Edit note: (reposted almost 2 hours after original posting): This stone talked about later in this chapter rests in the Cooper Vault often times. It wasn't always used to ensure the Cooper Family had all boys. In fact, if anything, it may have been used as an engagement pendant that a Cooper male would give to his beloved… they'd just so happen to have a male, she'd store it in the vault when Clockwerk came snooping around for it, a daughter or two would be born, but enough males were born to ensure that the name never got changed through marriage or whatnot. I made a tiny worded edit to Sly's reply to Chintzy. I realized that I was about to insult all the females Cooper Fans by not giving props to the Cooper Daughters that occasionally found their way into the intros! My bad :;sweat drop;:

-kit

CARRY ON!
A/N: Act1 has closed with much drama and intrigue :)

I called it The Waltz because it was three dramatic chapters. (after all, the Waltz is in 3/4 time signature. So I wrote three chapters, since it's sung, dance or played as "1, 2, 3, 1, 2, 3.")

I really had fun writing this story thus far. I've still got a lot to say & do. As far as the Lambada, which is the name of act2, it's usually done as, "one, two, three…and…" and it's characterized as a dance that goes, quick.. quick.. slow and timing. The female dancer usually follows on the balls of their feet, heels off the ground as if tip-toeing on hot sand, with a twist motion so that their steps become more of a 'grind,' as if stubbing out a cigarette, which emphasizes their hip movements. It's known as the 'forbidden' dance because it's so very sexual. It goes, "quick, quick slow… and-quick quick slow. And-quick, quick slow. So plan for the chapters to follow that writing style. To be honest, the Lambada often starts on the "and" in the fourth beat, as a lead in to the beginning of the measure. I'm doing that here, so by all means, expect chapter 5 and 6 to be fast action paced and chapter 7 to be something more subtle. I start this chapter in first person, just to mix things up… we'll get back into regular third person soon. Don't worry, I won't stay in first person… and my first-person writing won't totally suck. It'll give you some insight to what she's going through and why she's going to help her worst enemy… enjoy!

Act 2: The Lambada

Chapter 4: Hell Hath No Furry…

My eyes were wide open and yet I couldn't see the answers right before me. This has happened before and it happens to every good Inspector from time to time, but this time was not exactly the best time for something like this to happen. My body ached and I could feel how this frustration was grating on my nerves.

There was a cool gale ripping through the soft brown jacket I was wearing. I could feel my hair being tugged at by the wind from the spot I'd taken on a rooftop. I found myself across the street from the People's Bank of the Czechs' Republic.The fact of the matter was they had Sly Cooper. He was mine.

Where they were, I couldn't fathom. My nerves were catching up with me, if I didn't see him soon, who knows… I was turning into an emotional wreck. All this freakin' drama in my life, it was starting to get to me. Where the hell was Sly? My stomach was full of butterflies, he was my prize catch. Worse yet, something about my most recent dream brought me here.

Where has my heart gone? It was an uneven trade for the real world. I wanted to go back to believing in everything and knowing nothing at all. Where was my heart? I'll tell you. It was trapped in the eyes of an immoral stranger. He was in trouble and for once, it was up to me to help him. God, how I wanted to go back to believing in everything; the cliché 'love, life and happiness' with a white picket fence. It wasn't going to happen. He was still my enemy no matter how much I secretly obsessed over him.

But I am an officer of the law. And life really isn't fair. And I'm no longer Naïve. I pressed on, keeping my nose to the wind. I knew things would get hairy from here. The largest bank in the center of downtown Prague was well staffed with intelligent guards and I didn't have a badge. I'd never done anything illegal in my life, save for the minor destruction of public property in the line of Police Duty.

I take that back; I've never done anything illegal. It was all within policy. I never went over the line. But now? They had Cooper. He was, is and always will be…mine. That's when it happened…

My eyes widened and I couldn't believe it was all true. It had taken hours to get to Prague and the whole time I questioned myself for going on a dumb hunch but now it all paid off. An enigmatic gentleman was blatantly carrying Cooper over his shoulder, walking through the front doors, playing it cool.

Blatant abduction… that's what it was. The wolf seemed fairly well built but I knew I could take him if I got my paws on some firearms. I'd have done anything for my Shock Pistol right now, but there was no way I was going to have that wish granted, tonight.

Hopping down from my high point, the ground rushed up to meet my feet and it caused a shiver. I thought of that damn night I had my first nightmare and vaguely remembered falling on my face afterwards. Tonight I was a little more graceful; I had to be at the top of my game to get Cooper back.

The thing is, as I crossed the street, I thought to myself about things that I shouldn't have gotten around to thinking about. If my dreams led me here to save him and he really turned up to be in trouble, how accurate were my dreams? I thought about the psychology of the dreams, really. I didn't do anything to save him, or work as a team with him in those nightmares and he always wound up dead. If I put forth my two cents, maybe he'd survive this. As far as Clockwerk's part in those dreams, well… I didn't want to think about it. How do you arrest a two story metal freak?

You don't; I'll tell you that, right now. My footsteps remained quick and quiet, dashing across the street and stopping in front of the main doors. The bank had closed about an hour ago and I didn't have a plan or any backup. No weapons; it was all a huge mess, waiting to get far sloppier. Moving away from the doors, I began to scout the perimeter, trying to look like an average citizen.

One finger went to my ear and the other went to a small piece of plastic on my belt. I quickly thumbed through the police scanner to see if I couldn't pick up anything about sightings concerning a lupine and a raccoon over his shoulder. It had to look obvious to anyone they'd passed.

"-ector Fox? This is Bentley, over?" My eyes widened and my jaw nearly dropped. Sly Cooper's friend Bentley? It had to be. No one else called someone by their last name over a multi-band police scanner. Besides, I didn't KNOW any other guys named Bentley.

Easing in on the reply switch, I said, "Bentley! What in the heck are you doing? This is an official police-only broadcast radio." I'm not sure why I scolded him. Impulse, I guess.

His reply was short and sweet, "There's a private band multi-frequency radio in the potted plant on the west end of the building. Pick it up so we can work on some sort of plan together. I'll fill you in when you find it. Bentley out." The line went quiet again. I called for him but there was no reply. I found myself heading for the west end of the Bank and checking each of the large potted ceramic containers. They were on the side of the building and added to the bank's landscape; I searched with diligence.

After the third potted plant, I found a pair of high-tech binoculars with a small antenna with 'send' and 'two-way' buttons labeled on the side. A binocucom. I snatched it from the hiding spot, re-wired my personal radio's earpiece into itand opened a channel, easing in on the key marked 'two-way'.

"This is Carmelita, do you read?" I felt silly doing this. Sly did have one thing I could envy, however. He had loyal friends. One would think that Interpol knew the value of a loyal team but sometimes the bad guys had things more together than the good guys. I hated that.

"Inspector Fox, yes I read you," Bentley replied. I cringed, quickly pulling the communicator away from my face. He was over excited and I was in no mood to tolerate someone shouting in my ear. After I was pretty sure he'd calmed down, I brought the communicator back to my face and he continued. "Inspector Fox, are you going to infiltrate the bank to find Sly? You don't have a warrant do you?"

"For once," I said with a wan sigh, "I don't care about a warrant. It wouldn't mean anything right now, anyhow. You know, he turned himself in for you and your get-away driver, once. I hope you have the same companionship ethics."

"Let's not talk about ethics, Miss Fox," Bentley told me. "You're breaking into a heavily secured bank and I'm a cyber-hack and thief. Let's just get Sly!" I couldn't disagree, he had a point; I just wanted to make sure he was prepared to do what it took to get Sly back, the way Sly did what it took to get his two friends to safety. However, it seemed as though he was ready to get down to business right away and that provided some measure of comfort.

After all, we were both professionals. We both stood behind our work with a measure of pride. Either this was about to be the most clever, ingenious rescue operation in history or it would turn into the biggest faux pas blunder and wind up becoming the biggest howler of all time.

"There's no time for gaffe, Miss Fox," the tortoise said, shaking me from my reverie. "I've mapped out a way to get inside, through the local sewage drain, but first you need to arm yourself."

"Don't worry about me," I told him, "I'll manage weapons OSP." I didn't bother to explain that OSP meant "on-site procurement," I just assumed if he didn't know, he'd ask. That never happened. He told me he's only helping me to get Sly back from the abductor. He explained that he is transmitting a frequency over the communication that, while it was above my range of hearing, it would cause any recording equipment to have a distorted playback.

I never argued it, I didn't want someone having blackmail on me for later; I was in enough trouble with Interpol, right this moment. I didn't need any more. This temporary truce between me and the brain of the Cooper gang was my way of using him to get to Sly. Of course he had the same intent, wanting to get to Sly, but I had better reasons, anyhow. I had smartened up since being used by Neyla. That wasn't about to happen again.

After all, this whole thing was an act of desperation on my part. I had to get Sly back to show my Commanding Officer that I was a worthy officer. I just couldn't arrest him until my freakin' suspension was finally lifted. Proving something to the subordinate of the Secretariat General was my only option. If the head of Interpol really was crooked, that meant my precinct's chief was technically the highest ranking person I could trust. However, he was just following orders.

And for once, I was doing the opposite. …But only in the name of Justice and Law. No one knew my religion better than I did. I'm a fourth generation cop, after all. I wasn't taking Law into my own paws, I was simply doing this to get back my prize capture and expose impurity in our organization so that I could expunge it in the name of integrity and justice. Interpol wasn't a stain on someone's sleeve, just the man running it…. If my hunch was correct, that is.

I stood behind my hunch. I operated better when things were Black And White. And right now, I was running on all 8 cylinders.

Bentley swallowed hard. He couldn't believe he was doing this and the thought of working with a cop, suspension or not, was unsettling. Fact was, he didn't know much about her situation as it was. "Yes, uhm," He paused for a moment, "So, Inspector Fox, I take it we're working together for a short time, so I've scoped their security, their floor plans and I think I have a plan that should get you in and out without getting caught, so you keep your job, in exchange for this never having happened, understood?"

He waited for her reply. He wasn't going to help her if she had plans to arrest him when she got her badge back. "How did you know I was suspended? That's very classified, personal information, tortoise."

"I've got my sources, Miss Fox," Bentley tried not to sound too insulted. There was nothing classified he couldn't access, as far as he felt concerned. To him, she was still a cop, though. He glanced down at his keyboard, tugging the wireless component into his lap and pulling up the file he'd created based on the information he'd gathered on the place. "I've gotten lucky so far. This guy brought none of Sly's gear but he did bring Sly without removing his belt, the staple belt-buckle has a tracking beacon inside of it. I monitored all phone calls made by this guy to some guy calling himself "SG1". Now, are we in accordance or not?"

"SG," Carmelita said with a sigh, "means Secretariat General, if my hunch is correct. We have a deal. This never happened." Her image appeared on the left corner of Bentley's computer screen. Apparently she'd put the earpiece into place and was using the binoculars to scout the building from an alleyway across the street.

The turtle's eyes scanned over her face. Sapphire tresses framed the vixen's feminine visage. No wonder Sly liked this woman so much. Bentley noted that she was far more attractive on the screen than in her file. He'd seen her face to face before, but it was either the lighting or the fact that he was looking at her in a different metaphorical light, right now, because she was about to help Sly. Pretty girl. Sly would do well to work things out with 'old iron sides," as he called her from time to time.

Sly Cooper's eyes fluttered open. The wolf he faced was nowhere in sight. But before him was a pair of metallic bars that slid into focus. They blurred again as his focus now shifted beyond them to the sight of an ethereal beauty on the other side of his new cage.

The purest of white furs caressed along a curvaceous little form, clinging like a blanket of fresh virgin snow. That soft sea of silken pearl was broken only by those intricate patterns made of contrasting carnation pink fur. Ancient symbols coiled around supple young curves. Their unknown meaning had been lost to the passage of time.

Always the carefree girl, she was the third last of her race; the product of a heated union between feline and fox. A thin pink top cascaded over luscious young breasts which seemed to perk up with every step towards Cooper's cell, causing a constricting shirt to tug against them. Perfect grip-able hips, and that firm heart - shaped rump, hidden beneath a short flowing skirt of white made this girl absolutely noticeable.

Golden locks of sunlight fell to brush against her shoulders and part reluctantly about twin feline ears. Mischievous yet innocent sea-green orbs twinkled like emeralds between soft sandy bangs, and her pink tinted cheeks. The raccoon's eyes widened slightly, his pupils dilating.

"Good evening, Monsieur Cooper," She said in a dreamy, feminine voice.

Trying to maintain his casual air of indignation, Sly replied, "What happened to your boyfriend? I was just warming up when he got the drop on me."

"Mm," She murmured the sound with a smile. Her ears perked a bit then her muzzle tugged further into a grin, offering a Cheshire expression. "Far from my boyfriend, I assure you. That one, Donovan Loupe, is an enigma, my boy."

"Boy?" Sly scoffed, "You've got to be in high school, still. So what do they put in the water in your cafeteria?" Cooper tilted his head, trying to keep his eyes from wondering. The girl looked only 14 or 15, easily. The thing is... she was endowed like a busty 25 year old woman on hormones.

"You've still not figured it out without your brainy friend," pouted the lush little Felox. Her dazzling smile disappeared for a moment, only to return with her fangs bared. The pearly incisors glistened like the whitest ice. "He's of no use, he can't carry out his own plans without the help of those who exceed his own physical limitations," She added.

"And it seems you can't carry yourself without a wonder bra," Sly retorted, turning away to take his eyes off of her luscious form. "Is my team that illustrious, lady?"

"My, you used a large word, I'm nearly impressed," giggled the half-breed. "I thought you were a brainless pretty-boy with an overly unnatural dexterity."

"By all means, go on thinking that. If I'm not a complete nerd, I must be a complete idiot," Sly replied with a shrug, facing the back of the cell. It was solid concrete and easily looked impenetrable. He rarely took his eyes off of a foe but with bars between the two of them, he meant for it to be recognized as a gesture of insult.

"Brains or not," Said the woman, "the view is nice from back here," She continued before pausing dramatically. Finally she offered a thespian sigh, adding, "my name is Karla Chintzy. Donovan and I are all too pleased to bring you here to lure your Inspector friend out to Prague. You're going to die, Sly Cooper, so I might as well tell you that she's got to die because she simply meddles in the affairs of our employer far too often and now that he is her superior in Interpol, she's a loose cannon that needs to get the big deep-six."

"Your last name fits you perfectly," Sly chuckled under his breath. He walked across the cell then sat down on a bench and offered a shrug. "I've used prettier girls."

"If it's Constable Neyla you speak of," Said Karla, "Then please realize, she used you first, m'boy. I'm older than I look."

"Neyla?" Sly rolled his eyes. "She was just a protégé of an idiot. We let her lead us in the right direction because she thought she was using us to get things uncovered for her, when she was completely responsible for involving my clique in finding the Clockwerk parts in the first place."

"Your coterie set back a lot of people," Said Karla. "Clockwerk was our greatest asset and at the same time, our greatest pawn. His destruction needs must be avenged, boy." She pressed her torso against the cell bars, easing her muzzle between two of the iron cylinders. "But Carmelita destroyed something vital and so that makes her the first to go, so we can continue."

"Since I'm going to die anyway," Sly mused thoughtfully, "What exactly are you trying to continue?"

"Rebuilding him, of course." Chintzy looked pleased with herself. "We've rebuilt his main processor. We've archived his metallic mind onto a computer hard drive and now we're going to rebuild him. There is too much he is required for," She explained with a shrug. "And we have you to thank for retrieving the chip and bringing it to us."

"I'll rip him apart all over again," Sly hissed defiantly. "Just because you got the stupid chip back in your paws doesn't mean you'll be able to complete the project. He's done for; all you're building is a rip off version of something that's already gone forever."

"Do you not realize why he was a rival of your ancestors, Monsieur Cooper?" The olive eyes of the opulent vision of femininity sparkled with mirth. Her gaze danced over his masculine features, causing her to lick her lips before continuing to speak forth. "You see," She told him with a personal tone, "He was part of us… a freak of nature. He was a bit of a kleptomaniac in his youth but it was usually because we used him as a pawn to do our bidding."

"I'm so totally impressed by your circus sideshow," Sly muttered.

"And so we had him obtain a fertility stone," She explained overtop of his brusque grumble. "It's a one hundred forty-three karat diamond stone that causes the holding couple to guarantee a male offspring, let alone any offspring. Our race of supernatural beings cannot bare our own progeny."

Sly Cooper, ever concise, finished her statement. "He obtained it, my family stole it off of him before he could deliver it to you guys, he spent ages trying to get it back and all this time, it had been sitting, securely, in the Cooper family vault, right? And whenever a daughter was born in the Cooper family, it was assumed that it was because the stone was currently sitting in the family vault in disuse or something?"

"Really now," She snapped, "Was it truly that obvious?" The milky-pink furred feline swished her bushy fox-tail from left to right in a sign of irritation. "Don't agitate me, Monsieur Cooper. I'm not as predictable as you think."

"And instead of asking for it back so all your buddies can get you pregnant," Sly began, mock-yawning in an attempt to look bored, "You decided to have Clockwerk continue to shank my family members in an attempt to retrieve it for you? I've lost all revere for Clockwerk; I thought he was the devil but it turns out he was just a powerful imp."

"Your prattle amuses me. However, this ceaseless banter is no longer necessary," Karla told him. "SHE is here. As far as what's in your silly vault, we attempted that route with Doctor M. However promising, he turned out to be another disappointment. Ultimately he became paranoid with fear of us always hounding him for results. He set up a rather amusing fortress and in his delusional state, we had hoped he would simply stumble onto success."

Sly blinked, standing up once more. Carmelita was here? He couldn't understand why she came for him. "However," Continued Karla Chintzy, "Between your buddies and the Interpol Inspector, we've had our greatest failures in the last few years. And that is why you both must die. I'll return later, when I am able to gloat about using her skull as a goblet. Until then, Monsieur Cooper!"

Before he could offer rebuttal, she turned from the cell and her body began to crystallize. There was a soft glowing aura that emanated from the archaic glyphs that were branded into her flesh and fur. The chrysalis crystalloid structure frosted over so that it went from translucent to opaque. Sly approached the bars, watching curiously.

Suddenly, a crack formed over the jagged structure, followed by several other perpendicular fractures and splinters which eventually caused the entire crystalline block to become covered with fissures. Two solid chunks cleft in twain. They shattered to tiny ash-like pieces, leaving nothing more than a wisp of steam to hover above the dusty remains. Sly blinked rapidly. There were no smoke bombs or other devices used, just a clean supernatural trick with no mirrors involved.

No, this was simply an esoteric, iniquitous freak. Her beautiful visage was the only thing that overcame her malevolence. And now she would use that malice in combat against Inspector Carmelita, for all Cooper could determine. Sly knew that Miss Fox couldn't even fathom what she was about to get into. He quickly ran to either end of the cell, checking for any loose cinder blocks nearest to where the corner bars were located.

The cell, however, was as solid as they came. If he didn't figure out something soon, he feared he wouldn't be able to save Carmelita this time around. He couldn't just sit around; he had to keep searching for a flaw in the cell. The problem was, there were no flaws in the architecture that he could discern.

Carmelita Fox placed the padded palms of her paws upon the metallic maintenance hatch. She pushed upwards on it and the hinges squeaked softly in light protest. Climbing up into the boiler room, the vixen was quick to scurry behind the heating system as Bentley directed.

"Incidentally," She murmured softly, "Where are you located?"

"I'm nowhere near Prague, that's for sure. I can't just leave Paris in the middle of this convention," Bentley explained, not bothering to tell her that he had to stay to ensure the stolen chip was good enough to pass scrutiny, lest he have another problem on his claws.

The tortoise coughed softly over the microphone, "Inspector Fox, what's your ulterior motive for rescuing Sly?"

"What're you talking about," retorted the vixen, balking over his innuendo. "It's because he's my prize catch, I can't let him slip away."

Bentley wasn't buying it. He tilted his head over the liquid-crystal-display monitor that covered her left eye and said, "Our names are currently cleared. If they weren't, you'd have arrested him at the Café."

"How'd you know about that?" She snapped quietly, narrowing her eyes. Bentley didn't reply. She finally just shook her head and added, "Because this time he's a victim and did nothing wrong. Abduction is an international crime, remember?"

"There's something you're not telling me, is there?" The turtle asked with a chuckle. This time, Carmelita didn't answer. She put her paws on the edge of the metallic cylinder and hoisted herself up, over the lip. Crouched atop the heater, she glanced up and grinned. The nerd was right; there was a return register directly above her. "Didja find it?" He asked, nearly startling her.

"Yeah. It's here. I'm going to climb up into the vent and see what I can do," She told him. After a moment, she added another thought, aloud. "When I get to this supposed vertical shaft, are you sure it's narrow enough that I can scale it?"

Bentley simply sighed. It wasn't that he was being short tempered with her but the situation was certainly a frustrating one. "As long as you utilize your feet, paws and back, you should be able to wiggle up the shaft, but if you fall, you're sure to break a leg… so don't."

"Thank you," Sighed Fox in reply. She began to scuffle through the vent, occasionally lifting a paw to brush back those lengthy strands of cerulean which partially obscured those soft dark-amber hues. Every so often, she passed through a section of the vent that allowed light in through the gaps in the metallic plate sections.

The voluptuous vixen eased to the left, following directions given to her earlier, then stopped where the ductwork went straight up. She wiggled up into the 90 degree angle then stood up in the vertical section, doing her best to reach back and smooth out her tail.

She placed her paws up against the edges, arching her back and jutting her rump outwards. She then placed her feet and knees up against the shaft walling, beginning to wiggle her body upwards. Azure locks fluttered down over her face once more, growing cumbersome. She placed her paws directly in front of herself, wiggling another few inches upwards.

She kept her paws and knees firm against one end of the ductwork and her rump firm against the other end; she was able to move upwards in this fashion. Every so often, she'd find a vent register for her foot to gain purchase. Each time she came across one, she'd rest for a moment before trudging on, vertically.

Bentley's next reply was quiet and subtle so as not to startle her while she worked her way up the heating ventilation. "Inspector Fox, you're almost there. You've traveled two and a half stories so far. The register will actually be on your right and it will be pretty large; square shaped."

"Until further notice, just Carmelita will do," She huffed while working her body upwards. It took another few minutes to shimmy her body up to the metal grate. She lifted her left arm, crossing over her chest, then pressed her left thumb against one of the metal pins that held the aluminum painted covering in its place. One of them fell through the slats in the vent, the other popped out, landing on the carpeted floor on the other side of the vent. The one that went through the slats fell all the way to the bottom of the shaft.

She peered through the vented opening then called on Bentley; her voice at a whisper. "I'm here. Can you tell if things beyond my field of vision are kosher?"

"Well Inspector F-..er'm, Miss Carmelita, I've hacked into their surveillance cameras by placing a remote host program into their security computer terminal," Bentley began. He was quickly interrupted by the Vixen, who simply didn't want the mental masturbation talk.

"Short and simple, I'm multitasking my brain to keep myself alive, thanks," She muttered.

"I can see through their security cameras. Your hallway is completely clear, make your move," Bentley added in a flat voice. Carmelita did so, pushing the vent cover away from herself. She reached up to either side of the opening but felt her body beginning to slip.

"Oh… sh—," She quickly grabbed for the ledge, her fingertips sinking into lush, velvet carpeting. Her body hung at the mercy of her grip on the edge of the register that was at floor level on the third story. Furry digits curled into a half-fist, keeping a solid grip on the carpeted ledge, so as not to plummet to a probable death.

She clawed at the carpeted flooring just outside of the ventilation shaft in vain, attempting to hoist herself upwards, still dangling within. Her body tightened up, working herself into a stable position, with a three story drop into the abyss beneath her feet. Carmelita placed her heels against the back of the shaft in an attempt to push her body forward, through the square gap in the vent system.

Back in Paris, Bentley was using his laptop and his desktop to determine what the security cameras saw and replaced them with what the empty hallway looked like on a three second loop. On his desktop, the live action image portrayed a tiny being coming through the wall. Head and hair, followed by shoulders that linked to the arms and paws she was nearly laying atop of in attempt to claw herself from the shaft.

The body language she had did well to tell him she was pushing herself free with her feet. The vixen's left arm reached outward, groping for more carpet. She pulled herself from the hole, then rolled onto her back for a moment to catch her breath. She wasted no time, however, with getting back onto her feet. He could hear her voice before he could see her lifting the binocucom to her muzzle. Obviously, the system had a short second-and-a-half lag time, between Paris and Prague. Even so, he decided that the fiber optic network was rather fast.

Her voice took a harsh tone over the communicator. "I don't think we're going out the way we came in, so I hope you're working on a plan to get both of us out of here, once I find him."

"Way ahead of you," Bentley lied," I'll get you guys out safely but expect to put up some sort of fight," He added in earnest. His solemn worded expression told her that he wasn't being frivolous from his computer post, back in France. "You can trust in me just once, right Miss Carmelita?"

She was about to correct him concerning the "Miss" part, but she simply shook her head in stead, moving down the hallway. The vulpine moved to the door, turning the brass knob slowly and peering into the next hallway. It was eerily empty. "I thought you said this place would be heavily guarded and there would be combat involved," She muttered softly.

"I can't explain the absence of guards or staff, beyond the Luck Factor," Replied the Tortoise over her in-ear radio attachment. What Bentley couldn't see over the black and white security image and what she didn't realize, was the shadow that was growing out from underneath of her footsteps. With every treaded footfall, the shadow grew larger, emanating from beneath her feet. She paused, mid-stride and glanced back, over her shoulder.

Her eyes widened and the athletic vixen's posture changed, turning around and putting her paws up in a defensive stance. Bentley's voice came over the radio once more. "What are you doing?" He said in his slightly nervous, nasal-like restricted voice.

"Can't you see it?" She whispered in reply.

"See what?" Bentley asked, adjusting the hue, contrast and finally the sharpness on his monitor. It looked as though she was standing at the end of a lengthy 5 o'clock shadow. The dark matter solidified into a tangible, visual mass. The turtle's eyes shrunk to pinholes and his breath caught in his throat. "Oh no! Carmelita! It's the wolf! RUN!"

A/N: muwahaha. It's become pretty obvious that the character running this show of evil is also the director of a large bank with indefinite funding at his disposal... and who are these two new members of the Previously Assumed "clockwerk worshippers"? Sounds to me like they're actually Clockwerk's old Superiors... every bad guy usually answers to someone else... but an "Illuminati of Iniquity"? And it looks like they've been involved with the Cooper's since the beginning, simply making Clockwerk the face of their schemes. Sly never realized just how deep this all went and how his involvement really added up. All because The Supernatural lack the ability to bare their own offspring, they - like everyone - instinctively desire the right to survive by means of reproduction. Afterall, it's the meaning of life itself. Apparently a talisman charm in the form of a diamond gives someone the power to bare children. In the hands of the mortal man, it guarantees the next of kin to be "XY" Male. And thus, nearly every Cooper picture we see in the introduction of each SlyGame has been a male descendant, except for a select few. One can suppose it has spent a little time in the Cooper Vault for some of the Cooper Daughters. And as far as Sly, if he never even knew about it, maybe he was just good ole' fashion luck-of-the-XY-draw. It's hard to know for sure until we get further into the story. But remember, that's only a subplot... our main story revolves around the ever lovable vixen, making her a spotlight protagonist right now!
Heh, am I putting TOO much thought into this story? hehe. Anyway, get ready for Chapter 5, coming soon!