When Draco found Hermione sitting in the lobby of his casino in a gold chiffon dress and sandals, he could hardly believe it. He assumed she would stand him up, but there she was. And with his heart suddenly lodged in his throat, he started to wish she wouldn't have showed. If anyone ever found out... it could ruin things for both of them. But when she turned and smiled at him, Draco couldn't care less.

They exchanged awkward pleasantries then she followed him through the maze of a casino and into the parking garage. Without so much as two words to each other, they weaved around the SUVs and mini vans until they came to a sleek silver sports car with tinted windows and a body you could see your reflection in.

He was so proud of that car.

Draco opened the passenger side door. "Get in."

Hermione's eyes narrowed. "In what?"

"The car."

She looked unconvinced. "That's a Ferrari."

"Why, yes it is." He grinned. Draco Malfoy had many cars but this one was his favorite. At least of the legal non-flying type. There were times he missed that red Aston Martin he had back home.

"Who's car is this?" she asked, her voice still skeptical.

"Mine, Granger."

"You know how to drive?"

"I'm actually very good at it. Now get in."

With that, Hermione sighed and slid quickly into the passenger seat. Draco popped open the driver's door and sat down, loving the smell of the fresh leather. The smell of freedom.

He drove through the Vegas traffic, past the shining hotels, and the stumbling tourists. He turned twenty-one two years ago and had spent most of his time here since then. Even though it was busy and packed with muggles, there was something about it that felt like home. More like home than Malfoy Manor did anyway.

Draco turned on a back street and weaved his way out of town and into the fading sunset sky that painted its colors over the desert. Hermione looked over her shoulder, her hair swinging, giving Draco a whiff of her sweet perfume. His stomach twitched and he tried to ignore the sensation.

"I thought we were going to dinner."

"We are... sort of."

"Where?" she asked, arms crossed.

Draco sighed. "Can't you just enjoy the surprise?"

"No. For all I know you're taking me out to the desert to kill me."

"I own a Las Vegas casino. I have a back room and big burly guys with brass knuckles who do that."

Draco's eyes flashed to her, a smile tugging at his lips. Hermione rolled her eyes. "What is this?" she asked.

Draco turned his Ferrari under the less-than-impressive lights of the Shell station at the turn in the road. He parked the car in front of the convenience store, his headlights shining against the window.

"The last gas station for two hundred miles," said Draco, a hint of excitement in his voice. He loved that feeling of being in the middle of nowhere where anything could happen, where anything could be true.

Hermione stepped out of the Ferrari as Draco did. The desert wind twisted her hair as she chewed on her lip, looking out at the endless dry flatts. "Are you taking me coyote hunting?"

"No. But that's a good date idea," he joked.

"If you're dating Paul Bunyon," she whispered, but Draco could hear her. He had no idea she had such a good sense of humor.

Draco breathed in the familiar stale scent of the gas station. He came here often when he wanted to get away from the chaos of the Las Vegas strip and enjoy the fresh dry air of the nearby desert. Draco turned, smirking at Hermione. They were both overdressed for the gas station. Her in her dress and he in his black suit and thin black tie. But then again he almost always wore a suit.

"Get whatever you want," said Draco.

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "At the gas station."

Wanting to make Hermione laugh, he picked up the nearest item, a box of some sort of cake-like snack. "They have beef jerky and something called a ho-ho, and Slurpees. I'm getting a Slurpee. You want a Slurpee, Granger?" Draco slid across the tile floor to the Slurpee machine. The Slurpee was one muggle invention he could get behind.

Hermione's mouth was agape. "Uh. Sure."

Smirking proudly, he made a super-sized cherry slurpee and grabbed two straws. He bought those strange ho-ho things, a bag of beef jerky, chips and a couple of chocolate bars.

Mother would kill me if she knew this is what I was eating for dinner.

Hermione just stood there, looking dumbstruck, speechless. An unusual but good look on her. Draco pulled out his wallet and paid the thin, balding man behind the counter. Draco knew him well. He was working there almost every time Draco stopped.

"Thank you, Mr. Malfoy," said the man.

"Have an excellent evening, Raul." Draco nodded, his grey eyes flashing to Hermione as he grabbed the plastic bag of food and handed Hermione the Slurpee. Draco had never taken any of his other dates into the desert. That was his place to be alone, to shoot charms into the blackness of evening, into nothingness and know he'd never be found out. But when he went to make a reservation for tonights dinner, he couldn't stop thinking about what Hermione would like, windswept, at the top of his favorite plateau.

"I had no idea this is what you meant by dinner," said Hermione taking a tentative sip of the liquid. The cherry flavoring made her lips even redder. Draco felt the strangest urge to lick the color away.

He swallowed. "Disappointed?"

As she sat back down in the passenger seat, Hermione let out a small, uncertain laugh. "Surprisingly, I'm not."

Thanks for reading. Please review. I'm planning for short chapters updated often for this fic so I hope that works. Anyway, thanks again!