Eric n' Sooks - Summer of '69 One-shot Contest
The Man in the Moon with a Spoon
by glamoured69
Characters: TT (Eric, Sookie, Pam)
Disclaimer: I do not own Eric, Sookie, or Pam as they are the property of Charlaine Harris. I am merely taking them out or back, as it were, to play. I hope you will enjoy this little side story into Eric's past and a glimpse into the late 70s disco scene.
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New York City. Neon signs. Bumper to bumper traffic. Millions of people. A city that never slept. The perfect venue for a vampire in 1977. At least, that was my thought at the time. It served me well for several years.
I had finished my series of English as a second language courses at night school and felt I was ready to face this new era, so I watched the humans in this city, frail as they were, go about their activities. I watched, and I learned.
On the June solstice, during my second month employed at Studio 54, something unforeseen and monumental happened that had never happened to me before. I was at the front entrance to the club, standing behind Marc, the doorman, when my gut twisted, and I felt a blood connection almost as powerful as the one I had with my child, Pam, manifest itself. I felt pain, confusion, fear, and countless other emotions coming from someone nearby and knew, with certainty, that the person having those feelings had ingested my blood. More than once. I quickly scanned the crowd of the hopeful club-goers, waiting in line to get in, and saw a young woman collapse to the ground.
Steve Rubell, who had just walked up to join Marc, said sarcastically, "God, just what we need. You, there." He was talking to me. "Thor. Go take care of that and be discreet about it. We don't want our guests disturbed by this...unpleasantness. Take as long as you need."
Only too happy to oblige, I dashed through the crowd and knelt by her side. She was wearing clothes from the time of my mortal years. Had she come from a costumed event? Was this outfit designed to get her noticed and admitted to the club? Who was this woman with my blood?
Whoever she was, she was very...comely. I scooped her up and carried her until I was out of sight of the club-goers, then flew the distance to my car, placing her gently in the passenger seat, and closed the door. I debated whether or not I should take her to a medical facility, but found that I did not wish to. I did not want her out of my sight until I could discover the answers to this blonde enigma sitting at my side.
I broke many human traffic laws that night to get her back to my brownstone. Once back in the fourth floor of my home, I laid her gently on the bed, deeply inhaling her scent in the process. She smelled slightly of smoke, blood, and lavender. She had already had my blood, so a little more would heal her more quickly and get me closer to my goal. Since she was breathing fitfully, I quickly sat down next to her and lifted her up against me so that her head was resting back against my upper chest. I rolled up my sleeve, bit my wrist, and held my wrist to her mouth. She choked a little but was soon sucking gently on my wrist with her eyes still closed. I found myself enjoying the feel of her lips pulling on the little punctures and felt myself tighten with need. Just as her lips stopped their movement on my wrist, I shuddered as I held her in my arms until my cock stopped throbbing. It gave a final twitch, and I moved her so that she was facing me more. My blood, all over her mouth, was a temptation I could not resist. When I had finished cleaning her up, her own tongue darted out and moistened her lips. My stomach clenched again, and I leaned down to kiss her newly moistened lips.
To my surprise and delight, after a moment or two, she began returning my kiss. We kissed for some time, and when she moaned in response, I pulled away and looked down at her. Two blue eyes began to focus on mine, and I saw recognition light hers. She placed a hand on my chest and said, "Eric, you... you're alive."
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Two months earlier
I was perusing the New York Times one evening when a job advertisement caught my eye. "Bouncer. New club. Manhattan. Call...."
I smiled and called the number. There was no polite hello on the other end from the male voice who answered, just, "Calling about the job?"
"Yes," I replied, lifting my eyebrows at the tone.
"Fine. What do you look like?" said the man on the line, slurring his voice a little.
I paused before answering, "Six four, blonde, blue eyes, muscular."
"Well, well, sounds delicious," said the voice after a staccato laugh. "Be here at ten. Wear something sexy. The address is 254 West 54th Street. Don't be late. Ask for Steve."
With that, the conversation was over. I took a quick shower and then blow-dried my hair, leaning over as I did so to make my hair fuller. From my closet, I picked out a red and black snake skin silk shirt, black slacks, and a black blazer. As I tucked in the shirt, I decided to unbutton the shirt most of the way down my chest. I added two gold chains, then turned to my hair. Looking in the mirror, I brushed my hair until it was shining. I started to pull it back into a ponytail but decided that leaving it loose might be considered sexier. Satisfied with what I saw, I grabbed my jacket and went down to my garage.
Just looking at my classic 1965 candy apple red Mustang brought a smile to my face. Cars were mankind's greatest contribution to the world except for indoor plumbing. Electricity was high up on the list as well. I used my sleeve to buff a little spot, then opened the door and poured myself into the driver's seat. I brought the eight cylinders to life with the turn of a key, and pulling out of my garage, I noticed the streetlights were casting shadows on my four-story brownstone as I backed into the street. The light was on in 2B, so I knew my tenants Elizabeth and Jane were home.
When I arrived in Manhattan, I found the address and parked on a nearby street. Once inside the club, I was ushered into the back. I was first in line, since I had arrived early, but had to wait awhile before being summoned to the office. The line had grown behind me to a considerable length as the club's lackey led me into the back office.
"Steve, here's the first one."
Steve was popping two pills and washing them down with a Michelob as I stepped into the office. He set the bottle down on his desk, leaned back in his chair, and looked at me through the small slits in his eyes. The man was clearly drunk or high. A lazy smile formed on his face as he leisurely studied me.
"Lose the jacket," he ordered. I did. "Turn around. No, no. Do it slowly. Yes, that's it." As I turned full circle and was facing him again, he said, "What's your name?"
Over the years, I had gone by many names. Currently, I was going by my Anglicized real name, knowing no one would connect the name unless they were history buffs, so I answered, "Eric. Eric Haraldsson."
In his lazy manner, Steve slurred, "Steve Rubell. I detect an accent. Where are you from?"
"I'm Scandinavian," I replied, feeling no need to explain further.
"Ah. No wonder you look like a Norse god. I'll call you Thor," he declared, giving that staccato laugh again. "Tell me, Thor, do you suck cock?"
Had I just heard him correctly? I raised one eyebrow and simply stated, "Only my own."
He laughed, then sat forward, and called out, "Jeffrey? I know you are lurking in the hallway."
"Yes, Steve?" Jeffrey answered, poking his head back inside the doorframe, looking sheepish.
"Send them all away. Tell Chuck that Thor here, this mountain of delish man, is the new bouncer," said Steve.
Then to me, Steve added, "Welcome to Studio 54."
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The club opened two weeks later on April 26th. Jeffrey told me that they had sent out at least five thousand invitations. Considering the club could not handle more than 600 or so, it might end up being extremely crowded. The lights were already on, and the DJ, Richie Kaczor, was warming up his equipment. There was excitement in the air as the shirtless bartenders readied their area.
Steve walked up to me at a quarter until nine and said, "Are you ready, Thor? This is going to be some party."
"Yes."
"Not much of a talker, are you?" asked Steve.
I looked sideways, down at him, and replied, "No."
"We are going to have a number of female celebrities here nightly, Thor. I know I hired you as a bouncer, but I want you to make sure they have a great time and go home satisfied," said Steve, with emphasis on satisfied. "I'm sure that won't be a problem for you, right?" asked Steve.
"No, sir," I replied, smiling, knowing exactly what he was asking.
"I told you. Call me Steve. Or bitch. Whatever you prefer," Steve laughed as he snaked a hand down and brushed it against my backside. He sighed, murmured, "Pity," then walked to the door to join the doorman, Marc. Chuck, the head of security, nodded his head to me, and I joined Steve and Marc at the door.
Outside, there was already a line formed behind the velvet rope as Steve gave last minute instructions. "Just remember that we need a nice 'salad' mix every night. You'll get a feel for it after a while."
Precisely at nine o'clock, Steve and Marc began selecting humans for entrance to the club. Richie had put on the first selection, "Devil's Gun" by C.J. & Co. The bass and drums began throbbing through the club, and Steve signaled for a few people to come to the front of the line. Several individuals were directed by Steve to the Rubber Room located upstairs, but the more prestigious and outrageously dressed clientele went downstairs to what Steve referred to as the V.I.P. room.
It was slow at first, but by midnight, the club was packed to capacity. Taking all the operation of the club in, I noticed that some of the bartenders were being tipped extra money and were handing out small vials of white powder or pills to some of the clientele. It was done discreetly, but not discreetly enough for me not to notice. Others were placing pills and exchanging them on their tongues with their dance partners as they kissed and danced. The balcony became one of my favorite haunts, where my needs were frequently met.
Later that night, a voluptuous woman with long, flowing, reddish brown hair, came strutting up, bypassing the line of people like she owned the place. She was wearing a skin tight, metallic jumpsuit that flared below the knees. The top of the suit was a halter style that showed off her ample cleavage to perfection. She had a body that would make even Odin sit up and take notice.
"Darling, so lovely to see you again. I almost didn't recognize you without your furs. Still polishing that Golden Globe?" Steve said, and then laughed as he swayed. Since Steve was probably wasted on ludes, I could just imagine that the multi-colored swirls of the fabric she was wearing were probably making his head spin.
She laughed, as her gold hoop earrings mingled with her hair, and said, "You know it."
He kissed both of her cheeks. "So glad you could make our little soiree," he laughed as he finished. When he saw that her attention had turned to me, and noticed that her eyes had widened, Steve said, "Thor, be a dear, won't you? Get our special guest a drink and make her feel welcome," said Steve.
"Thor. Mmmmm. My, you are a big one," she said appreciatively as she put her arm through mine. "Very nice. I wouldn't mind being hammered by you. Come on, darlin'," she said as she led me to the bar.
She ordered a drink, then remarked, as her hand brushed mine, "Your hands are like ice, darlin'. What can I do to warm you up?"
I leaned down, kissed her neck, and whispered in her ear, "Join me upstairs and find out."
I felt her blood speed up, even over the sound of the music. Taking her hand in mine, I pulled her with me as I led her up the stairs, but instead of going to the balcony or the Rubber Room, we continued to the upper floor, to one of the private party rooms that Steve had briefed me on. I turned on the light, which dimly lit the room, closed, and then locked, the door behind us. On one end of the room, there was a large, comfortable sofa, and on the coffee table in front of it, a bottle of champagne was chilling in ice. She sat on the sofa, set her drink down on the table, crossed her legs, and looked up at me expectantly. I opened the champagne, filled an unusually-shaped flute, wider than a normal flute, and passed it to her.
"Aren't you going to pour one for yourself?" she asked, raising her eyebrows, and then pouted petulantly. "I don't like drinking alone."
"Champagne does not... agree with me," I replied as I moved to stand in front of her, and saw her gaze had moved from my face to my chest. I continued, "However, there is nothing about you that does not agree with me." She choked as she took a sip of her champagne, set the flute back on the table, leaned forward, then lifted one colored nail and ran it down my bare chest until she arrived at the lower button. She took the fingers of her other hand and moved them to my right leg, where she could see the outline of my cock, and traced her fingers around the outline. She undid the button of my pants, pulled my shirt out from the waistband, and undid the last few buttons of the shirt. I unbuttoned the sleeves and slowly took off the shirt for her. She ran her hands up and down my chest, then pressed her lips to my skin, where she began kissing below my navel as she unzipped my pants, biting and pulling on the skin there. She moved her teeth to the waistband of my snug-fitting black boxers, and using her hands on either side of my hips, and her teeth, she lowered the boxers slowly down.
Free of its confines, the evidence of my heavy arousal popped up and smacked her in the face, making both of us laugh as she said, "I hope that doesn't give me a black eye." She smiled saucily up at me like some of the barmaids from my human years did back in the day. She picked up the champagne flute, placed her other hand on my cock and lowered it into the golden bubbles. She looked surprised when my width clung thickly to the insides of the flute. She smiled again and began pumping the flute up and down on my cock. The cold, tingly feeling of the bubbly liquid dueled with the heat beginning to form from the friction of the glass. I groaned.
She laughed lightly, withdrew my cock from the glass, set the flute back down, and hurriedly took me into her mouth, just catching the drop of champagne that was ready to drip off the end. She repeated this several times, and I found her warm mouth was doing amazing things to me.
She tired of this after a few times, then took another lick and looked up at me, "Nice hammer."
I smiled and reached down under her hair, unfastened the halter top of her jumpsuit, and bared her to the waist. I quickly kicked off my pants and boxers, along with my shoes, and pushed her back into the cushions, moving with her and down on top of her, crushing my mouth to hers.
Things progressed rapidly at that point, and she lifted her hips up so that I could slide the stretchy fabric down and away from her body, pulling her shoes off as well. She sat up and pushed me backwards to the other edge of the massive sofa, grabbed the flute, and poured champagne down my chest, torso, and over my erect cock. Her tongue followed the liquid, lapping up all of it as she worked her way down. She moved back up my body, positioned herself over me, and lowered herself onto me. She moaned loudly as I filled her.
"Ahhhh," she said. "Damn! You are big."
I smiled and sat up slightly so that I could take her breast into my mouth, and placed my hands on her hips. She began moving. When she was close, I bit into her breast and sucked greedily. I took as much as I dared while she was coming, came with her, then licked her wound to seal it. I bit my tongue and bathed the punctures lightly again so that they would heal before she left. She was too far gone to even realize what I had done to her. I was just pleased that I did not have to glamour her.
"Mmmmm," she said. "You have a magic tongue. A magic hammer, too. Is your name really Thor?"
I smiled and replied, "No. Eric. My name is Eric. Steve calls me Thor. By the way, what is your name?"
She leaned down, her breasts rubbing against my chest, and whispered her name in my ear.
When I got home that night, with a smile on my face, I might add, I dialed Pam's number.
"Hello," she answered in a bored drawl.
"Pam, so good to hear your voice," I said in my native tongue.
"Eric. You sound like you just got laid. I take it that you like New York?" she responded in the same language.
"Oh, yes. That's why I called you. Pack your bags. You have to see this to believe it."
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It was May before Pam joined me in New York and moved into 3B, which had just been vacated. After much begging on their part, I had finally put Elizabeth and Jane on the guest list of the club and told them to arrive early to get a place in line. There was a party for Bianca Jagger's birthday scheduled that night, and she rode into the club on a white horse, followed by a naked man, covered in body paint. Pam was in front of the line; she raised her right eyebrow at the antics and looked at me.
I smiled back in an "I told you so" manner, and she rolled her eyes. Marc loved Pam's short pink and white mini dress, white fishnet stockings, and white patent leather boots, and ushered her in immediately. She beamed at me, and I shrugged as she came to stand beside me.
"You look very sixties, Pam."
"Thank you," she said lazily. "That is what I was going for."
I noticed Elizabeth and Jane as they moved closer to the front of the line. They both looked stunning in gold and black dresses, and I found myself leaning in and glamouring Marc to ensure they would get in. They paid me rent, so they were entitled to have a good time even if they were human.
"Who's the dish?" Pam asked, looking at Elizabeth. "She has the most gorgeous legs I have ever seen."
Eric answered, "One of my tenants."
"Really? Well, this just might be worth my coming after all," she smirked.
I showed Pam around the club, letting her watch the humans gyrating slowly to ABBA's "Money, Money, Money," and drew her attention to the hanging man in the moon with a spoon that the club was famous for, and she was as delighted as I was by the possibilities these hedonists provided for us. We joined a particularly promiscuous group of revelers in one of the upstairs rooms and enjoyed ourselves the rest of the night amongst the sea of lust and limbs.
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I tried to dissuade Pam from starting something up with one of my tenants, but she was determined to have a new pet. I listened to part of the encounter before I went to the club one night. Pam walked downstairs in her bathrobe and knocked on 2B. Elizabeth opened the door and said, "Oh, hello. Pam, isn't it? We met at the club the other night. You're Eric's friend."
"Why yes, I am. You're Elizabeth?" Pam asked.
"Yes," she replied.
"You haven't seen Eric around, have you? I can't get the hot water to work at my flat, and I could kill... am dying for a shower." I shook my head and smiled at her little deception.
"I don't know where Eric is, but you are welcome to use our shower," she said, graciously.
"That would be lovely," smiled Pam but stayed on the other side of the door, waiting for an invitation.
"Come inside," Elizabeth said, and allowed Pam in. "The hallway can be a bit drafty."
"How kind of you to invite me in," Pam smiled triumphantly as I peered around the banister, and she walked by Elizabeth. "Where is your bathroom?"
"First door on the right," Elizabeth pointed as she closed the door.
I heard Pam ask, "Care to join me?"
My child, Pam, was never one to waste words. I smiled to myself and quietly left to go to the club.
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June 1977
"I saw you die on the battlefield, Eric. The sword sliced through your abdomen, and another man struck you from behind. You were betrayed. I tried to get to you, but I couldn't... not in time to let you know what they were planning. Appius must have... thank God, you are here. I didn't lose you."
How did she know how I had died? About Appius? How did I know this woman who seemed to know all about me? How was that possible without me remembering it?
"Shhhhhh," I said, not quite sure what to do with tears, which had always made me feel uncomfortable. I elected to pull her into me, and gently rocked her back and forth. "Somna."
"Jag alska du, Eric. Alska du."
I stilled as she answered me. I looked down at her, and found she was already drifting off to sleep. There was dried blood on one of her hands and on the hem of her dress. I lifted her hand to my nose and smelled my blood. My human blood.
I laid her down on the bedding, and she jerked slightly at the loss of contact.
I needed to talk to Pam.
"You called, Master. I am here," said Pam, obviously displeased at being interrupted with her plaything, as she closed my door behind her, jutting her hip out and putting her hand on it. Her hip hugger bell bottoms and pink halter top, from her latest shopping spree, set off her figure nicely. As she followed me into the bedroom and noticed my sleeping guest, she said, "Well, well." She walked over and sat down on the bed beside the young blonde woman. "Haven't you been busy tonight. Did you save her as a snack for me?"
"Smell her, Pam."
Pam took a whiff and looked, startled, back at me. "Well, other than being a bit ripe, she's got blood on her hand and hem." She sniffed again. "That is your blood, but it is human. How is that possible?"
"Exactly what I would like to know. Do you sense anything else?" I asked her.
I watched Pam study her closely, as she touched her hair and fingered her clothing. "Her clothing is...quaint. From your time, is it not? And there is...there is something else." She looked back at me, raising an eyebrow at me. "She's had your blood, and not just tonight."
"Indeed. You would think I would remember giving my blood to someone. It is more than that. She knows things about me. Things that she could not possibly know. Before she lost consciousness, she claimed that she was there at my mortal death. She knew the name of my maker, Pam. Somehow, this woman... we are... she is my bonded."
"You have my full attention. Tell me more."
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According to my specifications, the floor of the brownstone that I lived in was light tight during the day. I preferred sleeping in a bed to other means used by my kind whenever I could. I curled up next to the young woman and relaxed until dawn, when weariness overtook me. I woke the following evening at dusk and found she was no longer in bed with me.
She was in the kitchen, wearing one of my shirts, bending over and looking into my refrigerator. She looked absolutely delicious, and I felt my fangs come down of their own accord. I had chosen well in my choice of a bonded, it seemed. She turned and gave me a mock scold, closing the door. "Hmphf. Figures you don't have anything to eat around here, when I am starving. You don't even have any synthetic blood. Where are we anyway? This isn't your house in Shreveport. Who's minding the club?"
"The club? What is your interest in the club?" I asked.
"It isn't my interest. It is your club. Is Pam running things while we are gone?"
"Steve and his partner own the club. I only work there. What is your interest with the club? How do you know me?"
She looked puzzled at me, then something crossed over her face. "Oh no. You've lost your memory again." She walked toward me, "What do you remember?"
"You obviously know me, and I... my blood tells me that you are my bonded. Until last night, I had never met you before you appeared at the club and collapsed."
"I... I passed out at Fangtasia?"
"Fangtasia? I do not know this Fangtasia. I work at Studio 54."
"Studio 54? Um... Eric, just exactly where are we? What year is this?"
"New York. 1977."
"Oh, lordy. I think, no, I am actually pretty sure that I am going to be sick here." With that, she dashed to the sink, leaned over, and retched, though nothing came up. After a few moments, she came to herself, turned on the water, and splashed some on her face. She grabbed a towel and wiped her face, then turned, leaning her back against the sink, and gripped her hands on either side of the counter.
"Okay, so let me get this straight. This is 1977?"
I nodded.
"You don't know me?"
Again, I shook my head. "All I know is that we are bonded."
"Well, that is just great. One minute I'm in your house in Shreveport, then I feel all tingly, and as fast as greased lightning, I'm in the dark ages surrounded by Vikings. Now you're telling me I'm in 1977? This is too screwed up for me to handle. I just can't keep doing this."
I closed the distance between us and put my arms around her. When I felt her tremble, I lifted her up and carried her to the living room and sat down on the sofa with her in my lap. She had bathed and smelled of soap, and two needs came quickly to the surface. Thirst and desire. "Tell me about us."
She looked up at me on the verge of tears, "You really don't know, do you?"
"No."
"I'm Sookie. Sookie Stackhouse. I'm your... well... basically... I'm your... we are bonded and pledged, so by vampire standards, we're kind of married."
I took this news under consideration and asked, "When and where did this take place?"
"Thirty-two years from now, in January of 2009, in Shreveport, Louisiana, you are known as Eric Northman, the sheriff of area 5, and you own a club called Fangtasia. We met in 2007, and you hired me because you needed help finding an embezzler. Then we became involved on a personal level a year later."
As she went on, I learned a lot about what I would be doing in my future and about vampires mainstreaming after the great reveal, and I found myself getting even more intrigued by this woman and about the way things would change for my kind. I had begun absentmindedly grazing my thumb on the side of her breast and heard her slight intake of breath, heard her heart speed up, and felt her desire. I looked down at her. So, she was a telepath. Interesting.
She was looking up at me, and I found myself seeing what I must have seen in her thirty odd years from now. "So in the future, we are lovers?" I smiled at her.
She blushed a little and said, "Yes, we are."
"Do you love me in the future?" I asked as I ran my other hand up to her chin.
"Well, I wouldn't trade you in for a farm in Georgia, if that's what you mean. But yes, I care about you. I believe I told you so last night."
"Yes, you did. And how do I feel about you?"
"You told me that you have feelings for me. That, apparently, I am your heart's desire," she answered a little breathlessly.
"And how do you like being my lover?" I asked. Lowering my voice and my face toward her, I captured her lips with mine, not giving her time to answer. I knew I was a good kisser and used my considerable skill to please her.
She moaned and returned my kiss with wholehearted enthusiasm and showed me in no uncertain terms how much she enjoyed being with me. She even knew how to maneuver around my fangs. We kissed for some time as I cupped a breast and played with her nipple through the shirt. As our kissing grew more urgent, she shifted slightly as I caressed the skin of her legs, then I moved my hand to her inner thighs, and slowly upward.
When I found what I was looking for, she arched into my hand, raised up and bit me on the chin. If she only knew how exciting it was for me to have someone bite me. I groaned and ground myself up against her as I pleasured her with my fingers and my thumb. I pulled the collar of the shirt down her shoulder with my other hand and bit her shoulder. She clamped down on my hand, squeezing her thighs together as she road out the wave of her orgasm. I licked the punctures as she fell against me.
Pam let herself into my apartment, interrupting our getting reacquainted moment, and I had only met one of my two needs, as my cock still ached heavily in my jeans. "I brought some food for your human, Eric. I thought she might be hungry." She paused for effect, then said, "Well, it appears that you have worked up her... appetite. I'll just set this on the counter and be on my way."
"Hello, Pam. It is good to see you," said Sookie.
Pam set the paper bag on the counter and gave Sookie a surprised look. "You know me?"
"Of course I do, Pam. You and I are friends."
"Really," Pam drawled. "How nice. Does this mean we can go shopping to find you something decent to wear? Maybe Eric will take you dancing tomorrow night at the club."
"Sure, that would be fun. I love dancing."
"I'll go see if I can find you something of mine to wear while we shop. May I borrow your human, Eric?"
"My name is Sookie, and I am not his human. I belong to myself, thank you very much."
"No need to get peckish. I will be back shortly with the clothes."
When Pam left, Sookie turned to me and placed her hand on the bulge in my pants. "I can't leave you like this, Eric."
"I was hoping you would say that," I smiled shamelessly. "I'd really like to fuck you."
"Well, I don't know if we have time for that right now, but there is something I can do about your condition."
She undid the top fastening, unzipped my jeans, reached down and released me, then pushed me down on the sofa and eased my jeans down over my hips, pulling them off. She spread my legs apart, placed both hands on my cock and licked the tip and slowly down the underside. She moved her lips down to my balls and started nibbling one as she placed both of her hands on my erection and started moving them up and down. When I was getting close, she moved her mouth to my inner thigh and bit into my skin. I immediately came.
By the time Pam had returned, we had concluded our activities to a satisfying completion. As soon as Sookie closed the bedroom door, Pam said, "My, she does smell delectable. So, you were what, sampling the goods?"
"Pam, enough. She and I... we are pledged," I said. Pam was loyal to me, but sometimes she got a bit too...familiar.
"Very well. It is obvious that she knows both of us. What did you find out?" she asked as she adjusted her elastic, pink hair band through her hair.
As I relayed the tale to Pam, I thought she took it surprisingly well, considering. "So, you are telling me that she has been shifting back and forth in time. This is most peculiar. I have not encountered this before. I have seen some odd things in my time, but this just puts all of that to shame. I will need to reflect on this further."
I pulled out my wallet and handed a number of bills to Pam. "Buy her whatever she needs. Include a stunning dress for tomorrow night. Do not forget footwear. Some creative lingerie as well."
"I will," said Pam with a smirk as Sookie came out of the bedroom, wearing the clothes that Pam had provided for her.
"Come along, Sookie. He says 'spend,' so we will buy."
"Isn't it kind of late in the day to go shopping?" asked Sookie.
"Please. This is New York, Sookie. The city never closes down completely," replied Pam as she and Sookie walked toward the door. She grabbed my keys on the way out and informed me that she was taking the Mustang.
"Pam," I called.
"Yes, Eric," she replied, turning back.
"I do not want her dressed like Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis," I requested, then smirked at her. As she started to turn back to the door, I added, "Don't scratch my car."
Pam rolled her eyes and exited the room, saying, "Come on, Sookie."
By the time my two girls returned from their shopping excursion, I was growing impatient. I wanted to spend more time with Sookie. I needed to know more about this odd circumstance we found ourselves in. I was more intrigued by this woman than any woman I had ever met before. To pass the time, I put away the food that Pam had purchased, called the club to let them know I was unable to come in, and waited.
Sookie was excited about her purchases of what she called 'vintage clothing,' when they had returned, and shared the purchases with me, modeling a few of the items. She refused to open the garment bag containing the dress, saying, "Just hold your horses. This is a surprise."
"Am I going to like it?" I asked with a smile.
"You'll just have to wait and see," she retorted, playfully.
"Well, you two have fun," said Pam. "I have plans with 2B."
"Thanks, Pam. It was fun," Sookie call after Pam. "What's 2B?" Sookie asked me after Pam had left.
"Pam has found a new 'friend' named Elizabeth who lives in 2B downstairs. She is one of my tenants."
"Oh, so she's got a girlfriend. Good for Pam," Sookie said. "I haven't seen her with anyone since she stopped seeing my roommate, Amelia."
"Pam was involved with your roommate?" I asked, then smirked back at her. "Interesting. So you are aware that Pam..."
"Swings both ways? Uh huh. I know. We're a bit more enlightened in 2009 about that than they were generally in this time. And about vampires, but still there are always going to be some people that can't tolerate anything strange. There will always be bigots. Leastways, that is what Gran always said."
"Sookie, I think you will be surprised at how enlightened people in this time really are. Studio 54 will be an experience for you."
"I don't care for seeing the club itself, other than for its historic value; I just want to dance. Disco music is really fun to dance to," she said, excitedly.
"Then I will be happy to be your partner. I enjoy dancing, too. Over the centuries, I have learned many dancing styles. We will, what do they say, 'Boogie?'"
"They probably do. We call it partying in my time."
"Then, we will party. Have you eaten tonight?" I asked as she walked by me to sit on the couch next to me.
"Yes, Pam, took me to a little bistro a few blocks away. I'm stuffed. Don't you have to work tonight?" she asked.
"I took a sick day so that you would not be left alone. I also find that I would like to continue where we left off earlier," I said, huskily.
She blushed and put her teeth on her lower lip, and cocked her head to one side. "So you liked what we did earlier?"
"Oh, yes," I replied. "Very much." I moved closer to her and leaned in to sniff her hair, placing my tongue in her ear. Lust, strong and thick, washed through her. She liked that, apparently. I would have to remember that. I smiled and drew her earlobe between my teeth and nibbled on it. She turned her head and crushed her lips to mine, putting her arms around my neck, and pulling me towards her.
We kissed for a considerably long time. It was like just realizing for the first time how fun kissing really was. She tore her lips from mine, and said, "Say it, Eric."
"Say what?" I asked, clueless.
She leaned up and whispered in my ear, and I smiled as she pulled away. "That is what you want to hear?"
"Yes, please," she replied breathlessly, looking up at me, as I leaned her back against the pillows on the sofa.
I looked down at her, smiled, wrinkled up my nose, and purred, "My lover."
I knew the words she wanted to hear had made her wet even before I had removed her clothing. My clothing soon joined hers on the floor. I wanted to take my time with this woman, my bonded. And I did.
----------------------------------------
"Why do I find myself so comfortable with you when, for me, we have only just met? Aside from my blood telling me so, it is as if my body and subconscious know you," I said aloud.
"You really don't remember the weeks we spent together when you were human? In Jorvik, when I was with you?"
"Oddly, no. If, as you say, you and I met in my human life, then why do I have no memory of it?"
"Perhaps you were cursed. Like I mentioned earlier, it has happened before. I met a person or two back then who was certainly capable of it. When you were cursed in the future, you were more like you were when I got to know you in Jorvik. I think that is what drew me to you more than anything when you stayed with me that week, the more human side of you. Well, that, and your butt, which is still my favorite part. If you hadn't joined me in the shower that night, I might not have ever found out just how good we could be together."
"My bottom?" I retorted, wondering how my bottom could possibly outshine my cock. I knew that I was bigger than most and had always prided myself that I could use it to everyone's mutual satisfaction. "That is your favorite part? Why not..."
"We've had this conversation before," she said, gently cutting me off. "There is certainly nothing wrong with your... your equipment. You keep me very satisfied in that department. I just prefer your butt."
I rolled over on top of her and started kissing her again. I felt her hands move to my bottom as she raked her nails over the skin there and heard myself moan at the contact. I was hard again, as it seemed I could not get enough of this woman. "Perhaps I could persuade you otherwise," I murmured against her lips as I rubbed my hard cock against her thighs, stomach, and center.
"Mmmmm...I imagine you can. You can persuade me as many times as you like in as many ways as you like, mister," she murmured as she positioned herself beneath me.
"Good. I like a challenge," I said as I slipped back inside her. She gasped, and I smiled as her mouth fell open, and her blue eyes fluttered closed. I found myself closing my own eyes briefly as the warmth of her passage enclosed my cool, throbbing cock. I opened my eyes again and found her looking up at me as her teeth drew her lower lip into her mouth. I slowly savored her, making love to her languidly, changing up my thrusts as her vocalizations shifted. When her breathing and her blood told me she was close, I began deep, long strokes, pressing upward until I found the right place, and she began to call my name and dig her nails into my bottom. I picked up the pace, and after several deep-throated moans, she bit me on the shoulder and came violently. My body reacted immediately to the pleasure of the bite, the pleasure of the heat generating from her, the pleasure of her reaction, and the buildup of passion between us. I heard myself yell out her name, "Sookie!" I had one of the most amazing orgasms of my long life, and I had not even tasted her blood this time.
I lay on top of her, not wanting to leave her warmth just yet, then moved because I knew I was too heavy for her, and took her with me, so that she was lying prone on top of me. I pulled the sheet up around us to keep her warm. Her perfect breasts were pressed downward into my chest. I was glad that I had the temerity of mind to call in sick so that we could spend this time together. If this is what it was like to have a woman, bonded and pledged, then this was preferable to the empty nights I had been spending at the club or in any other venues in my life. "Tell me more about the other time I was cursed. You said I was different. How so?" I asked after a long silence.
"You were still a strong vampire, mind you, but you were a bit frightened at having no memory of who you were or how you had found yourself running down my road, half-naked that night. You needed me, and I took care of you. It made me feel good to be needed again. Some of your masks that you wear, to protect yourself, were gone. You were more open, more carefree. Don't be angry with me, but I found you were less arrogant than you tend to be at times when you are just being you. We talked and made love, sharing with each other. We were good together."
"The sex was good?" I asked.
"You said, at the time, that it was the best you had ever had."
"And what about for you?"
"Well, to be honest, sex with you has always been incredibly amazing."
I chuckled. She paused in her reflection to trace her finger across my shoulder, then continued, "I remember your children, Eric. From when you were human. For such a wild, crazy-assed bitch, your wife did give you beautiful children, and she seemed to love them very much. It was fun to see you as a father. I know, especially, how much you loved Haeric."
"Yes," I replied.
"Haeric, he had a crush on me, you know," she admitted quietly.
I looked down at her and smiled, "Did he. Well, then, he had good taste."
She raised her head up and looked at me and smiled playfully. "If he hadn't been so young, I could have easily fallen for him instead," she teased.
"Are you trying to provoke me, lover?" I asked, mockingly.
"Maybe. Are you feeling provoked?" she smiled sweetly.
I could not help it. I found myself laughing out loud. She began to laugh with me. It was a very good night.
When Pam arrived, with Sookie in tow, the following night, I was at the door of the club, wearing my zebra print shirt and black slacks, and Arpeggio's "Love and Desire" was playing behind me, After I picked my jaw up off the floor, I saw Marc smile at the two delectable blondes as he ushered them inside. Sookie was wearing her hair flowing loosely down her back and had to have poured herself into the shiny metallic dress with the prismatic print that she was wearing. She wore disco ball earrings and bangle bracelets. The dress had a diamond-shaped area cut out across her chest, which dipped down into a V, showing her ample cleavage. My first thought was that I wanted to take her home and fuck her senseless.
"Eric, close your mouth. You are drooling," said Pam, sarcastically. I gave Pam a look, and she said, "You two have fun. I'm going to mingle."
I could not even tell you what Pam had been wearing as I took Sookie's arm. "So this is Studio 54," she said as she looked around. Liza Minnelli waved at me, and I waved back. "Oh my stars, is that Liza Minnelli?"
"Yes," I replied as Sookie gawked at her. On the way further into the club, we, unfortunately, met several of the women that I had previously 'mingled with' the last couple of months, and they made fools of themselves over me in front of my bonded. As I led her away from my 'following,' Sookie said, "So, I see you have a fangbanger following here as well? Have you... have you had sex with all of them, Eric?"
I found that I had to answer her truthfully, "Many of them. Yes."
She pulled free of my hand and said, "Well, that is just great. How many more of them are we gonna have to deal with tonight? Ten, fifteen, twenty?" She was jealous. I smiled. "Just what do you find so amusing, buster?"
"You are jealous."
"Well, hello? What did you expect? We are pledged. You don't see me running off after other men, do you?"
I pulled her into my arms and said, "It is very exciting for me that you are jealous, lover. You have no need to be. I have not and will not associate with these women with you as my bonded."
She calmed down, blinked, and said, "Well, okay then. Just so that is understood. I won't share you."
"You will not have to. Come with me," I said as I pulled her onto the dance floor. The music switched to "Love to Love You Baby" as we started to dance together. I pulled her to me, and we merged together rhythmically in time to the music. This felt so familiar to me that I almost missed a step. How odd. We danced for over an hour to songs such as "Love Hangover," "Don't Leave Me This Way," "Movin'," "I Love Music," and "Fly, Robin Fly." During "Love Hangover," Sookie twirled around behind one of the narrow squared pillars that served as the base for the floor to ceiling lights interspersed around the club dance floor and peeked around the corner at me, laughing. I took her hand and spun her around again, then pulled her close. She laughed again.
"Oh my God," she said as she stopped suddenly. "That's, oh my God. That's Al Pacino over there. Can we dance closer so that I can see for sure?" I rolled my eyes but managed to lead us in that direction.
"It is. It's him. Jason would just flip if he saw him," she laughed. Sookie picked out a few more stars and was in what she called 'hog heaven.' She finally declared she needed a drink and to rest her feet, so I ordered her a rum and Coke, and we moved to a booth in the balcony to relax. As she sat down, she exclaimed, "You know. It just isn't fair. I am sweating all over the place, and here you are, as cool as a cucumber. My dress is sticking to my body, and the fabric is working its way into my ass. I swear this thing is shrinking."
I sat down next to her, leaned closer and said, loudly so that she would hear me over the music, "I would like to see that, lover. Did you wear underwear tonight?"
"You are a sick man, Eric."
I smirked back at her, enjoying our banter, "So you say."
"You have an uncanny way of maneuvering every conversation back to sex."
I smiled as she picked up her drink and watched her take a sip and then as she placed the cool glass on her cheek and forehead. "Will you be safe here while I check to see if they need me?" I asked.
"Sure. I'll be fine."
I kissed her and left her sitting there. I spotted Pam and nodded my head toward the balcony. We had some trouble at the door which took longer than I expected. When I returned, I noticed that Sookie had finished three more drinks and was a bit tipsy. Pam had joined her and was keeping her company.
"Eric, I swear that I just saw Goldie Hawn and Elton John down there. Can you believe it?"
Pam looked at me and said, "Eric, Sookie and I are going home. She is, well, you can see that she is very... tired."
Tired was not the word I would use for it, but I agreed with Pam. "Thank you, Pam." Sookie got to her feet and nearly fell off the platform shoes that matched her dress. "I guess I am a bit tired," she said, leaning into me. "But this has been so fun. We should do this again."
I kissed her good night and watched her leave with Pam. When I got home, Sookie was curled up in my bed sound asleep. I undressed and climbed in, wrapping myself around her, and relaxed.
We slept through the day together, but she was already up when I arose. I heard her talking on the telephone in the other room and wondered who she could possibly know in New York besides Pam. "A-Adele Stackhouse?" I heard her ask as I pulled on my jeans. I walked to the bedroom door and peered out. She was standing with tears streaming down her face with her other hand covering her mouth as she tried to get control of herself to continue. She did not see me, so I stepped back into the room so that I would not distract her, and listened.
She sniffed, and continued. "You don't know me, but I am calling because I am concerned about your grandchildren. Yes, ma'am. That's right. You heard me correctly. No, I didn't dial the wrong number. I know you don't have grandchildren just yet, but you will. You need to know that your brother, Bartlett Hale, is a pedophile, and if you don't keep him away from your family, he will abuse your granddaughters. No, ma'am. I am not crazy, and I wouldn't make something like this up. Just ask Linda. He abused her. Please, put a stop to it. Just ask her. She'll tell you. I'm afraid that I can't tell you my name. Just know that I am a relative of Fintan's. I know you know who that is. Please, just save your granddaughters some heartache before it starts. Okay? I'm sorry, but I have to go now."
As she placed the receiver down, I heard her say, "I love you, Gran. I miss you."
I heard her sobbing quietly in the living room and found her sitting on the couch with her elbows on her knees and her head in her hands. Sitting down beside her, I placed my hands on her shoulders, trying to comfort her. She moved sideways a bit and curled into my waist, laying her wet cheek against my stomach. I let her cry as I rubbed my hand back and forth over her shoulder. When she stopped crying, I asked gently, "Do you want to talk about it? Is there anything I can do?"
She rose up, wiping her eyes as she sat up, and said, "It's okay. It is going to be alright now. I just kind of rewrote my future a bit, I think."
"I heard what you said. If you find you need to talk, I will listen," I said, running my hand through her hair, by her ear, surprised at the way I felt protective towards her. A human.
"I know you will, Eric," she said, as she put her hand on my cheek and leaned in to kiss me. I wrapped my arms around her. "Someday, I will. I mean, maybe, just maybe, that's why I'm here. To right a wrong. I don't know. Whatever the future holds, whether I stay here or go time surfing again, I want to be where you are. We've been given some time away from Louisiana, away from vampire politics. We have time to get to know each other again. Nothing but time."
As she leaned in to kiss me, I realized she was right. No matter what time we were in, she belonged with me. Somehow I knew this to be true. She would be my lover. Who knows? We might even get a chance to do this again.
The end
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A/N: I would like to thank Galla for her support as beta for this one-shot. Thank you, very much.