Author's Notes: I said I'd never write an AU, but when a good idea latches on it just won't let you go. This is the first arc of a prolonged series, which I should continue until I get to introduce all the main characters in their new roles. Enjoy.

Disclaimer: CCS is not mine.

A Study in Scarlet

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Tomoeda used to be a good town. It used to be a city with parks filled with families and kids, fountains and ice cream stands. These days, nobody lets their kids play at the parks; the only kids there are the ones ditching school or trading marijuana joints under rusty drug-free zone banners. Frantic school board members bought buses to carry their students to and from campus to keep them away from the liquor stores and adult-interest shops that have sprung up along the way. Lap dance and phone sex ads litter the streets; the good folk who used to tear them down have given up. It's not safe to go out at night anymore.

Thats why I'm out here, strolling down near-abandoned streets in below-forty weather plus wind chill, in a downtown that's as big as it is empty, the result of a series of misguided city initiatives and commercial developments, so the department stores and bouquets stay closed and the unused office space stays empty. In my gray hat and beaten trench coat, I'm as much a part of the depressed scenery as the occasional vagrant I pass and the cracked pavement I'm walking on.

Up ahead is Ruby Moon's, one of many bars in town. I come here for three reasons: though not upscale, it's not as seedy as the rest; the bathroom is clean, and more is sold here than just whiskey and martinis.

When I push the heavy door in, a small bell overhead announces my entrance, and the proprietor looks from behind the counter with a twinkle in her eye that seems out of place in the dim atmosphere. "Hello there, Stranger.”

Somewhere in the background an old fashioned juke box is playing Frankie Valli. Shadowy silhouettes hunch over their drinks in pairs or singles. I hang my hat on the stand by the entrance but leave the jacket on as I sit down at the bar. “Hey, Akizuki. How's business?”

“Like usual, and for the hundredth time...”

“Alright, Nakuru. There, happy?”

She pours me my usual—Bourbon, no ice—and I warm my cheeks with a long sip before moving on to what I came for. “Got anything for me?”

From her vest breast pocket she withdraws a business card with an address across the city. “The babe you're looking for goes there every Friday night to dance, ever since she came to town almost a month ago.” Sliding the card across the counter to me, she moves to pour me another before I place a hand over my glass; tomorrow's a working day. “Everybody who is somebody is chasing her skirt; the gangs, the family bigwigs, the cops, but what's your angle? Business? Personal?”

“Maybe both.” I drain what was left in my glass before I stand up and produce a small roll of bills. “I'm a little tight right now. I'll have more for you next time.”

She takes the cash and slips it into her hip pocket without counting it. “As happy as I am with your business, you know you could always save your money by going on a date with me. I'd give you a discount.”

“How much of a discount are we talking about?”

“Twenty percent for a movie, forty with dinner, and free if you spend the night at my place.”

She smiles like a fox after me, linking her hands behind her hips and deliberately stretching her uniform tight over generous curves front and back. I grin over my shoulder as I make towards the exit, the bell jingling twice as the frigid night air surrounds me once more. “Maybe when you become a real woman. Later, Akizuki.”

--

Oniichan, are you going to become a detective? Like Dick Tracy or Sherlock Holmes?

Well, they may promote me to detective if Oniichan does a good job catching bad guys.

How many bad guys do you need to catch?

Oh lots… maybe ten, twenty? Or if I catch the Final Boss.

When Oniichan becomes a detective Sakura will go help at your office. I'll answer the phone and make you honeyed milk.

Only kiddos drink honeyed milk, grownups drink coffee.

I'm not a kiddo! And coffee tastes bitter…

Yeah, to tell the truth, Oniichan doesn't like it much either. That's why I…

“Rise and shine, Touya.”

The scene vanishes, evicted by the bright light that assaults my eyes. Pushing myself upright with a groan, I rub my face with the back of my hand and pick up the sound of light footsteps pattering away from the window towards the direction of the file cabinets.

“… What time is it?”

“Late. I came in twenty minutes ago and didn't wake you since you obviously needed the sleep.”

I survey the vicinity; the coffee table, which had been covered with files and photos until last night, was clean, and my desk was in better order than it had been in three days. “What would I do without you, Tomoyo… and is that coffee I smell?”

“With plenty of milk and honey; you would have to find a new secretary, house keeper, and assistant, or a very capable and longsuffering wife.”

“Marry me.”

Her smile was as pure as daylight. “You can hardly afford me now; I couldn't in good conscience burden you with my leisure expenses as well.”

Getting off the beaten sofa that I use for a bed half the time when it got too late to go home, I walk into the bathroom and strip off the wrinkled clothing that I slept in last night. A shave and shower later, I emerge from the steam-filled room feeling like a dead man resurrected. Sitting on my desk is a tall cup and a brown paper bag I recognize from the neighborhood bakery half a block away along with the morning paper.

In the kitchenette, Tomoyo measures out beans for the coffee maker that was to supply us for the rest of the day. “I bought you croissants; Heaven knows you have too much sugar with your coffee already.”

“Every man has a vice. Would you rather I take up smoking instead?” I browse through the front section of the paper as I eat; three robberies and five reported break-ins so far in the week, and it was only Friday. I skim the classified ads section for listings that may be interested in my services, highlighting a few that have the potential to bring in a paycheck when I'm through. I've been in the business long enough so that most times the clients come to me, but in times of economic slow down like these I'm not beneath doing some telemarketing.

“By the way, Touya, this came in the mail yesterday after you left. I think it just might make your day.” Tomoyo sat against the edge of my desk as she watched me open my present, a plain white envelope. “From Mrs. Trollope; five hundred dollars for our work and another five hundred for getting her the settlement she wanted.”

I lift the two light pieces of paper in my hands and sigh. “Seeing how the evidence we gathered of her husband's bad behavior was what sealed the case, we should have been the ones to get a slice of the settlement rather than her lawyers.”

“If that's how you feel, maybe you should have gone to law school.” Smiling sweetly at the scowl on my face, Tomoyo leans over and pats the back of my hand. “Now, now, let's just be thankful for the income. Look on the bright side, perhaps your reputation will spread as a result of this case and bring in more jobs.”

“‘Have a rich cheating spouse? Come see Touya Kinomoto, your friendly divorce expert.’ Yeah, I like how that ad would read; very approachable.” I hand the checks to Tomoyo and gulp down the rest of my breakfast. “Hopefully Mrs. Trollope will remember us when she dupes her next husband, or better yet, recommend us to her friends.”

After replacing the empty cup on my desk with a fresh mug, Tomoyo sits down at her desk and begins to type and I open my planner. Stapled to today's itinerary was the business card with the address from Akizuki, which I remove and place in my jacket's inner pocket. As I was about to move on and preview the rest of the day's tasks, a loud rapping at the door interrupts the peace in the office and in came the person whose face I least wanted to see; fate, it seems, was not about to let me get away with receiving good news without throwing in some pain in the ass. “Lieutenant Li, what a pleasant surprise. To what do we owe your ever cheerful presence?”

The Brat, as I liked to call him in private, comes up to my desk with an intimidating air. There is a chair but he remains standing, no doubt preferring to appear taller than me, not that I would have offered him a seat anyways. “You know why I'm here.”

“If it's about those parking tickets, I swear…”

I lift my mug just as his palm slams against the surface of my desk, rattling the cup holding the pens and pencils. “Don't waste my time, Kinomoto. Does the name Scarlet Lady mean anything to you?”

“I'm not well versed in porn actresses, but perhaps you could enlighten me.”

“How about Kaho Mizuki?” I must have shown some reaction, because the brat actually grins, a look I like far less than the pissed-off demeanor he likes to wear around the clock. “I've done my homework, Kinomoto. Once we figured out that the Scarlet Lady used to be a criminal psych instructor and mental health expert at the police academy, I found your name on her class roster; I even heard some interesting stories from your old classmates…”

I lace my fingers behind my head and lean back into my seat. “And? You're going to bring me up on suspicion of fraternizing within the force?”

“The statute of limitations for screwing your teacher is five years, so I'm afraid you're off free there.” Leaning across the table, Li's humorless face becomes even less friendly as he speaks in a low tone. “But there must be a reason why she's decided to come back to the town she used to call home… before she wrecked the place and took off so that we're still dealing with the mess today, and my gut tells me that her former favorite pupil might know the reason why.”

The room is silent but for the sound of Tomoyo's typewriter. The brat reaches inside his coat and pulls out a police flyer with an old photo of Kaho from the academy's personnel profiles. “Two month ago our lookouts reported sightings of her before she vanished again. These go out tomorrow: twenty-five thousand for information leading to the arrest of Kaho Mizuki, on suspicion of carrying out espionage, theft, and blackmail for domestic and international criminal organizations.”

I let out a drawn out whistle. “Twenty-five grand? I don't remember the force ever being that generous. She must have gathered more dirt on the higher-ups than I thought.”

“What's it to you? You're no longer on the force.” Li straightens his tie as he turns towards the exit, looking at me sideways. “Do yourself a favor, Kinomoto; if you know her whereabouts, give me a call. That money will fix your car, put you halfway to a nice bungalow out near the country, and leave enough to buy your secretary dinner at the French Bistro. Think about it.”

The man had the courtesy to nod in Tomoyo's direction but not enough to close the door without slamming it. Standing up with mug in hand, I stroll to the spot on the rug where Li had been standing a minute ago and lean against the edge of my desk, taking a sip of the still steaming brew. Stripping the finished page from the type writer and setting it aside, Tomoyo inserts a fresh sheet and resumes typing. “Well, boss?”

“I'm thinking about it.”

We take our time, me with my thoughts and she with the thank you letters. By the time the mug was three-quarters empty, I had made up my mind. “Tomoyo, you free tonight?”

She pauses her work and appears to consider. “Well, there was a movie on TV that I'd been waiting to see, it's a foreign film, so I don't think I'll be able to rent it later either.”

“Meet me here with the gear at 8:00 PM. I'll make it up to you.”

“How much making-up are we talking about here?”

“How does a bonus and dinner at the French Bistro sound?"