AN: A fun crossover fic for my friend Kate, who has been a patient friend. Glee/Buffy/Harry Potter. Pairings inside or in the tags if you want to spoil the fun.

Draco was bored. And Malfoys weren't supposed to be bored.

And certainly not in Paris of all places.

Shopping had barely kept his interest earlier in the day. There was nothing new in the short time leading up to Fashion Week, and Astoria had complained the entire time about the lack of anything "pretty." Draco didn't know how many times he had rolled his eyes privately at the girl he was supposed to be courting. His mother had considered her a fine catch, but Narcissa Malfoy didn't have to spend more than 15 minutes in her company. So instead of being the good little boy and going back to his hotel and having dinner with his supposed girlfriend, he was making his way through the city streets of Paris, looking for anything interesting.

Nothing had caught his eye however like the story he had caught earlier in the paper. There had been an interview with a young American designer debuting a new collection in the city, hoping to gain notice. Usually Draco would gag at the thought of anything from the colonies being noteworthy, but he had been caught up in the young man's style. Old world military style jacket, fitted slacks, polished Oxfords and an ascot. Truly old blood ran in his veins. Draco had smirked over his orange juice while Astoria rambled on about something in the Witch Weekly. He thankfully had the shield of his own paper, which kept his thoughts busy and away from the thoughtless nonsense that came out of wizard magazine.

Kurt Hummel. He'd have to look up his clothing line.

Kurt was rolling his eyes as he was being pulled out of his hotel room.

"Okay seriously Rachel, I'm not in the mood for this. I've got a TON I need to do, and…"

"Oh shut up and listen to the midget for once," said Santana, checking her phone. "You need out Kurt. You've been shut in for weeks, and we as your dear friends, are tired of seeing your ass stuck in a chair when it should be having something stuck in it." He gave Santana a glare that would have melted the paint off the walls, but she shrugged it off.

"I'm not lying and you know it."

Kurt threw up his only free hand in defeat. Rachel squealed and kissed his cheek.

"You're lucky I managed to get away from my show in London."

"And I knew my boy needed a wing-man or he wasn't going to get any ass with some help."

"Santana," chided Rachel. "I'm sure Kurt could have found a romantic interest on his own if he wanted. Although the both of us would agree it has been far too long."

"I've been busy," complained Kurt.

"Well, we're going to get you un-busy and wasted," said Santana. "In celebration of what all you've accomplished. Couldn't even take you out for breakfast this morning without reporters or admirers."

Rachel giggled at Kurt's smirk. "We found the perfect club," said the brunette as she took his arm. "It's called Rêverie."

Still wandering through the city made Draco tired and if he was honest, a little bit lonely in the massive crowds. He didn't want to go back to the hotel yet, but it was getting late. And he needed a drink if he was going to deal with Astoria again.

Looking around, he noticed a group of moderately well dressed young men heading into what looked to be some sort of club. While it seemed to be muggle, at the moment, Draco didn't care. A beer or rum or vodka was all alcohol no matter whose name was on it.

He followed the group in, happy to feel the warm air of the place and promptly headed to the bar. Draco ordered a single malt scotch quickly in French and turned around to face the crowd. He was surprised when he noticed there were not a lot of intermixed female and male couples out on the dance floor. Right away he noticed a rather busty black haired woman in leather with her hands all over a small reddish blonde in forest green and brown. He could have mistaken her for a short tree. Not far from them was a larger black man with a symbol on his forehead dancing with a young white man in glasses. Draco was reminded of Potter, but the last he heard was that he and Granger had run off to the Bermuda Triangle on some Ministry jaunt, leaving the Weasels behind. And that had been over two years ago.

The more he looked, the more he started to realize he was in some sort of poofters club. While once Draco was the sort to make a fuss about such things, his own philosophy of late had been to live and let live. Not matter how much you spoke up about things, they would always exist. They just didn't go away because you didn't like them. Even money couldn't erase away what he used to call blemishes on society. He noticed his life was a lot calmer that way.

"Oh god, those pants are horrendous, aren't they?" Draco looked up in surprise as someone was sitting down beside him at the bar and speaking French at him. He raised an eyebrow at the drink. Coke and rum. At least it wasn't sissy and colored.

"I do think it would make for a rather fetching mumu," said Draco, leaning his head towards the offending wearer of the pants. "Or some 80 year old man's dressing gown."

The stranger looked amused at that, and took a sip from his drink. "You're not Parisian are you?"

"No," admitted Draco. "I live in London."

"I thought I detected a British accent."

Draco smirked at that. "And you have a terrible American one."

The man sighed. "Guilty as charged."

"Then can we drop the French and speak in our native tongues?" Draco didn't know why he was still speaking to this guy. He was obviously muggle, but his outfit screamed luxury. Probably some rich American out for a trip around Europe to make a name for himself. He could be speaking to worse he supposed. At least money attracted money. Draco wondered if the poor guy realized what type of bar he was in. Or maybe he liked that sort of thing. He certainly wasn't going to judge the man if he preferred the company of men.

"It works for me," said the man. "My god, how can he dance in those? I would crawl over broken glass before I would wear crocs to any sort of social event."

"It is a rather poor excuse for footwear," said Draco, ordering another drink before commenting. Draco was beginning to like this muggle. He was willing to call out his fellow human on their pathetic choices. There was no excuse for presenting a bad image.

"Oh Kurt, who's your friend?" said Rachel as she approached Kurt from the side, putting her arm around his shoulders. Draco raised an eyebrow. Kurt?

"I must say, he has excellent taste," said Santana with a purr at Draco's shoulder. "Platinum blonde works well for you."

Now this muggle girl Draco liked. "All natural. From my father's side of the family."

"If you don't snatch him up soon Kurt Hummel, then I may have to take him for you," said Rachel in Kurt's ear as she kissed his cheek

"Go back to staring at that red-head in the corner," said Kurt sarcastically. "The one with the long red hair and even longer hemp skirt who's been staring back."

The red head in question was sitting with her girlfriend with long curly brown hair and wearing dark leather and packing more weapons than she should be allowed to have.

"It's too bad that lead pooped out," said the black haired girl, finishing off the bottle of beer in her hand.

"Yeah, Dawn won't be happy I didn't come back with an actual fairy in a jar," humored the red head. "But at least we know the demon weapon cache never actually existed." They both stared at all the couples out on the floor.

"You want to?" asked the red head. "Not that I'm the best dancer, but I might be able to cut a rug… or three."

Faith kissed her girlfriend on the forehead. "No Wills, I think I'm going to go get another drink." She did raise her gaze. "Though that hot brunette in the corner keeps staring at you. You might want to go get a piece of that."

Willow smirked. "You want to take her home tonight?"

Faith looked coy. "You always know what I'm thinking love." Faith got up from the table and wandered towards the bar. She watched out of the corner of her eye as Willow approached the girl and the two were whispering to each other. She might have even seen the girl giggle. Faith laughed silently and ordered herself another beer in rough French. Her ears perked up when she heard haughty laughter and English being spoken, which seemed out of place in the Paris bar.

"Oh god, Rachel got her red head," said a brown haired male. "That skirt is atrocious. Does anyone really wear hemp?"

"I think the atrocity is the sponge painted ivy down the sides," snarked out Draco. He was practically giddy. He had found the young designer he had seen this morning in the paper. Now he could get some ideas for free if he kept him liquored up. Not that it would be hard. The young man, who seemed just a little bit younger than Draco, seemed ready to spend time in his company. But then, there weren't really that many dressed on the level they were. Draco paused, amused over his drink.

He wondered if the young man liked him.

That definitely could lead to some interesting benefits.

"Hey!" said Faith, glaring at Draco and Kurt as she approached them. Something felt off about the blonde haired man in front of her, and the pair were pissing her off, talking about Willow like that.

"That atrocious skirt was made for her by her ex-girlfriend who was murdered," growled Faith, grabbing a hold of Draco. She grabbed at his hand when he went to grab for something. A wand. She shoved him back into the bar.

"I knew I didn't like you for some reason," said the Slayer. She went to punch him when she felt two touches on her arms. One was Willow, which she had expected. Her girlfriend always did try to quiet her violent side.

The other, when she turned, was a silver haired woman, just about her own age. She seemed to glow in the light of the club.

"He didn't mean any 'arm," said the woman in a thick French accent, too thick for Faith's taste. "Though his tongue maybe biting, he didn't mean to 'ffend."

The Slayer had to shake her head to keep from being distracted by the woman's looks. She was beautiful, and Faith herself easily faltering in her anger. She noticed a red headed man lingering behind the scenes, a wand at the ready. She could tell Willow was studying the pair interestedly.

"You know this guy?" Faith said, pointing at Draco.

"Yes," said the woman firmly. "I vent to school with him for one 'ear, we now live within the same community, you could say."

"They're harmless," said Willow. "Just let it go Faith."

Faith shrugged and grabbed her beer. She took Willow firmly by the hand and led her out to the dance floor. Willow smirked at Draco and had Rachel in tow.

"Thank you," said Draco, averting his eyes from Bill & Fleur. It was odd, seeing them here, but the Ministry probably had them about on some mission he supposed. Thank whoever was above they had taken a few hours off for some fun. He would have never thought Fleur would become an Auror, much less be seen in French gay club.

"It would be good to watch your mouth when a Chosen is around," murmured Fleur in Draco's ear, dropping the too thick accent. "Be glad she was buzzed." Fleur kissed his cheek and moved away from him. Malfoy nearly wanted to retch in disgust. He had just been kissed by a Weasley. Even if she was only a Weasley by marriage. It was still disturbing.

"Friends of yours?" said Kurt. The blonde haired man looked over to his drinking companion, who seemed unperturbed by the whole situation. He wondered if Kurt had actually seen anything, other than the woman pushing him and the others. Draco had tried to be careful in pulling his wand.

"Only by association," said Draco, wiping off his cheek with a silk handkerchief. "Don't know the firecracker or the red head."

Kurt fiddled with the straw in his drink. "Well, your former schoolmate seems to have gotten a hold of one of my friends." He pointed to where Santana was dancing between Bill and Fleur, but the former cheerleader's eyes were focused on the blonde in front of her with intensity. "And the others are taking off with Rachel." Draco looked surprised as the curly haired woman who had pushed him against the bar had Rachel pressed against her. The brunette was laughing and trying to tease Willow, who was fiddling with Rachel's hair.

"And on that note, I do think I am going back to my hotel room," said Kurt, setting down his half finished drink with a sigh.

Draco couldn't believe he was about to say this, but...

"Wait."

The next morning, the three friends gathered for breakfast. Santana glowered over her Bloody Mary as Rachel was all bubbly and telling about her tryst with the two lesbians and how it was an eye-opening experience. Kurt just seemed amused. He sat back and listened to Santana talk about her own experience with the blonde haired woman and how she had made her see stars. The red headed man had been gentle, and it had driven him wild when Santana ran her fingers down his scars.

"And what about you?" said Rachel.

"Did you manage to talk that beautiful boy into bed with you? Or am I going to start tying you to the post in New York and finding a boy to fuck you senseless," smirked Santana.

Kurt gave Santana a dirty look while he stirred his coffee. He sighed and had a far off look in his eye as he stared down the Paris street next to the café.

"You could say that…"

Back at his hotel, Draco Malfoy slept peacefully in his bed, still content from the night's activities.

He could get used to sex with boys. Especially really cute boys who could make use of their tongues.

Especially with that tongue ring. Definitely the tongue ring.

And across the city at another hotel room, Faith Lehane was lying on top of the covers of the bed sprawled out in Willow's lap.

"Well, that was fun. And it kept the Auror off our backs for another day."

Willow chuckled. "That Veela is interesting isn't she?"

Faith smirked. "Just wait till Gilly boy finds out we ran into his crowd." She rolled over and snuggled into Willow's bare stomach. "We should take the field trips more often."