(A/N): and like I said, they get better. I actually wrote this whole thing out in one night, which is unusual for me, as I usually take lots of time re-reading my work before submitting it. also, forgot to mention last story, flames are evil and I will have none of that….though I suppose if someone's holding a gun to your head or something crazy like that then I could let it slide.

(A/N): anyway, enjoy.

….

The sound of breaking glass stopped her. She was dead; Chief Barkley was going to kill her for sure this time. Inspector Carmelita Montoya Fox simply stared down at the shattered egg, the million dollar shattered egg. This would not bode well.

The night had started off like any other. Carmelita sat in her temporary office in London filling out paperwork on her most recent arrests. It had honestly been a slow night, and most of the other Interpol officers had gone home. Of course the local police force was never off duty, so radio calls still came into the office every few minutes. Carmelita was just finishing up her last paper when a particular call caught her attention. At first, it was just another 'be on alert' type of call, the kind that the police don't chase down unless they see it because for all they know, it's just a trick of a paranoid citizen's mind. But as the cops described the shadow someone had called in to report was hopping rooftops, Carmelita became positive she knew who the shadow was. She was in her car in less than 30 seconds, which was quite a feat considering she was on the third story of the building and had also managed to turn off her lights, lock her door, and not forget her trusty shock pistol.

She already knew what he would be after; a local museum was displaying the priceless artifact. The Egg of King Petro, as it was known, was a glass egg surrounded by gold, believed to be worth a million dollars in raw material exactly. Ok, so maybe 'priceless' was the wrong word. Of course exact price varied based on who you asked, king Petro was a lesser known king, few people even knew he or his country had existed, and few museums even considered the egg an artifact. Of course, the particular museum that did at the current moment also had large amounts of laser grid and spot light security. It would be a challenge for a thief to infiltrate. But the thief she was sure was on the job was just the kind of crook to take on such a challenge. And who was this thief? This roof-hopping shadow believed to be carrying something golden and believed to have a long, fluffy tail? Carmelita was sure it was none other than notorious international thief, Sly Cooper.

Of course, her regular back-up was already off duty, and because Sly wasn't in the museum yet, the regular cops wouldn't provide any back up. This irritated Carmelita, who was determined to see Sly behind bars that night, just like every time they had a run-in. With anyone else she would have made sure she at least had back-up on call, so if things got too hairy, she could get some covering fire. But Cooper had never been very violent, and she was sure he wouldn't hurt her in any way other than continuing to be a pain in the tail. He tended to rely on his cunning and charm more than his combat. So as she arrived, she walked into the museum alone, with only her shock pistol to support her.

As she had half-way expecting, the lasers and spot lights had been shut down, most likely by that brainy turtle of the Cooper gangs…Bentley was it? It didn't matter to her, she would have Sly behind bars soon enough. She quickly moved through the museum to the egg room, where all her suspicions were confirmed. Standing by the closed egg case (which now held a blue and white calling card), holding the prized egg, was none other than the raccoon thief himself, Sly Cooper.

"FREEZE RINGTAIL!" the vixen shouted as she held her shock pistol up to try and intimidate Sly into surrendering. Honestly, the crooks almost NEVER froze, but it was a natural reaction.

"Why Carmelita, we simply must stop meeting like this." Sly said in playful banter, his usual cocky under fire nature showing.

"Your right Sly, how 'bout we start meeting up in my interrogation room back at headquarters instead." She began inching closer to Sly.

"Hum, sounds tempting, but I'm afraid I'm going to have to pass." Sly said, cracking an even wider grin than he already had.

"How about you surrender before my shock pistol has to join in on this conversation." The vixen returned, raising her shock pistol just a bit higher.

"I don't think it will be talking much this time."

"What do you mean Cooper?"

"Well, the way I see it, this egg is as fragile as, well, an egg. And if I'm stunned by the 'words' of your shock pistol, it might become King Petro's omelet."

Cooper had a point. If she shot him with the shock pistol, the egg would be on the ground. But at the same time, she couldn't let him leave with it. With no backup that could possibly arrive in time, and no other plans, she had done the only thing she could think of.

"Give it Cooper!" Yes, she lunged for the egg, grabbing it and trying to pry it from his grip. Sly naturally resisted, so Carmelita naturally kept fighting for it. The incident was almost like when two little kids fight over a stuffed toy. And much like the stuffed toy, the fight ended with said object destroyed. Being of the egg shape, the egg was rather round, and also quite smooth. It was hard to grip, and after only a few pulls back and forth, they both lost their grasp on it.

Which brings us back to our current situation. "COOPER!" the vixen was now furious, knowing she would get blamed for this.

"Well, looks like its time I make my exit." And with that, Sly made for the door. Carmelita wanted to put two shock pistol shots in him this time, just for good measure. Sadly to go for the egg, she had dropped her weapon, the opposite direction of the door Sly ran too. By the time she picked it up, it was too late.

Carmelita looked at the shattered remains of the shattered egg. The green glass and gold terming now broken into a million pieces by the hard tile floor. She looked at…..wait. 'there was real gold on the egg' Carmelita though, 'it wouldn't have shattered like glass when the egg fell. And Cooper wouldn't have taken the time to shut the cabinet if he was going to make a dash with the egg.' Realization hit Carmelita like a van, a convenient metaphor, as a van happened to be driving by the window at the time.

But this wasn't any van; it was the van of the Cooper gang. And in the front passenger seat was none other than Sly Cooper, holding the real Egg of King Petro. It had been an elegant ruse, switch the eggs, then have Carmelita fight for it. it was an un-necessary ruse, but this was the kind of thing Sly did when he was sure Carmelita was in town at the time.

Carmelita was dead. Not dead for breaking the egg, but still, as usual, dead. 'Barkley is so going to demote me this time' Carmelita though to herself before shouting to the art of the museum and all the havens themselves the one thing her lungs could force out at that moment.

"COOOOPPPPPERRRRRRRRRRR!"

…...

(A/N): just a quick idea I had. I got the first line from a website that gives you a bunch of stuff to help with short story writing. (I think it's called: short story ideas. Google that and you should find it.) anyway, reviews of positive or constructive criticism are always welcome.