I do not own the Sly Cooper games or any of the characters in them. This story is timed after the second game. The idea popped into my head and wouldn't go away, so I wrote it down.

For the Children

Constable Shelly watched as the Inspector walked up, and glanced down at the children of all kinds who crowded around her, some hiding behind her large squirrel's tail, others just standing close. She had been talking to them for a while, and they had agreed to talk to the Inspector, but Shelly could not blame them for the wide-eyed looks they gave her. She was a fox, a tall, beautiful woman, and she knew it, but she was also a rock hard Interpol cop, and it showed in her walk, in her restless eyes, and in her face. Then she saw the children, and she hesitated, unsure of herself. The children saw that, and began to relax. It was clear that Inspector Carmelita Fox was not used to dealing with children. Glancing around, the inspector's eyes lit on the playground equipment and she walked that way, waving the children over. Constable Shelly followed. The Inspector started to sit on a see-saw and almost fell flat on her butt, starting the children giggling. She managed to smile and sat on the merry-go-round instead. The Constable introduced her, and asked the children to talk. When they mentioned the nice man that began coming weeks ago, the Inspector's attention was caught, and the children noticed and kept talking.

They called him "Mr. Vester." They had seen him running in the park, and some of the braver boys had raced him on their bikes, until he went into some of the alleys where they did not go. Mr. Vester found that funny. Then one day he came and one of the children, Lissa, a cute little kitten, had a kite stuck in a tree. He climbed up and got it. They had tried to climb too, and he scolded them, telling them that he had learned to climb on his job and they should never, ever try until they were trained too; he told them one of his friends had a broken back from doing more than he could manage, and the children listened. He played soccer with them, all of them against him, and it took them a long time to figure out how to beat him. Now, the older boys bragged, they beat everyone at school. The Inspector had to turn her head for a moment to hide the smile, but she was listening closely. Constable Shelly was feeling silly. Then the Inspector asked why the children never went into the alleys.

They gathered closer and whispered, and their nervous fear was real. Once they played there a lot. Then the mean men came, and chased them away. They had poked once or twice into an alley, and been yelled at; one of the kids got hurt; and there were dead pets found there. Mr. Vester asked too. He looked mad when they told him, then said they were smart children and not to go near the alleys, and not long after the constable had come. Constable Shelly tried not to wilt; the children had not told her this. Inspector Fox then solicited a description. Mr. Vester always wore sunglasses, and they had not seen his eyes. He had rings on his tail. They thought he was as tall as the Inspector Fox or maybe taller. On this they were unsure. He could climb anything and was very fast and strong. She asked what he wore. At this they agreed. He dressed like everybody, nothing special. The Inspector thanked the children, and jerked her head for the Constable to follow her. Feeling small- the Inspector towered over the squirrel constable- she obeyed.

To her shock, the Inspector said,"Excellent work, Constable." At Shelley's stunned look, she shook her head. "He is a raccoon, yes? He hides his eyes, yes? He is very fast, strong, and climbs well. There is an excellent chance this is Sylvester Cooper, master thief. I hadn't seen or heard of him in months. I'd wondered where he could be."

"Sylvester? Of course, Mr. Vester! But-but- a thief? Playing with children? And it sounds like he made the report that brought me here."

"And would most local constables have connected the Master Thief, however uncertainly, to the nice man in the park?" the constable asked, amused. "For all you know, you may have already spoken to him. And at this time he is very busy stealing everything those 'mean men' possess that he can lay hands on, until the problem is discovered. I have made a good portion of my arrests chasing Sly Cooper. You see, he claims to steal only from other criminals, that nothing else is a challenge." She sighed. "And he hates to see innocents hurt. I will ask to join your investigation." Her eyes swept the area. "We will see what we find, shall we? You will find what the mean men are hiding, and I will see if Mr. Vester is a thief or not. "

Confused, Constable Shelly nodded.

Inspector Fox was tireless. Constable Shelly kept up grimly; despite working so hard she was ill in the mornings and falling asleep instantly at night. Her husband, a solid squirrel with a nut shop, urged her to slow down, but she was getting more worried as the investigation went on. Clues were appearing. It looked like the warehouse near the park was a center for illegal weapons and dangerous, experimental ammunition. Tension grew as plans for raiding the warehouse developed. The evidence was solid. Some of the clues seemed to be a little obvious, leading her to wonder why she had not seen them earlier. . Inspector Fox checked and rechecked these clues, but never said why.

Suddenly word came that one of the children had disappeared. Lissa had gotten too close to the alley, chasing a ball, and was grabbed, the other children said. They were frightened and crying. The hunt began, and went on into dark. Shelly was searching with the rest, and she found the child's shoe. At her call, the sergeant and his SWAT team appeared. "She has to be in there," Shelly told them, her voice quivering just a bit, and indicated the warehouse. She was frightened herself, both for the child and because she had not been near a raid like this before; she had basic training but not their training. They nodded, and plans were made; to her relief, she was to be the communicator and to deal with Lissa when she was found. She would be a liability with their trained team, they told her, stay out of the way and let them handle the fighting. They would get the child to her, and she would take the child to safety. Out of nowhere, from inside the warehouse were shouts, screams, and an audible bellow," Where's the ammunition!" In all the mayhem, there were few shots.

"Music to my ears," the sergeant, a sad-looking bloodhound, said, and they started to move, when a weasel reared up from an upstairs balcony, holding a kitten by her shirt over the edge.

"Move and she drops," he roared. The child's whimpers were audible in the sudden silence. "Set bayonets, boys!" Then a shadow detached itself behind the weasel and struck the arm, snatching the child as it went and disappearing again.

Behind him there was a shout, "Cooper!" and Inspector Fox appeared, almost tripping over the weasel. Bedlam broke loose as wharf rats, the weasel, and the police clashed.

Constable Shelly was in shock from how everything exploded when a tiny voice said,"Constable?" She turned, to have a small body shoved into her arms. Lissa clung to the constable with all her might. Shelly heard shouting. The thugs were trying to break through.

"Ah, company. Run, Constable, I'll cover you," a voice said from the shadows. She saw a slim raccoon holding a scythe shaped weapon. She glanced behind her once, saw thugs, and ran. Behind her she heard the sounds of a fight, then running. Sometimes a hard hand grabbed her arm and moved her faster. She ran, as the child clung and sobbed and the raccoon beside her gave brief directions and some encouragement between fights. Finally he said," We're clear here, Constable." He started to say something else when she shoved Lissa at him and took two steps to throw up. She heard hasty footsteps away. When she had stopped, they approached. By this time she could see they were once again in the park. She moved to a bench and collapsed on it, joined by Lissa. She found some slight amusement at how quickly he put the child down. "Better?" he asked. She could see him now, though poorly. His eyes were surrounded by a mask, and his clothes and coloring were made to blend him with the night. She nodded weakly. "Can you make it to help?" She shook her head. She could not have moved another step. "What about your communicator?" She searched, but could not find it.

"You have a baby in your tummy, like Mama. Mama gets sick too, Mr. Vester," the little girl explained very seriously. "I want my mama."

There was a shout behind them, sounding like the name the Inspector had shouted earlier. "Here's your help. Good-bye, Lissa, Inspector Fox will get you to the hospital and your mama," said 'Mister Vester.' He moved so that he was invisible in the shadow. He raised his voice. "Constable, you should be off the streets until that baby's born." And he was gone as the Inspector charged up, saw the two on the bench, and skidded to a halt. She was uncertain, gun up, her temper obviously flaring, but glancing at the two and then at the shadow in the trees. "Much as I would like to play, my lovely Carmelita, those two need a hospital."

"You can't run forever, Cooper," she shouted, to the darkness that was now only darkness. "I'll get you!" Then she looked at the child huddled against the wilting constable, and holstered her shock pistol. "Later," she added, and pulled out her communicator to call for help.

Several months later, Constable Shelly was strolling on her day off, carrying her baby. It was a beautiful day, and she was enjoying an hour or so without pressing responsibilities. Having just been fed, the little one was looking around curiously, and Shelly noticed she was smiling at someone. Turning, the constable saw a raccoon in wrap-around sunglasses, looking at the child and smiling. She smiled back at him. "Beautiful baby," he said. "Boy or girl?" She knew the voice instantly; otherwise she would have doubted her memory.

"Girl," she said, "Mr. Vester."

"You're quick," he commented. "I was just passing." He started to turn.

"I owe you, and I'm off duty with a baby. I can't try anything." she said quickly. He hesitated. . "And- and I've always wanted to say thank you. It's not like you're easy to send a note to. "

He laughed. "No. I'm afraid my address would change pretty quickly if you could. And you're welcome." She began moving again, and the raccoon paced her. "And how is the little girl?"

"Very well, and learning gymnastics so she can move like Mr. Vester." He laughed. "Inspector Fox is still looking for you; she was in Switzerland the last I heard." He only smiled. "Do you always flirt with her when she finds you?"

"Of course, it adds spice."

"You know, you're really a decent person, Mr-"

"Please, call me Sly, the other stuff wears thin fast."

"- Sly, you didn't have to save the child or cover us or stay with us until we were safe. Why a thief? "

"Do you always dance around the subject, or take forever to get to the point?" Then, to her surprise, he grew serious. "I come from a long line of master thieves. We've passed our techniques on for generations. We've always stolen from other criminals. That way you know you're a master thief. Besides, it's more fun that way. More challenge, and they usually have plenty of money, and normal, everyday people don't get hurt."

"Isn't it dangerous?"

"Life is dangerous, Constable. Lissa was chasing a ball. People break their backs slipping on ice. Cars crash every day." But behind the bravado she had hit a nerve; he had winced.

"And, in addition to that, you face thugs, security traps, and Inspector Fox, and spend your life hiding behind sunglasses and masks. Is it worth it? " She half expected him to leave, but he stayed, walking with her, thinking.

Then, when they reached a small park, with benches and a fountain, he said, "Inspector Fox is honest. So are you. No all of law enforcement is. So, there are times when even the police need someone outside the law.

"I'll admit the clues you dropped were useful." Those clues had convicted the weasel and his gang without any trouble at all.

"You're too sharp, Constable. I hope you're not on my case."

She did not tell him she had read his police file. "Interpol offered me a job as Inspector Fox's assistant. I refused." She had been disappointed, but Shelly refused to chase a man she did not want to arrest.

"I thank you, then. I enjoy a challenge, but the two of you might have been tough." He said it flippantly, but she could tell he meant it.

"You must enjoy danger, teasing Inspector Fox and that pistol of hers. You said you come from a long line of thieves. Are you married?"

"That, madam, is a challenge I am certainly not ready for, nor the one you have there!" By this time the baby was asleep and looked adorable. "I've lived in an orphanage; I know infants don't always look like that!"

"How do you know about your family line if you were raised in an orphanage?" He held his hand into the water, and then shook it off. She admitted to herself he was a fine figure of a man; it explained why Inspector Fox kept so many pictures of him. Then he told her how his parents had been killed when he was eight, and going to the orphanage.

"My father told me stories from babyhood, likely this one's age and started training me when I started to walk." It was easy to tell he had had a very happy childhood until his parent's deaths.

"Aren't you lonely?" This time the wince was more pronounced even as he shook his head." What happened?"

"Someone got hurt last time, a good friend."

"The one you told the children of?" She did see, now, why he was not doing anything. She had shared Carmelita's puzzlement over Cooper's lying low for so long, and his appearance in such a quiet area. Now she understood that he was caring for his friend, who would need quiet and to remain in one place for a time. How unusual for a thief to care that much for his gang members. "Will he recover?"

"He'll live. He won't walk."

"I'm sorry."

"So are we, but life goes on."

"What happened to the ammunition?"

"Very good, Constable, no one else seemed to notice. We returned it to the government facility that lost it, for a finder's fee. They destroyed it. "

"I think everyone expected you to use it. " The sun went behind a cloudbank, and seemed to shadow his face.

"I don't use firearms-too unpredictable, and too messy. I prefer my staff. "

"You should be a cop. You and Carmelita would make a great team. Besides, from what she says, you work well together when there's need, or," she grinned, "when you're dancing."

His burst of laughter roused the baby, who complained a moment, then grabbed for his sunglasses. He managed to get her hand off, but not before the constable saw his upper face. "I wish I could be around if you said that to Carmelita!" He straightened his glasses. "She'd melt in rage!"

"She says you're an overgrown little boy who's going to get himself killed one day playing deadly games. It's why she hunts you. "

For a moment he looked dumbfounded. Then he glanced over the square, and said, "It's been pleasant, Constable, but I'm afraid I must say goodbye, someone familiar is headed this way. Take care." And he was gone, as Shelley heard her name called. Shelly turned and waved, then waited while the baby tried to catch the water.

"Back from Switzerland?" she asked, as Carmelita caught up.

"Yes. It was an old trail. The hospital is very puzzled, they were paid in full-expensive care, too- and then discovered their records are completely gone of anything, computer or paper, that would identify the patient, except an odd card. "Carmelita displayed it; it was a stylized raccoon face in deep blue and black. "I have seen many of them." The baby grabbed for it, and Carmelita let her have it. "Chew it up," she advised the baby, "and leave my hair alone." The baby had attached herself to Carmelita's hair before. Shelly giggled. "Who was that? He looked familiar."

Shelly shrugged. "Did he? We just spoke in passing." She began moving back home. Carmelita took the baby and held her up to make her laugh as they walked.