AN: The last thing I needed right now was another new story, but I had the idea and wanted to write it down. As always, characters are not mine.

"Well well. I am surprised to see you here."

The young lady at the roulette table looked up at the sound of the voice in her ear.

"Lovely to see you too, ferret face."

"How did you manage to afford such an outfit? Sell that run-down old shack you call a house? No, that wouldn't have fetched nearly enough."

Standing up, she smoothed out the sapphire silk before turning to face him.

"I earned it, if you must know. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have places to be."

"Earned it? Doing what, exactly?"

"That is none of your business."

She walked swiftly away, matching heels clicking in the polished wooden floor. Making a quick decision, he followed her out of the casino.

………………

The Las Vegas Strip was always crawling with wealthy tourists who couldn't wait to sample the "delights" of the city, be it the gambling, circus shows, or the girls. Much as she hated to admit it, this was how one young woman trying to escape her previous live was currently making a living. On the run from the wizarding world, Ginevra Weasley had moved from England to Las Vegas, and had, until tonight, remained completely undetected.

"At least," she thought, "Malfoy isn't going to run back to my parents to tell them where I am and what I'm doing. I suppose I'm lucky it wasn't Harry or Hermione."

Thinking of Harry brought tears to her eyes, as always. They'd been engaged, soon to be married, when Ginny had gotten the biggest case of cold feet imaginable, called off the wedding, and fled half way around the world. She still had her engagement ring, but it was now on a chain around her neck, instead of her hand. In her line of work, she couldn't be seen with such an obvious sign of a relationship. Not that she had any intention of marrying Harry Potter any more.

"Wait!" Ginny stopped automatically, and waited for him to catch up.

"Why are you following me, Draco Malfoy?"

"Look, you're the first person I've seen from Hogwarts in a long time, unless you count people like your brother who hate me and still try to hex me on sight."

"Yes, well. I'm probably not his favourite person at the moment either."

"What did you do, leave Potter at the altar or something?"

"Practically, yes."

"Now I'm intrigued. What are you doing in Vegas all alone?"

"If you don't mind, I'm working tonight. We can talk some other time. Go away."

"Exactly what is it you do?"

"Do you really want to know that, Malfoy?"

"That's why I'm asking."

"I'm a call girl, Malfoy. A prostitute. And you're scaring off my clients, so please leave."

"Surely you could find a better job than that?"

"I'm trying to avoid the wizarding world for a while, in case anybody is trying to track me down. And no muggle is going to employ a teenage runaway with no qualifications."

"Teenage?"

"You're twenty, unless I'm very much mistaken, and I'm a year younger, making me nineteen."

He paused, seeming to think about something.

"How much do you charge for a night, Weasley?"

"What?" She looked at him in amazement.

"I want to talk to you, so I'll pay for your time. How much?"

They agreed an amount, and Ginny led the way to a hotel room that was reserved for her use. At least in Las Vegas, she wasn't treated like a leper for the way she earned her money. Pouring them both a stiff drink, she kicked off her shoes and relaxed into a large, padded armchair. Opposite her, Malfoy did the same.

"Go on then, start asking while I'm still inclined to answer you."

"What happened between you and Potter?"

"Just as I finished Hogwarts, he asked me to marry him. Everybody knew he was going to ask, and you can imagine their reactions if I'd said no. So I agreed, thinking we could have a long engagement, and get married after I'd finished my Healer training. That's what I always wanted to be; I don't suppose you knew."

Ginny paused, sipped her drink, and looked at Draco questioningly.

"Carry on. What happened next?"

"I wasn't allowed to apply for Healer training, was I? I got dragged round practically the entire country by my mother, looking at houses for us to live in after the wedding. I must have been forced to try on over a thousand wedding dresses, choose the rings, organise the whole damn thing, while Harry is off doing his job as an Auror. Oh yes, I wasn't allowed to have a job, according to mother. She's somewhat old-fashioned about things like this, and thought I should stay at home to look after all the children we were apparently going to have. It just hit me one day that I was going to be tied down to a boring life of housework and childcare, and I wasn't even out of my teens. I panicked, gathered as much money as I could, and bought a ticket on the first flight I could. That flight happened to land here, and this is where I've been ever since.

"And you're ok with this?"

"If I hadn't left, I would now have been married nine months, and my mother would be extremely disappointed, possibly even angry, if I wasn't about to give birth. I'm coping with it."

"Where do you live?"

"In a scruffy little apartment about half a mile away. It's not much, but at least it's mine."

"I'm surprised they're not all out looking for you.

"They won't find me unless they run into me like you did. I bought the apartment under a different name, no-one here knows me as Ginny Weasley, and besides, most of them are far too busy to even think about looking. I'm pretty sure Hermione checks everywhere she goes – she's a curse-breaker, so she travels a lot. Ronald couldn't care less – he's like Harry's lapdog, and I'm almost certain he hates me for running away."

"I always knew the Weasel would do anything Potter told him to do."

There was a long pause as Ginny downed the remainder of her drink, stood up and began pacing the room.

"Alright, Malfoy. I've told you my story, what do you want from me? Going to run and owl the Daily Prophet, send all my relatives running over here, looking for me? I already told you, I go by a different name here."

"Relax, Weasley. The last thing I'm going to do is write to the Prophet. I simply want to ask if you'll join me for dinner tomorrow night."

Despite herself, Ginny was tempted. A free meal was always a good thing, in her opinion, since she had to spend most of what she earned on the fancy outfits that were required in Las Vegas.

"Ok then. You can pick me up from here."

"In that case, I'll see you at 7.30."

"Very well."

"Oh, and by the way, what name do I call you when we're in public?"

Ginny hesitated, knowing that this was a vital piece of information for anybody trying to find her. Still, Malfoy wasn't likely to ever speak to her family, and it was a better option than having half the city find out her real name.

"I go by the name Talina. No surname."

"Talina." He repeated the name, slowly, almost drawling it. "See you tomorrow, Talina."

He left, closing the door behind him. Ginny sat down heavily on the bed, trying to stop herself from running after him. The way he'd said her name, it sent shivers down her spine. The good kind. Ever since she'd started earning money this way, she'd looked at sex as simply her job – something that had to be done, whether it was enjoyable or not. But she was beginning to find Draco Malfoy unbelievably sexy, and she wanted him. It was ironic really, she'd abandoned her fiancé, only to be lusting after his old enemy a few months later.

Realising that she wouldn't be able to sleep for a while after that revelation, she poured another drink from the well-stocked minibar and started flicking through the TV channels. However, she found that her mind kept drifting back to Draco Malfoy, and eventually she resigned herself to that fact, allowing her daydreams free reign, which was something she did so rarely. Tomorrow night should be… interesting, she mused.

AN: So, now you've read it, it's time to review!