Guess what? I don't own Detective Conan/Case Closed, but you probably figured that out already...it doesn't take a genius to figure that out. Anyway, yeah, you know the normal drill for these disclaimer things...Oh yeah, if it isn't obvious by now, I'll be switching between using Jimmy and Conan every now and then. And I'll be using characters I'm mostly familiar with because it's just easier that way. Oh yeah, and sorry for any grammar mistakes or spelling mistakes or just things not making any sense. AU...whatever. Now...HACKNEYED STORY TIME! WOOHOO!

"I'm writing fanfiction!" talking

'I'm writing fanfiction!' thinking

Other stuff in Italics is usually a flashback or onomatopoeias or something.

Chapter 2:

Flashback! Someone Blew Up the Warehouse / Conan Sees Someone Familiar!

"Ahh!" Thud!

Richard, red-faced and slightly tipsy, slammed his cup down and bellowed: "YO, WAITOR! More sake!" Everyone was seated at a table in Sushi Sam's, doing what else? Eating sushi.

"Now, Richard," Dr. Agasa said, his accented voice concerned, "don't you think you should take it easy?"

Conan snorted. "You obviously haven't lived with him for six years, Doc. This is just the tip of the ice burg." the young detective stated dryly. He then went back to sulking. What can I say folks? He tried, but the gumshoe just couldn't handle happiness without his beloved Rachel. (A/N: Dude, I'm so gonna fix that!)

Richard frowned and then imitated Conan with a ridiculously high-pitched voice. "You obviously haven't lived with him for six years." Richard shook his head. "You know," he began, pointing a finger at the boy. "If my daughter didn't have her heart set on seeing you again and your parents were going to stay in Japan permanently, I'd kick you out...little killjoy...HEY! WAITOR! THE SAKE!"

"Uh...Richard," Booker Kudo, Jimmy/Conan's dad intervened tentatively. "We're right here, you know."

"Hmm? Oh, yeah!" Richard replied. He turned to the elder Kudos and said, "Doesn't that just suck? How our kids ended up? They really like each other...but they can't be together...Fate is so cruel...hmm...at least she isn't in love with an axe-murderer..." Richard then proceeded to pass out in his plate-full of sushi.

Everyone stared.

"Don't worry, you get used to it." Conan voiced.

"You are being a 'little killjoy' though." Harley commented. He was about to continue, but the waitor had finally arrived with Richard's long-awaited sake. "Thanks," Harley said, taking the beverage. "Cheer up, Conan (the waitor was still within earshot). We will find her you know... why do you have to act like you'll never see her again? Who's to say she won't walk in here at any moment, not knowing she'd be running into us?" (A/N: haha!)

"It's like Rip Van Winkle here said," Conan muttered darkly, pointing at the sleeping Richard with his thumb. "'Fate is so cruel.' Fate says she won't be walking in here because Fate is my archenemy."

Before Harley could reply, Conan had slipped back into sulking mode and into a reverie. Richard's words were still ringing in his head. They really like each other...but they can't be together...

Flashback!

"Where is Rachel with those napkins?" Conan asked no one in particular. He was getting worried. Rachel had been absent for five minutes now. "Oh come on, Jimmy!" he scolded himself. "She's only been gone for five measly minutes! There's no need to alert the police! Besides, she's a big girl who can take care of herself."

Conan recalled all the times he'd seen her perform karate. His long time love executed each punch and kick flawlessly with deadly precision and great strength. He chuckled and thought, 'Ha! And the award for understatement of the century goes to...'

Fifteen more minutes had passed and Conan grew even more worried.

"That's it!" Conan shouted. He couldn't understand what in the world would be keeping Rachel. "I'm gonna look for her!" And with that, he leapt off the bench and decided to check the ice cream shop across the street, the place where Rachel would most likely go to for napkins. 'I really wished she returned with those' he thought as he tried to ignore the smell of the bird poop atop his head.

He was about to step off the sidewalk to cross the street when a large BOOM resounded throughout the area. Conan looked up to see a huge cloud of smoke billowing in the bright blue sky. People were screaming and yelling, "What the hell was that?" Someone came running down the street shouting "Someone blew up the abandoned warehouse on 22nd Street!"

'22nd Street? That's right behind the ice cream shop...I sure hope Rachel's all right...' Conan's stomach flipped and he was rapidly being filled with a horrible sense of foreboding. Fear seized Conan's heart as a sudden thought crossed his mind. 'Oh no! What if...oh God—'

"RACHEL!" Conan ran as fast as his little legs could carry him towards the site of the huge blast.

When he got there the place was already combing with cops, firemen, and paramedics. Pieces of the warehouse were scattered all over the pavement while roaring flames enveloped whatever parts of the warehouse were left standing. Injured people were being treated here and there, policemen were asking people questions, and the firemen were doing there best to extinguish the huge fire.

Conan tried to get closer but he was stopped by a pair of arms picking him up and was scolded by a very familiar voice: "Hold it, kid!"

It was Richard. 'He must've followed the police here hoping for a case.' Conan guessed.

The inch-high private eye tried to wiggle free, kicking and shouting, "RICHARD! Let me go!"

"Why, so you can run into that fire? No way!" Richard yelled. He then caught a whiff of the poop on Conan's head. "Ugh! What is that on your head?"

"Forget about my head, you don't understand!" Conan cried out in panic. "I've got this feeling and-and Rachel... she-she was going to go get napkins for the stuff on my head and she's been gone for like, twenty minutes and sh-she went running in this direction earlier but then she n-never returned..."

"What? Are you suggesting that my daughter is in that fire?" Richard asked.

Both detectives looked each other square in the eye. Richard could tell the boy was completely serious. Never before had he seen such an intense look on the child's face, but Richard wasn't sure what to think of Conan's unspoken implication.

Now, the only true and solid bond that ever gave these two a connection in the first place was their love for the apparently missing Rachel Moore. Granted both held different types of love for the girl, (one as a father loves his daughter and the other as a man loves a woman with whom he wants to spend the rest of his life with) their feelings did give them some sort of similarity with each other. And it was that same similarity that caused Richard to finally go help Conan check if Rachel was anywhere around the explosion site. Well, that and the fact that the kid's never been wrong before...

"Hmph!" Richard, with Conan still captive in his arms, struggling to get free, approached Inspector Megure. He tapped the portly policeman on the shoulder after wedging Conan tightly between his arm and his side.

Megure turned around to see a somber Richard and a writhing Conan shoved up Richard's left armpit. "Oh, Moore!" His eyes darted between the squirming Conan and the grave faced Richard. "What's up?"

"Inspector," Richard began, "Have you found out if anyone was in the warehouse at the time of the explosion?"

"Don't know." Megure replied. He saw another officer making his way towards the trio. "Here's McAlester now, he should have a report..."

"Sir," the man named McAlester said. "Everyone around the area who has been injured during the blast is being treated and so far there are no deaths accounted for. There are a few reports of someone, maybe a girl, entering the warehouse about ten to twenty minutes earlier, but that hasn't been confirmed yet..."

Richard's jaw dropped. Conan stopped struggling. Both went deadly pale.

"Girl?" Richard murmured.

"Ten to twenty minutes ago?" Conan whispered.

"Hasn't been confirmed..." both mumbled in unison.

"WELL THEN FIND OUT!" Conan and Richard suddenly screamed at Megure's insubordinate. Megure and McAlester stared at the desperate pair.

"NOW!" Conan barked for emphasis. He as so frightened for Rachel right now; he failed to notice his shoelace inexplicably breaking during McAlester's report.

McAlester quickly nodded and ran off in search of more information.

"Mind explaining the outburst you two?" Megure ventured cautiously. "What's wrong?"

"Hopefully, nothing is wrong." Richard replied as he and Conan gazed at the dying fire that was the 22nd Street warehouse. Richard finally let Conan down and the small boy fell to his knees, placing his head in his hands.

'Oh my God...Rachel...Please, please be okay...please God, let her be all right...'

End Flashback!

Conan was brought out of his little reverie by his mother's yelling in his ear.

"CONAN! LOOK WHO WE RAN INTO! INSPECTOR MEGURE IS HERE ALONG WITH SOME PEOPLE I'D LIKE YOU TO MEET! THIS IS MY AUNT SAKURA, HER FRIEND MR. TERRANCE EFSTANIMOTO, AND HER OTHER FRIEND, ESTELLE MIYAZAKI!" his mother shouted.

Jimmy vaguely remembered his great aunt Sakura from his first childhood. He and his parents rarely visited her; they visited her mostly when Jimmy was little and before his parents began traveling abroad. Aunt Sakura had her silver hair pulled back into a bun and wore a white sweater and dark purple pants. She was a kindly old woman and this definitely shown through her warm features. She was everyone's dream grandma; baking cookies for you, knitting sweaters, and the rest of your typical grandma behavior.

"Lovely to meet you, Conan," Aunt Sakura greeted cheerfully. She had this look in her eyes that slightly bothered Conan. It was like she knew something that he didn't.

"Likewise," Conan replied.

"Terrance Efstanimoto," Terrance said. "Please, call me Terry. I consider it a lot better than being called 'Terrance' and 'Mr. Efstanimoto' is too much for most people to pronounce."

Jimmy turned his attention to Terry. Terry looked to be about his age. I mean, Jimmy's age in his adult form. He had dark blonde hair and wore jeans and dark blue sweatshirt. Terry was actually pretty good looking, but boy, what a funky name! He too held the same look of knowing Aunt Sakura had.

Conan saw Aunt Sakura lightly elbow a young girl trying to hide behind Terry and Inspector Megure. The girl stepped out and Conan was finally able to get a good look at her.

It looked like she was just thirteen or twelve and very beautiful. She had midnight black hair, bright green eyes, and wore a black shirt, plaid zipper cargo pants that bagged at her feet (in my minds eye it looks cuter than it sounds), black converse, and a black watch with silver studs on it (my friend's got a watch like this—it's really cool). Various bracelets covered her wrists and she wore a black choker around her neck. She was gripping the strap of her messenger bag nervously. But the thing that caught Conan's eye the most was her face. It bore an uncanny resemblance to Rachel's when she was that age. Her hair was just different, her eyes were a different color, and she dressed kind of differently than Rachel (it's just the pants, Rachel never really wore pants unless the weather called for it; she usually just wore skirts or shorts), but change all that and you'd have mini Rachel.

The girl squirmed under Conan's stare. "Err...Hey, I'm Estelle, Elle, Miyazaki. Nice to meet you all."

It was silent for three seconds when Conan suddenly gasped and ran toward the newcomers' direction.

"RACHEL!"

Woah...What to say after a chapter like that...What a scene at the warehouse! Something is SOOOO up with Aunt Sakura, Elle, and Terry. Ha! Richard never got his sake, just a face full of sushi! OMG! Is Rachel back? Is that why Elle looks so familiar? Ha! Thank you captain obvious! Well...this chapter was definitely longer. And ooh look! I think this ending might just qualify as a sort of cliffhanger! Wow! Tune in next time to see what happens next! With each passing chapter, we get closer and closer to reuniting Jimmy and Rachel! Yay! See you next time! MOSTLY ALL TYPE OF FEED BACK IS WELCOME (EXCEPT FOR THE MEAN KIND!)