It began as a game, really.

She knew she could; she'd pulled off similar feats so many times before. Had lost track of all the pockets she'd emptied, locks she'd picked, rooms she'd entered and just as quickly vacated, prize in paw, with no one any the wiser. It had almost become too easy by this point.

So she didn't do it for the challenge. Or the acquisition. His boots, while high quality, comfortable, and yes, the namesake of a legend, weren't an object of envy. She had her own pair, after all, and they fit her perfectly. His hat, worn at that rakish angle, with its flamboyant feather, wasn't her style either; given the choice, she preferred something more subtle. (In attire, if not toms.) After all, one could hardly slink around in the shadows, an art she had perfected by this point, with her dark coloring and graceful maneuvers.

No. She was neither intimidated by the risks involved, or tempted to keep the objects she snatched from him. What she sought was far more elusive.

Amusement.

For so long, she had focused on the hunt. Take this, snatch that, and move on to the next thing. Accept your reward. Bite and kick and thrash, anything to escape when betrayal reared its ugly head, as it always seemed to do, sooner or later. Clutch your sore paws to your aching heart, and try to fill all the holes inside with a morsel of food tucked in some forgotten corner. A saucer of milk left out for a pampered house pet. A sassy attitude, unsheathed and deadly, like the claws that still burned, even in their absence.

And then...

He changed everything, really. What started as a decidedly unfriendly professional rivalry swiftly turned into a grudging partnership-turned-kinship-turned-friendship.

A love story.

She didn't know why, really. He represented the opposite of everything she was looking for (was she looking for someone?) Proud, fierce, flamboyant, and willing to risk everything to get what he needed. What he wanted.

Okay. Maybe they had that in common.

She could hardly believe it when he said he needed her. Wanted her. Who had ever wanted her, just as she was? Without trying to change her? Break her? Strip her of all the things that didn't fit into their perfectly ordered world?

She had opened her mouth to ask him all these questions. But he had tucked his paw underneath her chin, raised it to his lips, and silenced her in the sweetest way possible. Made her a promise. Set a date. And she began to believe she might be enough.

Until the day she waited at the altar, a blushing bride-to-be. Everyone who mattered was there, anticipating the beautiful, simple ceremony that would soon bind them together like the joining of a steel blade with its hilt.

Everyone but him.

She knew he wouldn't be there. Prayed he would. Wasn't surprised that he wasn't.

So she ran back to her world of treasures and trophies and ill-gotten gains, and before long, she began to wonder if she'd dreamed the whole thing. Until he turned up like bad pesos and boys are wont to do.

She wasn't prepared for the anger that bubbled up inside when he flirted with her, casually, as if nothing had happened. Or the way her hind leg whipped out, clouting him square in the head.

She wasn't prepared for the way everything and everyone seemed bound and determined to throw them together again.

She wasn't ready to hear his quiet, humble confession of love, regret, fear, self-doubt. To see the cracks in the legend's armor. To feel the walls around her heart crumbling again.

To hear his pledge of devotion and see the proof with her own eyes. Someone who would stare down his greatest fear and fight with everything he had for one more chance, however long it lasted. Who would sacrifice what he thought he wanted for the one he'd never stopped wanting.

Her.

She was loved. She didn't need to stalk, search, pursue what was already hers. For the first time in her life, she didn't have to wonder where she stood.

So that was why she continued to play the game. It was fun.

She had taken his hat and boots from him on multiple occasions (never his weapons, she knew better than that). He would stride forward with that confident swagger he had never quite lost, only set aside for a time, reaching up to tip his hat at a passing acquaintance, only to rake his paw over his forehead and find her modeling his hat for him, eyelids lowered flirtatiously.

Or he'd leap up onto a rooftop, laughing as she scampered after him. He'd stop to lean casually against a chimney, a teasing grin on his lips, only to glance down at his bare feet, then over his shoulder to two or three buildings ahead, where she dangled his missing footwear like a toy on a string.

Even better than simply stealing his gear were the moments when she was able to replace them. The boots, with big poofy slippers, flowerpots, or horseshoes; the hat, with a nightcap, a lady's flowered bonnet, or a metal bucket. He would cross his arms over his chest and give her a disapproving glower she knew he didn't mean. Still, she'd allow the false expression of ire, because she knew it hid his amusement, embarrassment, and admiration for her.

And so it went. She snatched, he caught her, repeat. She would play this game as long as she could, because she'd already won.

Her paws curled around the brim of his hat as she set it on her head once again, feeling the fronds of its feather thread between her whiskers. An hour ago, she'd left him in the land of dreams, fast asleep in the sunshine, a drowsy Perrito curled up next to him. She smiled to herself. A long night of fast paced travel (not by choice - was it ever?) had taken its toll on the cat who was no longer a kitten and the little dog who loved excitement.

She startled as the hat shifted to one side, batting at the crown to push it back into place. As it shifted, something small and round slipped out from inside. She grabbed at the object before it fell onto the ground, and raised it up to eye level. A small black box, soft on the outside. "I didn't see this in the baron's vault..."

"Because it wasn't."

She turned. He had managed to sneak up on her, something that didn't happen often, even with him. "In the desk, then? Or the strongbox? Have you been holding out on me?" she teased. Another sign of how comfortable she felt around him. A year ago, a month ago, her words would have been tinged with bitterness and hurt. Now, she held out the hat and the box to him, offering her trust along with it.

He shrugged."You could say that." Taking the hat back, he removed the box and pressed it into her paw, gently folding her toes around it, then stepped back. "Temporalmente. Go ahead, open it." As she looked back and forth between the box and him, he shifted nervously from side to side, turning his hat around in his paws. A loud swallow. "Please."

She pushed up on the box's lid and gasped. A small silver ring set with a deep blue sapphire gleamed in the first rays of sunrise. She smiled as a single tear dribbled down her cheek. The gem was cut in the shape of a star.

She lowered her lashes. He dropped his hat and crossed the distance, removed the ring from the box and slid it onto her toe. He grasped her paw, kissing it.

She rested her forehead on his. "You didn't have to buy...I-I liked the other one just fine."

He scoffed. "Phhh! That silly dandelion? Ridiculous!" He waved a paw in dismissal. His gaze drifted down towards the ring, then back up at her. "Plants wither. They die, mi amor. This? This little estrella, our love, it will shine until the whole world is a blackened cinder!" His voice softened. "You've stolen my heart, querida. Bravo." He kissed her cheek and took her in his arms. "Didn't I already tell you you're all the wish I want?"

She blushed. "Yes. Yes, you did."