Fiction Roses To Remember Part Two

Title: Roses To Remember (Part 2 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.)
Distribution: TtH, VSS and my Yahoo group




"I beg your pardon?" Draco’s eyes widened.



"Nothing, nothing," Xander waved him off. "Just referring to the fact that we’re surrounded by ladies."



"Yes," Draco sneered, "I can see that." At the other man’s raised eyebrow, Draco realized his mistake and hastily backpedaled. He was here to get friendly and discover information. Not teach them why he’d been called the Prince of Slytherin. "Sorry. I heard her," he gestured with his chin towards Buffy, "scream and I thought she was in danger. And then she wasn’t and this wasn’t at all what I was expecting and I dropped my bags, which have probably been stolen by some homeless person who won’t appreciate the stylishness of my clothes, which by the way came from-!"



"He’s babbling," the one called Xander grinned The blonde rolled her eyes.



"I do not babble!" Draco erupted. This was all becoming too much. He’d expected things to go smoothly, as they usually did for him. He was supposed to meet the small group of people that led to the downfall of the Hellmouth, get the information and get out.



"Wow!" Xander chuckled. "From zero to snark in two point oh seconds. That’s pretty good." He turned once more to the girl. "What do you think Buff? Is he like, schizophrenic?"



She shook her head, one strand of wet hair plastered to her cheek. "That’s when you hear voices."



"Well then what am I thinking of?" he furrowed his brow in a mock expression of concentration.



"M.P.D," she responded dryly.



"Must Put Down?" he shook his head. "Nah, I don’t think that’s it. I mean, sure I’ll take a crack at the withering commentary styling a la the Summers women, but I’m more of the crack a joke at his expense kind of guy"



"No Xander," the blonde giggled. "Multiple person disorder. And I don’t think babble is a symptom."



"Well it could be," he laughed. "I mean, look at Willow, she’s-!"



"Xander!" her tone was warning, yet playful.



Draco couldn’t help but feel as if he were watching a highly paced Quidditch match, trying to keep an eye on the quaffle that was volleying between the two at such a high speed that he felt dizzy. Finally he had to put in his two pounds. "Are you all on drugs?" he demanded, taking in their amused expressions.



"Not that we’re aware of," Buffy winked at him. He really was kind of cute, all sputtery and seething-like. Xander, catching the look in his friend’s gleaming eyes, decided that enough was enough.



"So, what can we do you for?" he asked swiftly, causing the blonde male’s penetrating gaze to focus on him. Which, while kind of scary in a Psycho way, was good in that he’d successfully distracted him from the Buffster.



"I beg your pardon?" Draco asked again. This was becoming more of a nightmare than he’d imagined it would be just a few short hours ago in the relative comfort of his room in London.



"The reason you’re here?" Xander clarified.



"Oh, right, yes," Draco felt a frision of relief. Finally, they were getting on to the reason he’d come here. "Could I speak to the person in charge, please?"



"That’d be me?" Buffy pointed to herself with one hand, then went back to wringing dry her mass of hair. Draco goggled at her once more.



"You are the proprietor of this hotel?"



"Huh?" she grimaced, then thought his words through. "Oh, no, not that." She looked thoughtful a moment. "Let me go get Wes."



"Thank you," Draco didn’t know which was greater at the moment, his relief that she was taking her wet self from his presence, or the hope that he’d be able to talk to someone sane.



"Why don’t we go get your bags," Xander suggested. Draco looked puzzled for a moment. "Your bags. You said you dropped them. Wouldn’t want any of your stylish clothing to be stolen."



"Indeed!"



They hurried back to the main gate and Draco let out a whispered sigh of relief when he caught sight of both bags. Not that he’d had to spend a large amount of money to acquire the essentials packed within. But how on earth would he manage without them? It wasn’t as if he could magically produce what he needed with all these people milling about.



The return trip was short, of course. And Draco searched out whoever the operator of the hotel was supposed to be immediately. He was sure that it hadn’t been the blonde, Buffy, that he’d talked to earlier over the telephone. His eyes picked out two new people when they returned to the lobby. They came forward and the greeting from the woman let him know that she was the one he’d spoken with. Her softly accented voice was familiar in this land of strangeness.



"Mr. Malfoy?" the man asked. Draco nodded, grateful to hear the familiar tones of his homeland.



"Yes," he replied, extending his hand. The man took it.



"Wesley Wyndham-Pryce," the other man offered. They shook hands and the other Brit pulled back a little. He ran a comforting hand over the girl’s shoulder as she winced. "I’m afraid there’s been a misunderstanding."



"Has there?" Draco asked sharply. So now it began. He knew this moment would come, as he was perfectly aware that the Hyperion was not being used for its original purpose. This was where hopefully, his natural arrogance would pay off.



"Yes," Wesley continued. "You see, we do operate a business here, or we did. We are currently moving locations as we speak. But we’ve not operated a hotel at all here. We are an Investigation firm."



"And you are investigating these young ladies about us for exactly what?" Draco smirked.



"They are friends of ours," Wesley explained, his tone frosty, obviously resenting the implication that anything untoward was happening. "We are merely providing them with shelter until they are able to make their way back to their homes."



"They’re runaways?" Draco kept pressing on relentlessly. He was hoping that if he pushed hard enough, they’d cave in, for now at least.



"Not quite," the woman, Fred broke in. "Their homes were destroyed in a natural disaster recently. They had no where else to go at that time."



"All of their homes were destroyed?" Draco asked, seeming to be disbelieving.



"In Sunnydale, yes," Wesley nodded. Draco pretended to look thoughtful.



"I’d heard about that," he mused. "But wasn’t that several months ago now?"



"Yes," Wesley was almost gritting his teeth now. "As I said, arrangements are being made…"



"Well then," Draco beamed at him. "It surely wouldn’t be too much of an imposition to provide a room for me as well. I’m sure a hotel this grand has ample room." He sighed. "I’m more than prepared to pay well."



"It’s not that," Wesley protested. "It’s just, well, it’s not our decision to make."



"Who’s is it then?" the younger Brit demanded sharply. There were more people to meet?



"Our employer," Wesley shrugged. "He’ll be returning this evening."



"Very well then," Draco nodded sharply. "Perhaps there is somewhere that I can put my luggage until he returns and I can discuss this matter with him." He used the patented Malfoy stare at the man and as he’d hoped, the slight figure backed down.



"Well, I suppose it can’t hurt," Wesley muttered, glancing back at the assembled throng of girls. "Not for a few hours at any rate."



"Excellent!" Draco grinned, acting as if he had the man’s full approval. He gathered his luggage once more and stared at them expectantly. Wesley heaved a sigh and turned to Fred.



"Could you?" he asked. The girl nodded. She began to lead him away, through the crowd that had parted before them, all the girls with their eyes trained on them. He was used to stares and whispered comments, but never before had they come from such a concentration of how that bloke Xander had put it. From such a concentration of women. Draco had to keep his smile to himself as a whispered argument between Buffy and Wesley filtered through to him. She didn’t seem very happy about his decision. Something about the girls being her responsibility. And Wesley replying that Angel would take care of it all. There was such finality in that, that Draco felt a shudder go up his spine.



Once they’d reached the stairs, the noise and activity level picked up again. Unfortunately, a blur appeared out of nowhere before him. Draco hastily stepped back; teetering on the step he was on before his natural agility caught him from falling back. Fred gasped, her hands wringing until Draco regained his balance. There was a hurried ‘sorry’ thrown his way. Draco turned to watch the rude child who’d pushed her way past him. She stopped at the lower landing, leaning over the railing, panting.



"Buffy! Willow’s awake!" the girl yelped. About thirty heads shot up, panic on their faces.



"Is she getting up?" Buffy asked even as the girl nodded. "Well, distract her Dawn! Don’t let her come down here."



"Too late!" one of the other girls warned. Draco turned to see the new figure they were staring at. A young lady was slowly descending the stairs above him. She was dressed simply, in the jeans that Americans so loved, a baby blue T-shirt closely conforming to her womanly curves. But Draco was relieved to see that her clothes weren’t nearly as tight as the others had been. She was pale skinned, obviously not spending much time in the California sun. And her hair! A glorious shade of red. Much more dignified than that glaring shade that proclaimed the Weasley family. She smiled gently at him before turning to survey the group below them.



"Hey," she greeted softly, but in a voice that carried well. "What’s going on?" No one answered but for Buffy and Xander to come running up the steps. Again, Draco was pushed aside as if he barely existed.



"Wills!" Buffy twittered nervously, exchanging a hurried glance with the male. "What are you doing up?"



"Buff, it’s four-thirty in the afternoon," she smiled, trying to see around Xander, who’d placed himself in front of her.



"But you were gonna take a nap Willow," Xander exclaimed. "What happened to the nap? Did you not feel nappy? ‘Cause you look tired. You should have your nap Willow. Don’t want sleepy Willow. We want perky, fun Willow." At her mildly surprised look and the dark one shot to him by Buffy, he hastily covered. "Not that you’re not fun, perky Willow. I mean, I know Kennedy leaving was rough. I mean, I don’t know-!"



"It’s fine Xander," Willow half-smiled. "I did take a nap. But I didn’t want to sleep all afternoon and then be awake all night." She tried to look around him again. "So what are you all up to?" Amused suspicion was in her tone. And Draco didn’t blame her. If he’d thought their reaction to him was strange, well at least he could be relieved that it seemed to be an ongoing epidemic and not just him.



"Nothing!" the two protested together. Willow did not look convinced.



"Oh, then you won’t mind me going downstairs and getting something to eat?" she teasingly asked. Their eyes widened and they shook their heads.



"We’ll bring something to you!" Buffy blurted out suddenly. "Xander’s right, you do look tired. You go rest; we’ll bring up a tray. Or Dawn can."



"But I’m not tired," she shrugged, her eyes twinkling merrily. Draco could see that although he had no idea what was going on, the redhead certainly seemed to and was enjoying seeing her friends squirm. Well, he didn’t care what she had over them; he was enjoying their discomfort as well. She was playing them to perfection. And they didn’t even realize it.



"Come on," Xander tried to pull his friend back up the steps, but she hesitated. "Don’t make me spank you. Unless you want to be spanked? I haven’t given you your birthday spanks yet. Yeah, we can do that."



"Xander!" she giggled, glancing at the newcomer with a slight flush on her face. Finally, Fred came to their rescue.



"Willow? Could I ask you a favor?" she spoke just as softly as the other girl had. But it was effective in catching their attention. The redhead nodded. Fred gestured to Draco at her side. "This is Mr. Malfoy. Could you show him up to a room? He needs to speak with Angel later on and I really need to get back to packing up my files."



"Of course Fred," Willow gave in graciously. Xander let go of her arm at her pointed glance to it and stepped back. "Follow me," she instructed the blonde. He did so gratefully.



She took him up a few floors, then down a long, poorly lit hallway until she reached the last door on the right. The door opened, not having been locked. She led him in, then turned to watch as he set his luggage just inside the door and then took in the décor. He grimaced slightly and she guessed that it wasn’t what he was used to.



"It’s quite, well-preserved," he finally managed. Willow smiled and nodded. She hated to make snap judgements, but he looked like someone who was accustomed to demanding and receiving the best in life. She was glad to see that maybe he didn’t have the attitude to go with all that spoilage.



"The key for the door is in the drawer by the bed," she informed him. "The light switches work. And I was bored this morning, so I cleaned up, dusted, vacuumed, scrubbed the bathroom. All that stuff."



"Oh, don’t tell me I’m putting you from your room?" Draco looked slightly uncomfortable at that thought.



"Oh no!" Willow grinned. "I did my room last night. I’m just across the hall." She moved to look out the window. "This room was just recently vacated. But you and I are the only ones at this end." She glanced back at him. "I kind of like my privacy. I thought you might too."



"Yes, thank you," he felt suddenly tongue-tied. She turned, as if to leave and he blurted out without thought, "you don’t have to go." She raised a simple eyebrow at him. "I mean, if you don’t want to. Your friends don’t seem to want you downstairs." She ducked her head and he felt like kicking himself. ‘Oh, way to go Draco. The first sane person you meet in this blasted country and you make her feel bad.’ But she had a humungous smile on her face when she looked at him again.



"Don’t mind them," she giggled. "See, it’s my birthday today. And they’re trying to plan a surprise party for me."



"But you know all about it?" he observed, somehow amused that she had seen right through them.



"Of course," she shrugged. "We’ve been friends a long time. There’s not much they can keep from me." She fiddled with the hem of her shirt a moment and he could see that she was hesitant about intruding.



"You know," he grimaced, "it’s my first time in Los Angeles. Perhaps you could tell me a little bit about it?" He flashed her the most devastating smile in his arsenal. She smiled in return and he felt his heart flutter at the loveliness her features made.



"I’d be happy to Mr. Malfoy," she nodded.



"Just one thing though," he grinned at her sudden look of a deer caught in the headlights. "Call me Draco."



"Oh, of course," she sighed. "But you must call me Willow."



"Not a problem. Not a problem at all."




RtR Part Three