A/N & Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to any of the characters that are affiliated with Sucker Punch Productions (2002-05), Nihilistic Software (2011), and/or Sanzaru Games (2012-Present). I do however, own their products and highly recommend to those who don't, to please support the creators of the franchise. The portrayal of their characters in this fan fiction is just that, of fiction; they do not in any way reflect the "actual-true fictional storyline" created by the *stated above* developers of the Sly Cooper franchise.

Now that I have gotten the formalities out of the way, I hope to all those who are reading, enjoyed reading this as much as I did writing it. This will be my first submission to this website so feel free to leave any and all comments, reviews, suggestions, and questions. Thank you.

Chapter One: As Sly as a fox

The Louvre Museum is one of the world's largest museums, is said to be the most visited art museum in the world, and is itself a historic monument. The museum houses over twenty thousand pieces of art from around the globe, and is the home of some of the most unique and valuable works that have earned them the term of "masterpieces."

Liberating one or two would go unnoticed, right?

Musée du Louvre, Paris, France – 3:32am

The would-be thief traded speed for stealth. After lock picking and getting in through the ceiling window; eased down to the ground below. The silent figure crept down the adjacent corridor and made a right into the classical wing. It was raining cats and dogs outside, other than the occasional flash of lightning and thunderous boom that followed shortly after, inside the museum was dark and silent. It was like that of the Edgar Allan Crow poem: once upon a midnight dreary…

As the thief continued to fantasize what other similarities this evening had with the dead laureate's poem, that thought was interrupted with the sudden sound of shuffling and the faint metallic clink of keys.

Back to the wall, enveloped in darkness, and watched as a cone of light, followed by a security detail passed the thief's position. The guard waded into the wing, briefly glancing left, then to the right. It wasn't until another flash of lightning lit up the darken gallery did the sheer size of the guard became so predominant; he was a massive.

The cloaked figure took a glance at the passage the guard came through. It was a long straight corridor, and down at the end of said corridor was the goal.

Seconds felt like hours as the thief patiently waited for the Brobdingnagian creature to move along but it felt content to stay in that room, to plant itself in the middle just a few paces away. What are my choices here? Sneak by and risk getting caught? Or continue to conceal myself and hope he doesn't turn around? Both of which didn't sit well.

Finally settling on a course of action, the thief decided to take a more aggressive approach. Even if the gargantuan were to decide to mosey along, not knowing if he will come back is an issue; especially if he does in fact return catching the thief red-handed with the painting in hand. A law breaker's worst enemy is Murphy's Law after all.

The guard was now fiddling with his flashlight as it had suddenly gone out. This, the thief took as a blessing and started to move out of the shadows. Trading stealth for speed, knowing that there might be only an instant before the guard checked behind him, and in fact as the thief reached him, he was just beginning to turn. But too late.

Something from the shadows leaped into him, planting its left foot in the small of his back as though trying to climb a steep set of stairs. His body bowed violently forward and his head and arms flew back, and a startled grunt, loud enough for anyone nearby to hear, forced itself from his lungs. As he plunged to his knees, the shadowy figure wrapped an arm… no something hooked and metallic? around his neck and wrenched backwards. In this position the guard began to fear for his life; he couldn't resist even if he wanted to, he feared that any more pressure and his neck would snap like kindling.

His vision began to blur. Just moments ago his eyes were filled with fear and his head full of questions, now glazed over and refused to cooperate. It wasn't much longer before the world blacked out, only to hear "bonne nuit" before the world went deafly quiet.

The thief eased the guard to the ground. Checked for a pulse, and was glad to find one. Stealing valuable works of art was one thing, but taking something that was priceless? For example: someone's life? That's way out of this thief's personal repertoire.

Once again, back up against the wall. The thief listened for any signs of movement in response to the commotion that just happened moments ago. After giving a mental green light, the thief snuck down the corridor and stopped at the entrance of the room at the end. It only took but a brief glance around the room to find what the thief was looking for.

There it was, hanging on the posterior wall in all of its glory; the best known, the most visited, the most written about, the most sung about, the most parodied work of art in the world; La Madonna Gioconda, or more famously known to the western world; the Mona Lisa.

The thief did a quick scan of the surrounding area and noticed a low hum being emitted from the room. Taking an aerosol can out of the knapsack, and lightly shooting small puffs of it straight up, overhead. Leaving gravity to do its work, the cloud settled to the ground, and faint red lines appeared.

It would appear that this room in particular had additional security measures installed, not surprising seeing as how someone simply waltz out with the priceless work of art those many years ago. Just like how it'll happen again tonight.

The thief started breathing more deeply, and slowly concentrating on the task at hand. With steeled will, the low droning hum was blocked out, and in its place, the room itself seemed to call out to the thief. The walls cried out "Scale me!" The rafters above, as if instructing the thief "Run along me!" Even the narrowest of points on the chandelier that hung from the ceiling spoke out "Jump and perch on me!"

Small flashing lights lit up all across the room, "indicators" the thief now called them, areas where the thief could use some honed technique to progress through, treat the area like a stage to be conquered and to be rewarded upon reaching the goal.

And the thief did just that.

Acrobatics that one would normally see from some rehearsed circus act. Feats of strength as the thief climbed the vertical walls with ease. Tests of agility and dexterity as the thief scaled and made gravity defying jumps and landing with pinpoint precision on areas too tiny to be able to hold an anthropomorphic animal. If anyone were to see this, they would be struck dumbfounded with the absurdity of it all. Yet, it has been done, and as quickly as it was started, the thief landed back at the entrance soundlessly and with a satisfied smirk appearing, nonchalantly waltzed back down the corridor.

The thief returned to the "entrance" and fastened the painting to the wire. Gave it a slight tug to check if it was secure and gave a nod of approval. The thief couldn't help but smirk again. All in all, tonight was an all-round success.

That is, if you take away the part where the thief had to go toe to toe with a five-hundred pound gorilla.

Speaking of which, why was there a five-hundred pound gorilla working security detail? Gorillas were usually selected for higher profile security gigs, like protecting the president of the United States or working at inter… oh crap.

There was the sound of a weapon charging that resonated from behind.

"Slowly turn around and Step away from the painting."

The thief did as instructed and turned to face the voice, to no surprise the voice belonged to the world renowned inspector of Interpol; Carmelita Montoya Fox.

"I won't say it again, Step. Away. From. The painting, ringtail." The voice repeated in a more serious and staunched manner which accentuated her Latin accent.

"Don't you mean to say; s'éloigner de la peinture? After all, we are in Parisafter all… chica."

From her body language it was obvious the inspector was shocked. She had been obviously expecting someone else, but in return a female voice answered back. She stopped moving forward and now stood in place, head slightly tilted, ears perked forward as if to say: Did I just hear that correctly?

"However, I don't know how to say 'ringtail' in French." The thief goaded, enjoying every minute of this.

Snapping back into reality after being mocked, the same determined expression returned to Carmelita's face. Now standing in the traditional Weaver stance, shock pistol leveled and pointed at the perpetrator's chest.

"You're not Cooper, who are you? Step forward into the light where I can see you, no sudden movements and place your hands atop your head."

The perp humored her and placed her hands up on the back of her head, but did not move.

"Such a demanding woman… whatever does Sly see in you? And to think that his ideal woman was someone as controlling as you, I didn't know he was such a Masoch…"

Carmelita interrupted with a shot that was now represented by the singed hole not more than a few inches away from perp.

"You're under arrest for the attempted theft of a priceless work of art, and the assault of an Interpol agent. I swear to you, if Lieutenant Gronk is…"

Now it was Carmelita's turn to be interrupted.

"Oh, so that lummox did belong to you. Not to worry though, all I did was knocked him out."

"And it goes by the name of Gronk? Appropriate I suppose... and you're telling me it's a lieutenant? Well I must say, if that's the best you got then it's no surprise the Cooper gang keeps slipping from your grasps." The thief scoffed.

"You speak as if you're familiar. What's your association with them?"

"Oh, Sly and I have a… history together. Nothing I can divulge of course, a man and a woman's past together should be best kept secret. Wouldn't you agree?"

The thief could see the inspector's fur standing on ends, her ears perked upwards ruffling her otherwise well groomed blue hair, her nose flared, and a low growl began to escape her lips. However, even though her façade failed to maintain its composure, she showed a lot of willpower to keep her emotions under control, and it was keeping her temper in check. The thief was impressed.

But enough fun and mind games, she was pressed for time after all.

"Should I tell him you said 'Hola?' Or maybe call him by the pet name you gave him, 'ringtail' perhaps?

The low growl grew louder as the thief continued to speak, which amused the thief immensely.

Oh, I know! Maybe the classic simple shock pistol blast will be sufficient? It's been, I guess you can say a long time since we last saw one another, too long if I could be perfectly honest."

"You say that as if you're getting out of this." Snarled Carmelita.

"Oh, but I am." The thief smirked.

Suddenly the thief made a grab at the wire and pressed the "retract" button on her harness. Carmelita didn't hesitate; she barked her repeated orders of "cease and desist" and then opened fire. However, in the split second timeframe it took for the Shock pistol to register the trigger being pulled, to charge up a shock pulse, to being fired was long enough for the thief to throw something in the line of fire. What was that coming towards her? Is that… a can?

Carmelita instinctively dove for cover.

The explosion that ensued reverberated throughout the ground level of the Louvre, lighting up the interior with a ball of fire.

Thankfully the explosion didn't amount to much. Whatever was inside that can, was flammable but had low combustibility, probably aerosol?

Carmelita looked around and assessed that in the aftermath, the damage done by the explosion was minimal. She cursed under her breath and hit the communication device on her shoulder.

"This is Inspector Montoya Fox…" Carmelita spoke into the walkie talkie.

A slight fluttering sound came from above; she looked up and saw a black card falling. She reached up and snatched it out of the air; on it, was a profile silhouette of a fox with two silver letters engraved on the top: A.C

"This is Winthorp, what can I do for you Carmelita?"

"Get me inspector Barkley." Carmelita released the contact button and sighed. She slipped the calling card into her jacket pocket.

"He's not going to be happy about this…" and went to check on her lieutenant.

A/N: Well hopefully you enjoyed the first chapter. This took about an hour or so to write, another hour or so to review and revise… but one can only do so much to correct his own grammar. Again I would like point out that this is my first post on an online forum, so any and all comments, reviews, suggestions, and questions are highly appreciated. I thank you all in advance and hope you'll look forward to the next chapter. – J.L