OMAKE ALERT

"Tadaima!" Conan called out as he opened the door to the detective agency... and almost ran into his father.

Except Kudo Yuusaku didn't — usually, at least — grin like a crazed maniac, nor drink hot chocolate rich enough that Conan felt his teeth ache just from looking at the takeaway cup three inches from his face.

"Okaeri, Conan-kun!" came Ran's voice before Conan could decide on anything beyond the fact that he was going to murder the Kaitou Kid slowly and painfully, any previous goodwill be damned. "Do you want to stay with Shinichi's dad over the weekend? He can take you to that Holmes convention in Ekoda, I know you've been eyeing the advertisements for the past month — "

And before he knew it, Conan was being herded out the door with a packed bag of clothes while still glaring daggers and various other sharp, injurious implements at Kuroba, who (Conan felt some sense of accomplishment at this) was finally wilting slightly under his unrelenting stare.

"What do you think you're doing, Kuroba?" he hissed as soon as they reached the street.

"What was it that I sent Kudo-san? Oh, yes." Kuroba's voice dropped a register to one familiar from numerous heists. "In need of a detective on short notice. Price negotiable. Awaiting your reply, 1412, smiley face, et cetera."

Conan felt his blood pressure inch up. "I — you — what?"

"You know, your father checks his fan mail far too often. I didn't expect him to reply so quickly," Kuroba continued, completely ignoring Conan's indignant spluttering. "Anyway, we agreed on a full week in exchange for getting his publishers off his tail for a month, so I should have five days left if I return you on Sunday afternoon. He pushes a hard bargain, doesn't he?"

"You... you sent a heist note to my father? And he agreed?" Conan didn't know which to feel more disturbed by — but it didn't matter, because after he'd disposed of Kuroba's body he was going to hunt down his father next. And possibly his mother too, because he was willing to bet his Holmes collection that she was somehow involved in this as well, because his parents were both stupid morons, ugh.

"Don't be such a grouch, tantei-kun! Here, I even brought you something." One relatively discreet, caffeine-scented puff of smoke later, another takeaway cup appeared (freshly brewed black coffee, not the ridiculously milky concoction which was all Ran would allow him to have when she was watching) and Kuroba looked like himself again.

Conan eyed the cup dubiously for a minute before giving in and taking it from the grinning magician. "You better not have been lying about that Holmes convention. And please don't tell me you plan to steal something there."

"From a Holmes convention? Your low opinion of my standards wounds me greatly, tantei-kun," Kuroba said with an exaggerated, Ayumi-level pout, which made Conan extremely glad that he had ditched the disguise because there were just some mental images he really did not need to have. "Besides, you should be flattered. It's not every gem that gets attention from Kid himself, you know."

"Attention, yeah," Conan muttered darkly between sips of coffee, because he'd eat his dart watch before admitting that it was the most heavenly thing he'd tasted for longer than he cared to remember. "I'd say your head needs attention from a shrink all right."

Kuroba's laughter could be heard a block away.