Yesterday was one of those bleary Tuesdays that ran the rain straight from the gutter to the drain. It was a dark day, with monstrous grey clouds that never left the sky and only seemed to grow as the showers poured on for hours on end; and as much as it rained, the humidity still stuck around – unquenched, undaunted, and unyielding.

But that was yesterday.

Today was a golden Wednesday, comfortably dry and warm, full of sunbeams that coasted from the little spot on the horizon and glittered on for miles, sailing through blue skies and clear air, until finally the rays smashed into the sturdy glass windows that adorned the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department Headquarters and landed just so on Aoko's desk and highlighted the exact paragraph in the file she was currently reading.

The file was large and bulky, stuffed with endless copies, faxes, and legal documents that pertained to the soon-to-be notorious Tsukikage case, which had just been closed less than twenty-four hours ago. Aoko was the arresting officer, which left the responsibility for the write-up on her shoulders. It had been her lead that had sparked a bite of curiosity in her stomach - had led her into a long chase that lasted all night, splashing through puddles as they ran through the backstreets of Tokyo – until finally she had arrested the culprit and brought an end to one of the largest cases she'd ever been a part of.

The report process was nothing short of arduous; signatures had to be inked, descriptions had to be backdated and matched, and red herring language had to be expunged. It was a department policy (policy, of course, because it was grey enough to not be legally enforceable) to clean the documents before they were put away and filed, as the next time they would be examined would be in front of a courtroom. Cleaning the documents meant that the evidence would strictly and only point towards the arrested suspect, thus bettering the odds of a guilty verdict. There were to be no surprises at the trial.

Especially at the Tsukikage trial.

"Nakamori-keiji?" A voice stirred her from her side. She'd been so focused on her work that she hadn't heard anyone even approach her. She glanced up to see her supervisor, Inspector Shiratori. He scanned his eyes over her desk. "May I see you in my office?"

Aoko glanced back at her files, just as he had done. The sunrays had moved just a hair and now her file was pitched into a dark shadow. A few more pages and she'd be done with that packet. "Just give me one moment, sir."

"Certainly," Shiratori said, walking back to his office already. "Take your time."

His door shut behind him with a resonating click, and suddenly Aoko became aware of how silent the office was. The fans from yesterday had been shut off in the wake of the cool dry breeze now coming in through the windows, and half the staff had gone out for lunch and were due back in an hour. She, of course, had foregone lunch every day for the past how many years in favor of catching up (read: busting her ass) on paperwork.

And now Inspector Shiratori wanted to see her in his office.

It couldn't be a coincidence that Inspector Shiratori wanted to see her in his office so close to the close of the Tsukikage case. It was a big case. Maybe it was even big enough that -

She forced a smile away from her lips. Yeah, she'd heard they were looking for a replacement for the Inspector position in the third division. She'd updated her resume and prepped her application and inquired about the opening. Everyone knew she was jockeying into position for that promotion. And now it was going to happen. It had to happen.

Finally, after all these years – finally, everything was going to be perfect.

A heart that's full up like a landfill
A job that slowly kills you
Bruises that just won't heal

Across town, the sunbeams were smashing off the top of a large party tent as well.

A magician took the stage underneath the canopy. It would've been his preference to make a flashier entrance, perhaps with a flash bomb, but the bullet he took to his leg last October rendered that sort of activity impossible. The pain went down substantially over the past few months, but there was a lingering soreness that wouldn't quite quit. The bullet had probably shocked a nerve as well – his leg grew fuzzy and prickly at the oddest times and the rest of his limbs would occasionally shake or twitch depending on the phase of the moon or the way a butterfly fluttered its wings in India. He doubted he'd ever walk without a limp again.

But, as he flashed a dazzling smile at the crowd of twenty or so children that sat criss-cross applesauce before him, he also sorely doubted he'd ever have a need to. After all - Kuroba Kaito, magician, had nothing to run from.

On the other hand –

Kaitou KID, international jewel thief, sure did have a lot of running left to do. A lot of running he couldn't do anymore.

His nervous system interfered, and the cards splayed out from his clumsy, shaking hands as he fumbled a simple shuffle, the deck scattering itself across the crowd and raining down on them like confetti. It was all he could do to hold himself together for the time being and laugh it off like it was just a part of the act.

It ended up being the worst show of his life, but the children had a blast anyway.

You look so tired, unhappy
Bring down the government
They don't, they don't speak for us

Aoko rapped on Shiratori's office before entering, trying to keep her bubbling enthusiasm down to an undetectable level. Too early to celebrate, Ahoko, she chided herself. Don't embarrass yourself! "You wanted to see me, sir?"

Shiratori was seated at his desk, caught between a printed memo and his work email on the computer. He nodded and gestured at the leather armchair in front of his desk. "Yes, take a seat."

And sat, she did. An easy order to follow. If only those butterflies in her stomach would stay down (Promotion, they cried!). "Is this about the Tsukikage case?"

"The Tsu – oh, right," Shiratori blinked for a moment. "I heard you did some good work closing that case. Good job."

Good job.

She felt her heart shatter with those words. She really shouldn't have gotten her hopes up.

It – it was only the biggest case she'd ever worked on. If any case was going to be her ticket to becoming an Inspector, that was the case. And like a strong breeze, Shiratori had just ripped that ticket out of her hand.

She swallowed thickly. "Thank you, sir."

Shiratori held the paper memo in his hands, rereading it for two seconds before looking back at her with a hard stare. "Nakamori-keiji, I want to begin by saying that you are a great asset to this division. You have this can-do attitude that a lot of the other officers here don't have. It makes you a real pleasure to work with and it shows you have the makings of a great detective." A sigh. "Which makes this conversation a lot more difficult to have."

Aoko could only nod. It was hard to comprehend what he was saying in the moment, the throbbing in her head was so loud.

"Division Two has had a break in one of their cases. Long story short, it has led to some people upstairs questioning your -" Shiratori paused and searched for the word in the ceiling, "- integrity. I have been informed that there will be an investigation conducted and I expect you will cooperate with Internal Affairs on this matter. In the interim, effective immediately you will be placed on an unpaid leave of absence pending further review -"

Aoko bristled. "Excuse me? You're suspending me?!"

"Now, Nakamori-keiji, I never said the word 'suspension'…" And fuck the way his voice was so steady with that administrative lingo bullshit.

"What case is this about anyway?!"

As if she had to even ask. There was only one case Division Two – the theft division - could ever connect her to.

"Unfortunately, I am not at liberty to discuss that."

"Liberty my ass!" Aoko shouted, before dutifully tacking on a belated, "…Sir!"

She stormed out of the building, not bothering with cleaning up her desk. Fuck the Tsukikage case, her replacement could finish it for all she cared. Marching into the parking lot and dropping into her car, she whipped out her phone and called the only person she could think to call at a time like this.

"Please answer…" she muttered, rapping her fingers against the steering wheel impatiently as the other end of the phone rang and rang and rang.

"Hello?"

She let out a choked sob. She hadn't realized how comforting hearing his gruff voice would be. "Dad? Can we talk?"

"Sure." He must have heard her tears. "I'm guessing Shiratori-keibu already talked to you?"

"Dad, what's this about? They said your department found something and now there's an investigation on me, I haven't even done anything, and nobody will tell me what's going on!"

"Oh, Aoko," Ginzo breathed. "Oh, Aoko. I'm so, so sorry…"

I'll take a quiet life
A handshake of carbon monoxide

Aoko slipped into a folding chair beside Kaito, who handed her a pamphlet as he whispered, "You're late."

Late, that was, for a music recital at Shinju's school that began about fifteen minutes ago. Aoko brushed off his snide comment in favor of skimming through the pamphlet. "Ran into something at work."

"Big case?"

"Bigger," She bit back in a whisper, keeping their conversation hushed. "You."

That got him sitting up straight. "What about 'me'?"

She closed the pamphlet and put it in her purse. "Cops have a lead who the Kaitou KID is. Not quite sure what the lead is, but apparently they have 'rock solid' evidence pointing to you as their prime suspect."

The crowd erupted into applause, stirring the couple out of their quiet conversation. The first class had just finished their song and were now vacating their risers, as the next class was filing in. Kaito grumbled, "I thought I was in the clear. Damn."

"What do you mean?"

"Do you still remember… that heist back in October?" His hand absent mindedly touched on his bad leg. "The one you shot me at?"

"Of course." And their conversation after. She tried desperately to push away the memory of his lips on hers. Bad memory, bad!

"Well, I bled. Kind of a lot." Kaito frowned. "I thought I did a good job keeping it contained and not dripping on the ground or anything, but I didn't exactly have a lot of time to go back and clean up. If they found blood – in the elevator shaft, or in the hallway or stairwell, or even the rooftop guardrail – shit, I'm so fucking stupid. Why didn't I think of any of this earlier?"

"I'm sorry," because it was the only thing she could think of to say.

He looked at her with surprise. "Why?" He shook his head, a smile finally gracing his lips. "This'll be an easy fix. I'll just break into the evidence locker and steal anything that remotely identifies me as KID."

Aoko blanched, slapping hands to her ears. "I can't be hearing this! Kaito, I'm a cop!"

"Not right now," he teased.

She soured immediately. It was insane how quickly her mood could frost over. "Shut up."

"You're off the clock, though."

"I'm serious," she turned away from him, as much as she could in the middle of a gymnasium of folding chairs during a kindergarten music recital. "Shut up."

"Jeez, what's your problem? I'm just kidding -"

"Well, it's not funny." She folded her arms. "Did you know they suspended me over this? Even if you get rid of the evidence, what am I supposed to do? Everyone in the department knows it's you now, regardless of whether there's physical evidence there or not. Nobody will trust me again. And I can kiss my career goodbye – if they even let me go back to work after this!"

Suddenly his hand was on her arm. Soft and gentle, calming and reassuring.

And no alarms and no surprises

"We'll figure this out." He declared quietly, soft but firm. "Everything's going to be okay."

It's oddly comforting.

And that's exactly what strikes her about it. She hasn't felt comforted by Kaito in a long time. Too long.

And now, his hand on her arm, his palm warm with his calm steady heartbeat – she could live in that moment forever.

But there was that one thing he said that she just couldn't ignore.

No alarms and no surprises

"We?"

No alarms and no surprises

It wasn't accusatory or angry. Just a simple question.

Kaito took his hand off her arm just as easily as he put it there. "You know what I meant."

And she certainly did. She wasn't sure if he did, though.

But it'd be nice if he did.

Silent, silent

It was going to take more than a bullet to the leg and a permanent crippling injury to hold him back, Kaito mused as he army-crawled through the ventilation system of the Tokyo Metro Police Headquarters.

He'd only had mere hours to plan this reconnaissance mission. With how big the case was, and with his connection to the Metro Police via the two badged Nakamori's, it was only a matter of time before the Metro Police were removed from the Kaitou KID investigation once and for all, and the case was handed over to the big guns. When that happened, all the evidence would be packed up and shipped far, far away, and Kaito would have to spend even more time tracking it down. If he could get to it now, when he knew where it was and how to get to it (he'd spent hours memorizing the HQ's layout, after all), everything would be ten thousand times easier.

Which meant that immediately after Shinju's recital, he had run back to his apartment to begin the planning. This wasn't a normal heist – there'd be no jewel, and no return, although he would be stealing something quite priceless: his freedom. And because this wasn't a normal heist, and was instead a reconnaissance mission, there was no need for tricks and showmanship. He just needed a bottle of Clorox and a mop – to clean up the mess he made. And his covert black uniform and shades, of course.

He had been stupidly naive to think the police wouldn't find the blood. It was everywhere. Even where he couldn't see it – the mist left traces that were invisible to the naked eye. Hakuba had told him all about the blood spatter analysis techniques that the forensics team had to their disposal.

He should have listened to Hakuba more.

Scratch that – fuck Hakuba. Hakuba didn't deserve the time of day, that obnoxious British bastard. Come to think of it, Hakuba was probably the one who found the evidence, that damn bloodhound.

Finally Kaito reached the vent above the evidence room. Peering through the slats, he could make out most of the room. Lights on, but otherwise empty. Good enough for him. He unscrewed the vent cover and set it aside, careful to make sure the screws didn't rattle around as he moved.

Dropping into the room was a harder task than he anticipated. His bad leg locked up, refusing to cooperate. He settled for lowering himself first onto a shelf and then scooting off it, good leg touching the ground first. He glanced worried eyes up to the vent. It was pretty far up. If his leg didn't stop spasming, he'd probably have to look into getting a new escape route.

But that was a problem for later. Right now he had to find the blood spatter evidence and destroy it. Of course, the police most likely already had digital copies on their database, but tampering with the original physical sample would be his best bet in getting the evidence tossed in court – if it ever came to that.

And that was a strong if. Kaito knew whatever evidence they had wasn't as rock solid as Aoko made it out to be during their conversation at the recital. If it was, they wouldn't just be placing Aoko and her father on suspension; instead, he'd be rotting in a jail cell by now. But he wasn't, and that was a big thing to celebrate.

He finished searching the first aisle – the one he landed in – to no avail. Most of the boxes were too small to bother checking their labels, and the bigger boxes turned out to be for murder investigations or the like. He was almost about to pull his hair out when he spotted a big door right in front of him, labeled:

KAITOU KID EVIDENCE LOCKER

Which was awfully reasonable, Kaito reflected. Kaitou KID was a big case, after all: an international jewel thief who had been active for the past, what, twenty years or so? There was bound to be a lot of evidence for his case.

That didn't stop him from feeling awful proud of himself. To think – a whole evidence locker, dedicated to him and him alone! His hand was on the handle of the door, turning it quicker than someone could say Pride Goeth Before –

The handle didn't turn.

Instead, a metal handcuff sprang out and clicked in place around his hand. A thunderous concert of footsteps approached from behind. Damn, the cops must have been camping out waiting for him to show. It was all a trap, everything was a trap – and he walked right into it like the stupid fucking moron that he was -

One set of footsteps stopped right behind him, the person's breath close enough to feel on his neck.

"We have you surrounded, Kaitou KID," Shiratori stated, cool as ice. "Or should I say Kuroba Kaito?"

This is my final fit
My final bellyache

His stomach was gone, fallen into a pit far closer to hell than he'd ever danced before.

Kaito couldn't bring himself to turn around. He was completely exposed. Sure, he had on his shades – but that was hardly a disguise. He wasn't wearing a mask or makeup, he had been confident enough to strut into the lion's den without a single defense and now he was getting his just desserts. He'd been close to being caught before, but this was – this was different. He was seen. This was real.

A picture flashed before his eyes: a family portrait, from when Shinju was young. Smiling, cheery faces - Aoko holding Shinju, propping her head up because she was too little to hold it up herself - Kaito's arms around Aoko but not even close to touching Shinju. If Shinju was the subject, Kaito was, at best, in the periphery. They could crop him out and it'd be just the same.

Except… no it wouldn't. He told the joke that planted that big cheesy smile on Aoko's face. He drove them to the photo studio that awful rainy afternoon, skidding around on the wet, slick roads in their old beat-up jalopy and somehow getting them there in one piece. He was the father and the husband - now ex-husband, but some sort of husband regardless - an invaluable, irreplaceable part of the family.

He wanted to be part of that picture again.

So he needed to fight – tooth and nail.

He finally turned around to face the officers who had gathered behind them. They had come prepared, dressed to the nines in their very best riot gear: helmet, bullet-proof vest, and shin-guards all included. It was like facing a sea of faceless robots, all reaching out for him.

His mind raced as he scanned through the objects at his disposal. His lockpicks were in his sleeve, and they could prove to be useful as he doubted the handcuff they had him in was anything fancy; only Aoko had the smarts to solicit Hakuba for a custom pair, and Hakuba himself was too busy with his own personal affairs to be bothered with setting a stupid trap like this that the crafty and sly Kaitou KID would never in a million years walk into…

I can't believe how much of a fucking idiot I am, Kaito berated himself yet again, wishing he could slam his head into the wall.

Regardless, lock pick it was. His hand was free in a blink of an eye, and he was gearing up to vault over the sea of officers when suddenly –

His leg. Oh, fuck, his leg!

Halfway into the jump, he crumpled before his leg even left the ground. Not quite falling to the floor – his pride wouldn't allow that – he shifted himself to slouch against the wall behind him as he tried to regain what little composure he had left.

This was unnerving. It felt like he was back in that apartment tower, handcuffed to Aoko and unable to run away. The pain was back, full-force. Nothing bleeding – it was just the same phantom pain he'd been living with for months, the phantom feelings of blood still trickling down his leg, a phantom bullet continuously shooting through his thigh and carving out a little home for itself forever in his flesh.

He was a goner. The only approach now was…

A cop approached him, wearing a helmet just like the rest of them. Kaito only had a moment to ponder the intricacies of being an unmasked criminal who was being apprehended by a faceless, anonymous cop.

"Hands behind your back," the officer said in a low gruff voice that promised nothing but misery.

He complied.

The officer locked a pair of thick iron handcuffs on his wrists, colder than any pair he'd ever had before. And then he was being processed through the precinct, past the desks of task force officers he'd known since he was a child, and finally they stopped in front of the elevator.

The holding cells of the precinct were in the basement. In one short ride his wings would be clipped and he'd be finally locked up. He tried not to think about what prison had in store for him. Snake was on the loose still, and for as dumb as the man was he was certainly still a force to be reckoned with. He wouldn't last long in prison, Kaito thought with a swallow. If he even made it that far.

The elevator chimed open.

With no alarms and no surprises

He felt a hand on his back pushing him forward. He stumbled first before falling completely into the elevator. Somehow the doors were already closing, and the uniformed arms were reaching out for him but blocking each other's way as they created a mess of clambering limbs in the closing doors.

And through the narrow slit, just before the elevator doors closed completely, he caught sight of the cop – the one who'd placed those cold iron shackles around his wrists – sprinting down the hallway with half the task force hot on their heels.

No alarms and no surprises

It was an easy escape after that, as the genuine fear (of being caught) and adrenaline (from actually being caught) was enough to drive away the leg spasms enough for him to climb into the elevator shaft and wiggle his way to a connected vent. He didn't spend time pondering the odd cop who'd lent him their aid in his hour of need. That was something to wonder about when he wasn't currently being hunted by every single police officer in the city of Tokyo.

He got out of that precinct in one piece, driven by auto-pilot, and before he knew it the vent was dumping him out into the alleyway directly behind the building. He landed gently in a particularly rancid pile of trash, in a dumpster placed conveniently underneath the vent by some good-natured soul who - (just kidding, it was by him. Obviously. A long time ago he wheeled the dumpster there as a preventive measure, and apparently the city's environmental service workers liked the new spot enough to leave it there for the next seven years).

Scrambling out of the dumpster, his head bobbed up over the side of the container, just for him to come face to face with a helmet. A police officer's helmet.

His face went white and he nearly dropped back down into the trash bags in fright. How did the cops know this is where they'd find him? Sure, they were faster and less crippled than he was, but –

Still face to face, knuckles as white as his bone as they clung to the dumpster sides, his eyes finally focused behind the tinted face shield – and then lingered on the cop's familiar pale blue eyes.

His heart started beating again (had it ever truly stopped?) and against his own nature he felt a crooked, sheepish grin creep onto his face. "What'd I say? An easy fix!"

"Ba-kai-to!" Aoko's heavenly voice chimed out, ringing in time with her fingers flicking against his forehead. "What would you have done if I wasn't there to save you?!"

"But you were," his grin broadened, "and let me just say, it was the most incredible surprise!"

No alarms and no surprises
Please…

The eternally missing Kudou Shinichi apparently decided to un-disappear himself one day, just in time to propose to his longtime girlfriend and marry her a month later. The wedding was thrown together in four short weeks, the planning spearheaded completely by the groom's vivacious mother and the expenses offset by the bride's extremely wealthy best friend.

The entire police force had received a single invitation in bulk from the couple, as almost every officer was at least acquainted in some way to the pair due to their many, many murderous encounters over the past years. Kudo Shinichi probably would have invited the building itself if he was able, but seeing as that was not possible he settled on inviting every single officer inside of it instead.

This is how Aoko found herself dancing to a jazzy tune on the back patio of the Kudou Mansion, spinning in circles as her dance partner twirled her hand. Sure, she wasn't really part of the police force at the moment (what with her integrity being called into question, and all), but she was when she answered the invitation – and hey, a party was a party, she figured. Why not have a little fun?

Her dance partner – one Kuroba Kaito – had a bright smile on, clearly enjoying himself. In the first hours of the party she had wondered why he had even dared show his face in a place full of policemen who were actively trying to convict him, but his sheer ignorance (most likely feigned) of their suspicious glares was enough to keep her thoughts off the matter for the time being. His cheeks were flushed, for once from excitement instead of stress or liquor, and all at once he flicked his hand and she twirled back towards him.

She landed with her head in the crook of his neck, brushing her cheek against his. "I still can't believe you actually agreed to come."

"I never turn down a challenge," he responded, putting on that silky, suave voice he always reserved for Kaitou KID.

"So what's the plan?" Aoko asked.

"Plan?" He laughed. "Aoko, there's no plan at all, not really. I'm going to deny everything, obviously, and Hakuba's going to hit me with the best evidence he's got. Meanwhile - deny, deny, deny! We'll see how far it gets me. It's all going to be one big surprise!"

"You say that like it's something to be excited about!"

"Oh, but it is! It's a start to a new adventure!" Kaito had a twinkle in his eye, casting his head up to smile at the stars. "It's all very exciting!"

"Maybe for you."

The twinkle dulled. "Again, Aoko, I'm really -"

"Don't say you're sorry," Aoko said. "I'm just a little stressed. But who knows? Maybe it's not such a bad thing after all."

Kaito looked at her weirdly. "How is your suspension not a bad thing?"

"Maybe you're right," Aoko said after a long moment of contemplation. "Maybe it's all very exciting. Maybe a career change is in order." She laughed. "And I was just getting to hate my job, too!"

Such a pretty house
And such a pretty garden

The jazz took them dancing over to a solid stone bench, which they finally collapsed onto when their legs couldn't dance anymore. They lounged against each other, pointing at things around the property.

"Look at the window over there," Kaito said. "It's got an Ives 990B lock. I could have picked that when I was twelve." Then he pointed at the roofline. "Look at the shingles. Yeah, I know, the roof looks steep as hell, right? But the shingles are the key. Those are slate, Aoko, and they provide excellent traction so you can run up and down them easier than any other shingle type – as long as you've got the balance, obviously."

Finally, he pointed to the eastern side of the house. "Look how the rose branches weave up the side of the house." Aoko looked, expecting him to finish up by explaining the various ways that he could break into the mansion by climbing up the rose vine. Instead, he just sighed. "It's kind of pretty, don't you think?"

"I - I guess it is," she agreed, surprised at his comment.

They stared at the rose vines for a little while longer, debating in silence.

"I miss our old house," Kaito said suddenly. "We used to have a beautiful little rose garden out front, remember?"

"You're calling that a garden?!" Aoko couldn't help but laugh. "Kaito, that thing was filled with weeds!"

Kaito laughed too, scratching his head. "Yeah, I guess I kind of suck at gardening. My mom never really taught me anything past how to water a plastic cactus." He was still staring at the rose vines. "I just wish I could try again."

"You can plant a rose garden in front of any house," Aoko suggested.

"But I liked that house." Kaito finally glanced at Aoko. "Didn't you?"

"I did." Aoko coughed, then corrected herself, as if she had said the wrong thing, "I do."

Suddenly he leaned in.

No alarms and no surprises
(Get me out of here)

It was the softest kiss they ever shared. No longing, no sadness, no regret, no defeat. Just a simple kiss that might have lasted for an eternity.

Just a simple kiss meant to be repeated, over and over.

No alarms and no surprises
(Get me out of here)

And the band seemed to keep playing on forever, singing sweet jazz melodies into the night's humid air. With the flow of the music they found themselves clinging to each other in a careful embrace, scared to let go and lose themselves once again.

No alarms and no surprises
Please…

"No more surprises," Kaito promised.

"But I love surprises," Aoko said, leaning in for a kiss. "That's why I married you in the first place."

"It's also why you divorced me," he reminded her, answering her with a quick peck on the lips.

That made her giggle, before suggesting, "Then how about 'no secrets'?"

"That sounds perfect," Kaito said.

Another kiss.

"Absolutely perfect."