I own neither Supernatural nor any of the fandoms I cross it with. These drabbles are all written for prompts given to my over on my lj. For the link, see my profile. More prompts are always welcome. I'll get bored enough to write them eventually.

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Supernatural/Highlander

#1: Dean, Methos - Dead men walking. – 310 words

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They meet in a bar, which is actually pretty par for the course for both of them. One lives on the road, the other is more or less a functioning alcoholic and has been for the past thousand years or so.

They sit next to each other, sipping beer, keeping their backs and their eyes on the room. One's looking for a hunt, the other for hunters.

One's got a brother waiting in a motel, the other's got a friend with a couch with his name on it. Neither's quite ready to leave, though.

Eventually, between midnight and morning, one of them gets jostled and spills his beer down the other's pants. He apologizes, gets waved off, pays for the next round. They talk. Weather. Politics. Past loves and recent losses. Anything and everything that doesn't have to do with that brother, that friend, or the weapons they both carry.

Sword. Gun. It's all the same. All made to kill.

They get kicked out eventually, when the bar gets locked up in the wee hours of morning and they wrap their arms around each other to keep steady. It doesn't quite work, but it's the thought that counts, right?

"Ya know," one of them says suddenly, "'M dyin'. Got three months left and then – " he mimes cutting his throat with a single finger and the other man laughs.

"Don't we all, my friend, don't we all."

They split at the next corner, one going straight ahead, the other turning left.

Tomorrow the one that turns left goes to hunt down a lead on how to get out of his deal and hits yet another dead end.

The day after tomorrow the other man gets shot in a mugging, dies and gets back up with nothing but a hole in his shirt to show for it.

They both keep walking.

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