Casing the Joint

It was funny, Tom thought. All it had taken was a criminal turn of mind and pretty soon they would be extremely wealthy. It wasn’t really good luck,, though, but rather skill—after all, him and all four of his teammates/fellow crew members/whatever else you wanted to call them were shape shifters. And fairly talented ones. The ability to look like anyone certainly helped when you were casing the joint, after all. Like now. Adam was about to pull one of those jobs.

It was rather convenient, after all. Nobody would look twice at a cute young brunette who went into a bank and asked a bunch of questions. At least, not until long after the job.

“Byeee!” Ashley called, with an exaggerated wave. Tom chuckled.


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