Hey, everyone! This chapter is a day early because I'm going to be in the car all day tomorrow on a little mini-roadtrip and won't have time to upload. Enjoy the chapter!

I once read a Calvin and Hobbes comic where Calvin sneezed really hard into a tissue, then had to check to make sure he hadn't accidentally sneezed up any brain matter. I thought it was funny, if gross, when I first read it, but the day after my tumble into the river I felt like I could relate to that comic on a spiritual level.

"Well," Bentley said, checking the thermometer he held with a latex glove, "Good news and bad news." He waited patiently to continue until I finished blowing my nose, "Good news: it's not pneumonia. Bad news: it will be if you do anything for the next few days but sit by the fire and eat soup."

"Bentley," I said thickly, tossing the tissue I'd used into the fire, which was both an extremely convenient place to toss of all the tissues and also the only method of disposing of them that the germophobic turtle approved of, "Does it really look like I plan on doing anything else?"

"Not right now," Bentley admitted, wheeling pointedly away from me to drop the thermometer into a biohazard bag, "But in a few days, when you're feeling better? I wouldn't put it past you."

I shrugged in acknowledgement and proceeded to hack half a lung into a tissue.

"You don't do anything by halves, do you Jinx?" Sly asked, sauntering up with a cup of soup and a new box of tissues. I didn't really mind his apparent desire to work through his irrational guilt by bringing me things, it was harmless and also I was lazy. Besides, the only time I actually enjoyed being waited on was when I was sick.

"Where would be the fun in that?" I asked, taking the cup from him. Mmm, tomato soup...

Bentley wheeled back over, checking the sights on his crossbow, "Bob and Murray are on their way back from their missions. Try and get Murray to eat something, he's still upset about Bob being better than him at climbing."

I blinked between the two of them, "I missed another slideshow didn't I?"

"Yup," Sly pulled Bentley's laptop over and balanced it in his lap.

"Thought so. Where are you going, Bentley?"

"To tag Grizz with a homing dart so he'll lead us to his lair."

"You know, you'd think the bad guys would notice when you stabbed them, but apparently not."

Sly bumped me with his shoulder, "Don't jinx it, Jinx."

"Haha, hilarious," I drawled sarcastically, reaching for the new box of tissues.

Bentley just rolled his eyes, "You think you two can behave yourselves while I'm gone?"

"I think we'll use our superior technology to institute a tyranny over the less evolved species and totally screw up the timeline forever."

"She means 'yes'," Sly said, reaching over to try and cover my mouth.

"Do not even, I will sneeze on your face."

Sly withdrew his hand, looking significantly grossed out.

"This is going to end in tears, I just know it." Bentley grumbled, wheeling himself away from the Safehouse.

"I'm glad you have realistic expectations!" I called after him, then had to take a few seconds for a coughing fit while Sly stared at me disapprovingly.

"You brought that on yourself."

"I know what I did."

It was weird, it just being the two of us in the Safehouse. It wasn't the first time and it wouldn't be the last, but after having Kristian and Bob added to the group over the last few days, it was still weird.

Kristian hadn't been banned from the Safehouse solely because he hadn't come back. Everyone was really sketchy when I asked them what exactly had happened between when I fell into the river and when Bentley met up with me and Bob at the Safehouse, but what I gathered was that there had been one hell of a lecture and Kristian had gone off on his own.

Sly hadn't come back to the Safehouse for a few hours, but I suspected that was because he hadn't been the recipient of most of Bentley's frustration. Kristian, on the other hand, had probably been reamed out quite thoroughly and had yet to reappear. Murray felt bad and was trying to do as many jobs as possible to make up for the perceived failure. Apparently, at least one of the jobs had to be passed over to Bob, though, which served the opposite purpose.

Ice Age: guaranteed to make everyone hate everyone else and also possibly themselves in one week or less!

"We're the only sane ones," I confided in Sly, sipping at my soup.

"I agree," he said, passing over a grilled cheese sandwich he'd produced from who-knew-where. He was making it really difficult to keep my thoughts toward him platonic, "Though, let's be fair, we'd get ourselves killed in about three days without Bentley."

"That's optimistic."

"Yeah. Probably closer to three hours."

"Good to know we're on the same page."

"So," I said cheerfully when Bentley finally returned to the Safehouse, "I'm thinking breakfast for dinner. Hard-boiled eggs sound good to everyone?"

He gave me a dirty look. Sly snickered because he was a good accomplice, even if he did look a little green.

"Very funny," Bentley flicked a piece of eggshell off his lap, "Comedians, the both of you. Can we focus on the next phase of the plan?"

"Fill me in, would you?" I asked, shedding one of the blankets around my shoulders. It was getting a little hot, "I missed the slideshow, remember?"

"Yes, and how wonderful it was to have an interruption free slideshow."

"Someone's in a bad mood," I muttered to Sly, who just shrugged. Granted, the atmosphere in the Safehouse wasn't as light as normal, but I thought that had more to do with Murray's slump than anything.

The hippo in question was morosely working on the arcade game that was his current project. I never thought I'd be faced with an opportunity where 'morose' and 'arcade game' were in the same sentence, but there it was. Bob, meanwhile, was hitting random buttons on the replicator and eating whatever emerged. We were going to have to deal with that, at some point.

"I need to tail the Grizz so Bentley can pull some data off his phone to get us into his fortress," Sly said, standing and starting his usual pre-job stretches.

To distract myself from the fact that pre-job stretches were a thing that existed and to cure the actual confusion that I had, I asked, "How does data off his phone get us into the fortress?"

"Do you really want me to spend an hour explaining that?" Bentley asked dryly, taking his laptop back and looking like he was seriously considering spraying it with Lysol, since I'd breathed near it.

After a moment of consideration, "No, not really. Not right now, at least."

"Good, because I don't really want to. You ready, Sly?"

"Absolutely," Sly passed off a new cup of soup to me, because apparently Bentley had made up some kind of fluid-intake/nutrition schedule that I was going to have to find and destroy. I liked soup fine, but it was possible to have too much of a good thing.

Bentley rubbed at his forehead, some of the stress he had to be under showing through again, "I just hope we can catch him when he needs to make a really long phone call. This is the fastest way I can think of to get the code and if it doesn't work out, you might just have to tail him indefinitely until we find another way to get the codes or just come across them."

"That won't be necessary."

I nearly choked on my soup when I heard Kristian's voice. Sly stiffened next to me, Bentley's head shot up, Murray dropped a wrench and yelped when it fell on his head, and Bob straight up growled at the cougar who'd just walked into the Safehouse.

Kristian, for his part, seemed unbothered. He pulled a small tablet out of his suit jacket and slid it across the table to Bentley, "I've been tailing Grizz on my own and have the full security codes and schematics for his fortress."

Bentley picked up the tablet and started going through it, eyebrows going steadily higher as he progressed, "Impressive."

Giving a one shouldered shrug, Kristian looked over to me and jerked a thumb over his shoulder, to the Safehouse door, "Can I talk to you for a second?"

I was on my feet almost instantly and trying my best to ignore the head rush, "Sure." Because I knew the others would protest and seriously, something had to be done about Kristian.

He was extremely different around the gang, almost like an entirely separate person, but I was hyperaware of the fact that he'd come to visit me when I'd been locked up in Paris and made a point to stay in contact even after the gang had split up. This Kristian? Way different than the one I'd had lunch with once a month, so he was either an extremely good actor or there was something about his relationship with the gang that was causing the animosity that only he knew.

Either way, he was either going to have to deal with it on his own or I would make him.

Somehow.

Probably.

I'd give it a shot.

"Kaia-" Sly started, but it was less of a 'you are going to get yourself killed' accusation and more of a 'why are you the way you are' sigh, which was significantly better in the grand scheme of inter-gang relations.

I gave him a look as I put on my coat that made him sigh, shake his head, and toss me my binocucom, which I even managed to catch. Nonverbal communication makes the world go 'round.

Kristian was waiting patiently by the entrance to the Safehouse so we headed out. We didn't go far, partially because I was still sick and shouldn't have been out in the first place and once Bentley emerged from his security-code induced glee he'd come storming out and use his robo-arms to drag me back inside and partially because I wanted the Safehouse within shouting distance.

"You wanted to talk," I leaned up against the cliffside and did my best to stare him down, "So talk."

His face got a pinched look to it, "I owe you an apology-"

"No, you owe Sly an apology. Gravity owes me an apology."

His face got even more pinched at that. This was somewhat entertaining, "I know I haven't really been contributing to... group unity-"

"Kristian, I have a cold and we have a limited amount of time before Bentley comes out looking for blood, so let's cut through the Interpol-team-building-exercises vernacular. You've been a total jerk, especially to Sly, ever since I shoved you out of that runaway carriage." It was probably the oxygen deprivation that was making me so frank. Either that or the fact that I was totally fed up with the situation, "Not to mention it all looks totally uncalled for. So here's your one-time chance to tell me that you have a reason for acting like Sly stole your favorite Pokémon card when you were kids. Otherwise I'm just going to assume you're crazy."

"Alright, alright," Kristian said, seemingly desperate to stem the tide of words, "I do have my reasons. But they're personal."

"So personal that even Sly doesn't know what they are? Because that seems like something you might just have to deal with."

Gritting his teeth, Kristian huffed out a breath, "I'll negotiate a cease-fire with Cooper, will that satisfy you?"

"No, because he's been deliberately trying not to fire at you. Just have a truce or something, or better yet- work out your issues. You are an adult, use your words."

A choked off growl was next before he finally said, "I'll talk to him, okay?"

"Grand."

Sly and Kristian's talk turned out to just be Kristian walked up to Sly, saying 'Truce?' Sly warily replying 'Truce.' and then Kristian walking away. They didn't even shake hands. It was pathetic.

But at least no one was actively trying to kill anybody else, so we were able to all sit down together to plan a nice heist.

This was going to go horribly wrong, it was practically guaranteed.

I snuffled, wrapping my hands around a mug of hot chocolate and trying to hold off a coughing fit. My mom always said 'you get worse before you get better' about colds and that seemed to be holding true. I was currently wrapped in three blankets and considering going for another.

Sly gave me a worried look, but was thankfully distracted when Bentley started up the slideshow.

"Alright, the time has come to deal with Grizz!" Bentley said enthusiastically, flexing his fingers and cracking his knuckles, "This guy is a menace to the time continuum- not to mention the arts! and it's time to shut him and his counterfeit cave-painting operation down!"

"I'm still in the dark as to how he plans to sell cave paintings. Is he selling the location? Is he actually going to chisel them out of the rock or just take photos of them after he digs them up and sell those?" I asked, scratching idly at the side of my face and reaching for a tissue.

Bentley sighed, then took a deep breath, visibly counted to four, and continued, "It appears he's already beefed up security, so he's probably expecting us."

"He's almost definitely expecting us, pal. You shot him three times in the boxers with tracking darts," Sly smirked.

"Yeah, heart boxers. He couldn't be any more stereotypical if he had a heart tattoo with 'MOM' in it on his bicep," I said, rolling my eyes. I then panicked, remembering I was sharing a cave with four orphans.

Kristian breezed right on past that, though, "I concur, because I've read his Interpol file and not only is that listed under distinguishing marks and tattoos, but he also has a barbed wire ring around the other arm."

I stared at him blankly, then elbowed Sly, "Was he joking? I can't tell."

"I think it's best we don't ask," Sly replied sagely.

Bentley just looked embarrassed in all of us, "Anyway, thanks to Kristian we have complete schematics of his mountain base, so once we get inside, I'll be able to target the egg vats and make sure they're scrambled," he looked expectantly around the table, "Just a little... egg humor..." when he only got flat looks (except for Sly, who was snickering like the traitor he was) he coughed awkwardly and turned to Bob, who was watching the whole production with the air of permanent confusion and resigned bemusement, "Next, Bob, you'll need to climb the main generator tower and pry the pressure valves open to completely disrupt power. That should start a fatal chain reaction in the system. Murray, at this point, you'll have to get to the master control panel and make sure no one can reset the system before the damage is done. Of course, you'll need to use your pugilistic skills on any guards that may get in your way."

Murray looked determined and nodded. That was worrying. An overly determined Murray was one that had something to prove and therefore tried to show off and made mistakes.

I was struggling with whether or not to say something to that effect when I noticed something on the pictures Bentley was showing and frowned, "Ah, Bentley, why are the super-important computers partially made of bone? I mean, you'd think if Le Paradox could get microchips and everything here, he'd bring casings for them. Is that leather? Are those femurs?"

With the ease of practice, Bentley ignored me, "After this, the system will be completely disabled and we can do a little bear hunting. Sly, it'll be your job to take down Grizz when we find him. Well, that's the plan, you should all be clear what needs to be done, so let's get out there and put this bear on ice. Kaia, you'll be manning the binocucom station."

"Aw, you're actually making an effort to pretend I get a role in this heist. That's sweet."

"I figure it's best for group unity," Bentley said loftily. Kristian pulled a face and I nearly snorted hot chocolate out my nose.

"I'm just saying," I wrestled halfheartedly with my headset while I struggled to pull my arms from the blankets I'd been wrapped up in. The Safehouse was getting weirdly warm and the cool air actually felt good, "Why make a paint factory in an active volcano? You'd think the heat and chances of horrible, agonizing death would outweigh any possible benefits."

"It's to do with the temperature the eggs have to be at when you turn them to paint," Bentley explained as he made his way through the volcano, "And he has to heat them as low-tech and evenly as possible for authenticity. Hence the volcano."

"Oh yeah," I said, watching the little Bentley sprite move through the fortress blueprints and also keeping an eye on the other group moving through the facility, "Because that scrambler screams 'low-tech'."

"Well," he amended, loading explosive darts into his crossbow, "Low-tech for us."

Bentley actually did most of the work for this particular heist, cutting through a dozen guards, exploding egg vats, it made me wonder if he'd structured it that way specifically so he could blow off some steam.

"Okay," he said, once he'd taken down the final contraption, "Bob, you're up."

I briefly considered asking how Bob was meant to climb up a massive generator tower when he'd been trained on ice, but then I remembered his scary long claws and the fact that wood was much softer than ice and decided that that was a stupid question.

Frowning at my empty tissue box, I flailed free of the blankets around my legs and said into the headset, "I'm getting more tissues. Don't do anything exciting while I'm gone."

"Wouldn't dream of it, Jinx."

"We are in a volcano." Kristian was presumably trying to make a point about the fact that the heist itself was, for a given definition, exciting, but he'd been grumbling under his breath the whole way through the mission about being bored not being allowed to go beat the guards Bentley was taking on so I didn't take him too seriously. Apparently, he had some anger to work through as well. Also, he had no idea that one was actually supposed to turn off the microphone when they were muttering to themselves. I'd recorded a copy of the audio for Sly and I to laugh about later.

I considered saying something snarky to that, but I had to sneeze so I just took off the headset to keep from sneezing onto it and wandered over to the replicator.

One box of tissues later, I was shivering in the cold and more than willing to get back to my blanket nest, but my toes bumped against something half-hidden under one of the furs by the van and, well... curiosity.

Tugging the object free, I found myself staring down at a plain, if good quality, leather wallet. I flipped it open and immediately saw Kristian's ID, it must have fallen out of his jacket. That wasn't surprising, really. No one else in the gang carried a wallet besides me and mine was tucked away in my backpack.

Box of tissues tucked under one arm, I started investigating the wallet. You can learn a lot about someone from their wallet. For example, I discovered that Kristian had a cache of full punch cards from coffee shops that he never seemed to use and that he carried only cash, no credit cards.

I also discovered a laminated photo tucked behind his health insurance card.

The photo was old and faded, the lamination had probably been used to fortify it just as much as it had been used to prevent further damage. It looked like it was from an old Christmas card, a family picture of a couple and their two sons.

"Burglary gone wrong." Bentley had said, "He lost his parents and a younger brother."

Trying to ignore the guilty feeling crawling up my throat, I flipped the photo over to see if there were any names or dates on the back of it and instead found another photo, held to the first by the plastic covering.

This one was of two kids, a young cougar and a younger turtle, on a dilapidated playground. They weren't playing, just reading books in the shade of a tree, but I could see why one of the orphanage workers would have taken the photo. There was a certain... peace about it.

"I grew up in the orphanage, I think I was around eight when he came. I followed him around a lot back then; he was nice enough, but never really friendly. Looking back, I'm sure he just tolerated me because I was quiet."

Maybe not, Bentley...

I flipped the photo back over to the Christmas card side and, yeah, the older boy looked almost the same age as Kristian in the orphanage photo and the younger looked the same age as Bentley.

Well, that cleared up at least a couple of things...

Guilt had set up shop nicely in my chest, but I also knew I couldn't leave this alone, so I snapped a photo with my binocucom of both pictures before reassembling the wallet and toss it casually near Kristian's sleeping spot.

By the time I got back to the binocucom station, Murray and Sly had switched objectives, Bob had nearly met his grisly end, and Murray was in the middle of some kind of ice-skating competition with the Grizz.

After staring blankly at the screen for a good three minutes and wondering how this was our lives, I said into the headset, "Okay, I refuse to be a part of this. I'm going to go play in the snow."

And that's what I did.

"The bow tie's a nice touch."

I grinned, pushing the hair that had managed to loose itself from my braid out of my eyes so I could look up at Sly, "Bow ties are cool and snow-Bentley wouldn't be complete without one. Snow-you gets a hat, snow-Murray gets a scarf, snow-Kristian gets angry eyebrows and to sit over there with snow-Bob to think about what he's done. I'm still trying to figure out what to do for snow-me. Where are the others?"

"Arguing about what to do with Grizz. We don't exactly have a way to get back to our time period, it's all in the Old West. Bentley can work something out, but it won't be exact."

"Oh!" I stopped trying to get the braid on snow-me to look decent and hopped to my feet, pushing up my sleeve, "I have a solution to that!"

Sly stared at the orange fabric wrapped around my wrist, "Is that Tennessee's bandana?"

"Yup, I asked him for it before we left. I remembered we'd left the artifacts in the Safehouse and figured we might need it. Totally forgot about it until now."

Shaking his head, Sly pushed me toward the Safehouse, "Go put a scarf and thicker jacket on before you get even sicker, I'll call Bentley."

Shrugging, I didn't mind going to comply. I'd gone out in just a thin jacket because it had been so hot in the Safehouse that the cold would feel good, but it was freezing now, so I was all for bundling up again.

Once I'd hunted down the necessary garments, I headed back outside just in time to see Sly pluck one of the weird red flowers by the Safehouse entrance from the ground and press it into the snow behind the 'ear' of snow-me.

He turned, saw me, and grinned, "You think that'll work?"

Part of me was convinced he was doing this on purpose, but I knew better. I coughed and broke eye contact, "Looks good to me."

Frowning slightly, Sly took a step back to scrutinize the snow-gang, "You know, it just doesn't work unless you have one too."

And then he was coming at me with a flower and I was panicking a little, "You know this still doesn't count as legally purchased, right?"

"This is the Ice Age, there are no stores. Besides," he continued, arranging the flower to his liking, "It suits you."

Okay, I had to act normal. I allowed myself a deep breath before giving him a flat look and cocking an eyebrow at him, "There is no way this is going to stay in without pins and I don't own any."

He grinned, "That's what replicators are for," but then he frowned again and pressed a hand to my forehead and I was going to die and it was going to be all his fault and I was going to haunt him forever, "Do you have a fever?"

"Probably," I groused. It was an easier explanation. And, on second thought, it made the fluctuating temperature of the Safehouse suddenly make a lot more sense.

My answer got me marched back inside and sat at the table with hot chocolate, but I was perfectly alright with that. The others got back and Bob joined me and Sly at the table while Murray beelined it for the replicator and Bentley went to check over the time machine and make sure all the repaired pieces were behaving with each other. Kristian was outside, probably trying to out-brood his snow-clone or something.

Speaking of, it didn't take long before I waved the turtle over, taking advantage of the fact that Sly was introducing his ancestor to whipped cream, "Psst, Bentley!"

Intrigued, he rolled over, "What is it?"

Still feeling guilty, I pulled out my binocucom, "I have something you should probably see..."

Bentley went outside to talk to Kristian and didn't come back for two hours. When he finally did, the cougar was with him.

The turtle headed back over to the van to tinker with the time machine some more. Kristian, however, came over to the table where the rest of us were and deliberately picked up a mug. After a moment of strained silence, Sly slid the whipped cream can across the table toward him.

And that was, apparently, that.

I'd never understand them, seriously.

It was a quiet few hours after that. Until Bentley managed to get the transceiver to work.

Every single person in the Safehouse jumped badly when a hologram of Dimitri appeared and started yelling.

"Not cool, Coopers! I been sitting here, going grey 'bout you all warping your temporal faces off!"

"Is that Dimitri Lousteau?" Kristian asked dangerously.

"No," I replied instantly, pushing a piece of the fresh-from-the-replicator pie towards him, "Have some pie."

Sighing, he just picked up his fork. Wow. What on Earth did Bentley say to him?

"Hey, Sly!" Bentley called suddenly, "You said Grizz's crown was the real thing earlier. Exactly where and when would you say it's from?"

Sly sat up a bit, gaze going distant as he thought, "Late thirteenth, early fourteenth century England, probably. Why?"

"Well," Bentley said, grinning a bit to himself, "It sounds like Sir Galleth Cooper needs a hand."

"How do you have ancestors from literally everywhere?" I asked Sly, reaching for a tissue, "I don't know why, but it sounds like that shouldn't be the case."

"Does that really surprise you with all the travelling we do?"

"... good point."

Bentley nodded to himself as Dimitri's hologram disappeared. "Everyone, we leave first thing in the morning for the Old West to get the artifacts so we can leave the Grizz in Paris for Interpol to pick up. Then it's on to England."

Who's looking forward to England? Show of hands!