One Step Closer

By Raining Dreams ("Bunny")

(Written 8/18/04)

I told you so: I TOLD you all. I knew Highschool would be horrible. And it IS. Yesterday I came home and CRIED, as did my best friend. We cried to each other over the phone, and to our mums, AND at Borders later that night. And let me tell you: Allison and I don't cry. We just DON'T. For those interested, email or AIM me for details. Let's just leave it at I got lost, I have no friends (Allison goes to another school), I HATE four out of seven teachers, I had at least 16 panic attacks, and my tummy hurt. And my bus was over an hour late. That was just yesterday.

I cried this morning because I didn't want to go back, and as soon as I got home this afternoon.

You bunch of liars.

Keep reviewing or I won't love you anymore. BECAUSE you have reviewed though, you get a reallll fluffy chapter. -hee-

Notice: Meh. I'm too ish to write back to my reviewers at the moment. Please keep reviewing though, guys. They really make me feel better when I'm upset and DO help me write. At the risk of sounding cheesy: Each and every one makes me smile and feel really nice, which really helps when I get upset and minorly depressed like I am at the moment. I read ALL of them as soon as I get up and as soon as I get home. I'll say thank you in advance for everyone. Thank you very much.

Disclaimer: -stare- I've told you a jillion times now. I DON'T OWN DETECTIVE CONAN!!! Feh. My tummy hurts.

One Step Closer: File 5

Jimmy tried to pay attention to the door; to the situation. But Rachel... she was so close he could feel her heartbeat pounding in her chest. Her every breath. He couldn't help but be distracted. Not just because she was holding onto him like that, but because she was so terrified. He tried desperately to think of something. He had to protect her. He glanced furiously around, each step outside echoing dangerously in his head.

Rachel too, was busy thinking, but coming up with a blank. The guy had a gun and all she had was karate. If he could hit Jimmy like he had, she wasn't going to stand a shot at kicking him. So, she did all she could think of. She pulled herself as close to her childhood friend as she could burying her face hopelessly into his shoulder.

Jimmy looked around still, Rachel's dark hair tickling his neck, reminding him forever of his task. He'd never seen her this frightened. He needed a distraction. After all, they couldn't very well take him down. That's when he noticed it. A blanket on the floor... It was a small chance, but at chance all the same. He leaned over, reluctant to take his arm from around her, placing a corner in her face. She blinked, taking it, staring at him. "Rache," he whispered, and informed her of 'the plan'. She nodded, and they silently got up, holding it stretched taunt between the door. Slowly, the steps stopped, and the door creaked slowly open. Mr. Cunningham lept in, firing a careless shot. He was met by being entangled in a blanket.

Jimmy grabbed a stunned Rachel, yanking her after him, all but jumping the flight of stairs. They found a closet, hiding behind a wall of long, elegant dresses. The sound of the electricity flickered on with a soft hum. They huddled, breathing as quietly as possible, when Rachel's eyes got wide.

"Oh..oh my god! Conan!!" she whispered, a look of panic sweeping over her features. "Conan! He's upstairs!! He's asleep...ohmygod he's going to die and it's all my--" she was cut off by Jimmy placing a finger on her lips.

"Hush. He's fine. He locked his door earlier in case any drunks showed up being rowdy. He's a clever kid. He'll get himself out of any trouble he gets into."

"But--"

"Shhhh... calm down." he hesitated, before pulling her gently into his arms. Rachel blushed, her head against his chest. They just sat like that, each awaiting the other to say something. Rachel was at a loss for words entirely, so Jimmy decided to say something instead. Now might be my last shot..."R..Rache?"

"..yes?"

"I just want to tell you that I--" he was cut off in mid-confession at the sound of the stairs creaking as someone walked down. He held Rachel tighter, closing his eyes and gritting his teeth. She clung right back, trying her best to stay as calm as she could. Footsteps echoed down the halls, doors occasionally opening, then closing. Then came the sinister, rough voice they'd learned to shiver at.

"Come out, come out, wherever you are." Each teen could fell their heart skip a beat as the man opened the door and flipped on the light. He abruptly pushed several racks of clothes away. First the suits, then the dress shirts and pants, then the pajamas. He toppled shoe shelves and finally he stopped at the evening dresses. He flung several to the side, and came within a foot of Rachel's face. The black barrel of his gun probed like the nose of a dog in the gap, but he just sighed, walking out and slamming the door angrily behind himself.

Both Rachel and Jimmy gasped quietly, exhaling the breath they'd been holding while he'd preformed his search. While Rachel buried her head into Jimmy's chest, he placed his in her hair. The shortly after pulled away, blushing.

"You...you were saying something?" she asked quietly.

"Erm...it's not important. Let's figure out how to get out," She nodded, putting on her 'thinking face', and Jimmy did the same. They thought, thought, thought for a good ten minutes, grimacing at every sound. Without weapons, they were up a creek without a paddle. Or were they...? Jimmy had his watch and bow tie in his pocket (The Professor had invented a sort of stretch clothing designed to fit both forms. VERY handy at the moment) But he'd need a distraction. He couldn't very well put Rachel up. Or could he? Was there a way to have her distract him without putting her in immediate danger? He thought, closing his eyes tightly, wracking his brain. Think, Jimmy, THINK.

6 years previous...

"OH!! Jimmy! Check it out!! A house of mirrors!" an eleven year old squealed, waving furiously to a boy who had a sort of bored look on his face, a bandage on each elbow. They were quite a contrast, Rachel and Jimmy. Rachel was a karate girl, but quiet and sweet. Unless you messed with her, Jimmy, or her newfound friend, Serena. Then you could count on being thrown into next week. Jimmy was a tomboyish, blooming detective who was far to obsessive over Sir Conan Doyal's Sherlock Holmes series. He walked over. In all honesty, the carnival wasn't his idea of 'fun'. People, people, rides, silly attractions, junk food, and more people. That was all it was. But Rachel had insisted on coming, so he'd agreed. She was so cute when she was this excited and high on sugar. The sixth-graders entered, gazing around and wandering rather aimlessly. Rachel reached out to hold onto Jimmy, but found herself touching a mirror. The child blinked, touching out again. A whimper emitted from her throat.

"J...Jimmy?? Where are you?!"

"I'm right here, Rache."

"Which one is you?! I can't tell!!... Move to me or something!" Moments later, the real Jimmy Kudo approached, one hand on the right side of the wall. He touched her shoulder, leading her out. Rachel shivered.

"I'm never doing that again..."

Jimmy smirked. And bingo was his name-o. He peered out of the clothes, gazing about, before ducking back in. Rachel just stared. "I have a plan." he whispered to her. A small smile tugged at her lips. If Jimmy had a plan, they were going to be okay.

ooc: Gads. That was bad. That was really bad. It's short and bad. But can you blame me? I can't remember the last time I was this stressed and depressed. I'm really sorry, guys. Please forgive meh.