Summary: Dora is prepared to rescue Blue, but upon entering the building, she meets her foe and is surprised by his identity.

Rating: M. It may get gruesome or...naughty in later chapters.

A/N: It's much longer this time. I'm having fun with this story. Our antagonist is a little more than creepy, and perhaps a little messed up in the head? *evilface*

Genre: Drama/Crime

Disclaimer: This is a fan-based story! Dora, Swiper, and Blue are owned by Viacom International and NickJr/Nickelodeon. Story based off of StranglyNormal's deviations (deviantART) involving this trio.

"Her distress signal has been coming from an old abandoned building. We've pinpointed it to the third floor. Spies have been observing the place since the signal was first received. There is a large garage in the back that would be easy to slip into, and there is a lot of cover in case you meet your enemy in there." One of the intelligence team members informed Dora. "There is a stairwell to the left. That should take you right up to the third floor, but you may be vulnerable to gunfire in there, so be careful."

"Don't worry. I will be." She took a packet from his hands that contained pictures and maps of the building, many of which pinpointed important locations and possible obstacles. She looked them all over quickly as she attached a gun holster and a sheathed dagger to her waist. In theory, it was a simple mission: get in, rescue Blue, get out, but Dora's opponent, known only as #1, was the most notorious criminal in I.L.L. Dora was well prepared, packing all the necessities in pouches that hung off of her belt: extra bullets, bandages, water, and a few cookies for her and Blue once the mission was complete, no doubt Blue would need them. She placed in the holster a simple hand gun before getting into the car. The building was a mere 30-minute drive from the base. There was a small restaurant about a quarter mile away from the building, and this is where Dora decided to park. The sun had just sunken below the horizon, making this the perfect time to move. She ran quickly through the brush and trees to get to the building. Once there, she sunk down into the bushes and walked around the building slowly, observing it.

"So there is the garage." She said, observing the half open garage-like door. It seemed odd that the building wouldn't be sealed tight, almost as if it was inviting her in. "But it seems like this is my only way in." She whispered. Her movements were fast – across the open area between the bushes and the door before throwing herself against the outside wall as silently as possible. She peered in. Other than a single emergency light dangling from the ceiling, the room was completely dark. Dora slipped under the door quickly as to not be seen.

Once inside, Dora immediately felt eyes on her, but she shrugged off the feeling, believing it to be her nerves. She looked around and saw tons of boxes. This was good for her, for in the dark, it was easy to hide in their shadow. She crept across the room over to the door that led into the stairwell. She was nearly there when she heard a noise. It came from above and to her right. Was it a breath? A growl? Maybe it was just the building creaking. Her questions were soon answered:

"What kind of noises do you make?" A male's voice with a slight Brooklyn accent asked, "Do you scream? I bet it's a beautiful sound." There was a slight chuckle in his voice.

Dora froze. Did her know her exact location? Her hand instinctively moved to her gun holster.

"Now, now dear. Are you afraid? Your breathing has quickened, and I can no longer hear your footsteps. I guess you should be, being my offering from… whatever agency you come from."

'He could hear me? That means he's not human. An anthro, like Blue? Why didn't anyone tell me this?' She screamed in her head. Dora took a deep breath and turned to face the voice. "To what do I owe the honor, meeting the I.L.L.'s infamous #1?"

"Ah… You are a girl. I was wondering. Your footsteps were pretty light, but I thought it may have just been one of those bitchy little boys some organizations send." Dora could hear heavy boots walk across the beams high up in the garage, moving closer. "I'm guessing you're from the same little organization where that pretty little blue puppy came from. Oh what sweet noises she makes. You gave her to us, to me, and now you want her back? How selfish."

"I'm afraid that there was a recall on blue puppies. You can return her to the company for a full refund." Dora replied with a smirk on her face.

"I prefer exchanges." He said. Dora saw a glint of orange as he dropped down from the ceiling. "Now come out and show your pretty little face to see if I accept the exchange." He already knew her location. She could not conceal her footsteps form an anthro's sensitive ears, and he could probably smell her as well.

Dora slowly moved into the light, figuring that it would be better to face her opponent head-on rather than playing a chasing game. She saw him for the first time. He was a fox anthro with a blue tattoo on his arm. He wore a blue mask and held a large hand gun in his right hand. Inscribed on the gun was the word "BITCH" and Dora wondered why he carved the word into the metal. She looked back to his figure. He didn't wear a shirt, and was well-muscled. His fur was an orange-brown color. Something about him seemed familiar, but she couldn't put her finger on it.

The fox observed her back. Her thick, dark brown hair hung down to her shoulders and bordered her bonze face. "I thought I heard a slight accent in your voice. You're Hispanic." His voice had a taunting tone to it. She stood much shorter than him, so when she gave him an angry look, he started to chuckle. He couldn't shake the feeling that he had met this girl somewhere before. He sniffed the air. He could smell the foundation on her face, and another sweet smell. "What perfume are you wearing, my dear." He said, almost in a trance.

"Perfume?" She asked a little confused, "Why would I be wearing perfume?" Wearing something with a strong smell could endanger her on a mission such as this one, so she never wore the stuff. She then though about the contents of her pouches. There were cookies in there; that must have been what he was smelling. 'A fox that likes cookies?' She could only recall one other time where animal had such an affinity towards cookies. Suddenly, she knew how this fox was familiar. He was orange and wore a blue mask, he belonged to a group that began with a series of theft crimes, and he likes cookies.

"Swiper." She dared to breathe.