I think that's enough reviews to get me started on the official chapter one. Thanks a lot for the positive criticism and I have noticed the spelling errors, but every time I try to change them...they just won't come up the official story. Anyway, this entire story is not my OC's POV, it's going to by a first person POV of Sly, kind of like cut scenes but melded with the actual playing. I actually see it as the narration like in comic books.

P.S. Can you please imagine it like the cartoons.

P.P.S. Sly is still annoyed about Wily stealing something before him.

P.P.P.S. Wily isn't better than the gang, they're equals, she's just cocky.

Chapter 1: Double double! Toil and trouble!

An obscure new moon night is certainly a thief's soul mate...or at least an occasional movie date. The pitch black darkness veiling the Heinous Auction House in Sydney was perfect for the heist. After all, Lawrence Heinous deserved to be robbed by the great Cooper Gang: the Heinous family have been stealing from archaeologists for generations, killing them and then take credit for their discoveries, Larry there has been carrying on the family tradition. Everyone saw him as a kind, generous, and popular outback dwelling Indiana Jones-like archaeologist happy to give away his 'discoveries' for a large price. But here's a little secret; he's a total fraud, all an act for good publicity. Even his Australian accent is fake. Well, I was going to give him a taste of his own medicine. But this wasn't just about Heinous; he also had something I knew would bring disastrous results: the Clockwerk tail feathers. Months ago, the Clockwerk parts were taken by the Klaww Gang and their mole, Constable Neyla, betrayed them to keep the parts to herself and become 'Clock-La'. Luckily, the gang and I took out the main source of power: the Hate Chip, leaving the parts rusted, weakened and detached, taking down Neyla's life. And to think she would make a great girlfriend if she wasn't a back-stabbing coward. Anyway, when the cops arrived to claim their evidence...the parts were taken by Doctor Ian Sane, a complete nut job with both science and surgery who wanted immortality badly. While Sane had the parts, he modified them before becoming good as new...and better, and recreated a superior Hate Chip. When he was about to put the parts together, they disappeared once more. I should know...I snuck into his castle to steal the parts until I saw they taken by somebody else; the Cutthroat Crew, and Heinous just happens to be a member. He claimed to the public that the tail feathers were charms of an ancient Native American princess's headdress tiara he 'found' he recently used as an item of display at his auction house. And they all believed him! Once I saw his announcement on TV, I knew instantly I had to get the tail feathers back. With them on display, any criminal could steal them to rebuild Clockwerk's body or even buy them off Heinous's greedy hands to do so...that's why I had to get them first.

"Sorry we're late, Sly. The Murray couldn't drive through traffic." The magenta hippo at the wheel of the stick-shift van apologised, fiddling with his red gloved fingers.

Ever since the Clock-La incident, Murray blamed himself for Bentley's legs getting paralysed, and soon enough blamed himself for every little mistake. I kept telling him it was Neyla's fault and not his. But he just wouldn't listen. Thank god for webcams or otherwise we wouldn't be able to talk to Bentley and he wouldn't able to give us heist plans at all since he was still at the hospital.

"It's alright, buddy. Just meet me at the rendezvous point when I'm done, this shouldn't take long." I replied reassuringly, grabbing my cane and opening the back van doors.

"You might need to make it shorter, Sly," a nasally and austere voice came out of the van's speakers, I turned around and saw a familiar glasses-wearing green turtle on a computer screen, "From I'm seeing by the traffic cameras' live surveillance footage on my laptop screen, an undercover Interpol car is heading its way to the auction house. They're on to us, Sly! We've got to abort! Now!"

"No way, Bentley. It's probably just Carmelita; my little groupie simply wants to have a flirt with me."

"Yeah, your groupie sure does want to flirt with you while you're at gun point." Bentley sarcastically muttered.

"How do you know it's an undercover Interpol car?"

"I just told you how. I saw it with the traffic camera. Honestly, you just don't listen to me much, do you?"

"That is true. But what I meant was that undercover cars usually look like normal cars, how did you know it was an Interpol car?"

"A siren was placed on the roof. It kept going weeee-errrrrrrrr-weeeeee-errrrrrrr-weeee-errrrrrrrr-weeeeee-errrrrrrr-weeee-errrrrrrrr-weeeeee-errrrrrrr-"

"I get it, Bentley. It was a loud siren." I smiled, "Wish me luck."

"You don't need luck, you got me."

"Boastful much? But then again, that is true. Luck is not needed."

I stepped out and closed the doors. I overheard through the metal that Murray was apologising to Bentley, but Bentley kept assuring him that it wasn't his fault. Poor Murray. I climbed onto the van's roof, sprung up into the air and landed silently onto a building's roof. I jumped onto a telephone wire and ran along it until I was above the Heinous Auction House. Although it was a dim night, the view was still...beautiful. All the lights of the city, including the Harbour Bridge and the Opera House, were illuminating against the black sky and the inky water. The reflection of the lights looked like the Northern Lights were brought down to the ground. But there was no time to admire the city, I had to keep moving. I leapt off the wire, somersaulted in mid-air to keep airborne (and to look cool I must admit), and landed safely on the auction house's roof, being next to the sky light.

I pulled my binocucom up to my eyes as I felt it vibrate, signalling to me that Bentley was calling, "This is The Spock. What's your status, Bad Hat?"

"This is Bad Hat. I'm on the roof top now, Spork." I responded in a whisper. Bentley used codenames he made up. At least Bad Hat was better than the codename before that: Sitting Duck. It sounded more like a schoolyard nickname.

"Not Spork. Spock! As in the science and first officer on the Enterprise! The brilliant and tall half turtle, half Vulcan!"

"Bentley, you know I don't watch Star Wars."

"Star Trek."

"Star Wars, Star Trek. It doesn't matter; they're both the same thing."

"Both the same thing? Are you nuts? Star Trek started as a television series in the sixties, set in a distant future on the Starship Enterprise whose purpose is to explore new planets and civilizations! Star Wars was a movie series made in the seventies, set in the past and in another galaxy; about a war between the evil Galactic Empire and the fighting-for-peace Rebels!"

"Oookaay, so they're not the same thing?"

Bentley simply glowered at me on the binoucom's screen until I spoke, "Fine. Just please tell me where the tail feathers are and what's the security like."

He took a deep breath to calm himself down, "The tail feathers are in the Display Hall, which is just in the room with the skylight you're standing next to. The room is filled with motion sensing surveillance cameras, moving laser beams, heat sensitive tiles."

"Meaning the usual?"

"Yep, pretty much."

"Figures. Either this Heinous guy likes the classic security system or is an idiot."

"Maybe both." I heard Murray say in the middle of the communication, as if he was shrugging.

"I'm sure he's an idiot. He built a glass skylight right above the tail feathers; doesn't he know thieves like me could get through it?"

This time Bentley spoke, "Just be glad he did put a skylight otherwise you would be stuck outside."

I slipped the binocucom away and tiptoed to the top of the skylight, drawing a body-sized circle in the glass with the sharp point of my cane. I pulled the glass circle out of the skylight and slid my arm through the hole. I threw the glass disc like a Frisbee at a camera, smashing the little black recording box into pieces. I slipped through the hole and forced myself to slide down the wall to land on top of another camera. I smashed it with my cane before moving on to the next camera, avoiding the moving laser beams. I repeated this pattern till I made it to the top of the block-like glass display case and was ready to steal the tail feathers with ease…that was before something went terribly wrong.

"Bentley, we have a problem." I whispered, communicating with the binocucom.

His slurred voice buzzed through one of my ears, "You man a small problem like you losing your blue hat, or a big problem involving the heist going terribly wrong."

"Wait, how come losing my hat is a small problem? Never mind, the tail feathers…they're gone."

Before Bentley could reply, I heard footsteps passing the Display Hall's doorway: high heels and hiking boots. The awful Australian accent overusing the country's slangs must've came from the owner of the hiking boots, "I must say Miss Shelley, you sure a beaut Sheila, too right! I'm very in-arsed to be with you. You and I are both spunks, and that ain't a porky. Mate, you lookin' fine in that feather tiara. How about we have a pash in my office?"

"Oh, Lawrence," The owner of the high heels giggled, "I have no idea what you're saying…but, okay. Tell me that story again, the one where you fight off trolls to get back the crystal skull and saved the president."

I understood one word amongst the slangs no Australian had ever used: feathered tiara. Heinous had given his dinner date a chance to wear the Clockwerk tail feathers. It was official, Lawrence Heinous was an idiot. I snuck behind the couple in the shadows of the hallway and followed them down to the office. They went in before I stood outside the doorway, waiting for my opportunity while against the wall.

"Sly, where are you? I lost visual." Bentley's voice vibrated out of my binocucom.

"I'm outside Heinous's office; he's in there with some girl and the tail feathers."

"Oh no! This is outside of the plan! We're doomed! The tail feathers should've been in the Display Hall!" Bentley sounded he was hyperventilating and having asthma at the same time, even he had neither.

"Relax; you don't want to alarm the nurses. It's just a little mishap; I'll find a way in. Besides, you wouldn't be doomed given that you're in the hospital."

"Thanks for the grim reminder." Bentley moaned.

Before I could make my move, someone strolled down the hall and made her way into the office. It was a young black cat with chestnut brown rings around her yellow eyes, wavy bluish-black extra-fur with bangs, and a skinny tail. She wore a black tailcoat, a purple top, dark jeans, and black boots. She winked directly at me right when she was entering the office, like she knew I was there even though I was hidden. My head peered in the doorway a little and I saw everything that was happening in the golden and overly furnished office. Lawrence Heinous, the grey and tall rat, sat at his desk: wearing a brown fedora, brown leathered clothes stuffed with tissues to make himself look like he was actually muscular, and held a whip in a paw. Standing next to him was a blonde mouse wearing a red revealing dress…and the tail feathers on her head in a beaded band. The black cat stood on the other side of the desk. It seems I missed some of the starting conversation.

Once again, Heinous spoke in his terrible Australian accent, "Ah, G'day, Constable. What brings you here, mate. Me and Shirley were just going to have a barbie at my house. Boy, ain't she a beaut."

"Cut the accent, Larry. I know the whole 'generous and adventurous archaeologist' deal is just an act. We need to talk." The black cat flatly groused.

"OMG! It's an act!" Shirley dumbly gasped.

Heinous took off his hat, then his jacket with all of his stuffing to show off his real scrawny body, and took out a cigar, lighting it up while grumbling with his true gruff American voice, "Aren't you a little young to be an Interpol officer?"

The black cat held up her badge, "I'll ask the questions around here, Heinous. I know you're part of the Cutthroat Crew, being part of their various crimes. Not to mention you and your family have been killing archaeologists, taking their discoveries, and claiming them as your own. I have proof. Those feathers Shirley Shelley is wearing are stolen evidence of the Clock-La event. You're under arrest."

"Now look here, kitty cat! I may be a crook, but that tiara with the feather charms belonged to a Native American princess that I actually found!"

"Oh, please! What kind of bimbo would believe that story?"

Shirley pulled off the 'tiara' and sobbed, "This isn't the tiara of the great Pocagawea!"

The black cat cynically mumbled, "Wow, big shocker."

Heinous stood up slowly, admitting defeat, "You got me. I'm a total fraud and a crook. I turned out like my family, like my mama. Go ahead and arrest me."

The black cat shrugged and pulled out two sets of hand cuffs: she locked one pair on his wrists and the other around his ankles. She turned her head over to Shirley, "I'll have to confiscate that evidence."

Shirley, still sobbing, obediently nodded and handed over the tiara.

The black cat plucked all three tail feathers out of the beaded band. She grinned deviously at Heinous, "Man, I can't believe you fell for a fake Interpol badge."

"WHAT?" Heinous screech, attempting to break free out of the handcuffs. The black cat gently placed an onyx figurine of a sitting cat with a broad smile made of diamonds, it soon made sense to me and Heinous, "You're Wylleighina Cheshire, Tom Cheshire's daughter and partner in crime of con artistry and thievery!"

"Yes, but don't call me 'Wylleighina'. It's too damn long. Just Wily."

"I always thought you would be a lot older. You know, nineteen or maybe twenty one. And where's your father."

"I think sixteen is a suitable age. After all, I've been doing this from the time when I could walk. And I can drive…sure, with fake licenses. But I'm still old enough to drive. And it doesn't matter if Pop is here or not…I have the Clockwerk tail feathers."

"GUARDS!"

In a matter of second, bulky dingo guards swarmed into one little office, standing behind Wily. Her tail was twitching with nervousness, but the rest of her stayed calm. She bent one of the tail feathers into an arch and threw it up into the air. The guards were distracted by the flying feather, they watched it flew straight through the chandelier's rope; it snapped it and forced the chandelier to plummet on top of the mob of guards. They were all knocked out cold. The tail feather flew back into Wily's paw like a boomerang and she bent it back to its original shape. I had no idea why a teenage cat would want a Clockwerk part, but I assumed it wasn't at all pleasant.

"Really, Heinous. Buff dumb guards. You really are dumb." Wily yawned, "Now if you'll excuse, I'm tired and ready for bed. Good night."

She walked over both the chandelier and unconscious guards, and headed out of the office…only to be knocked out by my cane.

"Really, Sly? You kidnapped a teenage girl?" Bentley groaned on the van's computer screen, it sounded ridiculous to me too.

"Or should I say 'catnapped'! The Murray has nailed it!" He joked and held up a hand for a high five. Seeing he needed all the confidence he could get after the Clock-La incident, I gave him a small high five.

Bentley wasn't easily amused, "Sly, for years the only crime we've done is steal…among other things. And kidnapping is certainly not one of them; I don't want to start now!"

"Sorry, guys. But she held onto the tail feathers pretty tightly, so I had to take the feathers with me. We'll just drop her off somewhere and continue searching for the improved Clockwerk parts. Piece of cake." I looked down at Wily sleeping on our van's floor.

"That reminds me, do we have cake?" Murray asked after his stomach grumbled.

"Fine, Sly." Bentley whinged, "But I'm still annoyed that I went through a lot of planning and security data to get the heist done…all this mangy cat did to get the tail feathers was pretend to be a cop!"

"I'm not pleased someone got to the feathers before me, but at least we have them." I calmed Bentley down.

Murray noticed something shiny sticking out of Wily's back-pack and pulled it out, "Guys! Look what I found! A DVD! I knew we should've brought popcorn."

Curious to see what was on the DVD, we placed it in the DVD player slot of the computer and started to play it. Bentley also watched it by having the DVD's film transmitted to his laptop. The screen began to show a wiry chestnut brown cat wearing a tuxedo in an alley; I think he was holding the video camera.

"Hi, Wylleighina. It's Pop, here with my first video journal entry." He grinned, showing pearly white teeth and fangs.

Next a completely black cat with long wavy extra-fur in a purple silk dress came up next to the chestnut brown cat…she looked very similar to Wily, "Tom, the point of a video diary is to tell your daughter about your heists after they happen, not during them."

"And this is your very critical mum, Katarina. If she's already there with you then I don't think I needed to make the introduction. If not, say she and I are divorced or she's dead, then here she is. Your mum, Kat."

"Aren't you forgetting something?" a voice eerily similar to mine said, the owner being out of the camera's shot.

Tom slapped his forehead, "Oh right. And here are your godparents and gang members, Connor and Mika. You might have already met them, and if not…well, here they are."

Tom turned the camera to a white female raccoon with brown markings, a pink nose, and curly brown extra-fur in a ponytail, dressed in a black sequined dress. And a male raccoon wearing a tuxedo with a normal tie instead of a bow tie, he uncannily resembled me…except he looked ten years older. My parents!

I didn't know how long I held my breath in a gasp when I heard my dad speak again, "I meant that this video diary thing is also for my little boy Sly. Sly and your daughter are sharing the DVD…even though they couldn't share anything between each other without having a fight."

"It's not a video diary, it's a video journal. Journals are for manly yet passionate writers, diaries are for unicorn and fairy loving little girls."

"It's a video diary seeing as you are a unicorn and fairy loving little girl." Dad snorted, making a snarky comment.

Mum was being a bit impatient, "Come on, are we going in or what?"

The camera turned its attention to the end of the alley, where a van parked outside and a faint yet large silhouette emerged out of it. The shadow ran down the alley and as it came closer, the identity was revealed: a purple walrus covered in tattoos, carrying a black kitten only 9 or 11 months old dressed in overalls and a five year old grey raccoon in blue and yellow. Jim McSweeny, Wily and me!

"Sorry I'm late," Jim panted, "But Sly got his sticky fingers on the keys again."

"Keys!" little five year old me squeaked, "Jingle!"

"That's my boy." Mum grinned, "You were right, Con, maybe he did inherit more of your side."

Dad grinned back, "At least he has your eyes. Which reminds me, you look fetching this evening."

"Fetching?" Mum's voice scoffed, "What are you? 100? But it's still sweet."

My parents made their way in for a kiss, the camera turned back to the Chershires before we could see anything. "Okay, we don't want to show the mushy stuff to the kid unless we would want them to throw up."

Kat shrugged, "Yeah, romantic mushiness has never been our thing. Anyway, Tom, Connor, Mika, and I are going to this fancy ball to steal a Monet from an illegal bombs dealer."

"Just a small one." Tom kept two of his fingers an inch apart.

The camera turned back to my dad who was no longer kissing, "He means both the Monet and the dealer are pretty small in size. While we commence our plan, Jim's going to wait at the rendezvous point with the younger you and-"

"Wily!" Little me yapped.

The camera spun back to record Tom, "Sly is still learning how to talk; he's having trouble saying your name. So he accidentally called you Wily, for short. I like it, it's catchy and meaningful. I'm going to have to turn off the camera during the progress of the heist. See ya, Wily."

The camera's footage was cut off, but turned back on to show Wily's parents in the back of a limousine, my Dad holding the camera while at the front end of the long sofa and Mum, who was driving the limo.

"Good morning, afternoon, or evening, Sly…depending on what time it is when you're watching this. Wily's probably watching this too, soooo…hi, Wily. You two might be asking why we're in a limo and not the van, we had a little mishap." Dad hesitated.

The limo stopped at a traffic light and Mum pulled the camera over to her face, "Oh no it isn't. A little mishap was when Alexander Graham Bell accidentally spilt acid on his lap. This is a total disaster like the Titanic sinking!"

"Seriously, how do you know those things?"

"I told you, I like general knowledge."

Tom pulled the camera (still on Dad's hand) around to have it record the view of him and Kat. "Let me tell you what happened by what Jim told me through my ear piece, Wily. Sly was playing with the lock mechanism button of the keys, only until you got jealous. And then you two fought over the keys, they flew out of the thin gap between the window glass and the top line of the edge…locking you, Sly, and Jim in the van. The van has been towed its way to the dump, ready to be squashed into a cube."

"Yes, thank you for the disturbing mental image of our kids and Jim being squashed into a cube!" Kat sardonically snarled.

Almost instantly, Tom changed the subject, "And we stole one of the guests' limos. Why can't I drive the limo? Or Connor?"

The question somehow made both Mum and Kat laugh uncontrollably, Kat took deep breaths to talk to the camera, "Wily, here's a word of advice: don't ever let your father drive. He drives like a grandma with a spasm."

Mum pulled the camera (again, still on Dad's hand) around to give it a view of her and Dad, "Same thing goes for you, Sly. Con is not as slow or jolty as Tom; he drives a simple van like a speeding bumper car. There was this one time when we're casing this mansion-"

"Please, Mika. He doesn't need to hear that story." Dad whined, pinching his nose bridge.

"Sure he does. Every child needs to hear an embarrassing story about their dad from their mum. Anyway, Jim was sick; so after your father stole this forger's statue, he drove the van…WAIT! I can use visual effects!"

"Oh, god."

"Shut up," Mum formed her paw into a fist close to Dad's arm, "Picture my fist as the van and your dad's arm as the mansion's right building wall." Mum repeatedly punched Dad's arm, "He kept crashing into the wall for almost two hours."

"You're not going to keep doing this for that long, are you?"

"Maybe."

"Mika."

"Yes?"

"The red light stopped, it's now a green light."

Mum started driving the limo and the camera was turned around to Tom, "I'm going to turn it off again as we're nearly there. Don't worry, Cooper Gang to the rescue…wow, that sounded really cheesy. Never mind, let's hope you're not dead."

And the footage was cut off again. Obviously we didn't get squashed into a cube and the gang celebrated. The rest of the DVD were more video journal entries about the gang's heists and travels, and with every entry, I unlocked a new memory each time that I seemed to have buried long ago. I remembered that ever since Dad found out Dr M, the former brains of the original Cooper Gang, was really after the Cooper fortune, he kicked him out (but heartbroken a friend betrayed him) and needed a replacement. Fortunately, Dad was already married to Mum during then and she was friends with Kat since high school, and Kat was married to Tom then, too. At one night Mum and Kat finally brought their husbands around when they were meeting up again for coffee. Dad and Tom got to know each other and found out they were more than just the 'wife's best friend's husband' to each other, they became best friends and Tom became the new official brains of the original Cooper Gang as he was already a world class con artist and thief, capable of planning complex heist plans with complicated cons. Mum and Kat joined the gang next because Dad was still needing someone for demolitions and someone for computer stuff. Mum: computer stuff. Kat: demolitions. When Wily and I were born, the gang would take us on their travels. As we grew, Wily and I would play with each other as little kids. Even Jimmy would play with us like an uncle. I couldn't believe I didn't remember her or the Cheshires. The Coopers and the Cheshires became incredibly close; enough to make Wily's parents my Godparents and visa-versa. But the entries stopped once I was eight, and with good reason. The Fiendish Five, including Clockwerk, killed my parents at that final year. With Mum and Dad gone, the gang separated. I knew Jim turned himself in to the police, but I had no idea about Tom, Kat and Wily. Bentley searched for the Cheshires' files and he definitely found plenty. After Dad's death and the gang separation, Tom began stealing and playing cons on criminals alone like he used to, with Kat looking after Wily. Sadly, Katarina Cheshire passed away by an unknown and suspicious cause when Wily was five. Within time, Wily tagged along on Tom's heists and became his right hand man/partner in crime, pulling off some of the biggest con oriented heists on master criminals…but they sometimes involved my kind of thievery and infiltration when necessary. They typically preferred using persuasive tricks than their hands. That part I frankly didn't like about the Cheshires. I mean, where's the fun in stealing if there isn't the adrenaline rush thieves search for?

"Cooper? Is that you?" Wily was waking up. About time too, she had some explaining to do.