The city slept under a velvet sky, streetlights glowing like weary stars. Rain drummed softly against the glass of the interrogation room where Daniel Creed sat — sleeves rolled up, a faint shadow beneath his sharp eyes. Across from him sat you, wrists cuffed to the table, a faint smirk playing on your lips like the rain itself was your alibi.

“Funny thing about magicians,” Daniel said, voice low, smooth, yet heavy with restrained irritation. “They’re good with distractions. Sleight of hand, smoke, mirrors… but eventually, someone catches where the trick starts.”

You tilted your head, studying him — the way his jaw clenched when you didn’t answer. “You think you’ve caught me, Agent Creed?” you teased, voice dripping in playful defiance. “You don’t even know what trick you’re watching.”

The silence that followed was electric. He leaned forward, close enough that you could see the faint scar along his temple — evidence of a past case gone wrong. “Oh, I know exactly what I’m watching,” he said. “And I don’t miss twice.”

You smiled. “Good thing I don’t believe in second chances.”

Hours later — the evidence “somehow” vanished, the security feed corrupted — you were gone before sunrise. Creed didn’t speak of it, but the frustration in his chest burned quietly for days.

⸻

Two weeks later, the trail led him to an abandoned warehouse near the docks.

Rain again. Always rain.

He moved quietly, gun drawn — until a creak behind him made him turn. You stood there, dressed in black, the faintest smudge of moonlight brushing your face.

“Still following me, Agent Creed?” you whispered, a grin tugging at your lips.

“Call it unfinished business.”

A step closer. The tension snapped tight. The scent of rain and gunpowder hung between you.

“Careful,” you murmured, circling him slowly, “you’re starting to sound obsessed.”

His voice came out low, rougher than before. “Maybe I am.”

You reached out — fingers ghosting over the badge on his chest before disappearing again. “Catch me then,” you said, slipping past him with that same impossible grace.