Lily arrived at the restaurant ten minutes late. She hated being late. Her life as a reporter was all about deadlines, and she hated missing them. Her personal life was no different.

John Smith however did not appear to mind as he rose from his seat at their table with a warm smile, kissing her on the hand. The gesture was beginning to nark her. She couldn't pinpoint it exactly, but there was certainly something strange about it – something that bothered her.

"This is lovely," she said, taking in the restaurant around her. And it was. She had never been here before but already dreaded looking at the menu, or rather, the prices. She knew that he would insist on paying, he was too old fashioned not to, but it really was too much. But then again, it was nice to be spoilt once and a while right?

"I took the liberty of ordering for you," he told her, holding out her chair for her to sit. She smiled graciously as she did so, and watched him walk around to the other side of the table, taking his own. Did she mind? Actually she bloody well did! But it was a free meal so she really shouldn't be complaining.

"Thank you," she replied instead.

"Would you like a drink?"

As if on cue a round waiter appeared at their table with a bottle in his hand. Red. Well, at least they had similar taste. "Please," she nodded and the waiter poured a tiny amount into each of their glasses.

Like a true connoisseur she watched as he swirled the glass, lowering his nose into the mouth to take a deep breath before sipping the deep liquid tentatively. Lily felt suddenly embarrassed after having downed hers in one, avidly awaiting her refill. "Excellent," John nodded, smacking his lips slightly and extending his glass to the waiter. "How do you like it, Abigail?"

"Lovely," she smiled, hoping she wasn't blushing too adamantly as she too held out her glass to be refilled. The waiter did so, leaving the bottle on the table as he departed. Lily took a small sip this time, before gently placing her glass down.

"I would like to apologise for our last meeting," he began a moment later, sounding truly remorseful.

"It's alright," she interrupted before he could apologise further. "I had an interesting evening all the same; I've never been to an auction before. I only hope your client was not too upset about the loss."

"He was…disappointed," John replied guardedly, taking a sip from his glass. "And the party?"

"Great," Lily replied. And indeed it had been. With no one to recognise them they had helped themselves to all the free alcohol they could manage and had to get the Knightbus home for fear of splinching themselves. "You missed out."

"Perhaps I should learn not to mix business with pleasure," he smiled. "But in saying that, I wonder if I may make a proposition?"

Lily inclined her head in interest. "Oh?"

"It is perhaps a little early in the evening, and indeed, our entire relationship…" He paused, gauging her reaction. "However I am travelling to Scotland on Wednesday on business. The length of my stay is uncertain though I do not envisage it exceeding a week. It would please me greatly if you might consider accompanying me."

Lily was speechless

"You do not wish to," he responded to her silence, looking embarrassed. "I understand. It was far too presumptuous of me, I-"

"No," Lily said suddenly, snapping out of her state of shock. "It was just unexpected, that's all."

He looked slightly hopeful. "Of course you may return at any time you please if the trip interferes with any prior commitments," he began to proposition her. "I can arrange a car to take you back. Although," he added with a smile. "I would also consider the Scottish countryside to be the perfect retreat for a promising author."

Lily bit her lip in thought. Did she dare? A free holiday did not sound too bad at all, and getting the time off work would not be a hassle; she'd just promise Ray an article for the travel section. But an entire week away with a man he hardly knew and whom she believed was keeping secrets about his real identity…? Risky. Very risky. Then again, she was a witch and was perfectly capable of defending herself if the occasion called for it. And Ignis would probably kill her if she said no…

"I'd love to."

& & &

When dinner was over John offered to walk her to her car, which put Lily in quite a pickle having apparated directly to the restaurant. "I caught a taxi this evening," she told him coolly. "Although you may walk me to the taxi-rank if you insist," she added with a smile.

"You have not brought a coat?" he enquired as he retrieved his own from a waiter in the entrance. Well she hadn't exactly needed one to apparate right outside, had she. She shook her head no. "Then you must allow me to drive you," he said, ushering her out into the street. "My car is already here; you cannot wait for a taxi in this weather."

It was chilly and she appreciated the gesture, but really, as soon as he turned his back she was just going to disapparate out of there anyway. "Thank you," she said. "But it's really not necessary."

"I insist."

"And so do I," she told him firmly, resiting against him as he tried to steer her toward the black Mercedes parked in front of the restaurant.

"Abigail," he said boldly, and Lily was once again reminded of the powerful king she had seen in his upon their first meeting. "I cannot allow it. If something should happen-"

"I assure you I am perfectly capable of waiting in line for a taxi by myself," she told him hotly, and instantly regretting it as she saw the look of annoyance flash across his face.

A moment later however he was laughing. "You are a determined woman," he said. "But I shall have my way. You must come to my house; I will call you a taxi from there and you shall wait indoors." It was clearly an order but his voice was soft enough to make it sound like an invite. "If you should catch cold," he added in a much gentler tone. "I will never be able to forgive myself." With a sigh she relented, stepping toward the car as he opened the door to the backseat. Somehow it did not surprise her that he should have his own driver.

"Good evening, Mr Smith," the driver spoke as John joined her in the car. He had a strong Welsh accent. "Am I to drop the lady somewhere?"

"No. Straight home, Evans."

Typical. Why did she have to have one of those common names? Now she was going to be confused beyond belief every time this man came up in conversation. Hopefully she wouldn't hear a lot of him.

"Abigail, Evans here is my assistant. He will be accompanying us to Scotland."

Crap. She would probably blow her cover by the time they'd even pulled out of her driveway.

"Lovely," she said, hoping to sound delighted. "Nice to meet you Mr. Evans."

He glanced in the rear-view mirror as they pulled out onto the road, giving her a long stare before replying. "My pleasure, Miss-"

"Winchester," she supplied. "Abigail Winchester." He gave her a slight nod before turning his eyes to he front. He did not speak again.

John's house, as it turned out, was actually the top floor of a very smart looking apartment building in the city, not too far from the restaurant. He stepped out of the car the moment it stopped, making his way around to the other side to opened the door for Lily. She smiled her thanks. Evans however drove away the instant her door was closed.

They took the elevator up to his apartment, which they rode in silence. "Would you like me to call the taxi for you?" he asked as the doors finally opened, revealing his home. Lily however took a moment to reply as she looked over her new surroundings. She felt as though she'd just stepped into the IKEA showroom. And she should know; she and Ignis had planned their renovations around the latest catalogue.

"Oh, yes please," she said walking into the living room area. How peculiar; even his walls were painted the same purple she had used. He shrugged off his coat, hanging it on a fancy looking stand (from page twenty five) before striding across his open planned apartment, presumably to the telephone. Meanwhile, Lily made herself comfortable on the very couch she was planning on ordering from page fifty-two.

Hmm, for an Antique dealer she really had expected…well, a few more antiques.

"Fifteen minutes," John announced on his return. "Would you care for a drink?" he asked approaching the cabinet to her right. "One for the journey?"

"Thank you," she politely nodded, getting to her feet. "Might I use the bathroom?"

He nodded, pouring two glasses of what might have been a whiskey. "Over there," he said, indicating a door on the far side of the room with his glass.

Lily crossed to the bathroom, unsurprised to discover that it too was decked out in IKEA's finest. It was as if he had got up one day, chucked out all his old stuff, driven to the showroom and said 'give me one of everything'. Then again, she admitted, she was not entirely sure how long he had been in the country. Perhaps he had only moved in here recently and IKEA was the most logical way of furnishing an entire apartment for very little cost.

Flushing, she jumped slightly as she caught sight of her reflection in the mirror-fronted cabinet. Surprising how she didn't even recognise herself in this disguise. She smiled at Abigail as she rinsed her hands, thinking how interesting the conversation would be if she and John actually hit it off and she had to explain that her real name was Lily Evans, she worked for the Daily Prophet, had red hair and green eyes, and oh yeah, she was a witch. This was why she didn't like dating Muggles…if he actually was a Muggle.

She knew it was rude to snoop, but the mirror-fronted bathroom cabinet was just too tempting and she hesitantly reached out to slide open one of its doors. Well, she justified herself, if he has some sort of fungal infection it was probably best that she knew now. But to her great surprise the cupboard was completely empty. Not even a bar of soap. At least she could safely say he didn't have regular female visitors. But it was slightly odd. There was a toothbrush in a cup on the sink, but where was his shampoo? His toothpaste? His soap?

She closed the cabinet, seeing her own frown in the reflection. Oh, and a door. She had not observed it when she had come in, too busy trying to make it to the loo. Turning on her heel she strode toward it. Ah, the bedroom.

It no longer surprised her to see the familiar IKEA furnishings as she stepped inside, positive she would not be caught because the main bedroom door was closed. It was clean and neat, most unlike her own bedroom after getting ready for a date – she knew she would not be able to find the bed when she got home for the amount of clothes strewn over it. Feeling sneaky she crossed to the wardrobe, pulling the door open a fraction and peering inside; several expensive looking suits hung on their coat hangers. A chest of draws caught her eye next, but more so, the bundle of papers that were strewn across it – the only bit of disarray in the entire apartment - as though they had been dropped there without thought.

She began to move toward them when she nearly tripped over as her pointy shoe caught on something protruding form under the bed. Dropping to her knees, she pulled up the long bedcovers slightly, spying a black trunk, obviously not from IKEA. It looked old and worn and didn't suit the rest of his belongings at all. Tempted to see if it had anything in it, but also aware that she could not be much longer without causing suspicion, she abandoned it, hoping to get a glance at those papers at least.

The first, she smiled, was an IKEA catalogue and the second, a booklet explaining how to assemble the wardrobe. The third sheet however was a receipt of some sort, or a statement. Scanning the writing at the top she soon realised it was actually from the auction house. Business papers – how boring. But then something caught her eye; Wilfred Snell. Snatching up the paper she began to re-read the entire thing properly. It was a receipt from something Wilfred Snell had bought at the auction house. Two hundred and fifty thousand pounds…

"Snooping, are we?"

Lily dropped the receipt, her hands flying to her mouth as she gasped in alarm. The man called Evans stood in the now open doorway, one hand still on the doorhandle, the other holding a briefcase.

"No," she spoke calmly, trying to regain her composure as she dropped to the ground to pick up the fallen paper, quickly restoring it to its rightful place. "Just having a look. I'm renovating," she added quickly, snatching up the IKEA catalogue. "John has some interesting furniture, don't you think? I love this oak finish – you'd never know it wasn't real."

He seemed to consider her a moment longer before finally stepping further into the room, setting the briefcase beside the wardrobe. While he wasn't looking Lily quickly tossed the catalogue back onto the draws, covering the auction house receipt. She leant against the furniture casually, a smile plastered across her face, waiting for him to turn back to her.

"You are travelling with us to Scotland," he said when his eyes finally fell upon her again. It wasn't a question, and he sounded apprehensive.

"Yes," she nodded. "I'm looking forward to it."

The standard response would have been 'me too' but he never said it. In fact, she got the distinct impression that this man wanted nothing less than to spend his week away with her.

"How long have you worked for John?" she asked conversationally.

He paused before responding. "It is rude to linger in here. We should continue this discussion in the main room – your host is waiting."

Lily glanced back toward the bathroom, knowing that if she left through the bedroom it would look suspicious to John. Evans however cleared his throat, indicated the main bedroom door with an outstretched hand. He had a slight smirk on his face that told Lily he wanted her to get caught. What was this guy's problem? Well, she wasn't going to let him get to her, that was for sure. She stepped forward confidently, giving him a brief nod as he allowed her to pass through into the main living area first. Relief washed over her as she realised John had his back to them and he had no idea which door she had emerged from.

"Ah," John said, hearing the two of them approach. He turned to greet Abigail with a wide smile, handing her her drink. "I have been thinking about Wednesday; we shall pick you up from your house at eleven o'clock; how does that sound?"

"Fine," Lily shrugged, taking a seat on the couch as John offered it to her. He took the space beside her as Evans took the couch opposite, leaning one arm over the backrest casually. He gave Lily a pointed look as if trying to how her how comfortable he was here in contrast to the way she perched on the end of the seat. This was his territory. Unbeknownst to John, she returned the look with a raised eyebrow, leaning back into the cushions and crossing one leg over the other. They continued to stare at each other threateningly.

He was not a handsome man, she decided, looking at him then. Though the smirk he wore didn't help matters. His hair was cut very short – to the point where he might actually appear bald if his hair had been blonde. It appeared to be a sandy colour, and his eyes were grey, but did not give him that mysterious appeal that Sirius's managed. His skin was a nice tan colour and his figure was athletic, but his eyebrows were too busy and his nose was too long, almost laughably so, that it was the first thing you noticed when looking at him so that his better features went unnoticed.

"Mr Smith," he spoke suddenly, turning away from Lily. "You mentioned looking over the plans for Scotland this evening." He glanced back at Lily briefly.

"Always so eager," John replied with a slight chortle. "Evans, you will discover," he continued, turning to Lily. "Is a workaholic. No, not until our guest departs," he added to Evans. "Abigail does not wish to be bored by our dreary business talk." He smiled at her once more, taking his arm and laying it about Lily's shoulders. It was the first time he had shown her any affection besides the hand-kissing, but Evans didn't know that. She leaned into him, daringly resting one hand on his closest knee. John gave her a delighted smile at their sudden intimacy. Evans gave her a distinct glare.

A car horn resounded from somewhere outside and John removed his arm with a slight sigh. "Your taxi," he announced. "How time flies. I shall accompany you downstairs, Abigail."

"Thankyou," she replied sweetly, glancing at Evans and delighted to see him looking murderous. They rose from the couch and Lily handed her almost untouched drink back to John, who stepped away briefly to deposit it in the kitchen. Lily meanwhile made her way to the elevator door, awaiting his return.

"Mr Smith is a very busy man," she heard a Welsh accent hiss from behind her. Lily turned slowly to see that Evans had followed her closely. "He does not have time for the tedious relationships that women look for."

"Oh I don't know about that," Lily replied with an innocent smile. It was odd; why should he care about his boss's love life? And it did not seem as though Evans was trying to protect her because John Smith was some sort of cad; it seemed quite the opposite. He wanted Lily to stay away from John Smith!

"Ready?"

The two turned to see John having returned from the kitchen. Evans stepped away quickly, lingering in the background. He annoyed her greatly. "Yes," she said, stepping purposely closer to John. "I've had a lovely time, thank you." John was quick with the uptake, leaning down to kiss her almost chastely on the lips. She could practically feel the heat radiating from Evans as he seethed in his corner, so naturally she hooked one arm around the Bulgarian's neck and made sure Evans got a proper show, kissing her date soundly.

"Right," John said as they parted, looking slightly awkward about their voyeur but grinning like a schoolboy all the same. "Downstairs, shall we?"

Lily nodded her yes, and he opened the door for her. "Good night Mr Evans," she called pleasantly before stepping into the elevator. She did not hear a reply.

It wasn't until Lily had stepped into the taxi that she realised what exactly Evans had said to her. He does not have time for the tedious relationships that women look for.

That women look for...

Great Merlin, the man was gay.