Scarborough Fair

Summary: Kuroba Kaito finds himself in a sticky situation when he's kidnapped by a man who's also guilty for the abduction of three others. How can even the Kaitou Kid escape drug-induced paralysis, a psychotic doctor, a blackmailed housekeeper, and a mansion filled with traps and dungeons?

Pairings: Very minor hints.

A/N: I own nothing except Dr. Hailey, Anita Hailey (though I don't own their names), Kojima Daisuke, Diana (though I don't own their designs) and 'A'. Okita Soshi and Nagashima Shigeo are actual DC people. Think Yaiba and Yoban Saado. Title comes from Simon and Garkunkel song. Also loosely based around Mothy's song, 'Little Garden Girl' feat. Hatsune Miku. May be called alternate name of 'Clockwork Lullaby 2'.

Prequel(s): "Swing Low, Sweet Chariot"

Aside from an incident where he accidently broke the school guard's bottle of beer and had to hide in a cardboard box a puppy would have had troubles getting into, Kaito got through his school break-in relatively quickly and painlessly. And they said the path of crime didn't pay.

He made a face as he dialled in Akako's house phone number. At least, the path of a Phantom Thief paid off sometimes. But those goons with Snake. . . they were the ones that were going to pay. Until then. . . .

"Kuroba-kun, just ask for my number next time instead of breaking into the school."

Kaito didn't bother asking the witch just how she had known it was him, or how she had known that he broke into the school to get her number. "Hey, Akako, change of plans. My mom's coming home in-"

"About eleven hours and thirty-five minutes, maybe?" her voice sounded amused. "I am aware of that."

He shook his head. Hakuba and she would be good for each other. One obsessive with the time, the other able to see what time held in store for them. A real power couple. "You couldn't tell me about this before?"

"That would have been robbing your mother of her joy when she told you the happy news. I am a witch, not a thief."

Kuroba Kaito did not know about the time when Akako had dressed as Kid to throw suspicion off him, and therefore could not remind the witch that there had been a time when she had taken the world's largest pink sapphire. Unless he was willing to admit to her that she had been right the entire time about him being Kid.

Yeah, right. "Right. Anyways, she'll be safe, right?"

"Of course she will. Are you calling me an amateur?" she sounded offended.

"No, just making sure. Thanks, Akako."

"You're welcome, Kuroba-kun. And be careful. I can't see anything about this kidnapper, and Lucifer won't tell me anything."

"Your sources scare me sometimes," he said before hanging up. "Nngh!"

The plastic cell phone fell on the pavement, followed shortly after by his limp body.

Behind him, a black-clothed figure stood with the sparking stun gun in their hand. The other hand held a cloth with chloroform, which the assaulter draped over the unconscious teen's mouth and nose before hefting him onto a hidden cart, the kind from a supermarket.

Chikage gripped her seat rest. One minute, she had been listening to music and enjoying the many services brought by a first class ticket, and the next, she was trying to stop herself from ripping open the plane doors and diving down.

Of course, the only reasons for that was because one, she would have died very, very messily, and two, she was still only above North America, making her dive not only pointless, but time consuming.

She just knew the reason for this. . . this feeling was Kaito. It had to be, this heart-wrenching, gut-tearing, nerve-wrecking reaction was the same one she had given right before Toichi's stage had blown up at his last performance. His body had been so burnt. . . . The only way they had been able to identify the body had been through dental records.

Despite the impossibility of a magic accident of that magnitude – in her husband's show, anyways – the police had been quick to close the investigation after declaring it an accident. Too quick.

Chikage grabbed the phone provided by the airline – she wasn't sure which one it was, but she had to admit that they knew how to treat their customers – and punched in Kaito's phone number, getting it wrong twice. They were probably charging her for every time she had to hang up and redial, but her friend owed her quite a lot. Actually, with the new revelations she had gotten from that recent meeting in Chicago, her friend owed her more than the total debt of the United States.

When she finally did get the right number, each dial tone felt like a death sentence being handed to her son. The terror in her heart got even worse when a recorded voice came up, cheerfully telling her to leave a message.

All she could think was that They had found him. Found him, and either killed him, or carted him off to torture for information he may not even have.

Chikage began to dial another number, and drummed her fingers impatiently as she waited for the person on the other end to pick up.

"Hello?"

"It's me," she said into the phone, knowing her friend would recognize her voice. They had just spoken last night. "Kaito's not answering his phone."

The woman on the other hand paused. "Are you sure he's not just sleeping? It's night here."

"He wouldn't do that!" she forced herself to lower her voice when the other passengers sent annoyed glances at her. "His friends told him to answer his phone because of that kidnapper going around. Didn't you say that you were assigned to Ekoda?"

"Kidnapper?" her friend's voice was alarmed. "Chikage-sensei, I didn't monitor any movements from Them. What if he's been kidnapped by the guy instead?"

Okay. So there was a chance that her husband's enemies hadn't gotten their hands onto her son yet. Great. But Kaito still wasn't answering his phone. "Check on him anyways, please," she begged. "And. . . ."

"And?"

"If he's not there," she took a deep breath. She knew how to face reality, knew the harsh truth had to be acknowledged. "Lock the door."

The woman on the other end got the message. "He'll be fine, sensei," she said, trying to be optimistic. How time changed things. . . . "He's your son, isn't he?"

Yes, Kaito is my son, she thought grimly as she put the phone back. And he inherited my ability to attract trouble.

11:58 PM

To: Boss (Private Number)

Boss! rgnt matter! KK kidnapped, CK asking 4 help! Prmssn 2 go? – A

11:58 PM

To: A (Private Number)

Go.

". . .hey."

What? Kaito wanted to groan in pain, but his tongue felt heavy, and he had trouble getting air through his vocal chords.

"Hey. Dude, you up?"

Ah, there it went! "Nngh. . . ."

"He's up," another voice muttered in a Kansai dialect. "And 'bout time, too."

Kaito lifted the heaviest thing in the world; his eyelids. At first, he shut his eyes almost instantly, but slowly, he managed to coax them back up.

He was met with the sight of three other teenage boys around his age, all slumped around the concrete room that could only be described as a cell. ". . . If it weren't for the pain, I would think this is all a dream," he commented.

"I wish," the first guy snorted. He had black hair in tall spikes, but other than the slight hairstyle difference and the sneering expression, they could have been identical twins. The same applied for the other two.

"Where am I?"

"In hell."

The guy who hadn't spoken yet sent a glare to the sarcastic guy. "We don't know," he answered instead.

Kaito looked around a bit more closely. There were no windows, but there were vents that would barely let his hand pass on the ceiling, exchanging the air in the room. The walls looked like pretty solid concrete.

One of the two doors in the room was normal. Wood, painted white, the kind anyone would see in a modern western house.

"That's th' bathroom," the teen with the short ponytail and Osakan accent nodded towards the door.

Which meant that the other door. . .

Kaito turned, and was met with what looked like the inner side of a vault door. There was a small slot near the bottom for food trays and such, but other than that, it was impossible to open it from within, even with the right tools.

"What is this?" he demanded. Judging from how these guys all looked like him, Kaito was willing to bet that him being here was due to the kidnapper, and not the organization after Pandora. Looked like Aoko, Akako, and Hakuba had been right.

Damn. They would never let this one go. The rest of his high school life – and possible the rest of his life in general – would be filled with torment from these three.

"No one knows," the friendlier guy without the accent extended a hand. "Nagashima Shigeo. Baseball player."

He took the hand and shook it. Nagashima seemed like a nice guy. "Kuroba Kaito. Magician. Nice name."

"Thanks," he grinned. "But I'm not the only one named after a baseball star."

Kaito looked at the other two. The names of the victims Hakuba had given him had only one name that had belonged to a famous baseball player.

"Not them, though Okita comes close."

The Osakan guy got off his feet, yawning. "Okita Soshi."

"I see what you were talking about," he commented dryly as he shook hands again. "So you're the swordsman here?"

"Mm," he sat down again. "'Cept there are no swords here. If Hattori beats me at th' next tournament, I swear I'll kill that bastard for gettin' me out o' practice."

"You'll have to wait in line," the last guy didn't come over for a handshake. "Name's Kojima Daisuke."

"By bastard," Kaito started, sitting back down. "I assume you mean the guy who brought you all here?"

Their expressions all darkened. "Ya'll see him soon enough, so here's a tip. Don't say anythin' 'bout his 'daughter'," Okita warned, putting air quotes around the word 'daughter'.

"Why the emphasis on daughter?"

"Because the man is a psychopath!" Kojima snapped. "He's got this stupid mannequin and he puts makeup on its face and he dresses it up and he pretends it's a living, breathing chick that happens to be his kid!"

"Just play along," Nagashima said. "Pretend it's a real person when the time comes."

All three of them glanced up at the ceiling and shuddered.

His daughter, his wonderful, wonderful daughter. . . .

He pulled on his gloves and gently stroked her hair. "Sorry, baby girl," he crooned. "But Anita, daddy has terrible hands. We can't have your pretty face marred because of some idiot who's always stuck in labs, can we now?"

His daughter was so kind, just smiling back at him with kind understanding in her eyes. . . he didn't deserve her. Didn't deserve the angel who had gotten herself trapped in the wheelchair, unable to move her legs.

But without Anita, his life would be so much bleaker, like the times when. . . the times when. . . .

"Doctor!"

He turned around. "Diana-san!" he smiled. His housekeeper. His reliable housekeeper. She cared for Anita, too. Cared enough to help him find the best boys possible. Though, there was this one bad one in the lot. Huh.

"Doctor, your hands!" within moments, she was there, pulling his hands off from the scissors he'd been gripping.

Funny. There was blood, and it was his hands bleeding, but he hadn't felt pain. He knew pain, he did, he knew that. He felt pain back when. . . when. . . .

Oh, dear. He couldn't remember, and now he had gotten blood on the ribbons that made Anita look like such a cute doll. Reddish-brown on sapphire blue didn't fit at all. "Sorry, Anita," he said before wrapping his hand up with the bottom of his coat. "Diana-san, would you make sure those are fixed?"

His housekeeper nodded. Such a nice woman. She had a child of her own, and a husband, too, but he had managed to convince her that his family of two needed her more than her own did.

What had he said to convince her again? He couldn't remember. He couldn't really remember much, nowadays, except for the formulas and the drugs and Anita. Always Anita. Oh, and Diana-san, too. Such a godsend, the both of them. How would he cope without his daughter and his faithful housekeeper?

Diana-san finished wrapping his hand up. Efficient person, she was. Always had her first aid kit and the sewing kit with her. Ready for everything. He couldn't let her go. He couldn't work without her! Anita needed her too. They needed her for nearly everything. Diana-san was just that dependable.

"Anita, daddy hopes you like the boys he picked out for you," he smiled at his daughter. "Such a shy lady! You must talk to the boys, at least, I insist. Diana-san, it's good for children to be around their own age groups, right?"

The woman nodded, and continued to sew. Right. The latest addition. He needed decent clothes before being in his daughter's presence. "Well, Anita, there's a new boy, so you'll have to wait a bit before meeting your friends again. Just tell daddy if anything happens, alright?"

He sighed, and pulled back. He hadn't been a very good father to Anita, and he'd really have liked to spend more time with her. Still, she wanted her legs back, and all he needed to do for her to regain use of her legs again was to finish developing those three drugs. He'd already invented ten new ones while working on the three, but those weren't the ones he needed. As soon as he was done, they could go outside together, and Anita could see the beautiful parts of the world on her own two legs.

"Daddy will finish the miracle drugs for you," he whispered before closing the door.