A/N: So happy that I could get this out relatively fast. Work on chapter 4 is already in progress, and should be coming along soon! Thank you all for your opinions and support, and I hope that everyone has a safe and very blessed Thanksgiving, (you know, unless you don't celebrate that, I don't judge.). Y'all take care!

Bentley's presence wasn't what shocked Carmelita; she had seen him numerous times since Le Paradox's imprisonment. What stood out from the usually paraplegic turtle was that he was standing. With ease. Unfurling from the leather coat bundled around him, he pulled a chair from a nearby table and edged it close to her. Murray's large purple fingers flung the hood from his shoulders, but he managed to squeeze in next to Cross. Bentley stared at her a few moments before laughing giddily.

"What's that saying about flies and open mouths?" It took a few moments for her to stammer over her response.

"Y-you're walking. On two feet! That's impossible!" Bentley pulled his legs toward Carmelita and motioned under the table.

"You'll find that I've done a little tinkering to them..." Surrounding both of his legs were what looked to be tracking devices, with wire frames tracing their way up into his shell. The surrounded his ankles and feet like boots, like the pedals on a bicycle almost.

"They tap into my neuromuscular junctions and manipulate electrical impulses. Long story short, I can walk again. I'm a bit rusty, but I think I can work out the kinks." Carmelita examined the devices over before looking at him again, her expression turning from surprise to a sincere smile.

"I'm happy for you, really. But I need to ask you something." Bentley nodded, swinging his legs back under the table with some effort. Carmelita slunk her head down for a moment before looking at the two opaque frames covering his eyes.

"How did you find my father?" Bentley waved a hand across the table at Cross casually, who was sipping on his coffee.

"You can really thank him for that. We were driving by on a midnight run and saw him laying in the street. The apartment had already gone up and he was losing blood fast. We put two and two together and drove him to the hospital; got out of there before the rest of Interpol showed up." Murray cracked his knuckles and leaned back with an accomplished look on his face.

"Thanks to my driving, of course." Carmelita nodded and listened intently, furrowing her brow slightly when they had finished.

"So you were just driving by my father's apartment at 2 AM? What were you doing?" The two shifted nervously, now fully aware that they were seated between two of the best Interpol agents in Europe as Carmelita and Cross looked at them quizzically. Bentley removed his glasses and wiped them down with a cloth from his jacket.

"Now, there are precautions in place, certain regulations, an-" Carmelita slammed a fist down on the table, her teeth in a snarl and leaning towards the turtle.

"WHAT were you doing at my father's Bentley?" Her outburst drew little attention from the cafe. The turtle motioned her to sit down and lowered his voice.

"Calm down Inspector, let's go outside. Somebody may be listening." Cross had scouted the cafe before either party got there. He knew everyone at the cafe at the moment; he figured Bentley wanted to have some room to run in case Carmelita resorted to her shock pistol rather than words. The group shuffled about inside before pushing through into the cold, the snowflakes now subsiding and welcoming the rising sun tucked behind a cluster of angry, looming clouds. Cross retrieved a jacket from his car and handed it to Carmelita, who wrapped the extra layer around her exposed tail. Bentley and Murray stopped at the corner of the cafe and turned to them, Bentley casually pulling a cigarette from his jacket and lighting it to Carmelita's surprise.

"You smoke?" The turtle nodded, placing his old fashion lighter back into his pocket.

"A side effect of the boots; they give me a serious craving for nicotine. I'm trying to work that out as well." He took a few drags on his smoke before stomping it out in the snow, watching as the acrid smoke spiraled up into a frosty vortex.

"We found your father because we were trying to protect him. We got word on ThiefNet that someone had been looking for him for the past few weeks. We couldn't dig up anything more than a codename: Aegis. We went to monitor his house but we were too late. That's how he ended up at the hospital and we made our hasty retreat as Interpol arrived." Carmelita's grimaced face now turned to agitation rather than blind fury. She furrowed her brow.

"Why did you leave? Barkley wouldn't have done anything to you knowing you saved him." Bentley shook his head, doubt spreading across his features.

"Barkley would have wanted full cooperation; something I'm not willing to do considering I have him and half of his agents bugged. I trust him about as much as he trusts Matt, which, let me assure you, is very little." Carmelita looked to Cross.

"Why doesn't he trust you?" Bentley interjected with a raised finger.

"Because, and I quote, that Cross and his boys are gunslingers just itching to get into a fight. They lack discipline." Bentley's impression of the gruff Chief Inspector brought a smile to Carmelita's face. Cross half shrugged underneath his coat.

"Well, he's not wrong. I don't answer to him though, I answer to the old man." Bentley nodded and turned back to Carmelita.

"Someone was out to get your dad Inspector, and as far as they're concerned it's a job well done. I'll see what I can do to filter any reports or articles."

She walked forward and hugged them both, tears beginning to well in her eyes as she squeezed tightly onto both of them.

"Thank you, both of you." They smiled and returned the hug, albeit hesitant. This was the most emotion the two had seen out of her in a long time. Since a certain raccoon had gone missing a few years prior, Carmelita's 6 month search had been fueled by over the counter anti-depressants and a ludicrous amount of alcohol, both of which she particularly cared for in the first place. Since she was ordered to take a temporary leave of absence, her disposition reflected little of what was left of the fiery, Spanish crime fighter most had known her to be. Her life now consisted of work around Interpol and the little time in between that served as sleeping and eating. One would guess that she was taking her father's near death quite well had they not been around her for more than five minutes. Her career's sole obsession was now gone, and Carmelita had little to show for it aside from a paraplegic turtle and a getaway driver who were now both apparently on her side. Inside the office, rumors had already begun to circulate about how her favorite "escape" was what caused her decline in emotional ties. Partners came and went, work slowed and quickened, and Carmelita sat at the center of it all, as unchanged as she was at the beginning. She was burning the candle at both ends; all three of them had seen that now. They sat there for a moment, statues in the growing twilight of the Parisian streets. The silence was broken by the ringing of Matthew's cell phone, which he quickly answered and roughy shoved to his ear.

"What? Are you k- okay, I'll be there in a few." The wolf hung up his phone and gruffly shoved it into his pocket with a few muffled expletives. Walking over to the three, they could see evident agitation in his face.

"I've got to get going, Barkley's sticking his damn nose where it doesn't belong. Carm, I need you to come too." She took one last glance at the two she had considered once as a temporary family and smiled weakly. Leaving the embrace, she walked towards Cross' car parked at the front of the cafe. Matthew yelled as the turtle and hippo began to walk away.

"Bentley!" The turtle turned on his heels to see Cross motioning a phone brought up to his ear.

"I'll keep in touch, you boys take care. Let me know if you find anything." Bentley turned before Cross spoke again.

"And Bentley..." His horn rimmed glasses turned, now frosty from being exposed to the frigid weather.

"Thank you." The two simply nodded before vanishing into the shadow of the adjacent alleyway. Carmelita was trying to wrap her jacket closely around herself, as she was visibly shaking in the frosty, Paris morning.

"Hijo de puta, can we get out of this snow?" Cross laughed playfully before letting her into his car, a silver Aston Martin Vantage. The roar of the custom, supercharged engine echoed loudly off of the buildings as he slammed down on the gas, sending the sports car throttling down the street. They talked little on the way to their destination, Cross making periodical "stops" to make sure they weren't being tailed. Carmelita was apprehensive at the danger of being followed, but Cross insisted that he did this every time as a force of habit. Finally, the two approached a backlot just on the other side of the Seine, relatively close to her Interpol office. At the end of the lot was a battered, rustic garage, which Matthew abruptly pulled up to and flung the gear into park.

"Wait just one minute." He stepped out of the vehicle and walked towards the garage, flinging up the aluminum door with ease. He returned to the car as Carmelita looked at the clock display on the dash. It was about 5 after 7, she had nearly spent 3 hours in the hospital. The car jolted to a halt inside the garage as the thin, aluminum door closed behind it. Killing the engine, Cross turned to her.

"You may want to get out of the car." She hastily swung the door open, welcomed by a wall of warm air that smelled of motor oil and grease. The temperature of the garage was rather comforting, despite the stench, and Cross motioned for her to come stand beside him. On the wall was a small light switch that he took to with a screwdriver laying on a saw horse nearby. After a few seconds, the rusty face of the socket cover was lifted to reveal what she recognized as a biometric scanner. The wolf placed three of his fingers on the scanner before kneeling down to eye level and looking into the crisscrossing blue and white lines. A series of chimes came for the console before he screwed the wall cover back on and stepped back. The entire building started to shake like an earthquake had struck just outside the door. To her surprise, the concrete floor began to descend, revealing the frame of a modern freight elevator and lights going down. The lurch from the elevator was enough to throw her off of her feet, and Cross helped her up as a metal plate began to slide across above them. This plate sealed the floor above, and unfortunately gave a stir to Carmelita's claustrophobia. She leaned on Matthew's Aston Martin as they were showered in a dim, blue light and watched the floors descend one by one. Cross took note of her present condition and laughed.

"If your grip gets any tighter you might rip my mirror off. It's ok, we're almost there." As if on cue, the elevator began to slow, revealing a door akin to what could be found in a submarine. Cross walked forward and turned the wheel a few times, but paused before opening it completely. He had a slight grin as he looked to Carmelita.

"Welcome to Olympus."

A/N: Songs of the Chapter

Drinking Class- Lee Brice

My Texas- Josh Abbott Band

Over When Its Over- Eric Church

What About Now- Daughtry