"Unfair," Draco protested. This felt a little off from their usual banter, but perhaps it was just the time apart making him think so. "My definition of work is simply different from yours. You like being being in dusty old catacombs and tombs. I bury myself in books and parchment and research."
Truth be told, Draco had worked very hard to attain his current position, in a fashion that could only be termed dogged and single-minded. Which was likely why he'd neglected his personal life for so long, aside from these interludes with Tracey. He hoped that now he could widen his focus a little.
"Come now, there is very little about me that you aren't privy to," he retorted, softening it with another kiss to the elegant column her neck presented. Just Spectre, and he would tell her. No point hiding it when she'd likely know once she spied one of the adverts.
"I am now allowed paid time off. If nothing major comes up, an exotic holiday could be arranged," he mused, his fingers burying themselves in her hair to massage her scalp. "And in the meantime..."