Fandoms: Supernatural, Harry Potter
Characters: Dean Winchester, Death, Harry Potter
Prompt: Death just wants to find the perfect person to make his Master happy.
Prompt Made By: Vixen Uchiha
Disclaimer: I don't own the following series(es) or any character(s) that follow, and unless I. H. Scribe is listed after Prompt Made By chances are I don't own the idea for this story either.
The scythe heated up and Dean dropped it. It reappeared on the table next to Death.
"Thanks for returning that to me, Dean," Death said. "Join me. The pizza's delicious. Go on, sit down. Took you long enough to find me. I've been wanting to talk to you."
"I gotta say, I got mixed feelings about that. Is this the part where you kill me?"
"Don't be so egotistical. To a thing like me, a thing like you, well, think how you'd feel if a bacterium sat at your table and started to get snarky. No, I have a different idea in mind. How do you feel about dating men?"
"Uh, I'm, uh, I'm flattered, but you're, uh, you're not my type," Dean said, with a weak laugh.
Death glared at him, "As if I'd lower myself to dating one such as you. I had someone else in mind. You want my ring don't you? One date, the ring is yours until Lucifer is gone. You want to keep it, I'm afraid you'll have to give him one in return. I believe the current human ritual is to do so while down on one knee."
"I haven't even agreed to date this guy," Dean said. "Don't you think it's a little soon to be talking marriage."
Death made a 'hmm'ing noise, and then gestured for Dean to follow him.
"Good afternoon Master," Death said. The boy – he couldn't possibly be older than seventeen or eighteen – doing the dishes jumped and whirled around.
"Oh, it's just you. Good afternoon, Mr. D. What can I do for you today?" he asked, turning off the water and drying his hands with a dishtowel.
"This is yours Master," Death said, handing over the scythe.
"Oh, uh, thanks? Who's your friend?"
"This is Dean Winchester. He requires my ring to seal Lucifer back in the pit." Death looked expectantly at him.
"Nice to meet you Dean. I'm Harry," the boy said. Then he turned to Death, "What's that got to do with me? It's your ring. You can do what you want with it."
"I've made a deal with him."
Harry narrowed his eyes, "What sort of deal?"
"I only wish for you to be happy, Master."
"Wait, this is the guy you want me to take out on a date?" Dean asked.
"Whoa, wait, no, no, no, no," Harry said, waving his arms. "Look, I get that your just looking out for my happiness and everything, but I'm not gonna date a guy that's only doing this to get his hands on your ring. Especially not one who wears the same clothes as my godson."
"What's wrong, kid? Don't think you can handle all this?"
"Kid?" Harry said incredulously. "I'm older than you pretty-boy. And I can handle everything you've got, however little there is." Here Harry made an exaggerated look at Dean's groin, making clear exactly what he thought was little. "I'm just not willing to date a man-child."
"No, you're just afraid you might like me."
"There's nothing you could possibly do to make me like you."
"Great. I'll pick you up at seven. Wear something nice, dear." With that, Dean Winchester strutted out of Harry's kitchen, leaving a gobsmacked Harry and a smiling Death behind.
Harry looked at Death and asked, "What just happened?"
"I believe you agreed to go out on a date, Master."
"I can't believe I got conned into this," Harry muttered, peeking through the blinds as Dean honked the horn of the Impala again. Then he noticed Death was now in the seat next to Dean and Dean was getting pale. By the time Harry made it out to the car, Death was gone, but Dean was still pale.
"Do I even want to know what he said to you?" Harry asked.
"Typical overprotective father stuff. Hurt him, I hurt you. Things like that."
"Hurt me, pretty-boy, and I hurt you. Mr. D can have what's left."
"Why do you call him Mr. D?"
"Kinda weird to call him Death in public. It became habit after a while. He doesn't seem to mind, even after I told him to tell me if he did."
"You can actually order him around?"
"Being the Master of Death has to come with some perks," Harry said. "Is this – no way! There is no way you managed to get reservations at this place!"
"Saved the owner and his family while they were vacationing in New Orleans. I've got a private table at every restaurant he owns."
"I have to say pretty-boy," Harry said, as Dean pulled into the driveway to drop him off at home, "that was decent for a date."
"Decent? Not awesome?"
"Not even close."
"Oh, come on. That has to at least be in your top five dates."
"Doesn't even make the top twenty."
"I guess you'll just have try harder next time."
"Same time, tomorrow?"
"I have meetings for the rest of the week. How about next Tuesday?"
"Barring the end of the world? Sure thing."
"See you next week, pretty-boy," Harry said, leaning over to kiss him on the cheek. Death appeared next to him as soon as Harry was back in his house.
"Here's the ring."
"I, uh, kinda agreed to go on another date with him, but I'm not sure where I'll be then."
Death smiled, "I'll bring him to you."
"Are you happy, Master?" Death asked.
"I am. Doesn't mean I forgive you for tricking me into that date though."
Death smirked at him and disappeared.
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I. H. Scribe