Sly awoke to the soft warm rays of the midday sun. He stretched out his arms and legs and yawned loudly. He hadn't bothered to open his eyes yet, and was seriously considering rolling over and going back to sleep. Maybe even hibernating. Then he had a sudden thought. Something very cool had happened last night and his sleep dulled mind hadn't quite remembered what it was yet. He smiled to himself, quite enjoying the memory loss. It was funny, but forgetting something momentarily can be pleasant if you know that it's something good. There was a feminine groan from the bed next to him, the kind of noise made by someone waking up. Sly stuck out his hand to the person next to him and squeezed.
"Mm. Lo."
He opened his eyes. Next to him lay Detective Inspector Carmelita Montoya Fox of Interpol, covered only by a thin bed sheet. Oh yeah. That was it.
Sly had grabbed her thigh, as she was lying on her side away from him, curled up in a foetal position. He beamed. This…this was good. No, this was better than good. This made good look like being mugged at gunpoint for your shoes. This defied description. This was as if the universe and all of its creators had secretly conspired to give Sly Cooper the best morning in the entire world. It was all he could do not to burst out laughing and run around the apartment screaming. Maybe later.
"Can I fix you some breakfast?" he whispered to…well, let's go out on a limb here, his girlfriend. Just thinking that made his stomach do somersaults.
"Yes, pls," Carmelita mumbled from the bed.
"Okay then," Sly replied, finding it surprisingly hard to talk through the large cheesy grin that was threatening to cleave his face in half. He swore his cheeks were actually beginning to ache.
He turned to leave, then, on a whim, paused for a moment to lift his end of the bed sheet to peek on Carmelita.
"Awesome."
Suitably impressed with the sight that greeted him, he left the sheet alone and pulled on his old thieving shirt from the night before. Then he wandered into Carmelita's kitchen and began to ferret around in her fridge. He'd been with Carmelita for a few months now, but this morning was different. It was the first time that he'd been truly honest with her since the start of their romantic tryst. He plucked a carton of orange juice from the fridge and then danced over to the breadbin and stuffed two slices into the toaster. As he watched the chromed appliance slowly singe the bread, he reflected that he hadn't actually told Carmelita that he remembered his thieving roots. Not per se. They hadn't really talked much at all last night - Sly tugged at his collar - but he thought the visual explanation had been enough, at least for then. He supposed he should really elaborate a bit more this morning. He stared hard at his reflection in the toaster; it was strangely warped, making him look like he had a gigantic head. He hoped Carmelita wouldn't be mad at him. Still, he could tell her that they were both now technically multi-millionaires, so he supposed that that would take the edge off the fact that he lied about his amnesia. The toast popped up, and Sly dug around in one of the cupboards for the jam, and then went back to the fridge to retrieve the butter. It was as he was closing the door on the chilly food store that he felt warm sensuous hands encircle him from behind and rest seductively on his chest. He beamed once again. He glanced over his shoulder.
"Hello," He smiled.
"Hello ringtail," Carmelita smiled shrewdly at him. She hadn't called him that since she was trying to arrest him.
"Breakfast's nearly ready,"
"Hmm, that's good." Carmelita groaned happily, tightening her grip around her raccoon.
Sly made to move to the toaster, but found that Carmelita wasn't moving with him. He made to move again, hoping she'd get the message, but the Vixen remained rock steady.
"Uh…I can't…I can't make it with you attached to me…"
"Oh no!" Carmelita feigned, not surrendering her grip on Sly in the slightest.
"Well, um…"
"We have a small problem here ringtail," Carmelita cut him off, an edge entering her voice. "You see, you appear to have got your memories back. I don't know how, but I'll bet one of your little cronies had something to do with it."
"Carmelita, I…"
The fox squeezed Sly's chest harder, cutting off the raccoon's words and making it hard for him to breathe.
"So what was your plan, huh? A final trip back here for a goodbye kiss and then you're off into the night sky, and I'm left with nothing but a flower and one of those damn raccoon shaped calling cards?"
Sly twisted around to try and look Carmelita in the face. He only managed to turn around so far, all he could see of her was a portion of her sleep dishevelled blue hair and a single teary eye. He noticed that she was wearing her checked dressing gown.
"Carmelita, I swear, it isn't like that." Sly managed to choke out.
"Oh yeah? I'll bet you wouldn't have stayed last night at all if I hadn't…you know…"
Sly cocked his head in a nod. He did indeed know.
"No! I would have stayed anyway. I swear!"
"Why? Because you were expecting to get lucky, huh?"
"No, no…I stayed…hell, I stayed because I love you."
Carmelita's grip loosened almost instantly. Bentley had been right.
"What?"
"You heard me," The raccoon sighed, "I love you."
He turned around in Carmelita's arms to come face to face with her, since her grip was now loose enough for him to do so. The vixen was quite choked up; the poor Inspector must really have thought that the second Sly's memories were back he'd be out the door.
"But…but I thought…"
"And my memories haven't come back, Carmelita," Sly continued evenly. "They never left me. I faked the whole thing."
"You faked the – Why?" Carmelita stared at him in disbelief through a mask of tears.
"It started out as a kind of joke; I wanted to see what you'd do if I said I'd lost my memory. But when you gave me the chance to become a cop; to become your partner – I had to take it. It might've been the last chance I had to be with you."
"You gave up being a thief and the Cooper family fortune…for me?" Carmelita gasped, openly crying.
"Yep." Sly nodded. "Worth every penny."
"Oh Sly!" Carmelita hugged the racoon twice as hard as she had done a minute ago. "I love you too! That's why I said you were a cop! I've wanted to be with you for so long!"
She cried into Sly's shoulder as the ex-thief gasped for air.
"Sorry…Carmelita…Can't…breathe!"
"Oo, sorry." She sniffled in his ear and released her grip a bit.
"Look, I swear I'm never gonna leave you." Sly said, planting a kiss on Carmelita's lips. "As far as I'm concerned this is right where I want to be. I'll even stay on as a cop if it'll make you happy."
Carmelita looked up at him and smiled the happiest smile he'd ever seen her make. She kissed him again, this time deeper and more passionately.
"Wanna scratch breakfast?" Sly asked. Carmelita nodded, and let out a small cry as Sly unexpectedly scooped her up in his arms, and marched purposefully back towards the bedroom.
-
"Well, that was quite unexpected," the Vixen sighed a little while later.
They were both back in the bed, lying on their sides, facing each other, once again covered with the bed sheet. It was starting to look like they might never be able to get up and rejoin society. The sunlight continued to blaze into the room brightly, making the air in the room hot and humid. The sheets on the bed clung to the animals' fur like a liquid, and they grinned at each other like Cheshire cats; tired but very, very happy.
"Sorry if I was a bit emotional earlier." She added.
"That's okay," Sly replied. "I should have told you sooner, I just didn't want to rock the boat."
"It's just that I really thought you were going to run away."
"Nah, I couldn't do that. I'd miss you."
Carmelita giggled and toyed girlishly with a curl of her purple hair. It was a side to the inspector that Sly had never seen before, and it served as a visual reminder that he still had so much to learn about Carmelita.
"So would you really have arrested me if I'd tried to leave?" Sly grinned.
"I guess so."
"Well, I guess that's an incentive for me to stay then, isn't it?"
"Yes, I suppose it is," Carmelita purred as the pair leaned in to steal yet another kiss.
"What I want to know is, what made you tell me now?"
The racoon frowned and glaced away. He still wasn't particularly proud of the way he'd handled the situation, either with his former team or Carmelita.
"Ah, I ran into Bentley last night," Sly admitted. "He made me realise a few things."
"Yeah, I figured it was something like that." The inspector placed a comforting hand on Sly's arm.
"I woke up to the fact that I still owed him and the rest of the team a few things, and that I wanted to be honest with you."
"Aw, Sly. You're sweet."
"We've decided to share the loot evenly…"
The vixen's expression hardened.
"Wait…loot? You mean the Cooper fortune? Bentley has it?"
"Um, yeah, I've been meaning to mention that. Bentley secured it after we left the island, and now we're all going to share it. Technically I'm a multi-millionaire."
"Damnit Sly!" Carmelita exclaimed. "Why'd you have to go and tell me that?"
"What? Why, I thought you'd be pleased!" The raccoon exclaimed.
"No, that entire fortune was stolen! I'm supposed to report it! I'll have this playing on my conscience now…"
"Aw come on honey, most of that fortune was stolen before either of us were even born, and all of it has been stolen from criminals or bad people."
"Eh? It was? How do you know that?"
"It's the code of the Coopers," Sly said, moving to lie contentedly on his back.
"The code of the Coopers?" Carmelita repeated, calming down somewhat and moving beside Sly and draping her arm over his chest and her leg over his.
"Yeah, one of our first codes of practice is that we only ever rip off other thieves, or else people that had it coming." Sly replied dreamily.
"I didn't know you had a code," Carmelita said. "I thought you were just a thief, albeit a very good one."
Sly glanced down at the beauty of a fox draped over him.
"Ah, you have much to learn, young Carmelita."
"You're a smartass, ringtail."
-
"Well, this is the firing range," Inspector Fox said, sweeping through the door to the sterile room. The range was basically a large corridor stretching down about fifty feet, with square window holes in the wall at regular intervals the whole way down. These holes opened out into a large open area, with targets lined up at the far end in line with the holes. They were attached to electrical pulley systems so the officers could retrieve their targets. There were small tables next to each window for ammunition and spare guns. The air inside was crisp and cool, laced with the slightest twinge of grease and gunpowder. Constable Cooper stepped inside nervously behind the DI.
"Uh, I'm not too sure about this, Carm- Inspector Fox…" he said, glancing at the floor.
"Now, Constable Cooper, all Interpol law enforcers are expected to maintain at least a competent proficiency with small arms."
"Yeah, but…"
Sly turned the bulky, heavy, uncomfortable revolver over in his hand. He didn't like guns; there was no way around it. He didn't like being near them, and he had no desire to shoot one at all. How on earth some people could do this for fun was beyond him.
"Just line yourself up at this window here."
Nervously Sly did as he was told, and stared at the target at the back of the room. It looked tiny from where he was. How the hell was he supposed to hit that?
"We've got you Interpol's standard revolver. Most officers carry automatics these days, but this is better for you since they're easier to maintain and there's less parts to jam up on you."
Sly looked at the weapon in his hand. Guns could jam? You learn something every day he guessed.
"Right, now just raise it up at arm's length in front of you with both hands, and line up the sight at the front of the gun with the sight at the back. You got it?"
Sly once again followed what Inspector Fox had said as closely as possible. He raised the gun in front of him. This position caused his suit jacket to puff up at the shoulders, and the material brushed the fur of his cheeks. He felt faintly ridiculous.
"Good. Now flick off the safety-"
After a moment's fumbling Sly managed to actually locate the safety catch and flick it off.
"Take a deep breath-"
Sly inflated his lungs.
"And when you're ready, gently squeeze off a shot."
Sly held in his breath and stared hard down the line of his sights. They were all over the place, wobbling all over the target and most of the surrounding wall. Sly knew bitterly that if he had been holding his cane instead of a gun his grip would be perfect. He waited for the instant when he supposed his sights were more over the target, and fired. He missed. By quite a lot. A bulled hole appeared in the wall a good meter to the left of the target.
"That'll happen the first few times." Inspector Fox smiled. "Here, let me help you."
The inspector came up behind Cooper and placed her hands over his. Her head was right next to his, and Constable Cooper could feel her body pressing into his back and her breath on his cheek. He closed his eyes for a second, savouring the moment. Inspector Fox raised his hands, and the gun, and levelled it at the target. Sly tried to relax as much as possible as the Inspector guided his aim with barely perceptible nuances. He tried hard not to think of Carmelita as his girlfriend whilst he was at work. Here she was Inspector Fox. Even is she was wearing her usual outfit consisting of a brown khaki jacket that was worn open over the top of a zip up strapless top, bare midriff and tighter than tight jeans. God, it drove him up the wall…
"There, that should do it."
"Huh? Oh, right."
Sly pulled back gently on the trigger, and the bullet hit the target just below the bull's-eye.
"There, you see! All you need is a little practice." Carmelita spoke directly into the raccoon's ear. He wasn't convinced, but he nodded all the same.
"Do you want me to show you?" She asked pulling away, much to the raccoon's disappointment.
"Uh, yeah, okay. That might help." He replied, somewhat flustered.
The vixen nodded, and gestured for him to step out of the way. Constable Cooper did so, and the DI took his place. She pulled her automatic from her shoulder holster and pointed it one handed at the target. She barely paused before she began firing and within the space of two seconds she'd fired off five shots. Constable Cooper could only look on in awe as she thumbed the target retrieval button, and the paper cut out whirred back to their window. Sly looked at the target closely. The bull's-eye had been completely obliterated. He could still see the small hole where Inspector Fox had helped him hit the target, but he couldn't separate the DI's shots at all. They were so close together that they formed one large ragged hole.
"Wow," Sly breathed. He always knew Carmelita was an outstanding shot, but it was still impressive to see categorically just how good she was. Just as he was finished scrutinising the target, the door to the firing range opened.
"DI Fox?" The young officer asked entering the room. He was a pearly white eagle in an ill-fitting sergeant's uniform, and looked like he was fresh out of the academy.
"Hello," Carmelita said from behind Sly, returning her gun to its holster.
"Chief wants to see you." He said simply, then left as quickly as he'd entered.
Constable Cooper shot a worried glance at his partner, but DI Fox kept her expression neutral. She had no idea why the chief wanted to see her.
"You'll be ok practicing by yourself here for a little while right?"
"Uh, yeah, I think so."
"Right. Well, I'll go and see what the chief wants, and then -" She said checking her watch, "It should be about time for us to clock off."
She turned and strode out of the door, leaving Sly alone in the large range. The raccoon shrugged and pulled out his revolver fro a second time and had a go at firing it just as Carmelita had done. The shot went into the ceiling of the range.
"Damn it."
-
Carmelita approached the frosted glass window in the door of the Chief's office and rapped on it lightly with her knuckles. A muffled call of 'Come in!" was heard within the office, and she eased the door open and leaned her head around it.
"You wanted to see me, sir?"
"Ah, Inspector Fox. Yes, take a seat."
Carmelita entered the room and padded over the faded green carpet to the creaky wooden chair that sat opposite the head of their precinct. She sat down lightly on the protesting chair, and waited patiently for the chief to explain why he'd wanted to see her. She let her eyes drift around the room as she waited. The office was pretty run down with age; the chief didn't really hold the upkeep of his own office in the highest regard. There was a book shelf behind the desk that ran the length of the room that was crammed with old police reports, files, and books on crime and detective methods. The chief's desk was a battered polished oak writing desk, not that you could see much of its surface. Practically the entire top was covered with recent crime reports, odd memos, mug shots and confessions. An in-tray lurked at the far corner, and was threatening to spew its papery contents all over the floor. A weathered computer sat just to the right of the chief, it's monitor pointing away from her. It whirred softly and blew warm air into the room. The desk's only extravagance was a silver picture frame which sat just in front of the Chief, also with its back to the Inspector. A wire wastebasket sat on the floor beside the desk and it too was full to bursting point of scrunched up paper balls. Behind Carmelita there was a rubber plant in a terracotta pot that looked like it might be the only thing in the whole office that was well looked after. Finally there was the chief, a diminutive bearded dog with a fiery temperament and who regularly enjoyed smoking cigars. He was sitting in a patchy antique leather swivel chair, and was carefully picking over a police report. With a twinge of fear Carmelita realised that it was her report on the Dr. M island destruction.
"I was just reading your report here, Inspector Fox."
"Yes sir," She replied, the fear chilling the pit of her stomach.
"It makes for some interesting reading. I just have one small question."
"Sir?"
"Do you take me for an idiot?" He asked, leaning back in his chair and pulling a cigar from the top drawer of his desk.
Carmelita swallowed hard. He knew!
"No sir."
"This report says that the infamous criminal Sly Cooper was 'most likely' buried alive with the island's cave in, is that correct?" He chief said slowly, taking a long drag on his cigar.
"Yes sir."
"And now less than six months since that incident, you, Carmelita Fox, the Inspector who has always had to be assigned partners in the past, voluntarily nominate a constable from another precinct by the name of Constable Cooper. So I'll ask you again: Do you take me for an idiot?"
"A mere coincidence, sir." Lie! Carmelita's mind screamed. Lie your ass off!
"Coincidence." The Chief sighed. "Constable Sly Cooper? That's one hell of a coincidence, Inspector Fox."
Carmelita remained silent as the Chief's eyes bored into her own.
"Tell me, Inspector, for how long were you working the Cooper case?"
"For the better part of four years sir." Carmelita sighed inwardly.
"Four years. You must have had to get right inside his head to chase him for so long. I ask you, Inspector, did you get in a little too deep?"
"I'm not sure I understand the question, sir."
"Oh, I think you do." The chief rose from his chair and paced around his desk towards Carmelita. She didn't rise, just followed him with her eyes. She was sweating with fear at this point, but she hoped it wasn't showing too much. Was she going to be arrested?
The Chief's next words surprised her.
"Carmelita, I used to be a street walking cop, you know. I was an officer, a constable, a DI, and finally -" he gestured to himself, "Chief. I know a thing or two about detection. And I know what's going on here."
Carmelita was unsure what to do. She's been a part of countless interrogations and confessions, so she knew that the Chief was just putting pressure on her. All the same…
"Am I to understand that I'm under suspicion of perverting the course of justice, sir?" She chose her words very carefully, so as not to imply guilt. The Chief smiled wryly.
"You don't have to speak like that. We're talking off the record here, Carmelita."
The Inspector breathed a sigh of relief.
"Besides, I don't technically have anything to charge you with anyway. All of 'Constable Cooper's' references checked out."
Carmelita glanced away and thanked her lucky stars that her contacts had managed to deliver the goods on forged documents.
"Look, all suspicions aside, you're one of the finest police officers I have. You've always been dedicated, resourceful, trustworthy and above all, very, very talented. I just wanted us to have this little chat so I could tell you this: Be very, very careful Carmelita. This department can't afford a scandal on this scale, and if this all blows up in your face I can't be seen to be lenient with you."
"I understand, Sir." Carmelita breathed deeply. The old dog let his gaze linger on the Inspector for a few moments longer.
"Well, I'll ask you then. Are all aspects of this report correct and true, to the best of your knowledge?"
There was a long silence in which Carmelita stared at her shoes. Finally she replied:
"Yes sir."
The Chief nodded sagely and fished around in his drawer for a rubber stamp and an ink palette.
"In that case," He said, dipping the stamp on the ink palette and bringing it down onto the file, "This case is closed."
Carmelita looked up, as the Chief handed the file over to her.
"Good job Inspector Fox." He said.
Carmelita sat in a stunned silence for a few moments. Did she have this correctly? Was the Chief actually saying that he knew Sly Cooper was alive, and he was willing to turn a blind eye to it? She stared at him dumbfounded, and after a few seconds accepted the file he was offering.
"That'll be all Inspector." The Chief said curtly, making a note of something on a pad.
Carmelita tucked the file under her arm and strode towards the door. As her hand was on the handle, the Chief spoke again.
"I know what it is to be in Love, Carmelita,"
The DI turned to look back at her superior. He was looking at the picture within the silver frame.
"That's why I'm letting you get away with this one." He looked up to her with a smile.
Carmelita cracked a small smile of her own.
"Thank you sir."
She opened the door and strode from the room to rejoin her partner.
-
Sly sat in the passenger seat as Carmelita revved the engine impatiently at the lights. The rain dripped merrily down the car's windshield in mini waterfalls and splatters. The car's engine only partially drowned out the constant pattering sound. Sly glanced at Carmelita.
"How'd the meeting with the chief go?" he asked tentatively.
"Well, he knows that you're the infamous thief Sly Cooper, that's for sure." Carmelita said casually, as she turned right at the lights.
"What!" Sly blurted out.
"Yep that's what I almost said." She replied equally casually, squinting through the rain to try and read some of the street names.
"Well…what happened! Are you in trouble?" He gasped suddenly. "Are you driving me to jail?"
Carmelita shot him a cute glance.
"No, Sly. He's closed the case. It won't go any further."
"He closed the case? Why?"
"I'm not sure. I think it's because he trusts me as a Cop. Beyond that I have no idea. He said he knows what it is to be in love, whatever that means."
"Wow," Sly breathed in relief. "Sounds as though he's a romantic at heart."
"Yeah, maybe," Carmelita smiled at her boyfriend. "But he's made it clear that if anything goes wrong it's my ass on the line, so Sly, nothing had better go wrong."
"Moi?" Sly grinned at her. She returned his smile. Seemed like all they ever did these days was beam at each other.
"You don't have to worry. I won't be causing any trouble."
"Good."
"Ah well, we can forget about it for tonight and relax a bit," Sly said, pushing himself back in his chair a little.
"You get to relax. I've never been in the company of criminals socially before."
"Oh yeah, I forgot that you were taking a walk on my side of the law tonight."
"Yeah, well, I guess I owe it to you. I know it can't be easy suddenly becoming a cop after so many years running away from them."
Sly looked over at Carmelita. Her eyes were fixed dead ahead, staring at the road. Sly leaned in and planted a kiss square on her cheek. Carmelita giggled quietly.
"Anyway, I forgot to ask you, how old are you today anyway?"
"Urm…" Sly said in embarrassment. Carmelita broke her gaze with the road for a few seconds to look at Sly.
"You don't know?"
"Er, not exactly. I think I'm about twenty-two. Me and the guys have never really dwelled on it."
"Poor Sly," Carmelita commented, turning the car into a shady back street.
"I'm fine. I quite like the air of mystery."
They drove on in silence for a few more minutes in silence, just quietly enjoying each other's company. Then, after a few moments longer, Carmelita pulled into a side alley.
"We're here."
"Cool. I'll lead the way."
They jogged through the rain to the doorway of Bentley's apartment, and Sly hit the buzzer button.
-
"Hi, good to see you mate. Happy Birthday!"
"Aw thanks, Bentley." Sly said as the tortoise opened the door to his friend. Sly stepped in cheerfully, while Carmelita shyly brought up the rear.
"Bentley, Carmelita, Carmelita, Bentley." Sly said glancing at them both. "I know you've both met before, but never under these circumstances, so may as well be formal."
"Good to see you," The tortoise offered a green hand to Carmelita amiably. The Inspector took his offer of friendship immediately.
"Likewise."
"See? I knew we were only ever at professional loggerheads. This is proof there was never anything personal." Sly chuckled.
"You may be right," Bentley agreed. He was wearing his usual red bow tie, but he was also sporting a pointy party hat which made him vaguely resemble a lawn dart. As sly looked at his friend he noticed that the tortoise had also taken the trouble to decorate the spokes of his wheelchair with some coloured streamers. Sly smiled.
"Well, can I get you guys anything? We have plenty of drinks and snacks and other stuff…you guys want a beer?"
"Sounds good to me, you?" Sly said glancing at Carmelita.
"I probably shouldn't, I'm driving…" The vixen said slowly.
"You sure?" Bentley asked. "You know you guys could always stay the night. We have a spare room."
"Honey?" Sly asked again. It was her and Sly's day off tomorrow. Carmelita looked into his eyes. How could she deny the raccoon a sleep over at his friend's house?
"Uh, yeah, that sounds great, thank you." She said to Bentley.
"Awesome." The tortoise replied. "I'll go fetch you them."
He wheeled himself over to the kitchen and opened the fridge.
"Penelope! They're here!" He called out as he retrieved the bottles.
"Coming!" a mousey voice replied from the back of the apartment. A second later, Penelope entered the room, wearing a cream coloured polo neck top, designer jeans and a pair of chic sandals. She was smart but casual. She too was wearing a party hat, the elastic holding it to her head at a jaunty angle. Carmelita glanced at the floor in slight embarrassment. She was beginning to wish they'd made a stop at her apartment before they'd come; it would have given her a chance to change out of her work clothes.
"Hey Sly," Penelope greeted the raccoon with her usual husky voice. "Happy Birthday!" she said, pecking him lightly on the cheek.
"Thanks very much!" Sly beamed. "Penelope, I don't think you've met Carmelita…"
The mouse move towards Carmelita and held out her hand and grinned widely.
"Hi there," She said, shaking Carmelita's hand happily. "Bentley's told me so much about you."
"Oh, he hasn't has he?" Carmelita groaned. "I'm really a nice person, honest!"
Sly smiled broadly as the two girls chuckled together. Carmelita's self depreciative remark seemed to have won the heart of the pint-sized engineer. After a moment or two Bentley returned with their drinks.
"Sorry guys, took me a while to find the bottle opener." He explained. Penelope rolled her eyes at Carmelita while the Vixen made the 'tell me about it' face. Alarm bells rang faintly in the back of Sly's mind.
"Ah, I see you two have met, good, good." Bentley exclaimed as he passed the bottles of beer to both Sly and Carmelita. He seemed to have missed the girls' silent conversation entirely. Carmelita took a deep hit from her bottle and sighed contentedly. Nothing like a nice cold one after a hard day's work.
"Babe, did you give Sly his present yet?" Penelope asked her boyfriend.
"Uh, no I haven't…" Bentley admitted.
"Useless." Penelope sighed. "I'll go get it. Won't be a minute."
"Thanks sweetie," Bentley called after her.
"You didn't have to get me anything, pal," Sly spoke to his small friend.
"Ah, don't be silly Sly, we wanted to. Just hope you like it."
"I'm sure I will."
"Oh, I forgot to tell you," Bentley said suddenly, taking a slurp from his own beer. "I spoke to Murray – he'll be coming over tonight."
"Oh wow, excellent!" Sly cried. "I thought he was still in Louisiana?"
"Yeah he was, but he leapt on the first plane out when I told him we'd managed to contact you. I think he really misses you."
"Aw. I've missed 'The Murray' too."
"Yeah. And get this: he's bringing his new girlfriend over for us to meet!"
"You're kidding!" Sly gasped with an amount of disbelief that was probably a little bit unkind. "Who is she?"
"No idea. He sounded a little shy about it on the phone. He said we'd just have to meet her. I'm expecting him anytime soon."
"Awesome!"
He turned to Carmelita.
"This I am curious to see."
The Inspector simply smiled and shook her head at Sly a little.
"Me too." Bentley chipped in.
Presently, Penelope re-entered the room carrying a large flat birthday present that was almost as big as the mouse herself.
"Here you go Sly, happy birthday."
"Wow, thanks you guys, this looks amazing!"
"Hope you like it, it was something we found in your family vault." Bentley said as Sly began to tear off the ruby red wrapping paper.
"My vault, huh?" Sly repeated, unsure of what it could be. He ripped off the last of the paper and found that it was an ornate golden frame, with a brown board in the middle. For a second he thought that they had just given him the frame as a present, but then he noticed the backing wire and he realised that he was just holding it the wrong way round. With some effort, he flipped the portrait over, and froze when he saw the picture that was there. Bentley and Penelope had found a portrait of his father. His dad was sitting in a leather armchair, one of his legs resting casually on his knee. The Cooper cane, Sly's own cane rested up against the arm of the chair. He sat with his arms folded, staring out of the picture, an unlit pipe perched between his lips, with a baby raccoon sitting sleepily on his knee. He wore the same blue shirt as Sly had done, and indeed he wore the same facial expression that Sly often used, a faint smile, the corners of his mouth just tugging back in contentedness. He had the same angular face as sly, and many of his features were similar, but there were a few subtle differences that separated father and son. There were lines on his father's face that Sly didn't have yet, though the onset of age and experience. His father was sporting a few white hairs in the photograph, something which thankfully had yet to befall sly. The most striking difference of all however, was that while Sly had black rings of fur around both of his eyes, his father had only one, over his left eye, making it look rather like he wore a permanent monocle. He smiled slyly at his son out of the picture, across the boundaries of time. For a few moments, Sly couldn't even speak. Carmelita peered at the picture over his shoulder and instantly understood why it was an emotionally intense moment for the raccoon.
"Where did you guys…the only picture of my Dad I saw in there was damaged, you couldn't see his face…"
"We found it behind one of the dressers in your father's section of the vault. It must have fallen off the wall."
Sly made no reply, but merely touched the glass of the portrait frame along his father's face. He stared at it for a few more moments, and glanced at the nameplate at the bottom.
"D. Cooper and son," He read. "That's me sitting on his knee."
Penelope nodded.
"It must have been taken just after you were born."
"He looks pretty proud to me, man." Bentley said, smiling up at his friend.
"Thank you so much!" Sly said tearing his eyes away from the picture. "I mean it. This is the best thing you ever could have…"
"It's fine, it's fine," Bentley laughed. "It's the least we could do. Glad you like it."
"I love it," The racoon asserted, blinking away one or two tears. "Thank you."
Very carefully, the raccoon propped the picture up against the wall in the corner of the room. Carmelita stared at it a few moments longer.
"You were cute as a baby, Sly!" She murmured, giving him a hug.
"Thanks. Hey, what do you mean, I'm cute now, aren't I?"
"I suppose so," She smiled, giving him a quick kiss.
"Jeez, get a room you guys," Bentley teased.
Sly shrugged at his friend.
"Sorry man. You'll just have to put up with it."
Just then there was a buzzing sound from somewhere near the door.
"Ah, I bet that'll be Murray," Bentley exclaimed as he wheeled himself excitedly over to the intercom. He pressed the button down with a green finger.
"Hello?" he spoke into the grille.
"Hi, Bentley it's me."
"Hey Murray, I'll unlock the door for you."
"Thanks. Is sly there yet?"
"Yep, he got here with Carmelita a few minutes ago. Looking forward to seeing your girlfriend!"
"Uh, yeah, we'll be right up." Murray said uncertainly.
The intercom clicked off and Bentley pressed the door unlock mechanism. The friends waited patiently for their new arrival, and they heard Murray's cumbersome footsteps on the stairs a good few moments before the knock at the door signalled his arrival.
Bentley swung the door open, and just barely framed in the doorway was the gigantic pink hippo, lightly damp from the rain outside. He was wearing a racing t-shirt and a black jacket to keep out the chilly September air.
"Hi Bentley!" He cried, high fiving the tortoise
"Good to see you mate," Bentley cried, rubbing his palm a little.
Murray caught sight of Sly in the room, and once Bentley had wheeled his chair aside, Murray dashed over to him and scooped him up in a bone crunching hug.
"I've missed you Sly! It's sooo good to see you again! Happy birthday!"
"Uh, hey thanks Murray, it's good to see you too," Sly gasped. "I've missed you as well."
Murray caught sight of Carmelita and abruptly dropped Sly in a heap. He advanced on the Vixen, and for a moment she thought he was going to attack. He reached her and scooped her up and gave her the same treatment as Sly.
"Miss Fox!" He cried crushing the life out of her. "Long time no see! Glad to hear you and Sly finally hooked up!"
"T-th-thank you," Carmelita choked from somewhere in the middle of Murray's bear hug.
"You're one of the family now," Sly commented, having picked himself up from the floor and popped his shoulders back into place.
"Yeah, there's no turning back now," Penelope laughed. At the sound of her voice Murray's head snapped round as if it were spring loaded.
"Penelope!" He shouted, dropping Carmelita and charging towards the mouse with steps that shook the whole apartment. "How are you?"
"Ack!" Penelope exclaimed, turning tail and attempting to outrun the pink juggernaught. "Not me! I'll get squished!"
Bentley laughed loudly as Murray caught up with his girlfriend and squeezed the living daylights out of her. He got away with a sore hand because of his wheelchair. Magic.
Then a thought struck him.
"Murray? Where's this girlfriend you were talking about?"
"Oh right," Murray exclaimed, dropping the mouse. She fell to the floor and groaned loudly. "I asked her to wait outside while I came in here to prepare you all."
"Prepare us?" Sly questioned. "We're mostly former thieves Murray. We're probably the most unprepossessing people you're likely to meet."
"Yeah, I know, but-" Murray played with his fingers and glanced at the floor. "My girlfriend, you…you've kinda met her before."
An air of puzzlement passed by the whole room.
"Sweetie? You can, um, come in now." Murray called out. In the doorway, a figure smaller than Murray, but still slightlylarger than anyone else in the room appeared. She had green scaly skin and wore a red headscarf over her black dreadlocks. Countless rings and other pieces of exotic jewellery adorned her person. She grinned a toothy smile, and a single ruby glittered from her navel. Her long fingernails were painted blood red, and her rain slick dress clung to her skin and showed off her plentiful bosom. Although the crocodile had lost a lot of weight since anyone in the room had last seen her, there could be no doubt as to her identity.
"Wale, wale, we meet agin, Sla Kew-per," Mz. Ruby said from the doorway.