A/N: Buenos Dias mi Amigos y amigas. Hello from a blast from the past. Recently, I've gone through my old fanfics and began to work through what can stay, what needs to be archived, and what has a lot of potential. Thus my total of 26 stories has been reduced to five, and that which stays is getting work. 'Blood on the Rocks,' was one of those that I read and went, 'has a lot of potential, but needs a complete rewrite.' Thus, here we are! I hope you enjoy the journey as I set it up, and I got a lovely plan for this one as time goes on.
Disclaimer: I do not own True Blood, nor any of the characters affiliated with True Blood. I naturally own the original characters that are not affiliated with True Blood, and are presented in this story.
Ginger Snap and Cinnamon Twist
The sound of glasses clinking, idle chatter, laughter, and the Broncos vs. the Eagles football game rang through the air as two figures lingered at a sports bar called 'The Sports Column' in downtown Denver. The single beer against the first's lips long since had gone flat, and dark blue eyes in her sip traveled idly to the lean red head with curly, copper-colored hair that leaned against the bar top, her ruby lips pursed idly on a lollipop while she sucked it, the stick poking out from her mouth. Donning the red head's form were black skinny jeans with a form-fitting white long sleeve, and a puffy blue vest that fit snuggly. The first woman reached back and flicked back her own brown hair over her shoulder as she sat up straight from her hunch.
With a swallow, the hand she held the beer with would now idly point to the red head, "So, Laur, the new tattoo…" A light southern drawl in her voice lingered within her prompting.
"I thought it was fittin'." 'Laur' stated simply, a Texan twang coating her lips, her shoulders raising and falling idly, "That and you know- supposedly there are some protective warding to it. At least, the lady that did it said so." The bartender behind the counter approached and both paused to look at him, a martini glass with yellow-tinted liquid was placed on a napkin, black sugar brimming the top. Once deposited, he turned away and left them to it. Laurie's delicate, freckled hand moved over to pick it up by the stem before she'd take a sip after yanking the lollipop from her mouth. Her green-eyed gaze turned back to the brunette, "Is there a problem with it, Trace?"
Her compatriot looked away to stare up at the cabinets that hung over the bar, a small frown pulling as her lips. Giving a pregnant pause as she scrunched her nose, Tracie ignored as Laurie soon laced her with a skeptical glare and a quirked coppery brow. The brunette couldn't keep composure for long, and a crooked grin cracked her face as she gave in to a soft chuckle at her now slightly irked partner.
"What?" Laurie prodded with a glower, her bottom lip poking out in a pout, black sugar on it from the glass "…be straight with me. I hate when you leave me with nothing." Her pink tongue darted out to clean her lip off as she set the drink down.
"I never took you as a Supernatural fan, that's all. So I was surprised by it." The older woman laughed, turning on her seat to fully face Laurie and setting her bottle down, she crossed her arms over her black turtle neck, her own form holding a pair of jeans that were accompanied by tightly laced hiking boots. A brown belt strapped around her hips, and a black backpack laid low on the floor. "Look at you though, getting all tatted up."
"Oh ha ha." Laurie would mutter sarcastically, before Tracie shook her head and drug her hand up and through her own hair.
Intrigued, she looked to the white gauze that rested on her partner's healing collar from said tattoo. Studying it, she'd state simply, "We'll have to stock up before you go tackling any demons though." The chuckle faintly in her voice, Laurie flushed and then looked a tad flustered.
"Don't tease me, you'd get it too if-"
"Eh- demons may be sexy, let's be honest here." Tracie stated cutting the line of thought off, "What's his face- Crowley- he seemed like he may be wild in the sheets."
"No, definitely Dean." Laurie shot back, then grasped up her drink to take another long swallow of it, soon setting it back down, she'd turn her back from the rest of the bar to lean on the counter top with her elbows. She'd look back at the tan skinned woman. "Dean would be the best lay, he's known for it throughout the entire series- or at least he's the most active."
"Yes. But Dean," Tracie began, "Has the most shared dick. Likely not in our favor, Girlfriend."
A soft chuckle left Laurie Patrons at that. The two took in sync gulps from their drinks.
"So." Tracie would begin, slapping down a 10-dollar bill for the beer and tip, "Is it healing well at least?"
"Yeah, it's not peeling or itchy yet, and unlike the gnarly skull on your back- it's easy to reach to lotion up and take care of." Laurie noted and teased, drink still in hand. Tracie could only give another chuckle; the two partners falling into silence as Laurie finished off her martini. Soon however, the ginger would give a soft sigh. "So…" she would mimic Tracie's frown and turn her eyes down towards the floor, "about the excess cargo in the trunk. We naturally can't have it there when we take the car back to the rental company."
"Hmmm." The older of the two looked up to the ceiling as she'd turn towards the crowd and lean back against the bar, gaze flicking to the many faces that were glued to one of the many big screens in the 'Column. Reaching up and scratching at her jaw, she'd state, "We'll make sure it's taken care of appropriately before we head back. After all, we can't miss the plane out." Laurie gave a nod in agreement. Setting down a 20-dollar bill, she would grab her purse from the bar. Tracie would swoop down as she hopped off her bar stool to grab her own backpack off the floor and swing it expertly onto her back.
At her full height, the height difference between the two was apparent. Tracie was far stockier and curvier than Laurie's own tall, yet tight form. The two women politely bid the bartender good night before they began their way out. Once in the cool, mile-high city air however, Laurie, who couldn't' stay silent long, would pipe up again, "Think we can get ice teas once back in Shreveport? I could kill for some good ice tea."
Tracie simply shook her head as yank a hairband off her wrist, place it in her mouth, then begin to pull her hair back before tying it up with the band in a pony tail. "All that sugar is going to kill you, or at least give you cavities."
"Shut up Adams, you know you want it." Laurie would mutter, her hand coming out and the back of it playfully smacking her cohort on the arm, a smirk playing at her lips.
"Yeah Laurie, like a holes in the neck."
Sometime later, under the cover of trees and with only the full moon as the other witness, a screaming curse ripped through the air, followed by a gunshot. A lit cigarette sat idly in Tracie's mouth as she stared up at the star lit sky while she waited in the Foothill Mountains that lay right before the Rockies. Her arms once again crossed over her chest, and her stance wide to keep her firmly balanced. The soft grunting of her partner now maneuvering a dead man's corpse falling to a background noise as the murderous werewolf they had picked up in Amarillo, Texas was put to rest. The soon, soft crinkling of plastic also informed her that the tarp they had picked up from Home Depot that morning was also being put to its intended use. The older woman gave a smoky sigh, watching as the smoke twirled up into the air and danced entertainingly in the full moon's light.
With her partner at work, Tracie's mind quietly turned to Laurie Patrons, thinking about her partner and here position as werewolf, were-panther, and were-'anything you could think of under the sun,' specialist. There after all was no denying, Laurie did good work. She was as skilled as any hunter or trapper in tracking, locating, and crossing out their intended targets.
Granted, when they were younger, they had been apprehensive and butted heads like nothing else- after all, most hunters were prideful and if they were still alive, had good standing on 'who was the best,' but after a few years of sitting side saddle to the other, many bloody fist fights and a few drunken brawls from that one bloody scene that was just 'too much to handle,' rivalries had turned into cohesiveness, and left behind a rather nice, iron-clad partnership.
Given their choices of hunting partners getting slimmer by the day since the Great Revelation, Tracie could not deny she had become very thankful for Laurie's other-field skills and over-all sassy presence. Not to mention, Tracie could barely stand tracking down Weres…
The brunette turned on her heels, breaking from her thoughts as she marched past the car. A blue Hyundai Accent, specifically picked for its wide trunk space. Once she arrived where her partner had wandered off too, she dropped her arms from their cross as she watched the woman try to wrap the body of a now, very much dead, fully-grown man with a plastic tarp. A roll of gorilla tape down at her feet.
"Need a hand, Pat?"
"If you don't mind, M'adams."
Tracie's nose scrunched at the nickname but she shrugged, moving forward to assist. Wandering to his legs, she'd wait for Laurie to flip him one more time, fully wrapping him in the bloodied tarp, before Tracie then grasped the gorilla tape from the ground. Silently, she'd begin to wrap his legs at the ankles.
"So I think we should take him down by the river, weigh him down, and then let him sink." Laurie suggested, as she'd lift the thighs to be bound next. Tracie's lips pursed as she continued binding the corpse next at the knees, but listened on. "Leave him open at the top for the fish." The crack of tape being ripped from the roll with each little length necessary to bind the poor bastard in plastic took to the air, as Laurie's partner remained silent.
Once they nearly finished encasing the dead were though, the brunette would finally look up from her work. "Well," She'd begin, "that, or we cover him in gasoline and find a nice secluded area to burn him up. That or the closest dump, he could probably be buried nicely in garbage- but someone will find him eventually. Unless we throw him in a compactor."
Laurie shook her head at that, no, that wouldn't work. Next, she would prompt, "Mmmaybe a morgue? There was a morgue close by, wasn't there? Swore we passed one on the way here." Laurie grasped her chin pensively. "Might just be the key thing we need."
As Tracie dropped the head back down to the ground once the last bit of plastic was sealed over it, she'd lick her lips and then give a nod. "Sure. Why not the morgue? I could call Rabbit and get a new profile for him in their system. We'd have a limited window, as he'd need to wipe the video feeds of us bringing our friend here, in, and cleaning him off, aaand we'd owe him for it."
"Well, what kind of payment would he take?" Laurie questioned with a wary glance up towards the moon. Tracie reached below the corpse and slowly began to lift it. With a groan, the smaller woman hefted it up and folded it over her shoulder. With a tilt to her body, she'd began to head back towards the car.
"What else do older, lonely, techie brothers take?" Tracie grumbled, "Probably a date with you or at least like, your underwear." Laurie grimaced and Tracie shrugged, "Hey. Better than watching the compactor get botched up with blood and flesh again, and draw an entire crowd of irritated sanitation works." The thought of it made Tracie also grimace. That had caused them some mighty fine problems with the Were community in Alabama, last time one they had dumped one too many bodies. The evasion and escape had been a massive headache.
As though she sensed the discontent, Laurie jabbed, "Why can't Vampires have bodies once you smoke them?" Shaking her head and placing her hands on her hips as they made it back to the car, she'd continue, "Why explode and become giant mush puddles? It's gross as hell."
Her shorter counterpart gave a nearly bored shrug that jostled the corpse folded over her shoulder. Reaching to the back of the car, Laurie would pop open the trunk for Tracie to shove the corpse back in as the shorter would mutter darkly, "Because that would save on the dry-cleaning, lemon juice, and over all new dye job that is needed after they vomit up blood and explode everywhere." She'd then pull the half-burned cigarette from her mouth to ash it appropriately, turning her head politely away to blow out the smoke.
Laurie would sigh and then shrug, shaking her head. The red head reached in and past the corpse to grasp up a large bottle of hydrogen peroxide and a separate one of bleach before she'd turn on her heel and head back to her kill location. Calling over her shoulder, she'd comment, "A real shame honestly, you used to look really good in white! Innocent even! Like, right fang-bait." Tracie reached up for the trunk of the car and snapped it shut with a sigh before she resumed her position of standing with her arms crossed and looking on. This time however, she leaned a hip against the side of the car and blew a smoky breath out from her nostrils. As the slosh of liquid scored the air, she'd simply cast a gaze back up to the full moon.
"Yes well." She'd reason lowly, "How else are you supposed to lure the psycho ones out?"
"What was that?" Laurie called back over, not quite hearing her. Getting no answer, she'd grumble quietly to herself and frown. Once she finished cleaning the area though, by absolutely destroying the environment, she swiftly walked back and pulled the cigarette from Tracie's mouth with snake-like speed.
"Hey!"
"Shhhh." She'd mutter, and then turn and flick it into a bush.
Tracie watched as a small glow began within the fauna not seconds later, before grimacing once more. "Yeah, great… let's add arson to killing werewolves." She'd reason. If she wasn't careful, the grimace could become a permanent feature in her face. "You tryin' to start a wild fire there, Laur?"
"Yep!" Laurie would state cheerfully, before she'd throw the now empty bottles into the back of the car. They landed right next to their packed duffels and luggage. "Now- let's go ditch the bastard's body. We still got our flight to make."
"Yeah, yeah…" Tracie began, "Don't remind me." A long breath would follow, "…It'll be good to head back home though."
"Says you." It was Laurie's turn to grimace as she'd reach up with clean hands and take fistfuls of her curly hair in emphasis, "I'm not looking forward to what Louisiana humidity will do to my hair."