A/N: Lord have mercy, what a WEEKEND I've had! Let me just TELL you about my weekend – WOW!

A;lsdkfj First I went to AnthroCon. There were about 3800 registered people. I took the real Dawn and she really liked it. Some of you may have seen her – I made her registration badge say, "CON VIRGIN" lol. If her badge didn't get her any attention, her double-D's certainly did. Lol

Anyhow, I come back from Pittsburgh only to find out that I don't have a job. Talk about TEH SUX! In fact, just read my fan-fiction bio page for the details, how about that? xD

Chapter -26-
The Next Morning…
4:40am

Conner looked up from the screen of his phone. "The light just went out?"

"Yeah," replied Dawn in a soft tone. "What are you looking at on yer phone?" She squirmed in the driver seat of the stolen car then shifted her weight to get comfortable. "And why are we dropping this car off in front of a church when we're done? What does that do to help us?"

"It's better than leaving it anywhere else. And, just so you know, I'm looking up information on the driving exam on a French website. I'm old enough to drive… I wanna get my permit when all of this blows over." He stuffed his phone into his pocket then leaned forward over the dashboard, gazing up at the window on the second floor. "Yeah, it's out. They went to bed – I bet they're pissed that I didn't turn up dead like they'd expected." He grinned at her and said, "Maybe when I show you just how awesome this heist is going to be, you'll want to date me when it's over."

She changed her tone. "Don't get upset, Conner… Karla kissed me."

Silence. The raccoon boy eased back into his seat and shrugged gently. "That was out of the blue - had it on your mind, huh? Look... Dawn, you're single; you're allowed to do anything you want. I… I'm not judging you if that's what you're so worried about. Hopefully it's not; I wouldn't want you to think I'm the judgmental type – I'm not."

She lifted her paws, gesturing for him to save his words. "It wasn't nearly as good as when I last kissed you. I'm so worried about losing you again that I have gone out of my way to stay away from you lately. But with what Karla and I just did the other night…" Dawn took on a nervousness to her tone and rushed through the next awkwardly-worded sentence as if she were forcing the issue. "I had that on my shoulders and didn't want to get closer to you without making sure that it wouldn't be a secret that would hurt a relationship in the near future… so…"

"So you told me." He nodded then turned to her and lifted a paw, touching the side of her face. "I don't care if it's a phase, a misunderstanding or if it's just who you are… so what, you kissed a girl. Big freakin' deal. It happens. I kissed a girl once and nobody cared except for me. I'm totally fine with that. I just want you to be happy because I genuinely care about you. I'm genuinely attracted to you. I have feelings for you. And that girl I kissed… it was you and I liked it. That's the reason I want to do it again. And again… and again if I'm lucky."

She lowered her gaze to the steering wheel, smiling inwardly. "I appreciate that. I guess I'm sitting here going through what will happen if you succeed. And once you kiss me, I have a feeling it's going to penetrate the armor I built to protect myself from what might happen if you were …taken away from me again, y'know?"

"I understand." He closed his paw around her collar and drew her close. Their noses nearly touched. His lips were a mere inch from hers. Her breath caught and she half expected him to go all the way. She froze, swallowed and gazed up into his eyes. A grin tugged at the corners of his muzzle as their eyes met. "I just wanted to give you something to think about… something to, ah, jog your memory. Y'know why? Because I'm going to walk out of there unscathed. Then you know what happens next. But there's no use rushing into that right now… I've got to earn it first. After all, so far as I'm concerned, you're worth the wait." He leaned back then opened the passenger side door. "I'll see you soon…" He lifted a paw to the side of his face, making a gesture that resembled a telephone receiver. "Call me, babe." He grinned and snagged his father's cane from the backseat then crossed the street.

Conner broke into a hard sprint then bent his knees and launched himself upwards. He bound off of a dumpster's plastic lid then redirected his momentum. Several feet into the air, he latched onto a drainage pipe and crawled up the side of the building. He put his feet against the piping then inched upwards – rinse, dry and repeat. At the top of the pipe he edged himself over the top and onto the roof. His phone rang. The teen lifted his finger, touching the button on the receiver half-lodged within his ear. "God it's not nearly as easy as it used to be."

"You were lying motionless for three years," she reminded him. "I'm impressed that you're able to scale a wall again after such a short time. It's only been, what… a month or so?"

"Yeah," he murmured. "I used to do it with my arms alone. That was hard but now it's impossible. Okay. I'm up here and I've found the vent you mentioned would be here. How does it connect?"

"The floor plans at the archive said it's a duct system. One story down it goes into an inverted 'Y' shape. You'll want to break to the right and head down to the next story. You'll get out in a hallway, take the elevator to the second floor then climb back into the vent on the wall. You'll emerge in their bedroom, go through the vent register and find the stone thing. Do you have my goggles?"

"Yeah, they're heavier than I remember," he murmured from where he lay on the roof. Conner fished it out of his knapsack, strapped to his back. He put the goggles onto his head and activated them. The familiar phosphorescent green glow illuminated the night sky clearly. "These things are just… awesome."

"Well don't dawdle, the battery only has about half-an-hour worth of charge right now. Even at full charge, it doesn't go much more beyond that. Make your way into the vent."

Conner unfastened the vent and began to descend into the ductwork slowly. He whispered over the Bluetooth headset. "Can I tell you a little secret, too?"

"Yeah, I guess."

Conner pressed his paws outward against the duct siding and let gravity slowly drag him down one story. "I think it's really freakin' hot that you two kissed. I didn't want to say that in the car because I didn't want you to glare at me or smack me… but I think it's totally awesome."

"I don't… I enjoyed it at the time but now I feel stupid for having done it. We're supposed to be professionals and now I'm talking about making out with my whole team – drama is not something we need right now. Besides, like you said before, Karla is married."

"Like you reminded me," he returned, "Karla is separated."

"Still," she trailed off. "Your split is coming up. Remember, you're going to the right, down to the next story then out through the vent. It's a return-air register so expect a draft as you get closer to the metal cover."

"No problem. I look forward to getting out of here with this other piece."

"I bet you do," said Dawn with a snort. "By the way, what are we doing with this Fire Stone thing… we won't need it and we don't want to go taking it to Moreau's place… that would be stupid, just in case we get killed… then he'd have all the pieces."

"I'll personally put it into my family's vault. He'll never find it." Conner placed his feet on the top of the split then asked, "Which right? If I'm facing west or east?"

"Face East. If you're facing east, it'll be the vent on your right."

Conner carefully eased down the correct side of the split then used the padded palms of his gloved paws to help slow his descent to the next story. He kicked his body forward, catching the bottom of the register with his feet. It came upwards and he spilled through it. The boy dropped to the ground in a crouch and the vent cover landed in his paws, held by either side of the metallic square. "Nice… I don't think I could have done that twice in a row."

"Pardon?"

"Nothing, I just impressed myself by being graceful." He stood up and replaced the vent on the wall. "The bottom slats are a little bent but… you can hardly notice it in the dark." He turned about. "Seeing everything in green is really weird," he added, reaching for an elevator call button.

"Conner, wait… the security camera in the elevator – I can see a guy in it. It's grainy, but he has a gun showing in a holster under his arm. Jesus, it's the guy from the casino – not Boris, the other guy."

"There's an other guy?"

"The body guard guy," she said, having seen the man's face in the past, when she helped Conner break into the casino. "God damn, he's cracking his knuckles. I doubt he knows you're there. Get ready, the elevator is stopping on your floor."

"Why can't it just go by my floor? I swear…"

Dawn's tone darkened. "You pressed the 'call' button, remember dumbass?"

"Yeah, I remember, I remember." Conner put his back up against the wall, adjacent to the elevator doors. "Okay, stand by." He proceeded to hum the James Bond theme song just barely loud enough for Dawn to hear it over the phone. The doors opened.

Conner continued the humming. He thrust his cane down into the ground then vaulted around the corner, feet first, into the elevator. The smoke screen trick emanated from the cane, an ability that he'd forgotten about up until now. His feet connected with the man's torso, knocking him back against the railing on the back wall. It knocked the air out of the man. He dropped to his knees but went for his gun.

Conner, from a crouched position, lifted his head, catching the man's jaw with the backside of his skull. The connection was enough to warrant a groan from the man on the elevator floor. The doors slid shut and it began to ascend the shaft. The man kicked his legs out, throwing the frail seventeen year old up against the button panel. He dropped to his rump with a grunt. "Ow, my freakin' tailbone." The elevator came to a stop. The "Emergency Stop" button was illuminated. He thrusted the cane outward, using the arched backside of the hook to strike the man in his neck. The force wasn't enough to break his trachea but was enough to piss the man off.

He grabbed Conner's cane and thrust it back. The bottom struck the boy in his shoulder, slamming him back against the wall while Dawn watched on, helplessly, over the security camera. He could hear her getting excited and panicking over the earpiece clipped within his ear. The cane released the last of its smoke screen.

"Conner, touch the button on your goggles, opposite of the power switch! Hit it three times!" He reached up and hit the button three times and the goggle display changed to thermal. He could see through the smoke and kicked his leg upwards, catching the man in the face from where they both sat on the floor, across from one another.

Conner got up onto his knees then jabbed his paws outwards, striking the man in his torso, just beneath his ribcage. The raccoon forced his paws upwards, curled his fingers, just beneath the bottom ribs, then pulled with all of his might. A sickening pop, so loud that Dawn heard it over the phone, filled the air. Conner fell back onto his rump then waved his paw at the smoke in the air. He fumbled quickly through the settings on the goggles until everything became clear.

Conner balled his paws into fists and swung left then right, hitting the man in his face. The lumbering man stood up slowly. The teen panted, backing up against the closed elevator doors. "Jesus – two black eyes and a dislocated ribcage… and you're still getting up? Are you serious?" He thrust the cane outwards, striking the man in the crotch.

The canine yelped but still managed to reach forward, catching Conner by his neck. He lifted the raccoon straight up until his furry gray head slammed into the security camera dome mounted in the top. The dome cracked but the camera continued to function normally. Conner was dropped onto his hip at the man's feet. He then kicked at the dog's knee.

The towering tall man crumbled but dropped forward, burying his other knee into Conner's gut. The teen grunted but managed to reach his cane up, taking by either side and pulling the man's head down by the neck with it. The man resisted. Cooper quickly withdrew the cane, causing the man's head to jerk back rather suddenly. Conner then twirled the cane about and used the end to smack the man just beneath his forehead, between his eyes. Another loud snapping sound caused the boy's ears to flicker.

The man reached for his face, cupping the spot between his eyes with a loud moan of pain. Conner then drew his paw back, palm facing outwards and fingers curled in. Dawn's voice called out into his ear. "Don't you dare! If you hit his nose like that, you'll kill him, Conner! We don't need to be part of a homicide!"

Conner thrust his paw down, catching the man in his chest, once again knocking the air out of him. He took the man's gun, dropped the magazine onto the floor then thrust the slide back, ejecting the last round. He then turned the gun about and released the slide, catching the man's nose in the ejection port. He attempted to cry out in agony but had no breath with which to shout.

Finally, Conner stood up, watching as he panicked in an attempt to get the gun from his nose. The raccoon lifted his cane then brought it back down on the man's head. The large, broad-shouldered dog slumped to the ground. The gun fell to the carpeted floor. A few seconds later, his body relaxed enough to begin slow, deep breathing.

The teen muttered a string of French curse words beneath his breath that Dawn couldn't understand. He cleared his throat, sighed then turned about, touching the large '2' on the control panel. The elevator began to ascend once more. It stopped on the sixth floor. Conner pushed the man out of the elevator, stuffed him behind a massive indoor potted plant then slipped back into the elevator and took it down to the second floor.

The doors opened and a disheveled Conner Cooper stepped off. "That guy was a freakin' brick wall," he groused to Dawn. "What a pain in the ass," he added. "Okay… I'm on two… I was supposed to get into the vent and go through and into their room… but there is a sign up from the property management. It says that the ductwork on this floor is under repair. Hold tight." Conner touched the side of the goggles until he could see through the wall. "Damn… there's no duct beneath the wall, right now. What's plan B?"

"Have Karla teleport the stupid thing… it's a shame she's already left the country." Both raccoons sighed in unison. After a moment, Dawn said, "Frontal attack. Pick the lock on the door, walk in there… smack the crap out of anyone that moves… take the stone, get their guns and leave. Boris turned out to be more involved than we initially expected… if you can get him alone… see if you can't find out what the hell he's doing here."

"It's obvious… he's coming for the cane. He's obviously working for Moreau. There's no little plot twists or secret surprises, here. The guy is another paid goon. No use looking for something deeper than that… I'm not going to kill him, either. I want him to tell Moreau that a storm is coming out to sea and it's not going to be pretty."

"But then we lose our stealth advantage."

The raccoon gritted his teeth in defeat. "Okay, what do you suggest?"

"Either steal it and disappear without being seen… which may or may not happen if the rest of his coterie happen to be awake… or… you can always …uh, well… you can always break his fingers and his jaw, then he can't tell anyone anything."

Cooper deadpanned. "F – that. I'll throw his tail out the window, first." With a cracking of his knuckles, Conner headed for the door. He withdrew his cane again, gave it a twirl then reached for the hotel room doorknob. He gritted his teeth and the electronic card-key slot mechanism failed. The knob opened with ease, although a wisp of steam emanated from the nine-volt battery inside the box on the door.

"Conner? There was a lot of crackling and distortion for a second, there… everything okay?"

He smirked as he flung the door open. "Everything is just fine. Stand by." He walked in like Bogart, casual and as though he belonged there. Several men stood up from their seats and Boris looked up from his spot in front of a television. The lights in the room were all out. Conner touched the side of the electronic goggles. The fluttering distortion in the lenses finally cleared. He flipped over to night vision then cleared his throat. "Where the hell is my rock?"

"You! You're the kid who put a gun to my head in my car!" Boris stood up and pointed at Conner. "Kill the little prick!" His men all withdrew pistols from their clothing. Each one of them attached a silencer as if having rehearsed some sort of choreography.

Quick to talk his way out of the situation, Conner lifted his cane and shouted, "FINE, then you'll NEVER find the staff you were looking for!"

"Wait!" Boris began to walk towards Conner slowly. "Okay, kid… you've got my attention. But my patience… you don't have that." The Russian lynx folded his arms and narrowed his eyes. "Last I heard from you, if I recall correctly, you were looking for someone. Did you find them?"

"Tyrell Antoine Jones; yes he was a big help. I was looking for an Interpol Inspector." He gritted his teeth so as not to show them any weakness or emotion. "She's dead now so far as I know. If you don't want to end up like her then I suggest that we have a little chat about your friend Alphonse."

Dawn's voice chimed in his ear. "Don't go too far, too fast, Conner! Bringing up Moreau can be dangerous at this point… And Jesus, I thought you said your mother might still be alive?"

Conner didn't answer her. Instead, he told Boris, "Look, kitty, I had a gun to your head and I let you live. I'm not asking for special favors and I'm not looking for anyone other than the guy who is looking for that staff. He's got something of mine and I don't like how he's not come out of hiding in quite some time."

The lynx narrowed his gaze. "Do you think this is some sort of game, kid? My boys have guns trained on your head. These four men will kill you without so much as flinching. What do you know of that man, anyhow, and where is my staff?"

"I have it at my place. Whoever the sniper is… he missed. I hope all your gunmen are better qualified than that guy."

"You're liking this, aren't you?" Boris unfolded his arms and began to pace in front of Cooper. "You little twerp, you like feeling as though you have power and importance. Do you think I am stupid?" He pivoted on his heel and turned directly towards Conner. "You sniveling little whelp, your precious Interpol agent isn't dead, she's just indisposed at the moment. Hostages are useful as bargaining chips. I know she's your mother, kid. I know you're angry that The Fonz has her and I know you have that staff. One of us will still have it in his possession at the end of this conversation… The other one will be dead."

"We don't have to go down that route," said Conner. "I have no problems letting you live again." He kept his composure, regardless of the excitement that coursed through his body at hearing Boris' words about his mother. Several of the gunners snickered at the boy's daring words.

The lynx turned and began to walk away, heading back towards the television. "Remember how I said I have a short span of patience? It's about to run out."

"I'm here for the Fire Stone – you stole it from me back in India. I'll be taking what's mine and leaving without any trouble, if you'd like to play this smart."

Dawn groaned over the headset. "I hope you have something to back yourself up in there. You're talking a good game but you surely don't have someone like Karla to back you up, right now."

Conner cleared his throat loudly and said, "Where is it and I'll let you live. Ten seconds."

"Give me my staff or you'll die… five seconds."

"You'll have to force that information out of me… Stop wasting our time. We're both busy gentlemen and time is money. Where is my stone, Boris?"

The lynx turned about and half-heartedly waved a paw. "Beat it out of this kid, boys."

All four men approached Conner, guns raised. Cooper cleared his throat. "You are making a serious mistake, Boris."

"Kid… after we beat it out of you, I'll make sure I put in a word to Fonzie. That Interpol cop? I'll make sure he kills her off – he has plenty of other hostages to use. She was annoying to me and now you're annoying me about her. She needs to die because you couldn't keep your yap shut. Now give me my goddamned staff. Boys, rip him apart until he begs to tell us what we want to know. And keep it down so we don't wake up the other hotel patrons… no need bringing attention to ourselves."

Conner gritted his teeth and tensed up from the threat. He clinched the shaft of his cane so tightly that his knuckles almost seemed to bulge. He turned to head towards Boris just as one of the men drew back his fist. The first punch caught Conner in the side of his head. The young raccoon shouted at the top of his lungs in rage.

The television flickered violently then darkened. A thick, vibrant stream of energy lanced from out of the power supply. The intensely powerful alternating current arced through the air and struck Conner's cane. His fur stood on end and his hair lifted. His eyes glowed and the cane illuminated the room in a soft yellow lightning.

Teeth gritted, he waved a paw at the nearest man. A brilliant flash of lightning burst from his fingertips and struck the man who had just thrown the punch. Sixteen hundred watts came from Conner's body – all that could be given from the wall jack at once… It connected with the man, coursing through his body in an instant. The gun in the man's hand began to glow until all the bullets went off at once, causing the man's paw to burst in a splatter of gooey crimson. He cried out in agony.

Another guard grabbed Conner by the next but all the electricity surging through the raccoon's body was temporarily forced into the attacker's paw. The discharge of electricity caused the man's body to be thrown clear across the room. His body curled up into a fetal position, disappearing through the drywall and into the hotel bathroom.

Conner whirled about, swinging his cane. It connected with the third man. The electrostatic transference of energy caused the man's body to be thrown clear across the room, flipping over the sofa. The cane's follow-through swing caught the fourth man's gun. Upon contact, the weapon became incredibly hot, forcing the man to drop it.

Conner turned about, took the man by his throat then the raccoon doubled over, hurling the man into one of the other dazed mercenaries. Boris turned about, watching in shock as Conner dispatched all four of his guards.

Conner's narrowed slits seemed to look straight through the man. "That stone is in this room. I'll find it myself – you're no longer of any use to me… so there's no point in you living."

"Wait!" Boris cleared his throat, now seeking to buy himself precious minutes to live. The feline watched in shock as the teenage boy turned about and easily dispatched one of the armed men with his cane.

The raccoon snagged the man by his throat in the hook then shifted his weight, flipping the first goon into the second and abruptly electrocuting both. It left two men, one without a paw and the other cradling his burned palm, unable to pick up his orange-glowing weapon.

Boris began to breathe quickly from fear. "You'll never make it passed Crusher, kid. Crusher will rip you apart and eat you alive." He backed away slowly.

"Where's my stone," asked Conner in a calm voice. "I want it." A gun cocked from his left. He reached to the left and placed his paw atop a weapon being pointed at his hip. His fingertips closed around the slide of a Glock pistol, forcing it down. Within seconds the barrel melted. A cooked round fired but struck the floor. Again another round struck the floor even with the bent barrel. A third round cooked off and fired from the heat put into the frame. Conner kept his gaze on Boris. "I'm told I have one hell of a temper… And I'm seriously about to lose it."

"Look man," said the lynx in a professional sounding tone. "Was the information I gave you accurate before?"

"It was."

"And you found yer mother, right, kid?"

"…Yes."

Boris shrugged. "Then I've done nothing to earn your distrust. I'm here doing a job. My job is to get that staff and that stone and give it to M. I'm just doing a job."

"Yeah?" Cooper smirked. "My job is to take that stone, that staff and everything that Doctor M. has and what I do from that point on is nobody's business but mine. My job may very well lead to me killing you if you're in my way. So where do we go from here – you tell me."

"Are there any other options?" Boris folded his arms, shifted his weight and narrowed his gaze.

"I pay you to look the other way. You hand me the stone, leave the country, don't return and, when you've done all that, you can also turn a blind eye to whatever you read in the paper about the Atlantic Ocean in a few days."

"You don't have enough to buy my loyalty."

Soft feminine laughter filled Cooper's ear from Dawn, who was still listening in on the conversation from his earpiece. The raccoon shook his head slowly. "I have enough money to make you volunteer to walk on all fours whenever you're in my presence for the rest of your life."

Boris went silent. The lynx began a slow pace across the carpet. "That's a dilemma. First of all, I'd need to see proof of this – I'd want that money in cash and in a short amount of time. We could arrange a buy and I could take that money and go underground for a while… My only stipulation is that the purchase price is for the stone and to walk away… not to give out his contact information; if you want to find him, you'll have to do that research yourself, without my help. It's up to you, kiddo."

"You still think I'm bluffing so you're not taking me seriously. My other option is that I kill you and your men right now. I've never taken the lives of a group of people but I'm not against it if I'm doing so in defense… self preservation goes a long way and I already showed you that I'm temperamental. So what's it going to be?"

"One billion dollars." He drew a nice blazer from a hook and pulled it on then adjusted the lay of the material over himself.

Conner calmly turned to the man who recently held the Glock and asked, "What's your price?"

Boris quirked a brow. "He's under my payroll. Don't give him anything."

"Hey!" shouted the man still favoring his burnt right paw.

Without blinking an eye, Boris lifted a previously hidden weapon and pulled the trigger. Conner quickly brought his paws to his ears, groaning from the pain of the loud blast. When the ringing in his ears subsided, he could hear Boris speaking. "…Everyone in the hotel let alone anyone in the vicinity. We should leave." He tossed the one-shot pistol on the fallen man's chest that now lay on the floor bleeding from a fatal headshot.

Conner leered at the dead man and swallowed in silence. Boris snapped his fingers to get the raccoon's attention then continued to talk. "I only had one round – I could have used it on you while you were distracted. As you can see, I shot him to simplify things – just the way I like it; no complications and no drama. Listen to me, boy – I am a businessman and I get things done. If someone's life gets between my business and me they die. In the end, I come out on top every single time."

"You're disgusting. A billion dollars won't buy you out of the hole you're digging for yourself."

"I'll buy my way out of any holes I get into. Don't worry yourself with that. Lead the way out of here. If you don't follow through, you'll be joining Simon Lancaster, here, on the floor." He offered a swift kick while stepping over the man's dead body then said, "There's nothing magical about a hole – money can solve anything if applied the right way."

"You're wrong," said Conner. "I have it and it doesn't fix my problems. The hole, believe it or not, is magical in a sense. You can spend your entire life climbing up from a hole. When you finally get to the top, one wrong move and you'd be all the way back at the bottom. Don't fall into that sort of thing."

"Shut up kid – this is an opportunity for me. I'm here for financial benefit. I'm about to be either a billion bucks richer or you're about to discover the cure for death – a bullet in between your eyes."

"You're a real class act," murmured the raccoon. "What's to say I don't rip your head off and take that stone from you." Conner brazenly turned, keeping his back to the man, knowing his greed would keep him from rushing into making any sudden moves. "It's on you right now, after all. I saw it when you were in your jeep, earlier, and I saw it when I walked in through the door."

"Perceptive."

"Yeah, thanks." Conner opened the door for him then continued out of the hotel.

He could hear Dawn speaking into his ear. "What are you doing? This wasn't the plan. You're a thief not an auctioneer. Are you crazy?" To her words, Conner did not respond.

Once outside of the hotel, Conner turned to the right, walked down the block and into an alley. "It's not far. We're parked out back, behind the hotel." He purposely stopped walking in the dark, causing Boris to bump into him from behind. A dense object could be felt against his left hip. Conner began walking again. At the edge of the alley he said, "I thought you were out of bullets and guns… not very fair, keeping it hidden beneath your dress jacket."

"So much for your perceptive abilities, kid." Boris smirked. "Guess the tables have turned since last we saw one another. Why'd you stop, anyway? You wanted to see if I had a gun, huh? Clever kid."

"I stopped to listen," Conner replied. "If someone else is following us, I'll hear their footsteps when I stop. I only heard one other set of footfalls – yours – so we're safe. You just happened to jam the barrel of your other gun into me when you collided… Don't be so paranoid."

"Far from paranoid, kid."

Conner smiled to himself, keeping Boris behind. He lowered his eyes to his paw and the red stone hidden within his fist. He stealthily deposited the stone, stolen during the collision in the alley, and cleared his throat to create a distraction while putting it into a concealed shirt pocket. "My mistake, Boris. I think you actually want to shoot me and don't want any money at all."

"If that were the case you'd be bleeding right now. I want some effing money, chump. I understand the Cooper family has a substantial amount of loot hidden away. I doubt it's anywhere near a billion… but whatever I get will be more than I already have… and if it's less than what you promised, I shoot you. Then I become rich AND you become dead. So you better start sweating bullets now, because you'll be riddled with them soon."

"A billion dollars is chump change, Boris. My family doesn't even know how much money they have. The last family member to be interested in math enough to actually inventory it… lived in the late eighteen hundreds, sometime after Tennessee Kid Cooper. He counted it again just before the First World War. It took a long time. With all that's been added to it since then, not to mention inflation, I'm willing to wager that his last estimate is now a little …off."

"Which was…?"

"Two and a third septillion in American currency – he lived in Chicago, stealing from mobsters who made their money illegally."

"Septillion, huh? Two at that… Let's see; if memory serves me right, it goes… Trillion, then Quadrillion, then quintillion, then sextillion, then septillion." Then, for your family to have two septillion is quite unbelievable."

"It includes liquidate-able assets, like …Oh, I don't know… jewelry, old technology that sits in a museum inside the Kane vault… all sorts of crap. Paintings, murals, tapestries, whatever – you name it."

"If that's the case, I want more than a billion dollars, kid."

"Dude, how are you going to even transport a billion in gold coins? It's going to be rather difficult to get that money off the island in the middle of the South Pacific. Micronesia is a big place and you'll need a big boat that can still stay below the radar. Good luck – that's your problem, though… not mine."

Boris jabbed the gun against Conner's shoulder. "Guess you'll be bribing people to look the other way, won't you?"

Conner gritted his teeth. "Poke me again with that gun. We'll be amending this oral agreement real fast."

Boris, feeling challenged, jammed the gun into Conner's back forcefully, keeping it pressed against the raccoon's body. Cooper gritted his teeth, tensed his body, clinched his paws into fists and growled hotly. His body's temperature began to escalate.

"You send a charge into my gun and it'll cook off a round… and you'll have a bullet in your body. You don't want to do that, now do you?"

Conner quickly jerked his cane down, snagging Boris' leg with the hooked end. Intense electricity was forced into the man's lower body, causing his legs to buckle and his body to lock up tightly. He dropped to the ground, temporarily stunned. The raccoon pivoted about, put the cane against the man's throat and withdrew the stone with his other paw. "See this? I've had it since you bumped into me a moment ago. This is the part where we go our separate ways. This is also the part where the good Doctor terminates you for screwing up, buddy." He drew his cane back and swung it like a golf club, striking Boris in the forehead.

He placed a finger to his ear and said, "He's down, Dawn. Where do you want to meet?" No reply. "Dawn?" Cooper withdrew his phone and frowned. The screen was blank. He checked his earpiece and it appeared to have a dead battery. The small LED indicator wouldn't even illuminate. "Crap…" He turned about and hurried out of the alley.

The raccoon hurried around the corner, across the street and into the next alley. Rather suddenly he felt pain in his head. All at once everything went dark…

"…You okay?" The voice was fading in and out. "Are you okay? Answer me," it said, fading out once more. "Conner, wake up!" He groaned in reply but his head hurt too much to open his eyes just yet.

"I'm… I'm here – what happened?"

Her voice was soft but full of concern. "You were struck in the forehead by a wooden baseball bat. You're lucky you have such a hard head – there's no sign of any major trauma and, aside from a knot on your forehead, you should be just fine."

He gritted his teeth in pain and rubbed his right temple. "Did they steal…?" He brought his other paw to his chest then sighed in relief, feeling the lump in his shirt. "Who was it?" He tried opening his eyes but they were swollen shut. "I feel like crap."

"You look like crap," said Dawn. "We even missed our flight out of town because you wouldn't wake up. I thought about taking you to a hospital but you let that guy live… so he's probably hunting for you right now. What happened to your phone? The battery is worthless in both the phone and your headset."

"I… remember how I can make the cane glow?"

"Yeah." Her paw felt soft against his cheek. He nuzzled into the touch, listening to her breathing for a moment.

Conner swallowed then opened only his right eye. "I did that a few times… new stuff happened – I tried it again on Boris and after that, I couldn't hear you in my ear anymore. I think I fried my stuff. How are your goggles? Did they get broken when I was hit? Did I fry them?"

"The attack was to your face… the goggles were on your head but they apparently fell downwards – the strap was wrapped around your neck. They were scuffed up, but they're fine. And no, the battery cell is different from the battery used by your cell and your earpiece. Oddly, it's fully charged after your little show. Aren't you going to ask how you wound up with me instead of in one of a closet or something?"

Conner pried open his swollen left eye. "You rescued me?"

"Yeah – I ran in there without so much as thinking things through… it was stupid of me. But… everything Karla has taught me during those combat training sessions… well… it paid off. I don't really have any nice nails left… I've got to buy a few more… And I jammed my left thumb because I accidentally tucked it into my palm when throwing a punch… but," she trailed off then chuckled. "Damn. You should have seen me, Conner… You'd have been proud."

"How many?"

"Four – you did a lot of the work."

"I…did?" He sat up with another groan and looked around the dark setting. "Where are we?"

"Boris' hotel room. I got the key off of him – he was out cold and, last I checked, he was still in that alley, laid out good… arms all the way out, legs all the way apart, tongue hanging out… it was awesome. Anyhow, we're in his room. We should go, though… Anyhow, when you were unconscious, one of them grabbed you by the throat and you tensed up. Your blood pressure spiked or …something. Either way, you shocked everyone in that alley. Then I knocked out three of them. By then, the fourth one had come around and so I fought him. He beat the hell out of me but in the end, he got sloppy."

Conner groaned again, rubbing at his head. He was in serious pain with an intense headache and the inability to blink very well. "He messed up?"

"He picked me up and threw me. I landed right besides you. I picked up your cane then swung it hard and got him right in the crotch. After that, I tore him apart and hit him with your cane a few more times. Finally, the damn thing was too hot to handle, so I wedged it into your belt and dragged you, by your arms, back to the hotel. When we got back here, there were cops all over. I let them wrap up their investigation then took you into the room, which is still corded off…"

"Those kinds of investigations take hours, especially involving the dead since Boris shot one of his own men…"

"Conner, all that stuff happened yesterday. You were out for almost twenty-four hours. I've been looking up crap on the net to make sure you weren't in a coma… but you were responsive and, at one point, you even started talking in your sleep so…"

He eased up onto his elbow at first then eased up to a sitting position. They were in bed together. He immediately blushed and reached his paw down, further, beyond the hem of his shirt. He wore boxers but his pants were missing. "What happened to my shoes and all that stuff?"

"Your pants are draped over a chair. There's no use in worrying about them… I wanted you comfortable. Here, see for yourself." She took his paw and drew it over to her leg. No pants, just underwear. Again his face flushed, bringing fresh pain to the swelling around his left eye and the knot on his forehead. "See, Conner? Comfortable." She paused then sighed – the tone of her voice changed. "The truth is, I had to launder your pants."

"I…uh. Why?"

"You were unconscious for a whole day… you figure it out. It's understandable - you were fully out cold for a full day. There are coin-operated machines down the hall."

"That's really embarrassing."

"Don't let it bother you. In real life, nothing happens perfectly. Besides, men are cute when they're vulnerable."

He rubbed at his forehead then, in a softer, more humbled voice, asked, "How do you mean?"

"In a story book or in a movie name one thing that's always perfect in a scene?"

He paused then announced, "Sex scenes."

She offered a dull glare. "Okay, fair enough… and in real life, the guy and girl are engaged in foreplay and if the girl doesn't know what she's doing… the guy will probably wince and say, "Careful, watch the teeth down there…ow!" That stuff doesn't happen in a novel. Well… you were out and I took care of you. Don't be embarrassed when reality happens to us. Needless to say, no big."

Conner fidgeted in silence. After a moment or so, he murmured the word, "Cool." Finally, he added, "Thank you – I appreciate it. I'm sorry."

She shrugged and patted his shoulder. "It's fine. You'd do the same for me. We're cool. You've been out for a day after breaking a hard sweat... ya might want to get a shower or whatever."

"You want to join?"

Dawn laughed softly. "Slow your roll. You got away with the stone but I only promised you a kiss. Go get cleaned up – the hot water will help your aching… everything. Muscles, joints, face, whatever… just go take a shower. I'll wait here for you."

"God. I still feel embarrassed. Also, I'll need a new phone, we've got to get tickets back to America and …just…"

"It's all taken care of," she told him. "Just go get cleaned up. We're going to stay one more night and leave in the morning. And stop feeling so embarrassed."

"Still…"

"Oh for heaven sake." She gave him a slight shove. "Go shower. Your fur needs it. Hurry up. There's a hotel-branded bathrobe in there, waiting for you. You've had that shirt on way too long. I'll put it in with the next load then when we leave in the morning, everything will smell fresh."

"Th-thanks." He slid out of bed and dizzily wandered over to the bathroom attached to the hotel bedroom. He left the door wide open, walked to the stand-up shower stall, opened the clear glass door and flipped on the faucet. He disrobed quickly and slinked into the booth, shutting the hinged glass section behind himself.

Dawn lay on the bed, watching him with a shake of her head. "You feel comfortable enough to shower right in front of me… but the thought of me taking care of you while you were unconscious actually bothers you? Why?"

"I feel comfortable around you," he called to her over the water. "But I don't like the thought of you having to take care of me like a baby or something."

"It had to be done. Stop worrying about it. I won't tell anyone – your manhood is salvaged."

Conner grumbled. "It's not that I'm embarrassed about feeling vulnerable or whatever… You like seeing that side of me anyhow as I recall. I just don't like the thought of having to inconvenience you. Also, I don't like the fact that I…"

"You were knocked out for a whole DAY! In real life, people use the bathroom, brush their teeth, eat, breathe, scratch an itch, pick their nose; they obsess over things, they feel shame and they sometimes even feel appreciation when someone helps them!"

Conner winced. "You're right, you're right… I'm sorry – I'm wallowing in my own shame, here, huh? I really do appreciate that you took care of me. I'm very thankful that I can count on you and that I had you there to help me. Just one more reason why I still have feelings for you. I mean… my coma may've lasted three years for everyone else but… for me I felt like I woke up the next morning… and after what feels like knowing you for like… a solid two months or more… I feel as though I'm starting to fall in love with you. It's not rushed for me… I hope that you don't feel awkward or whatever…"

Dawn slid off the bed and sauntered into the bathroom. She placed a paw on the glass, looking into his eyes. Twice, his own amber gaze dropped to look at her smoothly furred legs and lacey panties. Once his eyes lifted back to hers, she announced, "I'm struggling with my emotions. I went three years with other mates… and recently I fooled around with a teammate… but deep down, I still have feelings reserved only for you. You're special to me and I adore you. I've now see your temperamental side, your angry side and your most vulnerable-of-all side. And after all of the things that have happened lately… you still look at me with longing and a sort of tenderness I can't even… it's just… it's all really sweet. I'm not rushing back into dating you – I need to make sure you aren't going to die first… but… I do look forward to kissing you again. You've earned it after all."

Conner opened the glass panel again. There he stood in the shower without a reply. Finally, he did something unexpected, even to himself. He reached forward, took her by the wrists and pulled her into the shower. He pressed his lips against hers. At first she resisted in order to stay dry but, in the end, she gave in and threw her arms around his neck.

The teenage boy's lips meshed against her soft warm lips and in return she slanted her mouth against his. They kissed with a shared passion. She cupped either side of his muzzle and he placed his paws upon her hips. She eased her tongue forward until it brushed against his. Excited, the boy returned the gesture – his tongue swirled against hers and the rest of the world melted away for the moment. Hot water ran down their faces and matted their hair down. Neither cared. They embraced one another and continued the intensely delicious joining with the sensuality of an intimate kiss, both of which were soaked to the bone.

Her paws began to roam over his chest, exploring his body. His fingers moved over her blouse, unbuttoning it. He helped draw the shirt from her then dropped it in the corner with a loud 'shlop' sound. He eased his paws around her and fumbled with her bra working the first two clasps undone only to struggle with the last one. Without breaking the kiss, Dawn reached back and thumbed the last one open for him with ease. She then shrugged it from her arms and dropped it to the bottom of the shower stall. Their bodies were now soapy from the fur cleanser solution he had lathered in, just moments before she'd joined.

Conner then ran his paws over her back, coming to the hem of her underwear. Not yet ready to rush, he brought his paws around to her tummy then upwards. His touch had some sort of effect, causing her to shudder visually from the desire she'd locked away in her chest. She placed her paws back on his chest and shoved him up against the wall, lips still locked.

Now noticeably taller than her after three long years… he pivoted, turning her about until she had her back up against the shower wall. He pressed his torso firmly against hers, took her by the wet cloth hips and suckled on her passion-bruised lips. The firmness with which he kissed her caused her to groan with desire, grinding her body against his. The soapsuds ran down their thighs, washed away by the hot water.

His thumbs hooked into the hem of her waistline. She placed a paw upon his forearm, pushing downwards and he reacted to her guidance by pushing the undergarment down her legs. The wet cloth clung to her knees and she wiggled but they stayed in place. Conner lifted his left foot, placed it between her thighs then lowered his footpaw, pushing her panties down to her ankles. She stepped out of the wet fabric then kicked them away and wrapped her arms around him.

Now lost to desire and passion, he placed his paws beneath her rump and lifted her up against the wall. Her legs lifted, easing about him. The hot-blooded pair continued their blissful kissing and tactile exploration of one another while grinding their forms together. The hot water changed to cold and all at once, both of them scrambled to get out of the shower booth together. They rushed out of the bathroom and collapsed to the carpet side-by-side, half-laughing.

"So much for perfect story-book romance," he said with a semi-disappointed chuckle.

"Yeah… funny how reality is way more harsh than fictional romance. I guess I should put both our shirts and undies back into the wash. And… thank you, Conner. That was a really nice kiss. I enjoyed it. I can't believe we lost it for a second there."

"Well, I am a virgin, still, so…"

She grinned at him, pushing wet hair away from her face. "You sure as hell don't kiss like one."

He rubbed his sore left eye but grinned at her. "Well thanks, I'm glad you liked it as much as I did. I guess we should dry off."

"Yeah… that'd be a good idea. Too bad there is only one bathrobe. I'll need it to take these clothes down to the laundry room… I guess we're sleeping in the buff tonight."

He smiled. "No complaints here." A pause, then, "I sure wish we were in a harlequin romance novel right about now. Heh… I don't know why things keep coming up, creating situations that are less than perfect or romantic."

Dawn grinned, turning her head towards him. Her hair splayed across her face causing her to look rather beautiful. "Maybe we're trapped in some sort of comedy."

"All I know is… I want you." He offered a tired grin then propped himself up on an elbow. "A lot."

A devious little expression tugged at the corner of her muzzle and she moved closer to him, placing a paw upon his chest. "Is that right?" She leaned in closer until her lips gently brushed against his…

A/N: At least now I have more time to write, huh?