoulder in an elaborate weave of strands and gold chains, and the soft folds of her wine-colored dress wrapped around her like smoke.  She smiled, her green eyes glittering with amusement as if she felt his gaze resting on her; a distant firefly of lightning brought their color out with startling clarity as he turned his head towards her, frowning.  Where the *hell* had he seen her before?

"What's wrong?  Kaito?"  The girl in his arms was looking up now; instantly he dropped his attention back to her, his own eyes softening as he shook his head in silent reply and then held her a little more tightly and tried to dance.

Mostly, though, he just held her close and sort of swayed in place.  She didn't seem to mind.

A little while later—or maybe it was a long while; hard to tell, really—they took a break, collecting another couple of glasses of milk and joining Ayumi over by the railing.  The little girl was (much to Kaito's amusement and barely-restrained glee) wearing a white dress that had more than a hint of a tuxedo about it, with a short white jacket over a fluffy skirt, ruffles at the throat and tiny pearl buttons down the closure; her dark hair was pulled back, crowned with a single rosebud.  She waved madly as they approached; Spot wound around her ankles a few times before sitting down to lick at a paw in a dignified fashion.

Her teacher chuckled, beaming down in approval.  "All you need," he told her, "is a deck of cards and a top-hat.  No, scratch that—no hat; you'd hide your rose."

The child wrinkled her nose in a frown.  "Then what'll I pull rabbits and doves out of, if I don't have a hat?"  Leaning on the railing beside her, Aoko laughed.

Kaito thought for a minute; it was a reasonable question (well, at least in a dream it was reasonable), and she *was* his apprentice.  "Hm; how about… no, that won't work….. uhhh…. Ah!  Got it!"  He rummaged around in one pocket and pulled out a white handkerchief, unknotting it from a long string of attached scarves.  He draped it over one closed fist and then solemnly looked down at his student.  "What do I do next, hm?  Remember what I told you?"  On either side he was beginning to gather a few interested looks from the crowd, who could apparently spot good theater as well as anyone.

Ayumi hesitated.  "You—say some magic words?"

"Yup!"  The young magician grinned, then waved his free hand over the handkerchief and intoned:  "Theophrastus… Bombastus… Von Hohenheim!"

**POOF!!!**  The handkerchief exploded into no less than four white doves; to the surprised, appreciative  murmurs of the onlookers they fluttered up for a moment, and then descended to settle on Kaito's head and shoulders.  He shrugged at Aoko's widened eyes as if to say 'Go figure' and chuckled, ignoring the bird that was currently pecking at his hair.  Ayumi dissolved into giggles; Spot merely flattened his ears.

"Nicely done."  The comment came from the green-eyed woman he had seen before, the familiar-looking one; she had sauntered up and was smiling at them from the edges of the crowd.  "You're quite good with tricks, aren't you?  Magicians… I remember how it was with magicians—they were always learning new tricks, always showing them off at court."  Beside Kaito the Inspector's daughter frowned, a slightly introspective look on her face as if she were trying to recall something.  The older woman looked down from her elegant height at Ayumi, who returned her gaze calmly.  "And are you learning  new tricks too, little one?"

Kaito kept his eyes and voice neutral as he answered, but his quartet of doves abruptly took off into the darkness beyond the hanging lights.  "Court?  Never been to court, I'm afraid.  And I've definitely never done any tricks there…"  He smiled slightly.  "But I'll be sure to bring my *best ones* with me if I ever get caught and have to go, ne?"  Aoko elbowed him in the ribs.  "Ouch…"

The woman merely laughed, and that was what triggered a thread of memory:  something about a stream and a silver cup…..  The thief shook his head.  "Anyway, this is all a dream," he said abruptly; "You can do all sorts of things in dreams.  Tricks are easy in dreams."

She nodded as if he had proved a point for her.  "Quite.  It's real life that's the problem for most of us…  But as you said, this is a dream; and we're all under the rose here anyway, aren't we?"

"'Under the rose'?  'Sub Rosa'?"  Aoko was looking a little perturbed; she scooted just a bit closer to Kaito, not as if seeking protection but more as if about to offer it.  "I've heard that before; it means that you can speak the truth and it'll be kept secret, right?"  She eyed the green-eyed woman with a certain suspicion.  "What's that got to do with dreams?"

The woman shrugged, her shoulders moving parts of her body in a very distracting manner, considering how low-cut her dress was; Kaito wrenched his wandering attention back to what she was saying.  "Simply this:  People seldom lie in dreams.  So, then:  do you have questions you'd like to ask?  Or do you yet know enough to *ask* questions?"  She took in their confused expressions and sighed.  "Ah well, later then, after you learn a few more… tricks.  We're about to strike the iceberg, in any case."  She smiled a small, amused smile.  "Thank you for the magic show; it was delightful."  And she reached forward, gently touching the rose crowning Ayumi's hair.  "I look forward to seeing what marvels you learn as well, little one."  With that she turned and walked away, melting into the crowd like a cat into a darkened alley.

Kaito's eyes had widened; he looked over Ayumi's head at Aoko, who was beginning to go a trifle bug-eyed herself.  "Iceberg?  ICEBERG?!?"

"Of course," came the woman's rather merry voice from somewhere in the crowd; "That's how this dream *always* ends….."

….. and suddenly the ship shuddered and jarred, a tremendous crashing cacophony breaking through the music and voices; oddly enough, there were few screams as people all around them staggered and slid on the tilting deck.  Aoko yelped and grabbed for her companions, who were simultaneously grabbing for her; Spot wailed and scrambled up and over her head to perch on her shoulder as the entire crowd began sliding sideways in a lurching, bewildering tumult of arms and legs and darkness.  Over everything a ship's alarm began to blare out:  **BWEEP!!**BWEEP!!**BWEEP!!**BWEEP!!**

**BWEEP!!**BWEEP!!**  Kaito swore, hanging onto the railing with one arm and Ayumi with the other as Aoko wrapped her arms around his neck in a near-stranglehold; the deck was twisting beneath them, splinters flying everywhere.  All the lights had gone out, but there was just enough skyglow from the stormclouds left to see the crowd dropping into the chill, dark waters below with hardly an outcry; there went the older gentleman he had seen earlier, and there went the green-eyed woman right after him, laughing…..

**BWEEP!!**BWEEP!!**BWEEP!!**  The alarm was getting louder, shrilling in his ears and making his head pound; the sound was…

…the sound was…..

….. the sound was his wristwatch alarm going off.   And he was AWAKE, sitting up with a yelp even as Aoko let out a sort of strangled screech and flipped halfway over beside him, all tangled up in the blanket.  "MMPH!!  @#$%!?!"  Next to her Spot jumped in alarm, his fur bristling.  The kitten gave himself several very fast licks to smooth his fur, and Aoko pulled him into her arms in sleep-muddled confusion.  "Whuhhh?  K-Kaito--?  --Oh; I, uh, fell asleep down here, I was waiting for you—"

He scratched at his hair, making it stand even more on end as he gathered his wits.  "…Yeah… I came in pretty late, and I, uh…" he became aware of the fact that they had been sleeping cuddled up together against one another; he could still feel the heat of her body against his, and from the look on her face so could she.

Rather hastily she shoved her hair out of her face, obviously casting around for something to say.  "Um…. Oh!  Right!  Kaito?  This… room?  I read about it in your notebooks, and it's… all this, this equipment and everything—"  Her eyes roamed up and down the shelves, growing wider as recollections from the previous evening's reading set in.  "I wanted to ask you about—"

Kaito's own eyes bulged at the very *thought* of explaining some of the stuff in the room.  There were tons of gadgets that he hadn't even begun to try, things that he only had the faintest of clues about (his dad hadn't been the world's most organized of kaitous, and labeling had been, apparently, something that *other* people did so far as he was concerned).  And as for some of the stuff that he WAS familiar with….. like the smoke bombs and the sonic grenades, the heat-emitters and the sleep-gas… and then there were the new gizmos the 'Nakamori Specials'…..

….. and he HAD put a label on that bin, come to think of it.  And drawn little caricatures, too.

*Ooooh.  Distraction time, or I'm toast.  Burned toast.  I do NOT, repeat NOT want to go through this right now-----*   His now-silent watch caught his eye then, and he yelped: "LATE!!  We're gonna be LATE!!!"

"Huh?  What?  But—"

"Ask me later!  SCHOOL, okay?  Education, right!!  Gotta get ready for school, don't want to be late—c'mon, c'mon, go go go!!!"  He scrambled to his feet, yanking her up as he went.  "You can have the first shower, c'mon, hot water's waiting for you, I'll, uh, go fix something we can eat on the way…"  Propelling Aoko's protesting body in front of his, Kaito bulled them both through the hidden door at a double-time pace.  "Go Speed Aoko!  Hup-two-three-four, HUP-two-three-four, HUP-two-th--- OWW!!  Why'd you hit me?  Brute…  Come ON, we gotta hurry—"

The door swung shut behind them with a quiet click.  Amidst the bedding on the floor, Spot yawned and went back to sleep, a small white furry iceberg in a blanket-sea.

***********************************************************************************************

*School… boring, boring, mind-numbing school…..*  Conan grumbled to himself, leaning on one elbow and attempting to keep awake as Teacher lectured the class on the unspeakable, Earth-shattering importance of writing one's kanji-strokes in the proper order.   Hoping that she would mistake his glassy-eyed stare for one of interest, he began one of his usual mental exercises in order to keep conscious and not embarrass himself by falling out of the desk. 

*Okay, start at the far right of the class this time:  Desk #1—Makinoto Seimei.  Let's see… ah; he stubbed his toe last night.  He was limping on his right foot when he came into class, but not too badly, and I saw a band-aid when he changed shoes.  Next, Desk #2—Ijire Teiko.  Hm; uhhh, she's got… oh, right.  She got her ears pierced!  She was talking about it yesterday; must've gone last night with her parents and had it done.  Cute little girl, she'll be a terror when she grows up.  Desk #3—Furikara 'Binto Box' Yuki, the World's Fastest-Eating Kid.  Nothing much new about him today, except that he keeps squirming.  Must need a bathroom break.  Desk #4, Nikki Akina…..*

He had a dozen or more ways of keeping his mind busy, but this one always got used several times per week:  the 'What's New With My Classmates?' study.  Conan sighed; he was sure it helped keep his senses sharp and all that, but it was so *damned* boring when one of the highlights of your day was noticing that your sempai two rows over apparently had had eggs for breakfast.

Kudo Shinichi smothered a yawn inside Conan's head; outside, the faux gradeschooler bit down on the end of his pencil to fight back the same.

The boy snuck a look at Rin, smothering a reluctant grin when he saw her doodling.  She was going to get in trouble for that again if she was caught…  Teacher did not like inattentive students.  What was it this time, anyway, little drawings?  She seemed to be a bit more intent on her 'work' than usual; he craned his neck just a bit to get a glimpse.

Ah; so that was it—she was drawing tiny pictures of flowers and branches for Ayumi's fan.  When Mouri Ran had been a young girl of eleven or twelve she had taken a Summer arts class in hand-painting flat paper fans called uchiwa, the kind people carried at festivals.  Ayumi had seen the ones she had kept; they were amateur work, but they were really pretty good (Shinichi still had one tucked away in his old room back at his own house, a gift during the Obon festival the year they both turned thirteen), and the little girl had wistfully wished for one herself.  Rin was planning to surprise her.

Conan watched the pencil in the small fingers as it carefully drew a leaf; it looked like she was going for a camellia theme.  Good; maybe that'd get their young friend's mind off of a certain thief with weird tastes in working clothes—he'd feel a lot happier if he knew she was thinking about something else.  Fat chance, though; shooting a surreptitious glance sideways, he could see the edges of a pack of cards poking out of one of the little girl's pockets.

*And she's getting pretty good with that stuff too.  Speaking of a certain thief…..  Suggesting that we meet in the park was a BAD idea, considering who I saw watching it yesterday.  Dammit—I'm gonna have to figure out some way of meeting him before he gets to that tree--*  The boy had done just a bit of research that morning before leaving for school; a few prods and pokes around the Internet had dug up the facts that one Kuroba Kaito was a senior at Ekoda High School; a little *further* prodding dug up several term papers that the teenager had posted online at one of the school's project sites (and it had been more than a little surreal reading the homework of an internationally wanted criminal; Kuroba was pretty damned intelligent, if easily bored).

*Let's see—I'll get out of school at three, he gets out at three thirty, if I really book it I can get to the park maybe a few minutes before him.  Crap.  This is my fault; I asked him to show up there, and if he does… and They do too…..* 

The fact that the Kuroba youth's perch would make an excellent target for a sniper had not escaped him. It wasn't really that likely that they were planning to take him out that way, not if they had him under surveillance; for some reason, all of their attempts on Kuroba's life had happened during his other self's heists, never while in his 'civilian' persona. 

On the other hand, if they changed their minds….. 

Conan's fingers tightened on his pencil, nearly snapping it.  Rin paused in her doodling, a line of worry appearing between her brows as she turned a bit to watch him; she could always tell when he was stressing over something.

*I'll deal with it; I have to.  It'll be my fault if he gets shot down like one of his damned doves.*

A movement from Teacher caught his eye; she was looking his way as she passed out the markers and special paper for their fledgling attempts at kanji, so he attempted to appear attentive.  Internally, however, he groaned; the rest of the day was going to pass with all the speed of—of *ink* drying.

*But when it's over…..*

***********************************************************************************************

In the meantime, school was going at about the same rate for the upper grades as well.  Kaito stretched surreptitiously as his instructor turned back to the whiteboard, chattering on about some obscure historical point of the Edo Period.  *Like I'm interested in the battle of Sekigahara or the Tokugawa shoguns or any of that stuff; as 'Yumi-chan would say, booooooorrrrrring…..*

He had managed to derive some amusement from the way he was being watched, at least; the young magician had found himself in the crosshairs of a three-way scrutiny by Aoko, Akako and Hakuba, which tickled his sense of humor in the extreme.  Aoko, for instance, kept sending him the oddest looks; there was a lot of speculation there, and occasionally a trace of a blush (which made him tingle internally… just what *was* she thinking about, hmmm?).  Akako was looking rather puzzled and more than a bit disturbed—had she picked up on the change in relationship between him and the Inspector's daughter?  Probably, and that might lead to trouble if he wasn't careful.  *Might lead to trouble even if I am careful; with the Witch, you never know.  Bet she nails me at lunchtime for details.* 

And then, of course, there was the third watcher…..

Hakuba Saguru was, quite frankly, staring at him; the poor idiot probably didn't even realize it.  Not for the first time Kaito wondered at the would-be-detective's occasional blind spots, chalking it up to unavoidable blonde genes (they had to come out somewhere, he supposed).  For a long moment he considered doing something like batting his eyelashes or blowing the guy a kiss, which would definitely rattle his brains, but dismissed the thought in favor of staring blatantly back while slowwwwwwly crossing his eyes.

It was really funny to see Hakuba's eyes begin to cross as well…..  Kaito snickered quietly to himself as the half-Britisher blinked hard several times and then pointedly turned away.

*There.*  He bit back a grin and glanced at the clock; lunchtime was still twenty minutes away, dammit, and he was hungry.  He ALWAYS seemed to be hungry lately—  At a growl from his stomach he winced; behind him, Keiko-kun giggled.   Of course, this was Keiko, and she could be counted on to giggle at roughly 87% of any given stimulus, with a standard deviation of ±1.3; Kaito had actually worked this up for a project in math class at one point (hey, they had just said to 'create a mathematical model of a given statistical norm over a period of time', they hadn't said what of). 

Sometimes he wondered about the girl.  Other times he plotted ways of trapping Hakuba with her in a closet, which was nearly as amusing as the thought of trapping him with Akako…..

Kaito yawned.  *C'mon, lunch!*  The teacher continued to drone on.  *Have mercy on a poor, pitiful starving thief…..*

Time passed slowly, but it passed; eventually lunchtime came and went (during which he managed to avoid getting bushwhacked by the sorceress by spending an inordinate time in the Men's Room—not that he expected that to keep her out if she really wanted to find him, but it would at least cause a delay.  He planned to scream like a little girl if she showed up while he was, errr, busy.) 

The magician was just heading back to his seat afterwards when a voice from behind him made him pause.  "Kuroba-kun."

He turned around, keeping his face straight as he slid into his seet backwards, straddling the chair and hanging over the back.  "And what can I do for you, Hakuba-kun?"  It was an effort not to cross his eyes.

The blonde eyed him coldly.  "You can stop stalking me in that ridiculous trenchcoat and hat of yours.  You're not fooling anyone, you know."  As Kaito stared in surprise, Hakuba frowned slightly.  "I'll admit, it was a good disguise… but I'd appreciate it if you'd stop."  He reached down to pull a textbook from the small briefcase that many of the older students carried.  "I'm sure you can find better things to do with your time than stake out my home."

His sempai eyed him dubiously.  "That hasn't stopped you, I've noticed….."  Hakuba's occasional surveillance from the bus-stop was old news by now.  This little claim, on the other hand, was not.  Either the afore-mentioned blonde genes were finally getting to old Saguru in a big way or--  "Soooo… just when did I, uh, start 'stalking' you, hm?  And," he continued carefully, keeping it casual, "just what color trenchcoat are we talking about?  Brown, blue, chartreuse?"

*This had better not be what it sounds like…*

The Britisher glanced up, those strange amber eyes of his reflecting back the light like his hawk's would.  "Don't act more foolish than Nature has already made you, Kuroba.  You know perfectly well that you spent most of yesterday evening shadowing me and watching my house," he answered flatly.  "If you had worn something less obvious than a black trenchcoat I might have missed you, but I suppose the drama was too great to pass up."  There was a faint thread of uncertainty in his voice as he added, "…That *was* you, of course…..?"

Kaito hesitated; suddenly the collar of his school uniform seemed a bit too tight as something cold seemed to creep down his spine.  "You just keep thinking that, okay, Hakuba?" he said slowly, the humor leaking out of his voice.  "And while you're at it, you might want to stay out of dark alleyways for a while."

*Black.  Oh shit oh dear.  Guess they ARE watching me, and now he's gotten himself on the list by contagion.  I… think maybe I'd better talk to Kudo but quick, and maybe at some place other than the park—if they've been trailing me as well, they know I go there.*

His classmate sat his textbook down on the desk with a soft thump; it was hard to read exactly what was going on behind that , half-Gaijin face (personally Kaito had always thought Hakuba looked *amazingly* like Biggles from reprints of old English Sunday funnies), but he thought that the guy was now a little wary.  "For your information, I don't tend to hang around 'dark alleyways' as a rule," he answered rather stiffly.  "Am I to take it that you claim to be not guilty—of *this,* anyway?"

*Ooooh, sarcasm; I'm wounded to the quick.*  The young magician blinked.  "You can believe whatever you'd like; just take a little extra care, would you?  And as for the dark alleyways… what you do in your time outside school is your OWN business, 'Saguru-chan'..."  He beamed innocently at the other.

"Hmph."  The blonde teenager did not look impressed, studiously ignoring the overly-familiar diminutive.  He opened his textbook as the rest of the class filed in, and as far as anyone else could have told put the entire thing out of his analytical, detail-obsessed mind.  As far as *anyone else* could tell….. but then Kaito wasn't just anyone, and he tended to notice things about people like their mannerisms and habits.

Did Hakuba realize that his left foot twitched when he was getting a case of nerves?  It was almost funny, really, sort of like the tail-tip of an upset cat, flicking back and forth; and knowing Hakuba Sugaru, it was probably moving at precise one-second intervals.

Their instructor was droning on about—oh right; they had a field trip coming up… tomorrow?!?  *Crap!  Tomorrow!  I forgot--*  For reasons unknown to gods or man, it had been decided earlier that the Senior year students would benefit from a trip to Kyoto's brand-new Industrial Science Museum.  Fortunately (or unfortunately, depending on your interest in things industrial) Kaito had gotten his permission slip signed a couple of weeks earlier.  Grumbling, the thief waved a mental goodbye to his plans for the next few days; no help for it.  *So much for getting any heist-planning done; can't do a damned thing in the middle of a school trip…..*

*….. or can we?*  He thought hard, chewing on the tip of his pencil in contemplation.  Going out of town wasn't too bad an idea when you got right down to it; he and Aoko would be sort of like a pair of fish (he shuddered) in the middle of a school (and that wasn't too bad a pun, either).  Camoflage of the best sort: being where you were supposed to be but not where the bad guys wanted you to be.

And…  Kyoto…..  It had been a long time since he had done a heist in Kyoto, hadn't it?  It had.  *This next one's gonna be set up to draw out the bad guys; I wouldn't mind having 'em busy a little ways from home, not at all.  It'll be sort of a pain, handling things out of town, but I've done it before.  Wonder if Aoko has any relatives or whatever that we could stay with up there for a few days?  What kind of excuse would be feasible?  She could go out of town for safety-reasons, but as for me….. this might take a little work.*

*Speaking of Aoko--*  She  was beginning to eye Kaito with a little concern from her desk; he must have been being too quiet.  He gave her what he hoped was a reassuring grin, pulling out his own textbook and flipping it open to where they had left off.  Not that he intended to pay it much attention….. he had too much to think about.

*Like trips, possible heist locations, catching the Shrimp before he leaves school and ditching any would-be stalkers of my own.  Hm; speaking of ditching…*  A sudden idea made his eyebrows rise; he settled back into his usual bored Kaito-face, plans fermenting behind the façade.

The next break came nearly an hour later; with a quick, whispered explanation to Aoko (who took it with a worried glare) he slipped off to a quiet little alcove beneath a school stairway; there was a janitor's closet there that the wall-baffles managed to soundproof well enough that it would serve his purpose.  "Good thing I snitched Mom's cellphone this morning," he muttered, flipping it open as he closed the door.  He needed no light; the glow from the tiny number-pad and readout was enough for him to dial the number for Ekoda High's front office.  A quick clearing of the throat, a tightening of this and a relaxing of that, and the voice that answered the bored student on the other end was that of one Kuroba Hikarue, widow of Kuroba Toichi and mother to Kuroba Kaito…..

Three or four minutes later had him stepping back out of the closet, a satisfied smile on his face.  *That ought to do it.*  Sure enough, the overhead speakers buzzed and began to blare out a request for one Kuroba Kaito to step into the office even as he reached his next class.  Aoko scowled in his general direction; the young woman looked more than a little grouchy at being left behind.  "So *that's* how you managed to miss that science test two weeks ago," she muttered, fingers twitching as if she wanted a mop. 

He merely grinned, hefting his backpack.  "I took the make-up test, didn't I?"  Granted, it had been the following Monday, but it was the principal of the thing that mattered.  "Listen," Kaito said, turning a little more serious; he lowered his voice.  "I learned a few things last night that—well, I don't think it'd be a good idea if you went straight to my house from here.  Can you, I dunno, catch a ride to the police station or something?"

Her scowl deepened, edging over from annoyed into perplexed.  "I… suppose so; dad said to call a number he gave me if I got worried—they'll send somebody by to pick me up.  Why, though?" 

Dammit; there was worry in her voice as well.  *Clumsy, Thief Boy; you can do better than that.*  He shook his head, doing his best to look reassuring; it wasn't easy.  "Just—Look, I'll tell you on the way home, okay?  Wait for me there; I won't be too long.  I *PROMISE* I'll tell you, I swear, on my honor as a Kuroba….."  Remembering his repentant apology to Himitsu-san the night before he dropped dramatically to one knee with one hand over his heart.  "No more secrets, remember?"  The last was softer, and the eyes that looked up at Aoko held more than the usual playfulness in their depths.

She forgot her anger for a second, stepping a little closer.  "You'd better, then.  If there's one thing I plan on doing, it's making sure that you keep your promises."  There was a hint of something new in her face as well, and from across the room the two watchers from earlier all saw it.  Three, really; Keiko had paused halfway to her desk, and an expression of utter glee was beginning to stage a takeover.

"Heh; fine—my mom always said that I needed a keeper…"  With a flourish he presented her with a scarlet chrysanthemum from out of nowhere; she took it reluctantly, tucking it into her hair with the air of one accepting an apology.  "I'm all out of roses," he added, standing up.  "I'll see you later, okay?"  Beyond them Keiko's eyes were as wide as saucers; Hakuba and Akako were both looking distinctly miffed.

"Okay… but be careful."  Aoko's own eyes gained a little of their earlier fire.  "Don't make me have to come after you," she growled.

Kaito grinned.  "Wouldn't dream of it.  Seeya at the stationhouse!"  Whistling softly, he headed off towards the front office and the entirely fake pass home that awaited him there.

***********************************************************************************************

Ten minutes later…..

A block and a half away from Ekoda High School, a black-jacketed young woman with a bland, hard-jawed face dug in her purse for her cellphone and swore viciously.  Her assignment had been simple:  to watch the Kuroba boy and report any deviations from his usual patterns of movement.  And now the little bastard had just headed off-campus two goddamn hours ahead of schedule—AND given her the slip in the process; who knew he could move so fricking fast?!?  She was good at what she did, or they wouldn't have assigned her to a top-priority surveillance job—how the hell had he managed to lose her--??

The woman's fingers shook as she punched in a number.  If there was one thing that she had learned in her short, violent career, it was that her superiors did not look well on failure.  Agents who did not live up to their expectations frequently failed to live at *all.*

***********************************************************************************************

*@#$%!!*  Conan was late, late, late…

*And if Vodka or whoever decides to take a sniper-rifle to the park with him, Kuroba may be late as well, dammit!  The DEAD kind of late.*  He pounded through the hallways of his school, skidding a little in his scuffs before thudding to a halt and quickly changing into his tennishoes.  *WHY did the entire idiot school have to take part in a goddamn fire-drill this afternoon?!?  Why today of all days?  Somebody Up There really, really hates my guts.*  Jerking the last lace into the sort of Gordian Knot that he would later on probably have to cut, the boy scrambled for the door. 

*No skateboard—gonna have to just run like hell to make it to the park, maybe I can catch him before he gets to the tree--*  He was no longer allowed to bring his skateboard to school, not after that little episode in the stairwell…..  He hadn't *meant* to be caught showing off for Rin; even now, the memory (and the chewing out he got from Eri) was enough to make his ears burn.

*Hurry up, Kudo, get those short little legs moving!!  Wonder where Rin is, anyway?  Oh--*  He backpedaled furiously to avoid plowing straight into the object of his conjecture, who watched with both concern and amusement from the sidewalk just out the gate.  "Rin?  C'mon, we've got to—"

She surveyed him, hands on hips.  "—head to the park?  Not anymore, so calm down, Shinichi," the former Mouri Ran said softly; "There's… somebody here to talk to you."

"???"  Panting a little, he peered past the girl.  "!!!"

Leaning all too nonchalantly against the fence surrounding the school was a half-familiar figure, rather lanky, with a shock of dark brown hair and expressive eyes that dominated his thin face.  Kuroba Kaito seemed to be enjoying himself; Ayumi, Genta and Mitsuhiko sure were, listening intently to the young magician's chatter.  *That—that's—what the—what's he--*  As Conan dazedly shook his head and tried to assimilate that he had once again been one-upped by the Kaitou Kid, he heard:

"Okay now, from the top:  What do you do if you run into any scary-looking guys in black trenchcoats?"

Genta, Ayumi and Mitsuhiko looked at each other and then back at their instructor, grinning.  All three chorused:  "Scream 'PERVERT!!!' and run like crazy!"

"Aaaaand what do you do if they try to grab you?"

"Yell 'FIRE!!!" as loud as we can, right?  AndthenkickthemreallyreallyhardandwhentheydropusweRUN!" put in Mitsuhiko eagerly; Kuroba nodded.  Genta sulked briefly, having been too slow on the draw.

Beside him Ayumi scowled.  "You said we could yell 'FLASHER!!!' too, didn't you, Hei-san?….. What IS a flasher, anyway?"

"Uhhhh… I'll explain someday when you're older."  Kuroba looked momentarily uncomfortable, scratching his head.

"You….. will….. NOT!!!" gritted out Edogawa Conan, stomping up and shoving his way between the kids and their 'tutor.'  "What the hell do you mean, telling them things like—like—  What are you--  Gaaaahhhhhh!!!"  He grabbed at his own hair, wondering if he should just tear it all out right then and get it over with.  "WHY are you here?!?"

"Conan-kun, you're being *rude.*  Don't yell at Hei-san!" said Ayumi sternly, hands on hips.  The girl glared at him from her slightly taller height; to either side Genta and Mitsuhiko looked puzzled.  "He said he was waiting to talk to you, and that we could all walk with him to—where did you say you had to go?" 

She turned back to the teenager, who smiled angelically down at her.  "Gotta stop by the library.  You know the one down on Yomiko and Fourth?  I need to find some books on Kyoto for a class project…  Wanna go?"

Conan opened his mouth to verbally slay the thief in front of him, but the rather pointed pressure of two hands gripping either shoulder from behind cut him off sharply; Rin had quite a grasp for such a small girl.  "Fine," she said quietly.  "And while we're walking, you can tell us just *why* you're here at our school gates, talking about something that shouldn't be mentioned in public."  She let go and stepped around to stand beside the boy, her shoulder brushing his.

"What, 'flashers'?"  Kuroba chuckled, then sobered a bit.  He shot them both a slightly contrite glance as the small group began to head down the sidewalk.  "Yeah, yeah, I know… but 'Yumi-chan said you had told the Terrible Trio here about the, uhhh, bad guys…"  Genta, Mitsuhiko and Ayumi looked smug, not at all offended by their new designation.  "So I figured it was okay, so long as we kept it down."

Fighting back an urge to let the thief Have It With The Shoes, the former Kudo Shinichi forced his tone to something approaching civility for Ayumi's sake (and to keep Rin from throttling him).  "That… was *not* what I'd call 'keeping it down.'  You were right in front of the school—"

The teenager shrugged, hands in pockets as he sauntered along.  "So I was," he agreed pleasantly.  "But I was pretty careful getting here; I took a route that I very much doubt the baddies could trace… trust me on that one.  You'd be amazed just how easy it is to move without being seen, if you have enough keys and aren't afraid of heights."

Conan bit back a reply; between her friend and her teacher, Ayumi blinked thoughtfully.  "I'd like to do that; I'm not scared of heights.  Could you show me someday, Hei-san?"

*AACK.*   The boy's eyes bulged.  "Maybe," smiled Hei-san.

Rin's gaze sharpened perceptibly; for a moment there was a strong flavor of Ran there, just about to square off with an opponent at a karate match.  The teenager watching her became aware of it and then peered down at Conan's face as well; what he saw there made him swallow hard and hold up a placating hand.  "Let's, ahh, talk about that later, okay, 'Yumi-chan?  In the interests of peace and quiet and self-preservation and not being shoved out into traffic or having my knees broken….."

Despite this, the walk was anything but peaceful.  The two male members of the Terrible Trio quizzed Kuroba Kaito regarding magic, juggling, and a multitude of other subjects until they were actually going in through the library's glass-and-metal doors.  "After you," said the older boy politely; the kids rambled through, dropping their voices as they entered the environs of the stern-faced librarians, who peered at them somewhat suspiciously from the desks.

"Why here?" asked Conan quietly; he had managed to get a grip on his temper by now (a small one, but it was a grip at least).  "Why the library?"  Rin kept a wary eye on them both as they headed towards the adult stacks; Genta, Ayumi and Mitsuhiko had already gone ahead in the direction of the children's books, chattering about magic tricks in what they doubtless considered to be whispers.

Kuroba raised an eyebrow.  "You know another place where people can talk very, very quietly without looking suspicious?  We can sit right out in the open if we want and talk about whatever, and all people will think is that I'm your big brother or something."  He snickered.  "You did say that we look a lot alike…"

Conan shuddered at the idea.  "So why didn't you just wait at the park?  You seemed pretty eager to get away last night—"   A passing librarian made shushing noises and he forced his voice back down; dammit, it kept creeping up!  *What IS it about this guy that keeps rattling me?  Is it just that he knows our secret, or is it that he's a criminal? Or maybe it's just that he's such a goddamn smartass…*

*… or maybe… it's because, if I let myself, I'd probably get along with him.  Maybe even like him; in some ways he reminds me of Heiji.  Rrrgh!*

The thief shrugged again, turning down an aisle and briefly scanning the call-letters on the spines of the nearest books; he kept walking slowly, obviously looking for something.  "I thought about it; if they're watching me, they know where I go and when I go there.  A park's not the safest place on the planet to be if you're being tracked—too public, too wide-open, too little cover."  He slid out a book and frowned at the title, then slid it back in, wandering a bit further.  "If you're being hunted, the first thing you do is break your trail—y'know, change the pattern you've been setting.  So I broke my trail.  'Sides, believe it or not, I *do* need a book on Kyoto for school….."

Rin spoke up quietly.  "But why involve the others?  You could have left them out of it—"

At that Kuroba rolled his eyes.  "Hate to tell you two this, but they were all talking it over when they came out of your school.  I figured that maybe a word or two of advice wouldn't hurt, considering that the bigger kid—Genta-kun, right?—was making plans to go hunting for black trenchcoats this weekend.  Think they mentioned looking for 'em in the train stations….."

Conan drew in a sharp breath, feeling just a touch light-headed; beside him Rin had gone rather white.  The older boy nodded down at them, all the humor gone from his expressive eyes for a moment.  "Yeah; you understand now, huh?"  He pulled another book from the shelf, flipping through it before tucking it beneath one arm.  "By the way, I'm, um, sorry I freaked out on you last night.  Can we sort of pick up where we left off?  I haven't got a lot of time before I have to head out—"  He looked a little shamefaced as well as hopeful, still walking; they reached the end of the aisle and sat down at a study-carrel with a good view of most of the room.

Rin and Conan looked at each other silently, then nodded as one.  "Fine," said the boy softly.  "But no more taking off in a panic.  If you screw up, WE get screwed as well.  Okay?"

Kuroba considered this, then nodded as well.  "Deal."  He sat back and prepared to listen.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

"Bye, Hei-san!"  Ayumi-kun waved at her teacher as they parted on the library steps, two new books on prestidigitation in her backpack.  "I'll see you next week… and I'm glad you're feeling better now."  She cocked her head to one side as she stared up at him quizzically.  "It's funny, but you don't even look like you even got sh— mmph!"

The magician shook his head reproachfully, removing his hand from her mouth.  "Loose lips sink ships, y'know, 'Yumi-chan… so hush on the 'feeling better' stuff, okay?"  He was looking considerably chastened by now (or as chastened as he ever got, which wasn't much so far as Conan and Rin could tell).  The past hour's conversation had been enough to impress him with the absolute necessity for cooperation, although the former Kudo Shinichi couldn't quite bring himself to trust him.  And from the occasional careful, considering glance he was receiving, Kuroba felt the same way.

At one point Rin had informed them both quite straightly that if they didn't manage to get along and stop with the glares she would swat them both; Conan had subsided with a mutter, but the teenager from Ekoda High had raised an eyebrow.  "And how do you plan on doing that?" he had asked, one corner of his mouth twitching.

She had smiled up at him, and Conan had suddenly grown very wary; he knew that smile, from times past when he had well and truly pissed Ran off.  "Oh… I'd find a way."  And Kuroba had blinked once and then given in immediately, thus upping his adversary's estimation of his intelligence another notch.

And he *was* intelligent, damned intelligent.  Those sharp eyes missed nothing—not a clue, not a possibility, and not a chance to needle the boy he insisted on calling 'Kudo'.  Not for the first time Conan found himself wondering what Kuroba would have been like if Fate had not made him the Kaitou Kid…..

But now he was heading down the steps.  "Keep working on those hand-slides, 'Yumi-chan; you're coming along just fine.  See you lot later, okay?  Got somebody waiting for me, and she'll swat me if I don't show up soon."  He waved cheerfully, hefting his backpack with one hand.  "And… be careful, will you?"  That last was rather softer.  "I don't have a lot of friends; I'd hate to lose any to… bad luck."

Conan traded a startled glance with Rin.  *Friends?*

Mitsuhiko waved too.  "Bad luck?"  The freckled gradeschooler had checked out a small stack of beginner's books on radio-controlled airplanes, a new passion of his.  "I don't believe in luck…"

Hei-san paused.  "You don't?  I do.  But y'know, most people let unlucky things *happen* to them; that's bad luck.  Me—" and he settled the backpack into place with a fluid twist of his shoulders; "—I prefer to make my *own* luck… and most of the time it's good.  Not always, but often enough.  Jaa ne!"  He sprinted lightly down the stairs out into the early evening and was gone.

***********************************************************************************************

"You're LATE."  Aoko was sitting just inside the stationhouse lobby, arms crossed and murder in her eyes; she had obviously had time enough to steam.

Kaito backpedaled, ready to dodge being bludgeoned at any second.  "Sorry, sorry— that little piece of 'homework' of mine took longer than I thought."  He gave her his most contrite look; it was a good one, and he had had plenty of opportunities to perfect it.  "You need to pick anything up from your dad's office before we go?"  The girl still looked more than a little sulky as she shook her head, so he added "Look, I'll pick us up dinner on the way back as an apology, okay?  But it'll have to be noodles or something—I'm not exactly independently wealthy, y'know."  The thief spread his hands in front of him.  "I think we're gonna be too busy tonight for either of us to cook….."

The Inspector's daughter seemed to prick up her ears.  "Oh?"  They both jumped slightly as a rather prominent sound of throat-clearing from over by the elevator made them turn.  For some reason, they had an audience; no less than four officers that Kaito recognized as working with Aoko's father were lounging, standing around or otherwise loitering in the general area… and watching them.

With smiles on their faces.  *Smug* ones.  From the corner of his eye, Kaito saw that his companion had turned beet-red.  "Uhhh… Aoko?  Is there something I should know, maybe?"

"…………no………."

"Uh huh.  So why are we such an object of interest, hm?"  His own cheeks were beginning to burn from the sheer attention, and those smiles were getting bigger.  Kaito had known the four officers more or less for quite a while, through visiting with Aoko; but if he didn't know better, he'd almost call their expressions leers—

One of the watchers chuckled and called out "Nice flower, Aoko-chan!" just as the elevator door opened.  With many a backwards look, the four headed up and out of sight, leaving behind the sound of even more soft snickering (and a quiet cheer and comment that might have been "About time, Kuroba-san...")  Kaito raised both eyebrows at Aoko, who turned even redder and fingered the chrysanthemum in her hair rather self-consciously.

"It's nothing—they were just teasing me.  Um, about the flower you gave me.  Somebody asked me where I got it and…  I don't know why they thought it was funny; I mean, you've given me flowers lots of times before….."

He had an idea why, though.  "When they asked you, did you blush?"

"Um.  Probably."

Kaito couldn't help but grin.  "Well, that's why."

"Oh."

She was rather quiet on the way to the take-out noodle stand.  But she kept his flower where it was, scarlet in her hair.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

The take-out boxes were in the trash fairly early on, and the two co-conspirators were sprawled on cushions on the floor among a litter of notebooks, pencils and notes as Kaito went over what Aoko stubbornly insisted calling his 'plan of attack' (she had remarked that it was a better name than 'modus operandi').

He chewed on the end of his pencil, frowning as he tried to figure out how to explain.  "Okay—maybe if we look at it *this* way… since I've already *found* the Pandora Gem and destroyed it, the idea this time isn't to get the target, it's to bring the bad guys out into the light.  And the only way to do that is to make 'em think that there's still something to be found… so….."

Aoko waited, petting Spot where he lay in a curl of white beside her; the magician gave a sigh and flopped over onto his back, staring at the ceiling.  "…so….. uh, any ideas?"

She glared at him.  "And THIS is the great Master Thief that's been foiling my dad, the entire Kaitou Kid Task Force and all those other investigators, detectives, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera??"

"Oh, C'MON Aokooooo….."  The teenager drooped.  "Nine times out of ten it's a hell of a lot simpler than this, y'know.  I pick a likely target, case the location—and usually it's something on public display— make up some riddle that *almost* tells what I'm gonna do, and hit it on schedule.  No offense to your dad, but most times he gets part of the riddle, not all of it; and he and the Task Force stick out like a sore thumb, so it's not particularly hard to evade 'em going in.  Leaving, now… that's not too bad either most times; they get rattled.  The hardest thing about most of my heists has been to do as little damage as possible and keep the casualties to minor injuries; half the rookies in the Force wipe out before they hit their second heist-watch, and—"

She rolled her eyes.  "I know, I know."  Aoko had read his notes.  "So what's so hard about *this* one?"

Kaito rolled over, flopping face-first into his pillow.  "The problem this time," he said, muffled, "is that I've gotta draw the baddies out so your dad can get hold of some of 'em for questioning.  According to, uh, some sources of mine, these Black Organization types will sooner kill each other before allowing any operatives to be held prisoner.  Hell, one of those rooftop-snipers in that damned dog-collar heist actually shot himself!  So what I need…" and he abruptly drew his knees in beneath him and pushed up onto them in one of his startlingly fast movements, "… is some sort of bait.  Only… what if they KNOW I've found the Gem?"

The Inspector's daughter hesitated, stroking the kitten that lay curled up beside her.  "I—don't suppose they could—no, that's silly."  She flumphed back onto the floor as well.

"What?"

"Well… could you make them think that there were *two* gems?  Or maybe that it had been split in half or something?  That maybe you had the first half and were going after the second?  I mean, if you made it really plain somehow that you had the first part… and that you were going after the second part, only THAT was the one where you drew them out… then…  Um, never mind.  I guess that's sort of stupid, isn't it?"

"Aoko….."

She blinked at his tone of voice.  "What?"

"….. that's GREAT."

"Huh?  I mean, it IS?  Oh, good."  The young woman sat up and watched as her companion dug through his school backpack for his books on Kyoto.  "Do you really think it'd work?"  Aoko felt inordinately pleased at Kaito's gleeful acceptance of her idea.  Of course, she had to keep reminding herself that what this boiled down to was planning a crime, and therefore she probably should be ashamed of herself, but…  "You said something on the way home about wanting to make it happen out of town—"

"Mmmhmmm…"  He flipped the book open to a marked spot.  "You know that museum we're gonna go see tomorrow on the field-trip?  Guess what it's next to?"  Without waiting for her to answer Kaito tapped the page he was brandishing before her nose with one long finger.  "The Botanical Gardens, that's what; I checked 'em out online while you were calling your dad earlier.  And there's a huge amount of artwork on display there, some sort of multi-cultural thing like the one that I filched Pandora from--"  He waved the book in the air excitedly, making the pages flap.  "What'll you bet there's something with a gem in it, something that'll match?  An emerald'd be good, or another East Indian piece—"

Aoko made a face, still staring up at the book.  "Speaking of my dad…  How would you feel about staying with somebody else while we're on the field trip instead of at the hotel with the rest of the class?  He sort of had fits about me leaving town and made a few phone calls…"  The elder Nakamori had had more than 'a few fits,' actually; he had all but refused to allow his daughter to set foot beyond known ground, but the intervention of his two 'guard-dogs' had managed to sway him over into reason—with a few modifications of plans.

"Where?  And how come?  I mean, I can see *you* staying in a safer place, but why me?"  The young thief raised his eyebrows.

She looked a little embarrassed.  "I, uh, suggested to my dad that maybe it'd be… better if I had an escort.  And *HE* suggested you."  The kitten beside her made a faint, derogatory snort and curled up into a tighter ball than before.

"Oh."  Kaito didn't quite know what to say to that, so he plopped back down onto his cushion with the book in his lap.  It was one thing to have been friends with the Inspector's daughter most of her life; it was something else entirely to be aware that her dad not only approved of you, but apparently trusted you with her safety.

The young woman in question glanced at him a little sideways, fighting back a smile.  "Actually, he said something else… he said that you had 'better behave yourself' or he'd 'turn you into a seatcover for his squad-car.'  He said a few other things, but that was the one I really remembered the most."

"Ergh."  So much for being approved of and trusted…..  "I get the picture.  So, uh, who are we staying with?"  Kaito changed the subject hastily.

The young woman yawned, stretching a little on her cushion (and currently derailing a few of his trains of thought in the process; she sure wasn't as flat-chested as she had been a year ago) and put her hands behind her head as she lay back.  "Some police bigshot he used to work under before he moved here; I think they were both at the same precinct in Nagoya when my dad was a rookie.  Named, ummmm…"  She dug around in one pocket and pulled out a scrap of paper, squinting at what she had written there.  "…named Hattori Heizo.  I think he's maybe a Chief Inspector in Osaka or something like that, and I've heard a bit about his son—Hattori Heiji, I think it is?  They call him the Western Detective….  Um, Kaito?  Kaito?  Hello?"  From beside her Spot raised his white head, watching with interest.

Aoko rolled on her side and waved one concerned hand in front of the frozen, wide-eyed thief's face.   "Kaito?   —Kaito, if you don't answer me, I'm going to get a glass of water and—"

He blinked several times, rapidly.  "No, no—I'm okay.  It's just…..  We've, ahhh, *met* before, Heiji-san and me, under sort of peculiar circumstances.  Just briefly, though—and he wouldn't recognize me."

"Why not?" she demanded, sitting up.

Kaito shot her an ironic look.  "I was several stories over his head on a hang-glider, carrying a stolen Russian Easter-egg; he was in the process of chasing me on his motorcycle."  He didn't mention Heiji's passenger; he had not explained anything about Kudo's current circumstances to Aoko as yet, and would not until given permission.

Understanding dawned.  "Oh, that sort of 'peculiar circumstances.'  So is this going to be a problem?  Staying with the police and all, I mean?  It's kind of late to change—we have to be at the school at 6:30 a.m. tomorrow morning, you know…"  Her father had already arranged for a squad-car to pick them up and deliver them—and for once, Kaito was all too willing to ride in one.  Just because he hadn't spotted any watchers when coming in didn't mean that they weren't there…..

Aoko scooted forward a little, scooping up and extra pillow into her lap and hugging it; the movement drew Kaito's thoughts back to the present.  "But if you're worried, I guess I can ask Keiko or Hakuba-kun to—"

The young magician scowled horribly.  "Get real, Aoko; why should it bother me?"  The scowl changed into a chuckle  and then into an ear-to-ear grin, as quickly and completely as a magic trick.  "Besides, I hang around with you, don't I?  And you're a lot scarier than any Great Western Detective could ever be…"  She hefted the pillow in obvious threat as he continued blithely on, watching a slow burn coming into the Inspector's daughter's eyes; she was so damned pretty when she was mad!  "And y'know, if I *do* get worried, all I've got to do to convince him I'm innocent, trustworthy and squeaky-clean is *this*—"

--and swift as Hakuba's hawk, he leaned forward and kissed her square on the mouth, pulling back laughing after a brief but intense second.  She stared, jaw dropping as Kaito fell over backwards onto his cushion with a huge, happy grin.  "—and everything'll be just fine, right?!?"

**WHUMPH!!!***  The pillow from her lap came down onto his face like the Trump of Doom, and the next fifteen minutes or so were spent in the kind of swing!-miss-swat!-dodge that was usually accomplished with the use of a mop, rather than a pillow.

Spot watched critically as they leaped and ducked and eventually came to a halt, wrapped around each other; there seemed to be a certain amount of petting and cuddling going on between them before they parted.  Silly humans…..

He licked at one immaculate white paw, admiring the delicate curve of his claws before curling up again.

***************************************************************************************************************************

TO BE CONTINUED…..

Ysabet's Notes:  Okay, WHY all the dream-sequences in this chapter?  To tell the truth, I haven't a clue, other than the fact that I was rereading over my old 'Second Wind' stuff for a detail I had forgotten and it was fun, going through all the reality/unreality shifts and changes with the dreamworld.  Why am I babbling on about this, since it's already written?

**clueless roll of eyes**  What, you thought I was in charge here?

Anyway…..  We're up to planning the heist.  This chapter got humongous rather quickly (didn't plan for the dream-sequences, or not for them to be that long anyway—and I'd apologize for the little hentai-ish 'misdirection' in the first one if I really felt guilty, which I *don't!*)—it's the longest one yet.  I have reasons for pretty much everything in it, though, TRUST me (mwahahahah)!!  The "Scream 'PERVERT'!!" scene is entirely Icka M. Chif's fault, though—she thought it up!

Next time:  Kyoto….. Heiji….. Kazuha….. heist-planning seen up close….. Spot vs. the Hawk of Doom….. the mathematics of riddle-planning..… and Hakuba, drat him.  How the hell did HE sneak into the plot? That wasn't supposed to happen… **droop**

This chapter is a present for both Icka M. Chif and Becky Tailweaver—Happy Birthday, y'all!!!  =^__^=