A little piece of vampire birthday cake

by vicvega66

A romantic, funny one shot for the 'let them eat birthday cake' challenge. Eric Northman is bored so when he meets a gorgeous little red haired journalist things start looking up. An original story using characters from True Blood.

'A little piece of vampire birthday cake'

This is a one shot for the 'let them eat birthday cake' challenge.

My character Lys is all woman and works for a magazine in New York City. Eric is a vampire and is his usual self (well my version anyway.)

This is a story about how they could have met and what might have happened if they did..

Light, fluffy, loveliness for the birthday girl NYCsnowbird.

xxx

Lys's boss had left the office at noon for a lunch date with a very important celebrity. She was rarely available for interviews and wasn't in the country very often if at all. It was a major coup for the magazine to get her to even agree to lunch, there was a lot riding on things going well that afternoon.

Lys had sneaked out of the office as soon as things had quietened down and had taken the opportunity to work from home.

The editor in chief had rung her at 1pm and had kept her on the phone for over an hour. He didn't normally ring her on Friday lunchtime or was usually so nice to her. In fact in the eighteen months she'd been working for 'Mademoiselle' magazine as a junior assistant she'd exchanged ten words with him at most.

'You want me to do what!' she shrieked and dropped the box of cereal she was eating out of onto the floor.

'I want you to go down to Shreveport, Louisiana this weekend and interview Eric Northman for the 'man about town' section of 'Mademoiselle.' It's a cushy job,' he said smoothly, 'we've booked you into the Shreveport Hilton, everything is paid for and you can charge everything else to expenses. Keep all your receipts and be sure to give them to accounts when you get back.'

'I'm a junior assistant, I've never interviewed anyone, I sort out accessories, clothes and shoes for photo shoots and get the senior editor's coffee.' She protested.

There was a long pause, 'No one else is available. We've got a lot of guys on holiday at the moment.'

She looked helplessly at her coffee table, it was covered in fabric swatches, accessories and pictures of shoes and belts and handbags.

'I'm supposed to be organising the clothes for the photo shoot on Monday,' she pleaded.

'Do this as a personal favour to me and I will promote you to the fashion section,' he said sneakily, 'how does junior assistant fashion editor sound?'

She gasped and choked and a spray of coffee nearly hit her laptop keyboard, 'Holy mackerel! Really? Junior assistant fashion editor!' This was beyond her wildest dreams, 'do I get to pick clothes out of the fashion cupboard?'

'Don't get too greedy.' There was a chuckle at the other end of the line, 'you'll get a promotion and a small raise and all you have to do is interview Eric Northman for me.'

'I'll do it! I'll do it! But I'll have to scramble to get a photographer for the interview at this short notice.'

'Northman doesn't want any photographs, his secretary is sending us some stock promotional shots, and he doesn't want anything recorded on tape. You can do shorthand can't you, or don't they teach that in college anymore?'

'Yes I can do shorthand,' she lied through her teeth.

She'd been taken on because she was an ex lingerie model (which the editor had a thing for) and had been screwing the boss at the time. No one had enquired very carefully about her qualifications.

'You're booked on the 4 pm flight, you'd better get a move on,' he said and clicked the call off.

Lys froze for a moment, and then squealed with joy, she was going to do an interview with someone famous at last, stay in a fancy hotel and get to charge it all to the magazine.

XX

She managed to get to the airport ten minutes before the flight desk closed, she checked in hurriedly, boarded the flight with minutes to spare and was shown to her seat by a stewardess with a very sour expression on her face.

The flight to Shreveport was fast and uneventful and she had time to relax a little in between doing some research on the mysterious Mr Eric Northman.

Northman Industries Inc was a large flourishing business headed by Eric Northman and his business partner Pamela Ravenscroft.

Pamela Ravenscroft's face was everywhere, it was at the very top of the official website, the letter head and the corporate brochure. Northman's face was conspicuously absent, in fact there didn't seem to be any pictures of him anywhere.

Lys groaned she'd encountered these kinds of businessmen before; they were usually short, portly, and balding and had hot little eyes and wondering hands. They may have been giants in the boardroom but they were usually mice in the bedroom.

The only thing she could find of any interest on the gossip websites was about Pamela Ravenscroft. She'd had a brief but successful career as a guest columnist for a fashion magazine. She'd been sacked after a very public spat with a high profile and very well connected model at a party for a prominent fashion designer.

Lys fell asleep a few hours into the flight and woke up just as the last few passengers left the plane. She was ushered off it by the same frosty air hostess.

XX

Lys checked in to the Shreveport Hilton and to her utter delight discovered that the suite she'd been given was luxurious; it had a hot tub, a large king size bed and an enormous wall mounted television.

She ordered room service and ran herself a bath. She had plenty of time she decided before she had to go out as she slid into the hot soapy water. A bacon sandwich in one hand and a large gin and tonic in the other. She was soon fast asleep.

XX

Lys arrived at Fangtasia at 8.25; she was exactly 55 minutes late. The car park was slowly filling up and the club was already very busy.

She noticed a very flashy red corvette parked slightly to the right of the main doors, the license plate read; 'vampno1.'

Oh lord! She thought, not only was Northman likely to be short, balding and lecherous, he over compensated with a penis shaped, flashy red car, her heart sank.

She elbowed her way to the front of the queue and flashed her ID at the stern looking doorman. 'Hi,' she said brightly, 'I'm here to interview Mr Eric Northman, he's expecting me.' She flashed her credentials under his nose.

'You are late;' doorman said coldly, 'Mr Northman does not like to be kept waiting. He has other appointments tonight, important appointments.' The doorman looked down his nose at her.

'He's expecting me,' she said firmly, her confidence buoyed up by several large gin and tonics, 'I'll wait inside,' and she pushed past him into the club.

Fangtasia was a riot of bad taste; the walls were painted a deep blood red and were decorated with evil looking weapons of war and random pictures of celebrities wearing fake fangs. Someone had hung black plastic bats from the ceiling.

A red neon sign near the door read 'Fangtasia, the bar with bite.' Lys tried to suppress a giggle, it was an odd place for a business head quarters she thought.

She took a seat at the bar and ordered a 'fangbanger' from the cocktail menu. The barman laid a napkin on the bar (it was covered in black bats and red lips) and presented her the drink with a very toothy grin.

'Good evening,' a cool, soft voice said behind her, 'you must be the journalist from the Mademoiselle magazine, may I see your identification and your credentials?'

Lys turned round and gasped, her initial assumptions had been very, very wrong indeed. Mr Eric Northman was the most handsome man she had ever laid eyes on.

He was very, very tall, broad shouldered and slim hipped and he had the most gorgeous blue eyes she had ever seen. His hair was short and blonde and swept back of his face, she itched to reach up and run her fingers threw it.

He was dressed in a silver grey suit and very tight black shirt which was unbuttoned to just below his smooth, hairless chest.

She covered her intense embarrassment by searching for her ID in her bag. 'I have it somewhere,' she bleated as she finally found it and handed it to him with nerveless fingers.

'You are late Ms Nexus,' he ran her ID though his fingers; she was definitely not what he had been expecting. He'd only agreed to the interview in the first place because Pam had bullied him into it.

'No matter, shall we?' he lead her to a booth, let her settle in then asked calmly, 'do you have set questions for me or do you wish to talk in an more informal manner?' he guessed from her nervous manner that she was a junior reporter.

'I like your suit, is it silk? I would never have thought of teaming grey silk with black cotton but it really works well with your colouring.'

'You wish to talk about my fashion choices?' he nodded as if this made perfect sense, 'my shirts are imported from Italy and my suits come from my tailor in London, England. Shouldn't you be writing this down?'

'Oh yes,' Lys pulled a leather bound notebook and a gold fountain pen from her handbag, 'suits from London, shirts from Italy,' this interview was proving easier than she thought it would be.

She had a sip of her cocktail, only narrowly avoiding poking her eye out with the decorative umbrella. 'These cocktails are very tasty, what's this one called again?'

'It's a 'fangbanger,' he said patiently, 'vodka and cranberry juice with a hint of lime and plenty of crushed ice. I thought of it myself.'

'It's great; you are very clever to have come up with it all by yourself.' She hiccupped discretely into her sleeve, 'I don't drink normally, it plays havoc with my skin,' she put her cocktail on the table and examined his face carefully, 'I can tell you have regular facials and you use a high SPF moisturiser during the day, pale skin is very in this season. Do you drink lots of water?'

Eric leaned back against the banquette and a perplexed look crossed his face, 'I work out regularly and use a good quality moisturiser, but I do not drink water and I am not awake during the day.'

'You should drink lots of water you know and working nights is hell on the complexion. You really need 8 hours sleep a night,' she chided, 'do you mind if I have another cocktail? It's my birthday in three hours time.'

He watched her as she weaved her way unsteadily across the dance floor to the bar. He liked the way she moved and the way her long hair trailed down her back in a curly red wave. She was tiny but curvy and her full, round breasts strained against the pretty floral halter neck dress she was wearing in a delightful way. She had round full hips, a bottom a man could get a good hold of and long slim lightly tanned legs which would look great wrapped round his waist.

'Did your office give you any background material to read on me?' he drummed his fingers on the table in time to the music.

He had been a little bored just recently and having a new plaything would be amusing. This girl was pretty but very dim and would fit the bill perfectly.

Lys shook her head and looked puzzled, 'no, not at all. I did a bit of online research but that didn't come up with very much.'

'So they didn't they tell you anything about me?' a slight smirk rolled round his lips, this was excellent news.

'No, not really. I was given the job at very short notice. It's odd but just recently I've got the impression they wanted to sack me not give me extra work and promote me. The magazine has changed hands you see and the new boss wants to change lots of things. New broom sweeps clean and all that.'

'I see.' A thoughtful look fitted across his face, 'I shall give you a guided tour of Fangtasia that should give you some insight into my operation and give you some excellent background material.'

He sprang to his feet, took her by the hand and led her into the back of Fangtasia.

The first stop was his office, 'this is where I do most of my business,' he ushered her inside and sat her on the couch. 'What's that awful smell and are those blood stains?' she sniffed at the fabric of the couch and recoiled at the vile smell that emanated from it.

'My customers sometimes get nose bleeds; the first aid box is in my desk drawer.'

'That must have been some nose bleed!'

'Human's do bleed a lot.'

'Sorry, what? My editors office is three times the size of this,' she said artlessly, 'and it has a really big window, but this is nice too,' she darted over to his desk and sat on his large leather office chair. She twirled round in it a few times and giggled.

'You should take some notes,' he urged and sat on the edge of his desk, he could see right down the front of her dress. She wasn't wearing any underwear he noted happily.

'Oh right, notes. What should I write?' she chewed the end of her fountain pen. 'Cosy office, dresses well, can design tasty cocktails.' Her face was wreathed in smiles.

'So why don't you tell me how you got into the magazine business?'

'Well I used to be a lingerie model, I worked for department stores and clothing catalogues mostly. I have my portfolio somewhere. Ah! Here it is.'

She handed him a professionally bound leather portfolio, he flipped through the first few pages, 'these pictures are delightful, they are well posed and very pleasing to the eye,' he nudged her on the arm, 'I like the red lingerie on you, it suits you very well.'

'Thanks, the pictures cost an absolute bomb but they were worth it. The red is nice isn't it?' she flipped a page over, 'I worked non stop for two years, it was hard work but I enjoyed it.'

He fingered the bottle of Tabasco sauce on his desk whilst he looked at her slim, elegant, creamy white neck and wondered what she'd taste like. 'Why did you stop?'

'I started getting stress related eczema, I think it was the insane dieting and endless exercise and long hours. I do prefer working for a magazine though, the hours are more regular and at least I get paid every month.' Her stomach rumbled and gurgled, 'sorry, I've not eaten much today.'

He checked the time on his mobile, 'Well as it's officially your birthday I think I should take you out for a meal to celebrate. I know a place near here that you will like.'

'It's not very professional..' she faltered as her stomach rumbled again.

'Nonsense, every journalist knows that the best way to put an interviewee at their ease is to put them in a social setting,' he took her notebook and fountain pen off her and dropped them onto his desk.

'I shall get Pam to write up your notes tomorrow night, she can e-mail the article to your editor when she has finished.'

'I'm only supposed to be in Shreveport for a short while, I don't know if the magazine will pay for any more time.'

'Stay another night, no! Even better, stay for the weekend and then get the early flight on Monday. I will cover it. After all, I want to look as good as possible and only a thorough and probing interview will do that. Shall we eat?' he offered her his arm and she took it and laughed.

'I'll add charming to my notes when I get back.'

Pam bustled into the office and managed to subdue a smirk at the sight of them arm in arm.

Eric said something to her in a language Lys didn't understand, they exchanged a significant look and he winked.

xx

The restaurant was bustling and every table was busy but as soon as the maitre de saw them he took them straight to the VIP area and seated them at an excellent table.

'The young lady will have a bottle of champagne and some canapés to start. I'll have a blood. Bring the lady a menu in about half an hour or so.

'I know what I want already, I'll have the Parma ham and melon balls to start and then I'll have spaghetti carbonara with a side order of garlic bread. Can you bring some more gherkins and some more of those stuffed olive things as well?'

'Very good Miss.'

'One more thing,' Eric leaned over and whispered something into the maitre de's ear.

'Very good Mr Northman.'

'Aren't you having anything to eat Eric?' Lys picked up a piece of bread and nibbled on it.

Eric moved a small flower vase and an oversize menu out of the way so he could see her. 'No, I've eaten already.'

Lys's hair was escaping from its diamante clips and was tumbling down round her face. He longed to pull the clips out of her hair completely and wind a ringlet round his finger as he grazed on her neck.

The waiter placed a tray of canapés on the table with their drinks; Lys picked up a gherkin wrapped a piece of Parma ham around it and ate it with a low moan of pleasure, 'I could eat gherkins all day and all night.' She finished that in one bite then speared a stuffed olive with a cocktail stick.

'That looks just like blood.'

Eric took a sip of his warm blood, 'so it does, eat!' he commanded, 'and while you do I shall tell you a little about me. You see how relaxed I am in a social situation.'

Lys was a good eater and a very good listener; she hung onto his every word, laughed at his jokes and appeared to enjoy his company. By the end of the meal she was positively giddy.

For dessert the maitre de presented her with a huge black forest gateau, it was gaily decorated with twenty two pink candles and a sparkler.

She blew out the candles, made a wish and the whole restaurant clapped and cheered madly.

'This is the best birthday I have ever had,' she reached over the table and kissed him lingeringly on the cheek, 'thank you so much. Do you think they'll let me take the rest of the cake home?'

Eric signalled the maitre de over, slipped him some cash and a few moments later he returned with a cake box which was prettily tied together with a pink ribbon.

'Your birthday is not over yet, come with me.' He took her hand and led her out of the restaurant into the street beyond.

'Where are we going? Your car is parked over there!'

'We are not driving home,' he ducked into an alley behind the restaurant and sat her on a low wall by a dumpster.

'Do you know what I am?' he hadn't been looking forward to this part of the evening.

Lys was delightful company and as sexy as hell and he badly wanted to get her into his bed; if not tonight then certainly very soon.

She rested the cake box on her knee, 'Oh no, you're not gay are you? Darn it! I knew someone who teamed silk suits with black shirts and had such good taste must be gay.'

Eric leaned over her and let his fangs click out, 'I am a vampire,' was all he said and he waited for the horrified reaction.

'My flat mate is a vampire, he's gay and he's camper than a row of tents! Your fangs are a lot prettier than his. His look like a rattlesnakes fangs.'

Eric leaned forward and rested his hands on her shoulders. He laughed till bloody tears ran down his cheeks.

'Come,' he said finally, 'I want to show you something not many mortals have seen before. Put your arms around my neck and hold tight. Prepare for take off!

XX

Lys was absolutely terrified by the flight home, 'I don't like heights,' she shrieked. 'I really do not like heights, please put me down, I know this is supposed to be all romantic and stuff but I am wee-ing my self with fear here!'

'It's not the heights it's the falling you need to worry about,' a gleeful look crossed his face, 'turbulence,' he shouted and bounced her up and down a little.

'This isn't romantic Mr Northman, this is horrible!'

'Eric!' he shouted, surprising a flight of geese that were passing; they honked indignantly and peeled off to the right a little. 'I feel we are well past such formalities,' he shouted above the wind.

'Please put me down. I really need the toilet, all that champagne has gone right through me!'

'Where's your spirit of adventure girl? Look at the stars, aren't they beautiful? And the moon is nearly full, see how it glows in the sky. You would not see that from the earth.'

'I'd much rather see it from the ground, please put me down.'

'We will be at the Shreveport Hilton very soon, I shall land on the heli pad and we can take a lift to my suite from there.'

'You have a suite at the Hilton? So do I, I'm on the 14th floor, which floor are you on?'

'I reside on the top floor in the penthouse suite. The views at night are spectacular.'

'Oh God more heights,' she wriggled in his arms, 'how funny is that! You've been sleeping on top of me all this time,' she hiccupped again and Eric cursed under his breath as he struggled to hold onto her and fly.

'And that sounded awful, I'm really not that kind of girl you know.' She insisted regardless of all the evidence to the contrary.

He turned slightly to adjust for the wind and started his descent. He brought them both down on the heli-pad gracefully and carefully. He brushed some debris off his suit and ran his fingers through his hair.

Lys staggered round in a circle then fell heavily onto her bottom, a low moan escaped from her lips, 'I don't know what was worse, your driving or your flying. You drive like you're being chased by the police and you fly like fighter pilot on speed. Urgh.'

His face darkened, 'you need coffee, come with me!' he took her by the hand and lead her to the lift to his suite.

'My birthday cake is all squished,' a look of sadness settled on her face.

'I shall get you a spoon and you can eat it directly from the box. We still have to complete our interview remember?'

He took her by the hand and led her to the lift, he wouldn't take her to bed tonight (it was too close to dawn) but he would certainly have her in his bed very soon.

xx

Lys called him a week later, 'I've been fired,' she sobbed, 'I spoke to my editor yesterday and he said my article was excellent and insightful but couldn't possibly have been written by me. He called me, and I'm quoting him word for word, 'a dim, dyslexic dingbat with about as much common sense as his dog,' and he fired me on the spot.'

'That is excellent news,' Eric purred down the phone.

'Why is that good news?' I am jobless and if I can't pay my rent I'll be homeless!'

'You will come and work for me and be the PR officer for Northman Industries Inc. You can stay in my guest apartment until you find somewhere more permanent in Shreveport. The salary will be generous, you will have a company car and the perks will be superb.'

He stretched and smiled at the thought of the perks. 'I shall expect you here by Wednesday evening.' He ended the call and buzzed the intercom.

Pam walked into his office holding a stack of paperwork. 'Did the magazine like my article? I thought it was my best work yet.'

'Yes they did, they liked it so much they fired Lys. You should expect a call from them in the next few days offering you a job.'

'Master, you are a devious bastard and I salute you!' In a rare show of affection she kissed him on the cheek. 'A truly devious bastard.'