There within her head collected a list of all the heists, schemes, scams, and thieveries Clara and Francis had ever done. To write it down would be the same as putting herself in jail, so it was in her head that she kept general dates, names, places, and activities. It was more for the sake of keeping them safe from accidentally repeating a place or person, but Clara would be a liar if she said she didn't enjoy the nostalgia of it all.

There was the human city, three of them actually, of one in which they both grew up in. Several jewelry stores, clubs, casinos, and many, many wealthy individuals, and some middle class folk, had been taken advantage of. Of note there was a politician who was no longer a politician in the second human city, mostly because he failed to make the full blackmail ransom of some photos involving him and an individual who was not his partner, that likely held a lifelong grudge against the pair.

Then there were the few animal cities. Very few knew Francis or Clara or even recalled them, so disguised they were at the times. But if Clara were to reflect, she would reflect upon the fox from Louisiana who they had bamboozed out of one of his supposed-famous secret recipes and sold it for thousands. She would reflect upon the duck, who oddly enough did not have a bill as one would expect a human-duck to have, who had attempted to scam them, but was instead framed for their thievery of a jewelry shop and locked up for it. She would even reflect upon red haired cat who had had these horrifyingly large spiders, of which Francis, on his idea, stole one away and sold it to the highest bidder.

There were a few big heists like that that made Clara hum with self-satisfaction. It kept her warm on a cold night because they paid off and it was the firewood they bought with that money, or the heating bill for propane that they paid for, that kept her warm. It was the tea, the hot water, the hot bath that they used the money on that kept her warm at night.

And there was the age-old mentality that she had been introduced to at the age of seven: take advantage before you're taken advantage of. It had been a harsh lesson to learn, a rougher one then to implement at first, as she had been young and alone. But once she had found Francis and the two had grown, this became second nature to breathing. There were no hard feelings to the men and women they had taken advantage of and come out the better for it. It was, after all, just business...the way of life.

The pair never took advantage of those less fortunate or those who could not afford to lose a bit though. Why would they? They had been there, and worse, before. When they were able to, Francis and Clara often donated some money, food, and clothes to any of the poor they might encounter in any of the cities they were scamming. It was more than what was done for them as children. Did it keep their guilt at bay by doing it? No, because they felt little to no guilt. Why feel guilty about something when it harmed only those who held excess?

It was about six months later when Clara decided they needed a replenishment to their funds. To her recollection, it had been plenty of time between her last hit at Mad Dog's casino as a cat. She would walk in as a dog, not with her natural blond hair, but a wig of black with black ears, a short tail, make up to make her look five years younger, and an outfit of conservative values. She wanted to be admired, but not gaped at or hit on, for that would be too much attention.

Francis was going to hit up another place in town, for the sake of safety. So when Clara entered Mad Dog's casino under the name of Matilda, she felt nothing amiss. It was like it always was. It was nothing new. There were no red flags, alarms, or sirens going off to signal her to leave. It all looked normal - including the damn cigarette smoke. Perhaps it was a mistake to wear purple contacts.

No matter. 'Matilda' went about going to the black jack table to start with. She ordered a Tom Collins although what she really wanted was an extra dirty martini, which she avoided due to the concern of being too familiar with her previous time here. And so the game went, one round, then three, then five. She broke even there. She moved onto the next table. One more drink. Three rounds. She was up. Another table, another drink, four more rounds, and up again. And so on, so forth.

It was midnight by the time she wanted to call it quits. She was up about a thousand, and had sneaked about three hundred in chips from others' tables, and her eyes were hurting bad. The contacts were definitely not smoke-proof. It was time to cash in and head home. So she got up, her legs shaky, her short tail twitching, as if she had had too much to drink. She exchanged the chips with cash and slipped away, down the elevator. No Bunny this time - which was something she found to be a bit disappointing. If she could have another crack at those diamond rings…

Ding.

Clara stepped out of the elevator, her purse a bit heavier with all the money in it. She kept it close. She had a large chunk of the rolls in her bra since one could never be too careful. She made sure to look at the very least relaxed as she walked out of the building. Another successful adventure at Mad Dog's casino!

Or perhaps she had jinxed herself, declaring this inwardly so early. As she made her way around the building down the block, three built, beefy bodies stepped out from the way and blocked her path. She stopped cold and felt her throat close. They were dogs. They were Mad Dog's dogs. Clara turned on her heels, intending to run the other way - but there were two of his dog guards there too. She took a step back on impulse but no more.

"What do you want?" She demanded, her voice cold and harsh. Had she been outed? Had she been too greedy in taking so much money? Had they recognized her?

It turned out that all three questions were simple enough to answer: yes.

"Mad Dog told us 'bout you." One of the guards said behind her. She didn't look. "Said that a cat came in a while back and cheated the place out of a few grand. 'Course now you've turned into a dog...but it was you, he said, because Bunny recognized ya."

Cold dread gripped her heart then. Shit. Bunny? That little elevator visit had meant so much to her, did it, that she had seen past Clara's disguise? There was so much to unpack in that, but now wasn't the time. Clara held her purse tighter to her chest then. "I'll scream if you touch me." She refused to give in easily. "I don't know who you think I am," better to down through it all, "but I haven't done anything! I won my money tonight fair and square! I lost money too! You can't rob me just because...because some broad mistook me for someone else!"

She had never been in this situation before, not alone. At least with Francis, she would have had a chance to fight and do some damage, of escape. This though? Five against her? She blinked hard a few times - the damn smoke had really fucked with her contacts and her eyes. "Get away!" She shouted, feeling panic start to rise. She tried to fight it down, but her vision was blurry and she was at a distinct disadvantage. When the guards around her chuckled, no doubt amused at the idea of anyone on this street that Mad Dog owned giving a damn about her, she felt true fear take root in her gut.

She started to shout something else when a new sound broke the silence of the street. It was tires on the road. She looked over to her side just as a car stopped. The driver shouted across to the passenger side, "Get in!"

As if a puppet, she followed his command. Clara threw her energy into running the yard, dodging a few hands that attempted to grab at her, and got into the car. Hardly a moment after she shut the door, they sped off! Panting more from the rush of it all than the short sprint, Clara looked at the rear view mirror, then over her shoulder behind her at the shrinking sight of the guards.

So much for ever going back to Mad Dog's.

"Thank you," she managed to gasp out, remembering her manners, "thank you so much. Those men, they were going to rob me." Even in her panic and haze, on some level, she knew to play the part. "I can't thank you enough, who knows what else they may have done."

It was dark in the car, the interior lit up only by the passing streetlights for moments. Even then, her eyesight was still blurred from the smoke and the irritated contacts. She couldn't really make out her savior, not clearly. "Please, let me repay you...I have some cash, it's the least I can do."

Her heart rate started to calm as the man spoke. "It was my pleasure, Miss…?"

"Matilda." The actress in her kept on. "And who do I have to thank as my rescuer?" From what little bit she could tell, more focused on him than the drive that they were still taking to somewhere, he wore a dark red sweater and purple pants. If she squinted, she believed he had dark red hair and cat ears.

"Katz." It didn't mean anything to her, the name, until he gave her a sidelong look and their eyes, however irritated hers were at that moment, and then she realized who he was. She knew those eyes. She had been haunted by a very, very similar pair not six months ago. "Of Katz Motel." The way he emphasized the last two words, the place of his business, Clara felt that pit of fear return sharply and coldly. "And I don't think what money you currently hold would begin to pay for the act you did all those years ago." There was a sneer in the man's words. The spider they stole…!

Clara felt breathless and frozen. Nearly five years ago, in fact. Even with the wig and the fake ears, surely it wasn't hard for him to recognize her with his clear, sharp eyes and the makeup she had worn to look that much younger. "Fuck." Her heart began to race again. She pushed herself up against the passenger door as much as she could, as if to shrink away from him. "Let me out! Stop the car right now, let me out!" Much like a trapped animal, she thought.

"Be quiet!" He raised his voice just a sliver, but it thundered in that car, competing with the blood rushing in her ears.

"Where are you taking me?" Clara tried the door handle but it was locked! There was no way to unlock it on her side. "Let me out, damn it! Let me out, you fucking animal!"

"I said be quiet!" His voice was sharper, louder than before. She started to beat on the glass. How the hell did this come back to bite her in the ass? How had he known to save her from Mad Dog? Did they work together? "Stop that at once!" She kept pulling at the door handle and hitting the glass.

The car stopped abruptly at a stop light. Not having put her seatbelt on, Clara hit the dashboard with a groan. Before she could do much more, she felt a hand grab her upper arm. She gasped softly, feeling nails dig into the exposed flesh. "Cease this at once, you infernal little…" Before Katz could finish the name, Clara turned and punched him in the face. His hands went to his nose as a shout left him. Quickly, she reached across him, brushing against his chest, and hit the unlock button. With a click, she knew her exit was there. Clara turned and tried the door handle again - success! It opened and she flung the door open. She ran out and kept running through alleys, streets, between buildings. She ran until her lungs burned and her legs felt as weak as straws.

It was only when she felt safe did she stop running. It was only when she began to wonder where she was did she realize something. It was when she wanted to call Francis that she realized her purse, her phone included, had been left in Katz' car.

"Fucking hell."