Author Note: Originally written for a comment_fic prompt.

Hand In Hand

This woman radiates life, so much so that Death wouldn't think she was dead if she weren't Death and knew these things. It's a brightness that she hasn't seen in a long time from a race that usually blinked in and out of her realm, the brightest of fireflies, before finally settling, their light dimmed.

"So this is being dead?" she asks with a luminous, infectious smile.

Death reaches out a hand to her and the woman takes it without hesitation.

Her hand is warm.

"No. Not quite," says Death, returning the smile with one of her own.

"Really? Oh, well that's nice," she says, squeezing Death's hand gently. "I wasn't really done with the being alive part to be honest. Not that here isn't interesting! I like new places. I was a solider, before, but I was thinking that I'd quite like to be an explorer now instead. I'm Jenny, by the way," she adds.

"I know."

She's not the same as the ones that have come before. Her light doesn't burn any less brightly, but it's steadier somehow, slower. This one, it seems, will not blink in and out of Death's realm so much as wander in and out.

"Jenny The Wanderer," Death tells her.

"I like that."

Jenny beams at her, then rises up on her tiptoes and presses her lips to Death's, tasting ofhello and thank you and the joy of living, before she goes to greet the goldfish in their bowl, tugging Death after her by their joined hands.