A/N: Hello all, but most importantly, Alison. :-) I wrote you some gratuitous Northman Brother banter. I was going for funny but I'll let you be the judge. I hope you enjoy and get a few smiles out of this silliness. *hugs* Come back to us soon.

This occurs in the future of the Hellcatdom.

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Overcoming Ennui and Other Rainy Day Diversions

(Or)

The Pissed-Off Viking Game

The four of us sat around the living room in silence, accompanied only by D-noz's constant snores and the wash of the rain on the windows. Burger was tapping a single playing card on the coffee table, while Ingmar had his legs slung over the back of the sofa as he stared up at the ceiling fan, his long hair falling past the cushions to the floor. I was on Eric's lap, braiding pieces of his hair, while he, in turn, stared out the window at the storm. The boys were bummed they couldn't surf the high waves. The whole lightning and thunder thing had put a major damper on that particular pipe dream. I giggled.

Get it? Pipe dream. Christ,Sookie, you're telling jokes to yourself. Get a grip, woman.

"Dude. Bored."

"More bored."

"Boredest."

"Whatever. I said it first."

"You want a prize for stating the majorly obvious?"

"No. Just some recognition would be nice."

"Ain't happening, kompis."

"Harsh, bro."

"Still bored!" Eric called from his perch.

"Seriously? You boys are like a bunch of five year-olds."

They all turned to look at me, one slightly more offended than the next, before they gave up on attempting to feel anything other than this insistent ennui and went back to their previous states of doing nothing.

"Nice hair," Ingmar stated to no one. Eric's brows furrowed before picking up one of the many braids that had accumulated all over his head.

"Dude!" He shouted, jumping up and practically throwing me off his lap as he went. He caught me mid flight and pulled me to him before I could even begin to worry about ass-planting it on the coffee table. His impressive reflexes, however, still didn't distract him from his seeming outrage. "What'd you do to my hair, Sookie?"

"Made it pretty," I said, batting my eyelashes. The boys snorted. Eric looked perturbed.

"You seriously didn't notice what I've been doing all this time?"

"No, I just zoned out. It felt nice," he said while picking up another braid and examining my handy work.

I blushed, despite myself.

"Sooks, you can braid my hair if ya like," Ingmar offered while still lying upside down on the couch cushions. Eric growled and tightened his grip on my waist. My eyes widened with surprise and a smile crossed my face as Ingmar laughed. Making Eric jealous was so much fun.

"Let's not play, make the viking pissed game. I can't afford the trip to Ikea for yet another new coffee table," Burger stated in a grumble. He was leaning on his palm, his expression wistful as he looked out at the rain and the break crashing over the jetty in the distance. Ingmar harumphed at the dismissal and folded his arms across his chest. Eric pulled me into his lap again as we sat back down.

"What about Battleship?" I asked, trying to break the sudden silence.

"Nah."

"Don't own it," Eric said.

"Ugh."

"Okay. Um, Clue?"

"Ingmar lost the cards to it when he was seventeen. Bitch."

"Dude, I made new cards."

"Mr. Clean, in the kitchen, shining Colonel Mustard's lead pipe? Yeah. Don't think so."

"Eric thought it was funny."

"Eric was ten. Everything was funny."

"It's still kinda funny," Eric offered with a shrug.

"Traitor! Mr. Clean isn't even part of the game."

"Hence, the funny."

"Okay!" I interrupted. "No Clue. Got it.

"Twister?"

"Are you trying to make me have an aneurysm, woman?"

"What?" I asked innocently.

"Twisting limbs? Falling down onto the floor in compromising positions? My brothers? No."

"Annnnd we're back to the pissed viking," Ingmar lamented. I giggled.

"What's that game where you get put in the closet?"

"Seven minutes in Heaven?"

"Yes!" I exclaimed. "That one."

Burger's eyebrow quirked. "Seriously?"

Eric was already growling beneath me. I could feel the rumbling in his chest. It wasn't an unpleasant sensation. When he started to speak, his words were slow and clipped.

"I repeat. Are you trying to—"

I cut him off. "I meant just for us, silly."

His face immediately calmed. "Oh. Nice!" He jumped up from the chair, taking me with him.

"Hey!" Ingmar and Burger shouted out in unison. "Stop. Right. There." Eric paused and turned. Now it was his turn to raise an eyebrow.

"What?"

"Dude, if we're all gonna be bored. We're ALL gonna be bored. No splinter groups. You're staying right here."

"But..." I begin to explain with my best impression of the sad puppy face. Ingmar was undeterred.

He held up a hand to stop me. "Nope. Sit down. We're stuck in this house together, and I don't want to hear you two wallbanging if I can help it."

Eric grumbled something under his breath about Ingmar's balls and a potato gun as he stalked us back to our abandoned chair. We plopped down with an unceremonious thud and shared a look of utter melancholy; a look that only comes after being cock-blocked. Which had totally just happened.

The rain pelted the windows, the clock ticked and tocked in the kitchen, the dog snored, and a resounding collective sigh echoed throughout the living room. We were back to where we'd started.

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A/N: Thank you Northwoman for the beta love. *hugs*