I've always imagined what it would look like if different people figured out/knew about Conan's identity. So here are my drabbles of how those situations would be like.

Doesn't follow timeline 100%, don't nag me about that, please! Drabbles will be anytime in the timeline so.

Also, I love reviews! So drop a hi!

Don't count on consistent updates! I'm doing this as a creative vent. Because I just really want to write something sometimes. I know I'm weird.

First one: my take on how Takagi figured Conan out.

Takagi always felt something was off with the little boy he consistently ran into during crime scenes. How the childish look in his eyes would vanish as he walking around the area. How a deep contemplating look would cross his face when something struck him odd.

Especially the bomb on the elevator. Ever since he's been wary of the child.

It didn't really click until he specific watch him talk to the other kids. How mature he was. How undeniable smart he was. How...unnatural he was.

"Don't worry, it'll be easy," Conan had told the others, "Just transfer each letter to a hirigana then reverse it."

"But!" Mitsuhiko exclaimed.

"It's the English alphabet order cut in half and reversed. It's a simple code. But..." Conan paused.

Takagi saw the expression again. The expression that shouldn't belong on a child's face.

"It's too perfect?" Haibara asked.

"No, something just doesn't add up," Conan grumbled.

Takagi walked over to them, "Oi, you guys, this is a crime scene you shouldn't be here, you know?"

The other kids quickly stuttered out an apology and ran off, not wanting to get into trouble with the officer. Only Conan and Haibara remained and watched the kids flee with a slightly irked expression.

"Conan-kun, Ai-chan," Takagi said in a warning tone. Conan whirled around with an exaggerated sheepish head scratch. Haibara passed a glance at Takagi before shrugging and sauntering off.

"Gomen, Takagi-keiji!" Conan apologized, losing that edge in his voice that was there when he was giving directions to the detective boys. Conan began walking away.

Takagi paused, "Wait, Conan-kun!"

The boy paused, "Hm?"

"I-" Takagi paused, unsure exactly what he wanted to ask, "I have a question."

"Hai? Takagi-keiji?"

"This sounds really silly, but...are you really a kid?" As he asked his question Takagi crouched down to Conan's eye level.

As clumsy as Takaji seemed, he was a certified detective. Which means he isn't oblivious to body language. Which also means that he caught the minuscule flinch and panic at seemed to overtake the childish posture. His eyes seemed to flash a moment of pain and sadness, a deep longing look a child his age should never have.

"What are you talking about?" Conan laughed. But it sounded fake. Off.

Takagi chuckled, "Haha, I don't know, the case must be getting to my head." He straightened back up.

"Well, I should be going! Bye Takagi-keiji!"

"Sayonara, Conan-kun!"

The next time the thought popped back up was when he ran into Conan cornering a suspect by himself. The boy spoke without that weird childish edge, he spoke like...like a detective. Like an adult who has seen death many times.

"You were the one that planted to cyanide into Kirawa-san's cup, but you know he didn't like cold drinks, he would wait for the soda to turned to room temperature. By that time you have already run off to the karaoke place you and your friends were planning to meet at. Calculating the time it would be served, the time he would wait, you could offset the time of death by half an hour to a full hour, crafting a perfect alibi," Conan paused to look at his victim, "Ne, Siruta-san?"

"No!"

"The reason you murdered Kirawa-san was that he refused to help donate to fund your daughter's surgery, right? And after you begged money out of him you, he put you into immense debt. Fueled by the pain of your daughter's failed surgery, the impending thought of debt and your recent divorce with your wife, you decided to murder Kirawa-san."

"How-how did you know about my wife?"

"Your wedding ring. It's obvious you've been married a while. Judging by the marks it left on your skin you've never really taken it off nor messed with it. And yet, it's not on your finger. You've been rubbing your hand over the mark since I've met you. So it's obvious you've recently taken it off, as you're not used to it yet. I only naturally concluded you had- no, she had broken it off with you."

"But, you don't have any evidence."

"But we do," Conan retaliated almost immediately, "After all, traces of cyanide can most probably be found in the same pocket you keep your ring, another reason you didn't wear your ring. You used it to poison Kirawa-san's cup. How? By coating it in cyanide and freezing it in an ice cube. It was the only thing small enough to fit into a cube tray after you bent it a little you had on your person when you were preparing. You had removed your ring and stowed it away quickly only second before we arrived pretending to be the second person to the scene. At least you were smart enough to wear gloves and erase your fingerprint off you ring before you used it. But it's summer, who keeps gloves in their bag?" At this Conan pointed to the brown bag the man was holding like a shield from his words.

Conan smile childishly, although this time it had a predatory look to it, "If I'm wrong you wouldn't mind letting the police search it right?" The faux tone of innocence only sounded slighting smug and mocking to Takagi.

"No! No, you're wrong!" The man denied clutching the bag closer to his person. Takagi decided to step in now before the criminal pulled a gun out of his bag or something.

"If Conan was only making a childish deduction may I search your bag?" Takagi had asked, only partially focused on the criminal. He trusted Conan's deduction. Instead, he was more focused on Conan who had frozen like deer in headlights when he realized Takagi had listened in on his deduction.

Turns out Conan was right, and when asked he had nervously chuckled and said, "No! It was Takagi-keiji who figured it out! He was so cool!"

Takagi demanded answers and Conan finally relented.

"So let me get this straight. Some sketchy people knocked you out, forcing you to consume experimental poison which somehow shrunk you instead of killing you?"

Conan- no Kudou, Takagi reminded himself- nodded.

"And now you're using Mouri-san to possible lure these men out?"

Nod.

"But you're actually a genius highschool detective...Kudou Shinichi?"

A sigh, "Yes, an extremely simplified version, but yes."

Takagi let out a loud audible groan, "You do realize the police are here for this exact reason right? To help?"

"Well," Conan had the decency to look sheepish, "The police wasn't crossing my mind when I was trying to figure out why the heck I was six years old again. By the time I did think about it, it was too late to try and involve others."

His answer produced a prompt facepalm from the officer.

Conan sat silently as he watched Takagi mulled over the supposed genius' stupidity with handling the situations and cursing his sense of heroism and wanting to do everything by himself.

"Okay, okay," The officer sighed, "At least you've got a police on your side now, Kudou-kun, and I know I can trust you with being on murder scenes. But..."

"Still treat me like Conan in front of others, yes."

"Question, is there anyone else like you?"

"Yes, but it's their choice to tell."

"Okay. I see."

Before Takagi could ask another question Conan's phone rang.

"Moshi moshi?" Conan greeted cheerfully as if he wasn't talking about an extremely dangerous crime syndicate just minutes prior. "Ah, Ran-neechan!...Hai~! I'll be there soon!"

Takagi cast a look at the pseudo-kid, "Ran-san wants you home?"

"Yup, talk to you later Takagi-keiji!"

Well, at least he dropped the creepy child persona around him.