After reading an article on Thieves In Time, in a magazine, I couldn't get this idea out of my head.

I don't own Sly Cooper or the rest of the gang.

Chapter 1: Cooper Confesses

Late evening in Paris. The sun had set. The dark had crept over the city. The crisp breeze gently ruffled the grey fur of a notorious master thief.

Sly Cooper had spent the last year living a lie. It wasn't a big lie, not by his reasoning. Just a harmless little fib, really. One that had kept him out of prison, and had landed him in the arms of the woman of his dreams.

Their relationship had started out innocently enough. A little harmless flirting. A quick kiss. But, after a while he found himself doing more than just teasing and ogling her. His little crush had become a desire for something more.

Life with the object of his obsession had been better than he ever could have imagined it. And all it had cost him was his family legacy.

A blow taken to shield a woman who had devoted her life to putting criminals (like himself) behind bars, had given him an opportunity that he just couldn't pass up. All he had to do was play possum, and fake amnesia. Imagine his surprise when she responded with a lie of her own.

In the beginning it had seemed worth the sacrifice. But, the guilt had been eating at him. Reminding him that his untruth could be exposed. That everything they had built together could fall apart.

Inspector Carmelita Montoya Fox was smart, beautiful, passionate, and hot-tempered. She could go from dead calm to erupting volcano quicker than a blink of the eye. The thought of losing her terrified him. But, the fear didn't help ease his feeling of loss for his old life. He missed thieving. He missed the excitement of the prowl. He missed his family.

Then the inevitable had happened. A frantic visit from an hysterical turtle, had changed the game.

Bentley had been so keyed up, that Sly couldn't make sense of what he was trying to say. Penelope, being the calmer of the two, had to translate the turtle's almost psychotic rambling to help the former thief understand the direness of the situation.

The contents of the Thievious Raccoonus had disappeared. They had vanished from right before Bentley's eyes. Someone was tampering with history. The Cooper Clan was being erased.

But, there was a plan. Bentley and Penelope had spent the last year working on a very special project. A time machine.

That's how the raccoon had gotten to this point.

Sly was perched atop a flagpole that protruded from the building across the street from his target. Watching the guards on their rounds through his binocucom, he smirked. "Bentley are you sure this is the place? If that dagger's in there, shouldn't there be more security?"

The turtle's nasally voice crackled through the thief's ear piece. "Don't let appearances fool you. Our relic is in there. Those guards aren't the only protection the museum has." Clearing his throat he added, "If you'll notice the third floor, fourth window from the left, I'm sending your binocucom a marker. Look really closely you'll see how difficult acquiring our target is going to be."

The raccoon zoomed in on the marked location. Shock overtook his sense of balance. Wobbling unsteadily, his feet lost their grip on the flagpole. Natural reflexes taking over, his arm shot out, hooking his cane on the pole he had just fallen from.

"Sly, are you still there?" The wheelchair bound turtle getting concerned at the raccoon's silence.

"I'm here. Just a little out of practice." Pulling himself up, and easing back onto the nearby ledge, he breathed a sigh of relief.

Bentley rolled his wheelchair through the tunnels of the sewer. The frequent beeping of his modified tracking device indicating the closeness of his target. Wheeling up to the security terminal, plugging his laptop into the system, a few seconds of furious keyboard gymnastics, and "Jackpot!"

"Sly get ready. Murray are you in place?"

Cracking his knuckles, and gripping the steering wheel, the pink hippo's voice barely contained his excitement, " 'The Murray' is always ready for action! Me and the Van are just waiting for you guys!"

Bentley keyed a few final commands into the security system, "Sly, the system is down. Get moving."

Easing along the ledge, the raccoon was thrilled at how quickly it all came back to him. Thieving was truly in his blood. Reaching the corner of the building, he grasped his cane between his teeth, and firmly gripped the drain pipe situated there. A quick climb and he was on the roof. Breaking into a sprint, he moved toward the edge and leapt to the utility wire that stretched across the street to the museum.

He was always amazed that no one ever realized that these wires were such a security problem. They didn't spare on the cameras, lasers, and armed guards. But they never secured these lines. Not that he was complaining about it, his job was exciting enough without having to find a different route to his goal.

Close enough to the balcony below, he jumped into a front somersault that landed him deftly on the rail. "This is just too easy." Hopping off the rail and crouching low to check that the coast was clear, he crept to the window. Not seeing any obstacles in his way, he quickly entered and checked his binocucom. Keeping his voice low, he announced, "Bentley, I'm in."

"I can see you. I've got control of the surveillance cameras. The dagger's case is just around the corner. Be careful Sly. There's a guard making his round, he's heading your way."

Ducking behind a potted plant, the daring thief narrowly avoided exposure. Holding his breath as the guard passed, Sly tightened his grip on his cane. As the guard reached the end of the hall, he turned and shined his flashlight in Sly's direction. When the light paused on the raccoon's hiding place, he felt a slight twinge of panic. He couldn't get caught. The entire Cooper family history was at stake. Just as he was about to make a mad dash for the dagger, the guard turned back around and continued on his way.

Not wanting to wait around for another surprise, Sly emerged from hiding and quietly, moved towards the display case. Removing a thick towel from the red bag on his back, he quickly draped it over the glass case. A quick swing of his cane, (the towel muffling the sound of shattering glass), and the relic was free for the taking.

"Bentley, I've got it. Head for the van, I'll meet you there." Wrapping the small sword in the towel, and stowing it in his backpack, the thief was now ready to make his escape.

Before he could take the first step toward his leave, he felt something trying to burn it's way through his skull.