The first time she'd tried, Conan had unfastened the harness within seconds, not in the least deterred by the subsequent scolding.

After the third time, she managed to find a lock to secure it. It had taken him under a minute to squirm out.

On the fifth try, Ran strapped him in more tightly. Not tightly enough, though.

Try six, she found the right settings—almost snug enough to hurt. He promptly picked the lock.

When she searched him the next time, she missed the metal taped to the inner frame of his glasses.

The eighth time, they were in his shoes.

The ninth time, she found the lock picks, but thought nothing of the scissors.

By the twelfth attempt, she had found almost all of his hiding spots, and he didn't want to risk the rest.

After the fifteenth, when she started searching her own clothes as well, he didn't have much of a choice.

For number eighteen, he didn't try anything.

The same for the nineteenth.

Ran immediately regretted letting down her guard on the twentieth try.

Then, after almost a month of small battles, it was evening of the Kid heist. And after a thorough scrubbing and new clothes, Conan was out of tricks, stuck in a sea of legs as he missed everything. He was, to put it mildly, displeased. He tugged experimentally at the leash; Ran tugged back, pausing in her conversation with Sonoko to give him a disapproving look. He snarled quietly, and he knew he was acting childish, and he couldn't really bring himself to care.

Very deliberately turning his back on her, he sat down with a plop, bringing the length of nylon into his view in hopes of finding some flaw that might set him free.

There wasn't one.

Conan growled again. This was undignified, and frustrating, and boring. He hated it, was sick of not being able to do anything, of being treated like some stupid mutt. With nothing else to do, he started chewing on the leash, ignoring the unpleasant taste, desperately hoping that somehow it would break.

Something flashed instead, and he startled, stumbling over his own feet as he tried to jump up and instead landed awkwardly on the ground, looking up at the distinctive features of Kaitou Kid. With a camera. Well, shit. He was never going to live this one down.

Because I have this adorable image in my head of a little shocked Conan, sitting on the ground with a leash dangling from his mouth, little puppy ears and tail drawn on. And that image is the reason I'm going to learn how to draw.

Feels like Ran would be more likely to do this shortly after discovering Conan is Shinichi, when she's still pissed off about it, but no definite timeline.

I do not own Detective Conan, though I wish my little brother were that cute...