Hi, everyone! Posting this a little early because I have school and work all day today and I might as well update because there's a significant chance that I'll burn my Spanish classroom to the ground and wind up in prison anyway. Some quick housekeeping before we get started, though:

I've been getting a lot of the same questions on the blog, in reviews, over private messaging, etc... I've answered most of them before, but just to make things abundantly clear once and for all:

-I update every other Tuesday.
-There will be fifteen chapters and a short epilogue.
-I've already finished writing the story, so you won't have to worry about any delays. Seriously, if a chapter isn't uploaded by Wednesday (Central Time), you have reason to be concerned for my good health.
-I fully intend to write another story for Sly 5, provided it's handled as well as Sly 4 was.

I'm happy to answer any questions (provided they have some context with the stories/games and aren't spoilery), but please check to make sure I haven't already answered them before you ask. I don't really mind, but it gets repetitive. With that out of the way, on with the chapter!

I blinked at the empty fence, then looked at the revolver in my hand, then back at the fence.

Tennessee had wanted to start me off with something small so I could get used to aiming and kickback. Also he looked like he'd rather throw himself off the cliff behind the Safehouse than let me anywhere near his cane.

For once, that was probably an unfounded worry.

"Uh," I looked at the cans at the base of the fence, "Beginner's luck?" Because I was good at shooting and how did that make any sense?

"You sure you never done this before?" Kid asked skeptically, before we both jumped at the sounds of gunshots that hadn't come from my gun.

"Those weren't from the direction of the saloon, so it can't be Sly and Bentley," I said.

"Well," Tennessee took his gun back, "Why don't we go see what it is?"

He was heading off down the rails before I could even process that. Resigning myself to the fact that I was definitely about to get grounded again, I took off after him.

My rail-sliding was as good as it ever was, which is to say 'not very'. Still, it got the job done and I caught up to Tennessee, who was perched atop a ramshackle building in front of the Safehouse.

"Your rail-slidin' could use some work."

I didn't waste time giving him a glare. I pulled out my binocucom instead, relinquishing half of it to him so he could see as well, and pointed it in the direction we'd heard the gunshots.

I was not expecting what I saw.

"Is that Kristian?" I squeaked, looking at the cougar who was tussling with two longhorns, presumably having lost both his gun and his tonfa or having not had time to draw a weapon, as he was fighting barehanded.

"Sweet jumping jackrabbits!" Bentley must have gotten back to the Safehouse at some point, since he had clearly been at his laptop to monitor my binocucom, "What is he doing here?"

"Y'all know him?!" Tennessee asked, pulling back so he could give both the binocucom and me a surprised look.

"I'm afraid so," Bentley replied, "Something is very wrong here. But all quantum physics aside, we have to help him! You two are closest- I'll grab Sly and Murray, and we'll meet you with the van. Just get going!"

"Oh Kristian is going to be pissed about being a damsel in distress," I muttered under my breath as Tennessee and I took off across the powerlines.

Kid Cooper, meanwhile, was concerned with an entirely different side of things. "Kidnappin'! That Toothpick is lower than a snake in a ditch."

I was running through all the old west clichés I could think of in my head, so we could hopefully have some kind of idea what to expect, but it was the one cliché I didn't think of that we were confronted with after a short run though a disused mineshaft.

A stagecoach shot past down a steep path and a glance at a nearby sign showed the bridge was out.

"Oh, son of a-"

"We gotta catch up to that stagecoach!" Tennessee shouted. He grabbed my wrist and tugged me after him, towards- "Follow me, Miss Kaia!"

Broken train tracks!?

Over the last couple of years, I'd developed a sort of all-or-nothing attitude towards life, and that was the only thing that gave me the courage to jump on the rails after Tennesee.

Fortunately, Tennessee had a decent start on me, so I was able to watch what he did, where he jumped and use that information not to plummet to my death or be electrified. By the time I skidded to a stop behind him, he was using his gun to clear the path for the stagecoach as best he could from a distance.

I looked ahead, at where the bridge was. It was way too close. There's was barely enough time for Kid to clear the platform before we had to hop onto the next set of rails, trying always to stay a bit ahead of the coach.

"This isn't going to work!" I panted, as Tennessee reloaded.

"If you got a better plan, I'm all ears!"

I looked back at the train tracks, the coach, and the bridge. All Tennessee could really do was delay the crash, he couldn't rebuild a bridge with his gun and there wasn't enough time for the stagecoach to slow down on its own.

So, we either had to stop the stagecoach, something that didn't seem possible if the way the jackrabbit in the driver's seat was freaking out was any indication, or...

On the next set of rails, I didn't slow down to jump off when Tennessee did. Instead, I crouched to build up speed, biting my lip, "Kid, cover me!"

"What in tarnation-!"

I jumped at the very last possible second, sending myself over the fence and timing it so perfectly I surprised myself.

Hitting the stagecoach hard, I wheezed even as I looped a hand around the frame and tumbled inside.

"Kaia!?" Kristian had definitely seen better days. He had a split lip, one of his eyes was swollen shut, and he was bound so tightly I could actually see the ropes cutting into the skin under his thick fur.

"Hey," I breathed, reaching past where my baton hung on my belt to grab the emergency knife I kept, "We're going to have to cut this ride short."

The ropes were thick and the knots were tight. That, coupled with the sound of explosions and the mental countdown to the destroyed bridge my brain was providing me with made cutting Kristian free feel impossible.

"We're running out of time, you need to get out of here," Kristian hissed, and I knew it wasn't because he had any particular fondness for me and was more because he honestly thought we'd both die if I stayed and it just made more sense to him for at least one of us to live.

I ignored him easily, hearing an explosion that was way too close just as I cut the last rope on his feet. I only managed to get through one of the ropes binding his arms before I heard wood under the wheels of the coach. The rest of the ropes would have to wait.

Shoving him towards the window, not having time to figure out how the door was supposed to work, I shouted, "Go!"

I saw him hit the dirt outside in a rough tumble just as the coach went over the edge.

There was a split second where the only thing running through my mind, even as I lunged for the open frame, was 'I'mdeadI'mdeadI'mdeadI'vediedI'mdead'.

I got my arms free before I felt the distinct tug of gravity and impending doom. Apparently, that was enough.

The coach went over, but I didn't go with it because there was a flash of orange and brown and a strong grip on my arm and around my ribs, tugging me free.

My legs were dangling in open air, but I was holding onto someone who was pulling me up and I wasn't going to die.

"Easy there, darlin'. I gotcha."

I may have been digging my fingers a little too hard into Tennessee's back and neck, but I didn't dare loosen my grip until I was sitting on solid ground.

"Who are you?" Kristian was on his feet, having apparently wriggled his way free of the ropes and skipped the whole 'gratitude' phase of having his life saved.

Groaning, I buried my face in my hands and tried to stop shaking, "Kristian, be nice."

"Kaia!"

I looked up at the call and saw Sly, Bentley, and Murray on the cliff nearby. It had been Sly who shouted and it took my adrenaline-rattled brain a second to realize the expression on his face was concern. Lifting a hand, I flashed him an 'ok' symbol with my fingers.

His entire body seemed to slump with relief until Toothpick jumped out from behind the van, gun raised and guards closing in.

"Much obliged for the helpin' hand, Inspector Garter," Toothpick said, smug to previously unknown degrees, "Lemme run these bandidos over to the prison and I'll be back for you all lickety-split! Of course, if you're feelin' neighborly, you could just turn yourself in!"

"Okay," I said slowly as Toothpick led away the rest of the gang, "Roll call. We have no van, no genius, no muscle. What we do have is an outlaw, a really angry cop, and someone who, on a good day, can make a really impressive tuna salad. Who's up for a record? Two rescue missions in two days."

"I take it back, we have a genius."

Because Bentley? Kept all of his notes. There were blueprints of the prison and possible escape routes, partially plotted out and scrapped for a lack of time. All of it at least gave us a starting point.

Well, I say 'us'. It was me and Tennessee who were looking over the blueprints. Kristian was sitting on the other side of the table, looking disapproving and like he was trying to pretend he didn't know us all at once.

The cougar looked kind of antsy, in a repressed way, more so than I'd ever seen him. It occurred to me that this was the only time I'd ever seen him in a situation he wasn't totally in control of and he was not enjoying himself. He probably wouldn't even be helping us get the gang back, but I'd pointed out that we were pretty much his only shot of getting back to our time.

I was pretty sure this was his version of sulking.

It probably made me a bad person that I found it kind of hilarious.

Tennessee was, surprisingly, taking to technology very well. It hadn't taken him long at all to figure out how to manipulate Bentley's holographic schematics and maps.

"Here," he said, pointing to the river, "It's dangerous, but they won't be expecting us to come this way."

I looked at the map and Bentley's corroborating notes before nodding to myself. "Looks doable to me. According to this, the reasons that way got scrapped are first, that there's guards, and second, that Sly can't swim."

"Are you kiddin' me? That boy can't swim?" Tennessee shook his head at my nod, "Now that ain't right. We gotta fix that."

"You're welcome to try, but I've been working on getting him to learn since we first met and, so far, he's been managing to dodge pretty much every opportunity."

"So what do we have to do to get up the river?" Kristian broke in, impatiently.

I gave him a look, but he just stared me down until I sighed and made an educated guess, since the notes hadn't gotten that far, "I guess we need a boat or a raft capable of going up the river. I don't know where we're going to get one, but-"

Tossing his dusty and torn suit jacket onto the back of a chair and rolling up his shirt sleeves, Kristian made for the door, "Leave that to me."

I looked over at Kid, who just shrugged, and ran after to Kristian to give him a spare binocucom to contact us with.

I have no idea where the raft came from, I really don't.

"Let's go," Kristian said when he pulled up by the dock next to us.

"Impressive work, Inspector," I said half-sarcastically, just to be a pain. I carefully climbed aboard, way too worried about the raft dumping me into the water.

"Inspector?" Tennessee asked curiously, leaping aboard himself. He turned to look at Kristian, "You some kinda Sheriff? How'd you get mixed up with Sly?"

Kristian's face twisted into something that just screamed that he regretted all of his life choices, so I coughed and changed the subject to spare us all the awkward conversation, "Maybe we should get going?"

Tennessee shrugged, then nodded down the waterway, "There's bound to be plenty'a guards up that way. Miss Kaia, how do you feel about putting your shootin' skills to the test?"

"Apprehensive, but hopefully the beginner's luck will hold out," I admitted, taking the revolver he handed out to me. Because I knew Kristian was a good shot, but one of his eyes was still swollen pretty shut and that would screw with his depth perception too much for him to be any good.

"Alrighty, let's get goin'!" Tennessee bounced on the balls of his feet a few times as we started heading down the river.

Taking out the first line of guards was actually pretty easy. Mostly because Tennessee did all the work while I took out any TNT barrels they'd tossed into the water to keep boats out.

Eventually, though, we came to a gate that stood up to Tennessee's Crackshot. Kristian pulled up to the dock, steering so easily I started to seriously wonder about the raft, and Kid jumped out. He was going to have to go by himself, the path ahead was too small for two people with guns.

Unfortunately, that left me alone with Kristian while Tennessee went to clear out the guards and open the gate.

Kristian didn't say anything, but I could feel his eyes boring holes into the back of my head while I tracked Tennessee's progress across the gate. Presumably, the Interpol agent wanted to go on some kind of rant, but knew this wasn't the time. I wasn't really looking forward to when we got back to the Safehouse.

Tennessee got back in record time and he had news, "Saw more of that new technology up there."

"Crap, I was hoping he wouldn't have had time to reinforce this way to the prison."

"Nothing a good shot couldn't handle," Kid said with a tip of his hat.

"Let's just get going," Kristian interrupted.

The next leg held a lot more guards, all armed with seemingly unlimited dynamite. It helped that Tennessee was a good enough shot to actually hit all the dynamite before it got to us, but that left just me to hit the guards while Kristian struggled to keep the raft steady.

We managed it eventually, but it took far longer than it probably should have and by the time we reached the next gate it was crawling with guards.

Tennessee looked at the set up as Kristian docked us out of sight and range of the steers on the dam gate, "That switch looks kinda important..."

"Need backup?" I asked, trying to gauge how difficult it would be for Tennessee to reach that switch.

"Nah," he nodded toward the thin pipes connecting the odd water contraptions, "Gonna have to use those."

Yeah, I could see his point. I could very likely make it just fine, but I'd have to be pretty slow and carefully about it and we needed to make up the time we'd lost.

So I stayed back with Kristian again. It was a very loaded, extremely uncomfortable silence, and I really hoped I'd be able to find an excuse to stay decently far away from him for a few days until he calmed down.

It was easy to track Tennessee's progress, even if we couldn't see him. The explosions and gunshots kind of gave it away. Before long the gate was open and he was sliding back to us at top speed.

"Let's get goin'!"

After that it was a blur of dynamite and mines before we had to scramble up and slip inside the back door of the prison.

Unfortunately our element of surprised was non-existent, so we'd barely set foot inside before guards were starting to cut off our exit.

Ducking behind a door frame, pistol in one hand, tonfa in the other, Kristian glanced our way, "Go get the others, I'll cover you!"

He didn't give us a chance to say anything before he took off the way we'd come.

Swinging his gun, Tennessee pointed down another hall, "Personal effects are thataway. We're gonna have to fight our way outta here and we're gonna need all the help we can get."

I took the hint and started down the hall while Tennessee went for where they were undoubtedly holding the gang. If he could draw all the guards in that directions, I should be able to get in and out of the storeroom relatively easily.

There were a few close calls, but by the time I reached it, the storeroom was unguarded. There was a lock and chain on it that I probably could have picked, but there was no time for finesse here.

After shooting the lock off, I tugged the chain off and cast my gaze around the room for the Cooper gang's things. Spotting Sly's cane, I grabbed it, sticking it through my backpack straps so I could free up both my hands to carry the box of binocucoms and techno bits that looked to be from Bentley's wheelchair. I couldn't see anything of Murray's, but that wasn't surprising. His weapons were his fists and I doubt they'd have confiscated his gloves.

Running towards the storeroom, the entire prison had been loud with the sounds of gunfire and shouting. Now, there was silence.

It made me nervous as I hurried back the way I came as quietly as I could. The last thing I wanted was for everyone else to be captured, leaving me to put together some kind of half-baked escape plan on my own.

I needn't have worried, though. By the time I reached the others, they were surrounded by unconscious guards and free of their cell.

Kristian and Sly were also standing toe to toe and looking like they were about to try and kill each other right there in the prison yard. Bentley was trying to talk them down and Murray and Tennessee were standing back, like they'd break up the inevitable fight if they could convince themselves to stop watching for a few seconds.

Jogging up, I cleared my throat, "Little help here?"

The tension broke when Sly and Kristian broke eye contact, fortunately. Sly's eyes widened and he came over immediately, "Kaia! Are you okay?"

It was a kind of stupid question, he could see for himself, but I gave him a smile anyway, "Fine, I just went to get your stuff." I nodded over my shoulder at his cane, still hanging on to my backpack.

"Good thing, too," Bentley wheeled himself over and his robo-arms started loading his wheelchair up with gadgets from the box, "We need to get going."

"But guys!" Murray protested, "Where's the van?! We need the van!"

"We'll have to find it later, Murray," I ducked my head so Sly could carefully pull his cane free.

"Don't we need that van to get back to our time?" Kristian asked Bentley... much more nicely than he'd have asked any of us.

"We can get it back," Bentley said, confidently, "I'm more interested in how you got here in the first place."

"Long story," Kristian said, as we closed in on the raft, "I'll fill you in when we get back to the... the Safehouse."

When we did get back to the Safehouse, Kristian took the raft back to wherever he got it from and I was half-convinced he wasn't going to come back.

He did, though. And he told us his story.

"Interpol's biggest problem right now is a rash of stolen antiquities, all seemingly stolen by the same group," he explained, sitting stiffly in the chair he'd draped his suit jacket over the back of, "Inspector Fox was originally assigned to the case, when it was just a handful of robberies. When it got more out of hand, they called me in to assist, since Fox and I 'collaborated so well on the Cooper gang case'," he said bitterly.

"I didn't know they brought you in," Sly said from where he stood by the door, like he was guarding it.

"You weren't supposed to know," Kristian countered. Neither of them were openly hostile, but I still tensed where I was sitting next to Kid Cooper. I didn't want this to turn into a fight. We were going to have to work with Kristian, the last thing we needed was to have friction between him and anyone in the gang, "Even though it didn't fit your profile, my job was to evaluate whether or not you'd returned to your thieving." The cougar took a long, pointed look around the Safehouse.

Clearing his throat, Bentley tried to get the conversation back on a track that was less fraught with danger, "So how did that land you here?"

For some reason, Bentley was the only one Kristian didn't react to with complete condescension, "We thought Cooper was the one behind the antiquities, so I took over the case since Carmelita had a conflict of interest. After your van vanished, I was searching the museum and found the actual thief unloading antiquities in person."

"Cyrille le Paradox," Sly supplied, "I figured that one out weeks ago."

Kristian's jaw clenched, but he said nothing about that, "I was outnumbered. He shoved me in some strange machine and the next thing I knew..." he waved a hand around the Safehouse as if to encompass the fact that we were, indeed, in the Old West.

"So why does this le Paradox guy have it out for the Coopers?" I asked, looking at Sly and Tennessee, who both shrugged in an eerily similar fashion.

Kristian scoffed, "Who wouldn't have it out for the Coopers?"

"This coming from the Interpol agent who couldn't figure out a thief even after they opened a museum to showcase their stolen artwork?" Sly shot back.

Kristian stood, expression thunderous, and I hurriedly jumped up and said, "Whoa, okay, let's rein it in, guys."

"What I want to know," voice low and sharp, the cougar rounded on me, "is what you're doing here."

After my first instinctive step back, I squared my shoulders and stood as tall as I could, "Why shouldn't I be here?"

"You were supposed to be staying out of trouble," Kristian enunciated slowly, clearly, "Your father is going to be mortified. Your mother-"

It felt like it happened instantaneously. One second I was fighting the urge to duck behind Tennessee, the next I was right in front of Kristian, one hand fisted in his shirt, hauling him down to eye level, "Don't. You. Dare."

"Miss Kaia."

Tennessee's hand closed around mine and it was only then that I realized I'd taken out my baton. I forced my fingers to uncurl from Kristian's shirt and stepped away from him before I could do something stupid.

"Kid?" I asked, trying not to meet anyone's eyes, "You feel like giving me some pointers on the rail-slide?"

"I surely do."

"Great. Let's do that. I'll meet you outside."

I didn't even pretend to do anything but run out of the Safehouse.

Tennessee found me out back by the train tracks a few minutes later with my head in my hands. "You okay, Missy?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I just," I tugged at my hair a few more times before sliding my hands down my face, "I didn't know I'd react that strongly. Took me by surprise." And here I'd been hoping to keep any fights from happening, I hadn't been looking to start one! "Sorry."

"Aw, heck, you got nothin' to say 'sorry' for." Tennessee dropped down next to me and scratched at the back of his neck, "Everyone's got somethin' like that. The others are mighty worried 'bout you, though. Thought Sly was gonna skin that Inspector fella before I left."

Shaking my head, I let out a ragged sigh, "I'll talk to them later."

"They'll be okay if ya don't." Kid said firmly and I had to smile. He hopped up, "Now, ya still want help with the rail-slide?"

"You bet," I wasn't going to pass up pointers from the guy who invented the thing.

"First things first," he said, walking along the tracks, "If the rail wants to take you a particular way, you let it..."

It was well after dark by the time we got back. We didn't go in the regular entrance, rather we climbed up to the top of the clocker tower and I stayed in the loft while Tennessee headed down the ladder to let everyone know we were back.

As sinfully hot as it usually was, there was a chill in the air now that the sun had gone down and looking over the town from the height of the clock tower was actually pretty cool.

I was so zoned out that I jumped when I noticed someone else on the clock face.

"You need to wear a bell!" I insisted, trying to get my heart back under control while Sly slipped inside.

"But that would make my job so much harder," he protested innocently. Then, with a smile and a flourish, he pulled a rose from behind his back.

My laugh was half shock and half delight when I took the flower, "Where did you even get this? We're in the middle of a desert!"

"It's apparently part of the 'festivities'. I think there's supposed to be a rain of rose petals or something," he explained, dropping down next to me on the sleeping bags, "I was doing recon for tomorrow's jobs when I found a whole bunch of them. I thought it might make you feel better."

"You thought right," I said, rubbing a soft petal between my fingers. "You do realize this doesn't count as 'legally purchased', though, right?"

He laughed, "I do, actually." After a few minutes of companionable silence, he asked, "Want to talk about it?"

"I actually did tell you about it once."

Whipping his head around, he stared at me, "I'm pretty sure I'd remember that."

"Well, you were kind of in a coma at the time."

He had to think about that for a second, "Kaine island?"

I nodded, "Bentley said talking to you might help. I ran out of things to talk about."

After thinking about that, "Want to talk about it with someone who's conscious?"

Smiling, I shook my head.

"... want a hug?"

If the sun went out, one of Sly's hugs would probably make me feel optimistic about the impending extinction of the planet; so instead of answering, I leant against his side and relaxed when he wrapped an arm around my shoulders.

No matter how emotionally compromised I was, I'd always be glad I'd come back to the gang.

There we go, another chapter done! I hope you all enjoyed and, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go pass out before I have to wake up and go to class tomorrow.