A/N: lol…So, originally, I wrote a 3,100 word 'linear note' section for the author's note, today. But then I wrote that feedback review for myself, one that was ridiculously long but not nearly as long as the original A/N I planned to write, here. So yeah, you guys, I summarized everything, put it up in the review section, asking people to take their soap box to the FORUMS and keep the feedbacks for the "hate it / love it, here's why…" notes. Anyhow, I just updated THE CURSE, which has very few "drab, plain, amateur" style descriptions. Now it's time to write THIS chapter and of course, I have Chapter 3 of REFLECTIONS OF PEPPY sitting on my Wife's PC, ready to update. At any rate, while this has been a story about CARMELITA so far, I'm starting to realize that a lot of people out there want more SLY action for a little while. I won't put Carmelita on the backburner, but let's face it, people… She's exhausted. I've put the poor girl through metaphorical hell and literal purgatory. She's going to take a little breather for a chapter or two… now, her past-tense doppelganger is still around, so we're also going to reacquaint ourselves with HER.

Hehe. Okay, I'll hush now! Let's get back to the action!

Chapter 22: "Karla"

Carmelita Montoya Fox was once an Inspector for Interpol. It was quite possible she would regain that status in the near future, however she was currently powerless when it came to upholding Law, Order and Justice. Currently, Carmelita Fox was nobody. And right now, she felt like nobody.

The pair found an Elysium for the time being. Their safe house consisted of the upstairs corner of an apartment complex under renovation, two blocks from the square. Bentley was busy planning and Carmelita was, in contrast, bored. Her muzzle rested on the window sill, staring through her reflection, at the clouds rolling in and covering the small white ball in the night sky.

In the background, a radio near Bentley's computer reported a winter storm warning in the near future but it didn't matter: Carmelita couldn't understand the language of the radio DJ. She fluently spoke Spanish, French and English but beyond that, she needed a translator.

Soft brown orbs reflected the rows of street lamps and her nose was pressed up against the cold window glass. Part of her wanted to sleep but after having seen herself murdered in the arms of Sly Cooper, she felt restless. She'd had dreams that hindered her rest for over a week, now. Needless to say, she was scared to death of what her next bout with REM sleep would cause. What if her next nightmare caused her to snap? Could she handle it?

Inspector Fox felt as though her spirit was close to being broken. Her heart was heavy and her mind was weary. She felt drowsy, like she'd taken one too many sinus pills for what should have been a case of mild congestion. Carmelita couldn't function and she felt about two sheets to the wind.

"I've been crunching numbers," Bentley announced from his computer. His voice sounded distant but Carmelita still heard him. Her rhythmic breathing was leaving momentary splotches of fog on the window glass. She breathed out through her nose so that she didn't have to open her mouth; her muzzle still rested on that window's ledge. Bentley continued his explanation.

"So," He said, his eyes flitting over the screen to double check his calculations. "The way I see it, we have to break the pattern and do everything different. The more we try to make things stay the same, the more likely it is that we all end up dead, again."

Carmelita would have asked what he suggested as the next course of action but she had a feeling he'd tell her, anyhow. So, she simply kept still, lazily gazing out into the night. She couldn't have been more right: Bentley continued to speak.

"The way I see it," He repeated then paused again. Bentley wheeled over to the plain, fabric sofa where she was resting. He glanced out the window to see if she was looking at something interesting then turned his attention back to her. "We have to rescue Sly right away. I say we do it before he meets with The Sire or Karla Chintzy. The sooner we locate Donovan in the bank, the sooner we can fill him in on everything. He'll be on our side; we already know Karla's alliances. I say we strike as soon as possible and get the team together, where they'll be safe."

Carmelita, not even bothering to lift her chin from the window sill, muttered through half-clinched teeth, "An electric abacus told you all that?"

"Not exactly," Bentley said in a defensive tone. "There are variables that I employ and mathematical formulas that I utilize to equate things into a percentage to conjuncture our success. Every time I run numbers that represent one course of action, I then conversely run numbers to represent our second choice course of action. I take the most successful course of action and make it Plan A. I take the second most successful course of action and make it Plan B. I take the least successful plan of action and avoid that scenario all together."

"Ah." Her reply was simple and designed to acknowledge that she was being spoken to. Bentley frowned. What else could he do? She was practically a zombie from all that had been happening to her in the last few days. It was all adding up; taking its toll on her body and mind. She made a weak attempt at snappy patter as her reply by adding, "So you guesstimate."

"I need your help, rescuing Sly," He said.

"What about the other me?" She grumbled softly, leaving a larger puff of condensation on the window glass.

Bentley glanced around, furtively, as if he was about to let her in on a secret, then told her, "We rescue her, too. Nobody goes into that bank. We get the team together, we explain the situation then we launch a direct assault on that bank, before The Reaper can be called back into action."

"I won't go for it, the other me won't blow up a bank, it's against the law," she said into the window. She made a valid point but the monotone quality of voice with which she worded her statement seemed to suggest as though she didn't care one way or the other. Bentley was trying his best not to grow frustrated. "She'll think I'm an evil clone, working with 'The Cooper Gang.'"

"You thought you saw Slick Cooper as an evil clone," Bentley mused. "Think it could have been the real Sly Cooper from another paradoxical time skew?"

"Nah," Carmelita's reply seemed less than professional. It was completely unlike her in every way. "Black fur with Gray markings. Complete opposite of Sly." Her statements were but broken fragments of a proper sentence structure. She was consumed by her exhaustion.

"I'll have to leave you here," Bentley said.

"Yeah?" Her reply showed that she didn't care one way or the other at this point. She was starving and tired beyond belief.

"Yeah," He repeated. "I'll link up with the Carmelita who is breaking into the bank and explain what's going on to the Bentley on the other end of her head set. Then I'll help her out and we'll rescue Sly successfully and bring him back here. From there, I'll personally tell Donovan Loupe what's going on so we can get him on our team early on. Then we'll take care of Karla Chintzy. I've got a plan for what to do with her, too."

"What's your plan?" Carmelita asked, finally lifting her head. The soft tuft of fur at the base of her neck was exposed through the buttons beneath the collar of her shirt. She looked rough and the dark circles beneath her eyes were deeper than earlier.

"Let's just say, I've got a non-lethal idea to Ice that chick. You'll see," He said, wheeling himself around, to face away from Carmelita. "I want you to sleep. I found some Tylenol PM in with my stuff. It's got the same sleep agent as Unisom and should help you sleep for the next 7 hours. When you wake up, it will be time to act. I hate to drug you so that you can rest, but you'll be worthless without sleep."

Inspector Fox simply sighed. "If I sleep for 7 hours, I sleep through the entire night. Everything happens tonight, Bentley."

"No, a lot happens tonight, the rest happens tomorrow," Bentley replied. "We all die in forty-eight hours.. I'll need you at your best tomorrow. I left the two pills and a bottle of water on the desk next to my laptop. I'll see you in the morning."

"I don't know why I trust you," She said. "All right, I'll take it. I don't want to die in Sly Cooper's arms. I just want my job back," Carmelita groused softly. She sat up then slid off the sofa and crossed the room. The vixen snatched up the Tylenol PM, picked up the bottle of water and chased the pills down with a quick swig. "Maybe this Tylenol will help my ear feel better, too."

"From where you took a bullet?" Bentley asked. Carmelita nodded in silence. The turtle simply grinned. "If I go to that bank tonight and meet up with your other half then rescue Sly, you'll never actually get shot in your ear. Everything I do tonight will be re-writing history."

"You'll piss of Don Juan," Carmelita mused softly.

"Raul Sergio Poliandro?" Bentley announced in a Spanish accent. He then chuckled and added, "He knows if we don't fix this, we're all going to die. Then this 'devil' character will be reborn, like in the Revelations and stuff. Then time won't matter."

"How do you figure?" Carmelita said, taking another drink of the water.

The tortoise shrugged, wheeling his way over to the door. He paused then thoughtfully told her, "Clockwerk built with the soul of The Devil? Then the revelations happen and paranoid world governments try to solve it by nuking Clockwerk? A nuclear holocaust gives this evil entity its way and the world ends? It's possible. It sounds like the crappy plot of a stupid 'B' movie but now that we've seen this nearly played out, including the death of my gang? I'm a believer."

"Good luck, I guess." She half-sauntered back to the sofa, sinking down upon it.

Bentley frowned for a moment then asked, "You don't happen to have something on you, in your wallet or something, which I could show to your other half to convince her that I'm telling the truth, do you?"

"Huh?" The vixen just cocked a brow.

Bentley shrugged but continued to explain. "You know, some sort of super secret keepsake that only you would know about so that she knows that I'm telling the truth about you and our situation?"

"I can be sentimental," Carmelita acknowledge, "When it comes to keeping a bottle of wine to the side for the day I tag and bag that raccoon. And I only prefer the same trusty shock pistol that I've used since the day I picked it up for the first time… but I don't keep some super secret heirloom or locket or anything like that. I don't do that kind of crap," She said, laying back on the sofa. She glared up at the ceiling, looking to be in a rather foul mood.

The turtle wasn't defeated yet. "I thought every woman had some sort of special keep sake. Just something I could use to show her… you know," Bentley seemed rather desperate.

"Get over it," Carmelita replied. "Not every woman has a hope chest in her wallet. Not every cop has a special shell casing with a special dent in it, tucked away in their lucky sock, as their ultimate secret possession. Everything that's happened in the last 24 hours has been scientifically and theoretically improbable and so, logically, the Carmelita Fox that hasn't lived through this crap yet? Guess what: She, personally, will NOT believe you. She may go along with it to see Sly rescued but she will NOT trust you completely. Nothing I have can be shown to her just to gain her trust. This isn't a movie or some story book, Bentley. If anything, it'll cause her to trust you less, because she knows you're a thief. Now go and do what you have to do. I'll see you in the morning, like you said." She rolled over on the sofa, burying her face into the backrest. She didn't even want to look at him right now. She felt absolutely foul, at the moment.

Bentley shrugged his shoulders and wheeled his way to the door, opened it and rolled out. He shut the door behind himself and made his way to the building's elevator. He could only hope that the other version of Carmelita would be more responsive and logical about things right now.

Carmelita Montoya Fox wrapped her furry fingertips around the edge of the hole cut in the wall on the third floor of the Bank. She pushed her feet against the ductwork and pushed her body from the register, spilling out onto the floor. Her eyes were level with the round rim of a wheel. That amber gaze lifted, taking in the view of Bentley's wheelchair. Those light mocha irises widened.

Bentley knew what was going on all along. His present-day doppelganger was on the radio, in her ear and for her to be speaking to Bentley then see another Bentley in person was surly a confusing thing for her to grasp. Confusion shined in her eyes and her muzzle parted with a question that lingered at the tip of her tongue but Bentley lifted a hand to stop her.

"Quick, hand me your radio," the tortoise instructed. Having just followed his directions to safely infiltrate the building, she was in no position to question Bentley. She simply thought he was still in Paris. The first thing to cross her mind was that the turtle lied to her and was here all along. She had no idea that such was simply not the case.

Bentley took the radio from her paw and put it to his ear. He then said, "Bentley? This is Bentley, do you read?"

The squeaky, geeky voice on the other end was alarmed. "Who is this and what's going on?"

The future Bentley, who was on location with Carmelita, simply blinked. "Do I really sound that nerdy when I talk?" He muttered to himself.

"Excuse me?" Came the reply on the other end of the line.

The tortoise shook his head and said, "Nevermind that. I'm here with Carmelita. I need for you to get Penelope, pack up your gear and bring it to Prague. You'll locate a beacon transponder by the frequency of Eleven Mark Fifteen. Don't take the train, it will get hijacked if you board it. Locate Murray and the three of you come in the van. Carmelita and I are going to rescue Sly. Don't argue, just do it."

The tortoise on the other end of the radio protested anyhow. "How do I know this isn't a trick?" The nasal voice exclaimed.

"Two words," Bentley told his other self, "Time… Machine. This is an emergency situation to repair a plan that went very wrong. Everyone died except for me and a skewed version of Carmelita. You have no idea what you guys are about to fight or get into, so get your gear and come to Prague. Hurry." With that, Bentley closed the radio communications channel and turned to the past-version of Carmelita Fox. "I have a lot to explain but first, we have to rescue Sly."

"I suppose I can agree with that," She said, coming to her feet. Her paws were lifted, pushing back those thick, indigo tendrils. She was quite the shapely vixen and Bentley could easily understand Sly's physical attraction to her. "How are you here and who were you really just talking to?"

"I'm Bentley from the future. I know that sounds difficult to believe but it's true. Everyone was killed and I have to stop that from happening. A doppelganger of yourself was forced to witness the future murder of Carmelita and Sly Cooper in one another's arms at the talons of Clockwerk. Your dying version was smart enough to use her last breath to tell us how to fix everything… Instead of going back in time one day, she told us to go back in time again nearly one full week."

Carmelita's eyes went cold, expressionless. She looked the turtle over, untrustingly. "So you claim you built a time machine and came back to make sure we all survive; is that what you're telling me?"

"Yes, exactly!" Bentley pointed down the hall, "We've got to rescue Sly before The Sire or Karla Chintzy manages to meet up with him. Then, I have to help Sly to find The Sire and this Donovan Loupe character. The two of them together have to steal a pendant from The Sire."

"Wait a second," Carmelita growled. Her fur was now standing up on her neck and the bushy tail that followed her seemed to puff up. "I came here to rescue Cooper and leave. I'm not here to steal things! I knew you had an ulterior motive!"

"Your future half said you wouldn't trust me," Bentley admitted sourly. "There is only one way to prove to you that I'm here from another time. Raul!" The tortoise called for the temporal guardian that they had met at the Airport.

Raul Poliandro stepped from the gates of time-space, itself, and placed his palm upon Carmelita's shoulder. "¡Buenas noches, ranas y bonita Zorra!"

Carmelita's furry brows furrowed with confusion. "Who in the heck is this creep? And what does he mean by frogs?" She asked, speaking in French to Bentley. She did, however, understand the Spanish lexicon very well, being a Latin lady, herself.

"You know," Raul said with a grin, "Frogs! The French political party, foxy lady. I see the group is unidos, si?"

Bentley sighed softly. "Raul, she doesn't believe the way her other half believes because she's not been through everything her other half has been through. Can you, you know, stop time again or something?"

"The Affairs de Estado, you know, they're very ...ah… 'confusion', si?" Raul turned to Carmelita and placed his paws outwards. The canine had lively, beautiful eyes and a kind sort of smile that made any intelligent women back off. She knew he was a flirt and immediately distrusted him. Raul shrugged and then said, "Somebody flip a coin, eh?" Bentley reached into a small compartment of his wheelchair and tossed a single Euro into the air.

Poliandro snapped his fingers and the Euro stopped in mid air. "Your friend here built himself a time machine, Senorita. I told him that it was bad but when I realized where this time line will go? I decided to let him use it." He then turned to Bentley and asked, "And the other Carmelita¿Dónde está ella?"

"She's safe," Bentley asked.

"¿Dónde?" Inquired the canine, seeking to ascertain as to the location of the second time traveler.

"She's exhausted," Bentley explained, shaking his head. "She's seen things that nobody should have to witness. The entire episode is finally getting to her. I gave her something to help her sleep and now I'm going to try and help the past version of Carmelita, standing here, so that none of these things happen to her. Sly needs her in his life and I'd do anything for Sly."

Carmelita simply listened. She didn't know what to say or do. It was sweet to hear that from Bentley but at the same time, she couldn't bring herself to trust either of them. She only knew one thing at this moment: Her job. Finally, she snatched the Euro out of the air and said, "This could be a parlor trick. How can you prove that time has stopped?"

"Mire," Raul said, pointing at Carmelita's wrist. She blinked. He then added, "Su reloj, por favor, Mire; rapido!" She did as she was asked, reaching for her wrist and pulling back her sleeve, only to show him that she had no wristwatch. Raul reached his paw up to slap himself in the forehead. "You have a clock in your cellphone, Senorita?"

The Inspector sneered but did as she was asked, reaching into her pocket and pulling out the cellular telephone. She flipped it open and watched the digital clock. There was no 'second' counter, so she simply watched it as she was asked to do. A minute went by, then another. She waited, to disprove his trick, but the minute never changed forwards. Now she was only partially convinced. "There's no way you can stop time completely," She finally said, closing the cell phone.

"Dios mio, baby!" The Spanish flirt groused. "I'll show you! There's a guard down the hall, we'll take his gun and you can try to shoot me with it, honey! Then, I'll take the bullet out of mid air and hand it to you, yeah?"

Carmelita gritted her teeth, narrowing her gaze in challenge. She turned from the two men and headed down the hallway to find a guard. Sure enough, there were two in the next hallway. Both of them were frozen in time. She approached one of them and waved a paw before his face. It was eerie, seeing the guard unresponsive in such a way. She finally reached to take the gun out of his holster then walked back to where Bentley and Raul Poliandro were waiting.

She checked the chamber then pointed the weapon directly in Raul's face. Bentley cringed but the canine never flinched. She pulled the trigger and the gun fired. But no sooner did it fire, the blast froze in time. She pulled the gun away and yet the frozen flash stayed suspended in midair. A 9mm round was about two feet passed the stationary blast.

Raul plucked the bullet from midair and grinned. "You know, when I release time, this bullet will go flying off in whatever direction it's facing. All the stored momentum and energy is still in this bullet, making it very heavy."

Carmelita blinked. "Heavy?" She asked. Raul handed the round over. She was surprised by the weight. It was actually heavy.

Bentley was quick to offer an explanation. "Momentum and inertia and velocity all play factors, Inspector," He began.

"I know how that works, I use them as math variables to do my job," She snapped.

Bentley blinked but recovered quickly from her temper outburst and continued. "Because the bullet travels so many hundreds of kilometers per hour, you multiply the weight of the round by the power and velocity. You need so many pounds of force… or thrust, to make something go. That weight becomes part of the object while in motion. I'm sure it's quite heavy."

Carmelita narrowed her gaze again. She still had the bullet in her paw. "Let's just say I wouldn't want to drop this on my foot. Okay, so he can stop time. And he's here because you've shown up from the future or whatever. This doesn't mean I trust you… either of you. Let's finish this job and rescue Sly."

Bentley turned his gaze to Raul and asked, "Can you help us with your ability to freeze time? We need the pendant of Willpower from The Sire. Your ability to freeze time will help us to secure it."

"Sorry, Turtle," Raul said, shaking his head. "I can't work like that. It's against policy, you know? Now, I'm gonna restart time's flow again, si? Give the guard his gun back, lady. Letting you have it would be helping in a way that breaks policy. Go on, now."

Carmelita clinched her free paw into a fist then stormed off, down the hall and into the next hallway. Once she was out of Raul's line of sight, she removed the magazine of bullets and popped the other one out of the chamber. She placed the pistol back into the guard's holster then placed the heavy bullet directly in front of a security camera at the corner of the intersection.

Upon her return, she seemed to have a look of smug confidence painted on her muzzle. "Are there any other words of advice for us, Mr. Time Cop?"

"Si! If at first, you don't succeed, skydiving is not for you." The dog tilted his head, looking her over again. Carmelita couldn't help but shutter, shaking her head in distaste. Those extravagant, dark tendrils bounced about on either side of her face, framing her visage in a way that made Raul lick his lips. "Never test the depth of the water with both feet, Senorita."

Carmelita rolled her eyes to his 'sage' advice. Raul then tuned to Bentley and said, "Be careful with The Sire, amigo. He's crafty. It's always darkest before dawn. So, if you're going to steal your neighbor's newspaper, that's the time to do it, you know?" He then turned back to Carmelita. "You're pretty crafty yourself, baby."

"Oh? Is that right?" Inspector Fox said, folding her arms. "How do you figure? It's because I'm a 'fox', right?"

"No, baby," Raul said, prompting her to demand that he stop using that word. Raul simply spoke overtop of her complaint, saying, "You came back with a sly little grin, after putting the gun back in the guard's holster. You probably took all his bullets and did something clever with the frozen one. I should rewind time and stop you from doing it but you know what?"

"What?" Carmelita mumbled.

"You're cute, so I'll let it go just this once," Raul announced. He reached his paw up and cleared away the smoke and flash from the frozen gun blast then disappeared simultaneous to time returning to its normal pace. There was a noise down the hall, where the bullet smashed into the security camera, rendering it useless.

The sound alerted the guard who stepped into the intersection and drew his weapon. He fired the pistol but it clicked on empty. Bentley quickly mashed in a button on his control panel which launched a sleep bomb across the hall. It landed next to the guard and burst into a thin green veil of smoke. By the time the light fog lifted, the guard and his partner were seen on the floor, unconscious.

"Let's move," Bentley said. The two quickly darted off to find Sly.

Cooper was in his cell, but he wasn't alone. When Carmelita and Bentley approached from the back end of the hallway, they were quick to realize that Karla Chintzy was on the scene, waking Sly from his state of unconsciousness. Karla was strikingly beautiful. The purest snow-like fur covered her body with lovely pink markings strategically placed to enhance her prominent feminine curves.

As the tortoise and vulpine officer drew ever closer, they listened in on the conversation. Even in love with Penelope, Bentley couldn't help but look over the other woman as if appreciating a piece of art, simply for what it was: Art. Nothing more.

"Good evening, Monsieur Cooper," Karla said in her 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. Bentley could see her delicate ears perk a bit then the woman's muzzle tugged further into a grin, offering the raccoon a luxuriant, 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... Bentley and Sly both noted that she was endowed like a busty 25 year old woman on hormone pills.

"You've still not figured it out without your brainy friend," pouted the lush little Felox. Her verdant eyes lowered and that 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.

"Is that so?" Bentley said to her from behind. She whirled about just in time for the turtle to mash several buttons on his wheelchair. The mechanical seat boosted straight up in the air, going into a powerful spin. Both wheels extended from either side of the seat so that the right wheel caught her across her face, hard. She spiraled away from the chair, careening face first into the bars that separated her from Sly Cooper. Karla Chintzy then slumped to the ground, unconscious. Bentley then leaned over an armrest to look her over. "For a cute girl with such a hot asset, you can't even carry out your own plans of seducing Sly Cooper. It must be your… 'Physical Limitations'." He then lifted his head to Sly and offered a cheesy smile. "Hey, pal."

"Weren't you supposed to stay in Paris and make sure that," Sly suddenly paused, looking beyond Bentley to Carmelita, "Well, hello beautiful. Fancy seeing you here. Are you here to rescue me?" He asked of the vixen, batting his eyelashes like the cliché damsel in distress.

Carmelita smirked then glanced down at the unconscious half-breed Felox. She reached for the bars then delivered a swift kick to Karla's hip. "Oh, oops, I didn't see her there. Whoever she is, I already despise her."

"We should have gone on your instincts all along," Bentley mused, shaking his head. "You never liked her and she turned out to be an ardent thorn in our side, later on. She led us to believe she was here to help us so she could get close enough to cause us grief."

"Then let's kill her, now," Carmelita muttered.

"Can't," Said Bentley. "When you finally killed her, she somehow forced you to have an out-of-body experience. You both battled, paw to paw, in Purgatory. It's difficult to say… if she doesn't die, then we never technically find out just how serious this situation really is, but if we do kill her, then you might be taken off guard and she may have the upper hand of combat against you. I say we keep her unconscious for as long as possible."

"How do you plan that?" Carmelita asked.

"I'll let you know when I'm sure that it's the course of action I want to take," Bentley replied. Suddenly, Sly cut into the conversation by waving his paws.

Cooper's voice seemed to show some measure of frustration. "What in the world is going on, here? I've never seen you guys working together and now you guys seem to know every detail and I know nothing. Can someone get me out of here?"

Bentley held up a single finger. "I have an idea. You two stay here. As I recall, I had Carmelita electronically release the lock to this cell in a hallway adjacent to this one. I'll be right back, I've got to insert a virus into the computer terminal, then we'll all get out of here and regroup." With that, Bentley wheeled off, heading down the hallway. This left Sly and Carmelita together for a moment.

"So you came to rescue me, huh?" Cooper asked.

"Against my better judgment," She replied quickly. "But you were abducted. Having done nothing wrong that I am aware of," Carmelita said, looking over her shoulder before continuing, "I felt it was your turn to need Interpol Protection. Anyhow, I'm the only one who can put you behind bars. Perhaps I'm just stubborn that way; I don't know. What about you, ringtail? Are you hurting after losing that rooftop fight with this Donovan character?"

"Just my pride," Sly chuckled politely. "I'd love to finish my bout with him."

"Tough luck," Carmelita said. "His tail belongs to me and I plan to stomp it all over this bank before you get the chance." A small click was heard in the cell gate and Carmelita reached to the bars, pushing it to the side until the gate slid open on its tracks.

"Let's go. I have a wolf's tail to kick," She said.

"Not if I find him first," Sly replied.

"Neither of you will be hurting Donovan," Bentley replied upon his return. "He's a double agent and we need him to survive. We've got to find him then have him help Sly to steal something from The Sire, a guy who is running this show. Once we have the pendant of Will Power, we can get Donovan, Karla and scram. Then, back at the safe house, we can hatch a fresh plan, figure out what to do with Karla and then finish this job. Are you guys ready?" Bentley's rant caused both Sly and Carmelita to face-fault, blinking quickly.

"Actually, there are a lot of players on the field and that always complicates things," Said Carmelita. "We have to get this prisoner somewhere, so she doesn't wake up while we're fighting for our lives, for goodness sake. Let's lock her up somewhere."

"We can't," Bentley said. "She's a supernatural with the ability to teleport herself and small objects anywhere she likes. We have to keep her unconscious."

"How do you propose we keep her unconscious until this is all over?" Carmelita asked, gawking at the turtle.

"I know how I want to keep her out for a long period of time but until that happens," Bentley said, tapping his chin. Just then, he remembered Carmelita back at the safe house and grinned. "We give her a sleeping pill. That buys us a third of a day."

"Where is the safe house, Bentley?" Sly asked.

"Why should you take her?" Carmelita asked, narrowing her eyes.

Sly stepped through the open gate and scooped Karla up, so that the demure, white-furred body was resting over his right shoulder. "I should take her because I'm the fastest one here. I'll give the girl the sleep pills then I'll meet up with you guys, back in the field."

"You'll need to watch her for about an hour," Bentley warned. "Just to make sure that the pill has kicked in. I left the package of them next to my computer on my work bench. The future Carmelita is already asleep by now but she should have a half of a bottle of water sitting around the safe house, somewhere near herself. Find it and use that to get Miss Chintzy to swallow the pill. We're going after Loupe. I'll need you back here to help us obtain a trinket from a powerful lion that happens to be running the show, here. We can't defeat him without this pendant. Currently, it's still around his neck. Sly is the one who stole it the first time around."

With that, the tortoise handed Sly a Binoc-u-com which the raccoon placed into his pants pocket. He carried Karla's unconscious body down the hallway, leaving Bentley and Carmelita to figure out their next course of action. Obtaining his cane from the wall, across from his cell, Sly was as quick as he'd promised he'd be. He found a set of stairs leading to the rooftop then leapt off the top of the building, gracefully.

His action required serious skill. With a cane in one hand and an additional one hundred pounds over his right shoulder, he had to be one with the force of balance. Landing upon a telephone pole, he steadied himself first then leapt forth once more. His feet came into contact with the nearby hood of a car which crumpled beneath the weight.

He stepped off the car and began to walk through a series of back alleys to stay out of sight. He twirled his cane then inverted it, using the hook to pickpocket his own binoc-u-com from his own pocket. "I'm out of the bank, where is it," He said into the radio.

"I've implemented the normal homing beacon into your visor radio. You'll find it," Bentley replied over the radio. "Don't wake Carmelita, she needs the sleep."

"She's with you right?" Sly asked, partially confused.

"Carmelita from the future is at the safe house, sleeping on a sofa. Don't wake her, Sly. I mean it, she needs to sleep through the night," He explained. "All right, we're dealing with Guards, Bentley out." The connection ended. Sly slid his cane through his belt and used his free paw to hold the Binoc-u-com up to his eyes. Once he saw the familiar yellow marker in the visor, he began to head towards it.

The apartment building's back door was pried open, allowing him to step inside with ease. He shut the door behind himself and ascended the stairs to the top floor. Stepping into the apartment with the door that was ajar, Sly glanced around to get his bearings. A worn-looking, half-beaten Carmelita was sleeping on the sofa. She had dry blood on one of her ears and her clothes needed laundering.

At some point in the last hour or two, she'd managed to roll over so that she was facing away from the backrest of the sofa. Sly could see that she had circles beneath her eyes and her headfur was glossy in the dim illumination of the window above her. It was obvious that the poor thing needed a shower and a hot meal.

Sly sat Karla down on a loveseat then went for the sleeping pills on the nearby desk. He located the bottle of water that Carmelita had last used and brought it back to Karla's body. He leaned his cane up against a neighboring wall then sat down on the loveseat next to Chintzy. Using one paw, he gently pried her muzzle open while using his other to place three pills on her velvety pink tongue.

Next, he snatched the bottle of water that he'd placed between his knees, and put it up to her mouth. Careful not to pour too much water into her mouth, so as not to drown her, he then caressed her throat in a downward motion until she instinctively swallowed the water and pills. However, it caused her to stir.

Her eyes fluttered open and she gazed directly into Sly's own chocolate orbs. "What… happened?" She murmured softly, wiping a bit of water away from her muzzle with the backside of her left paw. "Where are we, now?" She asked, beginning to come to her senses. She placed her right paw against Sly's wrist, as if seeking to regain her equilibrium.

"You're our prisoner," Sly said with a shrug. It felt weird to say but it was the truth. "So don't try anything funny. I heard you have the power to teleport yourself, so if you even blink wrong, I'll have to knock your butt out," Sly warned.

"Hmm, you must be mistaken, Karla lied. "My powers are limited to teleporting objects, but not myself. I'm stuck here. You're the Master Thief, Sly Cooper, aren't you?" She asked.

"I didn't know I was famous," Sly replied. He had about an hour before the darn pills kicked in and now he felt bad because he didn't want to knock her out, for some reason. Hitting a pretty girl wasn't very easy, that was for certain. "Why do you ask?"

"You have a family pendant that you use for proposing to a future wife, correct?" Karla was quick to get right to the point. She knew that Sire wanted that large diamond but she didn't know why although she did have speculation on her own part. All she knew is that she wanted the pendant from Sly but now she wanted Sly, too.

"Well, yes," Cooper replied, blinking in confusion. He had no idea how she knew the diamond even existed. "Why do you ask?"

"Because," Karla said in a flirting voice, "If I was a lucky girl, I could get you to simply give it to me," She replied, sliding her right paw to his chest, as they sat together, there on the loveseat.

"Now why would I go and do a thing like that?" Sly chuckled awkwardly.

"Because I only agreed to help these antagonistic supernatural terrorists to get closer to you," She said. She only knew that the Diamond that Sire wished to obtain would make it possible for even a Super Natural Being to become fertile. "For some reason, you and your family heirloom give me the shivers," She told him. Before he could reply with another inquiry, she leaned forward and brushed her lips against his own soft tiers of velvet. The firm swells of her ample bust pressed against his firm, muscular chest and Sly found himself shocked into silence.

His eyes lowered, looking at where his muzzle connected with hers then he shuttered, feeling her tongue dart into his mouth, deepening the kiss with intense passion. Before Sly could react or break out of his instinctual moment of shock, she slid one leg over his knees and slipped into is lap. Her right paw maneuvered up to his neck, sifting upwards through the tousled gray locks of his hair, pushing his hat off. It fell to the now-empty loveseat cushion, adjacent to them and she began to playfully grind her hips against his own, causing him to freeze.

Her legs had easily encircled his waist while her left paw came to the side of his face, simply caressing and exploring the man she had yearned to flirt with for quite some time. Now all she needed was to seduce him, draw him into the depths of rapture and obtain the diamond pendant his family used to propose.

She shoved her feet into the backrest cushion but kept those milky, toned thighs wrapped tightly around his hips. The push caused them both to slide away from the loveseat until her back met the floor, keeping him flush to her so that he was now on top of her body. Sly didn't plan for this at all. Her forwardness continued to shock and confound him, rendering the raccoon inane for the moment. He was, quite simply, stunned beyond belief.

It wasn't that he was or was not aroused. She knew right where to touch and just now to tease and flirt to seize the attention of his body. However, Sly couldn't find it in himself to perform. He didn't have the desire to further this endeavor and did not wish to return the grind of his hips against her body. He simply sat up, staring down at her.

"What?" She asked. Karla's gaze bore up into his. Her deep, emerald eyes were adorned by the longest lashes. Her face was the softest, purest white and reminded the raccoon of a porcelain doll. She glanced over at Carmelita's ashen form on the sofa then said, "You love her, don't you. Look at her: eyes sunken in with deep circles. She looks as though she's been through hell. I don't know the girl but I'm willing to wager, with a scruffy face like that, she might just be trailer trash."

Cooper blinked his eyes, rapidly, "No, she's not. She's just been through a rough few days by the looks of things."

"Sly," Karla said, slipping her left paw down the back of his pants to playfully cup his masculine, muscular rump. His brawny flesh and silky fur was too tempting for her craving paws. Sly shook his head, clearing his senses. None of this felt right. It didn't feel like love and he equated such an act to actual, physical and metaphorical love.

"I can't, not with you. I don't even know you, how can I display affections for a woman I don't love?" Sly supplicated. Karla simply smiled, taking her right paw from behind his ears and reaching down to unbutton the top of her blouse. She then drew his face forward to smother his senses with the plump, perky bosom of her ample breast.

Chintzy licked her lips, imploring him, "And I beseech you, Sly Cooper: How can you resist me?"

It only took a moment for Sly to wiggle out from the canyon of fur and flesh, rapidly shaking his head as if he were drying his fur from the rain. He then took his paws and reached towards her bosom. Karla licked her lips in excitement but to her sudden dismay, Sly simply reached for her blouse, buttoning it shut.

"I'm sorry," He told her. "I don't even know you and beyond that, I'm already in love with someone else. This was… uh, nice and everything, but I'm sincerely not interested in a sexual relationship with you, miss."

"Monsieur Cooper, I've crushed on you for more than a simple evening," She explained. "The only reason I allowed myself to be involved in all of this is so that I could become your wife and bare your children," She explained. She didn't go into detail about how his family heirloom had something to do with the fertility ability but she did have some measure of genuineness in her eyes. Still, Sly Cooper wasn't interested.

"I'm already in love with someone whom I have neglected, over the last year. Right now, she probably hates my guts," Sly explained. "However, if there is even a remote possibility I can get Carmelita Fox back into a relationship with me, I'm going to try for it. She's the only face I could see when I thought for sure that I would die in the clutches of Doctor M."

Karla's heart was pounding and those sensitive, pert buds of flesh were clearly visible through the cloth of her blouse. "Mobius was a fool," She said, gazing up at the raccoon. "All he wanted was money. All Sire wanted from him was that diamond heirloom. God forbid he would have found it and bequeathed it to Sire. Something like that should be given as a gift to someone who loves you."

"Well, I don't think Carmelita loves me," Sly chuckled. "She's been angry with me since the day I left to follow up on a rumor that Clockwerk was being rebuilt. I couldn't stay with her, as that would endanger her and any attempt of a family that we would have tried to start. She just doesn't understand that I left her, last year, to ensure her safety."

"Because you saw your family slain, yes?" Karla gazed up with large, empathetic orbs of dazzling jade.

"I guess my story of revenge against Clockwerk reached more ears than I realized," Sly said, sitting the rest of the way up, once more. "What's your story?"

"It's long and convoluted," Karla said, sounding honest and completely harmless. She lay beneath him, reveling in the weight of his form that knelt over her. She lusted so very deeply for him. She yearned to feel their bodies writhing together in ecstasy but she had a feeling that, for some reason, she would have to take it slow with this man. Perhaps he was a virgin, or perhaps he was just a young Frenchman in love. She wasn't sure, just yet.

Her heart was still pounding from the anticipation of sex, which caused the sleeping pills to rush through her blood stream much more quickly. Her eyelids were now half-way open and a tired smile touched her maw. "You know, I can't give up on a guy like you," She said playfully. "You manage to wear out a girl like me without even hot, hard love making. I just… wish I," She was almost dozing off right there in mid sentence, "…wasn't involved with… the guy who… ordered Clockwerk to steal that diamond in the first place, centuries ago."

"Pardon?" Sly blinked once more, almost glaring at her but she was unable to notice the look on his face. Now she was fighting for consciousness. "What do you mean?" The raccoon demanded.

"Oh you know," She mumbled. Sly leaned down so that his ear was directly in front of her mouth as she spoke. "He and Steven employed Clockwerk as a thief to steal parts necessary to somehow bring some spirit into the physical world, but those parts are… you know, scattered in museums throughout the world, Monsieur. Clockwerk wasn't a good enough thief to obtain those parts himself, and so Sire ordered Clockwerk to steal a diamond from the Cooper Family but they stole it back; and out of anger, Clockwerk terrorized the Cooper Clan for ages, trying to steal their books and kill their family members to learn where their vault was." She was mumbling so very slightly that Sly had to constantly pat her on the side of the face to keep her talking for as long as he could manage.

She continued, slurring her speech. "And Clockwerk became consumed by hate but all Sire asked of him was to get a diamond so they could use it's amazing fertility powers to impregnate a Super Natural with the offspring of a Master Thief, in order to obtain these …uh…" She trailed off, leaving Sly to prompt her into conversation. It was a double-sided sword; had she not been on the sleeping agent, she probably wouldn't have told him anything but now she was dozing off before she could finish her explanation.

"Artifacts from museums throughout the world?" Sly asked, remembering the last time she went through this spiel, seconds earlier.

"Yeah, those, and then the Supernatural Master-Thief child would do as Sire says and… get the stuff and… then he could use the stuff to raise this spirit from the dead, but I don't know why," she whispered softly.

"So these artifacts, when combined, have the power to raise some sort of powerful spirit from the dead, then what?" Sly prodded. She was falling into a deep sleep and becoming far less lucid.

"We obtained a drop of your blood, I bet you'll be just as cute as yourself," She mumbled, changing the subject yet bordering on the realm of incoherency. Sly quirked a brow then patted her cheek again.

"So, these artifacts, when combined, have the power to raise an evil spirit from the dead or something?" Cooper asked, using a thumb to open one of her eyelids. The sleeping agent was a bit more powerful than he realized. Had he known, he'd have given her only one or two but he was too naïve to realize that having her turned on and her heart racing would have caused it to kick in sooner.

Another series of soft patting against her muzzle helped her to continue speaking. "Manipulate the evil spirit to become powerful, but I don't know where the evil spirit is," She said. Little did Sly know that it was attached to Karla's soul; perhaps she, herself, had no knowledge of this, either. All this time, the reason Sire kept Karla Chintzy around was because she was a living reincarnation of a dark force, possessed by the evil spirit that Sire wished to own. There were still gray areas that Sly didn't fully understand but one thing was now known… Sire was the man who ordered Clockwerk to terrorize his family for generations… and worse yet, to kill his family and take the Thievius Raccoonus in an attempt to find the Cooper Vault.

All this time, The Sire was the cause of Sly Cooper's short childhood. All this time, Sly's relationship with his parents was through genealogy and stories of legacy. All this time, The Sire was the reason for Sly's checkered, dramatic past.

For that reason alone, this Sire guy had to pay. Sly buttoned the top button of her blouse, so that it was all nice, neat and matched properly. He then took the woman by the ankles and turned her around. Sly hefted her body up onto the loveseat so that her legs dangled over one side, then he snatched up his cane and approached Carmelita. He knelt down besides the slumbering vixen and kissed her forehead.

"Feel better," he whispered then went for the door. He would have gone out through the window but didn't want to leave it open or expose Carmelita to the night air. Once outside, he called Bentley on the radio. "Hey, Bent. That Karla chick is a total floozy, man. But for some reason, I feel bad for her. I don't know why or what it is… but I did learn something about her employers. I'll explain when I get there. How's it coming with this Donovan guy?"

Bentley's visual popped up on the binoc-u-com once he answered the communicator. "Carmelita is beating him senseless so that he'll actually hear us out. It's more of a burden than I initially thought. Did you learn anything else?"

Sly shrugged, even though the Binoc-u-com couldn't really distinguish the gesture properly. "She said something about my blood making me as cute as myself, but I got this out of her as the sleeping pill was kicking in, she might have just been talking incoherently."

"It could be a reference to your future Clone that Carmelita mentioned," Bentley replied.

"Pardon?" Cooper looked dubious.

"I'll let you know when I have more information. That's a mission objective for tomorrow afternoon, anyhow. Get back to the bank and we'll get this locket of willpower or … whatever it's called… from this Sire guy. It's the only way to beat him and he's got the only pendent."

"Taking jewelry from the bad guys is what I do best," Sly said, closing the channel. He double-timed his efforts, heading back to the bank. "Good lord, that girl was all over me; I feel like I need a shower to wash off the dirt," he said to himself, jogging back towards the bank building.

A/N: And may I just add one little thing? People who are critical of most of my work always seem to praise the stories which are my absolute least popular… I somehow doubt that JK Rowling would sell very many Harry Potter books if he didn't win, resorted to killing Ron and had a true, realistic emotional breakdown over Hermione. So, while I appreciate the few people that dislike this story, hey: have an honest respect for O-K-Scott and the people who dispise Carme and Sly romance. As far as Scott? He's a good guy, just misunderstood by a lot of the people that adore Sly and Carmelita romance. As far as Scott is concerned, I consider him a friend, even though I've not kept in contact with him as of late. Oh, and people that dislike where I'm going with this story… hey, I'm not writing it for you guys. I'm writing it for me, my wife, and the people who may potentially purchase my future manuscripts when it's time to finish and publish them. You're looking for "Written by: Kenneth Herbert Weaver Junior" on the front, those'll be the ones. :)

No, I'm not trying to be egotistical; I'm just trying to joke around, playfully.

Okay, I'll shut up now :D

-Kitsy

NEXT…

CHAPTER 23: "Cooper And …Cooper"