[Dictated]

[deductiongeek]

 Wow, I guess I had some really strange dreams while everyone was asleep.  It's interesting what kinds of things the mind comes up with, isn't it?

Comments

[workaphilic]

I've noticed.

[His eyebrows go up expectantly.]

Still, I'm bored.

[deductiongeek]

If you're bored, feel free to find something else to investigate.

[Conan did not want to bring anyone in on this. He crosses his arms and frowns stubbornly up at Sherlock.]

I will not allow anyone to involve themselves in my life without understanding the risks. In fact, it would be safer for everyone involved if you forgot whatever you have deducted right now and never spoke of it again.

[workaphilic]

Well, since that clearly isn't going to happen. [Tea!! He turns away again, pouring his tea very deliberately.] I can assure you that I understand the risks completely.

[deductiongeek]

[He watches as Sherlock pours the tea as he tries to figure out what to say. He wouldn't say everything, of course. But if Sherlock had already figured out some of it, he had to say something. Finally he just comes out bluntly with the most basic of the facts.]

My name is not Conan Edogawa. And I am not seven. I'm seventeen.

[workaphilic]

[He lifts one hand, waves the conversation along.]

Obviously.

[deductiongeek]

{Conan shoots him a quick annoyed look before continuing.]

You already have my name, or you should have figured it out already. Hattori gave more than enough clues.

[workaphilic]

[He sure did. Enough so that the castle isn't counting it under the terms of his loss.]

Kudo.

[And then, blandly:] Your friend needs coaching, if you're intending to keep this secret more than five minutes.

[deductiongeek]

High school detective Shinichi Kudo. [He says this with pride. It was not often that he had a chance to claim his real name. Of course this is quickly replaced with annoyance.]

I've kept this secret for two years now. Despite Hattori's assistance.

[workaphilic]

[He shrugs.]

Says more about the people you're keeping it from.

[But he doesn't really care much about that.]

What else?

[deductiongeek]

[Conan really did not want to talk about this. But he knew that at this point he had very little choice. If he didn't give something, he fully expected that Sherlock would never leave him alone or find some way of making his life difficult. He begins speaking very reluctantly.]

I first ran across them at an amusement park called Tropical Land. There was a murder on a roller coaster which was unrelated to them. I solved the case without any problems and left it to the police to handle the clean up.

And that was when I saw two men behaving suspiciously. I followed them, and found them in the act of carrying out a weapons deal. But while I was busy gathering business, the partner got behind me. They poisoned me with an experimental drug that was supposed to be the perfect murder weapon. It killed without leaving any trace detectable in an autopsy. And they left me for dead.

But as you can see it didn't kill me. It reverted me to this without altering my mind.

[workaphilic]

[His nose scrunches distastefully.]

Sloppy. Couldn't even wait five minutes to make sure the compound did what it was supposed to do? I've seen better executed plans from gaggles of schoolchildren.

[deductiongeek]

I believe they were in a hurry to leave to avoid the police. The area was still crowded with them due to the case on the rollercoaster. At least that was the reason I heard them give for not simply shooting me.

[And was that really the most important thing here?]

[workaphilic]

Sounds like the gun would have saved them the trouble.

[Sympathy is not his strong suit.]

I assume they figured out eventually that it didn't quite go to plan.

[deductiongeek]

No. They haven't. Officially in their records Shinichi Kudo died that night.

[workaphilic]

[His face actually falls a little. WOW, DISAPPOINTING....]

Suppose I shouldn't be surprised that their records are sloppy, too.

[deductiongeek]

My apologies that the only reason I'm still alive isn't interesting enough for you.

[Their records weren't sloppy at all,. But Conan was hardly about to talk about how Haibara had faked the records before she fled from the Organization. That he was putting himself at risk by revealing any of this was bad enough.]

[workaphilic]

[He's quiet for a fraction longer than necessary, his eyes searching.

Then he smiles, abruptly.]

Quite all right. Can't expect all our nemeses to be clever.

[Yeah, he did just accept that apology.]

[deductiongeek]

No. Some of them make up for their lack of cleverness by number and scale.

[He'd met enough of the members of the Organization to know that many of the grunts were just that. Brute enforcement with no subtlety at all. But the upper level members? Gin. Vermouth. Bourbon. And the boss? Conan knew very well that each one of them was at his level. He'd barely escaped from some of his encounters with them.

Of all the ones he'd met, he certain that Vermouth was the most dangerous of all. It was only the game she was playing with him and her private agenda that had kept him alive through their meetings.]