Note: To all those still holding a torch for this fic, I would like to apologize for not updating for what I know must feel like a thousand years. Due to some rather unforeseen events, and other continuing disruptions, my creative process has been at a standstill and I haven't had the motivation to continue writing as much as I would've liked. But I have managed to add onto this chapter for the past year and it's been eating away at me that I haven't at least posted it, if only to let you all know that I do love this story and am trying desperately not to let it fall through the cracks. It may not seem like it, but this story truly does hold a special place in my heart, and I'd like to thank all those that feel the same way that have been submitting reviews.

If you all haven't given up on it yet, then neither will I.

~TDW

Beagle Without A Mask

Chapter 15

The Emotional Roller-coaster…

Bonnie continues to lean up against the wall next to the kitchen door, listening quietly, not wanting to alert the others of her presence. She'd attempted to follow Bouncer in, only to linger at the entrance as Bankjob went off on his rant, surprising her with what sounded like sincerity in his voice, words coming from the heart; and for a guy like him, that was rare.

She rubs at her glazed eyes, pulling herself together before turning back the way she'd came. Once back in her room, she closes the door gently behind her, sitting on her bed and leaning over to put her face in her hands. Bonnie shakes her head, piecing everything together.

She couldn't believe it. She just, couldn't, believe it. Not only were they attempting to take on a job at McDuck's money bin again, but it had to be on the same night as the charity event…the same night she had plans to be there. On a date. With a cop.

To add insult to injury, they were dedicating the entire thing in the name of their dying mother. Not to mention the fact that there was no way she was going to tell them about her predicament! If they found out that she was practically given an opportunity at McDuck's bin on a silver platter, and not even attempted to let them in on it or allow them to come up with some kind of scheme revolving around it…

To be honest? She didn't know what would happen!

Only one solution came to mind; Ma Beagle. With no one else to turn to, she was the only one who might actually know what to do in such an odd situation. As much as she hated to bother her about something like this, she really couldn't see any other option that didn't involve her brothers overreacting. But with their mother on her side, maybe things would turn out alright.

She lightly bangs her head on her fists, knowing things couldn't possibly get any worse-

BUZZBUZZ…BUZZBUZZ…

Bonnie groans, beginning to really hate life all of a sudden as she reaches into her pocket to retrieve her vibrating phone. She stares glumly at the lit up screen, expecting to see Jack's number. Instead, it's one she's never seen before. She studies it curiously before flipping it open, placing the receiver to her ear.

"Hello?"

When there's no answer she goes to repeat herself-

"Well, now…I didn't think I actually had the right number. But here ya are."

Bonnie, not recognizing the raspy voice, doesn't know what to expect. "Excuse me? Sorry, I think you might have the wrong number."

"Oh, no. Yer exactly who I need to talk to, Miss Beagle," the caller says slowly. "Or do ya prefer Bonnie?"

She bolts upright. "Who is this? How'd you get this number?"

The man responds with a cackle. "It's easy what ya can do with the right connections, lass. Especially when yer as rich as I am."

"Oh." Bonnie narrows her eyes, surprised the Scottish accent hadn't tipped her off sooner. "What do you want?"

"It's not so much what I want…but what you and that bunch uh thugs you call a family want." There's a pause. "How's a giant bin filled with cash sound?"

"Sorry," she states. "But there's nothing you and I have to talk about. For yer own sake I suggest you hang up the phone and call the other number that you probably have on speed dial."

"Don't be so hasty, lass. I'm sure there's something that can be arranged…and if yer anything like that mother uh yours, there shouldn't be a problem-"

"Listen here you grease ball." Bonnie stands, keeping her voice low. "I don't know where the hell it is you get your sources from, but I am NOT like the rest of my family! I have never, and I mean NEVER, had anything to do with their stupid obsession with that monstrosity of a building." She points at nothing in particular. "If you wanna use my family to just be a pain in McDuck's tail feathers, then be my guest. But don't you ever, call me on my personal phone! Do you understand that?"

Flintheart Glomgold laughs dryly again. "Come now! There's no need to keep this up. Ya may have everyone else fooled, but not me."

"What're you talking about?" she asks, wanting more than anything to hang up on him, but something in her gut told her not to. "And you still haven't explained why you're calling me instead of Bigtime."

"I know all about ya, dearie. And I must admit, yer quite the little bandit fer not havin' a previous record. Not bad, not bad at all." He genuinely sounded impressed. "And fer someone so young? Now that takes real guts. A bank heist isn't easy to pull off, ya know…and damn near impossible to do it alone. I'm surprised you were able to keep it up for so long without anyone noticing…well, until now, that is."

Bonnie blinks. "What?"

"Of course, I can't be too surprised…seein' as how it's in yer blood, and all." His tone then becomes dangerous. "Though, I'm not exactly thrilled with yer choice of target. I must say, if ya wanted some attention, you've definitely gotten it."

Bonnie takes the phone away from her ear to stare at in confusion before getting back to the conversation. "Listen; Flintheart, is it? Okay, I…think ya might have the wrong Beagle. You, might be thinking of my cousins, the Beagle Babes, because honestly…as flattered as I am that you seem to think so…" She forces a laugh, attempting to be patient with the strange accusation. "I don't do the crime, thing. I mean, they're really the only girls in the family that do. Well, except Mom."

"Still gonna play hard to get, eh?" He gives a rather exaggerated sigh. "Well, I was hoping it wouldn't come to this, but, seeing as how you don't wanna cooperate."

"Whoa whoa, hold on a sec!" Bonnie suddenly becomes angry. "Are you threatening me? Who do you think you are?! You can't jus-"

"Someone that doesn't like to be stolen from!" He shouts angrily. "Or lied to! Now…you and the other goons are gonna go after McDuck, and yer gonna use what ya take from HIM to replace whatever you've taken from ME! Ya got that?!"

Bonnie didn't know what to make of all this; did he actually think she was like the rest of her family? It was crazy! He'd never even met her before. The only reason she knew who he was had been because of him doing business with Ma Beagle and the rest of them over the years. She'd never broken into a bank in her life.

For a brief moment, an image flashes into her thoughts, giving her a sudden migraine.

"Look," she states, pinching the pressure points between her eyes. "I'm only gonna say this one more time." She speaks slowly. "I…do not…get involved…with the crime…thing! Where do you get off calling me up out of nowhere to accuse me of something that I didn't do, and that probably didn't even happen!" She no longer keeps her voice down, too angry to care. "So unless you've got actual proof that I really have stolen something from you, I suggest you…what's so funny?"

Glomgold, after letting her rant for a moment, had started up his laugh again, sounding just as cruel as ever. "So, it's proof ya want. Well, why didn't ya say so? Yer visiting that home sweet home uh' yours, aren't ya?"

"Not that it's any of your business, but yes. Why the hell do you care?"

"I just wanted to make sure I can get ya that proof you'll be needin', since that memory uh' yours is a wee bit fuzzy at the moment," he states with confidence. "It'll be there in an hour. Hopefully, after ya see it, things will start to come back to ya."

Bonnie isn't sure what to come back with, but forces herself to at least say something. "Hey, now hang on just…what proof? From where? How could you even have-"

"Goodbye, Miss Beagle," he interrupts with an eerie politeness. "I've enjoyed our little chat, and I'm sure we'll be doin' it again, very soon."

She hears the same laugh again, just before the line goes dead, leaving her staring at the closed door to her room. Speechless.

"He did what?!"

"Shh!" Bonnie brings her hands up to silence the shorter Beagle. "Would you keep it down?" She cranes her neck to see through the porch window, glad that anyone currently occupying the living room is still watching the television instead of eavesdropping. "It's not that big of a deal-"

"'Course it's a big deal!" Bigtime argues, jamming a thumb to his chest. "That rich old creep ain't got no business callin' my baby sister!"

"Stop shouting!" She grabs him by the arm, dragging him off the porch to distance themselves from the house. "What's the point of talking to you in private if yer just gonna keep yelling everything?"

"Well can ya blame me?" he says in a high whisper. "It's bad enough he made a deal with Bankjob but now he's tryin' to go through you, too?" He slaps a hand to his forehead. "Flinty must be goin' senile or somethin'!"

"How do ya think I feel? But that's not the worst of it." She begins to explain what he'd accused her of, as well as the proof he claimed to have. At seeing his eyes widen in shock, she nods. "My thoughts exactly."

"But. He's never even met you! How could he possibly know anything about you?!"

She shrugs. "Hey I'm just as weirded out as you are."

Bigtime pauses to think, then asking "this proof he's talkin' about; what is it?"

"Not sure. But we'll find out soon enough. He said something about sending it out here within the hour."

He exhales through his nose, his stern gaze set on the long driveway leading away from the Beagles' hideout. "Shouldn't be too much longer, then."

Bonnie rubs at her arm. "So what do we do?"

"Nuthin we can do, except wait." His eyes are on her again, now filled with concern at seeing her uneasiness. "Don't worry, kid. If Glomgold wants anything to do with you he's gotta get through me first."

Bonnie forces a small smile, feeling slightly better about the bizarre situation. If there was one person she could always count on, it was her big brother Bigtime. With this in mind, she decides to bring up her previous dilemma. She clears her throat.

"Big? There's, something else that I need to tell you." She forces herself to make eye contact with him, taking in a breath. "Before we left town, I made plans." When he looks to her quizzically, she adds "erm…date plans."

"A date, huh? Well good fer you." He's unable to hold back a smirk. "Don't let me stop ya."

"Thanks. But, it's a teensy bit more complicated than that." She shows the lack of space between her thumb and index finger to stress this. "The guy that asked me out is a really, really sweet guy and I've liked him for quite a while. So when the opportunity came up, I couldn't really say no."

Bigtime watches her actions carefully, taking note of the pleading look in her eyes. "Okay," he finally says.

"Okay…So, here's the thing." She bites at her bottom lip. "He asked if I would be his date to a charity event next week. Sort of a fancy dinner party, I guess."

"Uh huh." Bigtime crosses his arms.

"It wasn't until later that I'd figured out exactly where the event is being held." She cringes at seeing slight recognition on his face. "And that McDuck is hosting it."

"Hold up." Bigtime's eyes are wide as he points. "Your date is at Scrooge's charity event?"

Bonnie nods.

"In his museum?"

She nods again.

"In his money bin?!"

Another nod.

"Bon, you do realize that Bankjob's planning on hitting up that place, right?" He jabs a finger down in the center of his palm. "On that exact day?"

"Yeah since, like, twenty minutes ago," she argues. "I'm sorry but I didn't know, okay? I really wish I had, believe me; It would've changed everything. The last place I wanna be is in the middle of one of yer guys' McDuck schemes!" She pauses, watching as he pinches at the bridge of his nose, letting out an irritated sigh. Obviously now wasn't the best time to bring up what exactly her date did for a living. She decides to hold her tongue for the time being. "Seriously; I am sooo unbelievably sorry. I can just call it off, it's fine-"

"No no," he blurts, eyes still closed. "Don't go and do a thing like that. And you ain't got nuthin' to be sorry for. If anything, I'm the one that's sorry." He shrugs when she looks to him strangely. "Yer right; you don't need to be involved in this sorta stuff. But this means Bankjob won't be gettn' his way after all." He frowns. "So now we gotta listen to him complain about that."

"Wudda ya talkin' about? This works out perfectly!"

The two of them spin around, seeing the no longer empty porch now occupied by an ecstatic Bankjob Beagle. He holds out his arms as he comes down to join them.

Bigtime resists the urge to groan. "Do ya mind? We're tryin' to have a conversation."

"And miss hearin' this bit uh good news? Not a chance! C'mere you." He embraces Bonnie in an affectionate hug. "I am so proud uh you, kid!"

"Say what?" a stunned Bonnie replies, squirming in his tight embrace.

"All grown up n' tryin' to take on McDuck all by yer self." He gives an exaggerated sniff, looking to her fondly. "Seems like just yesterday you were learnin' to crack into yer first safe."

"Wuh." Bonnie shakes her head to clear the shock of his words. "Are you outta yer mind?!" She manages to push him away from her, eyeing him sternly. "What the hell are you talking about? I'm not going after Scrooge McDuck!"

"'Course you are. What other reason could ya have to make plans like that?"

"It's just, a date." She grits her teeth. "I didn't know it was gonna be at that stupid building!"

He shrugs. "Hey on purpose or not, it still works out great; with someone scopin' things out on the inside, we'll have a better chance of pullin' this thing off!" He ruffles Bigtime's hat. "Am I right, shorty?"

"No, yer wrong," he grumbles, swatting his hand away. "Bonnie's not gonna have anything to do with this."

"Why wouldn't she?" he asks. "This might be the best shot we've ever had at McDuck's piggy bank. I thought you were on board with this whole thing." It's his turn to glare. "And since when have you ever passed up on opportunities like this?"

"Since Bonnie is involved!" he shouts. "I'm not about to pull off a heist if there's a chance our sister will get mixed up in things."

"Wudda ya talkin' about? A Beagle has been offered an honest to God invitation to rub elbows with Scrooge McDuck. A Beagle! How is this a bad thing? Besides; Bonnie is the perfect candidate fer this. I mean look at 'er." Bankjob gestures to a disgruntled Bonnie. "She's about as innocent lookin' as they come! He'd never suspect a thing! Tell me I'm wrong-"

"Okay yer wrong. Again!" Bigtime points up at him accusingly. "Yer not about to take advantage of Bonnie's personal life just because it happens to be the perfect cover for an operation like this!"

Bonnie blinks down at him in surprise. "It does?"

"'Course it does," answers Bankjob. "It ain't often a chance like this pops up outta nowhere. Plus, you don't look nuthin' like the rest of us. No way Scrooge would peg you as a Beagle." He has to laugh. "If ya played yer cards right you could have access to every square inch uh that place and the old duck wouldn't bat an eye."

"Which she isn't, ever!" Bigtime projects. "She ain't got the same rap sheet we do, so she ain't gettn' involved! Get that through yer fat head!"

"Pssh, yeah," Bankjob scoffs, offering Bonnie a side glance before smirking down at him. "And who's fault is that, I wonder…eh, Bigtime?"

Bigtime's words catch in his throat. He shakes his head at his brother's smug expression.

Bonnie furrows her brow. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Oh that's right." Bankjob says, his casual tone laced with arrogance. "You might'uh been too little to remember that day-"

"Bank, don't."

"Why not?" Bankjob's grin only widens as the shorter Beagle looks to him desperately. "It ain't like she was never gonna hear about it. Besides, she's a big girl now. I think she can handle it."

"Bankjob, please-"

"Handle what?" Bonnie looks between the two of them. "What're you guys talking about?"

"Well ya see," the large thug began, clearly enjoying his brother's increasing discomfort at the long forgotten topic. "Back when you were a kid, some uh the boys were pullin' off a bank heist in Duckburg, but things got a little outta hand." He nods down at Bigtime. "Seems a certain someone wasn't entirely familiar with dynamite back then. Brought the whole damn place down. Coulda' killed someone…Almost did, too."

"Bankjob I'm beggin' ya. Don't do this-"

"No." Bonnie holds up a hand to Bigtime's plea, not breaking her questioning stare from Bankjob. "I wanna hear this."

"When you were little," he continues. "You used to hitch a ride with Ma so ya could be a part uh the action. Ya know; learn a thing 'er two. But sometimes, she'd tell ya to stay in the car and outta the way…seein' as how it was pretty dangerous at times." He shrugs. "Though you weren't really one fer doin' as you were told."

Bonnie stays quiet, throwing a glance over at Bigtime, seeing far too many emotions in his wide eyes.

"Apparently you'd snuck into the bank somehow and gotten trapped in the lobby whenever the charges went off." He felt a sudden pang of guilt at seeing her reaction to this. For some reason it hadn't really occurred to him that bringing up a traumatic event from his sister's childhood might not be worth making Bigtime uncomfortable. But it was too late to take anything back. "It was only by chance that Bigtime had gone back in. That's when he found ya."

Bonnie stares in silence for the longest time, ignoring Bigtime as he studies the gravel at his feet in shame. After a moment she finally shakes her head. "That's...not possible," she says. "That couldn't have happened. No, I...I would've remembered it."

"We're uh..." Bankjob clears his throat awkwardly. "We're pretty sure that's why ya never got into the family business." He pauses before adding "Somethin' about bein' so traumatic that yer mind blocks it out." He taps himself on the head. "Least that's what the doc said, anyway."

Bigtime's head snaps up.

"A doctor?" Bonnie asks. "What sort of doctor?" Her voice begins to crack. "Guys what...what happened to me?" She looks to the shortest of the two. "Bigtime?"

The frightened way she says his name was almost too heart wrenching to bear. He forces himself to look up at her, immediately wishing he hadn't; it was like looking into the eyes of that same frightened little girl he'd found in the smoldering rubble all those years ago.

"Bigtime?"

He shakes his head slowly, fighting the urge to glare over at the taller Beagle. "It's not what ya think, kid," he says calmly. "You weren't actually hurt that day. But…" He pauses, searching for the right words. "You weren't the same, either. It's like you'd become a whole different Bonnie." He nods over at the house. "After a few months of it bein' that way, Ma wasn't sure what to make of it...so the first chance she got, she took ya into Duckburg and found ya some professional help."

"What kinda help?" she blurts. "Like… like a shrink?"

He nods.

Bonnie goes quiet. After pacing around the dirt driveway and biting at her nails, she spins to face them; angry. "Why is this the first I'm hearing of this; that I was some kinda… basket case?"

"You weren't a basket case," Bankjob says with an eyeroll. He shrugs. "Just a little screwy, is all. It ain't that big uh deal." When her head swivels in his direction, glaring daggers at him, he immediately regrets opening his mouth in the first place.

"Not a big deal?" she breathes, striding up to him. "Not a big deal?!" she nearly screams, yanking the green cap from atop his head, pummeling him with it repeatedly.

"Ow! What the-Ah! Hey, knock it off! Ouch! Stop it!" He brings his arms up as a shield, though it isn't very effective. "It wasn't even my— ouch— my fault!" He tries to point. "Bigtime's the one that-"

"I go twenty-something years trying to figure out why I don't identify with the rest uh you bums and yer stupid obsession with McDuck's bin, and it turns out I had an emotional breakdown as a child?!" She continues to smack at him, even when he tries to evade her wrath by moving about the driveway in an attempt to serpentine away from her. "And it's not a big deal to you?!" She kicks at his shins. "Do you have any idea how horrible it is that I don't remember a good chunk of my life? That I could have suppressed memories?!"

"Whoa hey Bonnie!" Bigtime finally intervenes when Bankjob topples over onto the ground, nearly getting kicked in the groin. "That's enough, okay? Calm down!"

"Don't tell me-" She jerks her arm away from him. "-to calm down!" She points at him, taking in breaths of air. "Why didn't you tell me about this? Why did I go my whole life not knowing why I ended up being different from the rest of you?" She pauses to breathe deeply, actually attempting to control her anger, waiting for him to answer. When he doesn't she adds, "what happened to me?"

He can't keep looking her in the eye, never being able to stand seeing his baby sister cry; especially when he was the cause of those tears.

"Bigtime...answer me."

She doesn't scream this, though her shaky tone gives away the true level of fear and anger that wells up inside of her.

"How could you… you, of all people… keep this from me?"

"Because this ain't the life you were meant to live," Bigtime projects, almost a little too harshly. "You not turnin' out like the rest of us was the best thing to ever happen to you." He gestures between himself and a still miffed Bankjob. "Take a good look, kid; no self-respecting person would be caught dead walkin' around in our shoes. If ya ask me ya dodged one helluva bullet by not havin' to wear this stupid thing all the damn time." He jabs a finger at his mask.

"Hey." Bankjob had finished dusting himself off, replacing his hat while grumbling "I resemble that remark."

Bonnie hugs her arms, not breaking her sullen stare from Bigtime.

He looks on at her, rubbing at the back of his neck. When he continues, he tries to calm his own nerves by keeping his voice low. "Look… I'm sorry we never told you about what happened. I really am." He shakes his head. "It was just better for you not to even know about it. Because ever since then you've wanted to live yer own life; be yer own person." He makes an attempt to lay a hand on her shoulder, which she doesn't recoil from. "You know we'd never do anything to hurt you," he states gently. "We wanna see ya happy, Bon… even if that means you losing any memories ya had that made ya wanna be like the rest of us."

"But they're my memories." Bonnie pulls at her hair. "Even if there's a chance I didn't like them, it's still a part of who I am; who I was!" She shakes her head. "What if I'm not supposed to be like this?" She looks up at him, tears trailing down her cheeks. "What if I really was meant to… to… wuh-what's that noise?"

The siblings pause, listening intently as the usual calm of the surrounding forest is disrupted by a rapid thoom thoom thoom beating against the air in the distance.

"Sounds like a chopper." Bankjob's ears perk before nodding in recognition. "Yep; it's a chopper, all right."

"What's it doin' out here?" Bigtime searches the air above.

"Think it's the cops?"

"Could be," he answers. "But they've never flown a chopper out this far before. Not fer us, anyway."

"Maybe they're gettin' desperate to find us," Bankjob adds. "It's been awhile since they've even been lookn'-"

Bankjob's words are drowned out by the sudden appearance of a black helicopter swooping over the trees surrounding the clearing around them. Before they have time to react to it coming in for a landing, it doesn't. It's only in the air above them for mere seconds before it circles back around, heading in the direction it'd just come from; gone just as quickly as it had appeared, leaving behind three very confused Beagles.

"What the heck was that all about?" Bankjob projects after the sound of helicopter blades can no longer be heard. He shakes his head. "Prob'ly some rich mook showin' off a new toy."

"I don't think so." Bigtime points upward. "Look."

About fifty feet in the air above them is what looks to be a small green parachute, gently floating down to them, listing gradually to the left and then to the right. Attached to the shute's strings is a darker green rectangular box.

"Well how 'bout that," Bankjob lets out an amused chortle. "We ain't never got air mail before!"

Bonnie— after wiping her eyes and face dry— squints up at it. "Is that… an ammo can?" She takes a step closer to where it may be landing.

"Hold up, Bon." Bigtime grabs her by the wrist, not taking his eyes off the object. "It might be a bomb."

"What?" She actually laughs. "You can't be serious."

"Hey it wouldn't the first time somethin' like that's been dropped on a Beagle," Bankjob points out. "And it sure as heck ain't gonna be the last."

"But it's just an-"

Kr-clank, thud

Both brothers nearly jump out of their boots when the box makes contact with the ground and falls over onto its side. They dive head first into the dirt, holding their heads and bracing for some sort of explosion. Bonnie watches them for a moment, rolling her eyes.

"You two are ridiculous," she murmurs before strolling up to the metal container.

"It might have a sensor on it er somethin! Don't touch it!"

She ignores Bankjob's shrill warning, now standing over the box. She bends down and picks it up. She rotates it, inspecting all sides, trying to find some sort of note or symbol, only to come up empty handed. While still looking it over, she suppresses a small grin at the agitated grumbling from behind her as her brothers finally pick themselves up from the ground, brushing off their clothes before moving to stand on either side of her.

"What's it say?" Bankjob asks.

"Nothing." She shakes her head. "It's just a box." She hands it over to Bigtime, watching him look it over in a similar fashion before handing it back to her.

"It's gotta be that proof Flinty was talkin' about," he offers.

"Proof? What proof? Proof fer what?" Bankjob now eyes his brother with suspicion. "Are you goin' behind my back with this heist? Cuz it's mine." He jabs a thumb to his chest.

"This doesn't have anything to do with that," Bigtime groans. "And fer the last time; I already agreed to let you call the shots. Plus no one cares about yer stupid heist anyway, so it prob'ly won't even happen! Get over it, will ya?"

"I ain't gotta get over nuthin'! You do," he points. "Admit it. It drives you crazy that yer not the one in charge this time, and now yer stabbin' me in the back and makin' some kinda deal with Glomgold without me!"

"I could care less what you do with some harebrained scheme to take over McDuck's bin."

"Who you callin harebrained!"

"Cuz' that's what it is!" He stresses his point by counting off with his fingers. "An underthought, ill prepared, pointless, sad excuse for a bin heist that's ever been attempted by any Beagle in the history of anything! Not to mention ya picked the worst possible time to do something this drastic!"

"The heck's that s'posed to mean?"

"Anyone with half a brain can see yer plan is stupid! Ya don't actually expect to just wander around some rich, hoity-toity charity ball without someone peggin' ya fer a Beagle Boy, do ya?"

"They ain't gonna recognize anyone! I told ya, I got a foolproof plan to get us in and outta there, without Scrooge bein' any the wiser!"

"How? By blindfolded all the cops, cuz' the place is gonna be swarmin' with 'em, seein' as how it's bein' held in honor of the Duckburg Police Department! But I'm sure you already knew that, oh wise all knowing leader, since it was all over the papers this week!"

"Well, uh…Y-Yeah. Yeah! I knew that! I was just waitin' fer you to prove to me that you did!"

"Uh huh. Suuuure ya did, what with you bein' such a big reader an' all."

"I'm gettin' real sick uh yer attitude, shorty! Ya better start showin' me more respect if ya know what's good for ya!"

"Ooooo, I'm shakin' in my placard!"

"Guys?"

"Yeah yer a real tough guy! I would be too if I had muscle standin' at the ready! All ya gotta do is cry fer help and big bad Bouncer will come to ya rescue again. Ain't that right Lil' Big?"

"Guys-"

"Shut that fat mouth before I shut it for ya!"

"You ain't got the guts!"

"GUYS!"

Thier silence is instantaneous, nearly jolting to attention at the shrill voice echoing through the valley. Bonnie still has her back to them, gaze casted down at the box in her arms. The disgruntled brothers share a hateful glance before they take a step back from one another. They watch as she quietly reaches into the metal container, retrieving a small thin object, as well as a piece of paper. When the metal container falls to the ground, they can't help cringing at the noise.

"Now wuzzat really necessary?" Bankjob almost scolds, then gesturing. "That's a perfectly good ammunition canister. It'd be a waste to just up and bust it, ya know." He scowls at Bigtime for the odd look he gives him. "What?! It ain't weird! We got a lotta random bullets just layin' around the house! I'd be nice to have somewhere to put 'em!"

Bigtime holds his tongue, asking the woman in front of them "so what's in it?"

Bonnie slowly turns to face them, not breaking her stare from the thin black case open in her hands. Judging from her furrowed brow, she looked to be reading something. Though the words in front of her must not be making much sense. After what feels like an eternity of silence, she lifts her head up, staring off into the distance.

"Bon?" Bankjob asks, he and Bigtime actually exchanging a rare look of concern. "Bonnie?"

"You okay, kid?"

She finally stares at each of them, having forgotten they were even there. She looks back down at the piece of paper, then to her brothers again. "I... I um... " She shakes her head. "I don't know."

Bigtime sees the note about to flutter out of her hands before he snatches it up and brings it eye level, in the process seeing that the object in her hands is a black DVD case. When he reads the note for himself, Bonnie's reaction is more than understandable:

Ms Beagle,

They say a picture is worth a thousand words. Though whomever came up with that saying obviously never had the pleasure of seeing a movie. Or in this case, footage from a surveillance camera. Because if they had, they would've had quite a bit more words to say about you. I know I did. I'll be in touch.

-F.G.

"When I get my hands on that old creep- " He crumples the note into a ball, gritting his teeth. "-I'm gonna pluck ev'ry last dirty feather outta his loopy head!"

"It can't be that bad, " Bankjob grumbles, bending down to pick up the paper ball after Bigtime had thrown it onto the ground. He unravels it, taking a moment to read what's written, furrowing his brow once he reaches the end of the note. "What the heck... " He looks between an infuriated Bigtime and a still in shock Bonnie. "Someone wanna tell me what's goin' on around here?" He holds up the disheveled note. "Cuz I know blackmail when I see it!"

"We don't know yet," Bigtime answers. "But hopefully that, " he points to the case in Bonnie's hands. "Clears up whatever crap Flinty's tryin' to pull with Bonnie."

"With Bonnie?" He looks between them. "What does Glomgold want with Bonnie? She ain't got the same rap sheet we do."

"Yeah, we know." Bigtime swears under his breath. "Welcome to the conversation, dipshit."

"Why you little- "

"Is there a DVD player around here?"

They blink at the frantic question, both giving a shrug and regrettable head shake.

She studies the open case in her hands, eyeing the disc with a mixture of emotions. She finally nods to herself, snapping the case shut. "I need to go back into town," she states, already heading to the house.

"Back to town?" Bankjob questions. "But you were just there a few days ago. Whatta ya need- "

"I'll get the car ready," Bigtime says after following her. "You gather up whatever ya don't wanna leave unsupervised out here, including Jennifer."

"Right."

"Whoa whoa whoa, hold on sec!" Bankjob trots after them. "Seriously, stop keepin' me outta the loop, will ya? What's goin' on?"

"We'll explain later, Bank. I promise." Bonnie offers a glance down at Bigtime, adding, "and we're not done talking about what happened back there...you owe me some answers."

He almost blurts out the first words of defense that pop into his mind, but somehow restrains himself, instead offering a curt nod of agreement.

Flinty needs a hobby…like golfing. Old people golf, right? And he's Scottish, so that should be a given!

The next chapter is currently in the works so hopefully that will be up fairly soon. I'm trying to make it a rule that I won't post any more updates until I'm at least working on the next chapter. Thanks again for everyone who's still hanging in there, and start tuned...