2

Having made the promise that he was interesting to Hermione, Draco now had a self-professed twenty seconds to live up to it. Smiling with wicked amusement, Draco pulled a napkin towards him as Hermione sipped her coffee, drawing a pen out of his pocket and quickly sketching a puzzle on it, then turned the napkin over and met her eyes once more.

"Find me when you solve it," he purred, challenge clear in his voice, and Hermione scoffed.

"I'm supposed to be impressed by a maze?" she said, and made to turn her back on him, flipping her curly hair over one shoulder. Draco, however, was unperturbed, and tapped the napkin with a fingernail as his smile grew. "Come now," he chuckled, "A detective such as yourself doesn't think she can work out the answer?"

5…4…3…2…

Hermione turned back, obviously not wanting to give in, but her eyes fixated on the puzzle, on Draco's hands, as if wondering what was hidden beneath. Draco's smile grew even more.

"Always a pleasure," he purred, sliding from his seat and giving Hermione a bow. "I hope to hear from you soon."

Sauntering from the shop, Draco gave one last glance back at Hermione. She had her eyes narrowed at him through the window, as if trying to work something out. Draco gave her a cocky little wave and strolled away, very close to whistling a tune.

…

Though Draco perhaps gave off the air and appearance of being a wealthy socialite, with nothing to do all day but look fashionable and lounge around eating bon-bons, the reality was quite the opposite. His other life consumed him, filling both the waking and sleeping hours in a delicious manner that bordered on obsessive.

Having learned that he needed to practice more upon the safe that they were using, Draco decided that he needed to test everything. Approaching buildings, dealing with security (video, guards, alarms – anything), unlocking safes, planning escape routes, dealing with unexpected circumstances. He'd gotten sloppy in the last month – his thefts had been too simple, too easy. He hadn't built his name on easy heists, and now he had to remember to go back to the basics, to be vigilant, to be careful and not cocky.

Thus, he applied himself to his 'research' with the enthusiasm of a student cramming for finals, though rather more calmly. He 'tested' three more safes, all of the same make, interspersing them with various others to keep any enterprising officers off his trail.

He didn't encounter Hermione on a job until his fourth safe, which was the same make and model as the one that housed his coveted necklace. He'd been meticulous about planning his exit and entry routes, and wanting to see how long it took him to crack the safe, he'd brought a stopwatch. Draco hadn't expected to see anyone, but once he finally opened the safe (his time was getting better, but it wasn't good enough), some kind of catch underneath the custom tiara inside (honestly, who commissioned tiaras?) had sent out a covert signal to the nearest police department. Draco had managed to settle his backpack on his shoulders and was halfway out the window when Hermione appeared in the doorway again, giving him a major sense of déjà vu.

"We have to stop meeting like this," he purred with the deepest amusement, heart dancing in his chest as she pulled a gun on him once more. Casually seated on the sill, one leg dangling over the edge, Draco could have been relaxing and reading a book. His posture conveyed utter carelessness, and his head was lolling at an angle that the most insouciant flirts could only hope to achieve. "I might begin to think you're interested in me."

"I'm more interested in what you have between your shoulder blades," Hermione said blandly, brown eyes pinning Draco in the chest as if she could see right through him to the gems beyond. He lifted an elegant hand, twirling the stopwatch between his fingers, and watched her eyes move to it before drawling, "A spine?"

The eyebrow lifted in a manner that was becoming increasingly familiar to Draco. "Well, you might break it if you fell out the window," Hermione considered as she took a step into the room, an officer who Draco didn't care to take note of (beyond the sleek ponytail of red hair and matching red lips) behind her. "What a pity that would be."

"Hermione, why are you talking to this thief?" demanded the redhead. "Get off the window ledge, scum!"

"So harsh," Draco said, pressing a hand to his chest as if wounded. "I'm hurt. But, if you insist," he said, standing to balance on the windowsill, "I suppose I will have to exchange barbs with you another time."

Draco bowed to both women, ignoring the redhead's cry of 'freeze!' (along with a rather impolite word), and stepped backwards off the ledge, allowing his body to fall until he hit the padded balcony below. A head of curly brown hair poked out the window posthaste, but Draco was already long gone - tiara and all.

…

He looked good in a crown, Draco mused as he toyed with the stolen tiara, which was now artfully arranged on his hair, at a rakish, carless angle that complimented the half-open silk dressing gown and lounge pants he'd changed into. Perhaps, one day, he'd try his hand at the crown jewels – just to try them on. Pondering this idea, Draco padded to his television, still wearing the tiara, and flicked it on to see if he'd made the news.

He had – and so, it appeared, had Hermione. 'Detective Granger' scrolled across the screen as her intent face peered out at him, and he turned the volume up to her.

"It is clear to me that the recent rash of thefts is the work of one man, which the many may know by the moniker 'The Dragon'. Though it as of yet undetermined why he has increased the pacing of his acts of larceny, we do have some leads."

Draco cocked his head, intrigued, and murmured "do go on," to the television.

"The Dragon appears to be targeting wealthy households and has a preference for a specific type of safe. If you fall into this category, you may want to ramp up your security, as he may be targeting them for a specific reason. If you are concerned, please call your local station for more details and suggestions on how to protect your valuables."

Hermione turned the microphone over to someone else, and Draco turned off the television, pondering this new development. He should have been frustrated that Hermione seemed to have discovered part of his plan, but he wasn't. He was merely intrigued.

"Well done," he settled on telling the dark screen, hand going up to his tiara without thought. She might be good at her job, Draco mused as he headed to bed, but he was better.

In fact, he rather looked forward to challenging her again.

…

Returning to the coffee shop once more, hope an unacknowledged weight in his throat, Draco headed up to the counter to order something spontaneous, then settled in by the window, exactly across from where Hermione had been last time. Absorbed in the newspaper account of his recent rash of thefts, Draco looked up as his name was called and went to collect his coffee.

To his amusement, the sleeve on the coffee cup had been defaced – not with a misspelling of his name, but with the puzzle he had presented Hermione on their last meeting… solved.

Grin curling up his lips, Draco lifted his gaze across the café to see Hermione, seated on a tall stool, with a faint smile on her lips that reminded Draco of the cat who'd gotten the canary. Accepting his coffee, he sauntered over to her, nearly burning his tongue in the process.

"Too easy for you?" he questioned, sliding onto a seat next to her with ease. Hermione made a dismissive noise, but her face was anything but – it was intent, gaze fixated on his face as if there were answers to be found there. Draco grinned into his coffee cup and leaned in. "Do you need more of a challenge?" he whispered, breath ghosting across the space between them, and Hermione pursed her lips.

"I think it's my turn to challenge you," she remarked, nails tapping on the lid of her own drink. Today they were unmanicured, practical, though her lips were still painted a brilliant red. "If you think you can handle it."

Delighted with this turn of events, Draco hummed a noise of acquiescence, raising an eyebrow expectantly. Hermione let out a huff of air and held out one hand, expectantly. It took Draco a moment to realize that she wanted his hand, and he slid his palm over hers intimately, letting skin glide across skin at a glacial pace. She showed no sign of being affected, merely turned his hand over and pulled a pen out of her hair to write a series of numbers on his palm with no clear spacing or order.

"Decrypt this," she told him, folding his fingers over the string of numbers, "And maybe you'll be worth my time."

Hermione then stood to go, taking her coffee with her. Draco cocked an eyebrow, keeping his hand as she'd left it: palm up, fingers curled over. "It's not your phone number, is it?" he called, but Hermione gave him no response other than a backwards wave and a decided sway to her walk. Draco growled low in his throat, not angry but almost appreciative, possessive.

Worth her time, indeed.

…

Just to tweak Hermione's tail, Draco did the final 'safe test' the very same night. It was ridiculously easy, despite the warning that Hermione had given… but then, people always thought that things would happen to "someone else". He'd picked the three locks, and sauntered in the front door, making his way to the safe with the practiced ease of someone walking to the grocery store.

He even broke his record for time.

However, this time, Hermione didn't catch him in the act of escaping – no, Draco was long gone. There were only so many times he could fall out of windows, after all. No, this time Draco had left Hermione a message; six words that he'd typed out and printed for free at a local library.

Catch me if you can, Detective.

…

A/N:

This is supposed to be my Boxing Day update, though it's past midnight for me as I post this. Oh well. It still happened! Hopefully the story still interests you. It may seem like slow build up, but I promise exciting things in the future!

Cheers,

Isefyr