These are, obviously, prompts where each response is meant to only be a sentence long. None of them fit this criteria |D Also, not all of them fit my headcanons anymore, so they may contradict other fics or each other lul.

Contains het, slash, and what I suppose is technically incest. Nothing graphic for any of these though.

Edit July 9/13: Marked story as complete. I just have zero interest in Bob and can't seem to get his chapter written even though everything's already planned out. Maybe one day I'll finish it, but for now no Bob, sorry |D

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Kiss
A pair of lips press against the base of Sly's ear and his first thought is Carmelita but she's not here, she can't be, and he turns but the only person there is Rioichi, calmly perched on the back of a chair while he attempts to catch the fly that's been evading him for the past day. Their eyes meet and the corners of his mouth turn upwards just the slightest, and Sly wonders...

Hands
Tennessee Kid Cooper's hands are rough and calloused and there's a strange ropy scar going over the back of the right one; they are physically the opposite of Sly's, but they have that same deft cleverness to them. He doesn't quite touch but she thinks she can feel the breeze of his motions passing over her fur, and he looks into her eyes and gives her a shit-eating grin. (And that's like Sly, too, only not, because even when he was young he'd never been so brazenly sexual. Romantic, yes, but sexual? No.) She smiles back and then steps away, and he grins wider, tipping his hat to her before melting into the shadows. They don't talk much after that. (Although he never stops flirting with her, but she can tell he's doing it purely for his own amusement. Not like Sly, who does it because he loves her reactions, loves her replies, loves her.)

Death
"How long have I got?" Tennessee asks. Sly opens his mouth to reply (twelve years, you're going to get your gut slashed open with a broken bottle in a bar fight, they threw you in the river before you even died), and then closes it and shakes his head. Tennessee's keenly intelligent and far too aged eyes study him for a few moments, and then he nods and keeps walking. "Though as much."

Wind
The wind howls past the van and far, far below the bottom of the canyon looms ever closer. Sly yells his name, and the terror oozes from every syllable. They need a solution, and they need it within the next ten seconds.
Bentley takes a deep breath. The panic receeds, and the world slows.
(He may not be a raccoon, but he is a Cooper. Most of the techniques may be impossible for him, but this one... this one he can do.)
The answer appears, and the world returns to normal.
"Sorry, Murray, but this is our only chance!"
And they vanish from 1884.

Soft
The Ice Age is really damn cold. Surprise surprise. The three of them bunch together for warmth inside the shattered remains of the van, wrapped in a blanket and a thick pelt that had belonged to whoever lived in the cave they've commandeered.
Murray's the best off of the three of them, which isn't surprising; he's worried about the van, but he's confident they can fix it and get out of this mess. Sly's... alright, too busy worrying about the frigid nights and Carmelita being alone during them to calm down, and then there's the uneasiness about the fate of his ancestors and by extension his own fate. But all things considered, he's holding up admirably.
Bentley is less alright. Cold is not kind to him, they'd figured that out years ago, and this is far worse than Canada had been. He suffers in silence for the first ten minutes, until he starts shivering and his shell rattles against the back of his wheelchair.
Murray's the first to look up, and a look of guilt crosses his face before he reaches out and Bentley's too frozen to protest as he's lifted out of the chair. He's promptly squished in between his brothers, and Sly hisses and jerks back from the sudden sensation of cold skin against his.
"M'sorry," Bentley mutters.
He's too sleepy to notice it, but Sly's expression softens immediately, and Bentley suddenly finds a furry and more importantly warm tail shoved into his grip. He promptly curls around it, far too out of it to care about how silly he may look, and Murray and Sly resettle around him to form a protective cocoon of warmth.
Come morning, they're still huddled against each other. It probably says something about them that it's been years since they ran together and yet it's as comfortable as breathing.

Touch
The change between Bob, and Tennessee and Rioichi is sudden and drastic. Sly had never noticed it when he'd been with them, but they'd shyed away from touch; Bob, on the other hand, is probably the most touchy-feely person he's ever met. As he's enthusiastically proven via several bone-crushing hugs. He hugs when he's happy, he hugs when he's upset, he hugs when he's nervous... he probably should have been nicknamed Hugs instead of Bob.

Comfort
The corners of the photograph are beginning to wear thin from his constant handling, and Carmelita's face is fading because he keeps running his fingers over it, but Sly can't really bring himself to stop. Funny how you never know what you've got until you lose it.

Jealousy
Murray knows he's being stupid. He knows it and he knows he should stop it but he just doesn't care. He sees the way Sly looks at Bob, sometimes, when he thinks no one's looking - it's an awed respect, the wonder of having met someone he's wondered about all his life. Bentley likes Bob, even if he gets kind of exasperated with him, and Carmelita is the same, except she's amused, too, and...
Sometimes, all Murray wants to do is punch that stupid cave raccoon in the face.

Chocolate
Bob discovers the stash of chocolate bars in the glove compartment. Predictably, he eats them. All twenty of them. And about half the wrappers before he figures out that they aren't supposed to be eaten.
Predictably, he ends up throwing up. It is, however, in his own words, "So worth it, do you have more of these delicacies?"

Rain
It's raining when they arrive in 1301. It rains the entire time they're there. It is England; Carmelita figures she probably should have expected it. The rain washes the grime off of Galleth's armor as she walks with him, her arm through his. He catches her looking and he smiles at her; it's strange, because it's not like Sly's, it's honest and open and innocent and nearly childlike. Carmelita smiles back and wonders what might have been if he'd been born seven hundred years later.

Devotion
The fact that Sly had given up his thieving days, given up Bentley and Murray, given up his family to be with her hits Carmelita all at once, and suddenly she's not mad at him anymore.

Technology
They left her here. They left her in 1301. In England. Penelope isn't sure whether to be furious or disappointed or gleeful. She'd hoped they would bring her to a prison in 2012, because that would have been easy to break out of - she probably wouldn't have even been held for long, what would they charge her with? They had no evidence of anything. But Bentley had known that, she was sure, so they left her here.
But Bentley hadn't thought of how much damage she could do here, had he?
It would be hard without Le Paradox's help, true. But she was confident that she could rebuild her army, and the Black Knight, with only what she had here. With the Cooper Gang gone, there wouldn't be anyone in her way except Galleth, and the man was an idiot. She could do a lot of damage to the timeline from back here.
Problem was, she wasn't sure if she wanted to. She didn't like Sly, and she'd gladly erase him from history. But if she did that, then Bentley... he'd grow up alone, and he'd probably end up in some dead-end computer repair job. That wasn't what she wanted for him, despite how much he'd hurt her, and - let's be honest, Penelope - how much she'd hurt him.
So Galleth and the rest of the Coopers were off-limits. Didn't mean she couldn't alter the timeline in other ways. Like carving out a small kingdom for herself. Or queendom, as the case may be. All she had to do was -
Run. Run run run.
Some ancient instinct screams at her to move, so she does, darting underneath a smashed machine, wedging herself into the smallest gap she can fit. She holds her breath, trembling, wondering what she'd sensed. There's nothing out there, nothing to see, nothing to hear - but she could feel eyes on her, she was sure...
And then an enormous set of talons alights soundlessly on a pipe in front of her.
"Good evening," Clockwerk says.
Penelope doesn't scream, but it's a close thing, and it feels like her heart's going to explode in her chest. She opens her mouth but no sounds come out, and the massive feathered head tilts slightly. Those eyes... each as big as her head, and the hatred in them... it's like she's paralyzed in place. Is this what the Coopers feel like?
"I have a proposition for you."
She listens as Clockwerk describes his plans and her part in them, and it isn't a proposition, it's an order, and she has no choice but to obey. Her technology and his body...
'Oh, Bentley,' she thinks, 'I was such a fool.'

Tears
Bentley cries after losing Penelope. He tries to hide it from the others, but they're his brothers; Sly sits with him, first, and when he's out in the field Murray takes his place. They never say anything to him, nor he to them, but he's grateful for their presence.
(And then, most surprising of all, Carmelita sits with him; she doesn't say anything either, but she smiles at him and pats his hand, and Bentley has the sudden insane urge to hug her.)

Smile
They go back to Japan, briefly, after stopping Penelope, because Sly's beginning to wonder if he'll get another chance, and he's got a promise to keep. The time machine isn't precise; they end up in 1627 instead of 1603, but they have as many attempts as they need, so Sly goes out for a quick recon to see if he can find Rioichi now rather than forcing them to waste energy jumping around.
It isn't hard to find him, and Sly has to smile at that because the man is a terrible ninja sometimes. The sushi restaurant is still there, still in business; Sly enters through the same window that he had... well, decades ago, from Rioichi's perspective. Only a week ago from his, and god time travel was confusing.
It's night, so the shop is closed, and Sly tiptoes around, searching for any sort of bedrooms. Then something - someone - lands on his back, flattening him to the floor and then pinning him there, kicking his cane out of his hand. Rioichi's still got it, apparently, even though he's pushing sixty by now, and Sly grins a bit before realizing that the tail barely in his view isn't Rioichi's. It's paler and monochrome and barely patterned, and it's not a raccoon's or a panda's, and cold dread settles into Sly's stomach. He struggles, manages to unbalance his attacker, but they still have him pinned, and he hears the whisper of a blade being drawn from its sheath -
"Tomiko!"
Sly twists, the sudden voice having distracted his attacker, and he rolls, kicking them away and darting for his cane. As soon as it's in his hands he's whirled back to face his attacker, ready to parry the blow he's sure is coming, and a pale blur darts toward him -
"ENOUGH!"
The pale - man, woman? Sly can't figure out which they are, can't even tell what their species is - stops in their tracks, their sword raised above their head. They're dressed in a simple, concealing robe, and their features are delicate, but not feminine; long, wavy hair falls down to their waist. When nothing happens for several seconds, Sly glances sideways.
Rioichi stands in the doorway. Older, sure, his vibrant red fur going grey-white in places, but it's unmistakably him.
"Father?"
Sly looks back at the pale... person. They've lowered their blade, they're looking at Rioichi, and... Sly puts two and two together.
"So, you're...?"
"My daughter," Rioichi replies. His gaze is fixated on Sly; his expression is blank, and Sly suddenly starts to worry. What if he's come back too late? What if Rioichi's angry with him for taking so long...? Rioichi starts toward him, still whisper-silent even in his old age. "Sly-san," he murmurs when he's an arm's length away. "I had always hoped, but..."
"I did promise," Sly replies.
And Rioichi... fucking beams at him, lets out a smile so brilliant it practically lights up the room, and Sly's almost too dumbfounded to grin back.

Moon
They run together under the full moon, taking turns chasing each other, and Sly marvels at Rioichi's agility. His eyesight may be failing and his hands tremble whenever he thinks Sly isn't looking, but he's still got it; each leap is graceful and precise, and he runs across ropes like he's thirty again.
Rioichi snags his hand and Sly yelps because he had not been that close two seconds ago (those damn dragon leaps, how does he do that?). He half-turns and tenses, ready to jump after Rioichi, but... he's not going anywhere. He leans forward, instead, and Sly realizes their fingers are still lightly entwined. Rioichi presses his nose into the base of Sly's ear - not quite a kiss, but it's close, and a half-forgotten memory from a week ago resurfaces. Sly stares. Rioichi smiles.
Then he leaps away, and Sly continues to stare after him. Then he kind of has to laugh because he's done the exact same thing to Carmelita how many times now? Talk about being beaten at his own game.
Sly jumps after him, and the chase continues.

Bonds
When Sly and Murray bring the Tiger back to the safehouse, Salim immediately heads for him and kneels in front of him, running his hands over his shoulders, down his sides, gently easing the collar off of his neck.
"Rusul," Salim murmurs.
The Tiger rolls his eyes but he smiles and pats Salim's shoulder. "I am fine, you silly worrywart."
Sly hides his smile and leaves them to it.

Weakness
There is a crash and a muffled curse from the safehouse's main room, and Sly is on his feet almost before he's fully awake. Funny how old habits came back so fast, wasn't it? - and of course none of the others had woken up, though Carmelita twitches an ear before rolling over. (And god, it was still strange to sleep in seperate places, to wake up and not be able to brush the hair from her face.)
Salim isn't here.
Sly feels a twinge of dread. The man loved sleeping, something must have happened... had he heard something, gone to investigate, ended up caught? (And really he has got to stop automatically assuming the worst when it comes to his ancestors but it's kind of hard not to.)
There is, however, no use in standing there and hoping the answers will magically arrive, so Sly picks up his cane and pads out into the main room. The sunlight filters down through the cave's opening, though weakly, since it's sometime in the morning and the sun's on the wrong side of the entrance right now. It is, however, just enough to see the silhouette of Salim, crouched on the floor, attempting to... sweep something up? Well, that explains the crash. It doesn't explain what he's doing up in the first place, however.
"Salim," Sly whispers, stepping closer. "What the hell...?"
Salim jumps and drops whatever he's sweeping, which prompts him to swear again. "Sly. Thank you so very much for giving me a heart attack. Very appreciated at my age."
Sly rolls his eyes, by now more than used to Salim's... prickliness. "What happened?"
"Are you blind? I'm making sure none of us are going to receive the gift of glass shards in our feet by tomorrow, what do you think I'm doing?"
"No, I mean why are you awake?"
Salim stops. He actually just... stops, freezes up completely from eartip to tailtip. "Nature called."
Sly's tempted to just take that explanation and leave it, because he is far too tired to engage in verbal jousting with Salim, but his conscience demands that he try to get the actual answer. "Really."
"Yes. What are you, my mother?" Salim sighs and straightens up, folding his arms. His tail flicks behind him, quick and jerky.
Okay, maybe pressing it was a bad idea. "Alright. I'm going back to bed, then. Hammock, whatever." He turns to leave, one ear pointed back to try and hear any reaction Salim might have. At first he's pretty sure there's going to be nothing, but then there's a muted sigh...
"I couldn't sleep, alright? So I was going to go for a walk."
Sly turns around and frowns. Salim no longer looks hostile, or defensive, more like... completely exhausted. He's rubbing his face with one hand, the other on the table to help keep him upright, and his entire posture is lax, from his dipped head to droopy tail. Something is definitely going on here... "Are you okay?"
There's a long pause. "...No."
Sly realizes that something is very wrong indeed. "Do you... do you want to talk about it?" He steps forward, hesitantly, not entirely sure what he should be doing right now. If it were Carmelita or Bentley or Murray, sure, but Salim was just too much of an unknown.
Salim shakes his head, and then promptly contradicts himself. "Yes. Maybe it would help."
Sly puts his hand on Salim's shoulder, and when he isn't thrown off he presses down, guiding him away from the table and over to where the van rests in its niche. The broken whatever it is can wait.
They both sit down, Salim hunching over and continuing to rub at his face, Sly keeping his hand resting on Salim's shoulder. He doesn't seem to be reacting to the contact, but it doesn't seem to be hurting anything, either; maybe he's like Carmelita and won't outwardly show just how much it helps.
"I can't sleep," Salim mutters. "Not just today. For months. I get an hour or two and then I wake up. Every time, there is a dream. Screaming, panic. Then the wings, blocking out the stars..."
Sly winces. He knows very well where this is going, because he'd dreamed the same thing for years. Woken up screaming from the nightmares more than once, in fact, and managed to thoroughly terrify Bentley and Murray. That had not been a fun time.
"I can't move. Ghaliya turns to me, and she..." Salim takes a deep breath. It's probably supposed to be calming, but it isn't working; Sly can feel him trembling. "She's torn open, but she isn't dead, and she asks why I didn't protect her, or anyone. The sand is so red..."
Salim takes another deep breath, but this one is shuddering, and Sly suddenly becomes acutely aware that he's crying. Sly's at a loss as to what he should do, because comfort isn't really his strong suit, especially not with someone he barely knows. So he puts his arm around Salim's shoulders and waits quietly for him to ride it out.
"Please," Salim murmurs, and his voice is remarkably even. "Tell me stories of your time. Happy ones. Remind me that there is a point to all this."
But the timeline, Sly thinks, and then he realizes it doesn't really matter. Salim doesn't have long. It hurts to think it, but he doesn't. Even if he weren't currently acting as bait to Clockwerk, he is somewhere in his sixties, and for 1001 AD that is rather old indeed. And besides, he hadn't even told any of the thieves they'd rescued what exactly was going on, and they went back a long, long ways. If he could keep it secret from them, he could keep it secret from anyone.
"Alright," Sly murmurs back. "I guess I'll start at the beginning. I met Bentley and Murray when I was eight, and we pulled our first heist when I was nine: stealing cookies from the headmistress of the orphanage..."

Hell
A week and a half later, Bentley returns. Penelope has never been so glad to see him in her life.
She's the one to come to him, and she calmly lets Inspector Fox slap the cuffs on her. If it's a choice between the hell of the last week and a prison in 2012, she'll gladly take the prison. Her willingness to go confuses him, she can tell; as far as he knows she's been dodging Galleth and trying to rebuild her army. She'd have no reason to be caught, from his perspective.
(He hasn't noticed the three rips in her suit yet, from when she'd forgotten herself and talked back to Clockwerk, and he'd snatched her up in his enormous talons. She's not sure if she wants him to notice them.)
She doesn't try to talk to him, and he doesn't try to talk to her, and she's okay with that. Still, in that moment she loves him more than she ever has because he's saved her again, even if he doesn't know it. It makes her wonder if she should try and fix what she's done, if she should tell him - about the work she's been forced to do, about who's been forcing her to do it, about the blueprints sitting on a table back in her workshop.
And then she thinks: no. The timeline's come full circle. If he tries to change it now, he'll erase everything. This is one secret she'll have to carry with her to the grave.
Bentley glances back at her. She can only meet his gaze for a few moments before dropping it. He's never looked so cold, but then she can't blame him. If only he'd seen it her way... but if he'd seen it her way, none of this would have happened. Not the Cooper Vault job, not their relationship, not anything. Funny how things work out.
"I'm sorry," she murmurs, quietly enough that Murray and Inspector Fox can't hear her. She's not talking about siding with Le Paradox.
Bentley looks away. Penelope wonders if she's traded one hell for another.