Cyber Love | Swanchester AU: Emma and Henry have been living their new
cursedlives in New York for six months. Henry grows worried about his mom’s love life. Without her knowing, he creates a dating profile for her. When she gets matched with Dean Winchester, Henry sets up a face-to-face date for the pair.
“Macaroni and cheese tonight, or pizza?” Emma asked, making sure the crosswalk was clear before they crossed the street. “I figured I could whip up a big pan of those big twisty noodles you like and bake it with some crumbs on top.”
She waited for a response, but none came.
“Or… we could pick up a pie from Royal Pizza and pig out in front of a movie.”
Silence. She could almost hear the imaginary crickets chirping.
“Or I can make some chimera for dinner. That’s one part lion, one part serpent, and one part goat,” she said facetiously, finally looking over her shoulder to face her son and see what had captivated his attention so fully.
Henry shook his head, his eyes still glued to the screen on his phone as he followed her. “I’m listening to you. Mac and cheese.”
Emma slowed down her pace, wrapping her arm around Henry as they continued down the sidewalk. She sighed. “Ya’know kid, we had an agreement when I got you that phone. That you wouldn’t spend all your free time on it and when someone’s speaking to you, you look up.”
“I know, mom,” he replied, finally looking up to meet her gaze. “But it’s a, uh… a project.”
“For school?” Henry hesitated; Emma knew what that meant. “What kind of project?”
He reluctantly handed his phone to his mother. “Before you get mad and yell at me, just hear me out. I’m worried about you, mom.”
“Worried about me?” Emma’s brow creased at her son’s words as they stopped in front of their apartment building’s gate. Finally, she looked down at the screen.
A picture of her.
A few months prior, the mother of one of Henry’s school friends was taking a photography class and asked the pair to volunteer as models. One of the pictures of just Emma was on her son’s phone screen. She scrolled down and began to read the description under the photo.
“Emma Swan. Age: 30 years old. Location: Manhattan, New York, United States. Seeking: Men – wait a minute. Is this a dating site?” Emma asked, shooting her head up toward her son. “Henry, why would you – do you know how dangerous it is to put private information out on the web? We went over this when you got your computer.”
“I know, mom! But you need a boyfriend. You haven’t dated anyone in years.”
Emma sighed, shaking her head as she unlocked the gate and continued toward the building. “First of all, I don’t need a boyfriend. Second, it is neither your job nor your responsibility to worry about my love life. It is not another one of your clever operations that you –“ Henry cringed slightly; Emma groaned. “Oh, you’ve already given it a name, haven’t you?”
“Operation Swan Match,” he said proudly, following his mother as they walked up the stairs. “Come on, mom. You don’t even go out on dates any more. I thought something was going to happen with that Walsh guy when we first moved here, but you pushed him away. You didn’t even give him a chance.”
Emma swallowed. Truth was, she had given him a chance. They’d gone out to lunch, but that’d been as far as it went. Something just didn’t feel right, and Emma had learned a long time ago to trust her gut. She cleared her throat. “I have certain standards, kid. And there’s no shame in that.”
Henry shook his head. “Just give this a shot. Look,” he took the phone from her and scrolled through the site, “I already found this guy who scored a 95% on the personality match. He’s from Kansas, but he travels a lot.”
He handed the phone back to Emma and she gave it a look. “Impala67? What a cheesy username,” she said with a scoff, unlocking their apartment door.
Henry chuckled. “Yours is YellowBug83.”
“Oh,” Emma said, embarrassed. She continued to scroll down his profile. “Dean Winchester. Thirty-five years old.”
“What do you think of his picture?”
Emma scrolled back up and looked at it closer. She shrugged. “He’s handsome, I’ll give him that. A little too blue steel for my taste, but still.”
“What’s blue steel?”
Emma chuckled. “It’s from a movie you’re too young to see yet.”
Henry grinned. “So you like him? Good! Because I already contacted him and he’ll be in town tomorrow with his brother to work on a job.”
“Henry! That’s incredibly dangerous and not to mention a mild form of identity theft. What if this guy is married or stores bodies in his freezer? I’m just not comfortable with the whole online thing.”
“That’s why you’re meeting him this weekend,” Henry said with a satisfied smile. “It’s dinner at that Ostria restaurant tomorrow. I’ve already made plans to spend the night at Tim’s, but I require updates to make sure that you’re safe.”
Emma exhaled deeply as she looked down at the phone screen, and then up at her son. “Fine. But if he turns out to be crazy, you’re grounded. Now, can we get started on dinner already? I’m starving.”
“So, this woman thinks her cat is possessed by a demon,” Sam started, reading through the paper in his hands as he took a sip of his coffee, “because she’s avoiding her, giving her mean glares, and making demonic hissing noises in the middle of the night. That’s the case? That’s why we’re in Manhattan?” he asked his brother, sitting in the seat across from him.
“Mm-hmm,” Dean replied, holding his burger in one hand and his phone in the other.
Sam shook his head, taking another bite of his salad. “Sounds like a regular cat to me. Besides, since when did we start exorcising pets?”
Dean didn’t reply. His phone beeped; the third time in five minutes.
“Dude, you are blowing up. Who is that?”
Dean shrugged. “Just, uh, ya’know, those alert thingys.”
“For what?” Sam asked, creasing his brow.
Throwing his phone on the table, Dean sighed. “Uh, ya’know. Monster stuff.” Sam nodded unconvinced, then reached across the table and snatched his phone. “Woah, hey, come on! No, give it back!”
“Wa-what?” Sam asked, acting innocent. “Why?”
“Because privacy… and stuff.”
“Oh, privacy,” Sam said with a chuckle. He looked down at the screen, his mouth falling. It was the last thing he ever imagined. “You’re on a dating site?”
Dean stayed quiet for a moment, his lips narrowed in a line. Finally, he rose his hands in surrender. “You know what, yeah. Don’t knock it till you try it.”
Sam scrolled through his profile, then laughed. “Nice screen name Dean. Impala67,” he said in a deep voice, mimicking his brother.
“Alright, give it back. Come on.”
Sam continued to look through the site. He clicked on the conversation he was in, “Emma, huh? There are quite a few messages here. They sound pretty serious.”
A defeated sigh left Dean’s lungs as he finally dropped trying to hide it from Sam. He smiled, “Yeah, check out her page.”
Sam opened up her profile. “Wow. She’s actually really pretty. And, well… normal.”
“What does that mean?” Dean asked, his brow furrowing.
“I guess I was just expecting, um… less clothes.”
Dean chuckled, which surprised Sam. Dean didn’t always take dating seriously; his outings with women usually ended when he either ran out of ones or drove off after a night in the sack. The older brother took another sip of his beer before he continued, “Well, that’s how it started. But then I got paired with yellowbug83 and we scored a 95% on the personality match.”
Sam scoffed. “Yeah but that doesn’t exactly count if you use fake information –“ Dean’s brow creased. “Wait, you actually used real answers for this thing? And not just answers that would pair you with as many loose and freaky women as possible?”
“No – but that’s not a bad idea. I should have thought about that.”
Sam shook his head, going back to the phone in his hand to scroll through the woman’s profile. “She actually seems really awesome. Maybe… too awesome?”
“Is that bad?”
“No, it’s not bad. It’s too good to be true for a woman like this to be available.”
Dean scoffed. “I’m sorry, is it so hard to believe that an attractive, red-blooded American female could be interested in someone like me?”
“You realize there’s no guarantee that Emma,” he used air quotes, “is even Emma. I mean, for all we know it could be some Canadian trucker or 70 year old witch disguised as a model look alike. She probably doesn’t even live –“ he looked back down at her profile, rereading where she was located. “Wait a minute, she lives in Manhattan. Emma is the demon cat, isn’t she? We detoured four hours so you could get laid?”
Dean cleared his throat, fidgeting in his seat a little. “I don’t know, uh - hopefully. I mean, we’re gonna go out to dinner tomorrow night at some fancy restaurant. Which reminds me, I need to get the fed suit out of the back and hang it up.”
“Woah, fancy restaurant? Suit? This sounds like a real date.”
“Yeah,” Dean replied, wondering where the confusion was. “You know, I do know how to go on a date, Sammy.” His brother only stared at him, a look of both shock and confusion rest on his face. Dean sighed. “Look, just give me the weekend. I want to at least meet her, okay? The world isn’t gonna end because the Winchesters took a night off.”