Molly whipped off her hairnet and adjusted her gloves, peering up at Bill through the windowpane. The sign on the door read "Johnson's Kids' Christmas Party" in bold, flashing colors. Bill grinned, a wicked glint in his eye. "I told you, Molly, this gig's got low security. Just two people at home, and one of them's going to be out on a 'business call." Molly nudged him sideways, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "You forgot the most important security detail." "Remind me what that is, since you're not exactly a hand model." Molly struck a pose, one hand on the doorframe. "You're the one who got us jobs, Bill. We set up this whole thing for a reason, you know?" Bill shrugged, wiggling his eyebrows. "Just for kicks. Besides, I figured a group of sleepy-eyed toddlers is the perfect chance for us to catch some extra Z's." Molly raised an eyebrow. "You know what parents are, Bill. They're a whole 'nother level of crazy. One minute they're sitting at the TV, the next they're digging through their pockets, demanding answers." Bill chuckled. "Ah, but this is different. The parents will be distracted, and we can blend in like pros." Molly snorted. "You expect us to walk in here, sneaking around, and not raise a finger to the kid standing on the counter, yelling at the other parents about 'My precious!'?" Bill shrugged, a confident smirk spreading across his face. "Hey, I've played enough of those scenes for a living. Okay, Molly, you get the kids while I do a systems check." Molly followed him to the back of the house, her eyes roving over the maze of rooms. "Is the security system on?" "Yep, it's a nice setup – 108 volts, a motion sensor, and a real good view of the front window." "Uh-huh. And I'm sure that thing can withstand a good amount of falling from a great height." Bill winked at her, a sly smile spreading across his face. "Don't worry, Molly, we've got a plan. Now come check it out, we'll need the window to climb through." Molly's heart skipped a beat as she scanned the back door, her gloved hands cradling her .38, careful not to knock over any decorative snowflakes. "This is a new level of clever, Bill. You're not just heisting small stuff, you're doing it for the art." Bill chuckled, sauntering back into the living room. "Hey, someone's got to keep the classics alive. Pass, sweetheart." Molly floated over Bill and slipped past him into the kitchen, disappearing into the fray. "Just peachy. Oh no, the host is waving at us from behind the counter." "Well, when the cake says 'Merry Christmas!' it's time to get to work," she muttered, joining him in the fray.