The Black Fox (Shinichi X Reader)

Hypocrisy

So, just a note. I love the Dissonance of the Stradivarius case, but it's one of those that it'd feel clunky trying to write (Y/N)/Rin in. Don't worry though, the important information will still end up getting conveyed!

On with the story! Hope it came out well!

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When everything with the case was wrapped up, and you all made it home safely, you decided to corner Conan. More accurately, you slapped one side of a pair of handcuffs over his wrist, and the other over your own. He looked at the handcuffs, then back at you with one of his best what-the-hell looks.

"What are you doing?" He grumbled.

"It should be pretty obvious. I'm getting answers." You stated.

"Can we do this another time? I haven't had any sleep yet." He sighed.

"Oh, that's fine." You nodded, an innocent smile on your face. "Though, I'm not planning to uncuff you until you give me answers. Hope that won't cause any problems~" You hummed, your innocent smile turning into a conniving smirk. "Hope you don't mind sharing a cot for the night. Oh, and let's hope you don't have to go in the middle of the night." Your eyes took on the glint they usually did when you were being manipulative and mischievous.

Conan's eyes narrowed. "You've got to be kidding me..." He started. "...You're dead serious about this... ugh... fine, let's get this over with." He changed his tune, having noticed your expression. He led the way back into the living room, and sat at the corner of the table, so you could somewhat face each other. "Now, what is it?"

"Why were you so freaked out when Detective Yamamura dialed that phone number?" You asked, trying to hide the ebbing worry from your tone.

Conan's expression darkened again. "It's nothing, just reminded me of an old case." He stated.

"Don't bullshit me." You barked, earning a startled look. "You piss me off with your lone ranger shit! You keep acting like this, and someone is going to get killed."

"If something comes of it, I'll fill you in. It's not important right now."

"Just tell me already!" You snapped.

"Why are you so adamant? Can't you just trust me?" He hissed.

"I do trust you, but the look in your eyes back then..." You muttered, lowering your head so you stared at the handcuffs that bound you together. "That look scared me. It's not a look I want to see on your face..." Your voice dropped to a low whisper.

Conan closed his eyes. I didn't realize I'd had on such an obvious expression. She knows that look all too well. Of course she'd be worried. He thought to himself. He let out a slow breath, before looking back at you. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you worry." He whispered, a sad smile on his lips.

"Tell me... tell me why. Why did you make that kind of face?" Your voice came out as a growl, as you tried to force your emotions down. "That face... it always preludes death." You stared into his deep blue eyes, and saw your own worried face. "Don't block me out, especially if you're going to wear that kind of face."

"It was the numbers he dialed." Conan finally relented. He couldn't bear to see that worried and scared expression on your face any longer. "When I was in that car with Vermouth, that was what I heard. At that time she was sending a message to her boss." He explained.

Your expression softened a little, though the mention of that repulsive woman dredged up unwanted memories. "Do you know what the numbers were then?"