Title: Table for Two
Fandom: Detective Conan
Words: 1,082
Character(s): Ran, Conan
Rating: PG-13 (For one bad word, and Ran's slightly dirty mind)
Prompt: Word #21 - Booking
Disclaimer: All characters named in this fic belong to Gosho. He's the mastermind. I'm merely a puppeteer, borrowing someone else's puppets.
A/N: I don't know what plunnie bit me to get this one. I guess I've always preferred the outcome of a No Cure scenario, with Shinichi being stuck as Conan. It's not like I don't want him to succeed! I just…dunno. Maybe I like the challenges he'll have to face and explanations he'll have to give. –shrugs– Anyhoo – this is a bit of an epilogue for the entire series, but it doesn't spoil much, if anything at all. Enjoy!
Summary: "I didn't think you would be bold enough to take me out on a date," she confessed.

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"It only took you how long to get this table?"

Conan laughed loudly. He quickly stifled it at the accusing glares of several respectable-looking ladies and gentlemen. The head hostess shot him a dirty look, but still led them to their table.

"Only about a year," Conan continued, in a whisper, his voice still holding in traces of amusement. "They seemed to think that someone as young as me couldn't possibly afford a place like this."

Ran Mouri smiled a hidden smile. "You have a respectable – and profitable – business," she said kindly. "They just didn't update their socialite list properly."

Both of them took seats, asking for two waters and waited for the waitress to leave.

Ran leaned forward. "I didn't think you would be bold enough to take me out on a date," she confessed, her voice stressed nervously. But with excitement and delight, rather than actual anxiety. "I thought…you'd be more worried about – "

"What other people think? Are you kidding?" Conan smirked and adjusted his much smaller, thinner framed glasses. "When have I ever cared about what people think?"

"Good point," Ran decided, leaning back in a satisfied manner. Some of her own edginess had left her at his words anyway. "Weirdo."

"You don't act like a responsible adult," Conan smiled, and his words were happy.

"I hope I never do," Ran replied instantly. "No one should act their age – they should simply be mature."

"Amen to that," Conan said, saluting her in a joking manner. But he was serious. After all, he was used to pretending to act 'his age' for most everyone except a select few. Ran being one of them. "Anything you want to get from here, you go ahead. I really just booked this place because I wanted to shock Inspector Shiratori." He shrugged playfully.

Ran stifled her guffaw just in time for their waters to arrive. "You're terrible."

"Always have been, always will be."

Her lips were smoothed into a wry smile. "I missed you so much," she blurted and turned her head, blushing.

He looked pained for a moment. "I know."

"No, I don't think you do," Ran said, her voice only a little more steely than previous.

Conan stayed silent.

"I missed your smile – the one you had when you played soccer in the rain or after you solved a big case. Your laughter – that carefree kind you had whenever I yelled at you for a bad joke you made," she listed calmly, her voice slowly warming. "I missed the old you."

A lean forward and a brush of lips against her forehead was what brought Ran's startled gaze back upwards. An unrepentant grin greeted her.

"I missed that too you know," Conan kept that grin, but it faded quickly. "I couldn't be that person though, for the longest time. There was so much to fear." He didn't need to mention that he had feared for her everyday during those dark times. She knew it.

"You're really back now, to stay. I don't care what your name is," Ran said her voice syrupy like warm honey. "You are you."

Conan's dark countenance lifted at her words and it was his turn to blush. "Heh, I suppose you're right."

Ran caught a few disapproving gazes sent in her direction – and several whispers. She tuned them out and shook her head, but some of the hushed barbs hit home a few insecurities.

Conan wasn't one of the best detectives in Japan for nothing. "I'm more worried about you," he admitted. "Are you sure…this is okay?"

"I thought you didn't care about what other people think," she said, a little mutinous.

He took her hands carefully. "I don't. But they won't be riding me for this. They'll accuse you of…seduction. I'm a young and naive boy, remember? Tender age of eighteen and all that. Obviously, I'm still impressionable."

"Tender my butt," Ran responded, getting her spirits back. Her chuckle was dry. Conan almost said something involving her butt being tender, but refrained smartly.

For a moment, they did nothing, the candlelight making their eyes reflect dancing shimmers of flame.

"I don't think I'll ever see the old you again," Ran said solemnly. "Too much time and too many things have happened."

"You're probably right," Conan said quietly. "But that's not such a bad thing, is it?"

The woman twirled her shorter brown hair back behind her ear and chuckled to herself. "No. Especially for me."

Conan tilted his head. "What do you mean?"

Gosh, thought Ran. On certain subjects, Conan was still much younger than she was.

"Oh, let's just say I have a laundry list of things that you'll be good for now," she said boldly, grinning.

It was rare to see her detective blush, but every time it happened, Ran felt like she had scored some sort of point for the home team. "We haven't gotten to the alcohol," he whispered, "And you're already tipsy."

She kicked his ankle in a firm, but teasing way. "Don't start. You are the worst drunk I've ever met. And that includes my father."

"Oh now really," Conan sounded completely affronted. "I can't be worse than your dad."

"Oh yes you can, you moody bastard," Ran said in an undertone, trying her hardest not to giggle, and sound serious. "You're nearly bipolar when you're drunk. And you're floppy."

"Floppy?!"

"Yes," she confirmed. "Like you lost all of your bones and were only held upright by couches and sometimes a table. Maybe a chair. If you didn't slide off of it."

He eyed her suspiciously. "How do I not remember any of this?"

"Again," she said, waving a fork in his face accusingly. "You are the worst drunk I have ever met."

Before Conan could respond in a heated fashion, the waitress came back and listed their choices for the evening. This place was above menus, apparently, so they had to memorize what she said in order to ask for their food.

After she left (both of them had ordered the salad), their eyes found each other's again and they both smiled.

"I really am glad you're back, Shinichi," Ran said, not really caring that she called him by his old name. It was the soul she was addressing, not the identity he carried.

A smile shone from his face; earnest, intelligent, and very much hers to keep, if she wished. "Glad to be back."

They raised their glasses, which rung like a single bell when clinked together.

"Welcome home."