fandomtownies | Luke's, Sunday Evening

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Luke's, Sunday Evening

Having Cas around again was... nice. Yeah, nice was the word for it. Even if Priestly and his weird girlfriend had the completely wrong idea about everything.

And Dean had made it through this weekend, so he thought he deserved a burger for his troubles. If he was smarter, he'd know that the Winchester line never had anything end so easily.

Really now.

Specials
Death by Chocolate
Deepdish Pizza
Fried Pickles

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Mmmm. Death by Chocolate.

As he made himself a burger. Because why not when you worked there?

"I certainly hope you're making something for yourself." You better believe that burger was going to Death, Dean. No way around it.

"Jesus--" Dean about dropped his plate, going still as the primal lizard part of his brain recognized that everything going on was beyond his usual level of dangerous.

The corners of Death's mouth twitched up into something almost like a smile as he stared back at him. "The plate, Dean."

Dean carefully put the burger down in front of him, not looking any less wary than he started out. "You here for a reason?"

Like a reaping reason?

"Have a seat, Dean," Death said, inspecting the burger for a moment before deeming it worthy of his consumption and taking a bite.

That didn't answer his question at all.

But Dean did as he was told, more than aware of how dangerous it would be to disobey this one.

Also, his burger. He missed his burger.

It was a very good burger if Death did say so.

"You're hiding."

Hey now! Dean opened his mouth, ready to argue that, but was quickly silenced with a look.

"Don't. I'm not interested in excuses," he continued, delicately dabbing at the corner of his mouth with a paper napkin. "But I will take this time to get your attention. There are things left uncompleted."

"Lucifer's back in his box," Dean said defensively. "Apocalypse cancelled."

"Yes. Congratulations on accomplishing that," Death replied dryly. Like it was the very least Dean could do to fix the mess on this planet.

Because Death was a rude guy.

"So what's left?"

"You'll see," Death said. "Keep your eyes open. I won't be cleaning up your messes this time around."

Huh. Old guy with Dean. Not Bobby, Dean already said he warned that guy away (and besides, from what he'd heard about the guy, he didn't see Bobby looking quite that put together and dignified).

"This your dad, Dean?"

He even knew that wasn't true? (He'd met Mr. Winchester, after all.) But still. You didn't just ask out right if this was a guy's creepy uncle, right?

Death didn't so much look up from his burger. Because it wasn't worth his time when there is decent food to be had.

He did, however snort at the question.

Dean tried very hard to convey 'this is a horrible idea, Priestly. You need to flee before this gets out of hand' with his eyes and facial expression.

It might not have helped that much.

"This is--" Well, how do you explain this?

Did those facial ticks mean "this is my creepy old incredibly rude uncle"? It wasn't like Priestly had ever really seen Dean's face do that before (or his own, for that matter, you didn't often see your own face looking Death in the face, okay?), so he had no frame of reference.

"Hi," Priestly tried. "I'm Priestly."

Staring obliviously at Death? Yeah, that was sort of Priestly in a nutshell.

It was his thing!

"Yes," Death said, picking a piece of lettuce off the burger delicately. "I know. Do you have fries?"

"Yeah." Dean jerked his head toward the kitchen to get Priestly to come with him. "I'll make some."

"Dude, if you want to talk to your friend, I can get the fries," Priestly tried.

Yeah, his world didn't have an anthropomorphic representation of death. So he was completely failing at identifying the waves of forboding coming off of Dean's "friend".

...you're the worst, Priestly. The worst.

"Sure." Just make them the best fries ever.

Priestly made amazing fries, okay? A. Mazing.

"Here you guys go, one order of fresh, hot fries."

Just ignore how Dean held his breath at what kind of reaction they would get. Because c'mon.

Death inspected the fries for a moment before taking one. Then, after chewing and swallowing it, proclaimed, "Nice."

It might have seemed like faint praise, but it caused Dean to exhale.

And now Priestly was wondering if this guy was Dean's not-boyfriend's father.

. . . Except wait, if not-boyfriend was an angel, did that make this guy God?

"Uh, thanks."

Dean's universe was so weird.

No, God was a no-show.

"Keep in mind what we talked about, Dean," he said, taking another fry before ceasing to be there. He had better things to do than chat with Winchesters and Winchester clones.

Dean sighed, slumping forward against the counter top. "I hate this freakin' weekend."

Priestly stared at the empty seat.

"Dude. You have the weirdest friends."

"Yeah, the ones that are still alive." IF IT EVEN COUNTED WITH THAT GUY.

"Mr. Creepy another angel buddy?"

"Mr. Creepy is Death. As in the horseman."

Priestly rolled his eyes. "No, seriously, who was he?"

Dean stared at him. Because his life.

His life.

"You're not kidding." It took him awhile, but Priestly got there eventually. ". . . at least he liked my fries."

"Yeah," Dean replied with a huff. "He let Chicago stay because he liked the pizza."

Well, to be frank, it was damn good pizza.

God I want cake.

And now I want a burger, dang it.

DEATH BURGERS!

mmmm...tasty, tasty death burgers!

Also, I'm really disappointed I never had a chance to get Hannibal to meet Death. *G*

Next time! Because Death is too much fun to pass up.

Death was awesome! ♥

...Things you never think you'll type.

SQUEE.

DEATH.

DEATH!! NOT ON A HORSE! *GLEE*

His pale horse is a Cadillac, thank you!

500 horses! Yes!

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Luke's, Sunday Evening

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