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Rigby sat in her own corner of the cell, seemingly a mile away from Peabody and the sleeping boy leaning against him. Sherman had finally passed out from the exhaustion of the whole affair, including being led into town—And straight into a prison with the artist and genius.

"Tell me the worse we'll get is a fine…" Rigby asked, doing her best to muster a laugh.

Peabody lifted up his glasses and rubbed his eyes, "I suppose at this rate I may have to call in a sick day for him in school."

"So do you always get in this much trouble?"

"Usually it's a bit more," Peabody admitted, gently sliding Sherman off of him and onto the floor, and then walking over to the wooden door in front of them. "Hrm."

"I'm… I'm sorry again."

"As am I for the outburst. But… You have to understand that the level for devotion is deep enough where it's the only reasonable reaction."

"You love him."

"…Yes… Miss Rigby, how much do you weigh?"

"E-Excuse me?" she stood and walked over to the door.

"How much do you weigh?"

"Nineteen pounds?"

Peabody raised an eyebrow at this and scanned her up and down.

"…All right! Twenty-one pounds! Why?"

"This should work, then," Peabody started to undo the belt around his robe, and Rigby immediately lurched back.

"Your kid's in here! What do you think you're—" Rigby attempted to swat the dog away as he reached up and plucked out a hairpiece from atop her head. He assessed the weight of this long metal hairpiece in his hand, and then attached it to his belt and stood back. He began to swing the hairpiece attached to the belt, and then threw it, testing the hold of it with a few good tugs.

"You're going to be the one to climb up."

"Why me?"

"You're the smallest on in the group, and you have no collarbone given that you're a cat, so it makes it easier for you to wiggle your way through. Take this belt up and over. The hallway's twenty feet down to the guard. You can quietly sneak down, grab the keys, and work your way back down."

"I-I can't do that!"

"I believe in you," replied the dog, holding out the belt sash to her. Rigby looked at it for a moment, sighed, and grabbed onto it, working her way up to the opening. With a little bit of squeezing and a lot of regrets over snacking in the past, she made it out, yelping as she hit the ground on the other side.

"Rigby!" Peabody whispered in a hiss. "Are you—"

"I'm fine!" she muttered, rising shakily. "I'm fine…"

She dusted off the kimono, rotated her shoulder so the one fallen sleeve of it fell back into place, and began the quiet as could be walk down the hall to the napping guard. The black and white cat shirked away as she heard footsteps, and without too much thought, she rolled herself up in a ball next to the said sleeping guard, so that all that was visible was the fabric of her kimono.

"Yoshizaki fell asleep again…" grumbled one of the guards to the other as they loomed over the napping man in the corner. "…Hey, I think that's his lunch there… See what the lazy lout brought."

"Right," Rigby stiffened as she felt herself being lifted by the obi. For a moment she faced the stunned guard, and then drew out all of her claws.

Peabody heard a yowling and screams from the other side of the door, and Sherman immediately bolted upright from his sleep.

"Mr. Peabody! What's going on!?"

"Nothing, Sherman, nothing—Just working on plan "B", seeing as how "A" had only a 67% success rate and from the sound of it took the A Train out of here," Peabody answered, having, while Rigby walked down the hall, successfully disassembled a wooden bucket, laid the pieces from it out against the door, and stuck the explosive substance he'd formed from little more than dried persimmon and some scrapings from the wall of the cell that he'd managed to find.

He took two rocks he'd picked up from the floor of the cell and poised them in above the wood kindling, "Sherman, I'd step back."

"All right…" the boy did so cautiously, "Mr. Peabody—"

"Now cover your ears," Peabody instructed, and the boy did so, shuddering and shirking away from the explosion that followed. Peabody immediately took the boy by the hand and hopped over the rubble, Sherman stumbling along the way.

"Rigby!" Peabody called out to the cat, who had been cornered by the three guards on one side of the hall. "Sherman! Go! I'll be right there!"

"Wait, what!?"

"Just go to the WABAC! We'll be there in a moment!" Peabody called out, rushing down the hall.

Sherman could have sworn he heard a loud "thud" as he ran away from the cells, ducking out of the guards and into the shadows. The boy then sighed in relief as he watched the dog and cat running side-by-side down the hall—No guards seemingly following after them.

"Sherman, hurry out of here now—I dislodged a beam and these gentlemen are going to find themselves trapped in a moment! Because it's not a Peabody visit without bringing the house down!"

"I don't get it!" called the boy as he ran alongside the two, tripping moments before making it out of the structure. Peabody spun around in the dirt, turning the same time Rigby did, and both shared a glance for only a split second before either grabbing Sherman by an arm and leading him the final steps out of the small jail before the roof fell.

"…They'll be fine," Peabody assured the pair, self-consciously closing his robe with his left hand as he stood amidst the destruction. "We should be off now."

"Yeah," both the boy and the cat nodded quickly in agreement.

Rigby managed to avoid the two for the rest of the evening, mainly sequestering herself off in her room with a sketchbook. She cringed at the low knock on the door, but was relieve to find it was merely Sherman, now dressed for bed.

"Your dad sent you?"

"No… Can I…?"

"Sure," she patted the bed and continued her sketching. "It's your house, after all. Can't sleep after everything?"

"I guess not…" Sherman climbed atop the bed, tilting his head as he looked over the cat's shoulder, "So you can do other styles, too?"

"My mom taught me how… Well, kind of. I learned a lot of my own, too."

"Like Mr. Peabody when he was little. Well, without the mom… But he taught himself a lot of stuff! Hey, is that supposed to be me?"

"Yeah—What do you think?" she offered him the sketchbook, which he took and started to flip through, page by page.

"My teeth look kinda funny… Who's that?" he asked, pointing to a colored sketch of a blonde woman seated on a sandy beach, laughing and barely keeping a straw hat on top of her head.

"That was my mom…"

"Your mom… Was a human?"

"Well don't look so shocked!" Rigby laughed. "I'd imagine that wouldn't surprise you!"

"But you still act a lot like a cat."

"And you act a lot like a boy."

"Where is your mom, anyway?"

"She… Well, one day a long time ago, we were on a boat headed to Bhutan, and it got a little stormy and… You know. She's somewhere she's happy," Rigby allowed for Sherman to hand her back the sketchpad, and she resumed her drawing with charcoal, not minding the smudging on her paws.

Sherman knew that look on her face, and his voice fell, "…Sorry..."

"…It's okay…" Rigby's answered in a hush, and her sketching became slower.

"Are you upset that my dad yelled?"

"I'm upset I let you do that without thinking. I guess I'm just sort of used to looking out for only me," Rigby admitted with a shrug.

"Thanks… For taking the fall for that. And for helping out in the jail."

"You're a good kid. You deserve a break every now and again. Just… Don't give your dad as much trouble. He's already white, don't make him go gray," she leaned over and ruffled his hair. "Now get to bed, or I'm sure he'll have me made into a violin by the morning."

"Goodnight!" Sherman called out after hopping down from the bed. He ran to the doorway, only to run into his father. Sherman rubbed his chest, whereas Peabody rubbed his muzzle after colliding with the boy.

"I was just coming to look for you. Come on now, Sherman. It's time for bed."

"Right!" the little boy said, and rushed down to his room, Peabody shutting the door of the guest room.

"Now, we've had a long day, so if you want to sleep an extra five minutes before school I won't blame you," Peabody said as he adjusted the sheets of Sherman's bed.

"Hey… Mr. Peabody… Can… I tell you something? And you promise you won't be mad?"

"I promise."

"I started climbing across the log. She told me not to, but… I didn't listen," the boy said quietly. Peabody stopped the preparation of his son's bed, and after a moment of thought, pulled back the sheets, signaling for his son to hop into bed. "She jumped in after me."

"Thank you for admitting that to me. I'll have to have a talk with her," said Peabody as he tucked the sheets around his son and leaned in to hug him. "Have you thought anymore about what you might want for your birthday?"

"Yeah… I think I might want a mom. Rigby had one. They seem nice. And you won't have to work so hard all of the time that way!" the boy said after a moment's thought, his eyebrows furrowed as he looked up to the ceiling. Peabody immediately stopped his tucking in the sheets.

"I…. see. Well… We'll see," he brushed aside some of his son's hair, and then switched off the lamp to the room. "Goodnight, Sherman."

"Goodnight, Mr. Peabody!" Sherman replied with a yawn.

"…That's a much taller order than a bicycle," Peabody whispered to himself, slapping his forehead and leaning against the wall of the hallway. He never thought he'd miss the walls of the Kyoto prison.