Glad you guys are enjoying my fic! Thanks to all my reviewers, including the ones for this story and my other Sly fics! So, this chapter features some background on our two villains! Also, I apologize if this chapter seems a little shorter than the others.

Thanks again to Dragon and Sword Master for his betaing prowess!

Your hints for this chapter: There are 2 Easter Eggs in this chapter. One is a Sly Cooper game reference, and the other is a play reference.

Disclaimer: Sly Cooper and other related characters are formerly the property of Sucker Punch, inc. and currently the property of Sanzaru, Inc. except for Beatrice Montreal, Bryan Moliere, Desiree Mallery, Desiree Monroe, Nautica Macavity, Aubrey Lancaster, Ann Monret, Armand Jaeger, Phillip Dumont, and Claire Bennet which all belong to me. Carmen Fox, Carlos Diego Fox, Kitty Petro, and Ling Chu belong to Kitty Petro.

Season 1: "When Strangers Meet"

Arc 2: "Cast Adrift"

Episode 5:

Something Wicked...

The vulpine hybrid heard the door click shut behind her. Blinking a few times as her eyes adjusted to the dim lighting in the storage area, Nautica saw several boxes consisting of different clothes, shoes, hair styling solutions, and accessories lining the walls. This boutique was one of the many front businesses Nautica ran to conceal several…less than scrupulous dealings. This particular one was a boutique and salon. Customers could shop for clothes, get a new hairstyle or make-up, or all three at once. Nautica Ivana Macavity was drawn out of her musings by the sounds of someone walking towards her. She grinned indulgently as Desiree Mallery made her way towards Nautica. Desiree was, well used to be, a rather thin, but nice-looking, Dalmatian. Her hair matched her fur pattern. She was moderately intelligent and still was, for the most part. They had met as young teenagers in the slums of Paris and had helped the part vixen with her schemes, desperate for money to help her overworked mother. However, as Nautica schemes became more dangerous, the dog started to shy away from the work, though she did try remaining friends with her. Of course, Nautica had no qualms about milking the girl for all she was worth. After all, they were supposed to be friends, and friends were supposed to do things for each other, right? It had been little things at first... but once she reconnected with her "father", Nautica had quickly discovered a new method of manipulation: intimidation. Eventually, all of Nautica's threats and manipulations wore down the other girl's resolve, which often made Desiree become an unwilling accomplice. Because of this, the last four years had been rough on the female dalmatian. Her once glorious hair had turned stringy and limp, and she had lost an unhealthy amount of weight, looking sick instead of slender now. Even her eyes were dulled with defeat. She worked as a towel girl and janitor for the boutique, and was hardly seen by the clientele.

"There you are!" Nautica said with practiced enthusiasm. The dog only narrowed her eyes at the hybrid; Nautica assumed that it was meant to be a glare. Nautica just grinned in amusement. Their staring contest was broken by the sound of boxes being moved by Ciel, the black panther that had let the hybrid in the first place.

"Well, let's get this over with," grumbled the dalmatian. Now, Nautica just laughed as they both headed for a door in the back of the storage area that led to a private en suite. There was a shower, a privacy screen, and a sink with a styling chair. Nautica sauntered over to it and sat down. This suite was one of two private suites that were usually used for private sessions, as well as illegal Botox injections and body alternations. Nautica sighed as Desiree continued to open and slam the cabinets behind the sink. The redhead turned sideways in her chair, looking over her shoulder.

"What is your problem?" she finally asked. The young canine whirled around and scoffed at Nautica's question before continuing to pull supplies out of the cabinets. Nautica frowned while thinking, "I leave for a few weeks, and now she is angry with me."

"Honestly, why do you ask questions you already know the answers to?" growled Desiree.

"I take it you are not happy to see me?" asked Nautica sarcastically.

"Oh, don't give me that!" hissed the reluctant criminal. Nautica secretly loved seeing Desiree get all riled up, just so she could pour the proverbial 'cold water' on the girl and watch her deflate. "Not happy to see you? That's an understatement! You have ruined my life!"

"Oh Desiree, you always become so testy when I leave you alone for too long..." Nautica teased. She turned back around in the chair and leaned back. "This chair feels amazing though…I must have been away from civilization far too long..." she thought out loud as Desiree snorted in derision. After a while, Nautica sighed as Desiree started washing her hair. The hybrid had been deemed a flight risk by the courts, so she spent the last month in Deathrow Penitentiary awaiting her trial. Thus, her poor hair had not seen shampoo in quite a few weeks. The fugitive started to relax and purr in delight as Desiree's fingers massaged her scalp.

"Nautica, I am going to help you change your appearance, and then I am leaving. No more favors. No more dirty deals..." stated Desiree as Nautica just rolled her eyes and laughed. Desiree constantly threatened to leave, but she never did. A threat or two, and the dog would relent, she always did. As Desiree finished rinsing Nautica's hair in preparation for washing it again, Nautica thought out loud, "It's so hard to have friends these days... The constant work I have to put in to keep them. It's such a bother, but they are too useful not to have," Nautica had put in a lot of work to obtain her list of "friends". Sometimes, she just made it into a huge game, just to entertain herself. However, like with all games, if you play one long enough, then the game gets old and becomes boring. Was there anyone out there who cared about her and her needs? Wait, there was... Nautica's eyes drifted close as a memory began to play inside her mind.

Flashback

Trigger alert!

About three years ago, she had started a fling with a local drug operator. He was a violent fox who was used to getting his way. Of course, Nautica was used to getting her way as well, so naturally they bumped heads quite often. One particular night, he had been incensed because she took one of his street girls in order to help sell a deal to another one of her father's business partners. He was insistent that she pay him back and while she promised him that he would receive some money once the deal was finalized, he wanted his due right then and there. Therefore, when she informed him that she did not have any money yet, he decided he would take it out of her hide. However, luckily, she had been rescued.

They had been in an alley, and her "lover" threw her against one of the walls. He started trying to take her clothes off, while she was attempting to rip his face off. While she may have inherited some speed from her father's genes, the todd was a lot stronger than the vixen hybrid was. Just as she was close to giving up, a noise startled them both. The angry fox growled that whoever was there better leave, before he made them. There was not another sound. A moment later, the boorish man continued trying to force himself on Nautica. However, Nautica saw something bright flash by out of the corner of her eye, followed by a sharp cracking sound. She watched with wide eyes as the todd's eyes rolled back into his head, and he slumped to the ground. She slowly starts sliding down the wall, her legs numb with the ordeal and no longer willing to support her. As her mind worked furiously to cope with what happened to her, a blue gloved hand appeared before her face. Looking up, she stared into the face of the person who must have rescued her.

"Are you ok, Miss?" asked a gentle voice. She nodded slowly. There in front of her was a blue clad ghost and if it weren't for the blue clothing he was wearing, he would have been undetectable in the dark alley. As her adrenaline rush began to subside, she noticed several details about him. He was a raccoon; his striped-tailed waving lazily behind him. However, the details that froze the girl in place were his eyes, those beautiful light-brown eyes, almost as if they were glowing within the dark alleyway, looking as if they were peering right through her. After a moment, she shook her head and took his hand. She was surprised at his strength, when he gently pulled her to her feet. It was surprising because the raccoon was rather small in stature.

"Thank you," she said after a moment, "you saved me a lot of trouble a few seconds ago," she added as he smiled up at her, and the hybrid's usually stone heart melted into a puddle.

"Well, I am glad I was around to help," he answered affably as he bowed slightly to her. She giggled. Partly from the endorphin rush she was currently experiencing, and partly from the raccoon's behavior.

"So, may I have the pleasure of knowing my rescuer's name?" she asked curiously, keeping a close eye on her ex-acquaintance's unmoving body.

"Of course you may. I am simply Sly, Sly Cooper," he replied grandly. "and who might this vision of loveliness be?"

"I am Nautica Macavity," she replied, grinning shyly.

"Well, a Macavity... how fortunate," said the raccoon as he rested the end of a mysteriously shaped cane on the concrete, leaning on it.

"Fortunate?" she queried as he nodded urbanely.

"Yes, I was actually looking to do some business with Joseph Macavity for a heist I have planned," he answered.

"Oh really? What would a kid like you know about planning a heist?" asked Nautica skeptically as she started to regain her bearings. He just continued to grin at her.

"Just about as much as you do, dear... I just lack the equipment and the funds," was the quick reply.

"I will admit that you are tenacious... fine, I do owe you one. Meet me in this alley in three weeks... we shall talk more then," she offered. The would-be-thief nodded eagerly.

"That I can do..." he practically purred.

"Well, I really have over stayed my welcome, I believe. I must be going," she said before turning away, intent on walking out of the alley and back to her side of town. Once there, she would give herself a much needed shower.

"Wait! What about this guy? I don't want him to hurt you again," said Sly as he started following her out. She hated to admit it, but the genuine concern in his voice made her insides clench. Although, she was not sure why. No one had ever shown any real concern for her before.

"Oh him?" she questioned, jerking her thumb back behind her to point at the fox, "No worries, I will have him taken care of…personally," she grinned ferally at the thought of what she would do to the bastard.

"Well, if you are sure... I shall see you in three weeks, fair lady," said the thief before kissing her hand gallantly before taking off into the night. Nautica had smiled all the way home that night...

End Flashback

As Nautica slowly returned to the real world, she realized that Desiree had finished washing her hair and was now applying a new color to it. She yawned softly as her thoughts continued hovering around the thief known as Sly Cooper. They would meet again in three weeks as agreed, though she was a little surprised to find herself looking forward to seeing the thief again, acting almost like a teenager…even despite his rather young age. Over the next few weeks, Nautica began digging up as much as she could about Sly Cooper. From what she discovered, it seemed that this young thief had been born into a legacy of known criminal clan, like the late Conner Cooper. Furthermore, it seemed that while the boy was known for his skills in theft, he was also known for his acts of kindness in the mainstream and underground world. It seemed that even though he grew up on the streets and in some form of foster care like she had, he still managed to keep a decent heart. Yes, that was the kind of friend she needed. Someone who was able to hang around when times got tough, someone that was rough enough to roll with the punches, but still soft enough to hold her at night. She knew it wasn't proper given that the boy was about four years her junior, but she couldn't help it. He was nearly perfect, and with the right grooming, Sly would be perfect. He would be hers and hers alone; she would sell her soul to make it so.

Unfortunately, after concluding their business agreement, she saw very little of the thief. Rumor was that he had been doing a world tour and busting the Fiendish Five a few years back. Now, he had been spotted back on the world stage as he took down the Klaww Gang. Perhaps, when he reappeared, on the Parisian scene, she would make an attempt to see him. Given the vixen hybrid's current thoughts, she was not only going to see him, but she was going to make him hers. She wasn't sure how she was going to do it, but she was going to get it done, whatever the cost.

"Take this and use the shower, while I go find you some clothes," grumbled Desiree as she shoved a bottle of premixed fur dye into Nautica's face. The fox glared at the canine for interrupting her daydreaming, but took the bottle and marched to the shower. She distractedly stepped into the shower and shut the door. Placing the squeeze bottle with the guy in it on the support rail before leaning it against the wall, she then unbuttoned the brown prison jumpsuit and shimmied out of it, before tossing it over the door. One of her dirty blonde paws then turned on the tap, and the vixen groaned in delight as the warm water cascaded over her body. The clear water slowly turned a murky brown as the water rinsed the hair color from the fugitive's hair. After making sure all that hair dye was out of her hair, she quickly washed her body. As her fingers ghosted over her abdomen, they brushed against a scar. A very familiar scar; a small diagonal incision that was just above her right hip with an identical one just above her left hip as well, the only physical evidence of the researchers of her father's experiment.

While doing some digging a few years back, Nautica had discovered that she had been one of numerous incidents that had been bred for research purposes. Armand Jaeger had not wanted any of the experiments breeding outside of the facilities, because they all had these traceable genetic markers that he did not want any legal authorities to ever discover. Therefore, all of them were sterilized before being released into the governmental system. Her fallopian tubes and parts of her ovaries had been burned. Not only did this ensure that she could never reproduce, it also caused developmental problems. She never developed secondary sex characteristics like breasts and hips, but her voice had deepened a bit, so that she had a mellow, husky voice. Not to say that she was unattractive, because she had never had any trouble getting attention, but Nautica felt as if she were robbed of a part of herself. Nautica pushed the morose thoughts away as she reached up and turned off the water. She then turned to the fur dye and began applying it to her fur. The strawberry blonde fur she possessed was another "gift" from her sire. She continued applying the deep red concoction to her fur. After obtaining help from Desiree to coat the fur on her back and tail, Nautica rinsed off and headed out of the shower after waiting the required time for the color to set.

"Your father calls, he wants to see you in the next two hours, so we have to hurry up," said Desiree with a look of distaste set on her face.

In a house in Marseilles...

Armand Jaeger had not always been a man of excessive means. No, his father grew up in the 1960s back when most of Germany was still recovering from the repercussions of World War II. Armand would grow up with his basic needs met, but was always wanting. This wanting was not just for money or material possessions, no; any man with ambition or greed could obtain those things, and he already had plenty of both. The cheetah was currently lounging in a burgundy office chair in the middle of the stylishly decorated office on the third floor of a private mansion. As he surveyed his land with cold green eyes, his hand rested on a unique ship in a bottle. The ship was enormous and oddly shaped; it also boasted a lot of canons, but the most curious thing about it; however, was that it lacked a mast and sails. Instead, the deck of the ship was riddled with cabins, and the bow of the ship had two giant holes in the left side of the hull. The ship was a gift that the cheetah received from a secret admirer years ago. His sinuous tail serpentined along the floor as he continued to ruminate on his past and his ambition, especially since his want was so simple…so cliché. What he wanted was simple; he wanted power and the proper recognition he was due as a feline carnivore. The spotted feline had been taught that the world functioned via a simple hierarchy.

On the lowest level, there were the herbivores, because they were the ground feeders. Then the omnivores came next. They had the capabilities to be great hunters, but they chose to limit themselves by still relying on vegetative means if hunting got too hard. The next space was occupied by the lowest form of hunters: the carrion feeder. They were the opportunistic hunters that poached the kills off of the more skilled hunters. Then the line would continue on up to the top species, the wolves. This predator was believed to be the ultimate predator, and race, during the Third Reich, according to the great lupine leader, Adolf Hitler. Felines were the next in line with the mountain felines being the top felines, followed by the forest types and lastly the savannah types. As far as Armand was concerned, he was practically royalty and one day, the world would know it. Of course, some modifications would have to be made to the hierarchy first. A knock at the door signaled to the business man that it was time to stop thinking about his dreams and start making them into realities.

"Come in," he called apathetically. He turned his chair back around to face the door. Shantel, his puma assistant, led a chocolate-haired woman into the room. The vixen's fur was crimson and she wore a smart business suit, a navy blue affair with matching heels. He noticed that her eyes were brown, and that she reeked of chemicals. As he pulled his chair closer to the glass desk, he finally realized who was sitting across from him; the experiment who dared to call her Nautica Macavity! The supposed daughter of his alias, Joseph Macavity! She, in his eyes, was the lowest of the low. She was a mutt, a mongrel! And to make matters worse…she carried his family's honorable blood through her veins. It was a disgrace, but unfortunately, it was also necessary. Initially, the girl was part of his personal military research to create stable half breeds. He felt that it would be a waste to destroy a pure breed child, when half breeds were disposable in the long run. Besides what he was studying was not species specific, so whoever used it for whatever purpose did not matter. However, it had taken a lot of work on the behalf of his scientists and volunteers to produce a viable hybrid. Of course, that just further proved to the cheetah that half breeds were unnatural. Eventually, success would be the reward of their hard work after Nautica's "birth". After her birth, and the birth of a few other hybrid failures, they had finally gotten a handle on the process. They were now producing test subjects on a whim in vivo as well as in vitro. However, that did not mean Armand liked to be reminded of the fact. Nevertheless, the mutt was smart, loathe as he was to admit it, and he needed her to move to the next phase of his experimentation.

"You wanted to see me?" she said, her tone bored. The cheetah felt his hackles start to rise in annoyance, but he pressed on.

"I see that my meticulous planning was put to good use," he said as a way of opening the conversation. She scoffed.

"I just happened to be in the same area as your friend's cell block. You needed to get her out as per your agreement. I just happened to be a bonus," she grumbled. The cheetah sighed, deciding to just cut to the chase so that he could get rid of the abomination seated at his desk

"Ok. I need you to head up the magic containment project," he said. He watched as the woman briefly thought about it.

"What's in it for me?" she asked after a moment. The cheetah gritted his teeth in an attempt to control his temper.

"What exactly could you want? After all, you should be grateful that I have allowed you to live this long..." growled the business man.

"My own project without your spotted nose in it," she answered. Armand blinked in surprise. What could she possibly have planned? Then again, if she was too busy with her own project, she won't have much time to poke around in his other plans. This could be a win-win for the feline...if not, he could just get rid of her.

"Fine. But you must start work on the magic containment project immediately," ordered the cheetah. The vixen stood up and nodded before sashaying from the room without another word, glad to be out of the bastard's view.

Nearly a week later...

Nautica watched from her seat on a park bench as people milled about the Eiffel Tower. She had started work on the magical container project as she promised. That was going perfectly for the most part, it was her project that was off to a rocky start. She was absolutely devastated to learn that her beloved Sly turned up missing. Those damnable, and inept, paper pushers at Interpol lost him. On a helicopter! How could they lose a person on a helicopter? She had followed up on every lead she found on Interpol's servers, but still nothing. This Nimbus organization was very good at covering their tracks, which told Nautica two things: they had money, and they had some form of power. Maybe they were magi, or at least had magi under their employ? Either way, she had no idea where they, or her love, were. For now, all she could do was continue having groups of her men and women checking every nook and cranny from Paris to Lyon to try to pick up on wherever the raccoon might be.

She continued to look around warily since she was still wanted by Interpol for escaping custody, vehicular theft, and assault...and those were just the charges from the night she escaped. Luckily, the dye job that Desiree performed on her was still holding nicely. She definitely noticed that it took her sire a few moments to recognize her when she walked into his office a few days back, which made her mentally smirk at the recollection as she continued surveying the area. She wasn't just on the lookout for Interpol; she was also scouring the area for her drop man. She decided to continue with her divinely inspired idea, even though the main prize, and outcome, was nowhere to be found at the moment. Usually she would have sent Aubrey, her most trusted ally, after this crucial component, but he was still hospitalized with second and third degree burns. Therefore, she had to trust another henchperson with the pickup. She sighed and looked up at the French Monument gleaming in the distance and when she looked back down, a splash of white jetted by.

Nautica looked over to her right and noticed that a white bat was hastily making her way through the crowd. Before the vixen could really wonder why the bat was in such a hurry, she spotted Desiree approaching her out of her peripheral vision. The canine was carrying a blue lunch bag. It was a simple nylon affair that was folded over and sealed shut with Velcro. Nautica also had one those very same bags tucked under the bench behind her legs. Hers was different, though. It contained 11,000 Euros, rough 11, 500 US dollars, enough money to pay off the grad student that was watching those precious vials of DNA that Nautica secretly stored, which Desiree now carried in her bag. The fugitive slowly stood and embraced the canine before Desiree took a seat beside the woman, placing her lunch bag next to Nautica. The women began to have a rather mundane conversation. Then as they became convinced that the people around them were preoccupied, they turned the dialogue to more private matters.

"So, it's all here, yes?" asked Nautica in a slight whisper.

"Yes, it's all there," sighed Desiree, "are you sure this is a good idea? I mean, what if he doesn't like this?"

"He'll get over it. He has to," came Nautica's confident reply. The dog shot her a look that clearly said she was not convinced. Nautica ignored it and continued her interrogation.

"What of Interpol?" she asked. The canine shrugged.

"As far as our eyes and ears know, they are not on your trail yet. But they are still looking," she answered as she watched a mother and her rambunctious daughter walk by.

"And what of Cooper?" she practically demanded, much to Desiree's amusement.

The Dalmatian's muzzle curled upwards in a wry grin before replying, "It must have been killing you not to ask about him first!" she teased. Nautica only growled at her.

"Get on with it!" she snapped irritably. The other woman laughed quietly.

"Our scouts have determined that Cooper may have escaped and may be hiding out in the outskirts of Paris," she answered. Nautica felt her heart speed up in elation.

"Are you sure? What evidence do they have?" Nautica asked eagerly.

"There are a few photos of him on the rooftops, and there has been one or two of him coming out of farmer's markets and even a store or two over the last few weeks, but there have been no sightings of him in the last seven days. He may have moved to a lesser known location," said Desiree.

"Does Interpol know?" she asked casually, as she pretended to observe the crowd.

"No, they have been too busy looking for all of the escaped convicts, not to mention trying to solve that prison murder. Most of their efforts are focused on the areas near Evry and Lyon," muttered Desiree, as she stared disinterestedly at her nails.

"Oh yes, the walrus... and that is good. Inform me if anything changes," she said as she plastered a fake smile on her face. The hybrid then leaned over and hugged the canine, who stiffly returned the hug.

"I will, I will... Now, will you please remove those henchmen from around my mother's apartment? They are scaring her," pleaded Desiree in her ear.

"No, you have a tendency to backslide when I don't keep a tight leash on you," Nautica stated matter-of-factly as she released the Dalmatian. The dog glared at her before grabbing the lunch bag behind the hybrid's legs and leaving. Nautica then leaned down and grabbed the bag that was left behind. She opened it to find 4 vials of serum kept cold by a small frozen ice pack that came with the lunch bag. Then in a sealed bag there was a red apple. She reached in the bag and pulled it out. She unwrapped the fruit, and put the bag back in the lunch box. She closed the pack and sat it next to her on the bench. She spent the next 15 minutes lounging and nibbling on the apple. Once the apple was eaten, she placed the core back in the sealed bag and then placed it back inside. As she stood up to leave, she noticed that the white bat was making her way back across the square. She watched the young blonde continue past her, before turning and heading for the nearby Metro bus stop...

Meanwhile with Beatrice...

The young woman was on a single track mind as she continued to make her way through the surprisingly busy square. After all, it was only Sunday. She was desperate to get to her car as she still had another five hour drive ahead of her. These past few days had truly been stressful for the bat. She was juggling her job obligations around playing medical proxy for the ailing Sly. On top of that, Bryan and she were caring for Bentley and Murray. They were now under their care while in Lyon. That was part of the reason she had been back in Paris for the seemingly umpteenth time in the past few weeks. She had to come meet a "friend" of the gang's to pick up Bentley's medications. The turtle had been running low before the two made the perilous journey to Lyon and were unable to go back to Paris because of the large scale manhunt going on around the area for the convicts that escaped during the Deathrow Penitentiary prison break and had barely made it out of Paris. Therefore, the two bats were left doing most of the running as the other two members of the Cooper gang could not venture out of Beatrice's house; it was too risky. She had to get back to the house so that Bentley could get his medication, and then she could relieve Bryan at the hospital. The two of them had been taking turns staying with Sly and relaying information from the doctors to the worried family members at the house. She finally made it to the green car and hopped in before throwing the bag with the medication into the passenger seat. She started up the car and pulled into traffic. While she was sitting at a traffic light, she pulled out her cell and made a phone call. She waited as the phone rang.

"Hello?" said a nasally voice.

"Bentley, I have your medication, and I am on my way back to Lyon with it," she informed the turtle as she pulled away from the light.

"Great! Thanks," he said.

"I will be there in the next 5-6 hours. Any word from Bryan?" she asked.

"The last I heard, his condition had not changed. Sly's still comatose," answered Bentley...

And that is it! I am sorry it is so short, but that is all I have for now. The next chapter will be longer, promise. As always please review... and now for last month's Easter Eggs:

Chapter 1: There were no Easter Eggs.

Chapter 2: The size of the hole that Sly was in was 6ft by 6ft, which is a reference to the book, Holes by Louis Sachar.

Chapter 3: Sly's prison number: 14092004 is actually the scrambled release date of Sly 2, which is 09/14/2004.

Chapter 4: The phrase written on Bentley's laptop bag is an altered phrasing of the famous, "These are not the drones you are looking for." line from Star Wars.

Chapter 5: Claire makes a reference to The Shining when she mentions the words Red Rum, which of course is "murder" spelled backwards

Don't forget to make your guesses for this chapter in the review!

Dragon and Sword Master: I want to apologize to the readers and people who review this story. As of 4/26/13, Chapter Six of Loving Strangers has been edited by myself.