SPY COOPER
A new fan-fiction
By:
Kit-Karamak
(aka)
KEN WEAVER
I would like to dedicate this story to you. You, who happen to be reading this very text at this very moment, thank you!
Disclaimer: This story may not be reproduced for a profit by ANYONE. The characters and Intellectual Properties, the names and the game Sly Cooper, are registered trademarks and are copyrighted material belonging to Sucker Punch and Sony Of America. This story is a nonprofit fan fiction used for entertainment purposes only. All original characters and original story concepts are by Kenneth Herbert Weaver Junior!
You may redistribute this story ANYWHERE you wish, so long as you don't earn a profit on it! All rights to Sly Cooper are reserved to Sony and Sucker Punch, concerning profit and, therefore, they are the sole owners of this story (which means they're the only ones allowed to simply sell this story without anyone's permission!). Please DO redistribute this story (for free)!
A sequel written in the storyline of
Lament Of Carmelita
By Kit Karamak
SPY COOPER
Prologue:
The words at the top of the white sheet of paper read "Sylvester Cooper" but as far as the scruffy, disheveled raccoon was concerned, his birth certificate simply said 'Sly'. Had Paris not been so windy today, his fur would have been neat, trim and well maintained but one couldn't simply control Mother Nature, now could they? His mocha-colored gaze lowered, continuing to peruse the page in silence. It was an interesting proposition and the pay was easily as good as the incentives offered. The problem rooted itself in the existance of a monstrous drawback. A catch like this required some measure of thought.
The lithe yet athletic raccoon, Sly Cooper, sat upon a dusty sofa with his feet up on a coffee table. He sat in the afternoon shadow of two well-dressed gentlemen both of whom stood opposite of him, the sunlight filtering in through the living room windows and resting upon their backs and shoulders. It gave them a strange sort of ethereal glow as if to add to the fact that they were important. The fact was, they were important; that's all there was to it.
"Let me see that identification again?" Sly asked, lifting his eyes. The men, both of which were canine, drew out their wallets. The black Labrador on the left was equally proportionate to the Chow-mixed Sheppard on the right. As if rehearsed, they flipped their wallets open in unison. On the top was an identification card with their names and their mailing address. On the bottom flap of the wallet, each had a badge that identified them as members of the American Embassy located in Lyon, France.
Sly was still so incredibly amused by all of this. "And you found my cottage using American Government Intelligence?" His eyes dropped back to the paper, picking up where he left off, half way down the page. Each agent rescinded their wallet, replacing them into their pockets.
The Lab on the left replied, "That is correct, Sir. There are unofficial 'perks' to this offer as well. We've been briefed on your psychological profile; it only seems obvious to make these perks based on the fact that we want to make offers that would appeal to you, but it's not something we can actually document because it's not exactly something we can legally offer."
Holding a hint of sarcasm in his voice, the Raccoon simply said, "Neat; go on." The Master Thief placed a thumb over the page before him, just to mark where he left off. His eyes rose back to the two canines. "All the 'unwritten' perks are usually the good ones, anyhow."
"These are things that we can't put on paper," said the Sheppard. "But if you're successful in this case, it will benefit more than just you."
The Labrador nodded in agreement to his partner's explanation then added, "Interpol Inspector Carmelita Montoya Fox will receive a pay raise and promotion, your team's driver will receive an offer from a major Automobile manufacturing brand-name to design a van… your demolitions teammate will be offered the chance to begin a career with the National Aeronautics Space Administration in Texas OR the National Security Administration in Maryland, over in the United States; the same offer stands for his girlfriend. Finally, since monetary supplement wouldn't hold any appeal to someone who has inherited a private, unsubstantiated amount of fortune, America would simply offer you one personal favor of your choosing; non-transferable by means of Will, with an expiration date of your death, should you not make good on it by that time."
"That's," Sly trailed off for a moment, thinking just how happy everyone else would be with those perks, if he simply took this commission from the United States Government. "Pretty sweet," he finally concluded. "But my question is this: There's a line here, in this contract, which basically says failure or 'capture' will be met by the United States completely disavowing all knowledge of … well… everything. So, if one of my team mates becomes captured, you can't send in troops to help them?"
"That is correct," The chocolate-furred canine said, softly. "As far as further questions, I would ask that you refrain from speaking them out loud. They can wait for when your entire team is assembled at the location of our choosing, after you've chosen to accept. We need complete consent from every member of your team."
"We're not mercenaries," Sly explained. "The term 'team', 'family' or 'cult' doesn't really bode well. Let's stick with 'gang', shall we?"
"Very well," said the Lab with a confirming nod. "But you'll be unofficially hired as Mercenaries. There are also incentives that we're putting in writing; we're not asking for an answer today. We're looking for a decision by tomorrow at noon. Report to the Embassy in Lyon with everyone. There will be American military support in some parts of your mission; such as insertion methods and minimal extraction situations, but even the Seals have failed this particular mission… thus our decision to commission you and your comrades."
"All right, I gotcha," Sly said, rubbing his chin. "Noon, huh? And you're contract, here, says that if I succeed, my "Criminal Name" as well as that of my friends becomes one of those little details that get swept under the carpet?"
"Yes," said the Labrador, drawing the word out slowly before adding, "We've worked something out with the French Government concerning this issue. It will all go down as if it was a mistake in the records; that you've never actually been officially proven as a criminal with an actual record."
"Oh, really," Sly mused, with an expression of pondering, tapping his chin. "Seals failed this mission? As in U.S. Navy Seals, right?"
The Chow-mixed Sheppard immediately looked uncomfortable. "Again, let's just start saving those questions for when we're in a secure area, please."
"See you tomorrow," Sly replied playfully giving a 'thumbs up' signal. "I've got people to call, although I do have one more question, regarding this entire ordeal that I absolutely must know, right now." He paused then blurted it out… "Your unofficial perks seem to involve Inspector Fox, besides just the members of my group. How does she play into this?"
"Because they're not going to be briefed in this situation, Interpol will be sending her in to stop this theft from happening although that's not her primary objective; she doesn't even know what's going on yet, neither do they. She'll be assigned to investigate the first attempt that was made on this object," the lab said in a very blunt tone. "Do not tell her of your involvement. Do not tell her that it was Navy Seals. We've already disavowed knowledge of their mission; they were executed under the assumption that they were members of a thief guild. But believe me, this is the most important thing you've ever been commissioned to steal; not to mention it's the most important thing you've ever stolen."
"All right, all right," Sly returned, holding his paws up, "I won't ask anymore questions. I just wanted to see how Carmelita would be playing into this. You realize that this hurts my chances of working things out with her, right?"
"That's not our problem," said the Sheppard. "Although we realize your ties to her are important, she'll be in just as much danger as yourself. This mission and the intrinsic situation revolving around the object that we need are paramount. So long as the object winds up in our paws, the mission will be a success and she will be promoted, even if she feels her mission had failed by not identifying the Seals or stopping the theft. You cannot tell her that you're working for us; she would report it to Interpol and it would go public… In such a situation, we would disavow any knowledge… your contract would be forfeit.
"Also, you cannot allow her to be injured or killed on this mission, while simultaneously avoiding capture by her… if she dies, it becomes a media event. It's a tricky situation; trickier now than when the Seals failed. Needless to say, the American Government is growing somewhat frustrated and desperate." The Lab drew his paw out, as if trying to silence his partner but both knew that this visit was actually a sales pitch designed to intrigue Sly, in order to get his help.
"She's being assigned even if I don't accept?" Cooper asked. "I know you said no more questions, but this is kinda important and would help me seal the deal."
"Her flight leaves before yours does," said the Labrador. "She may have already received this assignment; if not, then she will when she arrives at her desk tomorrow morning."
"See you at noon," Sly replied with a nod. As far as he was concerned, the deal was already sealed… someone had to make sure Inspector Fox remained safe, especially if there was so much secrecy going on. He decided it was time to pay her a visit before things got underway. But first, he would have to see these agents to the door then call the gang together.
An Inspector for Interpol, Carmelita Montoya Fox had not seen Sly Cooper since the incident involving Prague and Panama, forty-five days ago. She'd thought of him a few times and her dreams were less vicious, but she was so hyper-focused on her job that those thoughts were never given the chance to evolve into longing or desire to see his face. At least not yet. Did she love him? She wasn't sure she could accept it just yet; of course she adored and obsessed over him, but he'd been avoiding her and she had to bottle her emotions…
She knew she was struggling with an unhealthy obsession involving Sly Cooper but love… that was a strong word. She knew she'd slipped up and confessed her love to him in the past but things were different right now. He was exonerated in France, but his criminal record and family name was still at large in many other countries. Regardless, he always managed to surprise her. She didn't like having her affections toyed with; getting romanced by him and then being turned into a laughing stock at Interpol … that was difficult.
The thing was, Carmelita was an emotional woman. As quick as her temper could flair up at a crime scene, her eyes could tear up at sappy old romance movies. Of course, she didn't like mixing business with pleasure and so most of the people on The Job never saw the 'other' emotional side of her. Now that Sly had gone over a year without practicing criminal activities, she was finally ready to believe in him, even if she'd not acknowledged that fact to herself just yet. Sly seemed to be trying and that really did mean something to her… even if she still had a few bad memories about him from the distant past. More than once she had felt like the laughing stock of Interpol when he got away after confusing her with charm.
It didn't happen to her this most recent time; they parted ways after Panama with the promise of a future 'date' but that never happened either. Maybe he was avoiding her, or maybe he was out stealing again, but part of her still had some sort of secret faith in her heart that he was simply recuperating from the recent ordeal and was, in fact, not out breaking the law again. After all, he'd promised her and sealed that promise with a kiss. If he was out there stealing again, it would prove that his word of honor, as a man, meant nothing.
Okay, so maybe she did love him… just a little. Or maybe she was fooling herself and simply stifling her true emotions regarding him; she wasn't sure. But he did break up with her about a year ago and that hurt. He'd had a bout with amnesia and she suckered him into joining Interpol as Constable Cooper. It lasted about six months and they even worked a few cases together with him acting as her protégé. Then, one night out of the blue, he up and left her.
She later found out that he had learned that someone was rebuilding the machine responsible for terrorizing his family for generations. She found out that he ducked out of the relationship in order to ensure the safety of her and their future-possibility of a family. It was a sweet gesture but… it'd been forty-five days since she last saw him. That was disconcerting. Not even a damn phone call. Nothing! She could only hope that he wasn't out stealing, again. She could handle just about anything else, but if she found out that he broke his promise in regards to thievery, she would view it as a personal and very intimate betrayal of her trust.
The sandy-furred vixen picked a piece of lint off of her evening gown then turned back towards the rest of her apartment. It was a nice place; top floor with a balcony and a good view of Paris, but it wasn't as large as the cottage she'd dreamed about as a little girl. Of course, now that Sly had all that inheritance, she and he could afford a beautiful cottage on the sea-side cliffs of Normandy; she quickly scolded herself for such silly thoughts.
Carmelita, normally seen as an intense, passionate and strong woman, was something else entirely when she was alone…. Nobody really had any clue, but the fact of the matter was simple: when Carmelita was alone, she could be downright… well… girly. Well, maybe not always but sure enough, she was proving this to herself now by picking up a pillow that was on the living room sofa. Sure, she'd used it to prop herself up while watching TV earlier, but now she was hugging it on the way back to her bedroom.
Halfway down the hall, she pivoted on her heel, doing an elegant twirl. She'd had ballroom dancing lessons as a little girl and was quite the accomplished dancer in her spare time. It was great exercise and made her feel feminine, after a day at the office, let alone an afternoon at the shooting range. She stopped right at the bedroom door, leaned backwards in memory of being dipped at the palace outside of Calcutta, then gracefully moved into the darkened room. She paused and reached for the light switch.
There, lying across her bed was Sly Cooper. He had a rose in his teeth and his blue cap was in his right paw, tucked over his chest. His shoes were on the floor but his feet were crossed at the ankles; his infamous blue shirt was wrinkle free and neatly pressed in all the right places. Carmelita Fox gave the pillow another tight squeeze, turning away from the light switch. "Oh, God, what I would give to be in the arms of…" She murmured softly.
Sly's smile broadened, expecting for her eyes to connect with him at any second. His pose was picture perfect, the long-stem rose clinched in his muzzle, the devious and sexy look in his eyes. He knew he was a romantic and he knew he would startle the hell out of her in just half a second…
Carmelita's heart stopped and the breath in her lungs rushed out in an unexpected screech of surprise. It wasn't that she was frightened or necessarily startled; she never reacted in such a way over silly Halloween gags at the office… no, she screamed because she was shocked… Yes, shocked to have just realized that someone saw her being girly, silly and running around the house in a nightgown! Her mind didn't yet register that she'd dropped the pillow and covered her muzzle with both paws, crisscrossed over one another.
Cooper's grin widened even more, if that were possible. In his deepest, cutest voice rendition of Pepé La Pew, he said, "Hello baby." The words were spoken carefully so that the rose didn't muffle the exaggerated accent of the word that sounded like 'bébe'. Like a deer in headlights, Carmelita was frozen for a moment, just gawking at him. Indigo strands of her hair flopped forth, partially obscuring her left eye, giving her a sultry, coquettish look. Sly waggled his brows in approval then winked playfully.
Where her prior statement had trailed off, she now simply shrieked, "…Sly Cooper!" For some reason, this amused the raccoon to no end as he replied with his most dazzling, masculine, and flirtiest expression. A twinkle of mirth gleamed in his gaze which was just enough to restart her heart. It pitter-pattered in anticipation and yet it pounded as fiercely as she was blushing. Carmelita just stood there with her paws covering her mouth.
Sly, being an outgoing, stereotypical Casanova, sat up on the mattress. He then put his paws on the front bedposts, leaning forward. Quite suddenly, he shifted his weight into his paws and loosely somersaulted off the bed, quickly embracing her into his arms, still holding the rose in his teeth. Again, he spoke over the stem, every so softly saying, "What was that about being in someone's arms?" His voice was a whisper, his tones were intensely personal and directed only to her. It was a side of him that he showed to no other, especially since she accused him of not being romantic, last month in Panama.
"You're… so," She suddenly found that she was at a loss for words; blushing furiously and standing before him in a nightgown. "Incorrigible and," she continued, searching for words to say, if not so that she could simply force the breath from her lungs that she'd been holding for nearly half a minute, now. "So, ridiculous and… stupid…!" Carmelita trailed off, her lower lip nearly trembling from the adrenaline that had been added to her blood after being startled. Why did he suddenly come back? Why was he doing this to her…?
Sly knelt before her, causing her breath to catch in her throat again. He lifted the pillow, standing back up and placed it against her chest, between them, with the rose now in his left paw. He whispered once more, telling her, "You dropped this." His lips were just inches from her own and her eyes were distant and starry looking. "And," he added with just a hint more tone in his voice now, "What did I tell you about calling me by my middle name?" he chided gently, referring to the 'stupid' comment. His grin broadened once more. Her heart was racing; he came back. He came back! Here he was!
He leaned closer, as if to kiss her. Her eyes began to lower, gazing down the end of her nose at his approaching masculine visage. Out of the corner of her eyes, she finally noticed that he was wearing his blue shirt and had his cap still tucked over his chest in his right paw. The rose was in his left…. His blue shirt. She suddenly turned her head away from him, her voice rolling over her tongue, ruining the moment. "You're in your 'work shirt'… did you lie to me and steal?" Her own form of convincing caused her heart to drop.
"I simply thought I'd wear something familiar," he replied, dropping the hat and rose at her feet. His paws lifted, cradling either side of her face, bringing her eyes back to him so that their gaze locked. "Besides, my nightgown is in the laundry."
She flashed a bit of a smile at his joke but part of her still didn't trust herself around him. "But, I mean," Carmelita found herself at a loss of words again. Did she have Spasmodic Dysphonia all of a sudden? She cursed herself, trying to say everything that was on her mind at all the same time. The overload of thoughts processed all at once and yet the only words that came out were to the tune of, "But did you cheat on me with that cane? You gave me your word."
Sly lifted his right paw, placing his index finger to her lips, leaning forward so that his own lips were on the other side of that finger. Their noses touched and her heart went from pounding to still at all the same time. The only thing that separated their lips from a kiss was his fingertip. A kiss; it was so close to happening! So close to a kiss! The kind that happened when they defeated Clockwerk. The kind that happened when he faked amnesia and asked her to go steady. It was practically happening…! She was a mishmash of emotions and they were all bubbling up inside of her chest. Oh, how she wanted to take charge, grab his shoulders and kiss him deeply. She couldn't; she was frozen in his embrace!
Sly decided to play it confident and cool. He knew she was suddenly a mess and took advantage of that fact by adding, "The only thing I came to steal was your breath and your lips." Of course she wouldn't go for a line like that; no, he used it to help her break out of this strange and sudden bout with stage-fright.
A breath was found! She drew it in, taking advantage of it, and said, "If this is another nightmare where you suddenly die, I'm going to hurt someone." Her words were slightly muffled by his finger and the proximity of his lips, on just the other side of that slender digit. Carmelita was practically trembling from the thinning of adrenaline in her blood. She had goosebumps under her fur, causing her tail to be puffier than usual; part of her was glad it was hidden, coiled around her legs, under the nightgown.
"This is no nightmare," Sly replied. He wasn't trying to imply that he was a 'Mister Dreamy' by any means but he was certain that their proximity was quite the opposite of any definition of nightmare. He then re-cupped the side of her face, removing that finger, and did exactly what she half-wished she had the guts and control to accomplish…
He kissed her. It wasn't just any kiss. A chaste kiss would have been a disappointment. A deep, passionate French Kiss would have been overboard and too soon. That kind of kiss was something to work up to… No, he started off slow. It was just right. His lips pressed against hers, meshing softly. It was a soft nibble on the pliable flesh of her velvet tiers and it was damn good. Simultaneous to pressing his muzzle to her own, he also breathed inwards deeply, as if to inhale the very scent of his lover, Inspector Carmelita Fox.
Now it was time to delve deeper; the velveteen tip of his tongue tenderly pressed against her pursed lips, gently vying for entry. It took a moment but she couldn't help herself to deepening the intensely passionate kiss, parting her lips to capture that warm, pink tip. Their tongues dueled for a moment, not so very different from a dance… they moved together and yet against one another, swirling and sliding with the deepening of an embrace… she pressed herself to the pillow that was still between their bodies.
How long did the kiss actually last? She couldn't be sure and was glad to have lost track of the time. Her body tingled, on fire with love and desire. Some special part of her heart and her body was awakened by his sensuality. While innocent and naïve in the art of love making, she was in tune with herself well enough to simply know that she was undeniably turned on by their kiss.
Cooper, on the other hand, was just as inexperienced. And yet, he had the confidence to let himself feel natural while sharing in the kiss with her. His tongue drew back and he began to nip at the corner of her maw, moving to the left, trailing tiny kisses down over her jaw, maneuvering down the right side of her neck. She was on fire, sweating the bullets of desire from the heat that was building in her torso, in her gut. A yearning ache burned with need under her flesh; she was hungry for him as a mate and yet she was as completely and totally satisfied as a woman could ever hope to feel. How could this proximity fulfill and complete her? She didn't know; the betrayals of his thievery were forgotten for now and she wrapped herself up in his essence as if it was tangible.
Sly debated; should he trail his kisses down her neck into dangerous territory or should he move upwards and nibble at her ear? The sensation of being torn only lasted for a split second, then the decision was made. Soft little suckles at her neck were transmuted into little baby kisses; he slowly made his way up the side of her neck, smothering the side of her face in affectionate physical symbols of love. She could suddenly feel his warm breath against her ear and it made her shutter. His soft moan of content gave her shivers; she clung to him.
Once his lips were pressed against her ear, a soft whisper was offered to the one he adored. "Tell me, would you be even happier if we had this every day and you had a promotion at work?"
Giddy, the vixen did something very uncharacteristic for a change; she giggled. "Why, I think that's the only thing that could possibly be better than having you here right now. You really gave up stealing, right?"
"If you ask me," Sly said carefully, "I never stole to begin with; I took back what didn't belong to other thieves. I gave back to the deserving, even if it wasn't mine to give. But, to answer your question from earlier, I've not stolen anything." Yet was the forgotten keyword, here. Part of him knew that this damn job was going to hurt her ability to trust in him to some degree. He wondered how many times he could be forgiven; hopefully he had at least three full strikes.
"Behave yourself for me," she said, almost begging. "What brings you here, tonight?"
"Besides a kiss?" he asked in reply to her question. After a moment, he added, "I received a commission Government job. It was an intriguing offer; I have to talk to the guys before I agree. Who knows, maybe I can change my line of work, Carmelita. One day, Bentley and Penelope might be able to score a job with NASA, maybe Murray could get even further into the automotive world and … who knows, maybe I could score a job as a government agent and we could, you know," he wanted to say 'raise a family' but that would be rushing things a little.
"You could always come back and try Interpol again," she reminded him. "But a job is a sign of responsibility; I'm proud of you Sly," Carmelita told the man whose arms were enveloping her body; she buried her nose in the crook of his neck. It wasn't only the perfect place on the perfect crook, it was warm and she could inhale deeply of his scent. The scent of a man, especially one she was secretly in love with, was quite an inviting thing for a woman to behold. Her paws snuck passed the pillow, stopping at the hem of his shirt. Beneath it, he wore a t-shirt tonight and for some reason that made her grin.
Sly knew he had to break the bad news to her eventually. With a sigh of regret, he told her, "I can't stay much longer; I have to be in Lyon tomorrow. I'm going to the Embassy building for details on what they're gonna pay me for but I'll keep you in the loop more than I have over the last month and a half. I'm sorry I've not been around, I've just had a lot of things to get in order, after that last bout with Clockwerk." He lowered his eyes a bit then offered her a secret sort of smile. What she didn't know is that he had been thinking over something Panda King had told him…
As he recalled, King had said something to the effect of, "Cooper, if either of you died, the survivor would mourn both the loss of their soul mate and the relationship that never happened. Time spent apart is time lost that can never be retrieved." The old man had been right; Sly felt as though every day he wasn't dating Carmelita was time lost.
"I'll make you a deal," she told him. "If you don't cooperate, I'll handcuff you to my bedposts and make you sleep at my feet."
Cooper's chest was flush against her own, but they were still separated by the pillow she'd hugged in the hallway, earlier. "While that sounds inviting, if not fairly kinky, I'm curious as to what your 'plea bargain' could be."
"I want the t-shirt off your back before you leave," she said, referring to the shirt beneath his blue work shirt. Cooper tried not to chuckle, wanting to take her condition seriously.
After a moment, he finally said, "Deal." He had no idea what her plans for it consisted off but he wasn't about to argue, either.
Sly drew his head back, leaned forward to give her a quick, soft kiss upon her lips, then backed up a few steps and turned around. Her paws snaked back around the pillow she was holding, as if in substitution of his body. He faced away from her, lifting off both of his shirts, together. Carmelita sucked in her breath, slowly. His lower lumbar-area was sculpted and had athletic definition. His back muscles and the line of his spine, which her fingers simply itched to trace, were cut enough to take away her breath… he was an impressive gentleman specimen, on the edge of brawny, if he hadn't been so lithe.
He then lifted both shirts from over his head and pulled the t-shirt from the sweater. Her eyes danced over the shape of his well defined shoulders and the nape of his neck. Like a typical man, he balled up the shirt and wedged it between his knees then began to pull the sweater back down over his arms and head. He started to turn towards her, lifting his muzzle up and through the hole of the sweater. Toned abs and the chiseled definition of his chest were enough to make her swoon but she bit her tongue, watching him.
The sweater was drawn back down over his flesh and fur then he reached for the t-shirt between his knees and approached her with it. Part of him knew what it was that she had in mind with it… sure, she might wear it to bed tomorrow night, but he had another idea she was most likely already keen to do… Sly snatched the pillow from her, fitting it with his t-shirt. He then wedged it back into her arms, knelt to one knee before her and offered a grin up at her. He picked up his cap and flicked it off of his thumb so that it landed, squarely seated, upon his brow. He then snatched up the rose and stood up before her.
His paws lifted, sifting his fingers through the locks of her thick cobalt tresses. When he was done, the rose was in her hair and his paws trailed back down to either side of her face, cupping her cheeks once more. He leaned forward and placed a sensual kiss against her lips again. "I'm sorry for the lack of communication; it won't happen again. I worked through my boyish problems and I'm ready to move forward. I don't know how long this job will last but when I get back, we'll go and dance the night away in Bollywood, then eat curry until we're sick."
"You're behaving?" she asked one last time, wrapping her arms back around the pillow, now fitted with his t-shirt.
Cooper was careful and crafty in the way he worded his response. "I've not stolen a single thing since grabbing that Hate Chip from the Interpol server… before that, my last heist was before the amnesia."
"All right," she said. "Don't betray my trust, Sly." Her words struck his heart with a secret pang. He didn't want to but he was about to steal something for the American Government; whatever it was, they acted as though this object or artifact had the power to destroy or preserve world peace. Not only that, but it was his way of giving Carmelita the promotion he felt she'd deserved.
Sly nodded in reply; his response was calm and relaxed so as not to worry her. "I'll see you again, soon. Maybe even before the job is completely finished, hmm?" If only he could tell her about this new job! It was a damn shame that he had to keep that secret from her; it felt awkward. "Maybe tomorrow? I want to get back to where we left off when we were dating last year… Can I just say I'm your boyfriend again?"
Carmelita's threat was kinda cute in a way; she simply said, "If you break my heart and steal again, I'll lock you in the deepest, blackest dungeon – so help me God."
"If I do, I'll be the one needing God's help," Sly replied with a relaxed chuckle. He cupped her face, guided her head to lower just slightly and then placed a tender kiss against her forehead. He backed away from her, heading towards the window to the left of her bed. For the first time, she realized that it was open; obviously his method of entrance. The late afternoon wind had apparently died down to the point where she didn't even realize when one of her windows had been left wide open. It led out to the balcony right next to the adjacent door, which was locked solid. "You're really quite lovely, Carmelita. Stay just like that," he told her, taking one last look at her before somersaulting into a back-flip, through the window.
On the way over the edge of the balcony railing, he snatched his cane which hung from the banister, waiting for him. His free paw went up over his cap, holding it down on his head as his body began to pick up momentum, dropping down the side of her apartment building. His body was consumed for a moment by a purple and red awning above the main entrance to her apartment complex. He then bound upwards and off of it, in a back flip, which ended in him drawing out his parasail.
Sly soared across the main street and disappeared down a back alley, breaking into a sprint. He was just warming up, performing a quick self-training seminar so that he would be absolutely ready before taking on such a dangerous endeavor for the United States of America. After all, he wanted to be at the top of his game and a quick recap of acrobatics was his way of convincing himself that he was ready to accomplish that which Navy Seals had somehow, mysteriously, failed at. It was one of the biggest questions on his mind for tomorrow's interview; that was for damn sure! How could a team of Seals fail a mission? He knew that the road ahead was going to be difficult but the payoff was well worth it. After all, Carmelita said so, herself; a promotion would add greatly to her happiness… he wanted to provide that happiness and all-the-while help to keep her alive. Sly knew she'd be in some kinda danger, soon. After all, he knew before she knew that her Chief was going to assign her to the whole ordeal, tomorrow morning at work…
CHAPTER -1-
Finally!
Carmelita Montoya Fox, an arresting Inspector with Interpol in her mid-twenties, was just sitting down to her desk with a cup of coffee. Being that she was Latin-persuasion, or possibly just because of personal preference, she loved things hot. Not necessarily the temperature of the coffee, but she did enjoy an occasional tongue-tingling dish or drink. This coffee, however, was quite the opposite today; it was sweet. Sweeter than usual, Inspector Fox found that she'd woken up with a sweet tooth today and went for one of the more sugary concoctions on the "latte list" at the local coffee shop.
It hit the spot.
Inspector Fox reached for a set of glasses on her desk and, setting the coffee cup aside, she quickly began to clean the lenses on her shirt. She used them for reading small print on documents, else her vision was picture perfect, especially as far as her piloting license was concerned. Setting them at the bridge of her nose, she began to peruse the daily news, part of her routine before looking over the day's assignments. Besides, it was the beginning of the month…
…That meant it was time for snagging all the good cases. She stayed at her desk, watching people go passed the office, heading for the coffee machine. Once the sixth person went by, she knew that the statistical probability of being the first to the case request folder was the highest. If she went too early, people would see her making a bee-line for it and change direction. If they didn't feel threatened and headed for the coffee machine like a Monday-morning zombie, then she knew she could strike with success. How else would she guarantee herself all the cases with Sly Cooper involved? Really, she just wanted to make sure his name didn't pop up there, so she could be sure he was being honest to her. Why else would she buy expensive coffee from the corner store on a Monday morning? That Monday-morning corkboard was crucial.
The clever vixen left her newspaper and manila folders next to her coffee container, slipped out of the office and strolled down the hallway, heading for the corkboard next to the Chief's office. It was time to get her pick of the week done. Just as she'd thought; nobody was at the board – it was her time to strike!
Just as she passed the Chief's office, his head shot up. "Fox, get in here; I need to talk to you." She froze, clinching her paws tightly. She only had a window of opportunity on a Monday morning to get to that corkboard. Her eyes squinted, trying to read things off of it, while coming to a halt, in front of the Chief's open door. Well, at first glance, there was nothing to do with Cooper on the board but she needed to be closer, where she could make use of the glasses, to be sure. "Close the door behind yourself and pull up a chair," he continued.
The corner of her muzzle tugged back on the left side, in that "It figures" sort of expression. He lifted a paw as she came in, adding, "Wipe that smirk off of your muzzle, Inspector. I have an assignment for you; you won't even need that stupid board today."
"…Oh?" She was fairly intrigued but still wanted to glance at the board, just in case. What could she say? She was OCD about certain things in her everyday life. Slowly, almost melodramatically, Carmelita pulled the door shut then approached his table and sat down on the chair across the desk from him. The semi-annoyed vixen drew the spectacles from her face and held them out to the side in her left paw. "What's new, Chief?"
"Well," he rotated about in his chair and picked up a folder from atop of the file cabinet off to the side. Swiveling back to face her, he dropped the entire folder on the desk right in front of her face. "Since being reinstated from your suspension, we have to do an evaluation. You did perfectly fine on it; I noted that your 'obsessions' seemed to have cleared up and your temperament has, dramatically, improved overall. It seems to me that you needed that week off. A vacation is damn good for the mind, body and spirit, Inspector."
"Oh I assure you," Carmelita chuckled softly, stealing a glance at the digital clock on Chief Barker's desk – still five more minutes before the line at the coffee machine would thin out… "I did very little relaxing during that week." Damn right; she helped to stop Clockwerk again, fought more bad guys than she could keep count of and took a bullet. The reminder of that incident had her right paw sink down to the section of her torso where she'd taken the shot. It still ached on most days but, this morning, it had been forgotten about halfway through her morning jog; maybe Cooper's visit from last night had something to do with that. It hadn't been all that bad, lately; in fact, it usually didn't bother during those jogs anymore, so long as it wasn't raining.
So she hadn't relaxed during her suspension; he wondered what was going on in her personal life that could be better than taking a little personal time? But, to her explanation of not having relaxed during the week of her suspension, he could only nod. "So the rumors seem to suggest," the old canine muttered. "But anyhow," he continued, lifting his voice once more. "We have a report that five unidentified men, assumed to be part of some random thief guild, turned up dead. Execution-style endings for these guys; this quintet never had a chance, either. At first guess, we assumed they were military but so far, every country has denied them. Whether repudiated by someone powerful or whether they were just self-motivated mercenaries, these guys were peculiarly killed by people claiming to be museum guards."
Suddenly, Carmelita was more curious about this than the board, if only for a moment. "It sounds like you don't believe in that story for some reason," she replied, noting his tone of voice in the matter. He nodded in reply to her assumption.
"See, Fox, their recovered equipment suggests that this story is a lot of crap; a huge, stupid cover up story. Private mercenaries don't use the stuff that these guys were using." The Chief just shrugged.
Carmelita tilted her head. "What? High-tech, high end stuff? Something hard to obtain?" She was pretty sure that most mercenaries used illegally modified high-tech stuff, anyhow. The Chief shook his head and shrugged.
"No," said Barker. "The exact opposite. A bunch of MacGyver's running around, using toothpicks to replicate friggin' …Primacord. Mercenaries don't substitute successful, well tested equipment for a bunch of sticks and stones. Third world terrorists usually acquisition powerful explosives out of cheap materials, but these guys were being purposefully primitive; someone is hiding something and I'm sending you to investigate who they were, what they were trying to take from the museum, and go from there."
"When do I leave, Chief?" Carmelita raised her brows.
Barker's tone was curt. "Pack your bags, Inspector Fox. Come back by the office when you're finished and we'll give you some gear and your plane tickets."
"Where am I headed?" she asked. It was a whirlwind event and she still wanted to take a quick glance at the corkboard, just to check up on Cooper and make sure he didn't make the list.
"Home to get your things," Barker said, blowing off her question about location at this point. She stood up, took the folder of evaluation papers and went for the door then began to make a left towards the corkboard. "Carmelita! The exit is on your right," he said, not wanting her to dillydally. It was rare that he used her first name, especially when reprimanding her.
Carmelita Fox froze in the doorway, weighing her options. Should she tell him that she thought she left her coffee down the hallway to the left or should she just claim she was heading for the bathroom? She opened her muzzle to offer the excuse only for Barker to repeat his very last statement one more time. She then turned to the right, away from the corkboard and headed off down the hall. She would just have to trust that his name wasn't up there and that he wasn't stealing right now. Trust… it wasn't easy but she would have to do it eventually, or the future outcome of a possible relationship was already a sunken ship before it could even leave the metaphorical port.
The raccoon was waiting on her bed again, lying across the mattress with his head propped up on his palm. He heard the front door lock tumbler sliding out of place; a grin tugged at the corner of his muzzle. No rose today, he was simply here to say goodbye. Once the door to the bedroom opened, his grin widened into a genuine smile. He could see her eyes lighting up again and it caused his heart to beat a little faster.
She'd developed such a public façade of being a hard liner that it almost seemed taboo to know this side of her. She approached the bed, lifting her arms and he rose to meet her, drawing her into his embrace. "Well, you're home early," Sly said with an innocent tone. He saw her leaving the station, after all. He roof-walked here in order catch her by surprise. "New assignment?" asked the raccoon.
"You're quite clever aren't you?" Carmelita inquired, melting into his arms. Her face touched the soft fur of his neck and, for a moment, her mandate was forgotten. She was in love with being in love and it showed; she got everything she wanted, it was as good as she'd hoped it would be and it made her silly with happiness. She wasn't even the same Carmelita anymore… Sly Cooper made her feel like a woman and with the change in her demeanor, she had opened her heart totally and completely to him, naïvely displaying every part of herself to the one she now called 'boyfriend'.
Sly, on the other paw, was pleased to bring out this side of her. He was equally pleased to see that she could finally experience some sort of personal joy. He'd always known she had a smile, as he'd seen it on the helicopter over a bottle of wine, after Clockwork was destroyed, around the time that Bentley had been injured. He also knew that it only took one kiss to undo the knots in her heart; he personally experienced that back in Russia after defeating Clockwerk the first time. Now, he could experience her laughter, her joy and see the woman actually, proudly feeling… well… girly. Would it last forever?
It was an accomplishment for them both to bring her to such a level and Sly was empathetic enough to see that she surrendered to the joy, for the first time ever. His paws came up to her cheeks, guiding her into a kiss. Carmelita, the new and happy vixen, had a blissful look upon her visage, surrendering to the control of his touch. The kiss was divine.
He dipped his arms beneath hers, swooped her up, and marched forwards until her back met the wall. A playful groan erupted from his throat, pinning her up against the supporting plaster bulkhead, mischievously pressing his body flush to her own. She gasped in sheer excitement and, so very unlike her, a squeal of glee squeaked out of her throat. Her knees rested on either side of his hips and her complete and total trust and confidence in him was understood with her body language.
"Behave," She chided playfully, "Some things can wait until marriage… Oh, but when that happens, your tail is mine." Her eyes gazed down upon him, fondly.
"Plan to wear me out?" Sly inquired, suddenly taking on an innocent look, staring up into her soft amber orbs.
"Careful now, Sly," she replied, feigning a casual air, "Your horns are making your halo crooked, lover." She gasped as a kiss returned to her lips only to sigh in content through her nose. Her body relaxed a bit and her eyelids fluttered half-way shut. She didn't want to actually allow the word 'dreamy' to enter her mind but there it was, being a cliché thought. How could everything have all turned out so perfectly, especially after only one day back in each other's life? She couldn't be sure but she believed in it and the power of her faith and love were rather considerable.
The kiss lasted another moment, her body growing flush with an uncomfortable, tight ache building in her gut and thighs; oh but how she longed for relief from that physical desire – a relieving release that would consume her flesh in a way only spouses shared between one another. She had the patience to become a wife first but the desire still bubbled in her body; Sly and Carmelita had curiously powerful chemistry together. She yearned to take him, to have him and to hold him as spouses do… but for now, she would wait. Her thoughts turned to what their future wedding night might be like and it gave her shivers.
Sly maneuvered his lips down from her lips, over her neck, working his way down to her collarbone. She arched her back instinctively, panting softly. "S-sly, I've got a f-flight, baby. C'mon, Ringtail; don't tease. Go get a ring; we'll make the napkins pink and the guests can hire their own DJ." Of course, her words were more than a subtle hint towards marriage. The sooner they married, the sooner she could give herself to him and with the way she was feeling right this moment, she wanted that marriage to start as soon as possible.
"I see you're as turned on as I am," Sly whispered against her upper chest. His paws were exploring in a way that set her body on fire with adoration, love and desire. At all the same time, she reached her paws down to his wrists, to keep him from going any further. Sly looked up at her, resting his chin on her bosom, his eyes shining like a faithful puppy dog. "I love you," He said.
Oh god how those words made her undone. It was obvious in her eyes that she replaced her old 'cop obsession' with utter adoration for him. Her muzzle parted and a smile was painted upon those passion-bruised lips. "I love you, too. N-now put me down, dammit. I've got a plane to catch and now, thanks to you, I need a shower so I can freshen up." Part of her felt as though this romance was going too fast but… they'd had a six month romance once before and to his credit, he'd completely changed his lifestyle for her… could it be so wrong to just indulge herself for once?
"Oh yeah?" Sly said, grinning deviously. His warm breath rustled the fur at the base of her neck; he knew he owned every fiber of her this very instant. His apatite for her was born out of the love that she returned. He wanted to make her his mate and, with her less-than-subtle hints, he had already picked out a ring to give once the job was finish. But now they were both going on a mission and he knew he might not survive.
The problem was, Sly Cooper debated over whether he should wait and give it to her if he lived to see her face again or if he should be selfish and propose now. Of course, being a thief, he had a little more selfishness in his blood than the average person.
"It's your own fault," she muttered, chiding him. "No ring, no swing." She then leaned to kiss the top of his head as if apologizing but, she knew that he had to sense the arousal in her; the vixen's scent told that much.
"Oh no," Sly said, guiding her body down the wall. Her tail slid against it in friction, until her luxuriously furry brush was between her spine and the wall he'd pinned her to. He continued to lower more, causing her heart to race as his head lowered near her thighs. It was a dirty thought but she couldn't quite help it at the moment; she was turned on and all manner of images were running through her mind. When her feet touch the floor, Sly continued to draw back, still lowering himself, until he was on one knee. "Carmelita," he whispered to her, "I wanted this to be a personal moment… just us, just our love. I'm here because I'm selfish and I'm going to do that job… I don't know how long it will take but I wanted you to know that I will be back and you can trust that feeling…"
He gazed up at her, watching her blink for a moment. Was she curious? Did she not comprehend? Was she simply shocked? She was a woman and so he assumed that she already knew what he was about to do. He reached into his pocket and drew out a velvet box. "I know it's early and I know we've gone a ridiculously long time without talking to each other since our last incursion and… before that, a year at odds. But I think we both had an epiphany and as fast as we've moved in the last two days, we're right were we left off, a year ago after we started dating. From the night I realized this, after you helped me defeat Doctor M, to the night we first held and kissed under the stars, to the night we attended the police ball together… it feels like everything is just as pure and twice as powerful as it was the first time around. And so, I have no problems racing into this… I want to show you a symbol of my affection and love for you… and I didn't even steal it… I purchased it the old fashion way… by earning up some money."
Of course, he actually invested a little bit of the inheritance and used the return to make such a purchase. It's as legal as he could have made the money become, without getting a low-wage job. Her eyes glistened; he could see the twinkling in her gaze. The box was pried open with his thumb, keeping it held up and presented to her. Carmelita looked pale and faint but her goofy, adorable smile told him that this was going in the right direction. Part of him wanted to make a joke as he always did but
"So, before I leave for this honest work, an actual job, I wanted to give to you … this token… of my feelings." The ring was just… celestial. Sapphires that matched her hair lined either side of the ring band, with a large diamond mounted at the top center. He'd rehearsed some poetry for this very moment but it came out without rhyme or reason. "It matches the flowing indigo of your hair and the twinkle in your eyes. Your beauty would compliment this ring quite well, if you choose to wear it." She began to reach her left paw out for it. He pulled it back, just a bit, then added, "But only if you agree to marry me…?"
Carmelita, suddenly realizing that she was actually reaching for the opulent ring, paused for a moment. Her left hand was half-extended to him and her heart was just going crazy; as if it were about to beat right out of her chest. She took a moment, swallowed her pride and her giddiness then, slowly, spread her fingers apart and simply said, "Yes. I give you permission to make me Mrs. Cooper." She was on the verge of just trembling; her eyes followed his paw as he drew the ring out, lifted it to her left paw… Her chest welled up with pride, hope and happiness, feeling the cool metal being slid down over her left ring finger.
Once the ring was all the way on, her right paw lanced out and seized his wrist. His eyes lifted and she glared down into his with a devious grin. Her lips parted; the delicious silvery tone just rolled over her tongue, "You and me, shower - now." She had no intentions of losing her virginity just yet but as far as finally being with him in nothing but flesh and fur… and as far as putting her paws all over him… she was ready to make one intensely passionate scene with her future husband… at least until the hot water heater runs out; then again, her apartment had a sixty gallon tank and her shower nozzle was the water-saving kind that lasted all afternoon…
She did have a plane to catch but it wasn't like there was only one flight out of Paris International Airport. As far as Carmelita was concerned, she could be… fashionably late just once in her life. After all, she'd waited long enough to know what it felt like to have a man's lips caress every inch of her body. Now suddenly seemed like an especially good time for it… She wouldn't be completely nude before him… after all, she would be wearing a ring on her finger, right?
A/N: Whoa! Intense first chapter! Did I actually BEGIN a story with an ENGAGEMENT ring? Yes! Some of you are going "ARE YOU KIDDING? Carmelita and Sly are ENEMIES! I don't CARE if they're romantic at the end of Sly 3! They broke up and that's how Lament of Carmelita was supposed to go! What happened to them NOT rushing into one another's arms? What gives, Kit? You betrayed me!" And that's fine. I'm not making the entire story a HUGE romance novel! (only some of it! Hehe)
Much like my own romance, there are going to be some serious bumps along the way. My marriage may have ended in divorce only 4 months after it began… but I've been TRYING to get her back and this story is actually meant to be symbolic to me. There will be many parallels to my own marriage and divorce and the love is only the subplot by far. The main plot will BE what Sly is trying to steal and what Carmelita is trying to stop him from stealing. The artifact in question may cause a little animosity and complaining but it's my story, it's my storyline and it's my imagination! No more "Dan Brown" references, please! XD I'm not as rich as Dan Brown and so drawing parallels when I've not even read his work means nothing! LOL
No, they're not going after the Holy Grail; it's a three thousand year old chunk of stone and iron. If you haven't already figured it out, don't worry about it just yet… I'm still debating on making that the artifact. If you HAVE figured it out, don't go and spoil it! And yes, I'm that tenacious lol. SO anyway, get your emotional heart strings tightened up and secured; it's going to be a bumpy Rollercoaster Of Love (say what?), Rollercoaster!
OKAY so what did you think of how I begin the SEQUEL?