Somewhere Only We Know by PersianFreak
Disclaimer: These characters belong to Charlaine Harris, I just consider them my playmates.
Rating: Mature
A/N: So this a new angle I have never seen portrayed in any SVM stories; that isn't to say it doesn't exist, since I'll be the first to admit I tend to stick with reading a certain handful of authors and nothing else. So if this sounds familiar or similar to another story you've read, I plead innocence.
Having said that, I'd love to hear what you guys think. I haven't quite decided where this is going to end up, but in the meantime I figured I'd start posting a chapter every now and then.
Please let me know what you think, I'd love some feedback here =]
You could definitely say that by the time an actual vampire of the non-Halloween variety walked through our doors, I had given up all hope of ever meeting one. It had been three years since vampires came out of the coffin – an expression that made me wince – but you couldn't blame the undead for not bothering to stop by Bon Temps, LA, of all places. Not when New Orleans with its teeming nightlife was a mere five hours away by car, or less I suppose, if the rumours about vampiric super-speeds were true.
The night that I later identified as the night that changed my life was a weeknight in mid-May, though not even the heat could keep me from wearing what my best friend Sam called my city-boy jeans, because they were fitted dark-wash jeans that I'd been wearing with my signature white t-shirt and vest. Mixing some rum and coke's for the folks playing pool, I was entertained to witness their game going to shit as they got progressively more and more liquored up, and I nudged Sam as he walked by me to get a beer for himself. At five feet and ten inches my best friend was still a good half-foot shorter than me, something that had been an issue with us ever since we became friends in grade school. Or not an issue at all, if you looked at it that way, because it had never stopped us becoming like brothers.
"Check it out," I muttered and Sam followed my line of sight to where Arlene was attempting to climb Jason Stackhouse like a pole, probably because Sam had been doing paperwork in the back and I'd pretended to be far busier than I had been behind the bar.
"Did you shoot her down?" Sam asked.
"No, I asked her to go home with me. What do you think?"
"Smartass." He punched me in the bicep and I laughed, handing him a scotch in lieu of the beer he'd been aiming for.
"It's on me."
"Thanks, man. Think Jason is upset that he's always third on her list of potentials?"
I smirked, wiping down the bar. "Think Jason has enough brain power to draw that conclusion?"
"I don't know, women hitting on him is the one thing he pays attention to," Sam shrugged.
"Are you upset that I'm always first on her list?" I asked, batting my eyelashes and laughing when he slapped the back of my head.
"I'm all torn up inside." We fell silent as Arlene's hand ghosted over Jason's cock and his eyes widened as it finally dawned on him that Arlene wasn't just being friendly. Or if she was, her definition of "friends" was the kind that could make a whore blush.
It was at that moment, on a night so filled with familiarity that it was practically non-descript, that she walked into Outlaws' and knocked the well-versed routine of our lives completely out of whack.
The thing was that she slipped in silently, not drawing any attention to herself as she slid into a booth in the corner and busied herself with the menu tucked into the condiments basket.
"Am I losing it or is that a vamp?" Sam muttered and the woman's mouth twitched. It was definitely my turn to hit him.
"She heard you, dumbass." Everybody knew vampires had flawless hearing. I threw down the rag and wiped my hands on my jeans as I headed over, pushing my horn-rimmed glasses up my nose as I went. "Hey there. Welcome to Outlaws', what can I get you?" Up close it became obvious that she was absolutely gorgeous; perfectly curvy with delicate features, full lips and wavy blonde hair that reached her waist. When she spoke her voice was soft and cool, confident, and I wished she would speak more just so I could hear her Southern drawl even though everyone else around these parts had one too.
"Do you have any of that blood substitute?" She looked up from the menu and for a moment as she caught sight of me, her eyes betrayed utter shock before she tamped it down. I shook off the curiosity.
"We sure do. Just got a case of True Blood. What type do you prefer?" Blue eyes raked down my body and her nostrils flared as she inhaled, and I felt like a piece of meat – not objectified like I'd been many times since I'd hit puberty, but literally like I was somebody's dinner.
"That depends on what type you are."
I cleared my throat and gave her a flirty look. "A-negative."
"Sounds perfect," she purred.
"Coming right up. A bottle of A-neg for…?"
"Sookie."
"Just Sookie? As in, Madonna or Sting?"
"Just Sookie." She pursed her lips in what I identified as a smile.
"Nice to meet you, Sookie. I'm Eric." I grinned, adding, "I'll be right back with your drink." Back behind the bar, Sam called me a pussy and I ignored him in favour of heating up a bottle in the microwave.
"Everybody is staring," my best friend muttered and I glanced up discreetly to find he was right. Arlene looked outraged while the rest of her pool-playing, liquor-soaked friends looked on in awe. The dozen or so other residents of Bon Temps were doing their best not to stare, even though I could clearly see Jessica Hamby rapidly texting under the table and whispering to her best friend Missy.
Sometimes, the citizens of Bon Temps had just too damn much time on their hands.
888
I groaned when I came and rolled off, pulling the sheets up to cover us when the air conditioning unit mounted on the wall kicked in. Dawn hummed happily as she rolled onto her stomach and propped herself up on her elbows to smile at me, her brown curls a bigger mess than usual. I couldn't help feeling proud of how thoroughly fucked she looked, since there were literally times when I could barely keep up with her and her overactive libido. She'd told me I was the only one man enough to handle her, which had been a good ego boost if a bit upsetting when one counted all the men she'd slept with.
On second thought, Dawn was like Arlene except not desperate, which made a lot of difference. Besides, her tits were fucking amazing and you could bounce a quarter off her ass, even if her personality left a little something to be desired. That little something being grace and charm, and manners too, sometimes.
Oh, and a heart.
It really was too fucking bad I actually liked her, Sam always muttered when I was around. He wasn't completely off-base either; I didn't mind Dawn. She was good in bed and her attitude I could handle, but only because I didn't want to admit out loud that I was lonely.
"You gonna sleep over?"
That usually meant morning sex. I felt tired just thinking about it; the last remnants of my hard-on rapidly dissipated in seeming agreement, and I shook my head. "There's a beer shipment coming in at eight." I wasn't even lying; this was my punishment for peacing out of Outlaws' three hours before closing to fuck Dawn and leaving Sam to fend for himself. Sometimes, co-owning a business with my best friend was a pain in the ass, though I couldn't really complain since it had become wildly successful; enough that Sam and I both lived quite comfortably and managed to pay a pretty decent wage to all our employees.
"Fine." Dawn pouted.
"I'm sure you can manage without sex for a few hours," I smirked as I pulled on my boxers and glanced around for everything else. My glasses were on the nightstand and with them on I rapidly located my clothes, checking in my pockets to make sure my wallet and phone were still there.
"Why should I manage when I can always find somebody to scratch my itch?"
"Indeed. Jason is always down, or so I hear." That man was the butt of so many of my jokes. It was his fault; he was dumb as a doorknob and sluttier than any Playboy bunny, which was a shame because his Gran was the most fantastic woman I'd ever had the pleasure of meeting.
Now, Dawn scoffed at me for not taking the bait and I gave her a look because she really should know better than that. We had fun but I refused to put up with being mindfucked, and I was lonely but not desperate enough to put up with her shit. Once dressed, I bent down to kiss her cheek and wish her a goodnight, biting back a snarky suggestion that she call me if she couldn't find someone else to 'scratch her itch'. She had so many 'itches', she should get tested, I chuckled to myself as I got on my bike. In bed a while later, I folded my arms under my head and stared up at the ceiling. Sookie the vampire hadn't come into Outlaws' since that night last week, but it was common knowledge that she lived on the outskirts of town. Slowly, the rumour mill ignited by her arrival and continued presence in town had begun to die down, though it didn't take away from the oddity of the whole thing.
With a groan, I recalled the person I had been fantasizing about as I fucked Dawn. I wondered what it would be like, having sex with a cold undead person, to be inside someone who wasn't warm? Part of me was completely put off but a bigger part was absolutely fascinated.
The next day started far too early for my liking, which was anticipated but not any more welcome. The shipment was right on time but our barback Rene was not, so to say I was pissy and exhausted by the time the lunch rush hit would be an understatement.
"Hi, Happy."
"Hi, Dopey," I shot back and Sam raised his brows at me.
"Tough morning after your relaxing night?"
I ignored the jab. "I'm going to fire Rene." And potentially break off my non-relationship with Dawn. I was tired of her attitude, and that squeaky sound she made when she was cumming.
My friend shrugged. "Do what you want, he's a shitty employee. Was he late today?"
"I had to carry the boxes inside this morning," I nodded.
"Tommy is looking for a job," Sam told me with a look that told me he wasn't sure he wanted his brother working for him so it was my job to convince him either way.
"We could give that a try as long as he doesn't think being related to you means he can get away with murder. Honestly, nothing can be as bad as Rene."
Sam gave that some thought. "I could have a talk with him. I'll let you know. He'll be on probation for a couple of weeks so we could see how he's doing and then make a decision."
I nodded as I gingerly rotated my arm to ease off the soreness, switching to the other arm as Tara burst in.
"Hey, bosses." She grinned, eying Sam up and down so I turned my head away from Tara to give him an exaggerated version of the same look. He ignored me.
"Hey Tara." I turned back to smile at her while Sam blushed and tried to relocate his balls.
"Sorry I'm late, I had to go back and get my phone."
"Don't worry about it, it's only a couple minutes past eleven," I patted her shoulder and walked out of the employee break room, leaving Sam to be his adorable little self. Why he didn't just ask her out was a mystery to me.
I checked in with our cook Lafayette who was doing some last minute prep work and he whistled in approval at the wifebeater and khakis I was wearing, a huge step down from what I usually wore.
"You like?"
"I sure do, sweet lips!" He gave his own glossed lips an obnoxious lick and twirled his knife around so I would give him a 360-degree look at my outfit. I winked and smacked my own ass as I walked away, smiling when I heard his laughter following me out. Lafayette was probably the funniest person I knew, and the bravest for being an openly gay black man in backwater Louisiana. Somehow, his fuck-you attitude got him complete acceptance within the local community at least.
Out in the restaurant I took my post at the bar, slicing some lemons for the few drinks I would be serving up to the lunch crowd. At least it was Sam's turn to bartend for dinner, which meant that I could hang around and do my share of the paperwork or take the work home with me and do it on the couch, which I usually preferred. With that thought in mind I brightened up and got through the rest of the day quite easily, chatting with Tara, Holly and Jessica as the lunch rush hit and died out. Tara had the misfortune of being the one waitress to work the gap between lunch and dinner, so when she began wiping down tables and tidying up the menus, I headed to the office where Sam was being a coward.
"I'm going to ask her out for you if you don't do it, you know," I told him as I stretched out on the couch we used for midday catnaps.
"If I wanted to ask her out, I would ask her out," he responded without even looking up from he monitor.
"So you're into the pining-from-a-distance thing? Sam, that girl has wanted you since you hit puberty, and she makes you act like a teenager. Just man up and ask her out already."
"Shh, I'm busy."
I sighed, rolling my eyes before closing them. "At least go out there and keep her company while I take a nap." There was silence and I cracked one eye open to watch Sam do as I told him like he occasionally did.
He burst in ten minutes later and stood over me until I looked at him. "What do you want, Samuel?"
"Did you do this?"
I cast a look around the room. "Did I do what?" I asked cautiously.
"You put her up to this, didn't you? Because I said I wasn't going to ask her out you went behind my back and got her to ask me out?"
"Tara?" I grinned, sitting up. "She asked you out? What'd you say?" He stared at me blankly. "Oh my god, you walked away to come bitch me out, didn't you?"
"I thought you were fucking with me."
"You dumbass! Go tell the girl you'll go out with her!"
"Will I go out with her?" He still looked like the thought of Tara honestly asking him out had never occurred to him.
"Well if you don't, I might just have to kill you with my own bare hands." I sighed and dragged him out to the floor where Tara was absent-mindedly wiping down a table. "Hey T," I called out to get her attention and she looked over, turning to face us when she saw Sam. "He thought I had gotten you to ask him out just to mess with him," I explained and realization dawned on her face, so I pushed Sam in front of me. "I'm going to be in the back, alright? Answer her with your words, Samuel." As I walked away I heard Sam haltingly apologize and I smiled to myself, endlessly entertained by this turn of events. Not that there had ever been a shortage of women who wanted Sam; we'd always been the guys that had never had to chase girls, but Tara had always been shy in order to not draw attention to her tattered clothes and her alcoholic mother. It had been years though, of her quietly crushing on Sam and never having the courage to ask him out while Sam cluelessly dated other girls. It hadn't been until after Tara came back from her first year of college that Sam had really sat up and taken notice; she'd started smiling more openly and being more confident all around, which I knew to be due to all the attention she had gotten from college boys, and so begun their seven-year mutual crush.
And I was completely done with watching them make puppy-dog eyes at each other.
Sam had better fucking say 'yes'.
I was flipping through a catalogue for hardwood and wood-panelling options for the remodel Sam and I were considering when he walked back in, looking rather dazed.
"What's going on?"
"She kissed me."
Internally, I did a little happy jig. I formed a carefully curious expression, "Oh really? How'd that go?" My friend sunk down into the chair across from me. Well, I guess there was my answer. I left him to find Tara wiping down another table, though now with a coy little smile on her face. I smiled too and made sure the bar was also clean and good to go before calling out a goodbye to them both and heading home. As I made my way home I realized I wasn't really in the mood to be alone so I only stopped long enough to shower and change before heading over to the Stackhouse property on Hummingbird Lane. I'd spent a huge amount of time here as a child along with Sam, back when we had been three tiny musketeers with Jason. Our differences grew more prominent as we grew older and our friendship faded, though my affection for Jason's grandmother and sole guardian remained. I could see her peeking out through the curtains as I pulled up behind the house and I parked my bike.
"Eric! Hello sweetheart." She beamed, meeting me on the porch. I bent down to wrap my arms around her and inhale the scent of pecan pie.
"How's my favourite lady?"
"Oh hush," she smacked me. "You know I'm always the same. Come in, come in. What brings you here?"
I followed her inside, "Just thought I'd drop by, see how you're doing."
"Aw, you're sweet. Have you had lunch yet?"
"Depends on what you've got," I winked. I was not about to turn down any of Adele's cooking, or baking. God I hoped there was baking. The heavenly scents wafting from the kitchen led me to believe there would be.
"I just baked a pecan pie and there's cherry peach cobbler in the fridge too." She gave me a knowing smile and began to get out some plates while I got the coffee machine going.
"Oh Adele. Would it be forward of me to ask you to marry me?"
"You're going to have to pay me far more attention for that to happen," she winked and set down a plate with pie and cobbler in front of me.
"I know, I know. I've been really busy." I pouted in what I hoped was a convincing manner and moaned loudly at the first bite of pie. I ended up helping Adele out with some housework that at the age of eighty she could no longer manage herself, not that I minded at all. She was like the grandmother I never had, since mine had both passed before I had been born, and my parents were considerably less affectionate. By the time I was done cleaning the old farmhouse's gutters and dusting the chandelier in the living room it was just past five and Adele insisted I stay for dinner. Twist my arm…
"Need help?"
"No, you just sit there and keep me company," she smiled and set to making her famous Stackhouse fried chicken. After the amazing dinner I helped clean up before deciding to finally leave Adele be. I kissed her wrinkled cheek and gave her a tight hug before jumping on my bike. It was dark out by that point and I wondered if Sookie was up yet, and what a vampire's evening routine was. A smile stretched across my face as I imagined her showering and having a True Blood; domestic things that would be so at odds with what most people would imagine vampires doing. To my surprise I realized I was looking forward to seeing her again, soon.