"Hey... you hear somethin'?"

Sly Cooper became as still as a statue, cane in hand, the raccoon freezing mid-step across the rafters as the bulldog guard below him spoke to his companion.

"Huh? Like what?"

Not even risking looking down from his perch, Sly remained motionless. He could hear both of the guards sniffing at the air for several seconds. "Ah, you're just imagining things," the second guard declared eventually. "You're always jumpin' at shadows."

"I could've sworn..." the first guard muttered, but they both wandered off, and Sly breathed a sigh of relief as he resumed tip-toeing along the rafters. The guards here... weren't bright, but the mystery building owner was. The guards' patrols were long and hard to predict, they always went in groups, and the keys to the more highly-secured areas had been hard to get hold of. Nothing a master thief like him couldn't handle, of course, but they weren't making it easy. Or quick, for that matter. He'd already been in the compound for two hours, most of which had been spent hiding from the patrols that had the annoying tendency to linger in rooms while they were wandering around.

There was a gap in the rafters ahead of him, but it wasn't much of an obstacle; one graceful leap, hooking his cane onto a pipe to swing for extra distance, and he landed nimbly on the other side of the gap. Crouching down to stick the landing made him wince, however, bringing a new problem to his awareness: he'd been in here for so long that on top of needing to find a way into the vault, he needed to find a bathroom. Standing back up into an only slightly hunched position relieved the pressure on his bladder, and with renewed urgency, he crept forward across the support beam to the far wall, where an air vent offered a way around the security door down below.

The vents were a bit of a squeeze, slowing him further as he wiggled through them, taking care to avoid banging his knees or cane on the sides and attracting attention. Just as he got to the far end of the vent he heard a "Sly!" on his communicator and stopped, peering into the next room as he answered the call from Bentley. He couldn't see much, just the metal walls and some more support beams near the ceiling.

"Go ahead," Sly whispered.

"You can't touch the floor in this room, Sly. It'll set off the alarm." Sly poked his head out of the vent just a little and looked down: the room's floor was made entirely of large metal tiles – probably pressure plates.

"I see the door down to the vault," Sly whispered, holding up his binoculars so Bentley could see what he was looking at. A big security door with a keycard reader stood at the far end of the room, made of solid metal, and he couldn't see any vents close to it that might offer access. "No guards, though."

"Because of the floor, of course. That keycard you got earlier should open the door, but don't drop it. Even the slightest touch on the floor, and they'll all know you're here!"

"Got it," Sly acknowledged, before quietly asking, "By the way, you've got the building plans, right? I don't suppose you know where the nearest bathroom is?"

"Focus, Sly!" Bentley chastised him, "We're almost done. Just get in there."

Sighing, Sly put the binoculars away and began crawling his way across the rafters towards the security door. Getting over to it wasn't too difficult, but then came the hard part: opening the door without touching any of the pressure plates. If only he'd brought some rope! Instead he had to hook his cane around the rafter and hang from it, and even that didn't get him close enough to the keycard reader. "How do they open this thing normally?" he wondered aloud.

"When they open the door to this room, it turns off the pressure plates," Bentley told him. "But that door is heavily guarded! You'll never get in that way."

Sighing, Sly tried to figure out how to get the door open, squirming while hanging from his cane as the pressure in his bladder remained a constant background annoyance. Even if he swung he couldn't quite reach, and the reader wasn't at a good angle to simply throw the card in. If there had been a door handle he might have been able to stand on it, as his feet could just about reach, but...

An idea came to him, and with one hand holding his cane, he used the other to fish out the keycard, bringing his legs upward. He winced again as raising his legs put pressure on his bladder once more, but he'd just have to bear it. Slipping the keycard between his feet, he kept them together as he lowered his legs again and tried to insert the card into the reader that way. It took a few tries before he finally got it in the slot, but with a beep, a green light came on and the door slid open automatically, revealing a staircase beyond.

"Nice job, Sly!" Bentley told him, but Sly was preoccupied with getting down. Swinging on his cane to build up a little momentum, he unhooked it on the forward swing and landed inside the door on the stairs, letting out a groan of discomfort as he crouched to absorb the impact. "Sly, are you all right? Did you hurt yourself landing?"

"No, I'm not hurt, just... let's get this over with," Sly replied, hurrying down the stairs. The door closed behind him automatically and when he got to the bottom, a light came on, revealing the vault and its contents. "Whoa...!" Sly exclaimed, bringing up his binoculars for Bentley's benefit. There was even more loot here than he'd thought: stolen goods from half the world over had been hidden away here. Gold glittered from every shelf, table, stand and display case in sight, most of it statues, some of it coins and jewelry. Gemstones encrusted many of the pieces he could see as well, and a big safe at the back promised even more riches. It was a veritable hoard of wealth that needed to be returned to its proper owners, but for now he had only one specific target in mind.

"So, how are we going to get this out?" he asked Bentley as he made his way to the safe. This one was much heavier duty than he normally had to deal with, but that problem he'd already solved earlier, even if it had taken a good half-hour to sneak back out of the guard room once he had found the code.

"There's a hatch leading to the sewers under the floor," Bentley explained. "It only opens from the inside, and it's too tough to break through, so I had to get you in here first."

The sewers. Unpleasant, but covert, and importantly, a good opportunity to relieve himself. Sly spun the dial on the safe, paying close attention to it as he put in the code. "Okay. This operation took forever, but at least we're finally done..."

The safe door opened when he put in the last part of the combination, revealing even more riches. Diamonds, stacks of cash, and in the center of it all, a statuette that barely fit inside, made of gold and encrusted with gemstones. Sly reached out and grabbed hold of it–

–and immediately realized that a statue that size made of solid gold was incredibly heavy. "I can barely budge this thing!" Sly grunted, giving it another tug. Was it stuck on something? No, it was moving, just... barely. He pulled harder, straining his muscles, letting go quickly when he nearly lost control of his aching bladder. He had to quickly cross his legs to avoid an accident, and shook his head. It was just too heavy.

"Okay... that's not a problem, I'll send Murray in," Bentley told Sly.

"Yeah, I can carry it, no problem!" Murray's voice cut in over the communicator. "Just open up the secret entrance so I can get in through the sewers!"

Always quick with a back-up plan. "Where is it?"

Bentley directed him over to a suspicious part of the floor, where Sly found a seam and a concealed handle. Hooking his cane into the gap, he lifted up the covering and found a big, heavy hatch like the kind found on ships, set into the floor. Just as he bent over to grab the wheel, grunting as doing so made his full bladder twinge, Bentley suddenly contacted him again. "Sly, someone's coming!"

"What?" he whispered, quickly turning the wheel on the hatch. "Did the alarm sound?"

"It seems like they noticed the vault was opened outside of its scheduled times. There's a whole bunch of guards heading your way! Find somewhere to hide!"

"Wait, get the hatch open first!" Murray called out.

"On it, buddy," Sly reassured Murray as he gave the wheel another tug. It was heavy and in dire need of some oil, but he managed to turn it into its open position just as he heard footsteps coming down the stairs, getting perilously close. He tried to lift the hatch himself, but it was just too heavy for him to budge, and he didn't have time to think of something.

Closing the cover over the hatch so the guards wouldn't notice it had been opened, Sly pushed the door on the safe closed, and barely managed to duck behind it just in time before the guards reached the bottom of the stairs. Flashlights swept over the room even though it was already lit, and Sly's eyes darted around as he looked for a better hiding spot. The safe only hid him from one direction.

"See anything?" a voice barked out.

"Not yet, sir," a guard replied.

"Spread out and look around. Find whoever opened the vault off-schedule and bring them to me in chains."

Sly counted a good dozen or so "Got it, boss"es and similar acknowledgements. There was a table close by with an elaborate, red and gold-threaded cloth hanging over its edges: not perfect, but it would do to start. He darted under it, sitting on the floor with his legs drawn close – both to his body, and to each other, as he struggled to avoid making a mess of himself.

"I'm comin' Sly, hang on!" Murray reassured him over the communicator. Sly kept quiet, using one finger to draw back the fancy cloth slightly so he could look for another hiding spot to move to. There were footsteps all around him and flashlight beams dancing all over the floors and walls; he was safe for now, but disaster wasn't far off. Both for his chances of remaining stealthy, and his chances of keeping his bladder contained.

"Doesn't look like anything's been taken," one guard grumbled.

"Safe's still closed."

"Hatch is shut."

"Think it was just a glitch in the system?"

Their boss's voice cut through the air. "Shut up and get back to searching! Someone was here, I know it! Find them!"

For a brief moment all of the guards were looking towards the stairs as their boss yelled at them, giving Sly the chance to relocate. A big stack of wooden boxes near the wall provided just barely enough room for him to squeeze through, and he gritted his teeth as his belly and over-full bladder were pressed against the wall. But he slipped into the space between the crates, the wall, and the big display case next to them. He was completely out of sight, and he gave a quiet sigh. That was one problem taken care of...

"Hey, Sly?" Murray's voice came over the communicator. "Did you ever find that bathroom you were lookin' for?"

"No," Sly whispered back. "I'll be fine, just hurry." In contrast to his words, Sly wasn't at all confident he would make it. He needed to keep as still as he could now, and with nothing else occupying his mind or his body, his bladder was making its need to empty all the more apparent, sending a pang of desperation through him every now and then that made him shiver. Reaching between his legs, Sly brushed his long fur aside to grip at his sheath tightly with his free hand, hoping that that would be enough to avoid a spill.

"Well, I'm asking 'cause I didn't go before we left the base, and I was thirsty waiting in the van, and so now I've really gotta go too," Murray told him.

"Murray, you're in a sewer," Bentley pointed out. "It's already disgusting and gross down there, you won't make it any worse. Just go anywhere."

"I've gotta help Sly!" Murray insisted. "I'm getting closer! I think. It's just hard because there's all this water around, and it keeps splashing, and there's these pipes with more water just pouring out..."

Sly groaned quietly and pressed his legs tighter around his hand, shifting from one foot to the other behind the crates. "Murray, you're not helping!" he hissed.

"Well yeah, I'm not there yet!" Murray replied, missing the point. "I'm coming as fast as I can! These pipes are slippery, though..."

Sly took a deep breath and turned his attention back to the guards nearby, wiggling in place as he fought against his bladder. The guards were still walking around, and sometimes the flashlight beams passed right over the crates he was hiding behind. On occasion he heard things being moved around, but none of them thought to check in his hiding spot, mercifully. But even if he wasn't being detected, it was getting harder and harder to hold in his piss, enough that he soon had to lean his cane on the wall so he could grip his loins with both hands while he squirmed around.

"There's nobody here, boss," one of the guards announced.

"Idiots!" came the reply, "We know someone opened the door. If they came back up the stairs we'd have seen them. And if they'd gone through the hatch it would have been uncovered. They're in here somewhere! NOBODY is leaving this room until you find the intruder!"

Sly suppressed a groan as he heard the guards' footsteps spreading out again. "Bentley, you got any ideas?" Sly whispered, "I'm not going to make it without some help..."

"I'm coming, I'm coming!" Murray promised. "It's just... hard to run when I've gotta pee so bad..."

"Just stay put, Sly. I'm doing what I can to stop Murray from getting lost. ...much." Bentley's words weren't as reassuring as Sly would have liked, but he had bigger problems. The raccoon gritted his teeth as his desperation grew, shifting back and forth from one foot to the other with both hands between his legs to squeeze at his sheath as hard as he could. A heavy shudder ran through him from head to toe and he nearly lost control, his knees buckling, but he held on... barely.

"I don't think I'm gonna make it, Sly!" Murray groaned out over the communicator.

"What's wrong?" Sly whispered, "Did someone find you? Are you hurt?"

"No, I mean... I've gotta go, I... I can't hold it any mooooooore! Sorry, Sly!"

"Murray-"

"Uhn! I can't stop it! It's coming out! There's so much of it!" Murray cried out, and the sound of loud splashing reached the communicator.

"Murray, you're making it worse-" Sly began, wincing heavily. He had to stand on one leg, crossing the other over his hands as he fought against his bulging bladder.

But Murray's accident went on, and so did his moans. Too concerned about what might happen if he removed a hand to mute the communicator, Sly had no choice but to listen to Murray's sighs of relief and groans as he pissed himself, somewhere below Sly. Bentley had nothing to say, and Sly could only imagine it was from the turtle having his face buried in his hands in disappointment.

Sly was about to chastise Murray again, only to hear footsteps close by, and he kept his mouth shut, trembling in place. The raccoon squirmed and wiggled on one foot, sometimes switching over to the other, taking a sharp breath when he felt wetness against the palm of one hand. In response he squeezed even tighter, knowing he was fighting a losing battle – not just against his own needs but the sounds of Murray's release in his ear constantly.

Murray quieted down eventually and let out a "Whew!" before taking a breath. "Sorry about that, Sly. I feel so much better now! Gosh, there was just so much! I didn't know I could even hold that much pee in me! I think I was going for two solid minutes! But it felt so good to just let it all out, ohhhhh..."

Sly's teeth ground together, but Murray's words were the last straw. He felt a burst of piss against his hand, and he adjusted his grip to squeeze harder, allowing even more to leak out. He stemmed the flow for only a brief moment before piss gushed from his sheath again and poured over his fingers, his bladder refusing to be denied any longer. Sly kept his mouth shut tightly to stifle his groan of defeat, trying vainly to cut off the stream by re-crossing his legs, but all he accomplished was soaking his inner thighs in urine.

His piss poured down his legs, soaking his fur and darkening it visibly, and he shivered heavily. "Hey, Sly?" he heard over the communicator, but he didn't reply, eyes shut tight as he tried to clench his muscles, but they refused to listen to him. With his legs crossed, every drop of piss flowed down his legs, reaching his boots, some of it running over the outside while the rest poured down to his feet. It was all he could do to keep quiet, and a puddle started to form around his feet as his release dragged on, his arms and legs quivering.

"Sly?" Murray repeated again. "You there?"

"Yeah..." Sly replied, breathlessly, feeling the warmth cascading down his legs.

"I'm right under you now! I must've gone past this ladder about five times, I only just realized it's the one I needed... hope you're all right up there!"

Sly took a deep breath. His thighs were drenched, and he could feel the piss inside of his boots making his feet wet. His hands were soaked too, and both his sheath and his balls were as wet as could be. Even though he had thoroughly lost control, he kept his hands where they were – if he moved them now, the splashing of the last of his piss might give him away.

"I think both of you are going to need a shower the moment you get back," Bentley muttered, exasperated.

"No arguments there," Sly agreed. Feeling his bladder finally empty, he took his hands away from his crotch. The guards were still roaming around, and he took a step to peek around-

His boot gave a loud, wet squish. "What was that?" a guard called out.

"Now, Murray, now!" Sly hissed. He was about to get into an even bigger mess...
