Arthur was awoken by a shrill ringing. He rolled ungainly out of bed and shuffled blindly towards the source of the noise. Plodding into the kitchen, he wrapped his sheets around his body like a makeshift toga, having ripped them off his bed before venturing on a quest to kill whatever was making that God-awful noise.

There was a phone on the coffee table, vibrating and with a glowing screen. Yawning loudly, Arthur picked the device up and held it to his ear.

"Hello." He mumbled through a yawn, rubbing his tired eyes as he started to wake up. It was nine o'clock on a Sunday morning, the sun was too bright for Arthur's eyes, the sounds of London - already awake and busy - were too loud, he wondered what sort of evil person would phone him at such a disgusting hour on one of his days off.

"Oh, um, hey." An obnoxious voice said, echoing around Arthur's sleep addled mind. "Thank God someone answered!" The voice sounded familiar to Arthur, he couldn't match it to a face but he knew he'd heard it somewhere before.

"Sorry, who is this?" Arthur asked abruptly, he'd been unceremoniously woken by this idiot and he definitely wasn't putting up with any rubbish from the mystery caller. God help them if they were trying to sell him something.

"Oh, yeah, I'm Alfred Jones. You must've picked my phone up. I left it on the train yesterday. But I'm so happy you answered, I was shitting myself thinking I'd lost it forever."

That was enough to wake Arthur up completely. He stared at the phone in his hand, it was one of his stolen ones. He must have forgotten to remove the batteries like usual. Arthur sighed in annoyance and placed the phone on the coffee table slowly, he sat down next to it, staring at the device with his hands clasped together and held in front of his face.

The poor boy - Alfred - didn't know that it was Arthur who had taken his phone, he didn't know he was talking to the thief.

"If you want, I'll give you a reward or something if you drop it off at my hotel sometime today" Alfred said, his loud voice could still be heard clearly, even though the phone wasn't being held to Arthur's ear. He sounded so hopeful and trusting, and honestly Arthur's heart broke a little because he'd sooner fuck himself with rusty cutlery than willingly give Alfred his phone back.

"I'm sorry, I can't do that." Arthur picked the phone back up. He hoped that Alfred would pick up on his tone and give up on ever getting his phone back.

"Why?" The reply from Alfred was short and quiet, Arthur tensed in reaction to the coldness of the answer. Maybe Alfred did suspect that his phone had been stolen and was just trying to guilt Arthur into returning it. Cheeky sod.

Arthur ended the call. He turned the phone off and put in into a large black suitcase, ready for him to sell on Tuesday alongside the rest of his stolen goodies.

Arthur walked back to his flat as it started getting dark. He'd eaten dinner at a recently opened restaurant that belonged to a childhood friend of his; a Frenchman named Francis Bonnefoy. Who, when asked, Arthur would deny that he has anything to do with.

Of course, Francis didn't know about Arthur's 'hobby'.

Arthur made sure to keep his friends and family in the dark about his criminal activities.

He wondered through the streets of London and waiting to cross the road, Arthur looked up at the dark sky on a whim. It would be pitch black if not for the flashing lights of aircraft that floated across the black like lazy comets.

Arthur shuddered when a drop of rain suddenly splashed on his forehead. It was followed by the quick pitter-patter of its brethren wetting the concrete. Arthur scowled and quickened his pace, tugging the hood of his two-sizes-too-big black hoodie up over his head.

Of course it would rain the one time he had neither an umbrella or a coat, typical. It really wouldn't do to get a cold with Christmas coming up - all those Christmas shoppers flocking to London with their money and their carelessness. Always such a busy time for pickpockets.

He pulled the sleeves of his hoodie down to cover his hands and made a dash for his front door through the cold rain. Unbeknownst to Arthur there were three men sitting across the road from his front door in a car with tinted black windows, awaiting his arrival with baited breath.

"Ssshhhh, guys! There's someone going in!"

"Alfred-san. They can't hear u-"

"Ssssshhhhhhhhh!"

Alfred, Matthew, and Kiku watched as Arthur -his face hidden by his hood - struggled to unlock his front door, the sudden downpour making his keys slippery, hindering his ability to grip both his shopping bags and open the front door at the same time. After an aggressive struggle, Arthur eventually opened the door and the three men watched it shut behind his retreating figure, none the wiser as to the identity of the thief.

"So that's who stole your phone." Matthew broke the silence and looked expectantly at Alfred who didn't say anything, he was too busy squinting at the closed door, as if he were trying to stare a hole through it.

"Shouldn't we report this to the police?" Kiku commented sensibly and Alfred looked over at his friend.

"No!" He said, affronted. "We can't get the cops involved in this. I bet they wouldn't do anything about it anyways."

Matthew slumped down in his seat. "Can't we just report it and go back to the hotel. We've been sitting here for ages."

The three sat in silence for a moment and Matthew and Kiku shared a anxious look, unnerved by Alfred's quietness.

Having obviously come to some sort of decision, Alfred turned to his friends. "We can leave, but I'm not calling the cops." He buckled his seatbelt and started the car. "I'll come back later, break in, do some mission impossible shit and get my cell phone back. It'll be fucking awesome!" Alfred grinned at his two companions who - going from their looks of annoyance - didn't seem to be very enthused over Alfred's plan in the slightest.

Alfred ignored their pleas of 'You're going to get yourself killed' and 'that sounds like a really bad idea, Alfred-san', and drove them back to their hotel.

Alfred waited until the next day to begin his daring quest. Dressed all in black, he'd dipped two fingers in black paint, smearing lines on his cheeks in a recreation of what he'd seen in movies.

He'd been waiting in his car for most of the day, alternating between watching the front door that led to the third floor flat of the thief, munching on burgers, and using the Wi-Fi that belonged to the house he was parked in front of.

Alfred had started to doze off when suddenly the door he was watching flew open. A red-headed man, wearing a tartan scarf and a long black coat rushed away from the building. Alfred watched the man he suspected of stealing from him disappear around the corner, he supposed he'd meet the man in court once Alfred proved him guilty

Alfred walked up to the door as quickly as possible, before stopping a few steps away from it. Now that he'd got this far he wasn't actually sure how he was going to break into the flat. He'd brought a hair pin and a credit card with him because that's what they used in movies, but he had no idea what he was planning on doing with them. He pondered the issue briefly, before shrugging and walking over to inspect the door.

To Alfred's amazement, he found that the doormat had bunched up beneath the door that the man hadn't stuck around to shut and lock properly. The mat had prevented the door from shutting and with a gentle push it opened to reveal a steep staircase that led to the thief's flat.

Alfred celebrated his luck with a mini fist pump before remembering that he didn't know when the thief would be returning. He only had so long to find his phone and get out.

Reaching the top of the stairs Alfred entered the thief's home. It was an nice place, from what Alfred could see anyway. The large kitchen-living room that greeted him had large windows, opened as wide as they could they could be, letting in a formidable chill. Despite the wide-open windows there was an obvious haze around the place, like someone had been smoking. Alfred sniffed, it smelt like burning.

He searched around the place, looking through the drawers and cupboards. He didn't care if he left a mess, he just wanted to find his phone and get the hell out of there. After throwing a stack of books to the floor and practically climbing inside a cabinet trying to see if his phone was hidden at the back, Alfred's eyes fell on a suitcase propped up against a wall next to a door.

Alfred walked over and unzipped it. His mouth fell open when he saw the large suitcase was full to bursting point with wads of money, phones, jewellery, and countless other things that Alfred was too shocked to really think about. He quickly searched through the plastic bag full of phones, praying to God that his was in there. When he found the i-phone with the familiar American flag case, he shoved it into his pocket.

"Back already, Alistair? Did you forget your money?"

Alfred jumped as a voice came from behind the door that he was crouching in front of. He hurried to his feet just as the door opened.

"You?"

"What's going on?"

"YOU!" Alfred screamed in the face of a familiar blonde with heavy eyebrows. "It's you!" He pointed in disbelief and jumped up and down on the spot. "You fucking jerk! Grabbing my ass, then stealing my phone, that's fucking low, dude!"

"I fell!" The man yelled, face an angry red. "It was a bleeding accident, you moron."

"So then you admit to stealing from me." Alfred grinned in satisfaction.

"Wha- No! Wait! Why are you in my flat?" The angry man shoved past Alfred and lunged for a kitchen knife and Alfred really didn't want to stick around and see what he was going to do with it. He took advantage of the man's turned back and fled back the way he came. He leapt into his car and sped off, tires screeching in protest.

Alfred had his phone back, at least. But what was he going to do? That, Alfred realised as he drove through London, was probably one of the most fun things he'd ever done. He could still feel the adrenalin surging through his veins, whipping up a storm of buzzing excitement, he'd felt so alive in that moment of madness and he if he was honest with himself, he actually wanted to do it all over again.

That was when Alfred decided that it would be a massive mistake to give up now, when he could be the one to bring the thief to justice. He could be a hero...

Yeah. That sounded like a great idea.

Thank you for reading. Please review. I'd love to hear any feedback you have for this so far.