A/N: I can't seem to write KaiAo without angst. Also, I now have waaaay too many wips. Don't worry, I still plan on finishing all of them. It's just that sometimes plot bunnies attack me and then kidnap my brain. And then suddenly I'm starting another fic :P. This one is probably going to be updated soon because I had wanted to do it as a oneshot (but also I felt like breaking it up would be easier to write). So I will be writing until I finish this probably, over the weekend.

She was staring at her watch when the first gunshot had been heard from the floor above.

Her head snapped up and her brows knitted together.

Kaitou Kid never fired an actual gun. Her father was in possession of one but wouldn't pull the trigger unless there was absolutely no other choice.

Someone was screaming, and then people were rushing from the stairwells, intermingled with security and police as a second and then a third gunshot sounded. Her heart leapt to her throat. For a few moments she couldn't breathe. And then Aoko was tearing through the crowd up the stairs.

Her father was up there.

Her father was up there.

The observatory deck was shrouded in darkness, eerily silent when she emerged, slowing to a stop breathlessly at the top of the stairs.

There was no sign of her father, or any of the task force. The jewel they were supposed to be watching over sat on a pool of black velvet in its glass encasing at the center of the room, glittering a faint red in the moonlight. Unprotected or not, it had not been snatched yet, seeing there was no sign of Kaitou Kid either.

She glanced down at her watch.

8:04. Four minutes late.

An arm snaked around her waist and pulled her into the darkness. She tried to scream but then a gloved hand was being shoved into her face, muffling the sound.

"Please, Nakamori-san. You'll only endanger yourself."

She jammed an elbow into the nearest part of the figure she could reach, spinning away.

Like Aoko thought, it was him.

Who else could it be?

"Where's my father?"

"Safe," said the man she hated the most, not at all affected by her stunt, not even a little out of breath. "I can promise you that everyone you care about is safe. So please," he wore his signature smirk, but the tone of Kaitou Kid's voice was serious, urgent. "Go back downstairs."

She hated it. The way the color of his suit made it seem like he was glowing under the dim rays of moonlight. The disguised, lilting voice. The nonchalance on his face. The mocking politeness. She hated every phony fiber of the man that stood before her.

"Why should I trust you?" Hot anger rose up in her, and she demanded in a harsh whisper. He thought she was just going to let him escape, just like that? "What do you know about what I care about anyway? You don't know anything about me, and you never can because you're just a dishonest filthy thief-"

"Aoko," he cut her off.

The tirade of insults still bubbled in her, and she should be angry, because he didn't know her, didn't deserve the right, because he was the reason she grew up without a father, the reason she was here, now, all alone.

But there was something so familiar about that voice, about those glittering blue eyes, even hidden behind the monocle, about the way he said "Aoko" without any honorific.

It hurt. A deep ache in a part of her that she couldn't quite name. And it stole her breath away.

"Please."

She came to realize the truth. It wasn't mockery at all.

Kid's gaze flickered to the space behind her and he lunged forward to grab her wrist, tugging her toward him. She felt more than heard the metallic twang by her ear, knew more than saw that there was a bullet hole in the wall where her head had been. Sparks fell into her face and she gasped instead of screamed.

It was a plea.

"We found him," Someone in the dark uttered calmly into what might have been a transmitter of some kind. "There's a girl-yes, we'll take care of it."

"Hold on," Kid clenched his jaw. Something exploded at their feet and a cloud of white smoke enveloped them .For a moment she reached into the haze, searching blindly. And then her fingers closed around his wrist, tighter than any handcuff ever had.

He pulled her into a run.

Another bullet whizzed past her cheek, grazed the top of her ear.

The smoke was clearing too soon and the man in black was hot on their heels.

Kid cursed, and pulled. She stumbled into him with a gasp, hands curling into his lapels even as he put his arms protectively around her.

The third shot was fired. Aoko might have screamed.

He jerked forward with a grunt, knocking into her. In the dim light she could see him release a long, shaking breath through gritted teeth.

Silence. The click click of an empty cartridge.

One two three. Four five six. Empty. Of course.

Aoko stood in a daze.

And then: "Is that all you can do?" A smirk tugged at his lips as he turned his head away from her. His voice was cold, so cold, colder than she'd ever heard it before.

Her grip tightened reflexively, and she shivered.

"Trust me," his voice caught and choked, breath warm on her cheek.

Although she didn't exactly like it, Aoko found it hard not to trust a man who'd put himself between her and the path of a bullet. She pried her fingers away.

He turned with amazing velocity considering just moments ago he'd been shot, and she didn't quite catch what happened, exactly, but then there was the sound of another gun being fired-and the man in black on the other end of the hall dropped the weapon he had been holding with a curse of pain. An ace of spades, corner bloodied, slid to a slow stop on the floor.

He threw another smoke bomb just as the man in black had given up on reloading and pulled out another gun.

"Run."

She ran.

He fired a few more shots and cards spun through the air. When the smoke cleared again though, both the girl and Kaitou Kid was gone. The trail of blood ended where the smoke bomb had exploded.

The man in black cursed out loud.

Inside his shirt pocket, the transmitter crackled to life.

"Yes, boss. No, boss. They have to be here somewhere. Yes. I'll take care of it." With a smirk, the man in black turned abruptly, switching channels on the transmitter. Barking orders into it, he ordered the rest of his men to seal off the top floor.

The footsteps grew more and more distant. The ding of an elevator could be heard. Doors slid open. Doors slid closed. The elevator whizzed as it made its way down.

In the supply closet, locked from the inside, the girl, pressed against the boy, released the breath she hadn't known she had been holding.