Molly and Bill sat on an upturned bucket outside the mobiously themed party hall, the chatter of excited children echoing through the half-open door. The place was, as per their intel, crammed with a variety of children's gifts: plush toys, gadgets, and all the educational puzzles one could desire. "Are you sure this is worth it?" Bill asked, absently playing with a balloon tied to his wrist. It'd only been ten minutes, and already the squeaks of inflated mirth were testing his nerves. Molly slapped him on the back with a grin. "Bigger haul tonight than the entire McMillan Street, sweetheart. Think of all those brand new consoles and gadgets we could flip on the dark web." "Eh, kids are lousy with secrets," Bill shrugged, his gaze drifting to the cups of fake ice-cream being devoured by tiny hands. "They might spill the beans on us while sucking downwards." "Relax, Bill. It's all in the distraction." Molly patted her pockets, checking the fake IDs and maps they'd gotten in on the down-low. "We'll just blend in, grab the goods, and scoot. Piece of cake." Bill raised an eyebrow. "A cake that's pretty much as flimsy as your charades, no offense." "None taken," Molly retorted, her grin widening. "Now, let's overhear some kiddie bin-chatter and tailor our 'disguises' from the lay of the land." Scribbling on a scrap of paper, she detailed their strategy: 'Operation Gift Grab.' "See that corner?" Molly tapped her pen twice. "The one with the inflatable castles. Lots of distraction opportunities." Bill snorted. "Just don't lose yourself in the bouncy world, Molly. Still don't understand your obsession with pink castles." "It's simple décor analysis, Bill. Designs that appeal to this age demographic can be leveraged for blending in." She shrugged off his comment, her fingers dancing over her smartwatch. They slipped inside, their playful banter subdued as they mingled with stuffed dragons and intergalactic heroes. Delicate care took Molly's hands as they brushed against the piles of potential loot. "Careful, momentum goals over here," Bill joked, pointing to the stacked presents in the far corner. Molly rolled her eyes, feigning a scowl. "Please, Bill, mind your plate. We've trained in advanced print-sealing." As party favors bounced and miniature kazoos wailed, the thieves moved swiftly, snatching up presents, stuffing them into concealed compartments under their kid splinter costumes. "Looks like we're on target for the masterpiece you owe me after that last botched job," Molly whispered as she pocketed a high-tech board game with a soft electronic hum. Bill smirked, eyeing a particularly shiny object. "Keep dreaming. But look!" He pointed at a sleeping child with a backpack. The backpack was bulging - a potential hidden stash of gifts. "Expedient," Molly agreed, nudging him away. "But strictly off-limits." They stood at the doorstep minutes later, a canvas bag bulging oddly between them. "Good riddance," Bill sighed, flattening a balloon underfoot. "Just another night of heroics - protection of money and educational value from ungrateful rugrats," Molly quipped, tossing her wig in the air triumphantly. "What's next? Jewelry heist at a dog show?" Molly threw the wig in her bag and flicked Bill a grin. "Kids with jewelry? I'd call that a real party." And with a shared shrug and semblance of relief, they melted into the bustling nightlight of the city.