Phan One Shots - jilliancares

Scones And Cookies

Dan Howell was a busy man, and that's because he was a servant in a manor. He wasn't the only one who worked in the manor, there was also the cook and the coachman, but he was the only one who cleaned and ran errands. It wasn't a small manor either, it's only that it was very exclusive, and so it was difficult to get a job there.

By exclusive, Dan meant that you had to have the Sight. You had to be able to see the demons and underworlders, be able to peel away the glamour that hid whats really there from mundanes. Dan's sight was just as good as any shadowhunter's, which is why he was allowed to work in this manor in the first place.

Dan currently carried a big silver platter on one hand, shifting it uncomfortably to the other. It was a big plate, and it was filled with scones, which made it quite heavy. Still, Dan carried it on one hand up by his shoulder to look proper, should any of the residents happen to see him slacking off otherwise.

It was the third time that week that Phil had requested scones, which Dan could barely understand. Who liked scones so much that they would request them that often? Surely Phil was sure to get sick of them soon?

Dan knocked on the door, which was quickly opened to reveal Phil, the boy who was only slightly older than Dan, and had shaggy black hair that often hung in front of his eyes.

"Your scones, Mr. Lester," Dan said, holding the tray forward and practically pressing it into Phil's hands.

"I've told you to call me Phil. Many times, Dan," Phil said, and Dan had to resist the smile that urged to be upon his face. He had to admit that Phil was the sort of boy who acted as cute as he looked, although Dan would never have any real chance with him. Phil was a shadowhunter, and Dan was a simple servant who happened to have the Sight. Dan would have to accede and become a shadowhunter if he ever wanted to marry Phil, and then there was the fact that they were both boys. The Nephilim were pretty accepting of that, but everyone else in the 1800's were not.

"And I've told you to call me Mr. Howell, Mr. Lester," Dan replied shyly. He really didn't mind that Phil called him by his name, even though it wasn't what was proper. He liked the way his name sounded in Phil's mouth.

"You know us shadowhunters, we don't use those formalities like mundanes," Phil said, and he was right, really. Mundanes, or ordinary people, addressed each other by their last names. If they used their first name, which was more informal, it implied that there was something more between them, as if they were family or in a relationship.

"But I am a mundane," Dan said sadly, and Phil regarded him with curious eyes.

"Would you like not to be?" He asked, and Dan hurriedly stepped away from the door.

"That is personal and improper Mr. Lester, nor does it matter," Dan said firmly, before stepping away from the door and retreating down the hall. Dan's hands shook as they were clenched into fists, and he tried to ignore the thrumming in his heart. He wanted more than anything to be a shadowhunter, but he would never betray his mistress like that. She was so kind and took him in off the streets, he couldn't repay her kindness by becoming one of them and leaving her without a servant. He would seem so ungrateful!

—

It was only the next day when Phil wanted scones once more, and Dan begrudgingly lugged them all the way up the stairs and through the expansive halls to his room, before knocking on the door and waiting patiently. Once more the door swung open almost instantaneously, as if Phil were waiting behind the door.

"Dan!" Phil greeted, smiling widely and leaning against the door jam. This indicated that he wanted to talk, though Dan wasn't sure if he wanted to answer, after all, Phil had been rather rude yesterday. Still, a part of Dan would never pass up a chance to talk to Phil.