Title: Young Cuss
Author: Jordanna Morgan (email@example.com)
Archive Rights: Please request the author’s consent.
Characters: Jimmy (Conan) and Richard.
Setting: Sometime early in the series.
Summary: Conan accidentally encounters Richard’s softer side.
Disclaimer: They belong to Gosho Aoyama. I’m just playing with them.
Notes: Just for fun. A treat ficlet for Rosencrantz in the 2015 Trick Or Treat Exchange.
One thing’s for sure, I’ve had an interesting home life since I was shrunken to the form of a child. This charade as Conan Edogawa has led me on some pretty wild adventures, tripping up murderers, thieves, and kidnappers—but I don’t think anything has ever weirded me out so much as the little “bonding experience” I just had with my reluctant host, Richard.
Picture this. I was sitting on my bed, concentrating on the code I found written on a torn scrap of paper at a robbery scene. (Because, as usual, we just happened to be a block away when the crime went down. I’m starting to wonder whether it’s Richard or me who attracts these things… not that I’m really complaining. Or I wouldn’t be, if we’d actually stumble across a lead on the guys who left me like this.) Anyway, it’s a tough problem cracking this complex code with only a small portion to go on. I was getting pretty frustrated—so I let loose with some words that most people my size are definitely not supposed to say.
…And then, hearing a little choked noise, I looked up to see Richard gawking at me from the doorway.
Yeah, I know, I should have had the door closed. But Rachel had gone off to the store, and as far as I knew, Richard was in his usual condition. Who would’ve guessed he’d choose that moment to wake up from his drunken stupor and come down the hall?
So there stood the old-timer, staring at me with bugging eyes and a wide-open mouth. His ears were practically twitching from what he’d just heard… and then he guffawed. He swaggered into the room and slapped me on the back, almost knocking me off the bed.
“Ha! …Think I’m startin’ ta have a little more respect for ya, kid. Not ta worry, Rachel won’t hear ’bout this from me. Just don’t say things like that in fronta her, ’er she’ll have both our hides…”
He smiled chummily, and for a second there, I really thought he was going to invite me to have a beer.
So what’s a presumed eight-year-old to do? I pasted on my broadest kiddie grin, and nodded wildly. “Uh… right!”
“Heh.” Richard smirked conspiratorially, reaching out a big hand. It managed to land mostly on top of my head, and he ruffled my hair—with all the gentleness of a mauling tiger, leaving my glasses skewed. Then he left me to massage the feeling back into my scalp, and staggered away to the hall again, heading for the bathroom.
I glared down at that jumble of code on the paper, and said a few more grown-up words for good measure. Just because, for a moment, I got a sneaky enjoyment out of the feeling that I could—at least when Rachel isn’t around.
Richard Moore is a terrible father… but on occasion, he’s not such a bad guy.
© 2015 Jordanna Morgan