Never doubt your instinct.

It was cloudy but devoid of rain that following morning when they headed out, and Carmelita took it as a good sign. She contacted the chief constable she'd been working with to let them know that she'd found a good lead and would keep them updated, then contacted the first boat rental she could find to secure passage to the Isle of Wrath for her and her partner.

The two of them stood on the docks, watching the rental employees set the boat up for them. Sly, she noticed, kept glancing between her and the boat.

"You know you can ask me anything, Ringtail. What's on your mind?"

"I'm just wondering…" He hesitated and looked back towards the town. "Why did you rent a civilian boat? Don't the cops here have one you can use?"

"They do," she acknowledged, "but asking them for it would've made them want to come along. I'd rather just us two go ahead and scope the place out first."

"Because you don't want to alert our frog friend that he's got someone gunning for him?"

"That, and also because I know you don't want to interact with other officers if you can help it."

He blinked at her, surprised, and she gave him a smile.

"We make a pretty good team, Ringtail. I'd rather have you at my side for something like this than a team of strangers. Not that I don't trust my fellow officers!" The fox hurried to clarify. "But you've more than proven yourself to be just as capable as me, and I know I can rely on you no matter what's thrown at us."

Sly sat on that for a minute, and she let him. He always seemed to take a little longer to process genuine compliments. She found it almost endearing. "…Yeah, I guess after a giant swamp monster, there really isn't anything that we can't handle by ourselves. So, same plan as before, then? Go in quiet and careful, and then launch a surprise attack?"

"More or less, although this time I'd like to call for reinforcements before I get into another big fight, not after." She gestured to the boat. "Hence another reason for getting this – so you have a guaranteed way off the Isle if you're not willing to get on a police boat with me."

"Huh. Thanks."

He sounded like he wasn't entirely sure what to make of her change of heart, even though she'd already long-apologized for Haiti, and Carmelita couldn't blame him. She still hadn't told him about what she'd witnessed that night to make her reevaluate her judgement, after all.

Speaking of the boat, however, the two employees were taking longer than expected to finish prepping it. They kept muttering to themselves – hadn't stopped muttering to themselves since the inspector had said it would be a trip to the Isle of Wrath. Carmelita strained her hearing but couldn't pick up what was putting them so on edge.

"They're nervous to send us out that far," Sly said quietly as if reading her mind. "They're afraid a storm is going to sink the boat."

"What? Why are they worried about a storm?" She whispered back, confused and irritated. "It's not even raining today, and all the local forecasts say it's going to be clear skies for days. That doesn't make any sense!"

"Don't shoot the messenger; I'm only saying what they're saying." The corners of his mouth lifted up ever so slightly. "Maybe 'storm' is actually code for 'inspector'. Maybe they think you'll sink the boat cause you don't know how to handle one."

"Very funny." She pushed lightly at his shoulder in mock offense. "But there's nothing to worry about, because I've been out to sea before. I'm going to talk to them."

"Good idea. Go prove me right."

All her eye rolling couldn't stop the warmth rising in her cheeks at his smug little smile as she walked off. What a terrible gift he wielded to be able to get under her skin in a way that was both infuriating and charming. She hoped, after this was all over and the rest of the Fiendish Five were behind bars, that they'd stay in touch – if only because she was going to miss that feeling.

Professional thoughts, Carmelita. You're on a mission here.

The fox stepped up to the edge of the dock right by the boat and cleared her throat. One of the employees, a seagull, lifted her ballcap to look at her.

"Everything almost good to go?" Carmelita asked as politely as possible.

"Yeah. You're all set." The gull hesitated, then leaned forward so she could lower her voice. "But are you sure you want to go to the Isle of Wrath? It's a treacherous area, you know."

"If you're talking about the Welsh Triangle, then don't worry. I'm well aware of the dangers and I have boating experience."

The employees shared a glance, but whatever doubts they had weren't voiced. The seagull only shook her head and handed Carmelita the boat keys.

"Whatever you say, ma'am. Just be careful, yeah?"

"Of course." She turned and waved Sly forward, and he climbed onto the boat. "Everything will be just fine."

Everything was not, in fact, just fine.

An hour out from Swansea, the sky suddenly grew dark and gloomy, and the ocean began getting choppier around them. By hour two, Carmelita was silently cursing out every weather reporter she could think of as what was supposed to be a calm, peaceful morning at sea had suddenly turned into a game of tug-of-war against powerful currents and what was practically a monsoon falling from the thick clouds above.

A tumultuous wave crashed into the side of the boat, nearly knocking her off her feet, and she barely managed to keep herself upright with her hands gripped tightly around the steering wheel in the tiny bridge. Her partner was huddled in on himself against the wall furthest from the door, body language tense and miserable.

"This is insane!" She shouted over the sudden crackle of lightning in the distance. "Where the hell did this storm even come from!"

Sly didn't answer, but she didn't expect him to. They both just kept their eyes locked on the ocean ahead and hoped that the waves wouldn't get big enough to capsize them.

Seeing a dark shape in the distance that wasn't more water was one of the most relieving things the fox had ever experienced. She turned the boat towards the shrouded isle, praying that they'd make it to land safely before the storm could get any worse.

They landed not-so-gently on the shore, but Carmelita was happy to take a potential beaching over losing the boat entirely. Her legs were more than a little shaky as her boots hit the sand, and she shielded her face with her arm against the rain that was still drenching them while she looked for any sign of Raleigh's presence.

A prickling at her left side told her that Sly was now standing next to her. Within the noise of the storm, she hadn't even heard him jump down.

"I should've brought that stupid raincoat after all," she grumbled. "Now I'm never going to get dry."

"I'm just glad we made it to the island," the raccoon said.

He looked as wretched as she felt, which was more comforting than she expected. The inspector squared her shoulders and looked out at the dark landscape. What should've been a bright, midday sky was instead a gloomy dusk that made it feel like it was the middle of the night.

"Let's turn this bad luck on its head and find Raleigh. This isn't a big island, so it shouldn't take long."

"Aye, aye, captain."

The storm seemed to let up just a little bit as they made their way deeper into the Isle of Wrath; the wind was chilling but no longer knocking the breath out of them, and the downpour became regular rain that they didn't have to squint through just to see where their next step was. Carmelita thanked her past self's foresight for wearing a windbreaker instead of her usual jacket, which she wrapped tightly around herself.

Sly still hadn't taken off the hoodie she'd gotten him. He crossed his arms close to his chest but otherwise made no complaints about the cold.

Eventually, they stumbled onto a beaten path that had long been turned to mud, almost as difficult to walk along as off of it. The two followed its trail as it circled around the isle until they were on a tall cliffside with the ocean far below on their right.

And up ahead, tucked away in a bay, was a giant ornate ship.

Carmelita's mouth fell open as she stared at it. Even from this distance, she could tell that it was on par with some smaller cruise ships. It reeked of exorbitance and aristocracy.

"Look at the size of that ship," she breathed in disgusted awe. "How did Raleigh get away without being seen for so long with that thing?"

Sly's eyes scanned the giant eye sore until he found what he was looking for. He pointed. "Probably because of that."

She followed his finger to a miniature blimp hovering over the bow of the ship. It would have looked innocent – as innocent as a blimp belonging to a criminal could look – if not for the swirling vortex of clouds billowing out of its top.

"What the hell is that?"

"Well, I'm not exactly an engineer," the raccoon said with his mouth in a thin, grim line. "But between the stuff coming out of it and how wrong the weather has been, my honest guest would be some kind of…storm machine."

Carmelita groaned and flicked wet hair out of her eyes. "Why would someone even want a storm machine? Why can't any of these people be like normal criminals?! Storm machines and city coups and zombies! I feel like I'm in a cop soap opera."

"Then it's a good thing you're the main character who's going to outlast all the supporting cast, huh?"

"Oh, shush. If anything, this is a buddy cop show – so we'll outlast them together. You and me against the scum of the world for ten seasons and a movie."

The fox began descending the path in the direction of the ship, waiting for Sly to continue the joke, but all she heard was his own footsteps on the rocky terrain behind her. When she glanced back at him, he looked lost in thought.

They made their way to the bottom of the cliff where water lapped at their feet, and Carmelita could see a single, lonely dock at the end of the bay with one single, lonely boat tied to it. She motioned for her partner to follow her over that way.

It was the same boat that Sly had taken pictures of back in town. No one could be seen anywhere, so they climbed onto the deck and began poking around. Barrels lined the railing – some empty, some filled with what looked like scavenged tech and miscellaneous comfort things like curtains and bedding and books. Everything was waterlogged to some degree, but it didn't look to be from the rain.

"The keys aren't in the engine," the raccoon called out to her when he came out of the bridge while she continued to search through barrels. "Those two guys must park it here when they aren't harassing poor food service workers."

"Where do you think they got all of this?" She asked, gesturing to the containers she'd opened. "None of this looks store-bought, and I can't find any correlation – it's all too different."

He looked over the stuff, chewing the inside of his cheek. "Dunno, but –"

The words cut off as they saw a light on the water in the distance, at the base of the giant ship still sitting farther out in the bay. It looked like a lantern, and it was slowly creeping towards the dock.

"Looks like those guys are coming back for it," Sly finished.

Carmelita inhaled sharply through her teeth and began putting the barrel lids back in place. Before she could finish, her partner stopped her with a gentle touch of his hand.

"What are you doing? We have to hide any evidence that we were here before they show up!"

"Yeah, but we also have to find a way onto that ship." He looked meaningfully at her, then down at the barrel between them. "And I have an idea as to how."

"This is ridiculous."

"Shh."

"It's not going to work."

"It is going to work, but only if you stay quiet."

Carmelita grumbled and shifted her weight so that the plush rug she had wrapped around herself didn't feel quite so suffocating. The two of them were each hiding in a barrel, which was perhaps the dumbest plan she had ever tried in her life – that she had ever heard in her life. But she didn't complain about it again for fear that whoever was coming back might be in earshot, and they both waited for something to happen.

They waited five minutes. Ten. Fifteen. Just when Carmelita was ready to throw up her hands and start climbing out of her hiding place in impatience, a sudden thud that made the boat rock under them had her going still. A pair of gruff, masculine voices announced the arrival of the walruses to whom the boat belonged to.

The fox didn't move a muscle as the men turned the engine on and began driving the boat off. She could see through a tiny hole in the wood that they were moving towards Raleigh's ship. Once it was lined up parallel to the giant eyesore, the walruses bustled about the deck out of her line of sight.

Then, suddenly, one of them lifted the barrel she was in.

Carmelita held her breath, staring out at nothing but blue overalls while the man held the barrel against his chest. He placed her on – something, and then she felt gravity bottom out from under her as her view told her she was being raised up, up, up into the air.

Once that stopped, another set of hands hoisted her again from behind and took her off what she could now see was a pulley-driven lift covered in other full barrels. She was placed roughly on the ship's deck, left to do nothing but watch as the walruses spent the better part of ten minutes emptying the boat below.

After they were done, the two took a moment to catch their breaths before walking off, leaving their cargo alone and unattended. Even so, the inspector waited until she was certain they'd be out of earshot to carefully remove herself from her hiding place, and she saw Sly do the same nearby.

They replaced the lids and darted off together until they could safely slip into the shadows of one of the dilapidated miniature houses seemingly built right on the deck. No one shouted after them and no alarms went off.

"I can't believe that worked," she huffed, equally impressed and annoyed by the silliness of it all. "We got extremely lucky, you know. If they'd opened their cargo as soon as they'd unloaded it, things would've gone very poorly."

"Yeah, but they didn't," the raccoon pointed out, peering around the corner to look for other goons who might show up unannounced. "No use dwelling on how things could've gone wrong when there's no point to it."

He was right. She sighed and nodded, knowing he probably couldn't see it, and joined him in scanning the area. It was rather empty for such a large ship; there was no sign of anyone but them on the deck. The deck itself was built to look more like a residential street than what one usually expected to see on a ship – there was even a fountain with a little angler fish centerpiece surrounded by a small field of grass, like some kind of miniature decorative park or garden. The inspector wrinkled her nose at the shallow extravagance of it all.

"This place looks like a maze. I don't even know where to start looking for Raleigh."

Before her partner could offer any suggestions, there was a now-familiar screeching of a loudspeaker coming to life all around them.

"I say, chaps, my heartiest congratulations to you all!" Raleigh's voice was difficult to understand through the abysmal feedback and his own loud volume. "The storm machine has sunk its fiftieth ship last night, and the loot has already been unloaded. Our operation has been moving along splendidly!"

Carmelita's eyes widened, then narrowed, and she looked over towards the cluster of barrels they had just been hiding in. Suddenly, the odd variety of contents made perfect, terrible sense.

"With the possible exception being…" The frog continued, and if he'd been hard to hear before, it was nearly unintelligible now. "The grounds negligence displayed below decks. And, I demand the boilers stay at full pressure at all times! If you lazy, low-brow, technically incompetent pack of guttersnipes did your jobs right, we'd have sunk one hundred ships by now!"

She felt more than saw Sly tense up beside her at the venom in the crime boss' words. Then, just as abruptly, Raleigh switched right back to being cheery and proud.

"But of course, fifty boats is a fine, fine achievement. Carry on, my boys, carry on."

The announcement ended, thankfully not as jarringly as it had started, and the two stowaways spent a moment looking at each other as they processed this new information and how it could help or hinder them.

"Explains the sudden bad weather," she said, and he bobbed his head in agreement. "And it also explains why no one has found him even though he's hiding so close to Wales."

"What's the plan, then? Ready to call in reinforcements and wait for them to show up?"

There was a surprising amount of genuineness to his statement; when she looked at the raccoon, she could see that he was completely serious about the suggestion. In fact, he seemed almost more nervous to be here than in Mz. Ruby's territory.

"…Not just yet," the inspector replied, slow and thoughtful, and watched with confused interest how her partner didn't seem as thrilled about working alone as she had come to expect. "If Raleigh is deliberately sinking any ships that come out here, then there's a good chance he'll do that to any officers who come to help."

"We made it, didn't we?"

"By the skin of our teeth, Ringtail," she reminded him. "And ironically, us being in a smaller boat is probably what saved us, if these criminals using one as well is any indication. The police boats are going to be a lot bigger and bulkier than that."

Sly grimaced, which made her head spin. Since when was he the one eager to get authorities involved while she was more reluctant? It felt as topsy-turvy as the rest of the day was shaping up to be.

"What about a helicopter?"

That made her give him a long, flat stare, letting the rain pour down on them both until he realized how incredibly stupid that idea was. He coughed once and rubbed the back of his head when it hit him, clearly embarrassed, but she didn't tease him for it.

"I'm still going to contact them, but first we need to find a way to shut down that storm machine."

"Should probably stall the ship, too," he added. "Otherwise, Raleigh might haul off into the ocean and make it impossible to find him again."

"Good point. Plus, it would really suck to be stranded here, carried off to who-knows-where for who-know-how-long, huh?" Carmelita said it as a joke, but from the way the raccoon visibly paled under his fur, he wasn't finding the humor in it. "I'm kidding, Ringtail. We're not going to let that happen."

"…Right. Of course not."

Plan in place, she squared her shoulders and looked about the ship. There was no indication of where the bridge could be, or whether they could rely on something as simple as an anchor to ground such a giant craft. In fact, the longer she studied the deck and all of the things crammed across it, the more she realized that it might be a case of finding a needle in a haystack.

"Any, uh, ideas?" She asked as nonchalantly as she could. "A direction that's enticing to you, maybe?"

"I don't know a lot about how boats work," he admitted quietly, clearly seeing through her ruse.

"Neither do I," the fox sighed, giving up on subtlety. She eyed the large blimp hovering above the ship's bow. "Nor do I know how to stop something like that."

They both watched the miniature maelstrom that seemed to rise straight out of the top of the floating machine. An idea occurred to her that she almost didn't voice – not because she didn't think it was a good one, but because of her partner's nervous energy. She wasn't entirely certain he wouldn't shoot it down without hearing her out.

"I might have an idea…" Carmelita started, tentative as she watched him for any negative reaction. "But let me know if you're not comfortable with it."

Sly raised an eyebrow. "Try me."

"What if we split up?" When he didn't immediately respond, she continued. "We can search the grounds in half the time, and it'll give us more of a chance to achieve both of our goals before Raleigh or his goons catch on to our presence. What do you think?"

The raccoon looked at her for a long moment where she couldn't read what he was thinking at all. Just when she thought he'd veto the plan, he tilted his head and gave a cautious nod.

"…That works for me," he said with a tone she could hear the reservations in.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. The sooner we bring this ship down, the sooner we can get out of this awful place – this awful rain, I mean."

Carmelita took one look at the expression on his face and decided not to press the strange slip of his tongue. She clapped him once on the back reassuringly, gave him her brightest smile, and hoped it was enough.

"It'll be fine, Ringtail. If anything goes wrong, you know I'm just a call away." She gave him a pointed look about that. Her number was in his phone, but he hadn't yet bothered to call her to give her his number.

He offered a wan smile, not quite strong enough to be coy but definitely a lot closer to the Sly she was used to. "I know. Here's hoping it doesn't come to that, though. Gotta prove I'm capable of being on my own at least once, right?"

"You don't have to prove anything, Sly. Not to me."

With that, she reached over and gave one quick, encouraging squeeze of his hand with her own, and felt his fingers twitch in response. Then they both let go at the same time and turned in opposite directions.

"Meet here in half an hour regardless if we find anything or not?"

Her partner nodded.

"Great. Then I'll see you soon."

"See you soon."

Inspector Fox went off, taking one moment to turn and watch Sly's tail disappear behind a set of buildings, and ignored the strange, sudden worry in her stomach.

A/N: All hail the might barrel, best Sly disguise in existence. Not even Carmelita can deny its greatness.

Shorter chapter than I wanted, but oh well. Our duo has survived the treacherous trip to the Isle of Wrath and have made it to Raleigh's ship. I had fun figuring out how the artificial storm would affect their travel and any extra police help. The fact that in canon, the Cooper gang made it to the island without any trouble even though Raleigh has sunk fifty ships in the area is extremely funny to me. These two aren't getting either the luck or the luxury from me!

Thanks for reading!