Pickpocket Brigade

The Boys Were Late

It was dark. With the moon clouded by the thickest of fog. A girl, no more than eighteen, stood at the corner of Picket and Daniels. She stared out into the fog as if she were waiting for something or even someone to appear right in front of her. Her emerald eyes peered into the darkness. Her foot wrapped in leather tapped ever so lightly at the granite curb. The laces bounced up and down against them. She sighed, letting out a mist of breath. Her hands resting in her pockets, she stood impatiently. She fixed her navy top hat and folded her arms. She hated waiting.

As the clock hit two minutes after forty. Three figures appeared out of the fog. They wore extravagant clothing as if they were headed to a 1920s dinner party. But their faces were blanketed by a mask. A face of a primate and body of a human as they stopped into the middle of street.

"Do you need watches gentlemen," the girl asks as she steps off the curb, her grim expression forms a smile, "Or do you need a map?"

One figure, clothed in red, looks at his brothers and steps forward, "She calls us gentlemen! She talks as if she knows us!" His hands rest on his waist, gold rings gleam by the lamp post lights.

The other with a gold pocketwatch dangling by his fingers nods, "I do believe she just did. I think she may be mocking us! Making a joke that isn't very funny."

"Only one person would call us gentlemen," the last says as fixes his scarf shining his own gold watch around, "And that person is far too ugly to be you."

The girl grins as she tips her hat, "At least take off your masks boys, so I can see your faces, and you can tell me why you have planted yourselves in rainy London."

"She wants us to reveal ourselves!"

"To drop the facade?"

"How despicable," the one with the pocket watch says twirling it expertly around his fingers.

The girl rolls her eyes, "Gentlemen?" They all look at each other and shrug. They tug of their masks and toss it to the side without any disregard. They all grin with trouble dripping out their ears. "What are you doing here?"

"We were discussing something, Miss," says the red one as they all start to circle her.

"An adventure, Jack," the scarved one says following his lead. "In a proper meeting with coffee and cookies."

"Yes, Peter, an adventure with my brothers and well it just seemed like a jolly old time," Jack says practically skipping.

Peter nods as he pushes Finn, the one with the pocket watch, along, "Yes. And after meeting up-."

"Then drinking quite a bit of merlot," Jack says.

"And discussing last meeting's minutes-," Finn says dancing around her.

"Then trudging along to discussing the actual topic of the matter and of course bringing in the brandy," Jack cuts in.

"We had a bit more scotch and reviewed this meeting's minutes," Peter says.

"And we decided that it would be incredibly boring if we didn't include our own little miss in our feat," Finn says chuckling.

"So we decided to have an adventure," voice says from behind the girl.

The girl turns around and sees Will. The oldest and the cleverest of the brothers. Sharp and handsome. He stood, leaning against a telephone booth with a velvet box in hand. A big black bow rested on top tempting her to open it. A cheeky grin occupied his face as he collected himself. His brown eyes sparkled with excitement, with a new kind hope. The special look that would sweep a girl right off her feet. He wore a black vest and a maroon cravat rested lightly on his chest. Black suited him well, he wore it with pride. A gold chain dangled on his vest, matching his brothers. Gold. A blue cloak rest on his arms, presumably for her.

"Good evening Arielle," he says walking up toward her, "It has been too long."

"Wilbur," Arielle says smiling, "It has certainly...been too long."