Not Exactly Human (Eyeballs Remix)

by Woldy

Summary:

"Bossy. Supernatural. Blonde. Seems like your type to me," the raven said.

Chapter 1

Live humans, as a rule, weren't worth bothering with. Dead humans were definitely of interest, especially once they started to go a bit runny, but there weren't any around at the moment. Susan's annual fortnight as Death was the only time you could visit her and reliably expect to snack on any eyeballs.

Still, something about the blonde woman glaring at Susan was unusual. At first glance she looked normal, or as normal as any highly attractive young woman in possession of a dangerous set of curves, not that ravens cared about that. It couldn't quite put it's talon on the reason, but the woman didn't seem like your average bipedal mammal. That was interesting and... suspicious.

The woman sniffed at Susan a few times, the way a dog might, and her eyes narrowed. “You're not quite human.”

Hypocrite, the raven thought. “Caw!” it said instead, and the Death of Rats jumped down from its back.

Susan looked from the blonde woman, to the Death of Rats, and back again. “I'm completely human,” she said calmly. “And now, if you'll excuse me, the Death of Rats is trying to get my attention.”

"SQUEAK," the Death of Rats confirmed.

The blonde woman turned her suspicious gaze on the raven, which ruffled its feathers and endeavored to look innocent, and then on the Death of Rats. She glared at the tiny scythe.

"I'm keeping my eye on you," the woman said, sniffing one last time, then turned and walked away. The set of her shoulders and steady, unhurried pace was familiar, and it clicked in the raven's mind: policeman.

If the Death of Rats had eyebrows, he probably would have raised them. As it was, he pointed his scythe at the woman's back and grinned.

"Don't be ridiculous," said Susan.

"Bossy. Supernatural. Blonde. Seems like your type to me," the raven put in.

"Nobody asked you."

"SQUEAK."

"Or you!" snapped Susan, shifting her shoulders slightly so that the poker in her hand glinted.

"No offense," the raven said quickly, and hopped away.

The Death of Rats turned and they shared a look. Just wait, the look said, when they fall into bed together we'll be the ones who get to tell her grandfather.