The sun reflected of the office window and lit up the room. Usually the sound of shuffling papers could be heard, but the room was quiet. George sat hunched over his desk just staring at the pile of work he was suppose to be going over. Every once and awhile he pick up a page and pretend to read it, then put it back in the pile.

A sigh escaped his lips as he sat back in his chair and pushed away from his desk. His mind wandered and he couldn't focus on any of his current tasks. Shaking his head, he turned his chair to look out the window. The sun was shining, it was a nice day, but he couldn't find a reason to smile.

The previous night's events kept replaying in his mind. 'Why did Heart want that book? Is she really working for Wong?' He shook his head again and turned back to his desk. He had placed the book inside the side drawer. 'Why?'

As he thought about last night, his mind began to wonder from one thought to another.

"Rachel..."

He shook his head at once from the thought. 'No matter what I do, I can't stop thinking about her. I wonder if she's even in the city still.'

Resting the side of his face in his hand he looked out the window once more. It's just as well though. He could never marry or start a relationship because of his... 'night job'. He sighed as he looked over to a corner of his office. There was a hidden department by his book shelf where he kept his outfit, gear and other odds and ends from jobs he had done in the past. He frowned.

How long had he watched Heart search his office for the book? She did not even see him but he could tell she sensed something wrong. She was well trained, if not a bit rough around the edges. George had always been graceful on his feet.

Even at a young age he could sneak up on his mother or others with out them ever knowing he was there. He had been quick with his hands as well. He use to play games on his childhood friends by taking things or items and putting them in other places.

He would pick pocket only to amuse himself but he never kept what he took. He had stopped when his mother caught him one day trying to take something from one of their neighbors. She scolded him and made him promise he never do it again. He did, until her death. It had effected him so deeply that he began to work out and train more to keep his mind off of it. Doing a slight of hand here, taking a pocket watch there. All simple. Then one day, he walked out of a museum, holding a painting that was reported to have odd disappeared later on.

And so it began. Just doing taken things to see if he could do it. He would later sell them items to buyers or keep the few himself. But he always took what he felt wouldn't be missed. When his father died and gave him the business, he turn his whole ideas around. When he realized at how much corruption was going on around him, began to take things from cruel or greedy business men and then donating them to museums. That's how the Cat was born. The newspapers had given him the name, a spotter on the street claiming to see a man move with the grace of a cat. He had liked the idea and his outfit was made around the idea. The man like cat.

Looking up from his thoughts, George once again turned back to his desk. He didn't want to be caught not working. He just stared at the papers on his desk, until he heard his door open. A blue haired man entered the room quietly.

"Yuki... Can I help you?"

"Sorry to just walk in. I knocked but got no response." The man walked over to George's desk and set a tape on it. "This is from the security cameras. The security guard asked me to bring it up."

George raised a brow and glanced at the tape. "Why?"

"He thought you might like to see it. One of the "card" thieves was here as well at The Cat." Yuki turned to leave. "Strange, nothing was found missing this morning."

"Yuki," George called after the office assistant. "Don't let anyone use you as a delivery boy. That's not your job."

"It beats filing papers all day. I need the exercise." With that said, Yuki walked out of the office closing the door behind him.

George just shook his head and looked back at the tape. He thought about just tossing the tape away, but that might have seemed odd. He picked it up and looked it over, before placing it on his desk again. Then he thought about what Yuki had said. What had he meant but 'strange'?

Shaking it off, George slid the tape over to the edge of his desk and went back to staring at the work he should have been doing. He sighed, unable ton concentrate.

After moments of doing nothing he looked at his desk of papers and then slowly at the tape. His hand twitched and quickly he picked it up. Looking it over and ran a finger down one side of the tape and then stood up. Looking around quickly he moved towards the back of his office where he had a large television set. Turning it on, he placed the tape in.

He rubbed his index finger against his thumb for a while looking at the Play button. Why was he nervous about this? Finally he pushed play and on the screen, his office appeared. Nothing out of the odd. He had made sure to move the cameras so that he could sneak around his office as the Cat without being noticed or discovered by his guards. For a while nothing happened so he pushed Forward until he saw a figure move. Quickly rewinding a bit, he pushed play and watched. He watched her make her motions slow at first, studying the place and then moving to his desk.

The tape continued on, he saw the exchange over the book in question and turned it off. There was something about the way Heart moved, and acted. He couldn't place it though. However, he found it strange she was there by herself. The Club, the other female thief was no where to be seen that night.

"What did she say? I know I asked." George thought out loud to himself as he ejected the tape. He walked back over to his desk, opened the drawer the book was in and placed the tape inside as well. Something about Club needing a break. The two thieves seemed rather close, there had to be something to that.

He was broken from thought again when Raymond entered the room.

"Sir, I think you should report the break in last night."

"It's not needed. Nothing was stolen. The police are too busy with the big cases. They have yet to bring the museum robbery to a close." George sat down in his chair, closing the opened drawer.

Raymond frowned slightly. "But it was The Cat, Sir. Not only that, but one of those thieves from the museum. It may give the police some leads. I think..."

George cut him off. "It's fine. Nothing is missing. There is no reason for me to make a report. If the security guards want to place something, let them. However, I want nothing to do with it."

"You are acting strangely, Sir. Please don't take it the wrong way."

"No, it's fine. I have work to do so..."

Raymond raised a brow. "So, I should leave so you can continue to scoot papers around. I'm sorry, Sir, but I think this break in is getting to you."

"I'm fine. The break in doesn't bother me." George gave the man an irritated glare and turned to face the window.

"Fine, I'll leave. However, if you ask me... I think there was some help in this break in. An inside job. Doors were found unlocked. You need keys to do that."

"They could have popped the locks." George continued to look out the window.

"There would have been signs of a force entry, Sir. The doors had been unlocked normally." Raymond turned and left the office.

Once he heard the door close, George turned back to his desk. He suddenly felt the need to get away from the office. He glanced out the window again. It was a nice day, maybe taking a walk would get his head straight. He stood up and made his way to the door. Pausing to look back at the desk once more, he sighed and exited the room.

"Oh of COURSE."

George said with a tone of annoyance. Of all the places he had to walk to, it had to be the park, the very same park his troubles began. And there was the bench he saw her, waiting for her little friend.

"My luck is just going well for me lately."

He frown as he walked past the bench, not even taking a moment longer to look at it.

'Why do I let myself be bothered by her?' A memory of Rachel's eyes looking at him flashed before him for a second. It caused him to stop and unbutton his collar. He had never been bothered by women before. They never caused him to feel so distracted before. But Rachel was so different from any women he had ever met. She wasn't after him like most of the women he knew. She didn't want to be with him.

'Yes she did you idiot.' George thought as he let his figure tips touch his lips.

Slowly he turned back to the bench and gazed at it. His stare was somewhat glazed over in thought. To anyone passing, he must of looked crazy. As if something in his mind had just snapped and he lost contact with reality.

Moving back to the bench George sighed and sat down. He watched as a few birds landed on the path in front of him. How care free they looked, and it made him feel slightly trapped. As they took flight and vanished from his sight another sigh escaped his lips.

'Why? Why does it bother me? I should be happy. In the long run I haven't lost anything. I never really had her to start with. Did I?' He shook his head. 'Look for the positives. Right, I didn't lose my address book. That's good, but, then why do I feel like this?'

He looked up and glanced around the park. He turned slightly, looking over the back of the bench toward the street. All the people just walking up and down the sidewalks seemed happy. He couldn't make out any of their faces, but compared to how he felt, anyone looked happy.

It was then, from the corner of his eye, something caught his attention. Down the street some sort of commotion was taking place. Curious about it, George got up from the bench and made his way back to the street. 'What, what is going on over there?'

"Oh stop! Help!"

"Shut up lady!"

The young but rough looking youth pulled on a older woman's purse. She tried hitting him but he just pushed her away. Ripping her purse from her shoulder, the lad began to run down the sidewalk. He ran into George, who merely looked bored, and then took off and soon out of sight. 'He's rather bold, right in the middle of the...'

"What's WRONG with you!"

George turn to see the woman yelling at him.

"You just stood there, letting him do that?"

"And what would I have done?" He asked with a raised brow. The thought never even entered his mind before.

"You heartless bastard... just let acts like that happened?"

The woman began to fix her dress, which had become tangled a bit.

George raised a brow. Why should he care what happened... the woman was bleeding. There was a small scratch on her face from the small fight. She was fixing her short brown hair when she looked back at him.

"You're gonna end up all alone if you keep acting so cold like that."

Without thinking, George placed a hand on her cheek, letting his thumb run down her cut. 'I'll never let anyone do that do you again Rachel. I'll find out who did it."

The woman was blushing by the time George turned quickly and took off down the side walk. Running between people and gaps in the crowd he soon found the rough lad running with the woman's purse.

The lad slowed some and turn to hide down an alley. "This old bat got nothing..."

"Then you won't mind returning her purse..."

The lad jumped to see George standing there, glaring at him.

"Who the hell are you to tell me..."

He never finished. The image of Rachel battered and bruised filled him with such a odd rage that one right fist to the lad's jaw, dropped him like a rock in water. George was breathing heavy as he stared down at the lad who was now out. He picked the purse up and turned.

"Oh thank you, I'm sorry for yelling at you like that."

George only gave a faint smile. "Your yelling cleared my head. Thank you."

The woman blushed.

---

The night had finally set in and once again The Cat was on the prowl. He had decided to take a job that wouldn't be much of challenge. Not jewelry store, bank or art dealer. No, this time he was hitting a private home. It seemed a bit out of character, but his home held some rather nice things.

Looking up at the mansion he scoffed. "So, this is the home of the famous boxer? Hmm, I expected more. Like a picture of himself somewhere out front."

Musing to himself, The Cat made his stealthy entry. It was a typical brake in, through a window after the security had been disabled. Once inside, he could only shake his head. 'So, this is where all the pictures are.' He shook his head again as he looked around for his target.

A few years back, Chibodee Crocket had won a rather nice trophy and with it received a pair of gold boxing gloves. They had to weigh quite a bit, they appeared to be solid.

'How careless, giving a man like him something like that.' The Cat swiftly made his way through the rooms off the home, trying to locate the resting place of the golden gloves. He found many pictures and posters of the man, but not what he was after.

After making his rounds of the lower level, he decided to head up the stairs. Locating the gloves was becoming a bit troublesome, but The Cat did enjoy working for his prize. As silly as a pair of gold boxing gloves sounded to the thief, they were very valuable.

The Cat eyed the hallway as he poked his head from the stairway corner. There were a few doors, but which one was his prize behind? Slowly making his way towards the first door. He paused when he heard a odd sound. Looking around quickly he saw nothing, but kept his guard up. Slowly opening the first down, he froze. Three, very large, dogs were sleeping. I didn't know Chibodee was a dog kind of man. One of the dogs opened it's mouth to yawn and opened it's eyes. However it only saw the door closed. Stretching and yawning once more it curled back up and went to sleep.

The Cat lend against the door on the other side. 'That was a close one.' Taking a breath he made his way towards the other door. Slowly opening it, he peaked in and almost fell down at the sight.

'Well I found Chibodee's room.' He thought as he eyed the scene before him. It was a very large room with all the wealth and luxury that money one could buy. However that was not what had shocked him. It was what The Cat saw in Chibodee's bed. There was a sleeping Chibodee, with a pretty blond curled into his right, a red head to his left, a brunette sleeping on his stomach and a black haired woman sleeping near one of his legs. If the Cat's face could be seen, George would have clearly had a fallen face.

He watched the sleeping group with both amusement and disgust. It was so easy for him to find women and yet he had the charm of a dog. 'Which is insulting to a dog.' The Cat thought as he looked away from the group. Chibodee didn't deserve such treatment and love.

Quietly he closed the door and made his the last door he hadn't checked. He passed a poster of the man hanging on the wall, and still irritated by what he had seen, reached up grabbing a corner and ripping it down. The Cat smirked at his action and moved to open the last door.

'Finally,' he thought as he stood in the trophy room. There were various statues here and there, but it was the case in the middle of the room that held what he wanted. The gold gloves sat on a pedestal under a glass box.

'Too easy.' Moving quietly to the box, he checked for any extra security in the room. For someone as wealthy as Chibodee, he sure didn't seem to invest in protection. 'He probably figures he can fight of any robbers. How sad.'

The Cat mused to himself and carefully lifted the glass cover and placed it on the ground. Then, just as careful, he picked up his prize. He only had a moment to admire the gloves before his attention was drawn to something else. A sound, like someone moving. The Cat spun around, but saw nothing.

'Better be on my guard.' He slowly exited the room, looking around the halls over any sign of movement. 'Maybe I'm going crazy. But, I swear... I heard something.' His mind wondered as he cautiously made his way down the hall toward the stairs. His thoughts wandered to Heart and suddenly found himself stopped and looking around the hall.

'Could it be her? No, what would she want from here, or what would Wong want from here?' The thought made him slightly ill. 'All that time, she, no those girls where working with him. Disgusting.' He snapped from his thought, thinking he had seen a shadow move down by the stairs.

Moving quickly, he made his way towards the stairs but did not see anyone. He frowned.

'I do not like this... not at all.' He made his way quickly towards his exit. His thoughts once more began to think of Heart.

How could she work for Wong? He's the lowest criminal and cruelest man he had ever met. Heart and her partner seemed like the types who were, well, more like him. Steal just for the love of it, and avoid hurting people. He remembered the museum. Though they claimed to have a bomb, it was nothing though. Just a trick. Were they just simply trying to not hurt themselves? Something just didn't seem to add up here.

As the Cat hurried away from the building, he thought, he saw figure of a woman hurrying away from the building as well.

He stopped and turned. Was that Heart? Is she following him? He frowned but didn't follow. 'What is that girl after now?' He hurried off into the shadows leaving no trace that he was ever there.

---

"Yes sir. I followed him to the building. No he didn't see me. He only uses tools when needed. Yes sir, I will continue to follow him."

A woman surrounded by the darkness of night spoke into a cel phone. A man's voice responded.

"Good.. All is going to plans. Make sure you give me details or my trap will never work."

"Yes sir I understand. I'll make sure that the Cat will fall for your trap."

"Good Girl..."

Wong smiled as he hung up the phone.

"Life is good."