Hakuba learns how to make friends and influence kaitou.

Hakuba Saguru checked his watch for the twenty-sixth time that night: four minutes, thirty-eight seconds since the last time he looked. He sighed and snapped the timepiece shut. This type of anxiety was new to the London detective, and he wasn't quite sure what to make of it.

Was he worried for a classmate, or worried for a thief? And where was Kid's partner?

Saguru glanced over at the hooded cloak with its odd patterns. He hadn't known how to fold the garment, so he had draped it over the back of a chair. The teen - whoever he was - had promised he'd be back for it. He'd promised an explanation, too.

Saguru resumed pacing. He had been aware, in a vague sort of way, that shots had been heard at some of Kid's heists. Like most of the Force, he had assumed they were unrelated. He hadn't thought someone was shooting at Kid. Even if he had, he would never have thought that the thief could be hit.

It was shocking to realize that he, like the rest of the world, had bought into the myth that Kid was invincible. More than that, he was untouchable - a phantom in name and deed.

Until tonight.

The doorbell rang, startling him from his thoughts. Saguru hurried to the entrance. He didn't even bother to ask himself who it was; only one person had reason to be at his doorstep this late at night.

The figure outside was much as Saguru remembered, although he now sported a dark hoodie in place of the missing cloak. "I wouldn't have expected you to use the door."

"You saved us tonight," Kid's partner answered. "I figured the least I could do was not break into your house."

Saguru moved aside, holding the door open in silent invitation, and his guest breezed past. The detective lead the way inside, but paused as he passed the kitchen. "Tea?"

Kid's partner hesitated for a second. "That . . . would be appreciated."

Saguru nodded. "The living room is that way. Unless you want to make sure I don't tamper with your drink."

His guest shook his head. "I trust you." Despite the bright light, his smirk was the only feature visible. "For tonight."

Saguru nodded and went to make tea. As the water heated, he rubbed tiredly at his eyes. If Kid was in critical condition, his partner wouldn't be sitting on Saguru's couch. Ergo, Kid was alive. He would survive, and, with any luck, Saguru's nightmares wouldn't be haunted with blood-stained white silk. He put two cups on a tray and left the kitchen.

His guest had indeed settled on the couch. Saguru set the tray down and took the seat across from him. There was silence for a while as both sipped at hot, fragrant, calming liquid.

Saguru broke the silence first. "Is he all right?" No names - he didn't want to play the game of accuse-and-deny tonight.

"He'll be fine." Kid's partner appeared to be staring down into his cup. "The shot itself barely hit him. It was the crash that knocked him out."

Saguru tried not to let his relief show, then decided it didn't matter.

"What about you?" his guest asked, leaning forward slightly and nodding toward the cloak. "Any trouble?"

Saguru shook his head. "They followed for a while, but seemed to catch on quickly. No one fired at me, in any case."

"I don't know what would have happened if you hadn't drawn them off." Kid's partner smiled, setting his empty cup back on the tray. "Tonight, I'm in your debt, so I'll answer your questions." The smile turned sharp. "Within reason, of course."

"Of course," Saguru said faintly. His mind was in disarray from the sheer number of possibilities. Should he ask about Kid? His mystery guest? Their partnership, methods, goals? The snipers?

What came out of his mouth was: "Might I have your name?"

His guest appeared startled. "My name?"

"I'd prefer to have some way of referring to you other than 'Kid's partner.'"

"I suppose." Said partner hummed, seeming pleased. "Very well. You can call me Reed."

"Reed-san, then." The detective tilted his head. "I suppose asking about Kid is off the table?"

"That's not my information to give."

Saguru nodded, having expected little else. "What about the snipers, then?"

Reed frowned. "Ah. They've been following him as long as I have."

"Which is?"

"Several months - ever since the Blue Birthday heist. That was before we really met. Neither of us was expecting Them. I wasn't prepared. Kid was."

Saguru swallowed. That long. There had been people shooting at Kuroba before Saguru had even left England. "What do they want?"

Reed took his time answering, as if deciding how much was acceptable to say. "The same thing Kid wants."

"So he's in their way," Saguru muttered. "And you? Why are you helping him?"

Reed laughed quietly. "What can I say? I'm a fan.~"

"There are thousands of Kid fans in Tokyo alone," Saguru deadpanned. "You don't see them out running across rooftops."

"Well, I wouldn't put it past some of them . . . probably not for the reasons you're thinking, though." Reed snickered. "I could say I'm unusually dedicated, but I think you deserve more than that. So I'll say my reasons are similar to yours."

Saguru blinked. His reasons? He wanted to catch Kid. And . . . . "You don't want him to get hurt."

"Exactly." Reed smiled, and his voice took on a softer tone. "I'd rather not see such a bright light extinguished."

Somewhat to his surprise, Saguru found himself agreeing. He should probably examine that thought later, when he didn't have a possibly wanted criminal in his living room - which brought up another question. "In any case, Reed-san, shall I assume you are a thief as well?"

"You can call me a kaitou if you wish. I usually leave the stealing to Kid." He grinned. "And in anticipation of your next question, I help with tricks, run interference, and generally provide whatever back-up is needed." The self-proclaimed kaitou shrugged. "Sometimes that means tagging snipers, sometimes it doesn't."

"So they don't show up every time, at least."

"Only for the bigger targets."

Saguru raised an eyebrow. "Larger stones are a priority?"

Reed spread his hands, saying nothing.

The detective frowned. "Perhaps I could convince Nakamori-keibu to check the surrounding buildings before heists . . . ."

"Be careful what you say and where you say it." Reed crossed his arms. "We're pretty sure They have someone in the Force. Possibly more than one."

Saguru bit back a curse. "Why hasn't he said anything?" he demanded, clenching his fists.

"Who?"

"Kuro- Kid! Someone's after his life, and he goes dancing around skyscrapers in that damn white suit yelling 'Here I am, come get me!'"

"Exactly."

Reed's voice was so quiet he almost missed it. Saguru stared, face pale. "What?"

"That's all I can say, I'm afraid." Reed looked away. "You'll have to figure the rest out yourself."

"And in the meantime, they'll keep shooting."

"Most likely."

Saguru sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Fine then. I can at least keep watch. Or is that dangerous as well?"

Reed's jaw dropped, just a little. "I- no, that should be fine."

The detective smirked, happy to have flustered the other for a change. Reed wasn't Kid, but he was close enough that it felt like a victory.

Without warning, Reed stood, pulling something from a hidden pocket; Saguru flinched before he saw it was a pen. His guest scribbled something on a sheet of paper and thrust it at him. "Here."

Warily, Saguru took it; his eyebrows rose. A phone number . . . ?

"That's my number, by the way, not Kid's. Don't abuse it."

Saguru glanced from the paper to Reed. "And what should I do with it?"

"Text if you see something suspicious." Reed grinned and gave a two-fingered salute. "Leave the rest to me."

"Oh?" Saguru said, unimpressed. "And what if they shoot you?"

Reed laughed, pulling on his cloak. "Don't worry about me, Tantei-san. I may not be a magician, but I've still got a few tricks of my own." He swept down the hall, Saguru trailing after him. In one smooth motion Reed had pulled open the door, stepped outside, and . . . .

Saguru stared, then ran to the door. There was no sign of his erstwhile guest. There had been no smoke, no light - nothing to distract the eye. Reed had simply vanished. The detective grimaced, then looked down at the paper in his hand. A few long/short hours ago, he had left for the heist with his normal, burning determination to capture Kid. Now, he was holding the cell number of Kid's own partner, to be used in protecting the thief's life. It was almost enough to make him doubt his sanity.

Ignoring his developing headache, Saguru stepped inside and locked the door. He collapsed into a chair, took out his phone, and hit 'new contact.'