Eric and His Great Pumpkin One-shot Contest

Title: Come As You Aren't

Your Pen name: GimmeSomeIceFang (a collaboration between pixiegiggles and fascinatingnewthing)

Characters: Sookie, Eric, Pam, Amelia

Disclaimer: Don't own anything -- just playing:)

A/N: For those not as obsessed with Generation Kill as FNT, here's a quick review of important terms for our fic. :)

The Official GK lexicon: (Thanks Linds!)

A-O(Area of Operations): An A-O can be as large as all of Iraq, or as small as the area around a Marines encampment.

Ass: Marine slang for any weapon system or unit that packs a lot of fire power.

Assault Through: Marine tactic to power through a close ambush.

D.C.U.: Desert Camouflage Uniform

Deck: Keeping with the nautical tradition, anything Marines stand on is the deck

Delta: The reserves

Devil Dog: A Marine

Flack Jacket: Heavy, shrapnal resistant vest

Kill Zone, Kill Box:The area where the enemy hopes to direct, channel, and trap you in order to kill you, or where you hope to do the same to him.

N.J.P. (Non-Judicial Punsihment): Next to a court martial, it's the most severe form of punishment for a Marine. It usually involves a loss of rank and pay-grade.

Oscar Mike: "On the move"

Ranger Graves: Sleeping holes to protect from shrapnal and gunshots

Red-Con One: A loaded weapon with a round in its chamber, but with the safety on

Schwack: To kill

Be what you would seem to be.. or, if you'd like it put more simply.. Never imagine yourself not to be otherwise than what it might appear to others that what you were or might have been was not otherwise than what you had been would have appeared to them to be otherwise.

--Lewis Carroll , "Alice in Wonderland"


It had been a few long, cruel weeks since the bloodshed of the Fae war. Being stuck between the agonizing depression of our dear telepath and the horrid moods it put my master in made it feel more like a few miserable years.

I'd looked up Dear Abby's advice on grief, and it seemed that Sookie was still in the shock and denial stage. She shut herself in her house, and lay dazed in front of the television most of the nights that I went to visit her. I really didn't want to rush her, understanding that she needed time, but this was getting to be too much. Eric's moods were beginning to wreak havoc on business. What really concerned me was that it would soon be Halloween, my master's most anticipated day of the year. I hoped against hope that this business would clear up by then.

I was standing behind the hostess booth, studiously checking my nails, when I suddenly felt something I hadn't felt in entirely too long. Sure, I could still feel anger and sadness through the bond with my master, but there was also a rushing wave of pleasure, desire and...surprise? No, it seemed more like shock, followed by curiosity...then fury.

I rushed back to his office to see if I could understand what might have transpired to cause this reaction, simultaneously taking out my phone and dialing Sookie's number.

It was difficult to contain the violent laughter that threatened to erupt at the sight in front of me.

Eric was standing behind his desk, fists clenched at his sides, his body pitched forward in an effort to control himself. His chair had fallen behind him, indicating he stood up in quite the haste. His head was bent slightly with his shoulder-length golden locks framing his face, not quite hiding the raging lust in his icy blue eyes.

I only had a fraction of a moment to appraise the situation, or rather, to enjoy the quite comical site of a beautiful giant of a Viking god, seemingly riding the waves of intense pleasure without another person in sight.

"Yes" Sookie answered her phone with what had become her usual lazy resignation. In fact, the boredom projected through her voice would have made me jealous but for the fact that I knew that it had come at such a painful price. But today, it was followed by heavy panting, as if she was catching her breath.

My, my, was I interrupting something?

I spun around, lightly closing the office door behind me, and hissed into the phone, "What are you doing? Right now?"

"What?" She asked, sounding disoriented and frustrated.

"You heard me, Sookie. What are you doing to put my master in such a...pleasurable mood?" I asked.

I could hear her gasp in surprise, then pause as she collected herself. "We all have needs, Pam," she huffed in anger. After a moment, she added defensively, "Anyways, I was just watching TV."

"You didn't sound like you were just watching, dear." I couldn't resist having a little fun with her. I could hear the television in the background, but no other voices, so she was obviously alone... with the television. "What are you watching?" I asked, hardly able to keep the smirk out of my voice.

"It's just this mini-series on HBO. You wouldn't like it Pam―there aren't any girls in it!" She responded tartly right before she hung up on me.

I opened the office door abruptly, rushing to tune into HBO on Eric's flat screen television.

"Pamela, really!" Eric sneered from behind me. "Have you lost the ability to knock before you enter?"

I could feel the mischievous grin twitching at the corners of my mouth. Inspiration struck with the beginnings of the most delicious plan for getting both my master and his lover out of their dark funk.

Oh, this was going to be fun.

I smoothed down my stick-straight blonde locks one last time before slipping the blue velvet headband over it. A smile crept across my pink stained lips at the absolute perfection of my plan, and its flawless execution. Our adorable little telepath had always thought that I was the vampire reincarnation of Alice in Wonderland...and this year, I'd decided it would be the perfect disguise.

I had to admit, the costume did suit me. I always prefer pastels, as it sets off my pale skin and fair hair so nicely, but powder blue is by far my favorite. The pastel blue of my Alice smock dress perfectly set off my blue eyes while complimenting my fair coloring.

I licked my lips in giddy anticipation as I walked into the bar, admiring the decorating skills which had transformed Fangtasia into my very own version of Undead Wonderland. Perhaps Fangerland was a better term, I thought with a satisfied chuckle.

I could almost understand my master's peculiar childish excitement that I had witnessed on numerous Dracula Nights of the past, when he seemed perfectly pleased to spend limitless gobs of money in anticipation of his favorite night of the year. This year, I admit, I might have taken advantage of his preoccupation to turn Fangtasia into my own fantasy-land...and it turned out even better than my wildest dreams. Of course, vampires don't dream, but you know what I mean.

I walked over to the buffet table to ensure that all was set up correctly. The colorful mismatched teacups and saucers were stacked in the most enchanting gravity-defying display, ready to be filled with a choice of delicious beverage for our guests, dependent on their breathing status.

Breathers. They make for great, sometimes delicious entertainment, but they can be such a bother, always needing fussy accommodations.

The bar was staffed tonight only with servers that had volunteered as willing donors. I shrugged at the possibility that this might bring on a sexual harassment lawsuit by those employees that didn't express a similar desire. This night was going to be entirely too much fun for such pointless worries.

I looked them over, enjoying tonight's special uniforms. They wore the usual red Fangtasia t-shirts, with the words "DRINK ME" imprinted over the breast instead of the usual logo. Each also wore a black velvet choker necklace, with a gold pendant of their respective blood type dangling from it.

I took a sip of blood, smiling at how elegant the action felt, much more daintily than I had sipped anything for the past few hundred years. Placing the cup back down on the saucer with a charming tinkle, I ran my tongue languidly along my upper lip, licking the blood that remained there. I turned around, sensing my master behind me.

"Down the rabbit hole we go," I muttered to myself with anticipation, stifling a laugh.

I spun around to greet my master. Eric was usually hard to resist, with his tall and well-built 6'4" frame, piercing blue eyes and golden hair. With this costume...well, I was sure that Sookie wouldn't be the only woman in the room that would appreciate my efforts.

"Pamela," He said, adjusting the gun strap on his shoulder. "It looks like you've outdone yourself"

I bowed my head in a respectful gesture to my maker, but not before catching an eyeful of his perfect pecs encased in the tight, white, wife-beater tank top. The unbuttoned military jacket hung open just right, revealing Eric's well-defined chest and abdominal muscles, now rippling in the most delicious way with his amusement. His musical laughter accented by the just-perceptible sound of the dog tags clanking against each other and his glorious chest.

"Yes master," I said, dipping my head down even further until he signaled that I could rise. His relaxed and pleased smile was certainly a sight, even without his silky blond locks flowing around it as usual. I was very surprised that he had so easily agreed to chop it off into Sgt. Colbert's military haircut. Granted, it would just grow back by sunrise, but still, I expected it to be more of a struggle.

The results were quite breathtaking – if you had need of breathing, that is.

It was hard not to jump up and down with glee at the thought of all the things that would make that gorgeous smile even wider tonight. I motioned for a server to bring over a cuppa blood for Eric as I steered him towards the back of the bar. I was positive that this sight would entertain him, and perhaps keep him distracted until his bonded arrived.

"Master, I hope that you enjoy my gift to you on this, your favorite night," I said with a mock curtsy, raising the black velvet curtain to reveal the caged and chained tiger, pacing in helpless irritation. "Our magical Fangerland could not be complete without our very own Cheshire Cat." The sideways smirk that curved the corner of my mouth was no match for the stunning grinning mask that secured the tiger's head like a muzzle.

I looked up in delight at the sound of my master's rolling laughter, his head thrown back in sheer delight.

"Quinn," he said after a moment, the laughter still ringing in his voice, but no longer shaking his beautiful tank-top-clad muscles. "I don't remember giving you permission to enter my territory?"

The tiger growled in a gesture that he surely intended to be menacing, but was only tragically entertaining, muffled as it was by the grinning mask.

Eric turned to me now, an eyebrow raised in authoritative questioning, unable to prevent the amusement from dancing in his eyes.

"Master, I know I did not ask your permission...but I was quite positive that you would enjoy my catty gesture," I said with a pout, only half halfheartedly pretending to sincerely believe that he did not enjoy my gift.

"Oh, Pamela, you really have outdone yourself tonight," He said with a pleased smirk, putting his arm around my shoulder as he turned us towards the throne on the stage. "What other delightful entertainment do you have in store for us?"

I looked up at him, batting my eyelashes with well-practiced mock innocence. "Why, Sarge, here at Iceman Air, we insist that everyone must be safely strapped in, and we have reached a comfortable cruising altitude before we can even begin discussing our in-flight entertainment. But please, do enjoy your drink while we wait." I was sure that the satisfied grin on my face was almost as wide as the one muzzled onto the imprisoned cat we'd just left behind.

Eric opened his mouth to demand an explanation to my riddle-speak, but stopped before uttering a word, his eyes glazing over with desire. I peeked back over my shoulder towards the door even though I knew it would be a few moments before the reason would walk through it.

I could feel my own fangs run down involuntarily at the vision that filled my sight the next moment.

I was about ninety percent sure, when I sent the package to Sookie, that she would be cooperative and wear the costume that I had picked out for her. With her you never know – the strangest things set off her misplaced pride.

I smiled with satisfaction to myself, confident that the carefully worded invitation had given her the much-needed excuse to give in to her more adventurous side:

Come as you aren't

Come as you wish you were

Come as you want you to be

Join us on All Hallow's Eve for a night of adventure in Fangerland

And she wore it well.

She looked like a 40s pinup girl who was ready to teach her submissive a very memorable lesson. Clad in leather from head to toe, her golden hair, parted to the side, cascaded over her shoulder in big glamorous waves. The black pencil skirt just skimmed her knees, the perfect length to set off her golden, tanned legs and those hot t-strap stiletto heels. The corset, black with bits of red satin peeking through and a sweetheart neckline accented her natural assets. It reached just to her hips, the length of it, along with the shiny satin ruffle that lined the bottom edge, accented her curves to distraction.

It was hard not to jump up and down in pure joy that she also went with the accessories I'd picked up for her. I resisted the smirk that tugged at my lips when I thought of my fun little shopping expedition, where I'd picked up the white lace elbow length gloves to complete my own costume, as well as the red leather gloves for Sookie. They were cropped short, curving just above her dainty wrist, accentuating the delicious feeding spot to perfection.

A satchel was slung over her shoulder, the bag of naughty tricks that I'd included with her costume. Hmm....I wonder which ones the Iceman will enjoy the most?

Amelia walked in from behind the now hesitant Sookie, holding her hand and pulling her forward.

The witch was dressed as the sexiest Mad Hatter I had ever laid eyes on, with dark, pinstriped, wide-legged, low-slung pants falling just below her hips, exposing a tanned and toned stomach, her hipbones creating an enticing line that led the eye south. Her matching tank top vest exposed her arms and cleavage, coming down to just halfway down her abdomen. Her brunette curls peeked out from under the black velvet top hat, and the costume was completed by a golden pocket watch, its chain peeking out of her vest pocket.

Amelia was now striding towards us with renewed confidence, pulling Sookie along, looking like two very tall (albeit, petite) drinks in a very dry desert.

"Girls, you look good enough to drink" I said, "...och äta" I added, glancing up at Eric with a wink.

Amelia snorted, "Hey Pam. Enjoying your Fangerland fantasy?"

I turned my gaze back to the girls, moving towards them.

I bent down to brush my lips against Sookie's warm cheek. "Welcome aboard Iceman Air," I said, then quickly turned my attention to Amelia, leaning in to her and giving her a quick peck.

"You are especially delicious tonight," I whispered softly in her ear. I placed my hand at her hip, just above where her low-slung pants lay, guiding her gently towards the buffet.

I glanced briefly over my shoulder, ensuring that my master and his bonded were quite distracted by each other, and would not be missing us very much. Leaning in even closer to Amelia, I asked, "So, did you bring what I asked for?"

She kept her gaze pointed straight ahead, but her mouth twisted into a grin and her eyes gleamed with anticipation. When we reached the table, she extended her hand to mine, discreetly hiding our contact between the folds of my skirt.

"Of course," She whispered softly into my ear, her warm breath tickling and sending shivers down my spine. "But use it quickly because it will end when the new day begins."

"You mean at midnight, right?" I asked.

"Well, duh."

"Why didn't you just say midnight then?" I hissed, rolling my eyes with undisguised annoyance.

A server came over, and I had her bring over four fresh drinks, two of them for breathers. Amelia faced the room, placing herself in front of me, hiding me from any prying eyes without me even having to instruct her to do so.

I opened up the bottle Amelia had given me, pleased to discover that it imparted no smell that even my highly sensitive vampire senses could discern. After quickly completing my task, I turned around, handing Amelia the two cups filled with human drinks, one stacked on top of the other, as I held the two blood filled cups in my other hand.

I held out my other arm, inclining my head in invitation to Amelia. "Shall we?" I purred, entwining our arms.

We smiled at each other, pleased at how perfectly our arms fit together – warm and cool, fair and golden. The delicate porcelain cups also fit together in snug perfection, the saucer of one cup perfectly resting into the cup of the other, preventing any jostling of the drinks as we made our way back toward the star-crossed lovers.

"Ahem," Amelia none-too-gently attempted to rouse Sookie and Eric from their trance. "We brought you some refreshments."

It still took a good long second for them to shake their lusty haze and turn to take the beverages from us before returning their attentions to each other.

"Well, I'm glad you're enjoying each others' costumes," I said. Then, turning to Amelia, I looped my arm through hers once again. "I must check on the help...care to join me?"

She nodded her head in assent, happy to find such a convenient excuse to watch her handiwork from a distance. We made our way to the bar and quickly found a comfortable and convenient vantage point.

"So," I whispered seductively, unable to resist a giddy giggle, feeling my fangs run down with the excitement. "When do you think Iceman Air will be ready for liftoff?"

Amelia tittered with hysterical giggles beside me, attempting to hide her poorly-hidden amusement behind her hand. "I believe it should be any minute now. Oooh, I wonder, will our dearest Sookie become a card carrying member of the Mile-High Club on her maiden voyage?"

"Well, I don't believe this is technically her maiden voyage," I snickered. "But I do hear that Iceman Air is known for sporting quite a large cockpit."

We were both now completely overtaken by uncontrollable fits of laughter, as we looked on at the beautiful blond pair, downing their mystical mickies with unsuspecting abandon.

We succumbed to our silliness. "You know, if you drink much from a bottle marked 'poison,' " I shook my index finger at my companion in mock warning, "it is almost certain to disagree with you, sooner or later."

Just as our latest fits of laughter subsided, I noticed Eric grab Sookie's arm protectively with his left hand, shoving her behind him, while his right arm gripped his gun tightly and as his eyes scanned the room with well-disguised alarm.

Well, shit, this evening certainly was getting curiouser and curiouser, as the saying goes.

"Watch out, girl" I warned Amelia, leaning in closer to her. "It looks like in-flight entertainment is likely to cause some heavy turbulence."

Fucking Encino Man. It was just like that shitbird to pull this crap on me. A solo recon? Sure, drop me in the middle of an epic clusterfuck without another Devil Dog on deck. I wasn't exactly sure how I got here, but now was not the time to delve into that mystery. I doubted I was the only one sent in, and I didn't spot any obvious casualties. Thankfully, the enemy seemed oblivious to our presence.

In fact, just moments ago, I thought that they had dropped me into a Halloween party. The guests seemed to be wearing an odd assortment of costumes and seemed to be having a good old time, drinking and laughing and shit. I was admiring an especially hot, leggy blonde who was putting the moves on a short and curvy brunette. It was when curvy leaned in for a coy whisper that I saw it. Fangs. Blondie was laughing, and I could swear I saw large, sharp fangs run down.

What. The. Fuck. It had to be part of her costume, didn't it? But, as I scanned the room, I saw that at least one out of every two people had a sharp set. Well, the girl next to me was burning hot – definitely not a walking corpse. We needed to get Oscar Mike. Fast. Before the bloodsuckers noticed us.

"Back up – against the wall!" I commanded her with a low whisper, shoving her behind me.

We slowly inched backwards. I flattened us against the wall when we finally reached it, placing my hand on her waist, positioning her tiny frame behind me in a way that hid it completely. Fuck. Me. Leather. I could feel the warmth of her flesh through her tight leather top. Why did this girl feel so fucking hot against my skin? I wrenched my hand away, as if I burned it on a hot stove.

I tried again, placing my hand lower down, but found myself only more miserably fucked. I had managed to grab onto a handful of leather-clad thigh. This leather was thinner and softer, so I could easily feel every curve of her hot little body. Then she pressed her palm against my back, her breath scorching against me as she moved closer to cower behind me.

I raised my piece. "Red-con one," I whispered to myself, not entirely convinced I was just talking about the gun in my hand.

"Move!" I hissed through clenched teeth, guiding her with me along the wall.

When we reached the end of the wall, I paused for a moment before entering the dark hallway ahead of us and pushed her into it ahead of me.

"Get down, and keep moving," I told her as I crouched into recon position, still facing the room so I could spot any approaching hostile vampire.

She was dragging ass behind me, a dead fucking weight.

"We don't have time for this shit!" I growled at her. "If you don't do exactly as I say, we'll need a hell of a lot more ass than I'm packing to get out of this place."

I groaned at the feel of two small, searing hands wrapping around my ass. My hands involuntarily tightened around my gun.

"Oh, don't be so hard on yourself soldier," she purred, squeezing her handful. "You seem to be packing a good gracious plenty."

"I mean firepower, woman," I said as I shoved her down the hall behind me. "Now, move it!"

As we moved down the hall, I found the first door we encountered to be unlocked. I motioned Leather Girl to keep close behind me as I scouted the room. I ensured it was empty, then pushed the girl in ahead of me with a not-so-gentle shove.

Her heels clicked too loudly against the floor as I locked the door behind us, and pulled a bookcase over to use as a barricade. I surveyed the room. There was only one way in or out of our hiding place. This was a blessing and a curse. Should the hostiles decide to come through after us, it would be easier to defend our position because I wouldn't have to watch my six. It also meant that it would be a bitch to get out if they made it past the barrier, turning our bunker into a Kill Box. What a clusterfuck.

I could feel the heat of eyes all over me when I turned from the door and walked across the room. In all the commotion, there wasn't time for me to take a good look at the girl. I sat down behind the massive, wooden desk to make my assessment. She was lounging, in all her leather-clad glory, golden legs crossed Basic Instinct-style, on the brown leather sofa across from me. Oh yeah, this chick was hot – sort of an I-will-make-you-my-bitch-but-you'll-love-it variety of hot – and she was definitely eyefucking me. I was trying to decide if our position was secure enough for me to try to get some when something under the desk blotter caught my eye.

What. The. Fuck. I pulled out several well-loved issues of Playboy, Hustler, and Penthouse. Someone's combat jack reading materials? I couldn't help the crooked smile that spread across my face. At least the owner of this office had the good taste to include Hustler in his repertoire. I fucking loved Beaver Hunt.

A small hand flashed across my field of vision. She was snatching the skin magazines out of my hands faster than I could say, "Stay frosty."

"Fake plastic tits and orange spray-on tans? You would rather look at this shit than worship me?" she asked, her words dripping with venom. "Un-fucking-believable."

I turned towards the hand still clutching the porn, and my jaw hit my chest. Leather Girl – shit, I didn't even know her name! – was standing so close to me I could lick the skin peeking out between the laces of her corset with minimal effort. She smelled so fucking delicious, like pineapple and raspberries, like fucking Charms. I clenched my fists below the desk, fighting against the urge to run my tongue over my lips. I swallowed hard at my response in an effort not to bury my face between those perfect tits.

"This kind of degenerate behavior is unacceptable," she said as she tossed the skin mags to the desk. As if by magic, Leather Girl produced a leather riding crop with a flourish. I half-expected her to say, "Ta-da!"

"You will have to be punished," she punctuated her declaration with a resounding thwack of its red, heart-shaped head against the offensive "literature." Her deep blue eyes sparkled, unable to hide her excitement at having a pretext to play with her toy.

I took a moment to weigh my options.

The most action I'd gotten lately was with my always-passionate right hand. As skillful as it was, it would never compare to the real thing, much less to this piece of hot ass standing within inches of said hand's reach.

With some difficulty, I wrenched my eyes from her glorious heaving chest and allowed my gaze to travel leisurely down her golden leather-clad legs. She probably weighed 100 pounds soaking wet with her clothes on. I seriously doubted that any "punishment" she wanted to dole out would do me any substantial harm. Usually, I was the one in control of my sexual encounters, but that didn't mean I couldn't sit back and enjoy letting go from time to time. Hell, I'd probably even enjoy the "punishment" Leather Girl had in mind.

On the other hand, we were currently in middle of an extremely dangerous situation. The last thing I needed was someone catching me with my pants down – literally and figuratively – with an entire AO full of hungry bloodsuckers.

But, I might be petting a burning dog if I did something that put me on Leather Girl's bad side. That shit never ends well. Considering how long it had been since I'd been with a woman, and how incredibly fuckhot this one was, I was more than ready to overlook the potential hazards and hand the reins over to Leather Girl with pleasure. I decided to play along.

"On your feet, soldier!" she shouted. "Let me see what I get to work with."

I stepped out from behind the desk and pressed my hand over her soft, crimson pout.

"Are you fucking trying to get us schwacked? Vampires have notoriously good hearing," I reminded her. "Do you think you can keep it the fuck down?"

Leather Girl nipped at the flesh of my palm and ran her tongue between my fingers, a silent, seductive promise to acquiesce to my request, until I took my hand away.

"Soldier, I think I could ask you the same thing," she replied with a pointed stare at my crotch. Her eyes positively blazed with desire. I was afraid the power of her gaze might actually set my pants on fire. "I'll be as quiet as possible. Now, let me look at you."

She circled me like a shark, nodding occasionally, eying me like a predator before stopping behind me.

"Not bad. You're tall. I like that. Now lose the jacket." I shrugged my blouse over my shoulders before tossing it on the sofa. She stroked her small, fiery fingers over my shoulders and down my biceps approvingly. "Good. You have plenty of muscles, but they're not all disgustingly huge and 'roided-out."

As she stalked around to face me, her left hand slid down my chest and grazed my abs. I stifled the moan threatening to escape my lips when I imagined those burning fingers sliding south to wrap around my dick. Apparently, the Sarge liked that image, too. He jumped and tried to launch an assault-through on my D.C.U.

"I think I've seen enough of your clothes. Turn around and pull down your pants."

Now, I was used to taking orders that I didn't necessarily agree with. That was part of the job. This was a completely new ball of wax altogether. The person issuing commands wasn't a gnome of a man who mutilated the English language like Sixta; it was a nameless, stunning blonde dominatrix sheathed head-to-toe in leather. In addition, I wasn't usually so hard that I could build a deck using my cock as a hammer.

Fuck it.

I turned away from Leather Girl and her crop, hiding my sneer until I was certain she couldn't see it, and I pulled my cammies down over my bare ass. No skivvies for this Marine.

I heard movement at my six. The click of her stilettos against the tile telegraphed her location, and a fleeting glance over my shoulder confirmed that she had gone to the leather sofa. I watched her pull my blouse over her shoulders. The damn thing wrapped around her petite form nearly double, and she thrust her nose into the lapel, inhaling my scent deeply.

She fucking smelled my shirt. Then she fucking moaned. For all her talk of punishment and following orders, this girl wanted in a piece of me.

It was hard not to shake with laughter at her loud gasp when she turned around and saw me naked. She recovered quickly, but there was something different in her tone when she spoke again. Her control was slipping, even if it was only giving by mere inches.

"Very nice, soldier," she purred appreciatively. The crop danced between the dimples in the small of my back, and made a figure eight over each cheek. "Now, let's see how long it takes to turn that sweet, honey-colored ass a pretty shade of pink."

Her hand stroked the blonde peach fuzz at the nape of my neck before snaking between my shoulder blades. She shoved me down with a surprising amount of force for such a diminutive girl, and it knocked me off-balance. I bent at the waist, pressed my arms – elbow to palm – against the desk, and tried to prepare myself.

Even though I knew it was coming, the sting of the crop against my skin was unexpected and I flinched. Leather Girl did not ignore this. She chuckled darkly and I could practically hear the satisfied smirk she undoubtedly wore.

The pain from the first stroke faded into a radiating warmth. I was just starting to enjoy the sensation when Leather Girl landed another blow. She wasn't pulling her punches. I guess I should have known she wasn't going to go easy on me by the force she'd used to push me over the desk.

The Sarge had no problems with her aggressive treatment of us. Judging by the way that he was straining against the desk for some friction, I'd say he was fucking loving it. Before my lust-hazed mind could form another complete thought, the crop fell again.

"Fuck me!" I growled unable to stop myself.

"Not yet, soldier," she laughed. "Besides, aren't Marines supposed to be all gallant and shit? You know, ladies come first?"

Leather cracked against my bare ass once more, and I was really starting to enjoy it. I turned my head to the left, trying desperately not to rub myself against the desk. I could see those gorgeous, golden legs. They were only inches away. My left hand took the initiative, acting of its own volition, and reached towards her.

Contact. Leather Girl gasped. I closed my hand around a smooth, firm calf. Her skin was burning, and I wanted to feel more of it. She was a statue as I let my hand slide around her knee and up the back of her thigh, slipping underneath her skirt. I groaned at the sensation of cool, smooth leather on the back of my hand and heated, silky flesh beneath it. When she moved to allow me better access to her, the smell of her desire was thick and sweet. I bet she tastes as good as she smells, maybe even better, I thought, andresolved to find out. My knuckles brushed against damp satin, and Leather Girl let out a low moan.

I'd rather ask forgiveness than permission, but that sounded suspiciously like permission to me.

My index finger pushed the scrap of flimsy material aside and slid inside her. It was like plunging into velvet fire – blazing hot and supple and fuckawesome.

Her control was crumbling with every stroke. She whimpered, her legs trembling and parting around my hand. I let the wanton sounds of her need be my cadence as I moved my hand against her.

I plunged a second finger inside her while using my thumb to draw tortuously slow circles around her nub. Her whole body shuddered violently around my hand. Fuck she was hot. She bit down on her lower lip and her cheeks flushed with color. I growled, trying to prevent a negligent discharge, when I realized I was supporting her entire weight with my hand. She was slowly sinking down, her legs failing.

I spun around and closed the distance between us, placing one hand on her leather clad ass, while I moved my other hand from inside her to her bare cheek, under the skirt. My lips crashed down hungrily on hers, swallowing the moan that escaped from her at the loss of my hand. I tightened my grip on her as I turned us around and set her on the edge of the desk.

Her breasts were heaving violently now, practically begging to be let out with every strained breath. Who was I to ignore such distress? I buried my face in the imprisoned golden globes, while I tore at the leather, setting them free. My hands greedily groped her firm breast as they spilled out, my mouth trailing nips and nibbles down her neck and chest.

She hitched her legs at my waist, grinding up on me. "Oh, no" I whispered, grabbing her feet by the heels, and placing them on the desk. I took her hands, guiding them down to grab the heels at the spot I had just left.

"I insist," I whispered more softly, leaning into her ear, "ladies first."

My tongue grazed along her neck as I worked my way down while my hands continued to fondle her breasts. I hissed at the feel of her nipples hardening under my hands, burying my face in her neck.

I moved my hand to her thigh, pushing up her skirt as I pulled away to kneel beside her, kissing and sucking my way up her thighs. I looked up, and our gaze met and locked for a breathless moment, as my hand reached underneath her panties and pulled them down.

I tugged them down until they were out of my way, then returned my hands to her knees, using them to hold her down and open her up, as I lowered myself between her legs.

Gripping her thighs, I worked her with my tongue until she finally gave up control. She clutched my shoulder with one hand, her nails digging into my skin, and her other hand entwined in my hair. Her breaths quickened as she moaned and quivered all around me.

Buzz. .

She growled, pulling her hand out of my hair and reached into my blouse shirt pocket, retrieving a cell phone.

"Iceman – How's the in-flight entertainment?" she hissed breathlessly, " Get some! Oooh-rah!"

She hit the end button and tossed the phone aside, her eyebrow raised in question.

"Who…mmm…the fuck…oh yes… is Iceman?" her question was broken by groans and a scowl on her face.

I lifted my head from her center, with every intention of explaining my nickname, but the second my mouth left her, Leather Girl was barking orders again.

"Did I give you permission to stop, soldier? Don't you dare fucking stop!" she hissed at me, her eyes sparking with frustrated anger. "If you value your life and your manhood, don't fucking stop"

"You asked a question," I said with a ragged voice, looking up into those blue oceans of desire. "You want an answer?"

With a devilish smile, she held my gaze and grabbed my hand. The smile widened as she intertwined her small fingers with my long ones and guided them over her clit to her entrance.

"So,who is …mmmmmm...this Pam broad? What in the name of all thing holy…ungh…is she doing sending fucking text messages…fuuuck…encouraging 'Iceman' to 'get some' in the middle of my orgasm?"

Bending to brush my lips across the inside of her knee and running my nose up her thigh, I answered, my voice husky. "I have no idea who Pam is, but I fucking love the way her mind works."

She fervently nodded her head to acknowledge that this was a sufficient answer, clutching at the edge of the desk with her free hand as I slipped my tongue inside her. I curled my fingers inside her, finding her sweet spot and hardening at her response. She bucked, crying out and thrusting her hips up. I was shaking as much as she was, straining to hold back for my turn. I matched my rhythm to her need, my free hand at her hip, fingers digging deeper into her golden smooth skin at the sound and scent of her climax surrounding me.

I lay my cheek on her inner thigh, nuzzling the soft, trembling skin as I watched her return to earth with a smirk tugging at the sides of my mouth.

Fuck, my blouse looked good on her. Her ample breasts spilled over her torn leather corset, and the army jacket hung loosely over them, just barely covering their sides. Her soft curls spread in a golden halo around her.

I moved up her body, nestling my face against the crook of her neck, and rubbing myself all over her.

"I'm relieving you of your duty" I whispered against her ear "I am the C.O. now, and you will follow my orders."

I pressed my lips to hers, while my large hands found her swollen breasts, groping them through the rough material of my army jacket. I flicked my thumb over her nipples, groaning as I felt her respond underneath my thumb, and reached inside the pocket for what I needed. Her eyes fluttered open, looking up at me with confusion bubbling up through the lust haze that clouded her blue eyes.

Her lips curled into a delighted smirk when she saw I pulled out a condom. She reached down between us, wrapping her small, hot hand around me and stroking. The Sarge jumped to attention, and I hurriedly ripped the package and rolled the latex flack jacket on.

I hitched her legs around my waist and entered her, leaning down to press my body onto hers. She was wet and tight and so fucking hot. I thrust in and out of her deeply, feeling her expand and swell to take me in. Her hands traveled around my waist to my back, and settled around my ass, squeezing and pulling me in closer.

She moaned and arched her back, pushing her soft breasts closer against me. Her mouth was parted in ecstasy as she fixed her gaze on mine, and I was ready to blow. I held onto her hips and slammed her onto me, thrusting deep and hard, resting my forehead on hers and losing myself in her eyes.

Her heart beat loudly and erratically, filling the room.

What the hell? How could I hear Leather Girl's heart? What the hell was this woman doing to me?

She cried out and threw her head back, the delicate vein in her neck pulsing with her desire. It was all I could focus on: the sound of her hot blood running through the vein filled my ears, and I began thrusting in rhythm to the expansion and contraction of it above her throat. I growled and sunk my head to her throat, no longer able to resist the urge to bite.

Her sweet blood filled my mouth. It should have repulsed me...but it only spurred me on, and her too, by the sound of her quickened breath beside me, and her tightening muscles around my dick.

I was a vampire! Here I was, trying to protect her from the bloodsuckers, but I only trapped her in a room with one. I knew I should care, but it was too late. I groaned at the feel of her sweet blood warm inside me, and the heat of her sex tightening around me.

The phone vibrated on the desk beside us with another text message from Pam:

The stroke of midnight is upon us ;p

I rolled my eyes and knocked the phone off the desk, pulling her into me as I increased our pace.

"Oh! Eric! Yes!" She cried out, clenching and trembling underneath me as we both climaxed.

I was licking her wound lazily, enjoying her sweet scent – the intoxicating fairy in her blood mingling with our sex and the raspberry of her perfume, when I felt her body shake softly underneath me.

I raised my head, blood dripping from my teeth and clinging to my lips, gazing at my satiated lover, golden curls tangled around us, giggling contentedly.

"I guess you enjoyed your in-flight meal?" She asked with a smirk.

I waggled my eyebrows at her "Not as much as you seem to have enjoyed the entertainment"

She snorted adorably, then grabbed my dog-tags and pulled me in for a kiss. "Tell Alice," she whispered into my lips, looking up at me through long, golden lashes, "That was fucking ninja."

A/N: Here's your Swedish translation:

och äta: and eat

Several people are to blame for this work of fiction. First on the list, Joss Whedon. Damn you for giving us shows with great characters, amazing plots, and witty writing. Your work is like crack…sweet, sweet crack…and we always want another fix. We were so inspired by your work – please, don't sue us! – that we might have based this on an episode of Buffy. Just remember, imitation is the sincerest form of flattery. Next up, Charlaine Harris. Thanks a fuckton for giving us Eric to play with. He's smart, sexy, and snarky. That's just the way we like our men. And Sookie's okay, too. Finally, the swoon-worthy Alexander Skarsgård. We are so in love with him, and it's not just because he's so fuckhawt. He is an amazing actor. We can't wait to see more of him.

Now thanks are due to some very special women. LindsayK, your Generation Kill entry in the Encyclopedia Lindstastica was amazingly helpful. Chicklette, our fantabulous beta, we couldn't have done this without you. Seriously. You are awesomesauce. All of the women of The Sookieverse, we love you. Your help and advice are invaluable. Thank you all!

FNT wants to give a special thank you to pixiegiggles. Without you, and your deadly eyeflirts, I would never have written this. I will never be able to repay you for all the handholding and ego stroking. I have such a major heart-on for you.

Any mistakes you find here are our own. Don't rub it in, though. That's not nice. Reviewcrack is nice. Do that instead.