A/N: Chapter Three, up already? Yes! And now we come to the turning point, yay! Once again, special thanks go out to all of the beautiful people who review, I will love you all forever. AG 5-1-0, thanks so much for the suggestions, I've tried to incorporate them at least a little throughout. (And thanks for the car recommendation.)

Disclaimer; Everything Sly Cooper belongs to Sucker Punch Pro., I own the Atlantis hotel and casino, the Great Llazarrad, and his assistants.

(Quick note on pronunciation: Llazarrad is LAH-zah-rahd. All of the 'a's are like in 'father', and double consonants are there just to look fancy. ;-) )

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Thief for a Day

Raven Ehtar

Chapter Three, 'At a Show'

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Sly didn't freeze, but whipped around to find his favorite Interpol policewoman staring him down through a shock pistol's sights. Carmelita Montoya Fox. Desert winds ruffled her fur and made her tail sway gently behind her, but her eyes betrayed no softness. They were hard and sharp, almost glowing in the lights of the city. She had followed him from England to Las Vegas in record time. Straight off the plane, too, from the looks of it. As Sly continued to watch her, he noticed she still had a slightly hazy, stressed-out look. Relaxing his posture, Sly grinned, both ears facing full front, "Just when Vegas seems to be losing its luster, Detective, you arrive and outshine every light."

Carmelita smirked, her pistol never wavering, "And you're still playing the charming jewel thief, I see," she replied. "Return what you've stolen, and maybe the courts will go a little easier on you."

"Charming?" Sly feigned surprise, "Why, Inspector, I never knew you noticed." Very slowly, Sly began sliding his foot behind him and slightly to the side. When the time came to end this conversation, it would happen very quickly.

"I happen to have your personal file memorized, Cooper," Carmelita was saying, "all the way down to your hat size."

"Impressive," Sly said, readjusting the grip on his cane.

"Standard," Carmelita corrected. Her already rigid stance seemed to tighten even further, and the pistol shifted just slightly, getting a better bearing on Sly, "And once those goods are back where they belong, we're going to have a little chat about a certain Mr. Bull and his now empty vault."

Typical, Sly thought. As much as Carmelita liked to think her world was in the absolutes of black and white, whenever she came after him she was placing herself on the fence of the law. How could she be completely on the law's side, when she was protecting criminals Sly stole from? It was something of a paradox for the straight lace policewoman. Sly's legs tensed underneath him, and his toes dug into the roof for extra traction, ready to spring away. "Sorry, Carmelita, but I'll have to take a rain check on that date. The night life of Vegas calls." With that, Sly leapt backwards and twisted in midair, landing in a sprint. He had barely taken two steps before he heard the unmistakable ZZZZAP! of the shock pistol. He sprang to the side, barely avoiding getting hit full-on with the paralyzing blast. She was getting faster with that thing, and her aim was improving.

It was then that Sly realized an interesting problem: As beautiful as the eclectic mix of architecture was in Sin City, it made quick getaways tricky. Going from a building that was 15+ stories to one that was only three wasn't too much of a problem with a paraglider, but going back again was neigh impossible to do quickly. After two more close calls from the pistol and nearly plummeting off of one of the buildings, Sly decided to take the chase down to the streets. Carmelita was less likely to shoot at him if there were pedestrians added to the mix. He landed on the well-lit sidewalks and kept running, his newly acquired loot jangling merrily the whole way. Even so late at night, there were still plenty of people enjoying all that Las Vegas had to offer, which gave Sly ample cover. Despite the people, though, Carmelita still managed to get off a few shots, occasionally yelling 'Freeze!' at Sly or 'Get down!' to the crowds. Neither paid her any attention.

When one of her shots singed his tail he decided that it was time to switch tactics again. At the nearest casino/hotel he could find, Sly ducked inside. He went by the sign quickly, but he thought it said Atlantis. The inside corroborated the fleeting name, the décor including huge façades of ruined palaces and a large shark tank wrapped around the perimeter of the casino. Thankfully, this building also had an abundance of patrons.

As Sly wove around the crowded building, he noticed that Carmelita had opted not to shoot inside – at least until she had a sure shot. She was also, however, keeping good track of him. "Give it up, Cooper!" she shouted over the noise of the casino, "You can't run forever!"

Sly shot a quick grin over his shoulder, "Maybe not, but I can sure try!" He bent over further into his sprint, pouring on the speed. Behind him, he thought he could hear Carmelita cursing faintly.

Even with Sly's increased pace, the Inspector managed to keep up. He was impressed with her determination, and at the same time cursed the extra weight he had to carry. Without it, and the extra bulk it added to his frame, he could have probably been able slip out from under her radar by now. On the second time circling the huge room, Sly noticed a set of doors leading to the casino's theater. From the looks of it, the show was on and the doors miraculously unguarded. Sly took the opportunity presented and slipped inside.

Behind the doors the noise abruptly died away, leaving a slight ringing in Sly's ears. The only source of light came from the stage, casting the entire audience in darkness. That suited him just fine. Vegas was an unusually bright city, day or night, and it was comforting to have the concealing shadows back. No one had noticed his hurried entrance, so he grabbed onto a pipe right by the door with his cane and began climbing upward into the lights.

Balancing himself in the cross bars, he watched as Carmelita came in, only a few seconds behind him. She paused, letting her eyes adjust to the dramatic change in light, and quickly looked from side to side for her quarry. Sly noted with amusement that she neglected to look up. Some things never changed. Not finding the raccoon in plain sight, she began searching the rows for him, pistol at the ready. The audience was so enthralled by the show, they hardly noticed.

Seeing that Carmelita wasn't going to look where he was anytime soon, Sly looked toward the stage. Scattered around the floor were what looked to him like a magician's props: A large, upright box, a small table scattered with cards, three large hanging hoops, and more. There were only three people on stage: two were feline women in colorful, scanty – and eye catching – attire, and the third Sly assumed was the magician. It was a fairly young male frilled lizard, dressed in a very overdone outfit made up of a yellow silk shirt, blue velvet vest, large, baggy red pants made of satin, and blue, curly toed shoes. His frill, which was lowered around his shoulders, had many golden bangles and hoops hanging from the fleshy edge like ear rings. At the moment, he was finishing up a trick that made it look like a knife was passing harmlessly through his arm. The audience was impressed, but from Sly's vantage point, he could see the mirrors.

"Thank you, thank you," the magician said was a flourishing bow to the applause. Rings on every finger glinted in the stage lights. "And for my final performance, I, the Great Llazarrad, shall need a volunteer."

Immediately, nearly every hand in the house was in the air, fingers wriggling to get more attention. "The Great Llazarrad" held his chin in mock contemplation, scanning the audience for a suitable volunteer. After a moment, he pointed into the audience dramatically, "That young lady, there!"

Several spotlights swam around the room and converged on Carmelita, who was still searching the seats for Sly. When the lights came on her, she straightened and swung her pistol around in surprise, searching for the light bearing assailant, but it was obvious that the sudden brightness had dazed her. Almost instantly, the two assistants were on Carmelita, one deftly taking her shock pistol and the other steering her towards the stage. Sly was impressed, he had never seen anyone actually get the pistol out of her hands before.

"Look at that, ladies and gentlemen," Llazarrad was saying as his assistants led the stunned Detective up the stairs, "this young lady was so eager, she started coming up on stage by herself!"

There was a smattering of chuckles from the audience as Carmelita was towed into the center of the stage. In the center, the assistants supported her by both elbows, but Carmelita was finally starting to become aware of where she was, and struggled slightly.

Llazarrad saw her resistance and misinterpreted it, "Now, now, my dear, no reason to feel nervous. I am a professional."

On the word 'professional', obviously a cue word, the lights dimmed and were replaced by red lighting that wobbled slightly. Sly, being at the same level as the lights, saw that the lights had panes of warped plastic rotating in front of them, which distorted the light and made it swim. Back on stage, Carmelita was just getting ready to stop the show when the magician spread his frill.

Carmelita stopped. She stared.

Sly could hardly blame her, the entire audience had gone quiet. The magician's frill spread above and below his face, the bangles and rings swaying and glinting strangely in the red, warbling light. But that wasn't what made everyone stare. More interesting than the bangles was the pattern Llazarrad had painted on his frill. In white paint, which showed up starkly on his green scales, were swirling patterns and flowing letters in several languages. One, Sly was fairly certain, was Sanskrit, and another looked like it might be a form of Korean, but he couldn't read any of it. Carefully avoiding the frill, Llazarrad firmly placed a tiny red jewel between his eyes. The entire effect was somewhere between creepy and comical.

"Now," the magician said, "just relax, my dear, this won't take a moment."

Carmelita in haled mightily, raising her hand. In a voice that carried to the farthest corners of the house, she started, "I'm going to have to--" and then froze, leaving her hand in the air.

The Great Llazarrad, ignoring her loud protests, had simultaneously begun weaving his head in circles, waving his frill in a tiny, flowing wave, and humming a sonorous tune. The frill pattern, with the combination of light and movements, seemed to wriggle and dance on its own, and hardly seemed to even be a part of the magician anymore. It was almost difficult to watch, it had a dizzying effect. He could only imagine what Carmelita was seeing, standing right in front of him. The tune he was humming was also strange. It made Sly sleepy, making it hard to keep his balance in the lights, much less concentrate on Llazarrad and Carmelita. Whatever the magician was humming, the gizmos Bentley had given him were no match for it. Pinching himself in the arm with a vicious twist, he forced himself to ignore the sound and watch.

Carmelita was so entranced by Llazarrad that the assistants were nearly supporting her full weight. She slumped into them, her entire face slack and eyes unfocused, but still watching the magician's display. The hand she had raised dropped heavily back to her side. With a final, sharp click of the magician's tongue, the Inspector straightened, and the assistants released their grips. Llazarrad approached her and waved a hand in front of her face; there was no reaction, her eyes didn't even flicker.

Llazarrad turned back to the audience, "And now, ladies and gentlemen," he said in a hushed voice, "I will attempt to transform this young lady into a variety of strange beings. I ask that no one be shocked at her appearance, should I be successful." He turned to the entranced Inspector, and the audience became quiet as the Great Llazarrad began his work.

Not two minutes later, Sly and the rest of the audience were roaring with laughter. Up on the stage, Carmelita was now hopping up and down the stage with great bounding leaps, every now and again releasing a croaky 'RIBBET' and snapping at imaginary flies. The 'transformation' Llazarrad had meant, was hypnotizing her into thinking she was a variety of strange beings. The first being a frog. Sly wiped away a tear and wished he had his camera with him. The resemblance to Raleigh was disturbing.

Sly suddenly froze in his hiding place, struck by a wonderful thought. An evil grin made its way through his whiskers. Still chuckling, he quickly began to make his way to the stage through the hanging spotlights. By the time he got there, Carmelita had been changed into a rhino with a caramel stuck on her horn, (a suggestion from the audience). While the Inspector ran around the stage with crossed eyes, desperately trying to remove the imaginary candy, Sly lowered himself behind the wings, out of view of the audience. Thankfully, Llazarrad was near enough for him to tug on the back of his velvet vest.

Thinking it was a stage hand, Llazarrad was surprised to turn and see such a sneaky looking raccoon on his stage. He was even more surprised when the unexpected individual shoved a bag full of coins into his hands and made a strange request, involving his vixen volunteer. He considered the shady character and his petition quickly. It would probably be unethical to go along with the raccoon's suggestion, especially since it appeared he was being bribed for it… but the weight of the bag was very compelling. Magicians and hypnotists, even in Vegas, didn't get paid really well unless they had some kind of gimmick, and Llazarrad was a magic purist.

Deciding to go along with it for the time being, he tucked the coin bag into his belt and returned to his show. "And now, ladies and gentlemen," he said in his best performance closer voice, "I shall make this young woman vanish before your very eyes!"

The assistants paused for only a second, exchanging a brief glance. This wasn't part of today's script, and it was odd for Llazarrad to ad lib, but they were experienced enough to slip into the new routine without tripping. The light crew were also confused for a moment, but recovered quickly. They had done shows with disappearances before, and knew what to do.

As the large box was brought out, Llazarrad made sure Carmelita was still in a deep trance. Without any guidance as to what she was, she was a total blank, staring into space like a mannequin. When the prop was set firmly in place near center stage, she was led into it by the assistants and turned around to face the audience.

Hoping nothing dangerous would come from bringing on this trick unexpectedly, Llazarrad began his performance as dramatic music swelled. He shut the three separate doors over Carmelita, first over the legs and feet, then the face, then the torso. Building his complex chant up to a crescendo, lights flashing until they were an incredibly fast strobe, he turned the box around on its wheels three times and threw open the doors with a shout.

Inside there was no Carmelita, and the audience burst into applause.