Jily oneshots

It Was Always You

by DashFnanz

"Okay, mates, I'm in their inner systems. Location?"

"Second floor hallway, east wing, right near the turn."

James keeps watch in the dim moonlight, his partner Sirius at his back. Not a sound.

"Location spotted. You're not visible on security—"

"When are we ever," James interrupts.

"—and I'm throwing the camera footage on a loop… now. Go."

He steals across the lengthy corridor on command, crouching low on the other end of the hallway and peering around the corner. Sirius' soft breaths brush against his shoulder.

"Anyone?"

"No," James whispers back to Sirius. Checks his watch. "But a guard should be due in one minute."

"Get back," Peter's voice comes in his ear. "Guard around the corner."

They slink back into the shadows into a nearby gallery, hiding instead behind the tall glass case that houses—

"The crown… Portugal… Sir Arthur Gilbert's donated collection." From his crouched position, Sirius softly reads bits from the attached placard. He looks up at the gleaming crown within its glass walls. "Gaudy. I like it. Think we can slip this in as well, Jamie?"

James rolls his eyes. "Eye on the prize, Sirius. We need the Heart. This wouldn't be worth a third of the price that beauty is fetching us."

"I know, but this one is shiny," Sirius mutters.

"Guard's leaving," Peter's scratchy voice comes through their comms devices. James hears the dull thuds of booted footsteps fade away. "Move."

He exchanges a quick glance with Sirius and slinks out of the gallery.

They come up to a turning where the hallways intersect. "Left here," Sirius whispers, and James follows his lead. They head to the central exhibit on the floor, Peter temporarily switching off the motion detection and tampering with the cameras for each hallway and gallery they pass, warning them for every guard that patrols their way. Sirius would have happily knocked them out if needed, James knows, but they're not those kind of burglars.

They're the stealthy kind. Better. Faster. They're not robbers. They are thieves.

"Okay, we're here," James whispers to Peter when they are staring up at the big metal door blocking their access to tonight's target. "Code?"

"Give me a minute, I'm still getting through the last protocol barriers on this thing," Peter responds, muttering. "What kind of garbage control room are they operating here? Four separate computers just to store all this data…"

"Uh Pete, we're kind of standing targets; there is piss-all to hide behind here," Sirius interrupts his grumbling with a grimace, "So stop fucking around and get us in—"

"Shut the bloody hell up and let me work, Sirius," comes Peter's irritated voice.

"You should have thought this through, mate," he huffs to himself, and James slaps him upside the head and puts a finger to his lips.

"You're going to get us caught, dumbass," James whispers and pulls him to the side so that they're not standing right in the middle of the large hallway where anyone could see them.

He crosses his arms as he presses back into the dark wall, tapping his fingers against his biceps while they wait. Sirius fidgets impatiently beside him. He can't deny that he's starting to get worried—Peter is taking a while to acquire the passcode to their current predicament and by his calculations, a guard is due any moment. The central exhibit is patrolled more heavily than the others, and they cannot afford to be caught when they are so close to having what they came here for in the palm of their hands.