Summary: The morning following Carmelita's birthday.
Sly had woken up that morning to find that he was still there, and that he had, in fact not imagined the events of last night. But, as he turned his head to see if his lover was still there, lo and behold, she wasn't. He didn't know what time it was, and he was under the impression she had gone to work, and perhaps left him there to let himself out. He sighed, and got himself up out of her bed, clothed himself, and walked through the open door.
Most of the decorations were still up, except for a few banners or streamers they had torn down, probably while he was guiding the both of them to the room. As he went to get his cane and leave, he saw that Carmelita was still there. She sat at the table, a cup of coffee on the table. She had the book he had given her open and on the table, and she was definitely reading it. She looked up as she heard Sly come in, and smiled.
"Morning, Ringtail," she said.
"Morning, Carm," he replied. He went rummaging through her cabinets again with the intent of making himself a cup of coffee. He got another one of her mugs, and poured a cup for himself out of the pot, before moving to sit opposite her at the table.
He couldn't help but notice the picture on her mug. It was his calling card, but she had drawn an X over each eye to give the appearance that he was dead. He found himself laughing at how absurd that was, and she looked up from the book to glare at him.
"What's so funny, mapache?" she asked confusedly.
"Your...your cup," he clarified.
She closed the copy of Catch-22 to pick up her mug, drink, and then look at it from the side. She smiled a bit, the faintest of blushes adorning her cheeks. "I forgot I had this. I didn't expect you to see that I had it either, to be honest," she said.
"Oh, it's not that bad. It's actually kind of cute, you know," Sly shrugged.
"I wasn't planning on getting rid of it, anyhow," Carmelita admitted.
Sly drank from his own cup, and sighed. "What time is it?"
She looked at her watch. "9:32 A.M."
He smirked. "Aren't you supposed to be at work?"
"I took a personal day. After all, I couldn't just leave you here, could I?" she asked.
He shrugged again, sipped. "You could have. I'd have gone home anyhow."
It was her turn to shrug now. She enjoyed his company, and vice versa, but there wasn't a way to say that without sounding kind of weird, she thought.
"'It was love at first sight,'" Sly absentmindedly said.
Carmelita thought he was talking about them, and flushed. "Well, I don't know about that..."
Sly realized his mistake, and shook his head a bit. "No, no, those...those are the first words of the book. Catch-22. 'It was love at first sight.'" He paused. "You really don't think so?"
Carmelita looked up, thinking. "I don't know. Maybe. All I know is, what we have now is good enough," she decided.
The raccoon thought about it. "That's sort of how it was for me, you know. When I first saw you...it was a cold day, wasn't it?"
"It was at that opera house. You were on the roof when I saw you. I was surprised, actually, at how attractive you were."
He chuckled. "Didn't even have to say anything, you thought I was hot from the start, huh?"
She turned away a bit. "Shut up."
"Anyhow, what was I trying to steal again?"
"It was a diamond. Really expensive one too. It was red. You know how rare those are?"
"Bentley tells me that they're the rarest. Well, he told me that night, after I sorta..."
"You left it for me."
"Well, you seemed like you were in a bit of trouble, so I thought, why not? You know how much stuff I've tried to steal that I ended up just giving to you so I would always get to see you?"
She certainly could recall. Sly had led her to all of the members of the Fiendish Five, the Klaww Gang, and had gotten her a promotion by faking his arrest. He did all of that for her, and she thought it was adorable. "You did all of that just for me?" she asked. She was astonished that the raccoon had done something like that just for her, for love's sake, no less.
"Yep, but you know what was the most important thing?"
"What?"
"I got away. I didn't get that diamond, but I like to think I took something else that day."
"Let me guess: my heart."
"Am I really that predictable?"
"Honestly? Yes."
"It's true though, isn't it?"
She took another drink of her coffee, and recoiled at how cold it had gotten. How cold it was compared to how warm she was on the inside. This was something she had coveted for a long time, this very conversation, what they had done last night, all of it. And yet, she was reluctant to answer this time. It might have had something to do with how Sly was going to be...Sly about it. His name's a pun, and I hate it so much, she bitterly thought. It probably isn't even his real name, she followed it with.
"Yeah, but even so, you can't very well put what we have in a vault, can you?"
"My vault isn't soundproof, so...no."
"What's that supposed to-" She didn't get it at first, but the realization at what he was implying struck her like a ton of bricks. "Oh, my God, you're horrible, you know that?"
He started laughing. "You didn't seem to think so last night."
"I recall you saying I wouldn't shoot you. Right now, you'd be wrong."
Sly took a drink of his own coffee. He didn't mind it being cold. He preferred his iced anyhow.
"If you shot me, I wouldn't be able to...shall we say, assist you."
She groaned, and let her head fall to the table with a thud. Everything on it shook a bit. "Is there a line you won't cross, raccoon?"
"I don't think so, no," was his response, followed by another sip.
"I feel like my face is on fire. Can we not talk about this right now?" she pleaded.
He was quiet for a bit. He had gone a bit too far, he realized. "Yeah, okay," Sly said, with a nod that she couldn't see because Carmelita was too busy hiding her face from him. Her hair was the only part of her head that he could see, the blue, bedraggled curls cascading partially over her arms.
"You know, I've been meaning to ask; is your hair really that color?"
She lifted her face up. She hadn't expected him to actually stop. The question was a good one, though, she had to admit; a lot of people had asked her over the years if her hair was always that color.
"Yeah, it is. I was born that way. It's a really uncommon thing, they said."
"You know, blue's my favorite color."
"It's a shame there's nothing orange about you that I could compliment you on."
"I suppose I'll have to find something, yeah?"
She shrugged, sipped, opened her book again. It was quiet for a bit after that, Sly sitting there, finishing up his cup of coffee, and watching Carmelita read, and occasionally stop to laugh. He smiled a bit every time she did that. He could tell what bits she was at just by her reactions. Laughter at the ridiculous conversations between the squad, sniffling at the part where they detailed Snowden's death, that sort of thing.
"You seem to be enjoying that," Sly interjected.
"Hm?" She looked up. "Oh, yeah. Thanks, by the way."
"Don't mention it. Think of it as a second present," he said with a wink.
"What was the first-" She realized what he meant mid sentence, again. She rolled her eyes, and closed the book again. It irritated her sometimes how he always acted like that. But, it was funny sometimes. She couldn't help but smile at him, as ridiculous as he could be sometimes.
"Well, Carm, it was nice hanging out yesterday and all, but..." he sighed. "I gotta be getting back home. Bentley's probably wondering where I am."
"Ah. Tell him I said hi."
"You know I probably can't do that, right?" he said, as he got up to open the back door.
"Oh, right, I forgot." She paused. It was kind of hard keeping it secret.
"One of these days, maybe I'll be able to." Sly thought out loud. "Not now though."
Carmelita nodded, stood, and hugged Sly. She handed him his cane, and said, "See you later, Ringtail."
He smiled, gave her a little salute, and bounded out. He dropped off the edge, and Carmelita gasped a bit before Sly waved his hat at her from off the side, and then lowered himself down off the side. She breathed again, a sigh of relief. Damn it, Sly... she thought.
When Sly got back to the safehouse, the last thing he expected to see was Bentley. He was mobile, and somewhere other than his room, which in and of itself shocked the thief a bit. He had finished that wheelchair, it seemed. It was very impressive. Sly didn't expect it to be as cool as it was. The turtle turned his head when he heard the door open, and from behind his glasses, Sly could see his eyes widen.
"Sly?! Where on Earth have you been?" Bentley demanded. "I've been worried sick about you ever since I woke up and found you gone!"
The raccoon sighed. "I didn't mean to worry you. I was out, and...you know," he mumbled, not exactly knowing how to tell him where exactly he was.
"I do know, Sly. And I'm a bit ashamed of you, to say the least," Bentley murmured, pushing his glasses back into place. "It's her job to stop you from being a thief, you know. Stop us."
"Wait." He knew? "How...how long have you known?" Sly asked.
"Oh, probably...six months?" the turtle guessed. "A while. I sort of...bugged you."
"Really?" Sure enough, Sly took off his hat, and looked inside of it. A small cylinder was taped to the inside of it, which Sly could tell was probably a microphone. He hadn't expected this, either. "And you did this because...?"
"Well, knowing what I do, you probably weren't going to tell me where you were. Speaking of which, why are you over there in the first place?"
Sly couldn't exactly tell Bentley why, because he himself didn't truly know. What he and Carmelita had was rather complicated, which made it hard to put into words.
"Well, you know...having, uh, someone like her could be helpful. For our heists. You know." He hoped that Bentley hadn't heard exactly everything.
The turtle sighed. "And you have a thing for her?" It was obvious to Bentley, and probably would have been to Murray if he had been there.
Sly saw no point in lying now. "And I've got a thing for her."
"Well, I can't tell you what to do, but I'll say this: be careful, Sly. Something horrible could easily happen to one of you. Or both of you." the turtle wondered.
"Right. I'll be careful. Thanks, Bentley. Oh, one more thing."
"What is it?" Bentley asked.
"Carmelita says hi." Sly told him.
"She told you to-you know what, never mind. There was something else I wanted to talk to you about, though..."
Sly sat down in one of the chairs in the room. This was important if Bentley had to tell him in person. "Go on."
"I've been planning another heist. We could have it ready in a month or two, but we have to get everyone back together."
"Really, now? This should be good."
Bentley nodded his head. "Not just Murray, though. We'll need more help than that."
"Let's do it, then." the thief agreed.
Bentley began explaining the specifics, and Sly had one last thought before he began to focus.
I bet she'll be there.