Fiction Roses To Remember Part Three

Title: Roses To Remember (Part 3 of 4)
Author: Restive Nature (aka Bavite)
Rated- PG-13 for some mild language
Disclaimer: All recognizable characters and settings belong to either Rowling or Whedon. *sigh*
Summary- Draco’s a man on a mission.
Spoilers- Season 7 of Buffy, Season 4 of Angel. (Pretty much season 5 hasn’t happened yet.) (Eep, forgot this before!) For HP- set six years after OoTP. (Just so Willow isn’t cradle-robbing)
Distribution: TtH, VSS and my Yahoo group






"Oh, you’re having me on!" Draco laughed. "You can’t honestly tell me that Xander isn’t loving being surrounded by all these women."



"Well, at first he did," Willow chuckled along with him. She drew up the leg that had been dangling off the edge of the bed. While under the pretense of settling herself, cross-legged, she studied the man across from her. He was leaning against the headboard, fairly relaxed. Willow had the impression that he didn’t often relax. "See, Xander lived with all us girls for a while, so he got quite the wake-up call."



"How so?" Draco was still amused by the various stories Willow had shared about her friends. Even knowing that she was holding something back, she had to be, there were still plenty of tales of mayhem in the form of public embarrassment. He’d shared a few of his own; he was already that comfortable with her. Naturally, he’d left out the nature of the school and how the "pranks" were accomplished. But she got the idea. He recognized the hesitation in her voice because it mirrored his own. But he made no outward sign of interest in pushing her. He knew it to be the quickest way for her to be turned off opening up to him.



"Well," Willow began her answer, a gleam in her eye. "he went from being the fairly typical, oblivious male to the…" she paused, trying to think of a phrasing that wouldn’t embarrass either of them. "Well, let’s just say that the girls began to forget that he was even there and he got a little too much information." She smiled as he cracked up again. What she didn’t realize that living at Hogwart’s was a similar situation. He’d lost count of the number of "private, girly" conversations he and his friends had walked in on in the Slytherin common room. It happened every year, until the first years smartened up enough to take their conversations to their dormitories.



He leaned forward, his hand reaching for the last sandwich, just as Willow began to as well. Their fingers bumped, in mid air, and Draco snatched his hand back hurriedly, startled by the little jolt of electricity that passed between them. "What the bloody hell was that?" he murmured, shocked.



"Um, static electricity?" Willow offered swiftly, her mind whirling. She’d never had that happen before, just from random touch. It had been a long while since her magic spontaneously combusted like that. Draco raised his eyebrows and she giggled nervously. "I guess this means we have a spark between us."



"I guess we do," he smiled slowly, almost feral. He looked down at their hands, then beyond them to the plate. "But please, go ahead," he added, gesturing to the sandwich.



"Geez Draco," Willow sighed good-naturedly as she picked up the peanut butter and banana sandwich that Dawn had prepared and broke it apart, "did no one teach you to share?"



"As an only child, it didn’t seem like an imperative lesson," he smirked, accepting the food from her. She scoffed at him.



"That’s no excuse!"



"And you would know how?"



"Hey, you don’t hold the patent on only childness you know," she huffed, trying to look put out, but failing miserably.



"Ah, something we have in common," Draco nodded thoughtfully as he chewed. "That and the belief that your friend is too hormonal for his own good."



It was amazing how easily they had fell into conversation, and kept falling. There were no awkward moments, stilted words or uncomfortable pauses. Even when Dawn had arrived with the tray of food, they’d barely paused to express appreciation to the girl. Dawn had given Willow a speculative look. Most likely because of the lively flush of Willow’s cheeks and had dashed off again, making Draco wonder if the teenager ever slowed down. Since then, as they ate, they’d covered a wide range of topics in general. Both knew, sensed that the other was holding something back. It was only natural if one thought about it, as they’d only just met.



They’d continued to talk the topic moving on to Draco’s home and Willow sharing that she’d been in England the year before. They continued to discover each others likes and dislikes, the things they had in common, places they’d been, what their early childhood had been like. And when Willow had discovered that he’d never had an extremely large, raucous birthday party, she insisted that he attend hers. Draco was ridiculously pleased to be included so easily.



It would certainly give him the chance to get to know Willow even better. ‘Wait, where did that thought come from?’ Draco asked himself quickly, forcibly reminding himself of the true reason that he was there. Willow was just one aspect of the whole picture. ‘And a very nice aspect she is,’ his mind drawled naughtily. He shook his head slightly.



Despite what rumors Pansy Parkinson had started about him, Draco had never played fast and loose in the sex department. One-night stands were for the most part unfulfilling. Not to mention something of a hassle in terms of health. One never knew what one was getting into; the other’s past possibly haunting one in the future. So, while he’d had his share of liaisons, Draco had always made sure that both parties were going into it with both eyes open. In other words, no romantic entanglements.



Finally, the sun had begun to set. Willow rolled over onto her back. She and Draco had been lying on the bed, crosswise, still chatting. She held up her arm, checking the time on her watch. "Oh my Goddess!" she exclaimed, realizing how late it was getting. "I need to get changed." She pushed herself up from the bed, then turned to look at where her new friend was still reclining. "Are you sure you want to come? I mean it’s going to be pretty silly. Just a bunch of teenagers for the most part letting off some steam."



"I’m game if you are," Draco reassured her. "Are you still game?"



"Well, you know," Willow shrugged, "the girls just wanna have fun." Her eyes grew large and she buried her face in her hands. "Did I actually say that?"



Draco watched as the flush of her cheeks grew into a healthy stain of red. He cocked his head to the side, reviewing her statement. What was it, some muggle cultural reference? "Well, you did," he confirmed. "Although it completely escapes me."



"Guessing Cyndi Lauper wasn’t all that big in England," Willow chuckled.



"Not particularly," Draco shrugged, the name given still meaning nothing to him.



"Well, it’s still better than the ‘I Touch Myself’ incident," she mumbled. Her mouth dropped open as she realized she’d said it out loud. And that he’d heard her.



"What’s this then?" he drawled, barely believing his ears.



"N-nothing," Willow stammered, her eyes fixed on his amused face.



"Oh come now Willow," he smirked, pulling himself to a stand. He advanced on her, slowly, prepared to worm this new story out of her. But she was too quick for him. She whirled around and ran for the door.



"I have to change!" she squealed as she wrenched the door open. Only to run into a solid wall of Vampiric flesh. "Oh! Angel, hi! Sorry, didn’t mean to bump into you."



"It’s okay Willow," the newcomer growled. The redhead studied him for a moment.



"You just talked to Buffy, didn’t you?" she sighed. She didn’t need his nod for confirmation. She could see the storm brewing beyond the normal anguish that occurred when those two were together.



"Among other things," he sighed. He looked past her to Draco. "But Wes said I needed to talk to Malfoy here."



"Okay," Willow nodded sadly. Even long years of accepting that this was the way things were, it still broke her heart a little. She turned back to Draco. "See you in a bit." Draco nodded as she slipped past the large man. They studied each other, the silence growing to unbearable awkwardness. Finally, Draco stepped forward, his hand held out. The other man just stared at it.



"Who are you?" he demanded bluntly. Draco jerked a little at the abruptness of the question and the hostility behind it. He should have known that there would have been someone showing a tad bit of vigilance.



"I thought Mr. Wyndam-Pryce told you," Draco felt it best to ease into things with this one. Something was very off-putting about the man. There was a cold, hard veneer to his face that bespoke of more pain and wariness than Draco could imagine acquiring in five lifetimes, let alone one. "I am Draco Malfoy."



"Why are you here?"



"Here in LA, or this hotel?" he hedged.



"Either."



"I’m in LA to conclude a long ago contract my father had," Draco lied easily. Although only partially so. "And as to this hotel, my grandparents spoke often of it in my childhood. They’d stayed here many years go and my grandfather always wished to return. I was curious."



"How long?" Angel demanded, his eyes narrowing even more.



"How long is my business trip?" Draco tried playing dumb. He’d seen where the other man’s interest lay.



"How long ago did they stay here?" Angel demanded. He studied Draco, as if searching for something, a hidden clue.



"I believe it was in the forties’," he offered casually, not about to let on that he was studying Angel just as intently. He repressed a small shudder of fear as the man took a step forward.



"And your business?"



"Is my own," Draco sneered. He’d about had enough of the man’s attitude. It was all well and good to be on guard, but he honestly thought that the amount of suspicion the other man was giving off would lead to ulcers, if not an early grave.



"Humor me," Angel growled, taking another step forward. Something flashed in his eyes and it took most of Draco’s considerable willpower not to step back.



"I will be meeting with Wolfram and Hart about a contract my father concluded with them," he began. Only to be cut off by suddenly flying through the air to be slammed up against the far wall, Angel’s arm cutting off his oxygen supply.



"I was wondering when you’d show up," Angel growled, his features shifting to game face. Draco gasped, partly in effort to breathe, partly from fear as he realized why he’d felt such coldness from the being before him. Draco’s mind whirled as realization struck him. The man was not Angel, owner of Angel Investigations, and not a man. He was the Vampire Angelus. The name echoed in Draco’s mind. He cursed himself a fool for not making the connection. But he’d had no idea. The last his textbooks had mentioned, Angelus had been cursed by a gypsy clan and had disappeared from Europe. The last thought to flow through his increasingly numb mind was ‘where the bloody hell is a wand when you need one?’



"Draco!" a feminine, vaguely familiar shriek caught his attention. With a suddenness that jolted through his body, he was released. He slid down the wall where Angelus had suspended him in a death grip to see the Vampire flying backwards. He gasped for breath, rubbing his throat with one hand, while the other scrabbled for the wand in his back pocket. But there, in the doorway was his own angel.



Willow had heard the thump from Draco’s room, and knowing Angel’s temper after run ins with Buffy, had worried instantly. She’d dashed in to see Angel choking the Englishman. She didn’t stop to consider her reaction, only knowing that she had to stop him from doing something he’d regret. She reacted with gut instinct, using her mostly dormant until needed power to simply separate Angel from the other man. She rushed to stand between the two, somehow registering that Angel was the bigger threat at the moment and so not turning her back to him.

"What’s the matter with you Angel?" she yelled as he rolled over and stood.



"He’s a spy!" he yelled right back, gesturing to Draco. The blonde’s eyes went wide as he sucked in air sharply. How the hell had he figured it out? "For Wolfram & Hart!" the Vampire clarified at Willow’s dumbfounded expression. Draco exhaled a sigh of relief. Then narrowed his eyes. No wonder this Vampire had survived as long as he had, if he was always so mistrusting of those around him.



But while the only threat to Draco was for his personal safety and he was now on guard, it was the mistrust now in Willow’s eyes that cut through him. He thrust away from the wall, stalking to the smaller bag he’d brought with him. His movements were harsh, yanking open the side zipper to extract a file. Many months ago, he’d had the considerable task of going through his father’s business dealings, something his mother had kept putting off after Lucius’ death. He’d barely noticed the communications from the law office, aside from liking their name. But at this crucial time, he’d remembered the letterhead stating the various offices around the world, with one in LA. He’d charmed the letter, making it so that it appeared to have come from the LA office, therefore offering at least a modicum of proof to his cover story.

He stalked back to Angel, thrusting the file into his hands. "My father died and my mother was concerned by a clause in the agreement. After dickering around at the London firm, I decided it best to come straight to the source and deal with this." Angel eyed him speculatively, then slowly opened the folder. There before him was the now familiar letterhead. He sighed, his features sliding back to his human façade, but still not completely trusting this man. Wolfram and Hart had been the bane of the last four years of his life. And even though he was now at the helm, he’d been wondering what trick the senior partners might pull to throw him off balance. He snapped the folder shut and handed it back to Draco.



"I suppose you’d like me to take my bags and leave then?" Draco sneered. If worse came to worse, he’d leave. It wouldn’t be easy as hoped to accomplish his objective. But initial contact had been made. He could always play upon that.



"No, you can stay," Angel offered monotonously. "A smart man keeps his friends close…"



"And his enemies closer," Draco finished for him. He sighed and ran a hand through his short locks. "I’m not your enemy, but I understand." Angel nodded once and departed, as silently as he usually did.



"I’m so sorry Draco," Willow murmured, unable to meet his eyes. For years, they’d been hearing about the evil law firm, so her mistrust had some basis. But she felt a heel for giving in to it so quickly. And just as disconcerting, the fact that she’d used her magic to help him. She had no idea what he’d think of that.



"It’s all right," he reached out to pat her on the shoulder. She smiled up at him hesitantly. "That was quite a display. How did you manage to get him off me?" He had a fairly good idea, but needed to hear her say it to confirm his suspicions.



"Well," she swallowed nervously. She looked up at his face, realizing suddenly that over the last few hours, he’d made no judgments about her or her life. Maybe this would be the same way. After all, once she’d learned to accept the things that made her different, she’d also learned that it was useless to hide what she was. Useless to run away from it. "I’m a witch."



"A witch?" he asked, trying again for disbelieving. "Really? I’m afraid I-!"



"Don’t believe me?" she asked breathlessly. "Oh Goddess, I knew it!" she moaned, burying her face in her hands. Draco smiled softly, reaching out to tilt her chin up with his finger.



"I believe," he chuckled. "How could I not after what you just did?" She nodded, a little unsure still. "I was going to say, that I don’t see that as a problem. As long as you, say, don’t use it on me." She laughed, the tension of the moment broken by his utter acceptance and teasing.



"As long as you don’t give me reason to," she warned playfully.



"Heaven forbid," he moaned, forcing a shudder.



"And about Angel," she whispered, fiddling her fingers nervously.



"He’s a Vampire," Draco spoke for her. "I noticed that."



"You know?" her eyebrows shot up. Draco smirked. "About Vampires I mean?"



"I was aware of them, yes," he offered, the rubbed his throat. "Although that was the first run-in I’d ever had."



"You’re not scared of him?" she asked, her confusion mounting. She was still so used to the utter ignorance displayed by the majority of the population in Sunnydale.



"Well," Draco frowned, wondering how to explain this. "You seem to be okay with it, and I think I trust your judgement." He paused to give her a look of appeal. "Besides, if he tries to, oh, I don’t know, suck my blood, you’ll protect me, won’t you?" She giggled and nodded. He stepped back a little and took in her attire. "Well, I must say, you look stunning." And she did, the simple black sheath dress of velvet conforming all the way down her body to swirl gracefully around her ankles. Her arms were bare and he could see the little hairs on her arm standing up as a shiver ran through her.



"I still need my shoes," she grinned, poking out one unclad foot. "And to do my hair."



"Well, while you do that, I’ll shower and change," he decided, "and meet you in say, twenty minutes?" She nodded and he gently nudged her towards the door. "And Willow? Leave your hair down. It looks absolutely lovely that way." Her hand flew to the disheveled mess, trying to decide if he was teasing or not.



*****



In the prescribed twenty minutes, Draco was ready and standing outside the door to her room. He’d slicked his hair back in its usual manner, and dressed in black dress slacks and an ice blue dress shirt that his mother had chosen for him. In his hand, he held a little surprise for the birthday girl. He shifted around to where he could knock. The door swung open and he suddenly forgot his body's need for breath.



"Oh Draco," Willow sighed softly in appreciation. "Are those for me?" Draco looked down stupidly. Oh yes, the flowers. He held them out to her and she took the vase from him. "Oh, I love peach roses," she grinned happily, stepping back to let him in. She held the bouquet up to her face and breathed in the scent, not realizing what her simple gesture of appreciation was doing to his libido.



"T-there’s one there for every day I hope to see you," he managed to stammer hoarsely. She glanced up in surprise, then quickly counted.



"Twenty-eight?" she asked, waiting for him to confirm. He nodded.



"Four weeks," he grinned, reaching out to draw a finger down the side of her cheek. "Somehow it doesn’t seem long enough."



"Then we’ll just have to make the most of every day," she decided firmly. She set the vase on the dresser, angling the vanity mirror to multiply the appearance. It seemed as if the whole dresser was filled with roses. She leaned over to inhale the fragrance once more.



"Well," Draco cleared his throat, holding out his arm. "Shall we go?"



"Yup," Willow giggled as she took his arm. "Let’s get this party started!"



He escorted her towards the stairs. "You do know that you’re friends are going to be disappointed that you’re all dressed up for an event of which you were to have no knowledge."



"They’ll deal," Willow replied smugly. "But what I’m wondering…"



"Yes?"



"When on earth did you have time to get me flowers?"



"Ah, I have my ways Willow," he teased, not ready to trust his secret to her yet. And only because telling her meant telling everyone else as well.



"Draco!" she protested. He stopped and moved his hand to grasp hers gently.



"How about I tell you later?" he teased. She tilted her head, then nodded. "On one condition."



"What’s that?" she asked suspiciously.



"That you have dinner with me tomorrow night," he trapped her neatly. She rolled her eyes then nodded. He for once didn’t have to fake the pleasure that turned the corners of his mouth up. Because of course, there would always be a later. He turned once more to the head of the stairs. "Well, are you ready?"



"All set," she nodded.



"Then let’s go."




RtR- Part Four