Adam stood beside the chair, watching Death in quiet amusement as the Shade repeatedly dropped his head on the desk with a 'thump'. After several repetitions, Adam shook his head slightly and moved to sit in the chair.

"As much as I would be quite willing to let you brain yourself, there is still the small matter of curing my immortality – I would rather you preserve what little brain matter you have for the effort."

The 'thumping' stopped as Death let his head lie on the desk. "Do you know how many people have died?"

"Tens of millions."

"More."He lifted his head to glare at his guest. "And I must find but one soul in that."He pointed at the door that led to the afterlife.

Adam stared at him for a moment and then glanced at the door. "You are implying that you sent someone into the afterlife and now must fetch them back."

He grit his teeth, dropping his head again.

"But is that not impossible? You have always said that is the door to permanent death."

"It is only impossible for the soul to return alone – I may escort whom and what I wish." He sat up and leaned back in his seat with an exasperated sigh. "And this I bloody well do not wish."

"Then why return him? You are Death, after all."

"'Death, be not proud – thou art slave to fate, chance, kings, and desperate men...' Yes, I am Death; but there is still Life." He grimaced."And he says that I return the man to him."

Adam considered the Shade, a smile resting lightly on his face as he gestured towards the door. "Far be it from me to keep your from your task – onwards."

He lifted his head, glaring at the Immortal. "Ten million souls."

Adam shrugged. "There may be one hundred times ten million."

"Exactly."

"Then be thankful you've only to find one soul amongst those."

The Shade gaped at him for a moment before spitting out several long sentences in another language.

"I am still fluent in Latin, Death; however unflattering the terminology used may be."

He snatched up his pen, still muttering in Latin as black mist enveloped him.

Adam watched in interest as the smoke fell away from the Shade to reveal Death in his traditional Reaper garments, his bony fingers clutched around the staff of the scythe.

"Fitting that Death should speak a dead language... Must you scare the man to death all over again?"

"Si scirem adhuc exspectatis ut acquireret sibi vivere rursus exortum, tunc meretur."

Adam shook his head slightly. "Temper, temper..."

"Mortuus est! Quid vis ut faciam ei?"

"Perhaps that choice of words is incorrect perhaps 'tis better phrased as 'quid faciat mihi homo', or what more can he do to you? He could always kill you in arguable self-defense, and then where would you be?"

Death glared at him, returning to a form of Old English. "Perhaps that would be best for all parties."

"I rather think not - there is still business to be transpired between you and I. But let me not hold you – begone."

"Uno die, et relinquo. Fratrem interficere fortasse - quod perfecte …"

Adam relaxed slightly as the door to the afterlife shut behind Death. He had meant to visit for a bit, but he could spare the time to wait here a little while.

Translations in order:

"If he is idiotic enough to get himself shot again and still expect to live, then he deserves it."

"He is dead! What more can I do to him?"

"One of these days, I will resign. Perhaps provoke my brother to kill me - that would work perfectly..."

AN: The soul to be returned is Daniel Jackson. This is set immediately after/during his death on the Nox planet, where he died. By the way, this is fiction and not how I believe the afterlife works at all. But I love irony, so... The latin comes from Beowulf (well, translated with Google because I can't take it yet...) because I love school. And obviously the 'Old English' is not Old English - just imagine it... 8-25-2015