Countdown
Sora glanced down at his watch, the dim glow of its hands barely discernable in the dark. Three minutes. He tugged his hat down a little lower, just in case. His unruly hair always had a tendency to escape, and that was something he wanted to avoid, this time.
He moved soundlessly across the lawn, keeping low, ducking into the darker corners as he went. A silent shadow, creeping in the night, in the black suit of anonymity.
He took the porch stairs with the grace of a cat, not a creak sounding in in the old wood as he approached the door. A quick study of the locks before he produced the proper pick. The sound of crickets singing louder than the sound of the tumblers falling into place. Then the deadbolt, only a little louder. Neither of them much of a challenge.
Two minutes.
The door protested with a small squeak, hinges needing oiling, but that couldn't be helped. Sora pushed it closed behind him, eyes darting to find the blinking light of the alarm system. He had thirty seconds to disarm it. He knew that from the manual. He also knew how to manually reset it without triggering it. That would save time. Gloved fingers hesitated above the panel for a moment, then tapped the sequence of buttons with confidence. Small green light, constant. Go.
Down the hall, then up the flight of steps, slipping slowly, cautiously into the study where his objective lay.
One minute.
Sora's information had only indicated the room, not the exact location, and he bit his lip, eyes probing the semidarkness for any sign of it on the bookshelves, on the desk, or even framed on the walls. Nowhere in the open. He began searching the drawers. Nothing.
Thirty seconds.
He turned back the bookshelf, pulling out the thickest volumes to check for a hidden compartment. It was more common than he would've thought, when he first had taken up this line of work, and it proved fruitful yet again.
His hands closed over the chain and the metal sculpture attached to it, depositing it in his pocket before tucking the false book back into place.
"Zero." The word was breathed in his ear.
Sora stiffened, feeling the cold metal of the knife at his throat. He hadn't heard the man come up behind him, but that in itself didn't surprise him. He was the expert, after all.
"Riku, I got it!" he hissed.
"But you didn't get out." The words were so low, he wouldn't have heard them had they not been so close.
"No one even noticed—"
"I did." Sora felt the warmth at his back shift; the knife retreated from his throat. "And now that I've caught you…" Teeth bit down on Sora's earlobe, silky hair tickling his neck. He shuddered.
"Are you serious? Here?"
A dark chuckle. "Why not?"
"The job."
A low hum as Riku's hand felt into his pocket, withdrew with the target item. "This is mine, Sora. This is my office."
Sora tried to turn, but hands on his hips stopped him. "You—you seriously had me burgle your own place?"
Teeth on his neck, now, making his toes curl. "It was a test, dumbass." Any further arguments on that point were cut off with a strangled cry of pleasure. "You passed, by the way."