In the shadowy alley behind the community center, Molly and Bill huddled over a crudely drawn map of the party room. The rain had started to drizzle, but their spirits were undeterred. "Alright, Bill," Molly began, her voice barely above a whisper, "the presents are under the table by the window. We'll have to be quick, in and out." Bill, a lanky man with a nose that had been broken one too many times, squinted at the map. "And the window's on the ground floor, right? No guards, no dogs?" Molly nodded, her eyes gleaming with mischief. "Just a bunch of kids and their parents. Easy pickings." Bill chuckled, running a hand through his greasy hair. "You know, I've never stolen from kids before. Feels a bit... wrong." Molly rolled her eyes. "Bill, we're not stealing from the kids. We're stealing from their parents. They can afford it." Bill shrugged, not entirely convinced. "If you say so, Mol." Molly checked her watch, a cheap plastic thing she'd picked up at a pawn shop. "It's time. Let's move." They slipped out of the alley, their footsteps silent on the wet pavement. The community center loomed ahead, its lights casting a warm glow into the night. They circled around to the side of the building, their hearts pounding in sync. Molly pointed at the window, a small smile playing on her lips. "There it is. The jackpot." Bill took a deep breath, then let it out in a rush. "Alright, Mol. Let's do this." They slipped through the window, their movements silent and practiced. The party was in full swing, the room filled with the sound of laughter and music. Molly and Bill exchanged a glance, then set to work. They moved like shadows, their hands dipping into bags, their eyes scanning for the most valuable loot. It was a dance, a rhythm they'd perfected over the years. They worked seamlessly together, their movements synchronized, their breaths barely audible. Suddenly, a small voice piped up from the corner. "Hey, what are you doing?" Molly and Bill froze, their hearts in their throats. They turned slowly, their eyes wide with surprise. A small boy, no more than five, stood there, his hands on his hips, his eyes accusing. Molly recovered first, a charming smile spreading across her face. "Well, hello there, little man. We're just... uh... helping Santa out. He's a bit busy this year, you see." The boy's eyes narrowed, but he didn't say anything. Molly held her breath, her heart pounding. Then, to her surprise, the boy nodded. "Okay," he said, then turned and walked away, leaving Molly and Bill staring after him in disbelief. Bill let out a low whistle. "Well, Mol. That was a close one." Molly grinned, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Come on, Bill. Let's get out of here. We've got presents to deliver." And with that, they slipped back out the window, leaving the party - and the little boy - behind. As they melted into the night, Molly couldn't help but laugh. "You know, Bill, I think we just became Santa's little helpers." Bill groaned, but Molly could see the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. And so, they disappeared into the night, their pockets full of presents, their hearts full of laughter. Another heist, another success. Just another day in the life of Molly and Bill.