Title: A Crosier Oath.

Rating: T.

Pairing: Sly Cooper x Carmelita Fox (Minor)

Characters: Sly, Carmelita, Cooper Raccoon.

Warnings: Character Death.

Summary: Carmelita made a promise a long time ago that she wishes she could have kept now that Sly Cooper is walking along the green mile. (SxC)

Disclaimer: Sly Cooper and all related characters copyright to their respective owners.

---

"Orange isn't your color, Cooper."

"Ah, Carmelita. Hello." Sly greeted politely and stood from the hard cot in the corner to approach the solid bars at the front of the room. "I must agree with you. Fancy letting me out for a change of clothes?"

"Not a chance, Ringtail." Carmelita snapped, her arms folded tight as she glared at the grey raccoon.

"Eh, it was worth a shot." Sly shrugged and found it in himself to offer her a charming grin, his own arms folding loosely across his orange t-shirt.

"Not likely. Did you really think I would let you out after all you've done?" The tan vixen shot him a dark look and leant her shoulder against the wall just beside the cage bars.

Sly looked thoughtful before shrugging and sitting on the cold floor, dropping back to lie down with his arms pillowing his head. "I don't suppose so." He muttered; eyes tracking a small moth flitting around the hanging dust covered light bulb on the ceiling.

Carmelita pursed her lips and looked over the casual raccoon. How could he be so calm, knowing he was finally in prison and he was not about to be let out any time soon. He'd been locked up for many months now, and every time she visited, she would tell him orange did not suit him.

Each visit that brought her to his confine would bring her constant surprise. She expected each morning to sit down with her coffee and read the newspaper with the headline, 'Notorious thief Cooper escapes prison!' but it was never so. He remained inside the concrete and steel as intended.

She could hardly believe she'd finally caught the cunning coon, and that it seemed there was most definitely no way he could escape. It had been her dream to finally catch the thief that couldn't be caught and she was overjoyed to have persevered and done it!

Until night came, and she slept to replay memories she wish she wouldn't...

---

A young Carmelita Fox sat in her nightclothes, her face a picture of unhappiness. At the end of her bed, she swung her small legs - they didn't reach the floor after all.

She was listening to her parents talking downstairs. It was more like shouting though they weren't arguing as such, it sounded just like it to her tender little ears. Brushing midnight navy hair from her eyes she looked to the dark wooden floor of her bedroom and wondered if the topic of the heated discussion was the same as it had been for the past week or so.

The little vixen cub got upset every time her mother or father's voice raised above that which she was comfortable with and she had voiced these things to both of her parents on several separate occasions but they both said the same thing in reply; that she was being silly.

She knew really that they weren't fighting and that they were happy, but the conversation seemed to spark flames of rage inside them that made it so they had to shout in their anger for criminals. They watched the evening news at six, and she observed their eyes darkening and jaws clenching whenever it became known that someone had been killed or hurt by a criminal, but they wouldn't say anything about it - just continue on with what they had been talking about before.

Carmelita's curfew was seven, and she would be kissed good night and assured that no bad people would ever get her as her parents would always be there to protect her from what they could do. Her mother whispered that thieves were the worst; they stole possessions and didn't show their face. It was nothing but cowardice.

'What about my heart?' The little girl thought, what if someone was to take her heart away - would it make them a thief? Did that mean her daddy was a thief because he stole her mother's heart away when they were younger? Did her mother not realize her dad was a criminal, then?

It confused her for years as she perfected her cold temperament, wanting to avoid having her heart stolen, in spite of the meeting that could come that night and stay with her.

Tiny brown feet hit the wooden floor with the smallest of taps and she hovered in her doorway, peeking out into the hall for signs of her parents though she didn't think they'd come for her if their voices were any indication to how into their conversation they were.

It stung her ears and forced them flat as she made her way down the gigantic staircase (It looks that way when you're so young), knowing where to avoid the old steps because they creaked worse than her granny's bones did when she stood up or sat down.

"Those bloody thieves! They're the absolute worst! They've hurt another family by stealing their most meaningful possessions! Oh, if only I were a police officer I could beat them all down with my very two fists!" Her father's booming voice traveled easily to her and she winced before unlocking the front door quietly as she could.

Stepping out and closing the door, the small femme looked to the set of keys in her delicate paws and back up at the lock. She locked the door the way she'd seen her mother do when they were on the way to school, to keep her house safe from thieves, of course.

It wasn't nice to take the keys without asking first - stealing! - So she reasoned that giving them back would just be borrowing, right? She posted the keys back through the letterbox with some trouble and jumped at the clash of metal hitting the floor on the other side.

Her parents hadn't heard her - good. She turned and ran down her garden and out into the street. She didn't want to hear anymore of their talk of thieves! It was scary. What if she ever came across one? What would she do? She certainly couldn't fight it. So what was she doing out here?

Carmelita crossed her arms and blinked past her wild, unbound hair as the wind blew it into her small face and bright brown eyes. Before she even registered what was happening, she'd stepped down into the road then ended up at the other side with the sounds of a blaring horn and loud engine rushing by behind her.

She looked wide-eyed at the arms holding her and shrieked. Her mother always told her masks equaled robbers and the dark black cloth around her savior's eyes was exactly the type to denote a thief. "Get off me!"

"That's gratitude for you." The soft, slightly gravelly voice said and smiled, putting the child down on the ground.

"You're a thief and they're horrible! You're going to steal things from me and my mama and papa are going to shout at me for the leaving the house and seeing you!" Carmelita wailed unhappily and attempted to kick the crouching man's shin only to rub her foot afterwards. It was a lot more solid than she'd anticipated.

"A thief I am; horrible? I'd like to think not." The shadowy figure replied, leaning his forearms on his knees. "What's your name?"

"Carmelita Fox." The little girl offered with pride before blanching, "Stop it... mister! I'm not supposed to talk to strangers OR criminals!"

"It sounds as though you have smart parents, Carmelita."

"I don't. They're stupid. They said thieves are the worst but my papa stole my mama's heart so he's a thief! They're both stupid." Carmelita huffed defiantly.

The tall male smiled and ruffled the dark blue hair, "That's different. Like there are different ways to steal - there are different thieves."

"Huh?" She asked in confusion and lifted her hands to sort her ruffled hair.

"A stolen heart is undoubtedly a good thing, little Carmelita. And like that, there are good thieves. I am a thief with honor... I steal only from criminals; those who have stolen from the innocent, like you. I get the real bad guys put in jail, but if I ever get caught, I can't do that anymore."

"Oh, no!" Carmelita gasped worriedly and gripped his one free hand. "What's your name, mister? I'll tell my mama you're a good thief then she won't put you in jail! She'll understand, my mama's really nice like that."

"I don't think your mother would be so happy to know who I am, Miss Fox." The grey furred raccoon smiled. "But just for you; I'll tell you my name. It's Cooper."

"Cooper? 'Kay! Thank you! Um... Cooper? Could you take me home? I'm tired." The little fox murmured, not usually up for so long after her bed time; especially not being saved by nice thieves.

"Certainly. You'll need to direct me to where you live." Cooper said and picked the girl up, putting her atop his shoulders, "Hold on tight, miss Fox."

Carmelita nodded and grabbed his ears after confusion of what she could hold. Thankfully it didn't seem to bother the very, very tall coon, and they were soon off, her small hands pulling his ears left or right to send him to her house; it was almost like the horse riding she'd tried last year!

"What's that?" The little female asked and pointed with one hand down to the stick in his hand.

"This? This is a very special stick that was given to me by my father."

"Like the ugly necklace my mama's given me from my granny?"

"Yes, just like that. You're very clever, Carmelita."

Carmelita giggled and grinned with pride, "Thank you Mr. Cooper! Why does it have a shiny bit?"

"It's a part of what makes it special. This stick is called a crosier, and has been given to my family since Egyptian times. Do you know about Egypt?"

"Pyramids?" The little girl asked, hoping she wasn't wrong. She liked being right; it made her feel very smart.

"Yes," The raccoon grinned up at her, "Exactly."

Carmelita beamed again and continued to direct his ears during his fast run until they got to her home. "We're here Mr. Cooper!"

"Ah, good. Which is your room, Miss Fox?"

"That one!" The little girl pointed to the top room to the right. "Wait! You're a thief; are you going to steal my things?"

"Of course not, little one. You're innocent, are you not? There is honor among thieves in our family - if you ever see this crosier again please remember that any thief holding this is good and just; they will never take from the righteous." Cooper told her seriously and clambered up the house drainpipe and into the bedroom.

Carmelita found herself amazed as he landed with more silence than she had, even though he was much heavier than her. "I'm gonna get in trouble, Cooper. I wasn't supposed to leave but I left the keys on the mat and my mama will find them!"

"Don't worry; I'll take care of it." Cooper grinned charmingly and knelt down again, "Can you promise me something, Carmelita Fox?"

"Ah-ha!" She nodded; being a child it was easy to trust someone once she believed them to be good.

"Promise me that you will never wrongly judge a Cooper; you will keep in mind that they steal for the good of all and that they will never hurt you."

"I promise... on the cro- the, the. Um, the ugly necklace stick!" The cub whispered; her hands to her heart as proof then pointed to his crosier.

"As good an oath as I have ever heard. I doubt we will meet again, little Carmelita, but always remember this promise." Cooper said and vanished out of her room.

She went to sleep with dreams of Cooper fighting criminals alongside the police force, and woke up early to tell her mama all about her new knowledge of what a good thief was. And Cooper, as he'd said, had replaced the front door key in the lock so it appeared as though she had never left.

---

Ignoring the bitter taste on her tongue, Carmelita stepped away from the jail cell as her company arrived. She nodded to the three guards and opened the barred door for them to take Sly, though he seemed unwilling to fight, and walked peacefully out, each of his biceps clutched hard in a large, strong hand.

Sly glanced from the badger at his left to the bear at his right, though his mind was mostly blank and not bothering to come up with an escape plan. There wasn't one - he'd devised many in his cell time but hadn't found one that could even get him out of his cell, never mind out of the complex.

"This is what you deserve, Cooper. You're a criminal." Carmelita said to the silver raccoon and folded her arms again; cold eyes boring into his own warm ones.

"A charmer as always, Carmelita." Sly grinned and chuckled, a tinge of nervousness piercing the end. He cleared his throat and started walking with the guards down the corridor, his wrists in cuffs and a guard at his back, gun to his head. "Guess the Cooper clan ends here, huh, Miss Fox?"

"I guess so." Carmelita replied, trying vehemently to keep her stone mask in place.

The smile dropped from Sly's face as he sighed heavy and dropped his head. "This is it. Goodbye, Carmelita Fox. I'm not the only thief here - you stole my heart long ago."

Carmelita felt her slender body freeze with the words, her heart beating too fast in the cage of her ribs. Could she really see him die? She would have to... she caught him, she couldn't erase that fact, nor could she let him go, no matter how much she felt she needed to now.

"Goodbye, Sly Cooper." She whispered and watched the raccoon be lead down the green mile. E Block would never look the same to her after today. And the shiny crosier in her office would remind her only of the bitterness of a broken promise as she would replay the sight of Sly sat upon the electric chair with naught but love for her in his eyes as the levers were pulled...