We're meeting Ran at the café to get our share of cookies since she'd already given the kids theirs.

I tried to decline. But Haibara already declined so many times, and, well, you can't just say no to Ran. After Haibara made me promise that I'd buy her another purse – seriously, that woman – we find ourselves in this café.

I order our usual coffee. "Seriously, I never want to go through old clippings again," I gripe.

"You'll do it again," she states.

This woman. "Oi, let me complain a little, will you?"

"Well, I'm just stating the truth you love so much, detective."

"Well, yeah, of course, I'd do it again–"

"As I said,"

"–if needed. If needed, okay? As a last resort."

"Okay, but count me out."

"Oi."

The cups of coffee are served, and she pulls the cup to her face, as she always does, and takes a whiff of the drink. She takes a sip, and her face relaxes. Really, this woman and her coffee.

I drink mine as well, though, after checking the time, I figure I need to drink the entire cup soon so Ran doesn't lecture me about the effect of coffee on kids again.

As soon as I finish my cup and the waiter takes it away, I spot Ran. She comes into the café and walks over to us as I wave to her. Haibara puts her cup down and gives a slight wave as well.

"Conan-kun, Ai-chan! It's been a while! Conan-kun, here's yours!" Ran is all smiles as she hands me a pack of cookies and proceeds to sit down at the couch across us.

A waiter comes and takes our orders. "A parfait for me and," Ran pauses to look at us, "what would you like, Conan-kun, Ai-chan?"

"I'm fine with this cup, thanks, Ran-san."

"I'll have this large sundae!"

Haibara snickers, and I whisper, "Woman, it's 'cause she'll make a fuss when she spots both of us having coffee, duh."

"Right," the infuriating woman snickers again.

The waiter leaves after taking our order, and Ran makes herself comfortable by placing her handbag on the seat and shuffling off her jacket.

The float and parfait comes suspiciously fast – perhaps this was meant for a different table? – but we take it anyway, and I start digging in.

Before she starts on her float though, Ran takes out another pack of cookies, this time with a red ribbon. "Ai-chan, this is yours," she smiles, and proudly adds, "I used a low-fat recipe for this batch!" She winks. Women.

"Thank you, Ran-san," Haibara can actually pass as a kid this time, with wide appreciative eyes looking up at Ran's, her face showing surprise and joy at the same time. It's been a few weeks since she had that look, – the day we celebrated Haibara Ai's birthday – and both the professor and I agreed not to tell her she looks absolutely like a kid when she does have it.

Ran then asks, "How's everything?"

I relate what's been happening at school, with the kids, with the professor, and our camping trips. Then, of course, our cases.

Ran's smile falters a little, and I regret starting to tell our cases. I can't meet her eyes, not when she's still holding out a small hope for the lost Kudo Shinichi. Despite everything, and because of everything, I don't want her hurt more than what I've already done.

As I finish up on the third case, Haibara stands and starts, "I–"

I look at her questioningly, but she continues, "–I have to go. Thanks again, Ran-san. I'll have to get the recipe some time soon," she looks at Ran, no, at Ran's general direction.

"I forgot to buy spring onions for tonight's dinner," she explains, to me, I'd like to think, but she has her back turned to me as she moves away from the couch and our table. Flipping her hand in her usual wave, I manage to catch a, "Later," from her.

She's running away. Again. This woman and her self-blame, honestly, I told her – and even bribed her! – to come with me today because the café we're going to actually has good coffee, and she walks out on me? And I told her I'm fine already, geez, for a genius, what an idiot.

Ran must have seen me seething, because she prompts, "Conan-kun? Is something wrong with Ai-chan leaving?"

"Oh, no, nothing, just that, she probably doesn't have an umbrella, and, well… I'm sorry," I babble sheepishly.

"I understand," Ran sympathizes, "you should go after her, we can catch up some other time."

"Thanks! I'll leave some bills here, mail me if it's short and I'll pay you back," I say as I hurriedly place some bills, wriggling between the couch and table to stand.

"Oh, and, of course, mail me when we should meet again, Ran-nee-chan!" I smile and wave as I turn towards the door, to chase that annoying woman going to who-knows-where buying spring onions when we're having pizza for dinner. And just when we finally convinced her to let us eat delivery food for once!

I walk out of the café.

I can't see her anywhere.

"Haibara!"

I turn left and right, but I can't see her anywhere. She's probably just past the other street already. I try to call her phone.

"Haibara!"

I can't see her anywhere. Her phone's ringing.

"Haibara!"

I cross the street. She isn't answering.

"Haibara!"

I walk past the shops, and finally, finally see a tuft of strawberry blonde hair. It's her.

It's her.

I disconnect the call.

"Oi, Haibara!"

She continues walking.

"Oiiiii!"

She's still walking. Geez, this woman can't be any more trouble, can't she?

"Oi!"

Is she enjoying this?

"Oi!"

Yep, I'm sure she's enjoying this.

"Oi!"

She stops. Finally catching up to her, I tell her, "Haibara, you didn't answer my call."

"Yep," she states in a flat tone, not even turning to face me.

"I bet you heard me calling you from the other street."

"Yep."

"And it took me, what, nine times calling out to you, practically shouting, for you to stop?"

"For me to get annoyed so much that I'd stop? Yep."

"Really."

"Yep."

I am not amused, woman. I resist the urge to bring up her spring onion excuse lest she revoke the pizza deal and make something out of spring onions out of spite. Moving my gaze to instead look at whatever this annoying woman is staring at instead of properly talking to me, I spot a television and– "Oh shoot, the match!"

I grab her by the wrist, "Let's go! It starts in 20 minutes," Her eyes widen more than usual almost imperceptibly, but of course I notice, her lips settling to a slight frown. I continue walking, and she follows in a pace a little bit slower than mine, "we can still make it if we run!"

Her frown deepens, and my irritation melts into amusement – does this woman hate exercise that much?

Speeding up, I tug her arm, chuckling, "We're gonna miss it, slowpoke!"

She closes her eyes and sighs in exasperation, but – she's smiling! – her lips settle in a serene curve – ah, she's smiling.

We're going home.