Molly and Bill huddled in the shadow of Big Ben, the chime’s final toll a reminder of the mischief to come. Bill’s brows arched, surveying the colorful flyers sprawled across his lap. “Tomorrow’s the day, eh, Molly?” he asked, the excitement barely contained. With a wink, Molly pulled out a shiny foil-wrapped pack of gum. "Do you smell a whiff of excitement yet, Bill?" “Cleaner breath for the party hazard, eh?" Bill quipped back, unwrapping the gum. "But let’s get down to brass tacks. The children's party operates under three security flaws." "First, the lady of the hour stays unusually late chatting with guests, begs for a favor which turns, of course, to undercooked peas." "Second," Bill added, munching on his wisdom-providing gum, "is the house's CCTV, all wonky, plays favorites, blinks at exactly midnight." "And thirdly,” Molly drummed her fingers on the Metro Waterloo bill, “is the unsuspecting revelers mesmerized by the dotingly carved elephant beside the Christmas tree." "Lady's eyes might wander, peas might end up on her plate, but only if the elephant decides to take a patient watch over her," Bill mused. "Right,” Molly nodded, “We should swap the elephant in for the pre-recorded rumble of 'Jingle Bells' at the stroke of twelve, and nobody stands a chance." “D’you have the controls for that?" "Lying low's my weak binary. But my brother Tony's a whiz with these nano-tricks. I’ll fetch him." "Perfect. We rendezvous at the Greyfriars for guidance in thievery mode.” As night crawled over London, hidden tales of travel and two ambitious crooks weaved through the establishment's clink and clatter. A story whispered through the passersby and shedding a smile on the wind, embracing the very mischief that lived within its pulse. Molly leaned in, her conspiratorial smile as deep as a Dickensian trench, "Tony's already onto us. But think it – every moment’s a write from history with these gals and gents committing petty crime.” Bill chuckled, thumbing over another pack of gum, “Oh, the laugh’s on us, especially when mom-and-dad boogie watch gifts are posted on everyone’s love’s tree.” “Riveting,” she drawled, "but don’t forget, if we’re late and they blame it on the elephant, you owe me a pint." With a shared knowing glint, they parted, the London skyline a canopy over their departure. The notes of “Do They Know it’s Christmas,” floating apart from them, the anticipation of the christen nights wrapped around their arms as snugly as the foil that held the gum, secure in the knowledge of their craft, the pilfering pair stepping softly into the TogethernessJacket of the night's caper.