The Rhodes Manor in Teignbridge peacefully slept in its perimeter of shrubbery and gates. Everything moved at a crawl. The security guards took in this rare moment of quiet and let their minds drift toward the warm home waiting at the end of the night shift. All the while, one pair of voices plotted.

    "It's cold as hell out here. Can't we just get the job done now and hightail it outta here?" A young man began to hop up and down as he whispered.
    
    "It's the dead of winter. You should've brought more than a sweater." His companion checked her call history. Her cell phone's florescent light flashed on. "Besides, we can't do anything until Mr. Boss rings me."

    The young man, called Blaise, rolled his eyes and continued his jumping. Hachette, the woman, shook her head and peeked around a large bush.

    She waved her hand impatiently at Blaise. "Stop that! Someone's coming!"

    Blaise quickly obeyed as a security guard strolled around the corner. His flashlight quickly found the pair's feet.
    
    "Hey! What do you two think you're doing?" he demanded.

    "It's alright. I've got it," the woman told Blaise.

    The eyed them suspiciously as he reached for his walkie-talkie. "I'm bringing you guys in for trespassing."

    Hachette smiled enthusiastically. "We weren't trespassing. We wanted to see the manor."

    Caught off guard, the man abandoned all thoughts of the walkie-talkie. "Sight-seeing? At this time of night?"
    
    "Night? It's midday, good sir," she cordially replied. Her fake smile twitched at one edge.

    The guard glanced around in confusion. His eyelids fluttered. "Seems you're quite right ma'am. I don't know why I had this darn thing on," He muttered. "Well, no mischief. And stay outside the gates, y'hear?"

    The guard bid g'night and left mumbling to himself
    
    Blaise glanced at his wrist, wondering what was the time. He threw a glance at the woman, who was checking her call history once again. Blaise sighed internally and said aloud, "No matter your name, I'd hate to cross you. I'll end up walking off a cliff one day."

    Hachette smiled, a real one. "That's too plain a death."

    Blaise chuckled.

    The sound of bells through a small speaker added to his laugh. "Well, that's our cue." He put on a weary smile as he set the high bushes ablaze with only a thought.

    Once the plants were ashes, Blaise put out the flames the same way he created them.

    "Getting better, I see."
    
    The pair sprinted across the lawn and toward the door.

    "Door's locked," Blaise said as he turned the knob.

    "'Course, it is. Just pick the lock. I still don't trust you to melt the knob off properly."

    Blaise fumbled through his pockets. "Just checkin'. No sense in pciking the lock of an unlocked door." He sighed. "Forget my pick. Give me your knife."

    "After I shove it through your stomach!" Hachette slapped his hand with the handle. "Don't melt it. It's my favorite."

    Blaise slid the blade between the door and its frame and past the knob. He eased the door open. "Vous voyez? No melting required."

    Hachette grabbed the knife, only to drop it.

    "Careful, it's hot." Blaise picked up the knife by the blade.

    "Showoff," she muttered. "Get in there."

    "Where's this Reeve Rhodes guy anyway?"

    "Dunno. We'll split up and look."

    "Cool. I'll takes the second floor." Blaise hopped up the steps.

    "Careful. I'll push you down those," she said, mostly to herself. "If you find him, burn him to a crisp."

    "Sure thing." Blaise wore another weary smile. Once I do, it's adieu. The final nail in my coffin.