Disclaimer: I don't own any Sly Cooper characters; they belong to Sucker Punch/Sanzaru Games.

Claimer: I own all of my original character.

Author's Note: Well, now that I actually have some free time I should be able to write much more often now. With this story, I would call it a preface to a story I currently have in the works. It also pulls a little bit from my previous story, "For Now". So, with that being said, there is also something I should mention. This is technically set after the events of Sly 4, but not to an exact point. Even though Sly is considered missing by the end of that game, for the purpose of my story I've chosen to briefly ignore that plot detail and just continue on. But aside from that, I also have a new poll up on my profile that I would be so grateful if you would take the time to take. I've been recently wondering if I should do a bit of a re-do on my first story, "How They Met" for two reasons. The first being that I felt that I needed to just change it. Having been written years ago, it's due for refreshing. The second being caused by my absence here on this site. Because I've been gone for over a year, anyone who may be new to my stories probably won't know the backstory to my OC. So if you could be so kind as to assist me with that poll, I would greatly appreciate it. But, with that being said, I hope you read, review, and let me know what you think! Thanks!

An Upcoming Threat

She didn't look anything like I had remembered. Her eyes were sullen, her smile gone, and she was sickly thin. The flirtatious sparkle in her eyes had turned dull and she looked like a shell of the person she once was. It had been over a year since I had seen my dear friend in a year aside from briefly crossing paths with her a month or so ago. She had just disappeared. Gone. Left sometime in the winter without a trace and hadn't been seen since. I often worried about Ramona, stopping by her apartment almost daily, peering inside with hopes of seeing her inside. But instead, I was greeted by an empty, cold apartment that obviously hadn't been lived in for months every time I visited. After a year passed I had given up hope of seeing her again and quite seriously believed her to be dead by this point. Interpol has since removed the young thief from their most wanted list, now focusing entirely on me. Which was fine, but with Ramona's twin being the main Inspector on my tail, I often chatted with Inspector Fox about the possible whereabouts of her sister. Yes, Carmelita worked hard to put her sister in jail on a daily basis, but our conversations were held for the sole purpose of hoping she was alive.

I looked at her with sadness and pity, as she stood hunched over the bridge, looking down into the frozen river below. While I was on routine nightly city surveillance, checking for guards and new locations to hit, I had spotted my old friend standing alone at the bridge. Having had extremely limited contact with her, I quickly turned off my binoccucom and all communications I had with Bentley and Murray so I could have a conversation with Ramona without fear of having her run off. Usually, this idea would be irrational. Ramona Bandicoot was not a paranoid girl, even though she was once at the top of Interpol's list, but something made her pack up and leave in the middle of the night so I did want to eliminate all risks. I stepped quietly, not wanting to alarm her while I was still too far away. I waited until I was within reach of her now boney shoulder before speaking.

"You, my dear raccoon, are quite the difficult person to find lately." Her head whipped around, startled at my voice breaking the silence.

"It certainly has been my goal in life. To go unnoticed. But, being in our profession, that's not always going to happen." She turned around and lifted herself onto the ledge of the bridge, crossing her ankles and swinging her legs as she looked me over."

"Why would that be your goal? You've always struck me as the person who enjoys being around others." I furred my brows, not yet understanding her cold nature.

"Because being seen by others has yet to bring me happiness. It always brings pain. It always brings enemies. It always brings something I don't want…which is why I left. I know that's what you want to talk to me about, Sly."

"It is. I've missed you; I sincerely hope you know that. And not just for competition, I've grown to really like you, you know." I winked and nudged her foot with mine, leading her to give a pained smile.

"I know. I felt bad for not telling you why, but I figured it wouldn't hurt as much if I just left." She sighed, twirling her thumbs around each other as she processed her thoughts.

"So, has solitude brought you happiness, Mademoiselle?"

"No. It hasn't." she sounded so defeated and broken. I had seen Ramona depressed many times before, but never this sad.

"But," I said as I sat beside her, "you have come back. Because I know for a fact you haven't been staying in Paris. I've turned this city upside down looking for you, so that I'm certain of. So there must be a reason for that." She nodded as she began to dig into her signature satchel attacked around her.

"I've been hopping around, keeping my eye on people. Researching. Investigating. There's trouble, Sly. Trouble that's been brewing for quite some time now. I must say that I've lost my taste for stealing for the moment, but I haven't lost my taste in keeping out of trouble." She nudged me with her elbow as she continued scrounging around in her bag.

"I've travelled around Europe, trying to essentially find my meaning again," Ramona mentioned softly as she pulled a scrap of paper from her bag that was worn down and nearly falling apart, "I lost myself after the defeat of most of my enemies, aside from personal demons of course. I had avenged my father's death, had no major threats coming towards me, and lost the taste for stealing some artifact from a corrupt leader of this museum or that mafia boss or whatever the hell it may be."

"So you left to find something to do?" she nodded slowly.

"I'm sorry for not telling you. We'd grown so, so close. But that closeness made me hesitant. Sly, I'll be honest, I love you to death and can tell you just about everything," she looked me in the eyes before sighing again, "but there are just some things that I can't tell anyone about. My entire life has been spent bottling up emotions and feelings, so I can't help but avoid them when they come up. But I had been avoiding this for far too long and it got to the point where I could barely live with myself. And I couldn't tell you about it…because I love you too much to let you worry about my wellbeing in that manner. I can't burden you with everything. There are things I have to face myself. So…I left."

"What was that feeling, Ramona? What on this Earth could make you, the strongest person I know, flee in absolute terror?"

"The unknown." It's all she said. She sat there, the sadness returned to her face as she brought up feelings she'd spent a year trying to repress, "I've spent my entire life with one goal in mind: to get back at the man that killed my father. I told myself that once that was done, I could rebuild my life and try to be a normal person again. To build my own family and to be happy, but now that I've done that…I don't know what to do. I'm scared of what I should do. I don't have a goal in mind anymore. I don't know what to do. I'm afraid of being alone. I'm afraid that my only reason and will to live came from the absolute hatred and anger I'd been holding onto for twenty years. And now I think that was my reason to live. I don't have one other reason for being here. Stealing? Yeah I could do that but honestly what good does it do? There's no need to do it anymore. I became a thief because my father was a thief and he was reason behind me doing what I've done. But he's not there anymore. I don't have a reason to steal. And because I'm a felon and a criminal I can't integrate into society, I'd rot in prison until the day I die." She paused to wipe tears from her eyes.

"Ramona, you don't have to worry about troubling me with your-" she put a paw up to stop me before I could respond.

"I know what you're going to say. I don't have to feel bad for showing my emotions and asking for help. I know…I know. But this was something I had to do on my own. So, I went out into Europe to find a purpose for myself. And in doing so, I made a discover that I knew you needed to know about."

"Which is why you came back?" she nodded as she handed me the scrap of paper she had dug out from her bag.

I took the paper, which wasn't much bigger than a sticky note, and looked it over. In the middle of the paper was the name "Cooper", hastily written in red ink. It had also been scratched though in the same red ink. I furred my brows, wondering why this small scrap had caught Ramona's eye.

"As I was travelling though Europe, I camped everywhere. I didn't stay in hotels or apartments, but in a single tent somewhere in an alley or in the middle of the woods. Contact with others was something I was trying to avoid so that seemed to be the most logical solution."

"So if you were camping in the woods how did you get this? And what do you think it means?"

"I'm getting to that," she adjusted herself as I held onto the paper, "I was in Holland. While I was there, I camped in a forest no less than a mile from the highest security prison in Europe. And as fate my have it, it just so happened that one of the nights I slept outside, there was an escape by one lonely little prisoner.

She paused, taking the paper from my paw and flipping it to the reverse side. On the back was the worn pattern for some kind of label, the only part of still showing happened to be part of the title, "Ratty Roger's Rat Poi-" before the rest was ripped away. However, that was not the main focus of the second side of the paper. Ramona's finger slid to the bottom and pointed to a stamp that had been left in the same red ink from the front side. The ink was stamped into a familiar logo I'd seen quite often the past few months: the symbol of a long eared mouse. This was the same logo that had been stamped in similar red ink onto post cards that had then been sent to Bentley by a certain someone.

"Penelope," we said in unison.

"Penelope was sent to a high security European prison after what happened with Le Paradox. Your sister made sure she went to the best one available."

"But, she escaped, did she not?" Ramona's old excitement began to show as she asked the question.

"A few months ago. She'd been sending Bentley post cards with this imprint ever since."

"I saw her escape that night. Before I recognized her, I did see a prisoner climb out of a window and head towards the woods where I was staying. Not wanting to be seen and having my own criminal past, I hid. I crawled up a tree, looking down as she ran by. I recognized her almost immediately and had no doubt she would do the same to me if we came face to face. So, not wanting a confrontation, I stayed above. However, I continued to follow her. I'd trailed her for a long while before she made her way to a cliff side. It was then when she dropped this," she pointed to the paper.

"She's coming after you, Sly. She has to be. Your name written down and crossed out like it's a hit list made me uneasy. Not to mention it was written on the back of a rat poison box and stamped like a post card. It's a threat." Ramona gabbed the paper from my paws and returned it to her bag.

"You came back to warn us about Penelope?" she nodded.

"I still have yet to find my purpose in life, Sly, but when I know that you are in danger by someone who has already stabbed you in the back and tried to kill you, I will do every thing in my power to help you and keep you three safe. That much I can and will do until the day I die."