Let me introduce you to a new character: my muse! For lack of a better name, I will just call her "The Muse."

The Muse: Wah! What a boring name! Why couldn't you call me "Callisto" or "Alexandra" or-

bubblyangel101: Because I'm the author, and you're not.

The Muse: *pouts and storms away*

I guess I won't be writing for awhile, because, as annoying as she is, I still need my muse...*chases after The Muse *

Disclaimer: No ownie!

oOo

All That It Would Take

In an abandoned warehouse, Beika City

It was a cold and merciless day. The clear crystal bead necklaces that rained down from the gray skies pierced the small, 7-year-old boy's clothing, as if to mock him, as he streaked down the street. He was only a spot in the city, a mere speck of nothingness in the entire world, for all the organization cared. And yet...he was the only hope that Vermouth had; the only "Silver Bullet" left, as Akai Shuuichi had already been taken care of by Kir. Why a Silver Bullet? To pierce the hearts of those who were like werewolves, the Black Organization. No, they WERE werewolves, as far as cruelty goes. "Do you see anything of interest, Vermouth?" Gin asked, obviously noticing her interest in the rain-soaked streets of Beika City. The wisps of smoke from his cigarette floated into the murky air of the factory.

"No, nothing at all." Vermouth turned her back against the boy.

"Good." Gin replied as he and Vodka got onto his black Porsche 356A and sped away toward Beika City, 5th district. In other words, Mouri Detective Agency.

The small boy listened to their conversation through the transmitter and listening device that he had planted in the factory. A sense of dread threatened to overcome him as he sped back to the detective agency, afraid to stop running to even catch his breath. In his mind he knew that it was futile trying to get there before Gin did; what was his speed compared to a car? Ran, Occhan, please be safe! he prayed silently. But if the heavens heard him, they did not respond, choosing instead to remain as silent and cold as the menacing clouds that sent down torrents of icy rain to the town below.

At this point, you might be wondering, Who is the boy? as I have not yet disclosed his name to you. Let's just say that his name was supposed to belong to a dead person, a dead teenager who supposedly died in the dark grounds of Tropical Land. Kudo Shinichi. That is the name. But that is of little or no interest to the reader now, a meaningless combination of syllables and sounds.

The wet, cold, and dripping young boy arrived at the agency, only to see a mess of books, papers, and various items scattered all over the floor. No one was in sight. The ominous silence seemed to be telling him, Too late! Too late! and the boy peered out the window only to see a black Porsche cruise out of sight. The scent of a cigarette lingered in the air, and the boy clenched his fists. "Gin," he muttered, in a small whisper barely audible, and a murderous look, illuminated by a sudden flash of lightning, appeared on his face, a look that was far too old for his age. And he ran on, propelled by fury and rage, to the outside world, but it was a useless attempt. The black car, so visible before, had disappeared into the gray, bleak city that stretched far into the distance, along with the person that he cared about most.

oOo

Conan's room, 2:00 A.M.

Edogawa Conan woke up suddenly, his heart racing. His blankets were covered in cold sweat. He could still hear the rhythmic Tap, Tap of the rain outside, a sound that had seemed so cruel in his nightmare. The image of the deserted detective agency was still freshly imprinted into his mind, so fresh that he could almost feel the icy rain pounding into his back, each one like a little stab into his heart. 2:00 AM, the scarlet red letters stated clearly on his digital clock.

He could hear Mouri's snoring, and he tiptoed to the kitchen, not that he would have to anyway, for the supposed "great detective" Mouri Kogoro would not wake up if a blazing meteor were to crash into his house. He wasn't called "Sleeping Kogoro" for nothing. After all, it was always Conan who solved all the murder cases and the most baffling tricks that the criminals used. He stood on his tiptoes to get a glass, which he then filled with water. It was a nuisance. Not pouring the water, but standing on his tiptoes. Really, he was 17 years old! Thinking about how he had been drugged to appear 7 by the Black Organization made him think about his dream all over again, an unpleasant experience that he'd rather not recall.

As Conan downed the glass of water, he took in the silence of the night, which, surprisingly, calmed him. Conan suddenly turned around. Did he hear a voice? Nah, I must be thinking too much.

He reentered his room and took a long, much-needed rest. A detective cannot corner an evil, heartless organization without the proper sleep and rest, no matter how brilliant he is, after all. And that was the last thing on Conan's mind as he drifted back into a deep, dreamless slumber.

oOo

Hallway, 1:55 A.M.

"Gin," Conan-kun was muttering in his sleep. Ran stopped briefly on her way back from the restroom. Gin? Why would Conan-kun be concerned about alcohol? She sighed. Conan-kun had not been sleeping very well lately. Every morning, she could see the dark circles under his red, tired eyes. Why would Conan-kun be so worried that he couldn't sleep? Ran shook her head, not knowing how to make sense of it all.

Creak...the door groaned as it opened. Maybe it was curiousity, maybe it was the fact that she was half-asleep, but Ran quickly hid behind one of the cabinets in the hallway. That particular cabinet was filled with famous and expensive Chinese china plates that had been sent to her father and mother as a wedding gift. It also contained many photos of Ran when she was younger, when Okaa-san hadn't left home. But wait...why was she thinking about this?

A very drowsy Conan-kun stepped into the kitchen, rubbing his eyes. Ran watched him, her heart pounding. Now this is silly, the logical part of her brain complained. It's just Conan-kun! Why do you have to hide?

Don't ask questions that I can't answer! her heart shot back. It was some kind of a sixth sense, intuition, they called it, that made her hesitant to approach the boy in the kitchen, pouring himself a glass of water. Conan-kun yawned and padded sleepily back toward his bedroom.

Ran noticed that the back of his neck-no, his whole body-was covered in sweat. "Did he have a nightmare?" Ran accidentally said aloud. She froze as Conan-kun looked behind him suddenly. She nearly collapsed in relief when he continued to trudge toward his bed.

Something was bothering Conan-kun, and Ran was determined to find out exactly what that something was.

oOo

AN: So? Was it ok? Please review! It's the only way I can tell if someone's actually been reading this mindless stuff...he he.