Rain beat against the ground. Melvin Purvis ran against the blistering rain, drenched from head to toe. Raindrops fell off the tip of his hat with each step. The air was muggy and disgusting, the sky as black as his shoes. The streets were silent and empty, aside from him and the group of men he was chasing after. They dispersed as they reached an alley, some going to the right to run down the streets, others going to the left toward the small park. Only one went straight into the alley.

And that was who he really wanted to catch.

He didn't care about anybody else at this point; he needed to catch that figure that sprinted ahead of him. His escapee's white fedora hat bobbed against the dark, making it easy for him to see.

There was a loud thud and a silent curse as the coated figure ahead of him jumped onto the escape ladders of an apartment complex. Purvis gained momentum, ignored the feeling of his aching legs, and jumped onto and off the green dumpster, flinging himself against the ladder. He grunted as he landed at a twisted angle. He hastily heaved himself up and started to make a mad dash up the slippery stairs, making loud clanging noises as he ran.

He slipped once but regained his balance immediately, grasping onto the railing and pushing himself up. He sprinted up the last few steps, breathing heavily, and skidded across the platform. Across from him, many feet away, he saw the back of somebody trying to jump—

"Stop right there!"

Much to his surprise, the person actually stopped. The trench coat swished, black, masculine shoes sprayed water about as they turned, and white teeth shown against the black night.

"Well, well, well." Had Purvis not known who it was, he would've been surprised to hear a female voice. After all, the attire she wore was definitely meant for a male. She was even wearing a suit. He was certain it wasn't for a new fashion trend, though. "If it isn't Mr. Melvin Purvis."

"You're under arrest, Rosa Anastasio." Rain dripped off his nose as he pointed his gun at her.

She frowned. "Is that your way of greeting somebody after all these years? Especially a woman?" Her harsh Brooklyn accent clashed much with his Southern one.

"You've always said that women should be treated as equals."

"Touché." She smirked. He knew that smirk all too well.

He took a few steps toward her, and the floor beneath him moaned in protest. They were up against the wall, on the aisle that one would go on in case of a fire.

"We've got a nice jail cell waiting for you," he said. "Come along now."

"Oh, but sugah, surely you'll keep me company, won't you?" She stepped out toward him, that seductive smirk on her face, her hat drawn at an angle so that only half of her face showed and cast the other in a dark shadow. Rain dribbled down her cheek and off her chin. He noted the increased number of scars across her cheek since he'd last seen her. Well, there certainly was a reason why she was called 'Scarface'.

"We'll catch the rest of your friends. They'll keep you some company."

She chuckled throatily. "I'd rather have your company over them any day."

"Oh?" He raised an eyebrow. "I thought you would like their company more, considering the time you spent with them to organize all those illegal, underground gambling networks."

Her smirk was one of amusement. "Nah, I'd still rather spend time with you. We have a lot to catch up on, don't we? You were all so damn busy chasin' after Dilinger that you and I never had a chance to speak. But now that he's dead, you and I got all the time in the world to talk."

"We can catch up later, when you're in jail and I get to ask you all about your life."

"Why ask me about it when you can be a part of it?" she purred, taking steps closer to him, seeming unfazed by the gun pointed at her.

He was amused. "What are you trying to say?"

"I think you know exactly what I'm trying to say, darlin'," she said and stepped right up to him, her face a breath away from his. He looked down at her and slowly lowered his arm back to his side. "We could do it. You and me. Run away together. Nobody would ever know."

He chuckled, slowly winding his hand back in his pocket. "And how do you think we would get away with it?"

She grinned, and a golden tooth winked at him. "I got my connections. I'll manage somethin'."

"You really think of me as a fool, don't you?"

"Only foolishly in love."

He was silent for a moment, but then put his hands to her shoulders and let his hands slither down that oversized coat of hers. He leaned in even closer to her, so that he could even feel her breathe on him.

"Then I'll take a fool's chance."

She raised her eyebrows in disbelief and, for a moment, seemed to be under the impression that he was going to kiss her.

And that was when she heard the click of handcuffs.

"You, Rosa Anastasio, are finally under arrest." Purvis drew himself back to full height, unable to help the triumphant smirk.

"Damn," she smirked. "Either I'm losing my edge or I've taught you well over the years."

"It's a mix of both."

"I guess the suit was kinda a turn-off, huh?"

"I actually like the suit. It was better than being faced with a nearly half-naked woman."

"Hey, I was fully clothed, thank you very much!" He felt her shake with laughter. "Ah, well, you'll be happy to know that I'll always be wearin' suits nowadays."

"And why would that be?" he asked casually as he started to push her across the aisle and toward the escape ladders on the other side.

"Do you see many women in my area of work?"

He raised his eyebrows; he wasn't expecting that. "No."

"Didn't think so."

He said nothing, contemplating over everything. Her area of work, as she put it, had always been in line with the Mafia. And, indeed, women were never a part of the Mafia. Anastasio had always been more of the bait than anything, using that sultry voice of hers to work her way both in and out of trouble. Now, though...Now she had to be involved much more directly.

"Are we walking to the station in this weather?" Her voice snapped him out of his thoughts. "I dunno 'bout you, but I don't really consider the rain so romantic."

"I'll get us a taxi."

"Such the gentleman. How 'bout we stop at a restaurant while we're at it?"

"I think not. You see, you're actually staying in jail this time 'round."

He was sure she smirked. "I wouldn't be so sure 'bout that, pretty boy."

"You better not try anything—"

There was a loud roar of an engine. Anastasio slammed Purvis against the railing, and he hastily recovered in time to watch her land on her feet against a mobile car. She lost her balance and nearly toppled over, but a pair of hands came out from the car and pulled her in.

Purvis angrily shot at the car and heard a window smash. He heard a laugh, and then Anastasio's face popped out of the shattered window in the back. "We'll meet again, pretty boy!" she shouted with a laugh. Her hat blew off her head and landed on the wet pavement. The car disappeared around a corner, and Purvis simply stared after it in disbelief.

And then, coming to his senses, he dashed down the stairwell. He retrieved Anastasio's fallen hat without a thought and ran out to the street. It was completely deserted, and a single lamppost lit the area. He leaned against the brick wall and put a hand to his temple. He slammed his gloved fist against the wall in frustration and muttered, "Damn it."

The wind picked up and rain splattered against his face. He held onto his hat so it wouldn't blow away, and was suddenly reminded of the white hat he held in his hand. He looked at it expressionlessly, twirling it around in his hand.

Then he smirked.

She hadn't been lying; he really was going to meet her again. He was going to track her down and find her, one way or another. FBI agents were around every corner, phones were being tapped, Mafia leaders and connections were being tracked down. It would only be a matter of time when they'd catch her.

Besides, she thought this was all just a silly little game. She thought that she just had to survive all the levels, and then she'd win. But that was where she was wrong. Very, very wrong. Unlike the gambling she did, it wasn't a matter of chance or luck. This game couldn't be rigged. Sure, she could find a way to cheat and get away with it, but only for so long.

This was his game. His rules. No matter what, no matter what she said or did, he was going to win.

He always won.

Hey guys! I hoped you enjoyed my little Purvis X OC one-shot. I've been meaning to write this as soon as I finished watching Public Enemies, but never really got around to it. Well, I did now. I've seen so many Dilinger X OC stories, but Purvis got no love! So this is my little tribute to Purvis. He's always been such the gentleman, so I thought it'd be interesting to pair him with a saucy woman.

I think I'm going to watch this movie again. Too bad guys these days don't dress up the way the men in the 30's did, huh?

Happy reading!