Okay, here we are again! I have to say, this story was incredibly fun to write, if only for the entertainment value. Not much else to say here, 'cept I started my second year of college today, so I might have trouble remembering to update unless I get reviews. Hinthint.

Onward!

After a mostly sleepless night (I hated jetlag) I was awoken by loud, impertinent knocking on my door.

"Rise and shine, Jinx!"

I groaned, too exhausted to correct the infuriating raccoon and pried myself out of bed with muscles that ached from being yanked from the balcony of a second story and falling to the pavement below.

I hadn't bothered to change out of my clothes so they were wrinkled beyond recognition. I wasn't a peaceful sleeper. I tried to tuck my unruly hair back into its braid and tugged on my shoes to go answer the door.

Cooper looked just as frumpy as I did, and twice as moody as he shoved a bag into my hands. I peered inside and found that it was full of brown powder. I ran a hand through it and it felt like powdered sugar. I examined my hand afterwards and found that my fur had gone from off-white to tawny. I tried to rub the dust off on my jeans, but it stayed where it was.

"What is this stuff?" I asked, still trying to work my tongue from where it was stuck to the top of my mouth.

"Your disguise," he informed me tartly, "It'll come out in a couple of washes and you're a little too easy to recognize if they start airing your picture on TV. Go change clothes and get dirty, come outside when you're done." He walked away without another word and I stuck my tongue out at his back.

I looked at the sky and saw it was the cold, grey color that came before the sun actually decided to make an appearance. The birds weren't even awake yet.

Scowling, I slammed the door to my room and stomped into the bathroom to stand in the tub before tossing my dirty clothes in a corner and upending the bag over my head.

I'd certainly had smarter ideas in my life.

I hacked the dust out of my lungs once I was sure I hadn't missed any white spots. After I shook off the excess dust and stepped out of the shower, I turned on the faucet and rinsed the remains of the powder down the drain.

"Destroy the evidence." I quipped to myself, tugging my spare outfit over my head, a blue tank top and grey cargo pants. I looked into the mirror and flinched at the image of a tawny, brown haired teen staring back at me. I was so different.

Shuddering in slight revulsion, I shoved all of my things into my backpack, making sure to leave nothing behind. I stepped out into the parking lot and looked around for Cooper. I tried to stifle my laugh when I saw him dozing off on a bench outside my room.

He heard me and glared, muttering to himself as he gestured for me to follow him.

His hair stuck out at odd angles, the worst case of bed-hair I had ever seen in my life and his eyes were bloodshot, giving him more the appearance of a college freshman who had just pulled an all-nighter than a master thief.

He was wearing a grey short-sleeve, button-down shirt open over a white sleeveless tee and blue jeans. He looked so… ordinary, almost like a completely different person without his mask, blue cap, and cane.

Cooper climbed into the passenger seat of the van while I was once again banished to the back, this time with Bentley as company.

I really hadn't had much of a problem with the turtle until I saw him standing there with scissors and a razor blade, even though he'd called my eyes freaky.

"Sit." He ordered.

"How about no?" I started backing away from the doors slowly. I stopped dead in my tracks when Cooper turned from where he was slumped in his seat to glare at me with one, blood shot eye, a glare that promised that if he had to run me down I would live to regret it very, very much.

I swallowed my fear and climbed into the back of the van, closing the doors behind me and still keeping as much distance between me the turtle as possible. Really, who would have thought that a reptile two thirds my size could look so intimidating?

"What exactly are you planning to do with those?" I demanded with a glare at the scissors.

Bentley advanced slowly, now that I was effectively cowed by his partner's morning attitude, "You'll need a different haircut, even with the color to keep people from recognizing you."

I mulled this over, gnawing on the inside of my lower lip, then sighed. I turned my back on the turtle, undoing my braid and spreading my hair over my shoulders. "I was contemplating cutting my hair short anyways."

"Don't you want us to get caught?" Cooper seemed surprised that I was being so cooperative. He also seemed to have found a blanket and now sulked under it, hiding from the light as the sun crested over the buildings and shone through a small break in the day's clouds.

I would have glared at him if scissors were not quite so close to the back of my head, "Yes, but I want you to get caught on my terms."

"That's not very encouraging," Bentley sounded exasperated. In a lower tone, he whispered to me, "Don't worry, Sly's always like this in the mornings. Raccoons are nocturnal after all. He'll be fine once we get some food in him."

I chanced a glance at Bentley over my shoulder. He was completely focused on his task as he brushed through the wild tangles that inhabited my hair, pushing his glasses farther up on his nose whenever they slipped.

He, too, looked normal without his safari-like hat and his crossbow strapped to his back. He acted normal too, for all he was allegedly a super-genius, if a bit paranoid.

Why had he reassured me like that?

"Are you sure you know what you're doing?" I asked as he brought out the scissors, pushing the issue from my mind.

"It's not all that complicated. Keep your eyes ahead."

I rolled my eyes and faced forward again, hearing and feeling the snip of scissors as Bentley started to trim this and that. I sighed and tried to distract myself by not thinking about how long it was going to take to grow out my hair again.

I heard the door open and felt the van shift under me, then the door closed.

"Hey, Murray." I called up.

"Greetings, citizen! 'The Murray' has arrived with nourishment!" I heard the crinkle of a plastic sack.

The absolute next thing to reach my ears was the sound of Cooper jumping Murray, wrestling for a bit until he finally stole the sack, then retreating back into his cocoon once he had his food.

"Does he always do that?" I whispered to Bentley.

"If you mean Sly acting like breakfast is the last thing he will ever eat, then yes. If you mean Murray referring to himself in the third person, the answer is still yes."

"Ah."

A cheese Danish, still in the wrapper, and a small bottle of fruit juice were tossed into my lap. I blinked, said thanks to the car in general and set into my breakfast, careful not to move too much after Bentley almost cut my ear.

In the next two hours my head got significantly lighter. After an hour and a half of snipping, Bentley brought out the razor blade, which I tried not to focus too much on. When he was finished, I peeked at myself in Murray's rearview mirror, surprised to find myself pleased with the results.

My hair was cut boyishly short and very spiked from the turtle's work with the razor.

"Nice," I said, grudgingly, looking at it from another angle.

For a while the ride was silent. Murray was driving, Cooper switched places with Bentley so he could sprawl out in the back and the turtle was intently working on something on his laptop.

For a while, I tried to read, but that's probably not the best thing to try when one is susceptible to motion sickness.

Cooper elbowed me some time later, "What's wrong with you?" He was slightly more awake now and a little less moody because the sun had chosen to hide behind clouds for the day.

"Nothing." I mumbled, my head between my knees, trying to make the world stop spinning, eyes squeezed shut. There was silence for a bit, then I heard Cooper and Bentley mumbling about something I didn't bother to pay attention to.

"Hey, Jinx."

"Don't call me Jinx." I said automatically, looking up just in time to catch a can Cooper had thrown at me. I stared at the green aluminum in surprise, "Ginger ale?" That was-

I was taken aback when Cooper gave a grin, "Murray gets car sick sometimes. That usually helps."

I stared at the can for a moment then shrugged, cracking it open. It wasn't like there was any danger of there being anything in it.

Fifteen minutes later, I started feeling lightheaded and sleepy. I looked at the empty can in my hand, then glared at Cooper, "Alright, how'd you do it?"

His eyes widened in an innocent stare, cementing his guilt, "Do what?"

I glared, throwing the can at his head weakly, "Don't play dumb."

He caught it, giving a smirk and pointing to the open tab, "A clear, dissolvable seal on the mouth. Bentley came up with it."

"It's a good way to clear out guards," the turtle piped up.

My eyes were starting to close all on their own. "Alright, fine, but your pillow is forfeit." I grabbed it and pulled it close before my eyes shut for good.

I awoke slowly, my head fuzzy.

I'm not sure how long I lay there, getting my thoughts back together, but the amount of time wasn't short. I finally gathered the energy to sit up and look around.

I was on the ground floor of a dilapidated apartment. The wallpaper was peeling and missing in several places and the couch I was sitting on smelled weird, as did the rest of the apartment. Three pallets were made up on the floor, a suitcase beside each; I found my own backpack next to the couch.

There was a rickety looking table and four chairs in one corner, stairs leading up on the opposite wall, and a window in the remaining corner, which revealed to me that it was night time.

I got up and walked over to the window, vainly attempting to flatten my now-short hair. Once I made it to the window and saw what lay on the horizon, I could only stare blankly.

It was the Eiffel Tower. I was really in Paris.

I clamped down, hard, on the teenage girl urges that demanded I freak out about this. Instead I turned to the stairs, where I could hear the whirr of electronics and hushed voices, and climbed them.

I soon realized that I had walked into a techno geek's domain. There were four computer monitors, three of which were hooked up to weird, color coded digital antennae, one blue, one green, and one pink. Two of those monitors were off; a third displaying the city streets, Bentley was behind the fourth if the back of the blue shell jutting out behind it was any indication.

Murray was sitting at a table in front of three large windows, devouring a lunch meat sandwich and dripping mustard over what looked to be complex blue prints. He was the first to notice me, "Greetings, fair maiden!"

I gave him a weird look, "I'm not sure whether that was an insult or a compliment."

A thud came from the general direction of the fourth monitor as well as what could easily have been a muffled swear. Bentley retreated from behind the monitor, setting a grey antenna next to it and rubbing his head, "Well, I see you're awake."

"Noo…" I leaned against the wall, leveling a stare at him, "I'm sleepwalking."

"Thank God, maybe I will be able to get something done." He muttered, disappearing behind the monitor again to retrieve a wrench.

I blinked stupidly, "Bentley?"

"Hmm?" He placed his wrench by the blueprints and now sat in front of a laptop.

"Were you just sarcastic?"

He deadpanned, "Believe it or not, I do have the mental capacity to be witty and beautiful at the same time."

I couldn't help chuckling a bit as I pulled up a chair and sat next to him, "You know, you're not so bad. Where's Cooper?"

"Ask him yourself." Bentley turned the computer toward me. I saw the streets of Paris from high above, a roof probably. The camera turned to face what looked to be a satellite dish and a hand came from the lower right hand corner and typed a numerical code into the satellite's control panel.

I pushed the 'Mic On' button and spoke into the speaker in the sweetest voice I could manage, "Oh, Cooper… Remind me when you get back that I owe you a slap upside the head."

His voice filtered back to me from the speakers, "Good morning to you too, Jinx."

"Don't call me Jinx." I replied automatically, then I blinked for what seemed to be the millionth time, "Is it morning?"

"3: 36 A.M."

"I slept for fourteen hours!"

"Yup, thought I was going to have to kiss you to wake you up."

Many exaggerated gagging noises later, Bentley pushed me out of the way so he could talk to Sly, "Nice work with the satellites, but I need you to get into Dimitri's actual operation. You should be able to sneak in through that old wine cellar."

I looked over at Murray as he got up and went out the door, raising an eyebrow. As soon as Bentley got off the mic, I turned back to him, "Where'd Murray go?"

"He went to go help Sly. The wine cellar they're sneaking into is heavily guarded. They'll need to fight their way in."

I frowned at that, "So who are you guys robbing tonight?"

"No one." Bentley didn't even look up from the laptop, "We're just gathering information. It's not as simple as just walking into a place and walking out. We have to figure out guard patrols, the opportune moment, where our target even is, not to mention-"

"Okay, okay, I get it!" I rolled my eyes, "So who will you eventually be stealing what from?"

In just a few keystrokes Bentley had a picture of a purple salamander up on the screen, "Dimitri, the Klaww gang's local operative. He forges old masterpieces, deals spice, and does business out of a large nightclub he owns on the west side. He has the Clockwerk Tailfeathers, though we don't know what he's using them for yet."

That made my head spin. Was it alright to steal from criminals who had only acquired what was being stolen through illegal means in the first place?

"So, why are you guys so desperate to get the Clockwerk Parts? What's the big deal?"

Bentley gave me a look a scholar would give to the village idiot, "Do you know who Clockwerk was?"

I shrugged and shook my head.

Bentley sighed, "Clockwerk was an owl consumed with hate for the Sly's family. He replaced his body with machinery in order to live long enough to completely wipe out the Coopers. Every single one of Sly's ancestors was killed by Clockwerk eventually. When Sly was eight, Clockwerk caught up with his family. His dad hid him in a closet and Sly peeked out just in time to see his father killed right in front of him."

It took a lot of effort to correlate the thought of the happy-go-lucky raccoon I'd met to someone who'd witnessed his father murdered at a young age.

"The orphanage Sly ended up in was where he, Murray, and I met. Two years ago we thought we'd wiped Clockwerk out when Sly defeated him over a volcano and Clockwerk fell to the lava in pieces. We were wrong; somehow the individual parts resisted corrosion. The 'scholars' at the Natural History Museum thought it was harmless too, so they didn't even properly examine it." Bentley paused in his story to give Sly a piece of advice about the large guards with flashlights before going back to his story, "We need to destroy all of the pieces individually. Only then can we be sure Clockwerk is truly gone."

I wasn't sure what to think. If I were to call in Interpol, they'd arrest the Cooper gang, but would they believe their story about Clockwerk? If it were true and the authorities didn't believe it… then what?

The phrase, 'It takes a thief to catch a thief,' ran unbidden through my mind.

"Ah, Sly's made it inside," Bentley turned the mic on, "Go over to those windows Sly, we'll need some recon photos."

As it turned out, Dimitri had been using the Clockwerk Tailfeathers to print counterfeit money. I couldn't really blame the Cooper gang for going after a guy like that. Counterfeiting could cause major problems and if it was done well it could be ages before it was discovered, and when it was, the economy had the potential to plummet to the ground practically overnight.

Unfortunately, I wasn't exactly kept in the loop. The combination of jet lag and the time I'd been tranquilized kept me up during the day, when everyone but Murray was asleep, and I was completely out at night, despite the fact that the first night I'd been completely awake while Cooper was doing reconnaissance.

The only other time I'd woken up in the night it was because one of Bentley's experimental trigger bombs had gone awry and even then I was unable to stay awake long enough to get any kind of information. I'd been playing video games with Murray, but he wasn't a very good source of intel.

It was the third night in Paris when Cooper shook me awake.

"C'mon," he said as I yawned and sat up, "The heist is tonight. We need to get out of the country as soon as it's complete."

"It's tonight?" I rubbed my eyes, "Some warning would have been nice." I stood and started rolling up my blanket.

He tweaked my nose before I could stop him, "So you could call Interpol while we were sleeping? Not a chance."

"Hey now," I yawned again, cutting myself off, "Give me some credit. I wouldn't be getting in the way of shutting down a counterfeit operation that could cripple an economy." I zipped up my backpack after shoving everything inside and Cooper grabbed it from me, swinging it up on his shoulder.

"How noble. I have underestimated you indeed."

I stuck my tongue out at him, ignoring his chuckles as we went out to the van and I climbed in the back. Bentley and Murray were already in the van, the former in back with me. He had apparently moved his surveillance system into the van because we wouldn't be returning to the Safehouse.

"Here's the plan," He said to me as Cooper climbed in the front and Murray started the car, "You stay in the van while we get the Tailfeathers. If any guards or police come near the van, stay out of sight of the windows and be absolutely still and quiet. If you start getting towed, honk the horn. We won't be too far away."

I nodded mid-yawn, only half listening. I had already unrolled my blanket and propped my backpack up against the side of the van to be used as a pillow.

Cooper rolled his eyes in my general direction, "Bentley, I don't think she'd wake up if the van exploded."

"Would too…"

"Would not. Go back to sleep."

I woke up when the entire van rumbled slightly, dislodging a baseball bat from only God knows where and dropping it directly onto my head.

I flailed in pain and surprise before realizing what had happened and voicing a few choice words, shoving the bat away. I was warm and toasty for all of five seconds before a voice came over the bug box.

"Yo, yo, my peeps! The fuzz, they is bustin' in the joint. Make the evidence past-tense my brothers; send the coppers after those lousy no-good party-crashing cracker-boxes, capice? Peace out!"

It took me a full twenty seconds to translate what had just been said into words I could comprehend.

Apparently the police had shown up and Cooper, Bentley, and Murray were on the run, which meant they'd probably succeeded in getting the Tailfeathers. They'd be headed this way, but the guards of the night club didn't seem the type to let thieves get away without some sort of fight.

I jumped into the driver's seat and turned the keys in the ignition where Murray had left them. Satisfied that the engine was warming up, I snatched the baseball bat from where I had pushed it aside, just in case, and positioned myself at the back of the van, peeking through the back windows.

I didn't have to wait long, I saw the gang in less than a minute, dodging blasts from Dimitri's guards. Bentley was in the lead, Murray behind him carrying three large metal things that I assumed to be the Tailfeathers and Cooper was behind them, taunting the nearest guard to draw fire away from his comrades.

I threw open the back doors, "Hurry up, you guys! The cops are on the way!"

I jumped down to let Murray throw the Tailfeathers in the back and Bentley into the passenger's seat before he jumped behind the wheel. Seeing that he seemed a bit more competent than the others, I threw the baseball bat at the closest guard, scoring a direct hit and distracting him long enough for Cooper to leap in the back.

I jumped back in and Murray hit the gas almost before I had the doors closed.

There were five minutes of dead silence in that car, aside from most everyone panting and catching their breaths before Cooper began to chuckle, then to laugh. Bentley and Murray joined him shortly.

"I missed the joke," I grumbled, extracting my backpack from under the Tailfeathers and praying that nothing had been broken.

The raccoon surprised me by throwing an arm around my neck, "I can't believe you helped us escape! The cops would have gotten us any second!"

I felt my face heat up, "I did not help you escape! I threw a baseball bat at someone who was shooting in my general direction! It was completely self defense! Adrenaline clouds your judgment."

He chuckled again, "Sure, sure. Hey, Bentley?"

"Yes, Sly?"

"What's that thing called when a hostage or captive gets emotionally attached to their captor and begins to care about them? I think is starts with an 'S'."

"Stockholm Syndrome."

"Yeah, that's it!"

I growled and shoved him away, "I do not have Stockholm Syndrome! I am not emotionally attached to any of you!"

"Hey, Bentley?"

"Yes, Sly?"

"What's that other thing? You know, the one where-"

"Denial."

I beat my head repeatedly against the side of the van.

There we go, finally getting past the beginning and headed for the good part! Always interested to hear what you think, so please review and God Bless!