A Long Drop to Perdition
by Meimi

Disclaimer: I am in no way associated with Aoyama Gosho or anyone who hold rights to Detective Conan or Magic Kaito. It isn't mine, I'm just playing with it.

Hakuba Saguru's mind was rarely ever idle. He couldn't afford for it to be. The constant battle of wits he played with a certain international criminal - with a genius level of lunacy under his belt - left him with few opportunities to even contemplate the remote possibility of relaxing his guard any. Kuroba Kaito did not have an off switch. Indeed, it didn't appear as if he had any sort of switch save for a volume control - which he turned all the way up when he changed into his fugitive alias: the Kaitou Kid. Of course, Saguru had yet to come across any solid evidence to link the two together, but it was only a matter of time before he obtained something concrete. Unfortunately, it was becoming more and more likely that the evidence he so craved might turn out to be the idiot's corpse.

He did not fancy the possibility of sending Kuroba off in a body bag rather than a set of handcuffs. Why did he have to be so contrary? The bullets they kept digging out of the architecture after each and every heist in the past few months told the tale well enough. Somebody was doing a hell of a job at trying to scare him off. Couldn't he just not rise to the occasion for once? Getting shot at was on an entirely different level than someone just using his name to commit a crime. Why couldn't he see that? It was obvious that the sniper had been missing on purpose, but that wouldn't last forever.

In fact, he'd be willing to bet that the stakes of that deadly game had probably been upped the night before. Saguru was fairly positive that someone had been shot, and he very much doubted that it had been a certain thief who'd been the one on the receiving end of the bullet. That would be too easy. No, the sniper - assuming it was just one - wanted something else first before they got around to bumping off their original target. What that thing might be, Saguru had absolutely no idea. Which didn't help much, but he'd worked on - and solved - cases before with fewer clues than this.

There were many, many problems with the recent state of affairs, very worrisome problems; and the identity of the person who had been the most probable victim didn't help one little bit. Saguru didn't like Kudo Shinichi. And his dislike hadn't come about because of any fault on his fellow detective's part. Kudo was arrogant - hell, they all were to some degree -, but he was a pretty nice guy for all intent and purpose. It's just that he looked too damned much like Kuroba for Saguru to ever be comfortable around him. The uncanny resemblance was just too creepy. And it sure as hell didn't help that the guy was hiding something either. That much was blatantly obvious, but no one seemed inclined to call him on it. And thanks to that palpable sense of something not quite right, Saguru had ended up half suspecting Kudo of being Kuroba for the better half of the night. It had gotten to the point where he'd been so distracted by keeping an eye on the other detective that the thief's actual arrival had almost been something of a shock.

But for all that he didn't like Kudo, he liked the idea of the guy getting shot at a Kaitou Kid heist even less. Why him and why now? There were far more appealing targets to aim at if the goal was to get at the phantom thief. Himself and Nakamori being at the top of the list, but that was fine with him. He'd much rather it be he who was being shot at than someone else in the Task Force; and he was quite certain that the Inspector shared in that sentiment. But no, it had been Kudo. Why?

There were a few possibilities that he'd managed to come up with, and all of them were bad. There was the possibility that one of Kudo's secrets had followed him to the heist and decided it was the perfect opportunity for a little friendly murder, but Saguru didn't think that was it. According to Inspector Megure it had been pure chance that he'd spotted Kudo on him way to the heist. The sniper was a professional - that much was clear; and Saguru highly doubted that they'd set up an assassination like that on the spur of the moment. There were always channels that high level criminals had to go through for such things, and getting through them took time. Of course, he couldn't rule that possibility out entirely, but still, it didn't seem likely.

One of the other possibilities, unfortunately, was a lot more damning. Kudo looked far too much like Kuroba for anyone who knew the latter to be able to miss. There was always the slim chance that he'd been shot because of that uncanny resemblance. And that would be a huge problem. If it had been because of that reason, then the sniper somehow knew that the Kurobas were associated with the Kaitou Kid in some way or another. And it wouldn't take a giant leap in logic to ascertain the actual identity of the thief if they knew that much. The ramifications of something like that occurring were so far beyond the realm of things he liked to ponder over as to be in an entirely different universe altogether. And that was-

That was not Kudo.

Saguru watched curiously as his "fellow detective" slowly made his way through one cluster of worried Task Force members after another. Their concerns were to be expected, "Kudo" looked like shit. One side of his face was nice and torn up, and Saguru doubted that it was fake. For one thing, Kuroba just wasn't the kind of person to make a play like that unless he not only thought that he could get away with it, but that it was also in his best interest to do so. For another thing, he was much paler than he had any business being, which suggested further injuries that were hidden from view. Interesting. It did confirm one of his theories though: Kudo had been injured the night before, and rather badly if this little act was any indication.

Oh, the disguise was perfect. In fact, Saguru would go so far as to say that it was only one point shy of being flawless. The look, the stance, the behavior, the voice, it all matched to what he knew and what he had seen of Kudo Shinichi the night before. There was just one little problem. The sense of wariness around him was different. Oh, Kuroba and Kudo did share that in common. They were both wary, almost to the point of being labelled as paranoid at times; but they weren't the same. That unmistakable sense of being hunted was similar, but there was a distinct difference between the fear of being caught and the fear of being killed. Saguru had enough experience to recognize that difference; and Kudo Shinichi fell squarely into the latter. Whatever it was that Kudo was hiding from, the fear of it was with him every second of every day. It marked him in a way that even a master of disguise like Kuroba would have severe difficulty in imitating.

Saguru smiled politely as Inspector Nakamori shot him an irritated glance before entering the fray. Well, at the very least, Kudo's version of events ought to be entertaining. And watching Nakamori rant at a disguised Kaitou Kid was always a bonus.

"And that's why you should leave these things to the professionals."

Kaito nodded in mock agreement at the "you'd better damn well listen to your elders for once in your life, you cocky brat" sort of look Nakamori was giving him. He'd pasted on an apologetic smile right around the time the Inspector's rant had cranked into full gear, though he was starting to feel rather tired - not to mention that horrible ache in his side was beginning to flare up again. So he'd just let his weariness slowly leak through his "disguise" as the minutes ticked by. And thankfully, that little tactic had worked like a charm. Hooray for injuries. Nakamori hadn't gotten anywhere near as loud as he usually did whenever he yelled at Hakuba about something Kid related, and he sure as hell hadn't gone on as long as he usually did when anything even remotely impinged upon his chosen territory.

One of these days he was going to have to convince Nakamori that his nightlife as the Kid did not solely belong to one very loud police inspector; and make pigs fly while he was at it - under their own power and with no traceable tricks involved. The latter would probably be a much easier endeavor to accomplish.

"Well, anyway." Nakamori cleared his throat, gave "Kudo" a very obvious once over and then gruffly barked, "You look like shit, kid. Get out of here already."

Kaito hauled himself up out of the chair he'd been unceremoniously deposited in, gave Nakamori a brief nod of farewell - he didn't think he could manage a bow -, murmured something along the lines of "Of course, Inspector. Have a good day." and turned to start making his way out, only to be brought up short by Hakuba. What did he want?

Hakuba smiled pleasantly at him. The expression made Kaito's nerves start twitching. This couldn't be good. "Do you think you could spare a moment before you leave, Kudo? I'd like to talk with you about something. It shouldn't take long."

Oh no, that wasn't good at all. "Certainly," he muttered in agreement, shuffling along tiredly behind Hakuba as the blonde detective began to lead Kaito over towards another desk. Ah, that's right. Hakuba had somehow or other earned himself his very own desk amongst the Task Force. Kaito could easily imagine just how beside himself Nakamori had been at the time. He really didn't like interlopers, and it would take a lot more for Hakuba to earn any other sort of distinction in the dear Inspector's eyes.

Still, that wasn't the most interesting - or amusing - subject to think about at the moment. Hakuba was walking sort of funny. His trousers weren't anywhere near being the definition of tight, yet he was very carefully watching his stride as if they were. And since Kaito pretty much knew why Hakuba was being so careful with his steps - and was, in fact, the cause of it -, it just wouldn't be right to not bring attention to it. "Hmm. Hakuba?" Kudo began carefully, "Would it be considered rude of me to inquire as to why you are walking with such an odd limp?"

Hakuba froze for a moment, then tossed an irate glare over his shoulder before continuing on his way. "Yes. Yes it would."

Kaito waited until they had nearly reached the detective's desk before breaking the silence once again. "So why are walking funny?" His disguise of choice would be polite about it, but even Shinichi's curiosity would have run its course by then.

Hakuba sighed heavily in what sounded like pure resignation as he dropped down into his chair. "Removing fly paper from certain extremities isn't exactly a pleasant experience," he explained dryly as he gave Kudo a thoroughly disgusted look.

Kaito winced in well crafted sympathy. Shinichi wouldn't laugh his ass off at a fellow detective's... difficulties, not unless he knew them pretty well - which would make another certain detective fair game, but sadly not this one. Pity that, it was hysterical; but then again, he'd meant it to be. "I wouldn't imagine so."

"I'm sure you wouldn't," Hakuba grumbled snidely under his breath. He just sat there for a few moments watching Kaito with hooded eyes, then shook his head - as if deciding against something - and started absently shuffling the papers stacked neatly across his desk. "As one fellow detective to another, I'd appreciate the opportunity to the discuss certain details with you at a later date. Would a phone conversation suffice?"

Kaito blinked. What was- Oh. He bit back a groan at the accusatory glare Hakuba directed his way. The detective either suspected that he wasn't Shinichi or flat out knew that he wasn't and wanted to talk to the real thing. It figured. "That's perfectly fine with me," Kaito answered, his tone sounding as if Shinichi was curious at the oddity of the request, "Do you need my number?"

"No, that's fine. I'd rather you called me at your leisure," Hakuba said blandly as he leaned back in his chair and smiled smugly up at the fake detective. "Give it a few days. I wouldn't want to impose upon you too much after such a harrowing experience."

Kaito arched an eyebrow dubiously as Hakuba reached into one of his suit's pockets and pulled out what appeared to be a business card. Oh, that was just too much. Hakuba Saguru, mister Sherlock Holmes wannabe himself, had business cards now. My my, Kaito would definitely have to come up with something appropriately embarrassing to replace them with. Well, just as soon as it stopped feeling like he'd been hit by a truck. He did have some priorities, after all.

The first time he woke up, he couldn't rightly say that he was awake. His eyelids were too heavy to even bother with trying to open and there was this enormous appalling ache where his forehead ought to be. Something told him that he really didn't want to know just exactly why it had been replaced with something that dreadful - or why his shoulder had been replaced with the ache's younger brother; and then he promptly fell back asleep. Some things were just better left alone.

The second time he woke up, he still didn't feel much like being awake. Those horrible aches were still there, though there was a fuzzy quality about them that spoke of painkillers. Heavy duty ones. Couldn't he just make it through one single day without it involving pain in one form or another? Because if it wasn't his brain misgauging his body size - again -, then it was Ran's dad whacking him for doing his job, or a suspect who didn't want to go quietly, or hell, even Ran herself giving him a bonk for being overzealous. And if it wasn't any of that, then it was one of the other kids doing something that would require his sweat and blood to fix or Haibara deciding to dig her claws in deeper- Wait.

Haibara.

Oh. Oh crap! He was a dead man, assuming he wasn't well on his way to the afterlife already. She was going to kill him. No, she'd torture him first - and run up every credit card she could find with his name on it while she was at it; then she'd draw and quarter him, fry up the pieces, and feed them to Agasa and the Detective Boys. Ugh. One of these days he was going to remember just how bad his luck tended to run and leave well enough alone. And learn how to say no for once in his life. That wasn't such a hard thing to do! Just say no.

So, what had he been doing lately to make himself feel like death warmed over? Start at the beginning and work your way from there. Thanks to a little prodding from Haibara about the Apotoxin, he'd decided to stay home - or rather at Agasa's - instead of going off with Ran and her dad for their vacation. He remembered that much. And what a miserable time it had turned out to be. There were few people he would ever wish being Haibara's guinea pig on. Not many deserved a fate as nerve-wracking as that.

Still, the new temporary antidote seemed to work as prescribed. He'd been his real self for two whole days. God, that was a nice feeling. And she had said that if things kept going as well as they were she might be able to produce one that could last twice as long. And soon. That would be lovely. Of course, he'd much prefer a permanent cure, but for the time being he'd take what he could get.

Not that he was going to live long enough for her to make one. He'd just been so damned tired of being locked up in her lab for days on end while she tested stuff out and recorded his body's reactions to it all. And come on, he hadn't done anything wrong - not really. He'd just slipped out for a short walk while she was off at the grocery with Agasa. He'd been in need of fresh air and he damn well knew how to properly stay out of sight by now. It shouldn't have been a problem. He'd just forgotten about Inspector Megure's internal Kudo radar. And, of course, he had yet to learn how to say no to the man - especially not for a Kid heist. So yes, he was very much a walking corpse at this point.

Now that he thought about it, he supposed he deserved to get shot for being so ridiculously stupid. Though, he couldn't quite understand why they hadn't waited until after the heist to kill him. Assuming it had been the Black Organization to begin with. On the surface, Kaitou Kid's fun and games didn't appear to be of much interest to them, at least not so far as he could tell. Vermouth might take a shine to the lunatic. But then, she seemed to like playing with people; and the phantom thief would probably be a great toy to someone like her. The only way Gin and Vodka would be interested in the thief is if they'd been told to kill him.

It just didn't make sense to do it like that. So why had he been shot? Kid hadn't been too surprised about the bullets whizzing by, at least not until he'd been hit. Interesting. It might not have anything to do with the Black Org after all. If that were true, then he was truly void of intelligence. And also, cursed. There was no other believable explanation for the lengths his karma went to to make his life utterly miserable. It was probably his parents' fault. They had such a wonderful tendency of ticking people off with their inability to not screw around with others. And he certainly counted himself among their victims. They'd probably pissed off some vengeful spirit - or spirits - and now he was the one paying for it.

Okay, so he'd been shot. And the Kid must have caught him because he didn't feel like a pancake - though that might be an improvement. He did feel smaller though, and that was a terrifying realization. Please please let him not have shrunk back down right in front of the Task Force. But actually, now that he thought about it, he'd be dead already if that had happened. So that meant Kid must have done something. Oh god, the very thought of owing Kaitou Kid for saving his identity - again - along with his life made him wish he'd hit the ground anyway. A murderous Haibara he could deal with, but adding an international thief who liked to play psychotic pranks on top of his future execution was something else altogether.

He was doomed.

He also wasn't in a hospital. It was too quiet for it to be a hospital, but his wounds had obviously been treated so he had to be somewhere medically inclined. There was someone else in the room with him too. They were being quiet - very quiet -, but they were definitely there. Eh. So much for the idea of going back to sleep. There was always the possibility that whoever it was could tell him something positive for a change though. Maybe something along the lines of "We're so very sorry. We did everything that we could, but your wounds were too severe. You have only a few hours left." That would be nice.

Indeed, it would have been a fabulous end to a truly wretched existence, except his hopes were well and truly dashed when he finally managed to pry his eyelids open. He recognized the figure standing at the other end of the room, though he highly wished he didn't. "You bastard," Shinichi, or rather himself in Conan size, rasped out viciously. What the hell was that stupid thief playing at?

Kaito, still dressed up as his surly audience's elder self, grinned manically as he transferred his gaze from his latest acquisition over to the displeased looking detective, who was even now glaring heatedly at him. He'd completely forgotten about the sapphire until just a few minutes ago and had decided to take a little look at it. The moonlight filtering in through the window had been too good of an opportunity to pass up. Another dud, of course, but he'd been expecting that. It'd just been something to do whilst he'd been waiting for Shinichi to finish fighting his way back to the land of the living. "And a good evening to you too, sunshine," Kaito chirped back cheerfully.

"What- what-" Shinichi sputtered, then stopped and closed his eyes to gather some semblance of brain power. When he opened them again his gaze was much sharper. And with that slight heightening of perception, he saw something he had missed the first time around. "What the hell happened to you?"

Kaito blinked curiously at the look of restrained horror on Shinichi's miniature face. Well, that was different. What was- Oh, of course. Smiling sweetly, he reached up and gently tapped his fingertips against his injured cheek. "You hit a tree," he said simply by way of explanation.

"What?!" Shinichi whipped his hands up to his face, a move he instantly regretted as his shoulder immediately decided to protest such a course of action in great detail. Ow.

"Hold the hysterics, boy wonder," Kaito muttered irritably as he pocketed the gem and trotted over to the side of the bed. Trust mister great detective to hurt himself right after he'd woken up. "Your face is fine. I merely had to improvise." He smiled again brightly at the pained, disbelieving look the little detective leveled at him. "You fell off a building and then ran into a tree. No one's going to believe that you walked away from that unscathed."

"What have you done?" Shinichi ground out as he narrowed his eyes back into a suspicious glare. Kid wouldn't be disguised like that unless he'd needed it to do something. And it would, no doubt, turn out to be something that he would come to regret for a very long time afterwards. Next time, assuming there was a next time - and knowing his luck there would be -, he was going to make damned sure that he went splat on the pavement. No more daring rescues by wanted felons, thanks all the same.

"Today?" Kaito asked gaily, then raised a hand and started ticking off points. "I went home. Then I went to your house and borrowed some clothes. After that, I called your Inspector Megure and headed that manhunt off at the gate. Then I had a nice, brief chat with a creepy little acquaintance of yours. And after that, I went and gave Nakamori your statement about my heist. Then I got sidetracked by Hakuba and a nice bracing game of guess what the thief's real intentions are. And when all that was over with, I went back to your house, gathered up some more clothes, and came back here to check up on how you're doing."

Shinichi blinked blankly as his brain carefully sifted through the haphazard information. That couldn't be everything, could it? No, there had to be something else going on here. There was no way he'd believe that the Kaitou Kid would go out of his way to help him unless he had some other goal in mind. The thief would've just dropped him off at a hospital if his intentions were benign.

Kaito quirked his lips at Shinichi's confused ponderings and leaned down, absently snatching the detective's hands as they darted up to grab at his face. "Now now, you can play unmask the bandit later," he murmured patiently before letting his expression shift and then settle into something far more severe.

Shinichi blinked in surprise at the change. That was different. Why was-

"You were shot. In the head." Kaito explained flatly, his displeasure at the very concept coming through loud and clear. "You very nearly died." Frowning unhappily, he released one of Shinichi's hands and lightly trailed his fingers along the bandage wrapped around the little detective's head. "I'd appreciate it if you didn't try for a repeat performance. You might be accustomed to dealing with corpses, but I don't much care for them myself. They're awkward and they get in the way."

Shinichi opened his mouth for a moment and then shut it again. What exactly could he say in response to that? He'd been very careful at avoiding the topic of just why his head hurt so damned much. And then the thief had to go and drop that bombshell in his lap anyway. He... didn't want to think about it right now. It could wait until later, when he wasn't in the company of such an impossibly annoying individual like the Kaitou Kid. He'd give just about anything to be back home in his own bed right about now.

Kaito mentally shook his head and straightened back up. There were a lot more questions he wanted to ask, but judging by the detective's demeanor, he doubted that he'd get any workable answers tonight. Poor little Conan appeared a tad bit too shell shocked to deal with much else at the moment, and that was on top of the drawn look of thinly masked pain. Ah well, it could wait until later. It wasn't as if they were going anywhere. Yet. "Get some more sleep, Shinichi," Kaito said softly as he reached over and smoothed down the detective's unruly bangs. "The usual disasters can hold until morning."

Kaito couldn't resist an amused smirk when Shinichi failed to catch his use of names. He was very much looking forward to when he finally did. It promised to be a highly entertaining occurrence.

To Be Continued...