20 minutes later, I was marching myself back up the drive to Ridgeback Ranch, with a renewed sense of determination to get to the bottom of this whole thing.

My mind had been a whirl of activity from the moment Gina'd dropped Rich's family history on me. My thoughts for the better part of the last half hour had gone something like this:

So what if Rich had motive? He didn't have opportunity… that first attack happened while he was training me… but that had been the result of a change in pen assignments on the scheduled exercise board… it could have been done any time… but the goats… he didn't involve himself with them at all… but it's not like it would have been difficult for him to open the pen after hours, as Cletis said, it wasn't like the goats were kept under lock and key… but getting on to the grounds after hours in the first place would have been difficult, if the Temporary Services office is warded against that kind of thing, surely Ridgeback is too… but Rich had his whole childhood to find all the secret ways in to this place… but were there even secret ways in?… there were always secret ways in…

And of course, in the background, repeating over and over again in my head was one more unrelated, yet large and looming question… "what the hell had Malfoy wanted?" this was spoken aloud as I reached the gates, and kicked the ground lightly with the toe of my boot. It was the question that I mulled over as I swung open the twin-dragoned wrought iron gate, and the question I pondered as I pulled it shut behind me… it was the question I was asking myself when the cry of "Miss Granger!" from across the courtyard nearly caused me to jump out of my skin.

I turned to see Cletis closing the considerable distance between us with just a few of his long strides, then stopping in front of me.

"Yes?" I inquired.

"I'm sure you know that the boss stopped by for you by now."

"Yes… he dropped by the restaurant."

Cletis had the decency to look sheepish, "yeah, sorry about that… but he asked where went… I had to tell him."

I heaved a sigh. "I suppose you did… I know from experience he's not an easy man to refuse."

Cletis chuckled softly, "no, he certainly isn't that. He's persuasive, and powerful, and knows how to use one when the other fails him… anyway, did he tell you what he wanted?"

Funny he should ask… "no. He pretty much contented himself with tainting my water, glaring at my date, and just, in general, being an ass. Usual Malfoy stuff." I shrugged. "didn't happen to say anything to you, did he?" so I could stop worrying about it.

Cletis shook his head, "nope, just asked where you'd gone off to," Cletis paused, and chewed his bottom lip.

"Cletis, you knew about the… problems… between Malfoy and Rich, didn't you?"

He sniffed "course I did… It's my job to know these things, remember? And incidentally, I think it was a bad move on Rich's part to ask you to lunch…" he gave me a pointed look, "or on yours to accept."

"Why not? I'm a free woman, I just work for Malfoy, I don't let him control my off hours."

Cletis gave me that shrug again, "sure."

I was starting to fume, "what?"

Cletis just gave me a benevolent smile, and a large-handed pat on the head, "nothing, nothing at all."

I couldn't bring myself to glare at him, however much I might want to. It really wasn't Cletis I was mad at, but I couldn't help but speak a bit snappishly, "was there anything else, or can I get back to work?"

"Just one more thing… I just wanted to let you know… because now that you know about Rich's family, well, you might get the wrong idea. I wanted to set you straight. Rich might hate Malfoy, but he's honorable, and he still loves this ranch. He'd never do anything to damage its reputation."

Never do anything… My eyes widened in shock. Cletis… he… "You know."

He grinned, "it's my job, remember? And besides, why else did you think you were assigned here? Like you were so anxious to point out, you have no experience, and it's a dangerous job."

So Cletis knew… and so did Malfoy. That was it. The next time I saw that pointy nosed git, I was going to kill him.

I entered the goat enclosure, to the bleating protests of disgruntled nanny goats, on a search for Elwood Michaels. What I found was four lanky limbs, clothed haphazardly in denim and flanel, dangling over the edge of an empty trough. At least I hoped it was empty. Knowing my luck, the saboteur had struck again, and clamed his first fatality. Drowned in a tub of goat water.

"Mr. Michaels?" I asked timidly.

No response, but I could now just make out the faint buzz-saw sound of snoring.

I gave the offending limbs a glare for the worry, and approached.

"Mr. Michaels?" I repeated, more firmly this time, and with just a hint (okay, maybe more than just a hint) of annoyance.

His right arm twitched once before he jerked it inside the box, and out of view.

"Mmm… Five more minutes, Mum," came the mumbled reply, just before the arm found its way back into view, and once again over the side of the trough.

I came right up to the edge, now, and peered in. inside was a thin, dark haired man, comprised, I'm sure, of nothing but angles, from the tip of his slightly over-large nose to the bottom of his booted feet. And not 'all angles' in the way, say… Malfoy was. I got a bad taste in my mouth just thinking his name after what I'd just found out from Cletis, but I had to admit it… Malfoy was angles in a way as to be… elegant… regal… sophisticated… refined. On Elwood, it just made him look rough-hewn, like his master sculptor had ceased his chiseling just shy of being finished.

Of course, I mused (in a tone eerily similar to Molly Weasley's) He probably would have had fewer of those unflattering angles, if he'd had a bit more meat on his bones. The boy was little better than a glorified skeleton.

A snoring skeleton.

"Hey!?" I said sharply, accompanying this with a sharp poke to the ribs, "Mr. Michaels… WAKE UP!"

this earned me a bleary eyed squint, and an "eh?"

"Morning," I replied.

A moment later, he nearly toppled the trough trying to get out of it.

"terribly sorry, ma'am. Must've slipped and fell… hit my head and passed out in there… really… I don't sleep on the job…" he spit out, in a high, slightly panicked voice.

"No?"

"Well, not usually, anyway…" he picked himself up off the ground where he had fallen when the trough had dumped him out, and dusted himself off.

"Indeed?"

He gave me a sheepish grin. "Yeah… I wouldn't want it getting back to the boss that I was slacking, after all."

"Oh, I wouldn't worry about Cletis."

"Not that boss," he said, with a meaningful wink.

"Malfoy?" I asked, incredulous. He just grinned back. "Why would you think I'd tell Malfoy?"

"Well… there's something going on there, right?"

right? Right! "What the hell are you talking about? I wouldn't touch that slimy, manipulative, low-life, bastard, son of a—"

"Wow… guess I touched a nerve. Okay, so I was wrong, it's just… I mean, half the ranch assumed there was something when he showed up so fast after your accident."

I bit my tongue to keep from snapping back. The truth was, I wasn't really mad at Micheals, how could I be… but by this time, it had been a long day, and I was frustrated and angry, and more than a little confused. And it was giving me a short temper.

Not a very diplomatic attitude, and since what I really needed was to try and get a bit of information out of Michaels, and do so subtly (just because the Cletis, and the Malfoy knew about me, didn't mean I wanted to let any of the other employees in on the reason why I was here) I thought it best not to vent my frustrations on him.

I continued a moment later in a much more calm, and relaxed voice. "Cletis wanted me to assist with the feedings," I lied. I figured it would be as good a way to start as any.

I didn't expect his dramatic shift in attitude, as the grin turned into a grimace, "Well, then he's sent you to the wrong place, hasn't he?" He said, his voice tight and with a bitter edge. Great… now I've pissed him off. I suspected that I'd put him out of a talking mood, and thought I might have to try less subtle ways to find out what I needed to know. I needn't have worried. Apparently, Michaels was possessed of a genuinely pleasant disposition, and although his next words came out wistful, they held none of the bitterness from before. "I don't actually do the feedings anymore."

"Oh?"

"Well," he blushed, "I'm sort of… on probation."

"On probation?"

"Yeah… well… it's sort of my second time…" he frowned at the look I gave him, "hey, neither incident was really my fault… more like a combination of bad luck, and bad timing."

"It is my experience that misfortune follows those who court it."

He heaved a sigh, "look, I'm not saying I did nothing, just that I didn't do enough to be considered negligent, that's all… I mean, sure, I told Todd Hastings to put his head in the that yearling's mouth, but I never thought he'd do it!"

I snorted, "who would?"

"Exactly! But try telling that to Cletis. He was livid, and to make matters worse, just when things were starting to turn around… I was working my way back up the ranks, getting back some of my responsibilities, and then someone had to go and change the exercise schedules, and before you know it, I've got the two most temperamental dragons on the ranch in a pen together!"

I'm sorry, what was that? Michaels was the other keeper in the pen that day? But of course he was, because this case couldn't get any more complicated. I gave the man a scrutinizing look, I'd sort of discounted him as a long shot based on his file, and now, having met him, I didn't think him any more a saboteur than I did before. But he had been involved in the last two incidences… no, I was barking up the wrong tree with this one. No guy who sleeps in a trough is a criminal mastermind. There was just no way.

"Listen, if you aren't doing the feedings anymore, perhaps you could point me in the right direction, at least… Cletis did say that I was to help."

"Oh, right… um, I think Rich is taking care of it today… should be in pen 4 right now. You should go find him, before he moves o— hey, are you alright?"

At the thought of going to find Rich, I'd turned a lovely shade of lily (the result of a combination of the indignity of being walked out on, the shock of finding out his possible motive in sabotage, and the impropriety of my actions in dating a possible suspect) "fine," I bit out, tightly. "Just fine."

He didn't say anything, but his look was skeptical as he bid me adieu.

Out of view, I was sure he climbed back into his trough. I on the other hand, took a great deal of the frustration I was feeling out on the ground. A few boot stomps. Didn't really do the trick. I still felt like my head was going to explode. One suspect with motive and means, but no opportunity; one with means and opportunity, but no motive; and another with… well… opportunity, I suppose, but not much more than suspicion.

This last one was Bo, of course. I wasn't sure if what was going on there was related to the saboteur, but I was positive that something was going on.

I almost wished this was a murder case. They were easier, in some ways… a body could be spelled to reveal cause of death. I still had no idea exactly how this guy was operating.

I had a feeling this was going to take much longer than the week I'd been given. Typical Malfoy. I supposed I should feel flattered that he thought he could just drop this in my lap, and I'd wave my wand and take care of it, but what I felt was supremely frustrated… oh, and the beginnings of a headache. I supposed I'd just have to work on it in my off hours next week… when I wasn't nursing sore feet from waitressing.

I know I've said it before, but this time I really meant it. When I saw that stupid little ferret again, he was dead!

I spent the rest of my day plotting just when and how I'd go about making that happen, and boy, was I just itching for it.

Okay, so I also did a fair amount of obsessing about what he'd wanted, and imagined the worst (oh, Granger, about next week… I'm sorry, we've decided you should do entertainment after all… you know how to strip, right?) which caused the worst kind of shudders to wrack my body.

It was a relief when five o'clock rolled around.

I immediately headed back over to the Dirty Witch. Gina had said I could use her fireplace to floo Mickey, and thinking about my computer meant that I wasn't thinking about Malfoy. What followed was an odd conversation, where Mickey told me that it would be fine for me to bring my laptop over immediately, all in binary. Either that, or he'd just convinced me to switch long distance carriers. That was one language I'd never been fluent in.

I'd had a glass of wine, you know, just to fortify myself, before apparating to his cabin.

By cabin, what I mean, of course, is leaky shack in the woods. Deep in the fucking woods. Mickey lived on a border, where a magic forest met a mundane one. Why the world's most techno-savvy wizard would choose to live so far away from civilization, I'll never know, but he had access to both the www, and the wwn via satellite uplink, and an enchanted generator kept the whole operation running, so he got on fine, I supposed. Still…

He was waiting for me on the front porch, barefooted, and shirtless, in overalls when I apparated in. These days, Mickey was looking pale enough to make a Malfoy jealous, and like he'd been too busy on his computer to eat, sleep, or wash his hair for several days. In other words, Mickey, these days, was looking much like Mickey any other day.

"Good evening, Mick."

"Hermi," he greeted back, and I treated him to a frustrated scowl.

"You know I hate it when you call me that."

"Do you?" He asked with sincerity, and I knew it was genuine. That was pure Mickey, too. A genius when it came to motherboards, and disk drives, media storage devices, and other electronic gadgets, but when it came to the little things, he couldn't be bothered.

I must have told him every time I saw him that I hate to be called by this particular nickname.

"So," he asked, rubbing his hands together in anticipation, "where's the patient?"

I rolled my eyes, and wondered, not for the first time, if all men were perpetually children, or if I'd just lucked out. "It's in my bag, Mick, just let me get it out." So saying, I unslung my laptop case, and reached inside for my notebook, pulling it out and handing it over with a bit of reluctance.

It didn't help my nervous system that he was grinning like a maniac when he took it from me, and his "let us withdraw to the operating room," had an ominous ring to it. Dear God, I'd just given my baby to Dr. Frankenstein.

"Interesting…" I'm not ashamed to admit that those words caused my heart to leap into my throat, and my hair to stand up on the back of my neck. Trust me, when those words belong to one Mickey Mckay, and he utters them as he has your four thousand dollar laptop in pieces and spread across and honest to God operating table, those are the scariest words you'll ever hear. He adjusted his magnifying glass, and poked another chip with a set of tweezers. "Interesting…" he repeated again, and I clutched the arm of the chair I was sitting in.

"What's so interesting?" Did I really want to know?

"'What's so interesting?'" he echoed, and gave me and 'as if you didn't know' look. "So how'd you do it?"

"Do what?"

"Oh, don't be coy, Hermi, we both know what… so come on, spill!" he clapped his hands together in a manner that fairly screamed 'teenage girl.' I felt sick.

"I'm not being coy."

He snorted, "fine, you don't want to tell me, that's alright… just don't expect me to fix it if I don't know how it got broken."

"Mick, pretend for a minute that not everyone in the world is heartless enough to experiment on defenseless computer components, and give me the benefit of the doubt. I didn't do anything to it, so tell me what's wrong."

He sighed, "well, it's fried, of course. In the most literal sense… scorch marks and everything. Although, it looks like you let a small rodent chew on the Mainboard before that, but yeah… fried."

"I didn't let anything chew on my comput—I'm sorry, did you say small rodent?"

I was out of my seat in a shot, and pushing Mickey out of the way. I ignored his grumble of "no need to shove," and took up the magnifying glass from where he'd dropped it on the table. A squinting examination of the board revealed that sure enough, the edges were worn with tooth marks. As were many of the chips, and the scorched areas.

So that's how the saboteur was doing it… I slammed the magnifying glass back down, hard enough to crack it.

"You're replacing that," Mickey grumbled, as he plopped himself onto the couch. "And I want to know what happened there."

"Gremlins." I choked out. "It was gremlins"

"Gremlins…" I was muttering again a little while later, as I fumbled with my key in the lock.

I supposed that explained a lot of things. It was what had stopped the saboteur from causing any real havoc. I mean, he'd made some trouble to be sure, but not nearly so bad as he could have. Imagine, for example, if he'd just opened the dragon pens. It would have been instant chaos, and the staff at Ridgeback would have been too few to contain all the dragons. It was almost a sure thing that there'd be at least a good half-dozen of the blighters terrorizing the countryside by nightfall, if that ever happened. I'd just assumed that the saboteur never did it, because he'd be too close to the carnage when it broke. Now my possibilities opened up.

It could literally be anyone.

And yes, I was still sure there was a person behind this. Gremlins were known for being trouble makers, and I was no expert on them, for sure, but I did know enough about the little bastards to know that they thrived on gadgets, making minced meat of technical items was their M.O. A whole troupe of gremlins didn't just up and move to what was probably the most low-tech establishment in England. And even if they did… they wouldn't stay there.

I pushed open the door, and dropped my empty case onto the floor (I'd left my computer with Mickey for extensive surgery… he was positive he could save it, and I figure he couldn't possible fuck it up any worse than it was) and leaned against the door as I shut it.

What a day.

"Chrissake, Granger, did you walk home?"

And apparently, it wasn't over yet.

My head snapped up to meet gray eyes, that peered at me over the back of the couch, where Draco Malfoy was stretched out languidly. I worked my mouth silently, for moment, to stunned to even demand that he leave.

Here was my chance. I'd been dying to have a swing at him all day, and here he was, begging for it. I could launch myself at him, throttle him until he stopped twitching, and claim that he'd broken in and attacked me. I was sure I'd get away with it.

I wanted to take him by the primly pressed collar of his expensive silk robes and shake him until my arms gave out, or his neck snapped.

What I did, once I finally got my throat working was to tell him to "get your filthy shoes off the couch."

"I really don't see what the problem is, I'm sure it comes as no surprise to you that this couch is hideous," but he complied… well, sort of. He complied with the literal meaning, kicking his shoes off, and wriggling his socked toes. He didn't comply with the implied meaning, which was 'get your shoes off my couch, and your ass out my front door,' but I was sure by the smirk it wasn't because he hadn't understood it. "And it's damaged," he continued to drawl, "seriously Granger, I never pegged you as a smoker."

"I'm not. And don't take your shoes off… it implies that you're staying."

"I am. And who's the smoker?"

It was useless. I groaned, and moved myself out of the doorway to sit across from my lounging boss, in the armchair.

"What do you want, Malfoy?"

"There's plenty of time for that, no need to skip polite conversation."

"Malfoy, nothing about you is polite."

He grinned, but his eyes were icy, "you didn't answer my question."

"That's because it's none of your business," I shrieked in exasperation.

"Not either of your platonic playmates, Potter and Weasley, I gather… and ex-boyfriend?"

I hadn't even realized I was drawing my wand, until it was out, and by that time, Malfoy was kneeling before me on he floor, one strong hand curled around my wand arm, while the other rested just above my knee. I was suddenly, and intensely aware of the way his nearness had set my pulse racing. He was so close I could smell him. Spicy, like cinnamon and nutmeg.

God, I didn't want to smell him!

I tried to pull back, but he just tightened his grip on my knee, causing me to squeak (in the most dignified way, I assure you).

"Hey, now, where do you think you're going? Hm?"

"Come on, Malfoy," I said, dropping my head to hide the blush I could already feel creeping into my face, "I'm not going to hex you, alright… just let me go."

I heard the rustle of his robes, as he shifted to a standing position without relinquishing his hold. "Granger," he said roughly. I looked up, to find myself face to face with him as he leaned over, "see that you don't."

And just like that, he withdrew, taking his intoxicating scent with him. I was relieved, and disappointed, and disgusted with myself all at once, and so my inquiry of "you're business here?" came out a bit shaky.

"My assistant needs lessons."

"Forget it, Malfoy, abstract thought is one of those things you either have, or you don't. Not even I can hope to teach it to that Playboy Bunny posing as an assistant."

"You are a laugh a minute, aren't you, Granger?" he sneered, "actually, she's taking dancing lessons, Tuesdays and Saturdays. The problem is, I've got some paperwork that needs to be done by Saturday, so that I can look over it on Sunday, so that I can have it committed to memory by Monday."

"And this effects me, how?"

He gave me a devilish grin… it was the sort of grin I'm sure got him his way a lot, and quirked an eyebrow. "You know, I do pay overtime on weekends… it'd come a long way to buying you a new couch."

I was not so easily manipulated. "Forget it, I've already got plans."

"Break them." He left no room for argument.

"God, you're selfish."

"Is it selfish to know what you want, and take it?"

"Yes, Malfoy, that's what 'selfish' means."

"In that case," he said, folding his hands behind his head, and giving me a self-satisfied smirk, "consider me the most selfish man in England."

"I already do."

"But you'll do it?"

"No, you self-centered prat, this may come as a shock, but the sun does not rise and set for you. I will not be canceling my plans, and let me add, Mr. Malfoy, that you have a lot of nerve coming in here and making demands of me when you put me in such a dangerous position without even so much as a 'head's up, Granger.'"

"Ridgeback?"

"Yes, Ridgeback… when were you going to tell me that you knew?"

"When were you going to tell me that you did?"

"I… Well… Malfoy, that's different!"

"No it isn't."

"Yes it is… look, I didn't put you in any physical danger by not telling you, did I?"

"No, but then again, neither were you. I gave Cletis specific instructions on how you were to be treated, and I thought you'd figure it out on your own soon enough."

"And meanwhile, you could have a bit of a laugh at my expense?" He shrugged, "I'm sure you know that my lack of knowledge almost cost me my life!"

"The key word in that statement being 'almost.' I believe the Dragonhide suit I gave you saved your life, didn't it?" He cocked his head to one side, "incidentally, you wouldn't happen to be wearing it under those shapeless robes again?"

I blushed again… I couldn't help it, especially since I was… I had been all week.

"No."

He gave me a grin that said plainly that he didn't believe it.

"So… Saturday?"

"No!"

"I could call in that favor… you owe me, remember? For not handing you over to the authorities."

"You could, but you won't… you want to hold that over my head as long as possible, just to make me sweat."

He stood, flicking his wand, and magicking his shoes back onto his feet. "You think you know me so well, don't you Granger? Well, you're right, I'm not going to call in my favor now, but I'm not going to hold it over your head forever. I have something particular in mind for that favor, and now isn't the time for me to ask it…" another flick of his wand, and his cloak came flying off the coat hangar, and settled around his shoulders, "and if you refuse to work Saturday, I'll just find someone who will." He turned his back to me, and headed for the door.

I fought back the sudden, inexplicable urge to stop him from leaving, but as his hand closed on the door knob, I shot out of my seat.

"Malfoy," it came out strangled, and odd sounding even to my ears.

He paused for a moment, then cast a sly glance over his shoulder, "good evening, Granger." And with that, he was gone.

"Good riddance!" I shouted, to the closed door, and tried to make myself believe it.

Blame it on the midterms… I'm really sorry that this chapter was so long in coming, and you'd think that for the extra THREE WEEK wait, I'd have given you guys something spectacular, but I'd have to say this chapter certainly wasn't that. It was passable, though, and it was all I could eak out with my creative juices being poured into school.

More fics that aren't getting the play they deserve:

Madame plot bunnie's pawn is a fic that shows definite promise

Paradoxical's one shot, devil's prayer,

Neuri's Something Old is another one shot. Very well written, and humorous as well as touching. Definitely worth a look to everyone who missed it the first time

On the darker (and definitely R-rated side) there's Libbs twisted obsession.

There were quite a few others, but I can't find them, and I've developed a nasty habit of not writing them down…

Plastraa, thanks for nagging (although, it wasn't really nagging) and anyone who hasn't read Draco's Inheritance yet needs read it right now. Funny beyond belief…

Of course, I'm still a big advocate of Gravidy's God of the Lost, and I'm more impressed with it every time I read it, and I still like Phantasm's the Secret Keeper, even if she's not updating (I don't really have any room to talk)

Alright, hopefully, I'll be able to get another chapter out soon… I've only got one major project on the horizon, so it's do-able.

Feedback of all sorts is welcomed with open arms!

G'night folks.

What the hell was happening to me, I wondered. And would I be able to tell Harry and Ron about it tonight?