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_Jenny's bakery, some weeks ago... _

"Give 'er another for me, eh squire?" the hyena chuckled as he left the bakery.

Humor had often played a pivotal role in Tuck's business, or rather his self-appointed business. He was roguish in every sense of the word that did not imply handsomeness, for he was a spotted, gruff faced thief with deep, wide-set eyes. And he was currently on the job.

Tuck had actually left Jenny's bakery to go meet with his employer and tell him about the Professor's apprentice and his new girlfriend, although he was a little reluctant about this latest endeavor. Tuck wasn't a spy, he wasn't a grasser; he was a thief, and his skills were being wasted with all this cloak-and-dagger faffing about.

As he walked deep into the Market District he tried his best to look at the job objectively: he was being paid to trail Jim in order to case the Professor's workshop, and possibly Jim's own residence. But the fact was that there was nothing of value to a thief in either location. Tuck had done a quick sweep of the workshop when a door had been left ajar, and it was all just bits and bobbles of machinery. You could get that junk for a copper at any metalsmith's shop, and it was all assembled into esoteric functions that required a professional understanding to see any value.

There hadn't been reports of major theft in the Industrial Commons for years, and with good reason. If you stole something from an expert craftsman, you had to sell to an expert craftsman, and there wasn't any point if what you grabbed turned out to be a fancy salad chopper. Or worse, a patented-prototype salad chopper that couldn't be fenced at all except for scrap. In a society that so heavily valued intellectual property, stealing from an inventor was like stealing from a policeman; you were that much more likely to get pinched.

So, the pay had to be good, and it was, but the hyena thought something was definitely off about this whole thing. So as the days went by, Tuck just kept watching the young husky and it looked less and less like a worthy caper. The Professor kept all of his most valuable merchandise hidden and his earnings in a secure bank vault. Even the shiny little box of whorls and wires that seemed like the important part of their fancy flying machine was taken out and locked up after they were finished for the day, most likely to be stored in an elaborate safe of the Professor's own design.

"Well, well, Mr. Tucker, I see you have news for me?" a voice hissed from behind the hyena.

"That I 'ave, gov'" Tuck replied as he turned to the voice. His employer made it a point to sneak up behind him at every meeting, and it was becoming irksome.

"I believe I told you to refer to me as Mr. Rheis, or not at all, thief," the black panther narrowed his amber eyes dangerously.

"All righ', don' be croakin' knives at me for bein' friendly, Mis'er Rheis" Tuck whined, "I shadda'd the squire jes' like you asked. E's taken a shine ta' that lov'ly what works in the bak'ry on Elm an' Fourth."

"That's good to know Mr. Tuck, but surely not enough to require my valuable time," the panther hissed with venom in his voice.

"Well, I was thinkin' you could tell me what it is I be trailin' this pup for. I can' be schemin' me heist if I got no plink ta' lift," Tuck replied as he wrung his paws nervously.

The panther began a snarl of annoyance before catching himself and resuming his silver hiss, "Mr. Tucker I...I don't suppose it is too early to tell you the nature of this job you've undertaken," he said with a dangerous grin, "You haven't been following the apprentice so you can steal from their workshop. You've been following him so you can smuggle something into it."

"Eh..." Tuck hummed confusedly, "That be a backwards job, gov'. I thought yeh'd be wanted me to peel somethin' shinylike?"

"You know as well as I do that there is nothing of value in that bin," Rheis spat, "If you wish to receive your closing payment, you will smuggle a parcel into the workshop and place it into their flying machine."

Tuck was worried, this was definitely off, "I gots the righ' ta' know if I be bringing tickety bangs inta' this place, Mis'er. Ya' hired a thief and you ain' having me thief nothin'."

The panther's narrow eyes widened in barely suppressed fury, "I don't believe I hired you to ask questions, I hired you to as you are told," he said vindictively, "But to assuage your inappropriate suspicions, you will be smuggling in these," Rheis pulled out a sealed glass container full of reddish crystals.

"Pyros?" Tuck asked as he reached for the container.

"Yes, Pyrosteam crystals," Rheis quipped as he sharply replaced the container in the fold of his cloak, "Perfectly innocuous if left inside of their container. So I trust I don't have to explain to you the importance of placing the parcel carefully when you complete the job."

Tuck didn't think this made any more sense, but at least he wasn't smuggling in a bomb, "I don' know why you havin' me puts more dosh in than when I leaves, but the price be 'nough that I'd put twice that if ye'd ask me," he said at an attempt at finding out more about this backwards caper.

"That won't be necessary," Rheis replied, ignoring the hint, "You will receive the parcel the day that we expect you to smuggle it in. Until that time, I suggest you familiarize yourself with the layout," the panther pulled an ancient timepiece and a bag of coins from his voluminous cloak, "have the pup fix this for you, and here's your due wages."

Tuck took the items and turned to leave when he shuddered at Rheis's paw on his shoulder, "And I hope I don't have to tell you what happens if you fail in this task," he hissed venomously.

"You don' have ta' tell me twice, Mis'er Rheis," he said without turning, but he felt the hem of the panther's cloak brush his legs as Rheis sped away. This job just kept getting worse.

Tuck felt for his trusty pistol for comfort. He prided himself on never having to use it on the job, thinking that if there wasn't a situation he could talk or intimidate his way out of, it wasn't worth the murder charges. As a result, he made sure the pistol at least looked like it could take down an entire squadron of foes, even though it was a one-shot deal in reality. Tuck hoped fervently to keep that same round in the chamber before and after this strange venture...

"Well if it ain' the am'rous young squire," Tuck chuckled at the entrance to the Professor's workshop, "I din' know yeh tended this ol' repair crop."

"Oh yeah, I think I saw you at Jenny's bakery a couple weeks ago, didn't I?" Jim replied as he shook the hyena's hand, "Did you need something or...?"

Tuck pulled out the old watch he'd received from Rheis, "Well, I tells ya' the way it be, squire," he said moving into the workshop, "I gots me ticker what, and I jes' seen it ain' tickin'. Cryin' shame, cryin' shame," he said sadly as he held the watch out to Jim, "I's wonderin' if the good 'Fessor be in so's I can get me clock outta' the dock, it were passed down ta' me yeh sees."

"Well the Professor is out at the moment, but if you'd take a seat here I can see what I can do," Jim replied cheerily as he took the watch and navigated to a work table.

"Oh would ja' do tha' for me, squire? I'd be 'ternally grateful if ye'd gets me tickin' proper," the hyena simpered as he cast his gaze around the room, taking mental note of the stairs and paths through the workspaces.

Jim opened the back of the watch and started pulling out stripped cogs from the casing as he took their measurements.

"How much yeh charge us for this then, eh?" Tuck asked conversationally as he leaned to look around an old steel assembly of some kind.

Jim thought for a second as he tweaked the rusted spring of the timepiece, "Well, I'd say you're looking at at least five replacement parts, but they're all standard for this type of watch. Honestly I'm not sure how it could've been working at all up till now, it seems ancient. But parts and labor together, I say a silver should do it for a chance acquaintance like yourself," he smiled.

Tuck pretended to consider for a moment, "I don' know wha' the goin' rate is for this bosh, but I trust yeh's not to cheat an ol' salt likes me," he lied as he fished a silver piece and a ten copper coin out of his wallet and slapped them on the table, "An's here's a bit o' pretty for your bit o' pretty," he said with a harsh laugh. Most would have charged twice that amount for a repair like this, and Tuck was beginning to feel like a heel. What was the matter with him? He'd conned honest folks before, this was just another job.

"That's very kind of you, mister...?" Jim smiled as he continued working.

"Tucker, squire. Tucker as in 'I wouldn' want ta' fu--" A spring snapped out of the watch, neatly cutting off Tuck's crass joke as he drew back, "Whoops, me ticker don' much like me cussin' then," he finished with a roaring laugh.

Jim chuckled good naturedly as he stood, "Well, Mr. Tucker, I'll need to pop back to the supply closet for these parts," he picked up his measurement notes, "I'll be back in two ticks"

"Take yer time, squire, take yer time," the hyena chuckled as he watched Jim leave.

"...I don' much likes trickin' ya', squire," he muttered sadly to himself as he darted back to the curtain covering the back workspace. He poked his head in and saw the exit to the back of the shop, then rushed back to take his seat.

"I don' much like it at all..."

"What was that, sir?" Jim asked as he returned with the replacement parts.

"Jes' hummin' ta' meself, squire, don' pay me no mind. I ain' 'sir' to nobody neither," Tuck laughed softly.

Jim chuckled back, "Of course, Mr. Tucker." He began reassembling the watch with the new parts, carefully checking their action as he went.

"So's you an' that lov'ly maid wha's works in that bak'ry stills an item?" Tuck asked as nervousness creeped into his voice. He shouldn't be doing this, he shouldn't be getting to know his mark.

"Yes we are," Jim said with an affectionate sigh as he thought of Jenny, "She makes me feel..." he fell silent with a serene look on his face, and began winding the watch.

"Well tha' be the only thing ta' matter in this here coil o' ours," Tuck said with what he hoped was geniality, "We alls jes' trying ta' fin' what blocks out the grime, I says," he forced another small laugh. This Jim seemed like such a nice young man, but the job had to be done.

"Well, Mr. Tuck," Jim said as he held the watch up to his ear, "I think I have you tickin' proper," he smiled as he checked the timing against a piece he had brought from the supply closet.

"Oh for truly, squire?" Tuck said happily as he took the watch. It was working.

"Is there anything else I can do for you?" Jim asked as he stood up, "...Mr. Tucker?"

The hyena started and stood up quickly, "No, no, that's all me put back in order, that is," he said hurriedly, stuffing the watch into his coat, "Thanks ya' again, squire. It were...it were a real proper job that was."

"No problem at all, Mr. Tucker. Have a good day," Jim smiled as he showed Tuck to the door.

"Jes' 'Tuck', squire...jes' 'Tuck'..." the hyena muttered as he left quickly.

This is ridiculous, Tuck thought as he stomped down an alley. Gettin' all misty over some pup.

"I gotta' job ta' do," Tuck whispered as he took the watch out of his coat. He looked at it for a moment before throwing it against the alley wall. It popped open and spilled out rusty gears and pins, but there were a couple glittering new parts whispering shiny accusations among the old. Tuck snorted and hurried away. What a waste...what a waste...

"Do you have a plan, Mr. Tuck?" the panther hissed with narrowed eyes.

"Yeah, I knows what I need ta' do," Tuck replied softly.

"Excellent, you will receive the package at the dead-drop in one week, and it is to be delivered on the date of receipt at any point before midnight." Rheis took a harsh gulp of cheap bitter, "You can keep the watch as a portion of your payment, it should be worth a few silver."

"I's already sold it," Tuck replied angrily.

"That's why I like you, sneak," Rheis snorted, "Always looking for the profit, just like myself."

"Yeah," Tuck shot back as he swirled his unappetizing drink, "Jes' lookin' for the profit..."