A very long chapter ahead 

A/N You can watch the video above after reading so you can get a better picture.
I hope you enjoy ❤️

Kongpob is fiddling with the radio as he drives into Paris, trying to find something to sing along to, when he hears his brother's name. The broadcast is in French, his understanding of which has decayed abysmally since high school, so he immediately pulls over to focus on it, ignoring the honking of the car he cut off to do so. It takes a moment, but he manages to get the gist of the story: the Suthiluck estate had just auctioned off a long lost Cezanne oil painting for over 500,000 dollars.

Kongpob turns off the radio, fingers drumming on the steering wheel as he tries to remember if there had ever been a Cezanne in their family's collection. He shouldn't automatically assume the worst, but then again, it was Jax. He pulls back onto the road with a sigh. He'd so been looking forward to a quiet vacation.

The Suthiluck villa is on the outskirts of the city, trees lining the driveway and hiding the obnoxiously opulent house from view. It had belonged to Kongpob's grandfather, who'd left it to Jax when he died. Jax had always been his favorite.

Kongpob is greeted at the door by the butler, who takes his bags from the car and leads him up to his room. Upon asking after his brother, he was informed that Jax had returned from the auction a few hours ago. Annoyed that he hadn't come down to greet him, Kongpob sets out looking for him.

A quick walk through the house reveals nothing, so Kongpob goes to the master bedroom and opens the wardrobe, pushing on the back panel to reveal a staircase. He loved this when he was little, a real secret passage like in the books and movies. It had been his hideaway whenever they'd come here to visit, before Jax had taken it over and made it his own.

As he'd feared, Jax is there, paintbrush in one hand, palette in the other, looking every inch the Serious Artist as he contemplates his easel.

"Just give me a second, I'm almost done," he says, dabbing a bit more paint onto his brush.

Kongpob moves to get a better look at the easel, mouth falling open as Jax carefully touches up the signature.

"There." He turns to Kongpob with a smile. "What do you think?"

It looks like a Van Gogh, right down to the artist's name painted in the corner. Kongpob isn't an art expert, but their family has an extensive collection and he's well versed enough to recognize the hallmarks. Part of him is impressed, but the rest is horrified.

"Really Jax? Another long lost masterpiece? I heard about the auction on the radio, you can't do this again so soon."

"Ah the auction, that was a triumph!" Jax says, standing to take off his smock.

"Someone is going to notice, Jax."

His brother ignores him as always, folding his smock and setting it on a table next to a jar, which he picks up excitedly. "Look at this. Real dirt from Van Gogh's neighborhood. I mixed it in with the paint. Nice touch of authenticity right?"

"Would you listen to me?" Kongpob's voice sounds louder than he'd intended in the tiny room.

"Calm down little brother, I know what I'm doing." Jax dusts off his hands and starts off down the stairs. Kongpob follows as he continues, "The Van Gogh will be displayed here for years gathering legitimacy before some millionaire convinces me to reluctantly part with it. Perfectly safe."

"It's also illegal. You could go to jail, Jax."

"Oh, would you stop being so dramatic?"

"You're calling me dramatic?" Kongpob slams the wardrobe door behind them as they emerge from the secret passage before continuing after Jax.

"I don't see what the big deal is, it's the family business after all."

"What, you mean Grandpa? Two people does not make it the family business!"

"Why not? Gramps taught me everything he knew and one day I'll pass it all on to my own offspring."

Kongpob shudders at the thought but was saved from responding by the appearance of the butler telling them that a Mr. Grammont is here from the Kléber-Lafayette Museum.

Dread rises in Kongpob as Jax exclaimes, "Excellent!" and rushes off, pausing by a mirror to run a hand through his hair and check his suit for paint stains. Kongpob follows him down to the entrance hall, watching his brother descend with his arms outspread in welcome until he reaches the small graying man holding a silver case. Surely Jax wasn't trying to pass off one of his fakes to a museum ? Even he couldn't be that stupid.

When Kongpob joins them at the bottom of the stairs, Jax pulls him over to make the introductions. Kongpob summons a polite smile as Mr. Grammont beams at him.

"It's a pleasure to meet you Mr. Suthiluck. I cannot thank you enough for your family's generous donation of the Cellini Venus."

Kongpob looks at Jax, startled. The Venus was one of the most valuable things in their grandfather's collection. Well, it would have been if it was real.

The look on his face must be awful because Jax gives a bright laugh and claps a hand on his shoulder, holding on with a too tight grip. "Don't worry little brother, it's only a temporary exhibition."

Kongpob frantically tries to figure out how to communicate how bad an idea this is as Jax leads Mr. Grammont to where the Venus is ensconced in its place of honor in their foyer. It's a small statue, only a foot or so tall, but last Kongpob had heard it was valued at one million dollars.

Mr. Grammont marvels while Jax looks on like a proud parent. Kongpob tries to catch his eye but Jax is listening intently as the museum director shows him his case and assures him of its safety as a means of transportation.

Together, the two of them carefully lower the Venus into the velvet lined slot that had been prepared for it. The statue's marble base is left behind and Kongpob picks it up, feeling its weight. If he 'accidentally' dropped it while moving it to the case, the Venus was sure to be damaged. It would be a shame to lose the statue, but it wasn't a real masterpiece and desperate times...

He gets himself into position over the statue but before he can act Jax snatches the base out of his hands and gently places it in its designated slot. Kongpob watches helplessly as Mr. Grammont closes and locks the case, sealing their doom.

There's another round of hand shaking and thank you's before the museum director finally leaves. As soon as he's gone, both brother's drop their fake smiles and round on each other.

"What were you thinking?" Kongpob hisses.

"What was I thinking? What were you thinking? This has been in the works for months and you almost ruined everything!"

"Statues aren't like paintings, Jax. They have all these fancy new tests they can use to date the stone." Jax scoffs and Kongpob's frustration grows. "I'm serious! I read about them. And a big museum like that definitely has the technology."

"Well then their so-called testing would be able to tell them that it was made before I was born. There's no way I could be the forger and they can't prove I knew Grandpa did it."

Kongpob groans. How was it that his brother always made him want to tear his hair out? "If the most famous piece in our collection is revealed to be a fake, don't you think anyone who's ever bought from you will want to get theirs tested? And those they can pin on you."

Jax remains unmoved. "Why would they even bother testing it? It's a donation for a temporary exhibition, they didn't lose any money on it and they have no reason to suspect a thing."

"But why even risk it?"

"Why risk it?" Jax laughs. "Kong, think about it. Our grandfather's statue in a world class museum, people coming from around the world to admire it. Doesn't that make you proud?"

Their grandfather surely would have loved the idea. And he had never gotten caught, right? Kongpob sighs. It's too late to do anything now anyway. "Just...be careful."

Kongpob begs off going to the grand opening of the exhibit, claiming jet lag. Truthfully he just doesn't think he can stand the stress, or the sight of Jax's preening. Besides, he's been looking forward to a quiet night alone.

His plans for an early bedtime fall by the wayside as he gets absorbed in the mystery novel he'd bought at the airport. It feels later than it is when he finally sets it aside, the old house dark and quiet. He's in the middle of putting on his pajamas when he hears the soft noise of footsteps coming from downstairs. He freezes. Jax had given all the servants the night off; there isn't supposed to be anyone in the house but him.

He waits, listening for the distinct sound of his brother's voice in the hope that he just returned early, but there's nothing. He's about to dismiss the whole thing as the product of an imagination run wild when he hears it again, definitely the sound of a person moving around.

Kongpob creeps out of his room to investigate, still in only his undershirt and pajama bottoms, sneaking along the dimly lit hall to peer down from the top of the stairs. Looking over the banister he sees a figure in the dark, running a hand down the frame of one of the paintings. A burglar!

What is he supposed to do? He can't call the police, the phone is downstairs with the thief. He looks back at the display case of antique pistols near the top of the stairs. They're purely decorative, but surely even a fake gun is better than nothing. As quietly as he can, Kongpob opens the case, picking out the least ancient looking one. Its weight is reassuring in his hand.

He tiptoes down the stairs, not wanting to alert the burglar until he's closer to the phone. Best to keep the element of surprise. Upon reaching the bottom he makes his way to the light switch and flips it on with one hand, raising the gun with the other. "Don't move!"

Kongpob screws up his eyes, momentarily blinded by the light, as the would-be burglar spins around in surprise. Wow, he didn't think handsome, well-dressed art thieves actually existed outside of the movies. Who knew?

"You must be the brother," the thief says in unaccented English, seeming only slightly concerned by his change in fortune. "The house was supposed to be empty. Why aren't you at the museum?"

"How do you know about that?"

He shrugs. "It's my business to know things like that."

Kongpob moves over to the phone, keeping his gun on the thief. He pauses after picking it up, trying to remember the number for the French police.

"Oh, come on, please don't call the police. Give me another chance."

Kongpob looks back up at the thief, who is making a poor attempt at wide eyed innocence, and finally registers the painting he'd been attempting to steal: Jax's Van Gogh, recently hung and probably without a paper trail invented for it yet. Another 'long lost masterpiece' that did not need to be in the news.

He slowly puts the phone down, trying to maintain eye contact, but gets the gun tangled up in the phone cord, which rather ruins the assertive effect he'd been going for. He also wishes he'd stopped to put on a dressing gown. The thief keeps looking at him.

"Is that even loaded?" the intruder asks, sounding amused.

"Yes," Kongpob lies. Feeling the upper hand slipping away, he tries to take the safety off, which ends up taking both thumbs to accomplish. Stupid antique.

"Alright," he says once everything is sorted out. He gets the distinct feeling the thief is laughing at him despite the fact he isn't making a sound. "You didn't actually take anything, so I'm going to let you off with a warning. And you ought to take this as a sign that you should really consider a career change."

"Oh, will do."

Kongpob notes with annoyance that the thief is still failing to look at all intimidated. He clears his throat and tries to sound gruff. "Okay then. You may go." Kongpob sets down the gun down as a sign of good faith but as he does a shot rings out.

They both yell, Kongpob diving behind the nearby marble column and crouching into a ball. After a long moment of ear ringing terror, he calms down enough to realize that he has not in fact been shot. Heart still hammering, Kongpob moves around the column until the thief comes into view again. He's clutching his arm, looking stunned, and when he takes his hand away it's trembling and red with blood.

"Oh my god. Oh my god ." Kongpob sinks back to the floor, closing his eyes. This isn't happening. This was his quiet night at home without Jax, he's supposed to be tucked into bed with a good book. Instead he'd just shot someone.

"Hey." Kongpob is brought to attention by the sound of fingers snapping in front of his face and opens his eyes to see the thief sitting on the floor in front of him, looking annoyed. "If you don't mind keeping it together, I'm the one who got shot here."

A relocation to the bathroom and the removal of several layers reveals that the bullet had only grazed him, to Kongpob's great relief. This does not stop the thief from yelping as Kongpob examines the wound and pours on copious amounts of disinfectant.

"Are you sure you know what you're doing?"

"Of course I do, don't be such a baby," Kongpob says, dabbing the wound perhaps more vigorously than necessary as the thief winces. He probably should have been more surprised that a decorative gun on display in an unlocked cabinet had been loaded, but Kongpob is all too aware of the lengths Jax is willing to go for authenticity. "You'd think you'd be used to this kind of thing in your line of work."

"I'm a society burglar, I don't expect people to go around shooting at me."

Kongpob begins bandaging the thief's arm, unable to stop himself from noticing how nice an arm it is. How nice his everything is really. The thief seems to notice him noticing and Kongpob quickly averts his gaze. This situation is awkward enough as it is.

He finishes hurriedly and steps back to examine his handiwork. It's not pretty, but it gets the job done. He's just relieved the thief hadn't demanded to be brought to a hospital.

The thief seems to take forever to put his clothes back on while Kongpob tries to figure out a safe place to direct his gaze.

"Well," Kongpob begins once he's finally finished. "It's been- it's been quite an experience. And now I'd appreciate it if you would please leave my house."

"Leave?" The thief widens his eyes earnestly. "I couldn't possibly drive myself home in this state. I feel weak from shock and blood loss." Kongpob gets that feeling he's being laughed at again.

"Well, I'll call you a taxi," he says hurriedly.

"I don't have any money on me."

"I'll pay for it."

"But what about my car? Someone might notice it if it's left outside your house. I am a wanted man after all. The police would have questions if they saw it. I'm really only thinking of you." The thief gives him a smile just on the winning side of smugness.

Kongpob hesitates. It would be hard to explain. Besides, if the thief left his car here then he'd have to come back and the last thing Kongpob wants is a repeat of tonight's events. There's only one thing for it. "I'll drive you home."

He takes advantage of the thief's surprise to grab him by the arm and drag him towards the exit.

He doesn't want to leave the thief alone for as long as it would take him to go upstairs and get dressed, so he just grabs the first jacket and pair of shoes he sees out of the hall closet to put on over his pajamas. This turns out to be a pair of bright yellow rain boots and one of Jax's overcoats, which is much too big for him. He senses the coming laughter and turns to glare at the thief, who raises his eyebrows innocently.

They leave the house, Kongpob making sure the door is locked behind them, and the thief leads him to a yellow jaguar parked outside the gate. No wonder he'd been worried someone might notice it.

"Pretty, isn't it?" the thief says, smiling fondly.

"Robbery must pay well," Kongpob says, impressed despite himself.

"Oh, well it's stolen," he says conspiratorially.

Kongpob tears his eyes away from the car to glare at him. "I can't drive a stolen car!"

"Oh, don't worry, it's not hard. Have you ever driven a regular car? It's a lot like that."

"That's not funny." Kongpob hesitates a moment longer before getting in the car. He just has to hope they won't be pulled over.

"Alright, where to?" he asks once they're both settled in.

"The Ritz," the thief says promptly.

"The-" Kongpob lets out a short, crazed laugh. "Okay, sure, the Ritz." He's driving a stolen car, a very nice stolen car, as a favor to the man he'd just caught robbing his house - the fancy hotel is nothing.

It's late and the streets are mostly empty, giving him leave to drive fast. He figures that the sooner he's done with this the better. Okay, so maybe he's not as focused as he should be at this speed, who can blame him after the night he's had, but he totally saw that car coming alright, there was no need for the thief to try and grab the wheel. Everything is completely under control.

Once the danger has passed, Kongpob glances at him suspiciously. "Your arm seems to be getting better."

"Oh no, it still hurts." The thief rubs his arm and winces dramatically.

Kongpob turns on him, furious. "It was the other arm!"

"The infection is spreading," the thief says, not missing a beat. "Eyes on the road please."

Kongpob huffily turns back around just in time to avoid a collision with a fire hydrant. Whatever. They're fine .

"Honestly, I've lost count of the number of traffic laws you've violated," his passenger says conversationally.

"Seriously?" Kongpob turns to look at him again only to be pointed back to the road. "Are you, the man who broke into my house, really lecturing me about breaking the law?"

"Are you, the man who shot me, really blaming me for being concerned for my safety?"

The thief's smile is insufferably smug so Kongpob pushes the gas pedal down even further as he returns his focus to the road.

As soon as they pull up to the hotel, Kongpob scrambles out of the car, slamming the door behind him. A valet appears and takes the keys to go park it, wishing Mr. Rojnapat a good evening as he does.

"Oh no, now you know my name," the thief says, failing to sound even slightly concerned. He gives a dramatic sigh. "Ah well, can't be helped. Arthit Rojnapat, room 305, if you ever want me." His smile manages to persist under Kongpob's blank stare. "After all, I'm pretty sure I owe you a favor now."

"No need to repay me, honestly, I'd prefer to just forget this whole thing." Kongpob turns to go only to find the street empty, the valet having already taken the car. "Wait, now how do I get home?"

"You could just spend the night here. My room's-"

"Taxi!" Kongpob holds up his hand to flag down the one approaching the hotel. He has the sense the thief is trying to say something, but at this point, standing outside the Ritz in his pajamas and rain boots, he's beyond caring. The evidence that this is all just a dream is beginning to outweigh reality.

He opens the door to the cab but is stopped from getting in by a hand on his arm. "Just a moment, there's one more thing."

"Yes?" Kongpob says warily.

The thief smiles. "Well see, like an idiot I forgot to wear gloves." He holds up his bare hands for Kongpob's inspection. "If you could just wipe down the frame of that painting for me before you go to bed it'd save me a lot of worry."

Kongpob gapes at him, but the thief's smirk only gets more pronounced. "Okay, sure. Would you like anything else? A bedtime story? A goodnight kiss?"

"Well, if you're offering."

Kongpob freezes, his sarcasm ignored as the thief leans down and kisses him. Now he knows he's dreaming.

He's too dazed to react before it's over. Hands gently push him into the cab, a voice gives the driver his address, and a smug face at the window says goodnight. Kongpob feels as though his mind is still back in the foyer, struggling desperately to catch up.

No sooner than he's arrived back home than he's accosted by Jax. "There you are, Squirt! Where've you been?" He doesn't bother waiting for an answer, continuing on as Kongpob takes off his borrowed coat and shoes. "You missed a great show tonight, there must have been thousands of people, not to mention the reporters and photographers, all for our Venus. Oh you should have seen it! You-"

"I caught someone trying to rob the house tonight."

It takes Jax a moment to register the words and stop talking. "You what?" Kongpob must be an awful mess because as soon as jax actually stops to look at him he rushes him over to an armchair and sits him down. "Are you alright? Tell me everything."

"Well, he was tall, very handsome-"

Jax, looking increasingly concerned, pats him on the arm. "Okay little brother, how about you start at the beginning. What happened?"

"I caught him in the act of stealing one of the paintings, but I held him off with one of the pistols from the cabinet. Which should not be loaded, by the way."

Jax surveys the walls until he's satisfied that nothing's missing. "Then what happened? Did you call the police?"

"No, I drove him back to the Ritz." Jax is stunned to silence, a true rarity. "I was about to call the police but then I saw he was stealing the Van Gogh, your Van Gogh. I figured we didn't need the publicity." Remembering something, he takes Jax's pocket square out of his suit jacket.

"Good thinking, a police investigation might have been - what are you doing?"

Kongpob goes to the Van Gogh and begins to wipe down the frame, humming a little as he does so. When he's finished he finds Jax standing next to him, looking very worried.

Kongpob returns the pocket square to its rightful place, gives it a little pat, then says goodnight with a smile.

He manages to avoid Jax the next few days, wandering the city, being a tourist, and resolving to forget all about handsome art thieves who may or may not have kissed him, but eventually he gets cornered and sent off to the museum to "marvel at the glory of our Venus."

It's certainly impressive; placed on a raised platform at the center of the museum's main hall. The crowd is thick and Kongpob sticks to its edges, having no need to see the statue up close. There are pamphlets being offered detailing the Venus's illustrious, completely invented, history, and he can't help being nervous. So many people and it would only take one to notice something's wrong.

He's only been there a minute but it's already too much so he turns to leave, walking right into someone entering.

"Well hello." Kongpob looks up in horror into the smiling face of the thief.

"You!" He takes a hurried step back.

"Aw, you remember me."

"Of course I - oh my god are you here to-" he looked around nervously before leaning in to whisper "- steal something ?"

The thief laughs. "Yes, I've come to this high security museum at the busiest time of day to commit a crime. Brilliant, isn't it?"

Kongpob narrows his eyes. Is the thief joking, or does he just want Kongpob to think he's joking? Maybe he's actually serious and now it's on Kongpob to stop yet another robbery. He'd be like a superhero, with his very own super villain nemesis. Which reminds him, he has to call Em and fill him in on all this.

"I'm onto you," he tells the thief. What had his name been? Something with an 'A'?

His new nemesis looks more amused than concerned, but whatever his response would have been is interrupted by the appearance of Mr. Grammont.

"Mr. Suthiluck! So glad to see you. Come to see your Venus?"

"Oh, hello, yes." Kongpob hesitates before making the necessary introductions. "This is, uh..."

"Arthit Rojnapat," the thief, Arthit, says, holding out his hand.

Relieved, Kongpob continues, "Mr. Rojnapat, this is Mr. Grammont, the museum director."

"Delighted." Arthit says, smiling broadly as they shake hands. "It's a wonderful exhibition. So many beautiful things, and so valuable ."

Mr. Grammont thanks him enthusiastically then asks, "And how do you two know each other?"

Arthit answers before Kongpob can stop him. "Oh we're old friends. We used to shoot together."

Kongpob is caught between being horrified and wanting to laugh but tries to maintain an expression of polite interest as the museum director addresses him.

"Now I'm sure you'd like to hear about all the security precautions we have in place to keep the Venus safe, Mr. Suthiluck. I could give you and your friend a private tour if you'd like." Kongpob hurriedly tries tell him that's really not necessary, but can't before Mr. Grammont is asking, "Are you interested in art Mr. Rojnapat?"

"Oh yes. And security." Rojnapat winks at Kongpob before following the museum director as he commences his tour.

Kongpob watches helplessly as Mr. Grammont explains the motion detecting infrared beams around the Venus, which if crossed would automatically summon both the museum guards and the local police, all while Arthit gives encouraging nods of interest.

"Now I know what you're thinking; what if a burglar got to it and turned off the alarm?"

"Funny, I was just about to ask that," Arthit says. He seems to be enjoying himself immensely.

"Well, they can't. It operates like a bank vault, see, and only myself and two trusted guards know the combination. Let me show you-"

"I'm sorry, but we really have to go. We have lunch plans," Kongpob says hurriedly. He talks over Mr. Grammont's disappointed objections with a flurry of thank yous and goodbyes, grabbing Arthit's arm and dragging him out of the museum. It was rude, but what kind of hero would he be if he let this continue?

"So where are we getting lunch?" Arthit asks, following Kongpob without resistance.

"What?" Kongpob stops in the museum's courtyard and turns to face him. "We are not getting lunch. We are not doing anything, I just had to get you out of there!"

Arthit rolls his eyes. "Well I'm inviting you to lunch now. I actually really need to talk to you about something."

"I don't want to hear it," Kongpob says firmly, trying to ignore how the thief remained stubbornly tall and handsome by the light of day. Arthit was a criminal and there was enough suspicion surrounding his family's art collection as it was. "Good day Mr. Rojnapat."

He begins to walk away as fast as decency allowed, but not fast enough to avoid hearing Arthit call after him, "If you change your mind, remember it's the Ritz, room 305."

Determined to actually enjoy his summer without getting caught up in something illegal, Kongpob fills his days reading in parks, brushing up on his French, and shopping (his former co-star Prae had given him an extensive list of things she expected him to buy her while he was there). It doesn't take long for the loneliness to set in however. One of the reasons he'd left Bangkok after the break-up was to spend some time focusing on himself, but what's the point of being alone in Paris? Occasionally he toys with the possibilities presented by the Ritz, room 305, but always stops short of actually going.

That leaves Jax for company, and it's hard to talk to him without falling into all their old arguments. He spends a morning catching Jax up on his time on Broadway, which of course results in his brother saying he could have been an actor if he'd wanted to and wasn't Kongpob glad he'd given him all those tips growing up?

Kongpob's grateful when the butler interrupts by introducing a visitor from the museum, an ancient looking man with a briefcase full of papers saying he'd come about the insurance on the Cellini Venus.

"Insurance? I've never had it insured. It's beyond price," Jax says loftily.

"The museum has taken out a policy for you to cover it during its transportation and exhibition. By an unfortunate error, we did not get your signature on it before the Venus was moved." He offers Jax a document from his briefcase and points to the blank line. "A mere formality. Once you have signed, the piece will be covered until it is safely returned to your home. It will be insured for its estimated value of one million dollars against all risks, including fire, flood, structural collapse, and, of course, theft." Room 305 pops into kongpob's head again as the man gives jax a pen.

Jax signs the document with a flourish and returns it with a blinding smile, like he's handing out his autograph.

"Excellent." The man returns the papers to his briefcase, closing it with a snap. "Now, would you like to be present during the technical examination?"

"I'm sorry, the what?"

"Yes, for it to be insured its authenticity must be verified. Again, just a formality. It's all in the contract. I believe the expert is being flown in on Friday, would you care to come?"

Kongpob's attention had been wandering through the exchange so it takes a moment for the significance to sink in. He tries to keep the panic from his face and sees Jax struggling to do the same.

"Yes, I suppose I will," he says weakly.

The man from the museum thanks them for their time, apologizing for not obtaining the signature sooner, and is shown out. Kongpob looks at his brother in horror.

"What am I going to do?" Jax dramatically falls back into an armchair. "If they find out the Venus is fake they'll go through my entire collection." He puts his head in his hands. "I'm ruined."

Kongpob, valiantly overcoming the urge to say I told you so, pulls a chair up next to his brother's and joins him. "Come on, there must be something we can do."

Jax sits up quickly. "No. No we . You need to get out of here, go back to Bangkok, no, farther than that, you should go to Australia. There's no need for you to get caught up in this mess." He looks at Kongpob earnestly. "You warned me this would happen. I should have listened."

Kongpob is shocked. He's not sure he's ever heard his brother admit he was wrong before. "I'm not going to abandon you, Jax."

Jax shakes his head. "You've got a life. A career. You made it, Kong. But me? This is all I've ever been good at. I'm not gonna drag you down with me."

For the first time in his life, Kongpob feels like he can see his brother clearly. Jax has always operated with such supreme self-confidence that it hadn't occurred to Kongpob that this might not be the life he wanted. He knows Jax went to Hollywood for a few years before joining their grandfather in Paris to become a "real artist," but the idea that he might have truly wanted to be an actor, that Kongpob had succeeded where his brother had failed, had never crossed his mind.

"What am I going to do?" Jax says, head in his hands.

Kongpob reaches over to pat him on the shoulder, an idea forming in his head. It's crazy, but too crazy, or just crazy enough? All he knows is that he can't let Jax get taken away, not when there's something he can do to help.

"You're going to get your affairs in order: clean out your secret room, cancel all your meetings with potential buyers. Just leave the rest to me."

Kongpob waits in the dining room of the Ritz, glancing around nervously. He'd called up to Arthit's room fifteen minutes earlier, asking him to meet him here. Better to do this in a public place. Less suspicious.

He sees Arthit as soon as he enters the room and watches as he stops to look around, his eyes sweeping right past Kongpob, who is pleased by the efficacy of his disguise. He waits for Arthit to walk closer before hissing his name to catch his attention.

He lowers his sunglasses to uncover the small area of his face visible between his upturned coat collar and wide brimmed hat and Arthit's eyebrows rise as his confused expression shifts to one of amused surprise.

"Why are you dressed like that?" he asks, sliding into the curved booth around Kongpob's table.

"I don't want anyone to recognize me." Obviously.

"Well, if you want privacy we could just head up to my room," Arthit says, moving in closer.

"I'm here on business." Kongpob slides away, reestablishing the distance between them to make his point. He lowers his voice and continues, "I have a job."

Arthit tilts his head, confused, so Kongpob elaborates. "You know, a heist. A robbery."

"Oh." Kongpob catches a hint of a smile before Arthit schools his expression into something more serious. "So what's the score?"

"The Cellini Venus."

Arthit's surprise is almost comical. " Your Cellini Venus?" Kongpob nods in confirmation. "But why?"

"What do you mean why? It's worth a million dollars."

"Yes... but it already belongs to you."

Damn. He'd hoped Arthit would be on board without question once he understood how much money was involved, but apparently that was not to be the case. "Well I'm not going to steal anything that doesn't belong to me," he says, as though this should be obvious.

Arthit nods. "Oh no, of course not. That would be ridiculous."

Kongpob rolls his eyes at the sarcasm. "Look, are you going to help or not?"

Arthit leans back and crosses his arms. "It's a temporary exhibition right? Why not just wait until it's back in your house? I know I can break into there."

"Are you saying you can't do it?" A house thief was obviously a different class than a museum thief, he realizes with disappointment.

"I'm saying, it's a high security museum and a lot of risk for something you could just walk away with if you only waited."

"Well I can't wait, it's got to be done by Friday!"

Arthit takes note of the panic in his voice and Kongpob tries to regain his calm demeanor.

"Why?"

Kongpob tries to think of an excuse that would justify the risk but can't. He briefly considers telling the truth, after all an art thief could hardly judge an art forger, but revealing that the statue is worthless would remove any incentive for Arthit to help him. "I can't tell you," he says, his voice pleading.

"Well, then I can't help you."

Kongpob's heart sinks. It had been a stupid idea, but it was the only one he could think of. Not quite ready to give up, he asks, "Could you perhaps refer me to another thief then?"

'No!" Arthit lets out a frustrated sigh running a hand through his hair. "You're really doing this?"

"I have to."

Arthit looks at him intently, Kongpob determinedly meeting his gaze. "Fine."

"You'll do it?" Kongpob leans towards him, grinning broadly.

There's a hint of a smile beneath Arthit's exasperation as he says, "I'll try, but I'm not promising anything. Friday doesn't give us much time."

Kongpob nods, trying to rein in his excitement. "Let's get started then. What should I do?"

Arthit doesn't answer immediately, and when he does it's disappointing. "I need some time to think first. How about I pick you up tomorrow, around eleven?"

"How about I pick you up instead," Kongpob says, worried about the stolen car.

Arthit grins like he knows what he's thinking. "Alright, meet me here tomorrow morning. And wear something normal."

Kongpob looks down at his outfit, frowning. Personally, he thought disguises were the best part, but he should probably listen to the opinion of the expert. "Fine. Tomorrow then." He adjusts his sunglasses and coat collar as he leaves, feeling appropriately sneaky and rather proud of himself.

He doesn't see Jax before he leaves the next morning so doesn't have to decide what to tell him. It's better to keep him in the dark for now, he reasons. They don't even have a real plan yet.

Arthit is waiting for him when he arrives, quickly sliding into the passenger seat and giving an approving nod upon looking him over.

"So, where to?" Kongpob asks as he pulls away from the hotel.

Arthit flings an arm over the back of Kongpob's seat. "I was thinking we'd go get lunch, then I could show you around Paris."

Kongpobs eyes narrow. "I've been here before you know. We'd come to visit my grandfather here all the time when I was little."

"Well then I guess you should show me around."

Kongpob turns to glare at him, ignoring Arthit's pointed glance at the road. "Would you please be serious. We're on a mission here."

Arthit sighs and retracts his arm. "Fine. Let's go to the museum."

"Ah, so we can case the joint, right?" Kongpob says, pleased. He'd spent all morning and much of the previous night reading heist novels in preparation and likes to think he's up on the lingo.

Arthit smiles. "Yeah, sure."

"So do you have a plan yet? What are we going to do once we get there?"

"Oh you know, look around, figure out what we're dealing with."

Kongpob frowns at the vagueness, but is distracted from pressing further by Arthit saying, "So I see you learned how to drive since I last saw you."

"Excuse me?" Kongpob huffs. "I am an excellent driver. I was just under a lot of stress that night."

"Stress huh? I guess you shouldn't be our getaway driver then."

Kongpob knows he's being teased, but it was an important point; he hadn't considered the possibility of a car chase. "Well I got us there all right, didn't I? Not that I want to be in a police chase or anything, but I'm sure I could do it if I had to."

"Yeah, we definitely want to avoid a police chase. Police in general, really. Like them." Arthit points at the smartly uniformed men outside the buildings they're passing as they approach the museum.

"Those aren't police, they're just guards. That's the Ministry of the Interior they're outside."

"And those?" Arthit asks, pointing up ahead.

"They're guarding government buildings; that's where the President lives. They have nothing to do with us." Arthit should know this, shouldn't he?

"They will when we're trying to get away, assuming we manage to get past all the ones who actually are guarding the museum."

Kongpob is both relieved Arthit isn't actually incompetent and newly bothered by all of the stern faced figures they're passing. "What's your point?"

"My point is that this is going to be dangerous. Are you sure it's worth it?"

Not really. He knows it's stupid, covering up Jax's crime by committing a worse one, but he can't just sit by and do nothing. If they aren't able to come up with a decent plan, he'll back out, he decides. But first they have to get a plan. He looks at Arthit and nods. "I'm sure."

Kongpob and Arthit stand in the entrance of the museum's main hall, surveying the room together. Kongpob isn't quite sure what they're looking for - Arthit hasn't given any instruction - so he tries to catalogue everything.

It's a round room with the Venus at its center on a pedestal surrounded by a ring of glowing blue lights: the motion detectors Mr. Grammont showed them. The walls are lined with oil paintings and pierced by several hallways leading off to other exhibits. There's a grand staircase going up to the second floor, beside which there's a smaller hallway, blocked off with a velvet rope and a staff only sign.

That looks promising, and apparently Arthit agrees because he begins to wander in that direction. Kongpob follows, trying to look nonchalant.

When they reach the staircase, Kongpob looks expectantly at Arthit, who glances around, then nods his head towards a guard who's surveying the room from his nearby position against the wall.

"Distract him for me," he says, and Kongpob nods eagerly. Perfect, things were finally getting started.

He goes up to the guard, taking care to position himself so that he can see what Arthit's doing and the guard can't, and begins playing the clueless Thai tourist, asking in painfully bad French where the bathroom is. Over the guard's shoulder he watches Arthit casually step over the rope and disappear down the hall, then continues to pretend to misunderstand the instructions he's being given.

It's honestly quite fun, willfully ignoring the guard's attempts to speak to him in English and insistently talking over him in his exaggeratedly terrible French. He gets rather caught up in it, not noticing that Arthit's reemerged until he catches him watching with a raised eyebrow.

Kongpob gives a cheerful "Merci" to the poor guard and goes over to join him.

"You're good at that," Arthit says as they fall into step together, walking the perimeter of the room.

"Well I am an actor," Kongpob says, trying not to sound too smug.

"Really? Anything I'd have heard of?"

"Broadway, West Side Story ?"

Arthit seems to recognize the name at least. "Impressive. You'll have to sing for me sometime."

Kongpob can't help answering Arthit's smile but catches himself before flirting back. This is a business relationship and they're supposed to be working . He drags the conversation back on task, asking, "Well? What was back there?"

Arthit shrugs. "A storage closet under the stairs, a fire hose and bucket, maybe more but I didn't want to risk spending too much time exploring."

Well that was disappointing. "So what now?"

Arthit puts his hands in his pockets and scans the hall. He points to a closed door across the room from the staircase. "That's probably the guard's room. We should take a look."

"What? How?"

"If we walk in like we belong there, they'll think we do. It's human nature." He fishes around in the pocket of his jacket, pulling out a small notebook and a pen and handing them to Kongpob. "Just follow my lead."

Arthit heads to the door, which is unlocked and opens into a short hallway. Kongpob follows Arthit down it and into a room full of guards, most of whom are playing cards around a small table.

"Who's in charge here?" Arthit demands angrily in perfect French. One of the guards gives a little raise of his hand, but he's cut off before he can finish asking who Arthit is.

"Dubois, Assistant Deputy Chairman, Commissioner of Tourism." Arthit flashes something vaguely ID shaped before returning it to his pocket. "Isn't this place cleaned regularly? The woodwork out there is covered in dust."

"We have a complete staff of cleaning women," the one in charge splutters. Kongpob tries to look official, making marks in the notebook Arthit had given him.

"What, once a month?" Arthit says disdainfully, walking the room.

"No, every night, from midnight until four."

Arthit reaches the door at the other end of the room, opening it imperiously then turning back to the guards, who were shifting from surprised to confused, verging on suspicious. Arthit seems to realize this too because he says, "Make sure they do their jobs properly or I'll have to write a report," and strides back out. Kongpob follows, greatly impressed.

He has trouble keeping up with Arthit as they walk back out into the main hall, and then towards the exit.

"We're leaving already?"

Arthit nods. "Don't want to risk them seeing us hanging around. Besides, I don't think we'll get much more."

"Do we have enough?" Kongpob can't see how it's possible, but he supposes that was what he'd hired Arthit for.

"Let's get out of the museum before we discuss robbing it."

They end up at a nearby park, walking a path between shady trees and brilliantly green grass lawns.

"So what was through that door?" Kongpob asks.

"An exit."

"There's another way in? We could use that to get to the Venus!" This seems big, but Arthit doesn't look excited.

"Sure, but then we'd have to walk right through the guard's room."

Kongpob frowns, waiting for an alternative that doesn't come. "But some of that was useful, right?" he presses. "About the cleaning women? Maybe I could disguise myself as one and get in that way."

Arthit looks like he's on the verge of laughter. "You really think you could pull that off?"

"Sure. If I had to." Arthit just continues to look amused, which Kongpob does not appreciate. "Well at least I'm trying to think of ideas. You're the expert, what do you think?"

Arthit sighs. "It's my expert opinion that you should probably give this up."

Kongpob stops walking to stare at him. "What? No, you haven't even thought about it yet."

Arthit stops too, turning to face him. "Yes, I have, and I can tell you that even if we could get in, there's no way to get past the alarm, no way to tamper with it, and no way for us to turn it off."

"How do you ever manage to steal anything with an attitude like that?"

Arthit almost smiles, then shakes his head and continues walking. "What we need is for some member of the museum staff to turn the alarm off for us."

Relieved, Kongpob joins him. "So bribery?"

"No, we don't know which guard has the codes and there's not enough time to find out."

"Well what then?"

"I don't-" Arthit stops walking, his eyes following something whizzing past through the air. They watch as a man surrounded by a group of children catches it to the cheers of his audience. It's a cheap wooden boomerang. He had a stall of the things and must have been selling them.

"What are you doing?" Kongpob asks as Arthit heads towards the vendor, ignoring Kongpob as he pushes his way through the gathered children. After a minute he returns, holding a newly purchased boomerang.

"Come on, let's find someplace I can try this out." Arthit looks excited for the first time all day, which strikes Kongpob as strange. He didn't think he was the type to be interested in children's toys.

"This better have something to do with the plan," he says, following Arthit onto the grass. "We don't have time for you to waste reliving your childhood."

"I've had an idea," Arthit assures him, dodging a group of children playing catch as he searches for an open space.

Kongpob waits but Arthit doesn't elaborate. "Well? Aren't you going to share it?"

"Not yet, I'm still thinking it through."

At least it's something. Kongpob settles down in the shade, leaning against the trunk of a tree to watch Arthit throw the boomerang. He's not very good at it, at least not at first, but after a few tries he seemed to get the angle right, sending it out in an arc that comes spinning back towards him. He almost falls over trying to catch it and Kongpob laughs, earning him a glare.

Arthit keeps trying for what feels like hours, throwing the boomerang at different heights and distances and catching it with increasing ease. Kongpob's not sure what the point is but there are worse ways to spend an afternoon than sitting in the park and watching Arthit Rojnapat. Besides, he doesn't want to risk disturbing his thought process.

He must doze off a bit because suddenly Arthit is kneeling in front him, hand on kongpob's knee and smiling. "I have a plan. Looks like you're gonna need that cleaning woman disguise after all."

They spent the rest of the day working out the details. Kongpob even allows Arthit to take him out to dinner. After all, they do need to eat.

It's decided they'll try to carry out the plan the following night, so that they'll have the chance to tweak it and try again before the Friday deadline if they have to. They'll meet at the museum, a half hour before closing time.

Kongpob spends the next morning putting together his disguise and going over everything in his head. He's been avoiding Jax the past few days, not a difficult task since his brother has been holed up in his secret studio, but as the time to leave approaches Kongpob seeks him out. Arthit's plan is far from foolproof and he wants to say goodbye, just in case.

He finds his brother in the same place he'd been when he first arrived; sitting on his stool, surrounded by his paints and canvases and special dirt.

"I thought you were getting rid of all this stuff," Kongpob says, gesturing around the room.

Jax shrugs. "I couldn't." He stands, brushing nonexistent dust off his suit and avoiding Kongpob's eye. "It hardly matters; they'd have enough proof without seeing my work space."

"Then what have you been doing these past few days?" It's his own fault for not including his brother in his plans, but surely Jax must have done something . "Aren't you worried?"

"Of course," he says, sounding oddly defensive. Under Kongpob's stare he continues, "I've just been thinking. Once everyone knows it was me, well, everyone will know it was me . I painted those long lost masterpieces everyone fought over and admired. You know what happened with Van Meegeren right? He painted one last Vermeer in prison; the guards marveled at the brilliance of his brushwork."

"I don't think you should expect too much admiration," Kongpob snaps.

"Why are you mad? I'm just trying to look on the bright side here." Jax tries flashing a smile but it fades under Kongpob's glare.

"I'm mad because you don't seem to care that you could go to jail! You'll be gone Jax." He'd lost count of all the times his brother had let him down over the years, but this feels worse, like he's just giving up.

Jax shakes his head. "You have your whole life in Bangkok. You have Broadway . You don't need me." He attempts another smile. "You'll be better off without me really."

Kongpob feels a stab of guilt at that. He's still so used to thinking of Jax as the one who has everything, but somehow, somewhere, Kongpob's surpassed him. At the very least he has recognition - all Jax has is a string of masterpieces without his name on them. Their growing apart is on his shoulders as much as his brother's. But there's still time to fix things. He's going to make time.

"We're brothers, Jax," he says firmly. "We have to look out for each other. And I'm going to get you out of this."

He can tell from the look on his face that Jax doesn't believe him but is touched anyway. "Come here Squirt," he says, opening his arms and pulling Kongpob into a hug. Kongpob can't remember the last time they'd hugged. He holds onto the moment, saving it for the long night he had ahead.

The thought makes him pull away, worried he'll be late if he stays too much longer. "I've got to get going. I've got a date tonight." He'd decided that the less Jax knews the smoother things would go. "I'll probably be out pretty late, so don't wait up."

"Oh? Good for you," Jax says, and he does look pleased. "Have fun."

Kongpob nods and smiles. "And don't give up just yet, okay? Tomorrow's a whole new day." At least it would be if he and Arthit had anything to say about it.

When Kongpob arrives at the museum Arthit is already there, pacing back and forth in the courtyard and looking very respectable in a dark blue suit.

"I'm not late am I?" Kongpob asks, made slightly breathless by his rush over from where he'd parked his car a discreet distance away. "I'm sorry, I got caught up talking to my brother."

Arthit waves his hand in dismissal. "It's fine, the museum doesn't close for another twenty minutes." He eyes the large paper bag in Kongpob's arms. "You have everything?"

"Yes. I triple checked." That was the other reason he was late.

Kongpob had been half expecting Arthit to try to talk him out of it again, give him one last out, but instead he looks just as wired as Kongpob feels, bouncing slightly on his heels as he nods. "Excellent. Let's go then."

Most of the museum goers are departing as closing time approaches but there's still a decent crowd of tourists wanting a quick look at the Venus entering alongside Kongpob and Arthit.

Kongpob is stopped and politely told by an attendant that he'll have to check his bag, which he does, smiling at the girl behind the desk and noting which of the cubbies lining the wall his bag goes into.

"Don't forget to collect it when you leave," she calls after him as he rejoins Arthit, jittery with nerves as they wander around, awaiting closing time.

They don't have to wait long before the announcement is given and the crowd slowly begins moving towards the exit. Guards walk the perimeter, looking for stragglers and items for the lost and found.

Arthit puts several francs worth of coins between the folds of a museum map as they walk, casually placing it on a mantelpiece as they near the grand staircase and the roped off passage beside it.

Kongpob stops right in front of the staff only sign and bends to tie his shoe, lingering until a passing guard sees Arthit's map and picks it up to throw it away, sending coins bouncing and rolling across the floor. Everyone in the vicinity, guard included, stop and scramble to pick them up, allowing Kongpob and Arthit to slip unnoticed over the rope and around the corner, behind the stairs.

"That was clever," Kongpob whispers as they reach the storage closet, which is, as described, next to a coiled up fire hose and bucket on a hook.

Arthit shrugs as he kneels down to pick the lock of the closet door. "It's human nature, that's all."

Kongpob keeps watch, prepared to play the confused Thai tourist again if necessary, but no one one comes by. As Arthit had predicted, the guards wait for the crowd to finish leaving before doing a sweep of the back passages and Arthit has the door open well before their time is up.

Kongpob goes in first as Arthit puts a strip of tape along the door frame so it won't lock behind them. Most of the space is taken up by a wooden ladder, with shelves full of boxes along the wall. Kongpob peers in one and sees light bulbs but can't explore any further before Arthit comes in and shuts the door behind him, blocking out most of the light from the hall.

He almost elbows Kongpob in the eye as he turns around while putting his roll of tape back in an inside pocket. Kongpob hadn't realized quite how small the closet would be. He can feel Arthit's breath on his cheek, and is suddenly very concerned with how fast his heart is beating.

"Try to get comfortable," Arthit whispers. "This is home for the next seven hours."

Kongpob nods and climbs a couple of rungs on the ladder, freeing up a few more inches between them with the added bonus of making him the taller of the two.

They wait in silence as the sound of the museum goers quiets and the guards begin their rounds. Footsteps pass right outside their door and Kongpob hardly breathes until they've faded but as Arthit had predicted, their closet is left unexamined.

Eventually, things settle down for good, the light coming from under the door dimming as the museum shuts down.

"We'll have to wait awhile, figure out the timing of the guards rounds, then we can get started," Arthit says softly, sitting down in the small amount of available floor space. Sitting begins to look increasingly attractive to Kongpob, who is already regretting his perch on the ladder.

He descends and almost sits on Arthit in the dark. The resulting soft laugh almost makes him retreat but they're going to be stuck there for hours , so he gets over his embarrassment and settles himself into the remaining floor space, legs going under the ladder. It's awkward, sitting there together in the dark, and he longs to fill up the silence with conversation but doesn't dare risk the noise. Instead he closes his eyes and settles back as best he could, going over the plan in his mind.

There's a sharp jab as someone pokes his arm and Kongpob starts awake from where he'd dozed off on Arthit's shoulder. "Sorry," he mumbles, embarrassed by his lack of professionalism. He only hopes he hadn't drooled.

He feels Arthit stand up and is blinded by a light flickering on. Kongpob's eyes adjust as he struggles to his feet, eyeing the lone light bulb and chain hanging from the ceiling.

"From what I can tell, the guards do their rounds every hour," Arthit says, not bothering to be as quiet as before. "One passed fifteen minutes ago. You ready?"

Kongpob nods and Arthit pushes open the closet door. They creep out cautiously then stop to stretch in the comparatively luxurious space afforded by the hallway before moving on to the central display room. The blue lights of the Venus's security system are the brightest thing there, though there's still light coming from under the door leading to the guard's room. The space seems so much bigger without the crowds, the edges fading into the gloom.

Slowly and quietly, they move towards the museum entrance. Kongpob's bag is still in its cubby behind the check in desk alongside a few other forgotten items. He grabs it and pulls out Arthit's boomerang, handing it over before tucking the bag under his arm.

They creep back to the passage leading to their closet and Arthit gestures him down it before focusing his attention on the statue at the center of the room. Kongpob crosses over the velvet rope then turns back around, unable to resist the temptation to watch.

Arthit throws the boomerang like he had endless times in the park the day before and Kongpob holds his breath as it flies through the air, praying all that practice has paid off. It goes too wide around the statue and as it came back, Arthit had to jump to catch it.

He lands back on the floor with a thump, terrifyingly loud in the silence. Arthit freezes as they listen for any sign that someone has heard. After a long moment, he raises the boomerang again, aiming carefully before letting it fly. This time it's perfect, passing a foot over the Venus's head, right through the motion detectors, setting off the alarm.

Kongpob hadn't been prepared for how ear-splittingly loud it would be and stands frozen in panic for a moment, the result of which is that when Arthit catches the boomerang and leaps over the velvet rope, he crashes right into him. The lights of the main hall flicker on and Kongpob knows the guards must be close behind as he and Arthit pick themselves up and scramble over each other on their way back to the closet. Once inside, Arthit yanks the door shut behind them, the sound of its slamming lost in the blaring of the alarm.

The following minutes feel endless. Even after the alarm is finally turned off, it's replaced by the pounding of footsteps and the sirens of approaching police cars. Arthit is close enough that Kongpob can feel his heart pounding almost as well as he can feel his own. There's something comforting about that.

After an eternity, the sounds all die down, the light coming from the hall dimming again as the police leave and the guards retreat back to their room. Arthit had been right; no one bothered to check a presumably locked storage closet, especially when nothing had actually been taken.

The closet light bulb flickers on again so Arthit can look through their reclaimed bag of supplies. Kongpob steps up a couple rungs on the ladder, conscious of the lack of space again. His heart is still pounding.

"Do you really think it'll work?" he whispers.

Arthit puts the bag down and looks up at him. "It should. It's only human nature after all."

Kongpob nods but can't quite believe it. "It just felt really close back there, like they were right behind us." He pauses, taking a deep breath before continuing. "Look, I had no right to get you involved in all this and I just want you to know I'm willing to give it up. If you think that's best."

Arthit raises his eyebrows. "Ah, but then what would happen when the inspector comes to test your statue on Friday?"

Kongpob's eyes widen. How does he know about that? He barely manages to keep his voice level as he asks, "What do you mean?"

"I mean, it's fake." Arthit looks at him with that smug smirk he's so good at, daring him to deny it. That's Kongpob's first instinct, but Arthit looks so sure there hardly seems to be a point. Besides, he's owed the truth - risking jail for the million dollar Cellini Venus is an entirely different prospect than risking it for a fake.

So instead of denial he meets Arthit's gaze and asks, "How did you know?"

Arthit shrugs. "I figured it must be when you asked me to steal it," he says, casual, like it's obvious, like he hadn't just destroyed the entire foundation of what Kongpob had thought he was doing here. He looks almost expectant as Kongpob stares at him, completely at a loss.

"I don't understand," he says, eyes searching Arthit's face for an answer. "If you knew it was worthless this whole time then why-"

He's cut off by Arthit closing the short distance between them and kissing him, resting a hand on one of the ladder rungs by Kongpob's hip.

Kongpob had resolved not to think of the last kiss, unsure if it had been a joke or a dream and deciding that either way it didn't mean anything. Best to forget it and focus on the job, he'd thought. But apparently Arthit didn't care about the job, he cared about Kongpob . God, he was slow.

Arthit pulls back before Kongpob's brain has quite finished processing but stays close, hand still on the ladder, questioning.

"Oh," Kongpob says, trying to play at confusion, but unable to stop a stupid grin from spreading across his face. "I'm sorry, could you explain that again?"

Arthit smiles as he obliges. This time Kongpob kisses back.

All in all, Kongpob is finding a life of crime to be much more enjoyable than he'd thought it would be. Aside from the brief period of alarm filled terror, his grand caper had thus far consisted of a nap and a make out. The closet didn't even seem so small anymore. It was really quite cozy. He must have adapted to his surroundings.

A few minutes after the sound of the latest patrol passes, Arthit picks up the boomerang and goes out for round two. Kongpob waits inside the closet this time as there's no point in both of them going out and potentially getting caught, but not being able to see what's happening somehow makes it even more nerve wracking.

He jumps as the alarm goes off again and opens the door, waiting. Thankfully he's not left worrying for long; Arthit bolts around the corner in seconds and Kongpob shuts the door after him as soon as he's inside, a much smoother process than the last time.

The alarm goes on and on, so loud he could practically feel it. Arthit leans in, shouting so Kongpob can hear him say, "I'm guessing we're not the only ones who are getting tired of this." He feels Arthit's smile against his ear and smiles in return, thinking of the Ministry of the Interior and the President's house, both within earshot.

The alarm is finally turned off again and amidst the hurried feet of the guards and policemen they hear the sound of voices raised in argument. It gets loud enough that Kongpob can make out someone yelling "It's not my fault, I didn't install it!"

After everything quiets down again and they're sure not to be heard, Kongpob turns to Arthit, excited. "That sounded promising! I say we go check."

Arthit considers for a moment then nods and picks up the boomerang again. They leave the closet and walk softly back to the main hall. It's darker than before and it's easy to see why; the lights around the Venus are gone. The security system is off.

Kongpob's eyes widen and he grabs Arthit's arm, shaking it excitedly. Arthit grins and detaches himself, holding up a cautionary finger before throwing the boomerang in a perfect arc above the Venus. Nothing happens.

Arthit catches the boomerang and, amazed, they return to the closet.

"It actually worked," Arthit says once the door was shut, sounding almost awed. "They actually turned it off."

"Of course it worked, you're a genius!" Kongpob says, practically bouncing.

Arthit smiles, his usual smugness returning. "I really am, aren't I?"

Kongpob answers by dragging him down for a kiss.

The biggest uncertainty of the plan, whether they could successfully annoy people into turning off the alarm for them, has been answered. However the riskiest part, actually getting the statue out of the building, is yet to come.

For that, they have to wait until midnight when the cleaning women come. As soon as the last patrol has passed, Arthit goes out to get the Venus while Kongpob empties out the rest of his bag and puts on the disguise he'd packed. It's not much, just a shapeless, sack-like dress he could put on over most of his clothes and a scarf to tie over his head.

He rolls up his shirt sleeves and pant legs, making sure they don't show, and picks up his bow tie from where Arthit had thrown it after tugging it off during those few enjoyable hours they'd had to kill. He's tying the scarf when Arthit returns with the Venus and fire bucket from the hall outside, looking him over with a critical eye.

"Well?" Kongpob asks, turning around for inspection.

Arthit smiles. "You'll pass. We're just going to have to hope no one looks at you too closely." He hands Kongpob the Venus, which he carefully wraps in the old rags he'd packed, saving one to pretend to dust with.

After stuffing his suit jacket into the bottom of the bucket, he gently places the disguised Venus on top, arranging it so at it glance it would look like a bundle of cleaning supplies.

"Okay, just keep your head down and get the Venus to the guard room without anyone noticing," Arthit instructs once midnight comes and they can hear people moving around. "I'll meet you there."

Kongpob nods and takes a deep breath before leaving their hiding place. This is it, just get through this one thing and they'll be home free. He edges along the wall until he can peak out around the staircase to see the main hall. A single guard is in place, overseeing the group of women with a bored expression on his face. Kongpob is gratified to see that neither his outfit nor his bucket will stand out in this crowd. As he watches, the guard turns to survey the other side of the hall, his eyes skating right over the empty plinth where the Venus should be.

While his back is turned, Kongpob slips under the velvet rope, pretending to be scrubbing as he does. No one pays him any mind as he proceeds to make a show of wiping down the floor, keeping his bucket close as he inches his way in the direction of the guard room.

Kongpob knows he should be keeping his head down, but his eyes keep being drawn to the center of the room where the Venus should be. The empty space seems so gaping to him it's a wonder the guard hasn't noticed it yet.

The minutes drag on, Kongpob tense with expectation until the guard finally lets out a cry and scrambles into the guard room.

The women stop what they're doing and exchange confused looks and questioning murmurs. Then suddenly, all of the guards pour out, take a look at the empty plinth, and set off running to search the museum. The cleaning women are directed to stay against the wall and out of the way, free from suspicion as they'd been watched from the moment they arrived.

Surreptitiously, Kongpob begins to move along the wall towards the guard room, unnoticed amidst all the shouting and rushing about. He makes it through the door and down the short hallway without incident, but when he gets to the room itself someone grabs him and pushes him up against the wall.

He's about to yell but is cut off by a kiss and he relaxes as he realizes it's only Arthit, grinning wildly. He'd gotten a guard's hat from somewhere and at first glance his suit could pass for one of their uniforms; he must have snuck in ahead of Kongpob during all of the confusion. As predicted, the guards room is empty - the only place in the whole museum guaranteed to be in a crisis.

"Was that really necessary?" Kongpob asks, but he can't stop smiling as Arthit grabs his hand and leads him across the room.

"Oh, definitely," he says, and they leave through the back exit, giddy with success.

Kongpob is awoken the next morning by Jax throwing open his door and shoving a newspaper in his face.

"Can you believe it? We're saved! Thank God for the criminal class!"

Kongpob scans the paper as Jax plops down on the bed next to him. The article takes up most of the front page but all boils down to a sensational theft having occurred at the Kléber-Lafayette Museum, no suspects. Kongpob smiles and turns to Jax who looked like a kid on Christmas morning.

"I guess the prison guards are going to be denied a first hand look at my genius after all."

Kongpob laughs. "They wouldn't have appreciated it anyway."

Jax's expression abruptly turns serious. "Now I know it might be hard, but you're going to have to keep that happiness in check when the reporter's get here," he says sternly. "Remember, we've just suffered a terrible loss."

Kongpob rolls his eyes. "It'll be fine. I'm an actor, remember?"

"Of course I remember, I taught you everything you know." He pats Kongpob on the knee and stands. "Now hurry and get dressed. They're going to be here soon."

Kongpob is far too happy to be annoyed by his brother, even when Jax sends him back upstairs to change when he comes down not looking 'somber' enough. Jax looks somber enough for both of them, wearing head-to-toe black in mourning. He'd even placed a giant black bow over the conspicuously empty spot in their foyer where the Venus had once been displayed.

When the reporters come, Kongpob stands solemnly next to his brother, who insists Kongpob let him do all the talking. He congratulates himself on his foresight in not telling Jax, whose fake grief is excessive even without knowing the truth.

"The thing is I knew," he says tearfully. "I woke up in the middle of the night with a sudden premonition, a feeling that something was terribly wrong. I thought it must have been something I'd eaten, but then this morning..." He trails off as though overcome with emotion while cameras flash and reporters scribble in their notebooks.

"Is it true the Venus was uninsured?" one asks.

Jax stiffens slightly. "No, I'm sure I signed something," he says airily.

"But it wasn't official until after tomorrow's technical examination, correct?" asks another. "Do you have any plans to sue the museum for displaying it before the insurance went through?"

"No!" Jax says, much too quickly. He catches Kongpob's reproving look and corrects, "I mean, I couldn't possibly think about money at a time like this," successfully moving the conversation back to his fake grief.

Jax is clearly enjoying the spotlight and Kongpob lets him bask in it, his own mind occupied with wondering how long it will be before he can go see Arthit.

Once all the reporters are finally gone, Jax sweeps him up in a hug. "Let's celebrate," he says, pulling away to put his hands on Kongpob's shoulders. "Champagne, firecrackers, the works!"

"Later. I'm meeting someone at the Ritz, but I'll be back for dinner. We'll celebrate then, I promise."

Jax's eyes narrow. "Right, I forgot to ask, how was your date last night?"

Kongpob smiles. "It was perfect."

Kongpob's halfway through speeding his way to the hotel when he makes himself slow down, figuratively as well as literally. He always falls too hard too fast, he knows that, and Arthit is an actual criminal . That alone merits some caution. Okay, so technically Kongpob is now a criminal too, but that was a one time thing. There's no sense in getting caught up in something doomed to fail, especially since he'll be going back to his real life in Bangkok soon anyway.

But then, Kongpob has never been all that sensible.

He at least knows well enough to avoid meeting Arthit in his room, instead calling up to ask him to meet in the dining room. It's fitting, he thinks, to celebrate where it all began.

Any resolve he'd had shatters the moment he sees Arthit walk in, his face breaking into a smile that answers Arthit's own when his eyes find Kongpob.

"Well congratulations. We did it," Arthit says, sliding into the booth, much too close, not that Kongpob minds.

"Have you seen the papers?" Kongpob asks excitedly. Everything else aside, Arthit is the only one he can talk to about the burglary and he's bursting to. "It's practically the crime of the century, and we did it! I mean, it was mostly you, but I helped didn't I?"

Arthit motions for him to be quieter but he can't stop smiling either.

"Sorry," Kongpob says. He lowers his voice to a less conspicuous level. "You must be used to this feeling by now, but it's my first burglary!"

Arthit gives a strange little chuckle and says, "Yeah, mine too."

Kongpob laughs but Arthit's smile has faded. He looks almost anxious. "Wait, what are you talking about? You were literally robbing me when we first met."

"Actually you assumed I was there to rob you." He shrugs. "I just thought it best to play along. I didn't know you'd shoot me."

Kongpob's confusion grows. It's hardly unreasonable to assume a stranger sneaking around your house late at night is a thief. "Well then why were you there that night?"

Arthit hesitates a moment, then folds his hands on the table, looks Kongpob in the eye and says, "I'm a private detective who specializes in tracing stolen art and in detecting and exposing forgeries."

Kongpob's eyes widen as it sinks in. Jax . "So, when you were looking at the Van Gogh-"

Arthit nods in confirmation. "I had already taken a paint sample when you caught me."

Every moment since they'd met flashes by as Kongpob tries to make sense of it all. "I don't understand. Why did you agree to help me steal something if you're not a burglar?"

"Well, I wasn't planning to actually go through with it," Arthit says. "I only agreed so I could try to talk you out of it, but then a real plan started to form and I figured, why not? I serve as a security consultant to several museums, I'm kind of an authority actually, and I must admit I've always wondered what it'd be like to use my powers for evil."

"So, you're really not a criminal?" says Kongpob, still half expecting Arthit to yell 'gotcha' and start laughing.

"Well I am now . You've been quite a terrible influence on me."

Arthit smiles but Kongpob is quite distressed. He'd had it all backwards this entire time.

"Wow, I didn't realize my bad boy appeal was so important to you." Arthit says lightly. "If it helps, I did really break into your house."

Oh, right. He'd been so focused on what this meant for him that he's forgotten all about Jax. "If you took a paint sample then-"

"I know it's fake, yeah. But don't worry, I told my employer the results were inconclusive."

Kongpob tilts his head, questioning. "You did? Why?"

Arthit shrugs. "I didn't know how involved you were. I didn't want to get you into trouble."

Kongpob blinks, a smile beginning to form. "But you didn't even know me."

"What can I say, you made quite an impression."

Kongpob does smile then. When you got right down to it, all that's really changed is that Arthit isn't an actual criminal, which is undoubtedly a good thing. A thought strikes him. "Does this mean that car is yours?"

"Bought and paid for."

Alright, screw caution. "What do you say we get out of here?"

"I'd say it's about time."

As they leave the hotel dining room it almost feels like they're back at the museum again, buzzing with giddy anticipation. That is until they walk straight into Jax .

"So, this must be the tall, handsome thief you told me about," Jax says looking rather proud of himself as he glares at Arthit, who glances at Kongpob with a raised eyebrow. "Where's my Venus?"

Kongpob spends so much time being exasperated by his brother that he forgets that Jax isn't actually all that dumb. He'd never have gotten away with his forgeries for so long if he was.

"Gone," Arthit says with one of his infuriatingly smug smiles. "I'm afraid it's been lost forever. Anything that may surface from here on out is merely a fake."

Jax looks at Kongpob, aghast. "You told him?"

"No! He just figured it out. You see, it turns out that he's not really a thief after all and - well it's complicated." Guiltily, he realizes he probably should have worked out what Arthit was planning to do about Jax before he decided to take things further with him.

"It's not really," Arthit says. "I catch art forgers. You are an art forger. One of us is going to have to retire and it's not gonna be me."

"He will," Kongpob says quickly. "One close call was enough, right Jax?"

Jax looks between them as if searching for an escape route, then gives one of his brilliant smiles. "Of course. The path of righteousness has become clear. I'll just leave you two to your...celebration and see you back at the house, Kongpob."

He turns and strides out of the hotel, whistling as he goes.

"For such a successful forger he's not a very good liar is he?" muses Arthit.

"No, he's not." He hopes Jax has learned something from this whole mess but even if he hasn't, Kongpob can hardly complain with the way things have turned out.

As they wait for the elevator Arthit says, "Maybe we should get out of the city for a while. Go to the beach, explore the French countryside. I'll drive."

"Sounds perfect. Although I have to be back in Bangkok by the end of summer."

"Hm, right."

Kongpob hesitates before realizing that nothing he could say would be riskier than robbing a museum and he'd done that just fine. "You know, there are a lot of museums in Bangkok."

"You don't say?"

"Yup. Probably a lot of art forgers too. Could be a good career move for you."

Arthit smiles as the elevator doors slide open with a ding. "You know, I think it will be."