Bring Me A Dream

Perhaps it isn't too late to find a quaint little farm somewhere, Harry thinks as he leads Death down the streets of New York with their arms linked together. They don't draw too many raised brows, at least not from locals, but there is the occasional ooh-ing and ah-ing from passing tourists. He ignores them in favor of chasing his wistful daydreams. Raise some cattle, tend to my own garden -

"We are what comes after," Death says a bit reproachfully. "It isn't our responsibility to care for the living."

"Except for Wade Wilson, of course," Harry grins widely, waggling his brows at her and discreetly raising his mental barriers. She could be so nosy. "Besides, don't you think I'd make a wonderful farmer? I already have enough experience reaping souls, crops can't be much different." Several passersby give him a strange look for that last one. He waves at them cheerfully.

"Do what you will, so long as you complete your duties."

"Isn't it my duty to give you orders?"

Her lips twitch in what could've been a smile. "You've yet to do so, Master."

"Well, I'll have to rectify that, won't I?" Harry retorts, rolling his eyes. "Ask and you shall receive, my dear."

They continue down their path in companionable silence, Harry taking in the sights of a bustling city and Death uninterested in the oddities he points out to her. Really, he doesn't understand why she doesn't share in his curiosity when, look, a street performer is juggling six turtles! While hopping! Or look, look, there's an apparent car chase rushing past them, complete with blaring police sirens and gunfire! And now there's a red-and-blue dressed man swinging after that, holding a few pizza boxes in hand!

"Look at them go!" Harry exclaims, eyes twinkling. "What sort of human do you suppose that was?"

"A mutant," Death deadpans, raising a brow as if to say 'you should know this'. "Not unlike my beloved."

At the not-so-subtle reminder of their current mission, Harry smothers a laugh at the impatient look that crosses her features. He takes a moment to admire his handiwork - because Death really is quite the stunning woman, from an abstract, paternal sort of perspective - then Harry acquiesces and gets back on track. After that, they don't come across any more noteworthy oddities until they arrive at their destination, where Wade himself is lingering just outside a questionable Mexican establishment. The human is just across the street and hasn't noticed them yet, gesturing wildly and (most likely) arguing with himself.

Harry hears Death's breath hitch, and he ignores how her hold on his arm tightens enough so that her nails dig burrows into his skin.

"Wait here," he orders smugly.

Her head whips toward him in an unnaturally quick motion, more birdlike than human, and it does more to convey her incredulity than she likely realizes.

"Don't get your panties in a twist," he manages to utter, gleeful despite the roiling uneasiness taking refuge in his stomach. It's worth it. "You'll meet your beloved in a few minutes. Just let me introduce you."

Death inclines her head, calming even as her eyes seem smug. "As you say, Master."

"That was weird," Harry makes a face, extracting his much abused arm from her vice-like grip. "You actually listening to me - it feels weird. I don't like it."

"How peculiar," she smiles secretively, the barest amount of teeth glinting.

Feeling very much like the butt of a joke, Harry narrows his eyes. He makes a v-sign with his forefinger and middle finger, raising it to his eyes then back at her in the universal 'I'm watching you' gesture, but then sighs in defeat. He nearly throws his hands in the air, but he's lost enough dignity today. "Alright, alright, you've made your point. Even the Master of Death cannot fully command you."

Death's smile eases into something softer, almost fond. "As you say, Master."

The way she says it is odd, but Harry brushes it off and says, "Well, come on then. Let's go claim your human."

Said human is pacing back and forth, muttering to himself, as they make their way across the street. Harry manages to catch the tail end of it.

"- let us do that. We're besties!" There's a pause, and Wade tilts his head like he's listening to someone. Then he snickers. "As long as we don't kill anybody, we're golden! Spidey never said anything about maiming -"

He cuts himself off when he turns and sees Harry first.

"You!"

Before he can respond, Death steps forward with a pointed focus he's only ever seen when she's personally reaping a soul.

Understandably enough, the human seems to have instinctively frozen in place, masked eyes comically wide as Death continues forward, raising her arms to rest her hands against his too-still chest. Wade visibly begins trembling the moment she touches him, and the man's breathing kicks up a notch as her fingers elegantly glide up to cradle his masked face. Death pets her human gently, as if frightened he would vanish at any moment, and her expression suitably matches her wonder.

"Wade," She breathes the name like a caress, eyes fluttering and lips curving shyly. "I thought it was about time I paid you a visit."

Death pushes his mask up to his nose, exposing diseased skin, and kisses him.

And the human promptly collapses, dead.

A breathless moment passes before Death slowly turns to face him and raises a brow, one of the human gestures she's grown particularly fond of, and he feels a chill run down his spine. Harry petulantly thinks that he might've done too well with her features - while distinctly feminine, her expressions do well to convey the sharpness and intensity that he only sensed before she had a face. In short, Death is somehow more intimidating now that he can see and feel her displeasure.

Nervously glancing between Death and her human's corpse, he winces.

"I can fix it."