Author's Note: Hehe, immediate continuation. I like this better than the 1st part just cuz its more romantic. I fucked up the title of the last one, it was supposed to be Chapter 9 not 10.

Disclaimer: I don't own the Teen Titans or the ROM.

Chapter 10 - Kinyago

Kinyago? The art thief? Raven's mind began to reel. Kinyago was an infamous art thief, best known for playing practical jokes on the museums and private collections he robbed. He occasionally switched painting from one museum to another, stealing a piece from the National Art Gallery one night, another from the Metropolitan Museum the next and on the third each piece could be found at the other. He was also known for his rat-pack technique, once he had stolen Vermeer's famous View from the Delft from a private collection and replaced it with a child's painting of windmills, mocking the artist Dutch origins. Despite his numerous legendary scores, the police have had no clue to who he might be. Furthermore, He always returned whatever he stole, the newspapers dubbing him Kinyago: The Good Thief. Kinyago being the Swahili word for Joker.

Kinyago felt her sharp intake of breath and smiled in his mask. They both remained silent and heard receding footsteps in the other room. He continued to whisper in her ear.

"So I take it you've heard of me?"

"You're the art thief…" she said in a whisper, the magnitude of the situation still had her shocked. He wouldn't hurt me; he's never hurt anyone in the past.

"That's right beautiful," his hand around her waist receded to his utility belt, "And you have gotten in my way." Raven flinched as he brought back his hand and caught her wrist with a handcuff. He quickly spun her around to face him and attached the other end to her other wrist. He brought her out from the darkness of the Spirit Room and into the dimly lit exhibition hall.

"You've been quite a good girl, nice and cooperative." He sat her down on the floor and took out another set of cuffs, attaching them to the ones around her wrists. Then somehow, he managed to lift her off her feet and wing the arms underneath her so she was cuffed from behind and attached the other open end of the cuffs to the leg of a display case. She saw his figure crouch on his heels in front of her, well out of reach for her to kick.

He was of medium build, not exactly muscled, but the strength was there. He was dressed in all black save for his utility belt which was grey. His mask was black also, but instead of holes for eyes, there was white gossamer concealing them.

"You're not going to get away with this you know."

"Oh? And who's gunna stop me? You?" He chuckled a bit, "Relay will you? I already told you, I'm not going to hurt you." Something in his voice made her trust him, but she still wanted blood.

"I don't deal with thieves," she bit hack venomously.

Kinyago chuckled and replied, "What do you think you're doing right now, gorgeous?" He crept towards her, she tried to swiftly kick him but he caught both her legs and chuckled. She looked down in horror as she saw her skirt beginning to ride up her thigh, his gloved hand making its way up her leg. Then, unexpectedly, he pulled the hem of her skirt down back to her knees. She felt his invisible eyes on her face, knowing she must have had a look of relief and surprise.

Then he got up and went into a display case that had been smashed open previously. She watched as his hand went in and he brought out a necklace, she recognized immediately, a menat. A menat, the Egyptian symbol for the goddess Hathor, the drunken goddess of fun, pleasure and love. It was a beaded necklace, a crescent moon at the front and a counterweight that looked like an upside-down keyhole in the back. He walked back to her and brought the necklace to her neck and craned his head back, as if he were her husband making her try out jewellery.

"The lapis lazuli really brings out your eyes." Is he flirting with me? He has the balls to break into my museum and flirt with me?

Then he pulled back and slipped the necklace into a pouch in his belt.

"Do you really think that I am just going to sit here and watch you rob my museum?" He chuckled again, something about his voice reminded her of someone, she wasn't quite sure who.

He stood and said, "I already have," and began to walk away.

"Wait!" she called to him, not sure why. She saw his figure over her head, leaning his side against the side of the display case she was attached to.

"Why?"

"You can't just leave me here?"

"I believe I was just about to." Her mind worked fast, trying to think of something so she could learn more about him other than his build and obvious flirty nature.

"Th-the ground is cold." The ground is cold? You're being held hostage by a famous art thief and the best you can come up with is 'the ground is cold'? She heard him chuckle once again.

"I don't find this amusing." She was grateful that he was behind her and couldn't see the blush in her face from her stupidity. She heard him walk away and not come back. She sighed in defeat when suddenly, from the other side, she felt strong hands lift her waist and slip a pillow underneath her bum. It was the pillows they used to cushion some of the more delicate pieces. She turned her head and came inches away from his face. His mask was now rolled up to just below his nose. Suddenly, he forcefully pressed his lips against her in a quick, heated kiss.

Then he pulled back, rolled down his mask again and murmured, "Bye beautiful," and walked away. Raven made sure he was completely gone before she screamed at the top of her lungs and struggled against the hand cuffs, kicking and jerking. She desperately tried slip out of the cuffs but it was no use. She silently curse herself, she cursed the thieves, she cursed for staying up late, she cursed for demanding that the display cases be bolted to the ground. Finally she cursed Kinyago and his kiss.

Victor awoke on the floor next to the candy machine. His head throbbed in pain, his hand feeling a large bump in the back of his head. O shit, he thought groggily trying to get up. He saw double and tried to shake it. When the dizziness receded, he remembered the exhibit and sprinted back to the communications control room.

The door was still locked and he fumbled with his keys trying to find the right one. Finding the proper key he ran inside, his eyes widened and he hit his palm against his forehead. He quickly sat down and typed in an alert to the police, his eyes never leaving the camera monitor. O fuck!

A/N: Thieves are fucking sexy man.