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[barking-draco.livejournal.com]

Draco had finally been given a task worthy of a demonic intern. His satisfaction at this state of affairs could be discerned in his voice, his eyes, his jaunty walk. Draco was on a mission.

Better yet, it was something that only HE could do. Admittedly, the prospect of going back to Crowley’s flat in order to disarm the things which had originally hurt the demon was frightening, at first. But then Aziraphale had patiently explained that Draco was invincible, in a matter of speaking. That all Draco had to do was grab some silly toys from some unusually active plants, and check the flat for anything else that could be dangerous to Crowley’s health.. This was nothing, compared to Herbology.

Draco hummed a tune that he would never admit to knowing due to its popularity among adolescent witches, and started to ascend the stairs that lead to Crowley’s penthouse suite.

It was a good thing that he had never seen any Ghostbusters or James Bond movies. It would have taken away a lot of his enjoyment in slinking up the stairwell and through the hall, taking plenty of opportunities to dramatically pause before he leapt around each corner with his wand out, looking wildly in all directions. His tuneless hum was now more reminiscent of the Weird Sister’s early work.

Draco reached the entrance to Crowley’s dwelling later than he would have had he simply walked, but it was important to set the mood. Draco now felt that he was mentally prepared to take on anything that could be in the flat. Unfortunately for Draco, his expectations of what he would encounter were limited to modern furniture and amusing pet plants. It was unfair, really, for him to encounter another would be plant neutralizer. Draco watched, momentarily speechless, as the man wrestled with an English Ivy.

“Give it up, you overgrown skunkweed!” cried the interloper, who on an unrelated note looked like the avatar of one night stands. The words broke Draco from his silence, and he cleared his throat while trying to look menacing. He also put on an aristocratic sneer, for good measure.

Pointing his wand directly at the man’s heart, he asked, “You’d better have a damn good reason for being here.”

Despite the opinions of some, Draco had finished going through puberty quite some time ago. However, Fate decided that his voice needed to crack one last time, in honor of the perfect moment for it. Fate can be a bitch like that.

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[barking-draco.livejournal.com]

Draco really didn't like the sound of that idea, but he wasn't coming up with anything better. At least John seemed to be confident about his solution. In his panicked state, it never even occurred to him to use a simple Finite. So he aimed his wand at the lily, and incanted, " Legilimens Spathiphyllum!" at it.

Draco quailed as he heard a new voice enter his head. *Well, hello zere. Can I do anyting to help you?* it purred in an atrocious French accent.

"Hello, Lily. Yes, you could help me. Can you give me any more information about your recent ally? Was he carrying anything? And was he alone?" Draco said quickly, before the plant could suggest anything. Much to his relief, the ivy halted in its efforts.

*Well. Ze Ally was very, how you say? Special. He brought wiz him ze tools to defeat ze Nemesis. He also brought plain water. He-*

"Wait a minute," inturrupted Draco. "Ivy told me that he brought holy.. er, glowing water with him."

The French Lily suddenly sounded very smug. *No. Eet was plain when he brought eet here. Zen he summoned a man, who was confused but made eet glow. Zen ze man disappeared. Ivy ees wrong. You should listen to me instead.*

The Ivy tensed angrily. This made Draco wince, since it was still entwined around his thighs. *This is TOO much! You exotic French tarts always try to steal from us native plants. Well, I've had enough!* And with that, the ivy launched itself away from the relieved Draco and started grappling with the lily on the floor.

Draco stared at the spectacle, amused. Neither plant seemed to be gaining dominance, although they were both writhing quite energetically. He shrugged, and turned to John. "Thanks, mate. That worked out quite well. I still need to disarm the others." Remembering his duty, he reached down and scooped the two discarded pistols off the floor. "I could also help you check the flat for other clues, if you like."

[dangeroushabits.livejournal.com]

"Yeah, all right. I've been round once already, but another look won't hurt."

Accompanied by the sounds of Draco's epic struggle, John wandered through the disturbingly clean rooms of the ultramodern flat, shaking his head at the stark minimalist decor. The place looked like one of those showcase homes--someplace that had never been occupied, but was just there to remind real people what lousy housekeepers they were. He supposed demonic powers must make the housework easy, if not totally unnecessary, but still...

It was this unnatural cleanliness that finally drew his attention to a small slip of paper peeking out from beneath the edge of a decorative table. John bent and picked it up. It was a receipt from a book shop--and not, he noted with interest, Aziraphale's.

Let There be Lust, by Misty Moore, he read, then incredulously read it again. What the fuck? Sounds like some sappy romance novel.

He couldn't picture Crowley taking an interest in that kind of rubbish. Though admittedly, he thought he'd seen a couple of romances lying around when he'd first visited the demon up at the Manor. He nearly binned the thing, but decided at the last minute to hold on to it, just in case it turned out to be important.

Returning to the living room with nothing more to show for his efforts, he was met by a drenched and bedraggled but triumphant Draco, his arms full of water pistols (some still sporting the odd creeper or two.) Glancing over the kid's shoulder, he saw leaves scattered everywhere and several overturned pots.

"Hail the conquering hero," he said with a grin. "Place looks clean; all I found that looked out of place was this." He showed Draco the receipt. "Doesn't seem quite Crowley's style, though somehow a holy assassin who reads smut in his spare time seems not quite on, either. Still. Might be worth mentioning." He tucked the receipt into Draco's breast pocket. "Ready to clear out?"

[barking-draco.livejournal.com]

Draco was worn out, from fighting all of those houseplants. However, he was still feeling rather triumphant after having bested all of the houseplants. He nodded in response to John's question and they strolled out the door.

"So," said Draco as they started down the hallway, "would you like to go back to the Manor together? We both have to report to Crowley, after all." A thought occurred to him. He might as well try to find out more about his new job. "What sort of jobs does he usually have you do, anyway? I just started working for him."

John chuckled. "Jobs? He's not my boss, kid..."

Draco was momentarily taken aback. "Wh-what? You said he sent you here!"

John smirked. "No, I didn't. I said I was doing him a favor. Never said he asked." He winked. "Tell you what though, I won't tell him about Ivy and Lily if you don't tell him you saw me here. Deal?"

Draco considered this. Crowley probably wouldn't like it if Draco withheld information from him. On the other hand, he didn't much like the idea of Crowley hearing about the debacle with the houseplants. He held out his hand. "Deal." They shook and walked downstairs.

Outside, Draco thought to ask, "So, will I see you again?"

John grinned. "Oh, I expect so. I'm like the proverbial bad penny, you never know when I might turn up. See you around, kid." With that, he vanished into the shadows, probably in the direction of the nearest pub.

Draco headed back to the Manor. There was a lot to think about, and he had to discuss it with Crowley.