He had, of course, come when Memphis had called asking for help. Sphynx rarely gets to boost these days, Atley insisting it's too dangerous despite working for the man making it so, and if they can do something about it and save the kid, he's happy to help. Though, he's certain most of the others, the young ones in particular, might stroke at the thought of him being happy.

He hadn't expected her to be there.

"We explained all of us, and I know your old crew from before, but you wanna tell me who this chick is and what she's doing here?" Kip's question is bratty and petulant, but Sphynx is wondering himself. He knows very little about her, despite them having shared a bed regularly for years, but he'd always been certain that cars are not on the list of things she steals.

The woman in question rolls her eyes and looks at Sway, and Sphynx realizes for the first time that they look somewhat alike, and suddenly has a sinking feeling in his gut. Sway speaks up. "You got a problem with my baby sister, Kippy? She may not be a boost by trade, but she knows her way around stealin' shit, including cars, even if she don't wanna admit it. She's here to help because I asked her to be."

God damnit.

It's obvious now, but they DO look different enough that he feels he can be excused for not putting it together himself. They're the same height and general build, though Jessica is better endowed. She keeps her hair it's natural medium brown, always shoulder length, and her eyes are lighter and bigger than Sarah's. Same nose, smaller mouth, more cupid's bow.

"She don't look like no baby to me…" Mirror Man drawls, trying to be smooth, drawing Jess's incredulous gaze before her eyes survey him critically before looking away, clearly dismissing him.

"One year younger hardly makes me a BABY. Especially now that we're SUPPOSED TO BE adults." is the very little-sister-esque comment from Jess to Sway.

Sphynx immediately feels a bit better. He'd always known she was younger, both of them having been rather young when they'd taken up with each other, but having a reference point helps. Sway is just shy of three years younger than him. He'd met Jess… oh, a year and a half?... before Memphis left, so he'd've been about 24, putting her at 20ish, which is older than he honestly thought she was at the time.

Before he can start reminiscing, Atley's voice, carefully measured to somewhat hide the lurking disdain, pipes in. "Plus, Calitri's sweet on 'er. And we're gonna need every advantage we can get here."

"You didn't tell me you're-" Sway starts to gripe at her sister, this obviously being news.

Jess stops the rant with a careless wave and a dark smirk that is pointedly NOT aimed in Sphynx's direction. "What can I say? Something about me seems to attract homicidal Englishmen." HIs eyes narrow slightly, but he keeps his face in the same neutral scowl it had been in as Atley shoots a very quick, but curious look in his direction.

The plan is gone over, assignments handed out, and they break to get some sleep in the early hours of the morning. Atley tries to catch Sphynx, but is waylaid by Memphis and Otto, and Jessica breaks away from Sway just outside the garage door, giving her sister a playful shove towards the crotch rocket before casually falling in stride with Sphynx. He doesn't know what she's driving now - it seems to change every few weeks - but she must be parked near him.

"My place?" her suggestion is quiet enough to not draw attention. He nods, knowing Atley's likely to bust in on them if they head to his, and they break off to their separate vehicles. She's driving a shitty-looking '93 T-bird this week, but he listens as she cranks it and it sounds like the mechanics have at least been maintained.

Her apartment is on the outskirts of the relatively small tourist area near the pier and boardwalk, and he takes a roundabout route there to make sure he isn't followed, allowing himself to think back… fuck, has it really been nearly 8 years?

With them both being thieves, of different varieties, you'd think their meeting might've been some weird coincidental or grand affair out in the criminal underbelly of Long Beach, but it hadn't.

Sphynx had been at a bar, trying to find a girl that wasn't too obnoxious to take home for a tumble between the sheets.

He'd watched across the dive bar several blocks from his new house as she came in, ordered herself a drink with confidence despite not looking nearly old enough to do so legally, but the bartender hadn't questioned her, so she is either older than she looks, or he knows her, or both. She'd taken her vodka cran and paid with a manilla envelope, so he knew there was something going on, but didn't judge. He's a car boost, after all, and for all he knows, it could be something as innocent as her and the bartender are friends, and she'd run an errand for him, while he'd thanked her with a drink.

Sphynx had tracked her movement over to the dartboard, then watched her decimate a couple of guys for two games, before she'd wandered over to him.

Setting her now empty glass on the small, high-top table he'd claimed in the corner, next to his mostly-empty bottle of beer, she'd rather brazenly looked him over before smirking at him and stepping right between his slightly spread knees, saying, "You've been watching me since I walked in. I assume you see something you like." before running a hand down his chest.

Amused and interested, he can't say she's wrong. "And if I do?" he asks lowly before tipping back the last of his beer.

Her smirk turns to a wicked smile. "Then I hope your place is nearby, because mine's not, and I don't need another indecent exposure on my record."

This made him smirk as well, before he stood, realizing that she's a tiny little thing, before leading her out to his Malibu and driving them the six blocks to the house he'd recently bought and moved into. Mindful of how fast he is spending money so as not to draw attention, it's sparsely furnished, but she doesn't seem to care as they stop to snog against whatever's handy and shed clothes through the living room and down the short hall to his bedroom.

They'd only made it partially ot the bed for round one - condoms living in his side table, otherwise it wouldn't have been that far- with her bracing her knees on the edge of the bed as he held her torso up and slammed into her from behind, and it was over almost embarrassingly quickly. He knew she'd cum before he did, but was determined to hear her moan and shout out her release again, and had almost immediately flopped her over onto her back and gone down on her. Round two had left them both boneless and sated, and he'd dozed off only to wake up a couple hours later to the sounds of her helping herself to his shower, where round three took place before she'd sauntered casually out his front door with a cheery "We should do that again sometime."

It was the next day before he realized he hadn't gotten either her name or phone number, and supposed he'd just have to wait until they ran into each other again, or she showed up at his doorstep.

Thus had begun a series of, for lack of better term, booty calls. When she seemed disinclined to offer any information, he took that as a sign that she really was just coming back for the sex and he was fine with that, not offering any himself. He ended up becoming a regular at that dive bar from the first night, largely due to it being laid back, casual, and convenient, and that's where they were apt to bump into each other. Other times, he'd get home, or be up late and hear a knock, to find her at his door. Sometimes, she'd be by 4 or 5 nights in a row, and sometimes she'd disappear for 2 or 3 weeks, but she always turned back up eventually.

Nearly a year later, he'd found out her name. Well, her first name. It was the same night he'd finally put together that the dive bar he frequented is a front for a local fence. He'd always known there was something shady about the place, and not particularly cared, but it made some things make more sense. Again - car boost, no judgement, he just appreciates knowing at least generally what he's dealing with.

She'd shown up weirdly early that night, appearing on his doorstep just after 9, instead of the usual midnight or later. Instead of stripping her clothes off like normal, she'd closed the door and looked at him somewhat warily. "Wanna make some easy money?" she asks.

Sphynx had tensed slightly. "Doing?"

"Probably just standing around and looking menacing, and forgetting everything you have heard once you're done." she said, before pausing slightly at his raised eyebrow. Nodding the concession that there's a catch, she continues, "It's unlikely, but if things go badly, you might have to bust some faces. But somehow I don't think that'll be much of a problem." He smirks at her astuteness. "I normally don't bother much with bringing backup, but this is a special case. $1000 for an hour or so playing watchdog. Interested?"

He nods, saying "I'll go get changed." as he turned toward his bedroom to do exactly that. He'd planned on being in for the night, so he's already in loose sweats and a wife beater meant for sitting around and studying, since he'd decided to take up another graduate degree after completing his doctorate a few months ago.

Ten minutes later they'd been in her car, heading towards the bar. When they walk in, he's surprised to find it empty save the normal weekday bartender, who nods at them in greeting, immediately reaching to grab both of their usuals - beer for Sphynx and vodka cran for her - and four other people. Two men sit at a table near the center of the room, while two others who are obviously bodyguards lurk in various spots where they can see the whole room and both doors. Sphynx meets the girls' eyes, silently hoping she knows what she's doing (she seems confident, but she hadn't exactly briefed him beyond his role of having her back) and grabs his beer before moving to his normal table, positioned against the wall between the far end of the bar and the pool table, allowing him to see the whole room and into the back without being close enough to properly hear whatever business is being done.

She joins the men at the table, and he recognizes the ensuing conversation as some kind of negotiation. He'd put money on one of the guys being Italian - mob, probably - just off the suit he's wearing, while the other guys has a slightly nasal voice that carries traces of an American accent that he doesn't recognize, but thinks is from the generally northeastern part of the country.

When whatever deal is finally struck, the mobster speaks up, chattering of something quickly in Italian at one of the bodyguards, who leaves for a few minutes before re-entering with a small suitcase and heading for the girls' side of the table. Sphynx moves to get up and check it out, and he sees amusement in her eyes as she motions for the other man to hand it off to Sphynx, who takes it to a nearby table and carefully opens it. At this point, he's unsurprised to find stacks of cash knowing how much is supposed to be there, he just makes it look like he's quickly counting when he's really checking for anything else that may have been stashed in the case. Once he's convinced there's nothing overtly sinister, he looks back to the occupied table and catches her eye, nodding that it's clear.

This prompts her to stand and extend her hand to first the mobster, then the other one, saying, "Don't contact me. You'll hear from me when it's done."

"Of course, Jessica, we know from our mutual friend that you have a very particular way of doing things." the amused-sounding, Italian-accented voice replies, shaking her hand.

They leave last, and, as they wait for the others to be away, Sphynx wonders at the bar being empty for a minute before remembering there being signs last week about being closed tonight for cleaning and maintenance or some shit, before also registering that all the neon signs had been off and only the minimal overhead lights are on.

Jessica hands the keys to the Camry she's driving at the time to Sphynx to take them back to his place, sitting with the case on her lap and counting out his pay before shoving the black case into the back between the front seats and reaching to tuck the cash into the inside pocket of the pea coat he'd worn for the excursion.

"What do you deal in then?" he asks calmly. He's not surprised she's into something shady, but he is curious. He doesn't recognize her as another boost, and cash that comes in suitcase portions feels bigger.

She shrugs, watching out the window as they pull onto his street. "Information, mostly. Occasionally small goods."

Sphynx parks on the street in front of his house, killing the ignition and handing her the keys. "You coming in?"

Jessica contemplates her watch for a moment before saying, "Yeah, but I can't stay long."

Present day Sphynx is pulled out of his memories as he sees the crappy T-bird parked nearly 3 blocks from her apartment and shakes his head at her paranoia. He parks only 1 block out and heads down the alley behind her building to go up the fire escape- less due to paranoia and more because he knows it aggravates her, not that she'll ever say it.

She's so opposite Sway in that way that it's almost comical, now that he has the comparison to make.

When he climbs through the large window into her third-floor studio apartment, she's already naked in bed waiting for him, legs splayed open and rubbing her pussy lazily as she watches him watch her while he peels off his clothes. 'Asking questions can wait. Hell, they had for this long, what was a bit longer?' he thinks, crawling up from the foot of the bed and nudging her hand out of the way as he starts licking and sucking at her.

Later, they're dozing, Jess's head pillowed on his shoulder as he lazily traces his fingers over her back. Eventually Jessica says, "Just ask, then."

Sphynx gives a small shrug, careful not to jostle her. "I'm not really sure what to ask." a couple minutes of silence. "You knew I worked with Sway?"

Jessica's turn to shrug. "I figured you probably knew her, boosts and all, but it never seemed relevant."

His answering shrug is with his eyebrows this time. "That's fair. Calitri?"

A sigh. "Necessary evil, these days. Thankfully, he's more about beating intel out of people than my line of information gathering, so I don't have to deal with him too much."

"And Atley?"

"Jackson has been present at drops a couple of times that I have had to deal." she shifts before speaking again, answering the question he really wants to ask but knows he has no right to. "Calitri's tried it on, but I've made it clear I'm not interested. Might have implied I'm inclined toward women, knowing he wouldn't take no for an answer very well." He chuckles at this, trying to distract himself from the relief he shouldn't be feeling.

Yes, they've been fucking regularly for almost 8 years, had helped each other out of a couple jams, criminally speaking, but they knew next to nothing about each other. They aren't in a relationship, had never even shared a meal, unless you count the occasional slice of cold pizza as a midnight snack. Hell, until tonight, he hadn't even known her last name, or that she has a sister.

He has no right to be possessive of her.

Trying to distract himself more, he decides to keep asking questions so long as he's allowed. "What's this about not wanting to admit you can run a boost, then?"

The soft sigh flitters across the skin of his chest before she answers. "Cars were always Sarah's thing. We learned the basics together, because that was before she knew Memphis and she didn't want to be alone, so I got dragged along. I've picked up tricks here and there as necessary over the years, enough that I can help you guys with the less sophisticated pickups, but I'm really there to help with recon and be an extra pair of hands and eyes."

He hums out his reply, mostly to indicate he's listening as he chews that over. It makes sense. As far as he knows, her trade is information, and she occasionally picks up jobs as a burglar, so it jives. It's almost required that you know at least the basics of stealing cars to do the other, if only because you might need to make a getaway in a direction other than your designated getaway vehicle.

When she doesn't keep talking he realizes that turnabout is only fair, and asks, "Got any for me, girlie?" Her fingers play over the skin of his chest in a way he doesn't recognize and he tilts his head to get a glance down at her and realizes she seems nervous. "I'm not going to be upset, just ask." She's never been nervous around him. If anything, her confidence flirts dangerously with the line that borders on arrogant.

"Mostly just wondering how you wanna play this off. Jackson's sharp; he'll have us pegged quick. Memphis is distracted, but he's pretty eagle-eyed, too. And Sarah's bound to notice I'm acting different than she expects."

It's Sphynx's turn to sigh. "Don't need to play anything, lovie. It's none of their business. If Jackson won't give it up, tell him the truth - we've known each other for years, pulled an occasional job together. Tend to hang out at the same shitty pub. The fact that you spend every second or third night cumming on my cock is between us." The last bit is said with a smirk, and has the intended effect of making her wicked little grin appear against his skin as her hand trails down to fondle his balls and start stroking him back to life. Soon, she's moving to straddle him and sinking her hot, slick pussy slowly down over his throbbing cock. He watches her move over him, taking her own pleasure first and greedily, thinking that he should really see about them going out for a meal once this is all over.

The next day, she's up obscenely early considering they'd not settled down to sleep until almost 5, and he wakes up as she's crawling out of bed, hooking an arm around her petite waist and pulling her back to him.

"We've barely been asleep 4 hours," he grumbles into her hair.

She heaves a tired sigh. "I know, but this is the point that I am going to be most useful. Information gathering." he grunts an acknowledgement, but doesn't release her. "C'mon, you can still sleep in, and this is only going to be a couple days. After that you can keep me in bed all weekend if you want."

Sphynx grumbles again, this time wordlessly, but releases her, watching through slitted eyes as she goes into her tiny bathroom for a shower and comes out hardly 5 minutes later, damp, and gets dressed in her usual nondescript clothing. After rifling through her closet and filling a messenger bag with the various supplies she needs for the day, she moves to the kitchen, throwing a few snacks and a bottle of water in as well before fastening the bag and moving to the door. "Throw the bolt before you go, please." with the final parting statement, she leaves, pulling the door shut, and he sighs before letting himself doze back off for a couple more hours.

When he walks into his house just after noon, there's a few empty beer bottles on the coffee table, and he knows Atley had spent at least a few hours last night waiting for him. Sphynx can only shake his head, throw the bottles away, and move to shower and change before he heads to the garage. Memphis had left him a message that they are starting to pull in addresses and asked Sphynx to come by to pick up a list to start making initial shopping runs to see what measures they'll need to take at the different locations and scout any potential problems.

The next two days are a whirlwind of running around LA shopping, then boosting, and the fact that only one person is injured by the end of it is a goddamn miracle.

Several days after, there's a grill out at the garage, and Sphynx is so tired he accidentally spouts out some philosophical bullshit about nobility in injuries or something, and almost everyone looks at him, amazed. He blames work. He was supposed to have through Monday off, but then the flu had apparently gone round, and he was called in and ended up working an 18-hour shift, which he'd come straight here from.

"Does he really not talk to you guys?" Jessica asks her sister incredulously.

"I didn't know he COULD talk," Sway says, waving a chicken wing for emphasis.

"Well," Jessica, shrugs somewhat, looking over to Sphynx "don't I feel special then?"

There's a few 'huh?'s and Memphis goes, "Oh, yeah. How do you two know each other, anyway?" their interactions within the group had been brief, but he'd noticed they seem comfortable with each other in a way that two people who just met can't pull off.

Atley looks interested in the answer, and Sphynx is wary of the grin Jessica has. "Oh, he's my favorite sex toy." Everyone looks vaguely disturbed, and Sphynx raises an eyebrow. She sighs and rolls her eyes dramatically. "We've known each other for years. Worked together occasionally."

The slight laughter that breaks out is relieved, and Sphynx shakes his head as he watches her start bickering with her sister over the last scoop of potato salad in the bowl. He notices Atley watching him carefully and knows that the man isn't done questioning him. He silently vows that he IS going to take her on a proper date soon, because, if he now has to put up with questions, then he is damn well getting something other than sex out of it.

And fuck if he doesn't feel like a woman thinking that.