Vineyard [Detective Conan fanfic, Vermouth x Gin]

Chapter 41 New Year, New Shenanigans

Author's note: New chapter 41 as of 30/1/2023.

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Chapter 41 New Year, New Shenanigans

A whiff of danger in the air. Imaginary suspenseful music from old western movies swelled in the air. A staredown for the ages as both parties stood their grounds in the battleground called Katie's bedroom. Ladies and gentlemen, in the red corner by the door was the lord of all things grumpy himself—Gin; in the blue corner, his daughter—Katherine, reigned over the land of cuteness on her bed. And in the middle of the room was an empty basket—the source of their contention.

"I don't understand. Why are we spring cleaning? It's not even spring yet. It is still snowing outside." Kate pointed at the frosty window.

"Deep cleaning, thorough cleaning then." Gin rolled his eyes and kicked the basket to her feet. "You know the drill. Everything you don't need in the basket."

"But I need them all." With outstretched arms, she shielded a mountain of plushies behind her.

"How? How do you need dozens of plushies on your bed? Name me the last time you played with them."

She plunged herself on top of the soft pile and hugged all of the plushies. "I am now."

"In. The. Basket."

"You're just tossing my stuff to make room for your new car." She pouted. Spring cleaning was simply a veil where he hid his true agenda. The tools and junk, which included her old plushies, needed to go somewhere. She overheard his plan yesterday and snuck into the garage to rescue her friends.

"You do realize I'm not throwing your stuff away. If only. It's in the other house. You can visit over the weekend."

"So you say." Her puffed-up cheeks amplified her skepticism.

"My baby isn't parking in the driveway if I can help it."

"Why not?" Car parking in the driveways was a common sight. In fact, it was where most people parked here.

"Do I make you live outside? No, I don't."

"I am your baby."

He scoffed. "At least my Porsche doesn't talk back to me."

Suddenly, a brilliant flash crossed her blue eyes. Her expressions brightened up. "Mommy has more stuff than me."

"Your mother is an adult."

She crossed her arms and mischievously arched an eyebrow. Her singsong voice and self-satisfying smirk irked him to no end. "Uh-huh."

He clicked his tongue in annoyance and spat. "I am not afraid of your mother." But he wasn't going to tell the woman who got him the car in the first place to pack her things into storage. That would be putting a loaded gun in her hands and asking for a hail of bullets. "Hurry up. Or you won't have a playdate."

For once, he could drop her off at Sarah's and earn him a kid-free morning.

With great reluctance, she said her teary goodbyes and placed one last kiss on her toys before placing each of them in the basket.

After her third kiss, he growled. "Quit the melodramatic. This is not a soap opera."

***

The first trip Gin made to the cars with a stack of heavy-duty boxes in his arms; Vermouth was lounging on the couch and flipping through her magazine. On the second trip he made with an armful of tools, she was still on the couch admiring her perfectly manicured nails. Finally, on his third trip to the car, he snapped. "Are you just going to sit there?"