A treat for my readers in between postings of Decisions chapters: So, I wrote this one a LOOOONG time ago, in response to one of the weekly one-shot challenges we used to do (not sure if we still do them or not). Anyhow, I'm not sure why, but I never submitted this in response to the challenge. There's a shout out to two of our Sookieverse gals buried at the end—I ended up finishing it up and allowing them to read it because it mentioned them—and is mostly just silly fun. If you read closely, however, I included one clue that is relevant to the Decisions plot line. I hope you enjoy!
I do not own the Sookie Stackhouse books or characters. All rights belong to Charlaine Harris; I'm just taking her characters out for a bit of a joyride!
"Miami does not have a visitor-friendly airport. At Miami International, a cramped and dingy labyrinth, the message is: Just Try to Find Our Baggage Claim Area!" Sookie chuckled as she read those lines in the e-mail Amelia had sent her. She realized that she really missed her roommate. She hoped that Amelia would finish her business in New Orleans and come back to Bon Temps by the time Sookie returned from her vacation.
"What's so funny Sookie?" Pam called to her from the kitchen.
Those vampires and their ridiculous hearing! Sookie marveled to herself with humorous incredulity at how Pam could hear her giggle quietly to herself over the background noise of the microwave, washing machine and dryer. Privacy was little more than a distant memory with vampires around. She wondered how this would affect her ability to relax and "cut loose" on her vacation.
"Oh nothing," Sookie replied, "It's just Amelia responding to my e-mail. She's so funny!"
"Oh, that's nice. You don't have to yell, you know. I can hear you just fine!" Pam shouted back at Sookie from the kitchen, trying to make her voice audible for the mere human over all of the noise.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Sookie muttered to herself rolling her eyes while laughing internally. That Pam.
As soon as she was done entertaining herself in her own head at Pam's expense, the vampire walked into the living room with a freshly warmed TrueBlood. She glided lazily over to the edge of the loveseat, and perched delicately on the arm closest to Sookie. Sookie couldn't help but observe the supreme grace of Pam's entrance. She'd spent the last few years surrounded by vampires, but was still awed by their physical prowess.
"How is your delicious roommate?" Pam purred. Sookie shot her a "look" and the vampire spread her hands and plastered an innocent expression on her face. "So, have you packed everything yet?" Pam asked before taking a swig of her TrueBlood.
"Yup, all ready to go!" Sookie was confident that she'd remembered to pack everything she was going to need for her vacation. Still, there were so many things to remember . . . she ticked off her list on her fingers one item at a time:
Bathing suit? Check. Multiple sundresses? Check. Underwear? Check. Tennis shoes? Check. Sunglasses? Check. Sunhat? Check. Fancy dress? Check. Dress shoes? Check. Tanning lotion? Check. Books? Check. Shorts? Check. Two v-neck shirts? Check. Deodorant? Check. Makeup? Check. Necklace? Check. Extra emergency outfit in the event of supe attack? Check.
Pam regarded her with a funny expression as she looked up at the ceiling and silently ticked off her list of necessities. "All good," she pronounced. Pam chuckled. "Are you all packed Pam?"
Pam mockingly feigned ticking off her packing list on her right hand. "Yup. All good." She mimicked.
"What time is our flight again?" Sookie asked while glaring at Pam.
"Oh, well we will need to be at the airport by eleven tonight. The flight will leave at midnight."
"Great. So that means we need to leave soon then, huh?" Well, I guess I should check everything around the house one last time since neither Amelia nor Octavia will be here.
Sookie rose from her chair and swept through the kitchen and common areas double-checking that all electrical appliances were unplugged and turned off, and all windows were closed and locked. Check. She thought to herself as she pushed up at the windows in her room.
"Sookie!" She heard Pam calling from out in the living room. "We need to leave now if we're going to make our flight."
"Okay, I'm ready!" She called, and grabbed the royal blue suitcase and overnight bag she'd purchased from her friend Tara's store courtesy of Fangtasia and the Louisiana (well, Louisiana/Nevada) vamps. Her old luggage had been destroyed in the bombing at Rhodes, and Felipe de Castro, the King of Nevada and Louisiana, had sent her a check to cover everything of hers that had been destroyed. She darted out the door with Pam on her heels, and threw her suitcase into the trunk of Pam's car.
. . . .
It wasn't until mid-flight that Sookie started to have reservations about her trip. Thus far her previous trips out of Bon Temps had been accompanied by the inevitable threat (and eventual reality) of a supe-driven crisis. Then again, she'd hardly ever left Bon Temps, and the three times she had in the last few years it was for some sordid (word of the day) business purpose involving supes.
Not this time, she thought to herself. This trip was an all-expense paid vacation courtesy (again) of Felipe de Castro and the Louisiana/Nevada regimes. She even had her very own escort . . . who, at that very moment . . ."Pam, what are you reading?"
When Sookie craned her head to glance at her vampire escort, she couldn't help but notice that the vampire was holding one of her novels. Pam was wordlessly thumbing through the pages, reading five pages in the span of time it would take Sookie to read one.
Pam looked over and smiled at her. "I believe this is one of your novels, Sookie."
"Clearly," Sookie said dryly, "I guess what I'm asking is why you're reading it . . . I mean, you always tease me about my novels." The novel in question was a Nora Roberts romance novel. Sookie could distinctly recall at least three prior occasions where Pam had alluded to Sookie's "less than refined taste in literature." Sookie had promptly reminded Pam that "Dear Abby" was hardly in the running for a Pulitzer.
"Well, I'm on vacation. Besides, it's sort of like bonding isn't it? I mean, according to Dear Abby if we are to be friends then we should have some things in common. You know, something to talk about."
"You're too funny, Pam. We have plenty to talk about don't we? I mean, we can talk about . . . ." Her voice trailed off as she tried to think of subjects she'd like to discuss with Pam. She considered Pam her friend, at least as far as vampires go, but she didn't exactly bare her soul to her.
The longer she thought about it, the more hopeless it seemed. Every possible aspect of her life with which Pam was familiar was an aspect she'd like to avoid discussing—Bill, Quinn, Maenad attacks, the Fellowship of the Sun, Arlene, bombings, murders, plots, plans, foils, near death situations, witch wars, were wars, fangbangers, Fangtasia . . . Eric. The last one caused a knot to form in the pit of her stomach. Well, she wasn't about to think about that unresolved issue. This was her vacation and she was determined to have a good time.
"I think you might be onto something there, Pam." Sookie conceded. "I can't think of anything nice or fun to talk about. That novel might be a good place to start!"
"Or you could start by telling me what you expect to happen on your vacation." Pam quickly replaced the novel she had in her hand with a Frommer's Miami that she pulled out of her carry-on purse sitting at her feet.
"Haven't you ever been there before?" Sookie asked. "I mean, I thought you vampires had been everywhere . . . ." She eyed the touristy book suspiciously. It was something she expected to buy for herself, but she was surprised to see that Pam had purchased a copy.
"Well, I have visited many places . . . including Miami." Pam replied, a touch defensively. "But I'm old. Miami is sure to have changed since I last visited. I'd rather be prepared." She opened the book to a page that appeared to have a listing of restaurants. Sookie noticed that the page had a small plastic flag stuck to it in the top left-hand corner. She tabbed the guidebook? Sookie wondered for a moment whether she was hallucinating.
"You tabbed the guidebook Pam?" She asked incredulously.
"Well, I may be your escort, but I will eventually need to go to ground. You'll need places to eat and things to do. The tabs are color-coded according to your known preferences."
Pam flipped to the inside cover page of the book. Sookie craned her neck to see, and noticed a series of colored flags on the page. "Here is the key," Pam continued. "Blue is something you should find favorable. Red is 'avoid this at all costs' for taste and or safety considerations. Purple is a place that I want to go to, so don't go without me." She flashed Sookie a small, but genuine smile.
When Sookie was too shocked to respond Pam pressed. "I think you'll find it rather useful. And accurate."
"I'm sure I will," came Sookie's eventual reply. "I'm just . . . overwhelmed. I'm just surprised that you'd go to all of this trouble for me."
Pam stiffened a bit at Sookie's last words. Her shift was nearly imperceptible and would have been to someone unfamiliar with vampire demeanor. Pam was also especially adept at hiding her emotions. But, Sookie was familiar enough with vampire demeanor to pick up on the tiny shift.
"What?" Sookie asked. She wasn't sure she wanted to know, but she always had been a slave to her own curiosity.
"Well, it's just that . . . ." Pam hesitated again.
Sookie immediately knew where this was headed. Pam could only have one obvious motivation to act so uncomfortable. Part of Pam wanted Sookie to know the reason for her discomfort. If she didn't, Sookie would have remained ignorant.
"You didn't do this, did you?"
"That is not altogether accurate. I did tab the book."
"But it wasn't your idea."
"Not entirely."
"Argh. Why can't he just leave me alone if he wants to leave me alone?" Sookie knew her voice had taken on a slightly shrill and whiny quality, but she didn't care. She had hoped to make it through her entire vacation without thinking (okay, impossible, but at least without talking) about "him." That's it! She thought to herself. I'll take a page from J.K. Rowling's Harry Potter and call him "You Know Who."
"It's not my place to comment on that Sookie. He gives me orders, and I follow. You and I have spoken about this previously, and I've said all I have to say."
"Well, you can tell You Know Who that as much as I appreciate the things he does for me . . . they're always helpful and considerate . . . I don't appreciate his interfering in my life." Sookie sat back in her seat and closed her eyes. Pam said nothing.
It was pitch black when they began to descend over Miami. Sookie admired the bright lights, but was far more interested in the apparently never-ending black expanse that was the Atlantic Ocean. She'd been to the shore of Mississippi one time in her life, but was nearly too young to remember it. She did remember, however, that she loved the Gulf. She loved its power, and the soothing sounds of the crashing waves. After a childhood of being inundated with peoples' thoughts of things she didn't understand, the gentle crashing of the waves upon the shore was sweet music to her mind.
She was equally excited to see the Atlantic Ocean, and the vibrant life that she had been told had sprung up on its shores. Pam had booked them a room at a very exclusive hotel that catered both to humans and vampires. It had a big pool and multiple bars that stayed open until first dawn.
Sookie had never been much into drinking or partying, but she couldn't help but feel a bit excited at the prospect of spending a week in a city as lively and social as Miami. She was certain Rhodes would pale in comparison. Plus, she was excited to try the local Cuban-American cuisine. Pam had told her it was "to die for"—her exact words accompanied by her typical sarcastic grin.
. . . .
Amelia had definitely been right about Miami International Airport. It was dank and crummy, and hardly user-friendly. Sookie liked to think of herself as an intelligent and competent person, but this place made her feel like a real idiot. She was glad she had Pam with her. She was also glad the airport was fairly empty due to the late hour. She didn't even want to imagine what the airport looked like on a busy day or night.
When Sookie and Pam finally picked up their baggage they fled from the cramped and stagnant corridors of the bowels of the airport. When they finally emerged into the balmy night air, Sookie felt renewed. A gentle breeze rustled the palm trees lining the airport parking lots and bus circles. She could smell the ocean air mixed with the heavy smell of exhaust. It was magic. Well, maybe not magic, but it wasn't Bon Temps and that was enough for her.
The best thing about her trip so far—besides seeing the swaying palm trees and smelling the ocean air—was the taxi cab ride over the bridge across the Biscayne Bay. On all of her previous trips, she had taken some pre-arrange private transportation. Not this time. This was her vacation. While the Louisiana(Nevada) vamps might have paid for her hotel (and airfare . . . oh, and luggage), she was going to pay for everything else (with the check that she had received for her services in Rhodes).
She kept the back windows rolled down, and the salty, humid air seeped in. She stuck her face out of the rolled down window and took in a deep breath. It was so different from the air in Bon Temps. She allowed a small smile to creep over her face at the thought. She loved her home, of course, but she felt so relieved to be away. She thought that if ever she had nothing left to keep her in Bon Temps she would migrate to somewhere on the ocean.
"Pam, isn't this wonderful?" She noticed that Pam had gone into downtime, and that her eyes were fixated on some imaginary point in the distance.
"Yes, it's quite refreshing. In a way."
"In a way?"
"Well, the smell of the exhaust, and all of the dank, murky tributaries and swamps is a little pungent. But, there is something about the shore. It was not until much later in my vampire life that I spent any amount of time at the shore."
"I love it here," Sookie agreed. "I love it here, and I haven't even left the cab yet." She closed her eyes and let the warm air caress her face.
. . . .
Mmmmmm . . . this must be Heaven, Sookie thought to herself as she rolled onto her stomach in order to tan her back. She gave a quick glance up at the sky. Not a single cloud. How wonderful.
"Can I get you another Miami Vice, ma'am?"
"Please, that would be wonderful." Wow. This is service! She thought to herself. She was sprawled out on one of the cushiest and most comfortable lounge chairs she'd ever experienced. She'd discovered these over-sized, padded lounge chairs were a standard feature at upscale Miami hotels, and they came complete with matching umbrellas (which she had rolled up, of course), matching towels, and a staff of young, attractive (Cuban?) men who kept bringing her sweet frozen drinks.
She was kind of sad that Pam had to miss this. She supposed that was the drawback to all of this immortality and supernatural strength that vampires were blessed with. They couldn't enjoy beautifully hot, sunny, and cloudless days. They couldn't enjoy the tingling of sweat as it drips over the skin in response to the scorching summer heat. They couldn't enjoy the sweet, sticky coolness of a slushy Miami Vice.
It was an easy 90 degrees outside, and the sun and humidity were out in full force. In fact, the sun was so hot that even she—Sookie, the sun-tanning extraordinaire—was slathering on 30 SPF suntan lotion. She could feel her skin frying.
She was mid-slather when the sun disappeared for a moment, but just a moment, when two young women threw towels down on the lounge chairs next to hers, blocking her path to the sun. Her skin breathed a brief sigh of relief in the brief reprieve. "Sorry sweetie!" The woman looked over at her apologetically. "Am I blocking your sun?"
Sookie couldn't place the woman's accent, but it was some version of Southern—maybe Texan? "No, no, you're fine. My skin is begging for a break, but I'm stubborn. I love the sun."
"Whew! Good to know. This is my first time to Miami, and I've heard that people can be really protective of their sun here." The woman had a big smile on her face, and a pleasant demeanor. Sookie liked her right away.
"Hi. I'm Sookie Stackhouse." She held out her hand to the other woman.
"Nice to meet you. My name is Summer Meadows. My friends call me Meads or Missie."
"Summer Meadows?" Sookie asked. "That's really pretty, but it sounds kinda like either a hippie or a stripper name or something."
"Ha, that's funny." The woman gave her a kind smile. "This is my friend Roxanne Bird. People usually call her either Rox or Birdie. She doesn't really care either way."
"Nice to meet you, Rox!" Sookie gave her a broad smile. The younger girl gave a quick, shy smile, and a short wave.
"She's really shy," the woman named "Meads" whispered to Sookie. "But, she's really, really funny." She finished in her normal voice. The girl called "Rox" cocked her head to the side and gave Meads a playfully annoyed look.
"So, where are you ladies from?" Sookie was feeling unusually friendly, and though both women were clear broadcasters, they were not thinking anything other than how beautiful the beach was, and how happy they were to be there. It was easy to block out the noise and just have a normal conversation with them.
"Well, I'm from South Texas. I usually go to South Padre Island to hang out, but my friend and I won a free trip! Isn't that exciting?"
When the woman's friend Rox didn't say anything, she continued. "Well, my friend Rox here is from Canada."
"Canada? Wow. That's really far away! How do y'all know each other?" She took another sip of her Miami Vice. She wasn't really a drinker, and when she did drink she stuck to simple gin and tonics, but she'd heard the Miami Vice was the drink to try here. And hey, it was her vacation. Boy, were these things good! She was sipping number three, and was starting to feel a bit tingly, and definitely a bit friendlier.
"Oh, well, we belong to this group of friends online. We chat about really hot actors and we worship vampires, you know, that type of thing. Oh, and we even read and write fanfiction!"
"What's fanfiction?" Sookie asked. She was definitely intrigued by this bubbly woman and her shy friend. She found talking to them easier than it was with most humans.
"Oh, you know, it's when you're a fan of something . . . a movie, or a book . . . and you write your own stories based off of the characters and plot of the books or movies you like."
"That sounds really interesting! What do you all write about?"
This time the cute shy girl spoke up. "Well, we really enjoy writing about vampires. There is this series of books about a human girl who falls in love with a vampire . . . and trouble ensues. It's set in the southern part of the United States, so people call them the Southern Vampire Mysteries. They're really fun, easy reads. You should totally check them out."
"I'll have to do that." Sookie agreed as she smiled and nodded. In her own head, however, she knew the story hit a little too close to home. After all, she was from the South, and she had fallen in love with a vampire. And, she was nothing more than a mere human. Yes, those stories would likely hit a lot too close to home. She wondered if these seemingly fun (and vamp)-loving girls could truly appreciate the difficulties of living a life that was intertwined with vampires and supes.
Sure, vampires are glamorous, sexy, beautiful, and powerful. But she knew the real side. This real side was much darker than most could imagine. She could only think of the fangbangers that Eric employed, and how quickly they realized the pitfalls of working for the undead.
Sookie leaned back in her chair and looked over at Meads and Rox. Both women had finished setting up their lounge chairs, and had ordered drinks from the beach attendant. Both had closed their eyes, and had contented closed-lips smiles on their face as they took in the warmth of the bright Florida sun.
The conversation lulled, and Sookie began to think about her life—the type of life that was the stuff of novels. She wondered what people would think about her if they read a novel about her life. She hardly even knew what to think about herself. So, she decided not to think about it. Instead, she let the gently rhythmic sound of the waves wash over her, and send her into a peaceful waking sleep. This, she thought, is the stuff dreams are made of . . . .