A/N: Co-written with mrit, who is a better person with details than I can ever hope to be, har har. It came about at a bar with some drinks and a dream we both shared…

-dramatic-

Well, Takagi needed some lovin'. So we wrote a fic about him. That's the long and short of it!

Need Not To Know

By Shimegami-chan (and mrit!)

It was a veritable sea of boxes.

They were piled floor to ceiling, many so heavy that they teetered under their own weight, swaying each time the steps of officers in the next room tread too close to their purchase on the tile. Dozens of them; all exactly alike, mottled brown and labelled distinctly in a steady hand. Names and dates were strewn about in capital letters, piles grouped together, marked Box 1 of 3 and so on. The boxes alone were enough to consume a man, he thought, and they were the easiest to sort. Names and numbers were simple things to understand, after all; unmarked evidence less so, and there was plenty of it. These were the piles of papers spread out on the desk - some stacked six inches high, and all had had the honour of once being haphazardly stored in Mouri's Cabinet, as it were so called.

The Cabinet was a necessity that had come out of Megure's growing exasperation with Mouri Kogorou. He'd often remarked about the man's unnatural aptitude to attract murderers and thieves unto his person; a tendency which had earned him the gag nickname "the angel of death" at First Division HQ. After only the barest handful of paperwork-heavy Sleeping Kogorou files, the legendary detective had earned himself his very own section of the archives - the contents of which were now spread across Patrolman Director Takagi Wataru's table, threatening to engulf the computer, the odds and ends and, if things shifted around too much, the entire tiled floor.

But there it was. Hundreds of files; hundreds of crimes set to rights by Mouri Kogorou...and entourage.

The reappearance of the files was nothing short of a miracle. They'd simply vanished out of their carefully-labelled boxes one day, and just as inexplicably arrived back in an unmarked packet. And now it had fallen to Takagi to find out why the files had disappeared, where they had gone, and who was responsible...

It was hard to say if there was anything missing. Even for the most stalwart of Mouri's supporters, remembering each and every detail of even those cases which had been publicized was extremely difficult. Re-sorting so many items that had been taken, and seeking out the missing pieces of classified files - impossible. Mouri himself remembered next to nothing about most of his own work. No matter which folder Takagi reread or which stack he sorted through, even those cases which he himself had been present for, he could not determine whether anything had been removed or modified.

He lifted two near-identical folders and took them to the table, balancing a coffee cup on top of the stack. It seemed there was no alternative but to start comparing the cases they had double copies of, just so that they could be ruled out of the investigation. Luckily for Megure, the details of Kogorou's cases that had been solved outside of Tokyo were regularly forwarded to the department, and the Okinawa, Gunma, Tottori, Osaka and Kanagawa divisions had all sent additional copies when the original files had gone missing.

Two of these files, Officer Takagi now held in his hands.

They were from a case in Okinawa many months before, overseen by officers Takagi had never met. A murder - what a surprise. The man was somewhat of a magnet for such things, wasn't he? In this particular instance, the victim's brother had plotted the murder in order to gain his brother's hoarded fortune. It was yet another of the cases that included the name of Edogawa Conan as witness, this time for the purposes of disproving the killer's alibi. His fingerprints had been missing from a sketchbook owned by the killer, a book he'd touched not too long prior to the incident, proving that a duplicate book had been used to create the trick.

Takagi continued to turn pages, skimming the newly-printed fax text to compare it to the rumpled sheets that had been crammed into the archive for so long. Mug shots, timeline, sketches, photographs, prints...

There were supposed to prints here somewhere, weren't there? Takagi had been through this folder twice already, and he distinctly remembered that in Okinawa's faxed copy, a small card of the boy's prints had been included, tucked behind the last page. He flipped to the back.

There it was - a photocopy of the card that displayed Conan's fingerprints. He rifled through the envelope of papers that had come back from the strange thief, and he thought he remembered seeing...

Here. He withdrew a small card from the mess and eyed it. Without a case number attached, it was one of several items that hadn't been re-filed just yet. They did belong to the Okinawa case, of that he was certain - they were signed, dated and perfectly matched the faxed version numbered Page 15 of 15. Takagi brought the card back to the table to file it...and stopped.

They still hadn't determined the meaning behind the theft of Mouri's information, though as he sorted through it, Takagi had seen Conan's name come up more than once. In fact, he seemed to have been involved in just about all the cases that had had their evidence stolen. Wasn't that a little suspicious?, he wondered. Perhaps there really was some other reason why the card and so much other information about Conan had been taken out. Something about the situation rankled the young officer, and he had a feeling the evidence in his hand was the reason why. Pocketing the card, Takagi locked the door of the office and walked back to his own desk, deep in thought. Perhaps it was coincidence, and didn't have anything to do with Conan at all? He was no more than a sidekick to the detective most of the time, though Takagi could tell that the boy was already giving Mouri a run for his money.

But if they were interested in the kid for some reason, then...? After all, it took a firsthand experience to really see what Conan was capable of. The details of the times when Takagi had witnessed the boy leading Mouri always seemed to be omitted from the official report. Either the officers didn't notice, or chalked it up to coincidence.

But not Takagi.

No, Takagi was certain that Mouri's protégé was nothing short of an observational genius. He couldn't get his mind off the way Conan had deactivated the bomb in the elevator of Touto Tower a few weeks back and figured out the location of the second bomb from barely half a keyword, spelled backwards. He'd asked him, that day, and for once thought he was going to get a real answer -

"Who on earth are you?"

No normal kid, that was for sure. Takagi poured himself a fresh cup of coffee and sat down to nurse it, conscious of the prints card tucked away in his breast pocket. If someone was interested in Conan, he mused, maybe it wasn't because of his intelligence at all. Maybe it was the relative or friend of a criminal Mouri had put away, looking for a target for revenge - a bargaining chip against the detective. If that was the case...

Well, it was a good thing they already had a nice clear set of prints on him. Takagi set down his mug and turned on the computer, calling up Interpol's database of digital fingerprints. Okinawa was usually good about scanning their criminals digitally, but a witnesses' data in a closed case wasn't always a priority. Entering his login and password to gain access to the secure area, the officer tried to call up Conan's record by last name, and found no data.

Unfazed, he tried various spellings of Edogawa, though as far as he'd known, the first try had been correct. Finally he sat back, frowning. It seemed like they really didn't have the kid on file - how that was possible after he'd been involved in so many of Mouri's cases, Takagi didn't know. The copies Takagi had and the original card back in Okinawa were the only ones there were.

He supposed he'd better take the prints down to Forensics and have them entered into the database. A bit unsettled by the whole situation, Takagi put the computer back into standby and tottered down the stairs to the basement level, coffee in hand. He wished there was someone around he could share his concern with, but with his partner Satou on her day off and Megure working on yet another follow-up to Mouri's missing case files, he wasn't sure who to tell. Sure, Chiba was a good listening ear most of the time, but he didn't seem to share the same high opinion of Conan that Satou and Megure did.

The forensics department, to Takagi's dismay, was deserted. It wasn't unusual for the team to be out during the afternoons, of course; when they were unoccupied in the office they tended to do backlogged fieldwork, on call. The young officer seated himself at one of the computers and logged into the network using his own information, not absolutely certain how to proceed. He'd had training in all these things, but he very rarely put the skills to use firsthand since he'd joined the homicide department.

Once the systems were up and running and he had input an image of Conan's prints into a new file, he stopped. Wouldn't it be better to run a scan first, just in case he had somehow missed the file the first time? Takagi opened up a secondary program and began a search, comparing the images he had just scanned to the millions of prints already in the system. This could take a while, the officer realized as the search initialized, wishing he'd thought to bring along the rest of the Okinawa folder to keep looking through it. Maybe I should just leave it to Forensics...

And then a window popped up.

Takagi sat up from the slouch he had just fallen into -.maybe the system had seen some upgrades since he'd gone through training! Pleasantly surprised, he took a gulp of coffee as he leaned close to look at the search results...and almost spit the mouthful all over the screen. The database had pulled up a match, but it wasn't to Edogawa Conan, elementary school student.

Kudou Shinichi.

Now that was something strange and unexpected. Didn't he remember hearing something about the kid being related to Kudou? A partial match could be attributed to latent, very incomplete prints...but the enlarged version proved to be completely clear. There were more than twelve matched points on the prints - these weren't evidence; these were prints that Kudou had obviously provided to the police himself.

Takagi tried to recall the margin for error in fingerprinting, but he didn't really seem to remember there being one. Not with twelve points.

How could they be the same? That's impossible.

But...

Takagi Wataru was now considering something he really shouldn't logically have ever had to think about. His eyes never left the oversized monitor as he glanced back and forth from the print images to the text that lay innocently alongside - date of birth. Blood type. Race. Familial information. Citizenship and natural hair and eye colour. Takagi clicked on the two profiles linked to Kudou's; undoubtedly his parents, a man named Yuusaku who looked very much like his son and a woman, oddly familiar, named Yukiko. Both their prints were also on file and Yuusaku's information was linked to dozens of specific dates and file numbers of cases everywhere from Tokyo to Rome.

Kudou Yuusaku's file was eight pages long. Takagi scrolled through it in stupefied fascination, his eyes scanning the contact information, reference numbers, and finally, on the last page, photos that had to have spanned twenty years. He was neither an officer nor a detective, but the collection of information the database had on him was so large it rivalled even Takagi's. This guy was Megure's friend, Takagi realized, remembering the long-ago conversation from when he'd first laid eyes on aspiring detective Kudou Shinichi, in a flying locked room thousands of metres above the ocean.

Fascinated, Takagi scrolled through Yuusaku's personal information. It seemed he was a mystery novelist by trade, author of the famed Night Baron novels, and resided overseas. Obviously the police kept tabs on him from time to time, or he had been involved in cases as of late, because the information was declared accurate from less than a month before. This person was certainly no stranger to their line of work. Megure said that too, didn't he...? Kudou's son had been following him around for years before showing his own deductive skills.

Again he recalled the murder on the plane to San Francisco. Kudou Shinichi had shown an awful lot of promise there, and Takagi had heard his exploits come up dozens of times since, though he rarely saw the boy in person. Two years or so ago, he'd been solving cases left and right and his name had been common office talk, especially when his work uncovered new information about previously cold cases. But even with all that potential, the famous teenager had abruptly fallen out of the public eye, and then...

And then, someone else had come into the public eye, hadn't they? Sleeping Kogorou seemed to get just as much, if not more, media coverage than the high school detective had. But Kudou had disappeared so fast and without ceremony that it certainly should have been some cause for alarm, shouldn't it? In the last two years or so, Takagi had only seen the detective in person twice, those occurrences less than a day apart...and though his name occasionally came through in the classified reports, as far as the officer knew, when he was involved in a case the details were never made public. It was as though he was in hiding or something - rumours about his death were consistently flying around the First Division, but Megure shrugged these off, saying that Kudou was merely keeping a low profile. They'd been in phone contact - in fact, Takagi himself had even spoken to Kudou on the phone once, though recalling the incident he still couldn't actually believe it had transpired or ever figured how it had come about.

He clicked through the photographs in Kudou Yuusaku's profile, which were arranged chronologically, with the earliest shots first. The author in his youth had looked much like Takagi remembered his son to be, clean-shaven and dark-haired with a knowing smirk. In later photos Yuusaku wore glasses and a well-trimmed moustache at times, and appeared occasionally beside his wife, who Takagi definitely recognized from somewhere else. He made a mental note to check her profile as well, and continued scanning through Yuusaku's pictures.

It was the last set of photos that gave him cause to really be alarmed.

The top image, medium-sized on the large computer monitor and as clear as real life, depicted Yuusaku and his wife with Conan. At first, this was not really a cause for panic until Takagi remembered what, exactly, he was supposed to be researching here. He gave the photo a second glance and abruptly his stomach filled with ice.

The image was dated almost eight years previous.

That couldn't be right, Takagi thought, glancing down at the next picture, which showed an older, wiser Yuusaku wearing a greatcoat and a deerstalker cap. This was the last page, and there were consistent images up until this point, so why would something taken ten years prior be one of the most recent pictures available? Besides, besides...was that really Conan? The oversized glasses were missing, and he looked to be slightly older than he was now. Nine years old, maybe ten, and that didn't make sense. Breath held, Takagi enlarged the image and zoomed in on the child's face.

No, that was definitely, definitely Edogawa Conan.

Abruptly Takagi kicked his wheeled chair away from the desk and lay back in it, his eyes upturned. This doesn't make any sense. They can't possibly be the same person, but the prints matched, and now the photos, and...but how? That kind of thing is impossible. This isn't a sci-fi movie! People don't...

Shrink...?

How could a person shrink? Takagi wondered if it mightn't be better to leave this case exactly as he found it and proceed immediately to the nearest psychologist. He hadn't had a vacation in years, after all. But the more he thought about it, the greater the feeling of ice in his stomach grew. The child's uncanny ability to get into situations where he wasn't supposed to be...his quick movements and thought, his incredible memory, his spot-on deductions, and most importantly the way he always knew exactly what to say. He led the police and Mouri both as though he had them on leashes - Takagi had seen it with his own eyes.

And that bomb in the elevator - Takagi had already suspected that there was something very strange about the boy, but that incident was the final straw. Conan had essentially admitted as much to him that day, only weeks ago but what seemed like months. He'd disarmed the contraption before Takagi had even read the instructions out loud. And Takagi had asked him, when he was certain they were about to die, "Who on earth are you...?"

What kind of person, was what he'd been thinking back then, and now Who, exactly? There was no way to say how or why, but all the solid evidence he had pointed squarely at the idea that Edogawa Conan was, in fact, Kudou Shinichi. Takagi felt light-headed; this wasn't the kind of thing he was willing to trust any of his co-workers enough to ask, but how could he just leave it at this? There had to be evidence somewhere. Short of asking Conan himself, of course...and what sort of conversation could that possibly be? Maybe Takagi would become a liability, and, and...

Noooo...I'm sure he wouldn't do anything drastic...

But for some reason, he had an inkling as to why (but still not how, why was there never a correct answer for how?) Kogorou Mouri had become the Sleeping Kogorou. Takagi shivered. I bet if I look up Mouri's first really public cases and compare the timeframe to Kudou's last, I really won't like what I find...

He almost didn't even want to. The truth was getting more and more frightening to believe than the lie was. Takagi withdrew his cell phone from his pocket and held it above where he had angled his face, watching it sway from the wrist strap. I could just ask...flat-out...I guess... But that didn't seem like the right way to proceed, either. He wished Satou were there, but she was such a calm, logical presence that she probably would never have entertained the idea in the first place. "They probably just mixed up the prints," she'd say with a controlled but obviously exasperated expression. "Conan's just related to the Kudous or something; it's a coincidence. Pure coincidence, unless you have more evidence..."

"More evidence," the Satou in his head suggested, and: "Probably a relation." Slowly he sat up again, the phone still dangling from its strap. One-handed, he paged back through Kudou Yuusaku's file to the current contact information, and checked the clock on the wall against the time zone chart. It was late morning in Tokyo, so it had to be early evening in California, which was the Kudous' last recorded residence. He was dialling before he had the chance to think about what he wanted to say.

If I think too much, I'll talk myself out of it, he reasoned. And then--

" Hellooo?" a woman's voice said, in English.

" Hello," Takagi stuttered back, and then asked in Japanese, "May I speak to Kudou Yuusaku-san?"

"Oh," the woman said, switching to her native tongue, "just one moment!" and laid down the phone.

At this point the young officer's polite calmness gave way to panic. What the hell am I supposed to say? Can I pretend this is official business? Do I even mention Kudou Shinichi?

A rustling noise indicated the phone in California changing hands, and then a man's voice came through, mellow and firm. "Hello?"

"Ah, hello, Kudou-san?"

"This is he."

"This is Officer Takagi calling from the Metropolitan Police Department, first division..."

Kudou was silent for a brief moment. "I see."

Takagi faltered. "Uh, ah, we were just updating our records, and..."

"Oh, of course." The novelist let out a short bark of laughter. "They've got so much on me that you'd think I was the criminal rather than the investigator. Though Megure's usually the one who calls..."

"Megure-keibu probably would usually, but you see, it's actually someone else's records I'm working on, and I thought you might be related, Edogawa Conan...?"

Another pause, short but far more pregnant. "All right, certainly, yes."

"You are, then?"

"Rather distantly." Yuusaku's end of the phone scuffled a bit. "On my wife's side of the family."

"I thought so," said Takagi, although this was a blatant lie. "He does look much like your son. What's the relation, exactly...?"

"One moment," Yuusaku said slowly, "and I'll hand you to my wife."

Another scuffle, and the woman who answered the phone returned, beaming smile evident in her voice. "Hello there, Officer!"

"Ahaha, hello, Kudou-san!" Takagi stuttered out. Kudou Yukiko sounded very young and quite friendly. "I was just speaking to your husband about Edogawa Conan..."

"Oh, Conan-chan!" she said excitedly. "How is he? Do you know him? My, it's been so long since we saw each other...!"

Takagi was taken aback at her enthusiasm, switching the phone to his other ear as he brought up Yukiko's file. Maiden name Fujimine, retired actress and idol, age thirty-seven, mother of one...there were photos enough to match the voice with a face, thankfully, and he realized abruptly that he'd seen some movie or other of hers when he was young. He was so intent that he almost forgot to answer her question. "Oh yes, he's fine, I'm just writing up some things because he's been helping the police out from time to time..."

"That's no surprise!" Yukiko said with a lilting laugh. "He certainly loves detective work. I hope he's not being trouble for you, Officer."

Motherly instinct...check, Takagi noted, frowning. "So I guess you know Conan-kun pretty well?"

"Well enough," she said, and he could sense her withdrawing slightly, watching her words. "He used to come over to play a lot...my son likes detective work too, so..."

Cover story...check, the young officer thought. So his parents are covering for him? That has to mean something...someone with close connections to the police like Kudou Yuusaku would know better than to skirt the law for no reason. There has to be something behind this...something big that would cause him to hide...

And that was what it was, he realized. Kudou Shinichi was in hiding. There was no other way to reason it. Sure, it was an unorthodox method, but no one was going to suspect it, it was so ludicrous. He was hiding from something or someone that was obviously a very big threat, to make a capable (albeit young) detective run like that. Whatever this person or people had on him, it was probably enough to make him fear for his life.

And all those records attached to "Edogawa Conan"'s profile...someone had had to put those there too. People with enough power to influence police information were covering for him. Probably his father, Takagi thought, but that's so risky...Megure would...

Very risky...which meant that the danger was just as bad or worse. Clearing his throat, Takagi tried to carry on the conversation without revealing too much about what he was thinking. "So you're related to Conan-kun, also?"

"Oh, yes," she replied confidently. "He's my grandfather's older brother's daughter's cousin's uncle's grandson."

Takagi almost asked her to repeat herself, then thought better of it. Grandfather's older...that would be a great-uncle, and daughter's...grandson's...cousin? Uncle's cousin? Is that even a relation? "I see. That is...distant."

"You see?" she said pleasantly, knowing she had stumped him. "I don't even know half the relatives we're related by. Mostly I know him from him coming over to play, so..."

"With Kudou-kun?"

"Yes."

She was confident, almost too confident, and it gave Takagi an opening. "Speaking of which, I haven't seen him in quite some time. His records probably need updating, too..."

"Oh, right, of course," Yukiko said hurriedly. "He's actually working on some case over in Japan, so we don't keep in touch as much as we used to. If you want, you can leave a message on the answering machine at home and he'll probably call you back..."

"But he's still at the same residence? 21 Nichoume?"

"Yes." The former actress sounded perfectly composed, but he thought he detected a hint of worry in her voice.

He wondered if he shouldn't assure her that he wouldn't be prying too much, but then again, he probably would be...sighing inwardly, Takagi squashed his misgivings and tried not to let his hesitation come through into the conversation. "I'll do that, then. So I should contact the Mouris for anything else about Conan-kun, is that right? I just wanted to call you and confirm the relation..."

"Of course, of course," Yukiko said smoothly. "They're his guardians right now, so they can tell you anything you need."

'Right now,' huh...? Takagi thought. Funny, when you're looking for the evidence, it seems as though everything that's said could be taken the right way. "Then, thank you for your time, Kudou-san."

"You're welcome! Please call if you need anything else!"

"Thank you," he said, and hung up.

Later, it was pure coincidence that they met when they did; Fate, Takagi thought maybe, as he stopped dead in the hall. The Detective Boys were trailing excitedly after Megure, prodding him about some haunted house case they'd been involved in. Conan brought up the rear, conspicuous by his proximity from the others and his annoyed expression, stance offensive, hands in pockets. He obviously had something to say but couldn't do so. It made it easier for Takagi to signal him, waving him over from his position by the drinking fountain with a tired smile.

The boy's face went from irritation to innocence in a split-second, like a well-worn mask dropping into place. "Takagi-keiji!"

"Hey, Conan-kun." Takagi's eyes flickered to the other Detective Boys, who didn't seem to notice their presence. "What brings you here?"

"Something they've been investigating." Conan jerked his head in the direction of Genta. Takagi noticed that it was they and not we. "I'm just along for the ride."

Steeling himself, the officer's hand tightened around his coffee cup, long gone cold. "It's funny, actually, I was just thinking about you earlier and wondered when I'd see you next. I wanted to talk to you..." He faltered, moving his gaze away from the too-knowing face.

Conan still maintained an air of perfect childishness, despite the stance, despite the eyes. "Oh? Something about a case?"

"Er, no, well..." He supposed it really was a case, somewhere along the line. "That is..."

Somewhere within him, the rational policeman part of Takagi Wataru that said 'Confront him; find out the truth behind all this!' was being outvoted by the one that waggled its finger and said 'Need Not To Know.' It was confusing; less than two minutes ago he'd been rehearsing this very speech, and then Conan had come around the corner and blew it all to pieces. So he'd know the truth - and then what? It wasn't like Takagi would be comfortable falsifying more records. But maybe there was something else he could do to help the boy, something more...even if he seemed to be getting along just fine by himself.

Takagi grimaced, aware that Conan was watching him intently while his emotions flitted through him faster than he could feel them. Do it, Wataru! You've already come this far, he'll trust you, you HAVE to know!

He'd already deleted the fingerprints, after all...

Takagi told his inner self to Shut Up, just because he'd done the kid one favour, that didn't mean he intended to become a guardian angel. But deep down he liked Conan, and had no desire to see him end up in trouble when something could be done to prevent it. But what could he do to help? Would knowing he knew make it better, or worse?

"Takagi-keiji...?" Conan looked worried now, and a little unnerved.

Takagi was suddenly aware that every thought he'd had in the last thirty seconds had probably paraded right across his face. "Right, uh, sorry. I got distracted for a second there." He laughed and rapped the side of his head with his knuckles. "Thinking on no sleep, you know how it is..."

"Haha, yeah," the boy replied with a fake-looking smile. "What was it you wanted to say?"

What Takagi wanted to say, and what he thought he should say were two very different things. Instead he opted for saying the first thing that came out of his mouth unhindered, and it was probably the most rational he'd been all day. "We never really got much chance to talk since the whole incident in the elevator, and I just thought..." he trailed off for a moment. "I thought, uhh..." He thought about the agreement they had made back then, with the bomb ticking ominously in their ears.

Conan's face indicated that he was probably following Takagi's thoughts faster than he himself was having them. 'I'll tell you...on the other side,' was what he'd said. He opened his mouth, as if to remind Takagi that they weren't dead yet, but the officer rushed ahead and cut him off. "--that you're a pretty capable guy, and we're glad to have your help around here. You and the other detective kids as well."

The hardness around Conan's eyes faded a bit, and his smile became slightly more genuine. "Thank you."

"And if you ever get in over your head, you can come to me, you know? Even if it's something trivial. Anything at all."

A little suspicion had crept back into the boy's gaze. "Takagi-keiji..."

Takagi swallowed. He wanted to just say it, 'Kudou Shinichi,' even if just for confirmation - but he couldn't quite read the emotions on the grade-schooler's face. Was he imagining something like fear? The boy's mouth was a flat line now, though his eyebrows were slowly going up, he was waiting for the accusation, he knew--

"That's all," the officer said simply, his lips curving into a smile as innocent as the one Conan had worn just a moment ago. "I won't ask you any more questions." He turned on his heel and walked quickly away, suppressing the urge to glance over his shoulder, listening closely for the sound of sneakered footfalls on the floor that, thankfully, never came. Takagi ducked into the office where the Mouri Archive was still spread across the table, and his hands were shaking. That was downright--

"Takagi-keiji." Though he was facing the exit, he hadn't even noticed Conan appearing in the doorway, the light glancing ominously off his oversized spectacles. Takagi found the mug falling from his grip and shattering into a thousand pieces on the tile, and he barely spared a glance for it even as the coffee pooled around his shoes.

Make your move, Kudou! the rational side of Takagi said. The other protested, Don't kill me!

"Thanks." Conan's mouth seemed to move in slow motion and he tilted his head as he slipped out of view again, not childishly but calculatingly, and there was something like relief in his eyes.

-end-

A/N: Now with more canonical references than ever! Woohoo!