A/N: Because everyone was really encouraging and forgiving as this cock births an elephant in a hen house (it'd make sense if you read the reviews), I wrote the real chapter twenty, a true update after two years. It's unbetaed, so you get it right away.
The characters belong to Charlaine Harris. The mistakes are my own. Don't judge me too harshly for them.
Chapter Twenty - Blood in the Water
"Good morning, Mr. Northman! That's funny, I'm having quite the moment of déjà vu…"
"Please, Chow," I grumbled in little more than a whisper, holding up a hand in an attempt to stop his lips before they had the opportunity to fully adhere themselves to my ass. The parting "gift" of a hangover Pam had so generously left me with wouldn't let me tolerate anything resembling chipper, and right now, the security guard counted. "It's not that fantastic. Try your very best to contain your enthusiasm for my benefit."
His dark eyes blinked at me repeatedly, bewildered. "Is there something wrong, Mr. Northman?"
The grunt I gave him wasn't much of an answer, but it was all he was getting before I turned away from his station and staggered toward the elevator, stepping onto the already crowded car and regretting it even before my finger left the button for the top floor. The moment the doors were closed, I was overwhelmed by the smells of perfumes, aftershaves, and overly fragrant coffees. I could feel my face turning an unsettling shade of green and my stomach lurching as soon as we began the much too slow ascent upward.
The doors to the elevator had only just closed, shutting out the din of the crowded entryway, but not even that was to be enjoyed. "Congratulations on closing the LeClerq deal once and for all, Mr. Northman, and before the holiday too," a voice chirped from somewhere behind me. I closed my bloodshot eyes, concealed behind not-dark-enough aviators and grunted a response. If I opened my mouth, I was damn positive more than words were going to come spilling out.
It was going to be a fucking long day.
What had I been thinking? Just a small challenge from Pam and I was practically bathing in expensive scotch. That conniving bitch was probably still laughing at my expense from her first-class seat in the sky. Reluctantly- even more reluctantly as my stomach lurched yet again- I really did miss her already. She was such an insufferable pain in the ass, but she was my insufferable pain in the ass. What was I going to do without her cluttering up my space, annoying me at every turn, interfering in my life, and spending my money like it was going out of style?
I really was turning into a sentimental fuck.
My phone started ringing as the elevator stopped to let some of the small crowd depart, allowing me the space to breathe without feeling completely assaulted, and I pulled the offensively loud device out of my pocket roughly. The other employees trapped in the elevator with me had given me as wide a berth as the small space allowed and for that, I was grateful. They would be too if my previous day's liquid diet decided to make an unexpected reappearance.
"Northman," I mumbled while leaning up against the cool, metallic wall of my confined space.
"Eric, I've been trying to reach you. Have you listened to your messages? Where are you? You're not in the office yet, are you?"
Sam. Couldn't he have waited the five minutes it would have taken for me to get a cup of coffee into my system before expecting me to work? I fully realized I owed the guy a lot, especially after how he had handled things yesterday, but the throbbing in my head didn't like me thinking past the moment, and in this moment, he felt like my worst enemy. "I'm in the elevator now. I'll be in my office in less than one minute. You can lynch me then if you'd like."
"No, you don't under-"
I had ended the call and returned the offending device to my pocket before he had a chance to elaborate. Once he got a look at me, I was sure Sam would decide I'd be useless until at least lunch. I was sure I'd be useless until at least lunch thanks to Pam, but after dumping the responsibility of talking to the Dallas office on his lap yesterday, I knew I needed to at least put in an appearance and make it seem like I actually gave a damn and worked now and then.
It was bullshit, but who was really going to question it?
Stepping off the elevator, I noted Sookie wasn't at her desk yet, which only seemed to be yet another disappointment in what was an already painfully long morning since I had regained consciousness. My office door was slightly ajar, but I thought nothing of it as I pushed it open the remainder of the way and unceremoniously made my way to my window. I had a beautiful view, but right now, I despised it. Closing off the light until my office was bathed in nothing but delightful shadows, I collapsed into my desk chair with a groan equal parts loud and pitiful. The aviators were pulled from my face unceremoniously before being sent skidding across my desk with a careless clatter.
"You look like shit, Eric."
I audibly swallowed the bile that had immediately risen in my throat as my eyes snapped to the figure seated so comfortably on my couch, feet kicked up on the coffee table as if they belonged, and smiling as if my present state gave him a deep and smug sense of self-satisfaction. I cruelly and abruptly sobered under the expression.
"Thanks, dad."
A tense, palpable moment of silence followed that permeated me to my very core as he looked me over in the weak light I had allowed the room to retain, his eyes flickering over the shadows of bruises and cuts that still dotted my features with unveiled curiosity and I had to keep myself from flinching under the stare. Fuck the Fates and the incessant stream of bullshit they insisted on sending my way. Before my resolve to let him examined me wavered enough for me to look away, he bored of the task. "Well? Is that it then? Is that my welcome? Is that really the best you can do? You don't seem pleased to see me, son."
"This is a surprise. I wasn't expecting you," I answered while rising to my feet, but I wasn't correcting him. He was as welcome as a flare up of herpes. I wasn't at all pleased to see him. I wouldn't pretend I was. "Did you enjoy your flight?"
Faking cordiality wasn't my strong point, but he didn't seem to notice nor give a flying fuck as I closed my office door with a loud snap, flipping on the overhead light before I sunk into a chair beside where he was holding court. I didn't trust him enough alone in the shadows. "You've made the flight yourself. You know it's a waste of time. You barely get boarded before you've arrived."
I shrugged noncommittally, trying not to make the hostility that was rolling off me transparent. I hadn't been prepared for this, and I really hated surprises. I especially hated surprises like this. I needed more time to mentally prepare for shitstorms such as this one. Days, weeks, months, years to prepare… it wouldn't ever be enough, but a spontaneous father-son reunion was never going to sit well with me. "So… exactly why did you board in the first place again?" Was I making my hostility too obvious? I probably needed to check that…
He snorted before shifting on the couch, reaching over to pour himself a glass of my whiskey, which made my stomach instantly somersault. It wasn't even nine in the morning yet, and I suspected he had probably put a drink or two away on the plane. I'd be more surprised to learn he hadn't. "I missed you, boy," he offered and it was my turn to bite back the snort that desperately wanted to escape. "I miss working side-by-side. I miss the father and son team we made when you first came to work for Northman & Davis." In other words, he missed having his prize show dog readily available to parade about at his leisure. "You got us LeClerq for a steal, all on your own. Frankly, I think it's time for you to come to Dallas. You're wasted here in the middle of nowhere."
"You brought me to the middle of nowhere," I corrected smoothly, despite my agitation. "This wasn't my idea. And I didn't make any deal on my own, I had Sam with me every step of the way. It wouldn't have happened with out him." Especially when I couldn't keep my goddamn temper in check. "When Stan was here just last week, he gave me your pitch for joining you. It was very compelling, you'd have approved of how hard he sold the Dallas office to me, but I'm just not interested. I'm growing to really like the middle of nowhere, and if the LeClerq deal shows us anything, it's that there's still plenty to be done right here where I am."
He waved his hand dismissively as if batting the mere idea of that being true out of our space. "Only Stan gave a shit about securing LeClerq. He should be here running his pissant pet projects while you and I sit at headquarters, doing the real business that built this company into what it is today."
I barely resisted the urge to roll my eyes.
"I hate that you had to waste a day coming out here for no reason, especially when we could have taken care of this over the phone- when we have taken care of this over the phone- but I'm happy right where I am, just like I was yesterday, and the day before that, and even the day before that one. Nothing you could say could make me change my mind. We have a good thing going for us."
"I could fire you," he threatened cooly before taking a drink of his whiskey. Smugness radiated off him. The room was thick with it. It was a job keeping myself from choking on it, but it was self-preservation. I didn't trust him enough to believe he'd aid in my resuscitation.
"I'll find a way to get by," I finally answered with a shrug. His mouth became a hard line, but his face was otherwise unreadable. He was trying to figure out if I was telling the truth. Unfortunately for him, I was. If I never spent another day in stuffy, expensive suits again, I'd manage to get by just fine. I'd work in Tray's garage, I'd join Alcide construction crew or Jason's road crew, I'd even tend at Terry's bar if I had to, but nothing the man who sired me could say would have convinced me to leave Shreveport. That was especially true now that I had found Sookie… even if I still wasn't ready to think too deeply about that.
He laughed heartily before reaching over to slap my arm much more roughly than it called for, and it fucking stung. "Relax, Eric, I'm just giving you a hard time," he insisted, relaxing his own features. "What kind of father would I be if I didn't take care of my son?"
My back stiffened as I shifted uncomfortably in my chair, so fucking tempted was I to answer the rhetorical question that hung in the air. Before I had a chance to start fighting that particular battle, my office door swung open in an unapologetic frenzy and my blonde angel came rushing through it, coffee in hand, her bright eyes immediately locked on me.
"Eric," she breathed, sounding strangely relieved. She thrust the cup of coffee into my hand before her arms wrapped around me as she bent to give me a hug. My whole body tensed. "I was gettin' so worried. You said you were gonna call last night when you were done with Pam. Is everything okay? You're lookin' a little green…"
"Miss Stackhouse," I interrupted, the title not immediately giving me wood like it would've under normal circumstances. It couldn't. Not when I could see my father blatantly eyefucking Sookie as she bent in front of him, all while she was blissfully unaware of his presence. If he recognized her name, it didn't show. Then again, he was pretty focused on his stare down with her ass and had probably forgotten I existed altogether. "I believe you were properly informed that when my office door is closed, I'm not to be interrupted. Mornings are no more an exception than any other time of the workday."
Sookie was everything that was right in my world. The Northman in Northman & Davis was everything that was wrong in my world. I didn't want the two meeting. Not now. Not ever.
Sookie's arms stiffened around me before she stood abruptly, a frown on her face as she tried to read my own expression, which was fucking pointless. I had my shit locked down tighter than a virgin's legs on a prom night. Unsurprisingly, she didn't seem to appreciate that.
This day just kept getting better and better…
"I apologize, Mr. Northman," she stated through clenched teeth, her cheeks slightly flushed, but she was still blissfully unaware we weren't alone in the room. I wanted to keep it that way.
"Just don't let it happen again," I answered with a noncommittal wave of my free hand. I felt her eyes examining my face again, but I ignored it again, taking a drink of the coffee she had offered and hoping it would somehow get my head in the fucking game quickly. "I'll need my entire morning cleared. Hold any calls not from Stan's office." He might be looking for his runaway partner. "That'll be all for now, Miss Stackhouse. You may return to your desk."
"Really, Eric?" my father drawled lazily, seemingly quite pleased with himself to abruptly draw Sookie's attention his way as she spun on the spot to identify the source of the condescending voice. If she recognized it from the time she had taken my phone from me, she didn't acknowledge it. "Surely you're going to introduce us. Is this that old bat Octavia's replacement?" he asked while he extended the hand not occupied with alcohol to my Sookie. I didn't want him to lay so much as a single finger on her, but I couldn't stop her from placing hers in his, and I watched nearly horrified as he wrapped his hand around hers. I had to repress a shudder. "I can see why you were so willing to let her retire. I've always said it myself, but who can deny it now? You really are a chip off the ol' block."
I wanted to growl at his words. I wanted to throw the cup of coffee Sookie had brought me directly into his smug face. I wanted to scoff at his presumptions, but with him right here, looking her over like she was a piece of meat, I wondered if he wasn't just a little bit right, and I fucking hated myself for it. I took another forced drink of my coffee and it was bitter on my tongue.
"Miss Stackhouse, this is Mr. Northman from the Dallas office," I introduced mechanically. Sookie pulled her hand back and away from his like it suddenly burned her. Her eyes flashed to me, but I kept my expression unreadable, my own eyes fixed on an abstract piece of art that hung on my wall as if I had never seen it before and it had sprouted up in its place overnight. "That will be all, Miss Stackhouse," I repeated once more, and this time- fucking finally- she left in a hurry, the door quickly snapping closed behind her.
"I'm starting to understand why you want to stay here in this hell hole now," he decided before finishing off his glass and dropping it carelessly to the coffee table in front of him.
"The two are entirely unrelated."
He looked at me as I took a drink from my cup of coffee, which was attempting to beat my scotch heavy stomach into submission. "It's almost amusing you think you can lie to me. It's even more amusing you think you can do it convincingly. Never bullshit a bullshitter." My eyes turned sharply to his and for a long, silent moment, we stared at one another. After it stretched on long past being comfortable, he finally shrugged his shoulders. "That's going to be trouble for you, son."
That was fucking rich coming from him. "There was a time in my life when I may have welcomed your brand of fatherly advice or even invited it myself, but I think we're beyond that," I snapped without even thinking about my words or how they'd be conceived… something I had probably learned from Jason. When Jason fucking Stackhouse of all people is the one you're emulating, you know you're in trouble.
It didn't seem to make a difference though. True and honest as the words had been, he just carelessly laughed them off.
I should have bit my tongue. I knew I should have bit my tongue. My stomach may not have purged itself of Pam's underhanded scheme, but I couldn't stop myself from regurgitating words now. "And just what is so fucking funny now, dad?"
"Oh, it's nothing, Eric," he insisted, the smile on his face confirming he had far more than "nothing" to say. "I was just thinking about how I always get exactly what I want." My eyebrow shot up in silent question, or maybe it was a silent challenge. I wasn't sure myself. "That," he continued, his head tilting toward my office door, my office door Sookie was right on the other side of, "is precisely what's going to send you straight to Dallas and to my side one day without ever looking back. You really are just like your old man, aren't you?"
And once more, the question hung in the air, and I was left really not wanting to know the answer to it.
It was close to noon when the sperm donor with father-son delusions aplenty decided he was ready to call it a day and agreed to check into a hotel, and that was only after I had agreed to give him a rundown on the LeClerq deal, reiterated the options on the table, offered my own opinions on the matter, and promised to visit headquarters in July. Sam had joined us while we were talking shop at my own insistence, but he had been ignored by the Northman in the room completely. Despite the fact that he had worked for the company for over a decade, I was pretty damn sure my dad wouldn't be able to pick Merlotte out of a lineup if his life had depended on it.
It was lucky for me- the first bit of luck I had had all day- that Sookie was at lunch when Sam and I had walked my father out. No sooner had the elevator doors closed with his departure than Sam had turned to me in apology.
"I really wanted to warn you, Eric," he insisted as the pair of us slumped back into my office, Sam half-closing the door behind us. We were a mess. I could be mistaken for the living dead, while Sam more resembled a kicked puppy. Dealing with my so-called dad was exhausting. "I tried, I really did. I know you don't get along as well as you'd like to…"
"You're wrong about that," I interrupted as he fell into the chair I had previously occupied. I couldn't interrupt him fast enough. "We get along just as well as I'd like to. In a perfect world, we'd probably get along even less than we do, but there's little changing it now." I stretched out on the couch, loosening my tie as I did. It felt too much like a noose for my liking. "It's not your fault. I know you tried to let me know."
I could try to blame whoever I wanted for my shitty morning: Sam for not being able to actually warn me of my father's presence, Pam for leaving me with a hangover, Sookie for not being to work early enough to intercept the unwelcome visitor (not that I even wanted to consider the disaster that would have been), but it wouldn't have changed anything. "But it doesn't matter," I continued with a shrug. "His name is on the side of the fucking building. He can come and go as he pleases and there's not anything you or I can do a about it. I can only hide from him so much."
"He really doesn't like Stan much, huh?"
I laughed humorlessly. And the award for understatement of the century goes to… "He's a shark. We're all sharks." Briefly, I remembered the scene in the meeting room with Sophie-Anne and had to amend my statement. "Maybe not you, but the rest of us, at least, and we're hungry, and there's blood in the water right now. If we can't sink our teeth into what we're after, we'll sink them in one another. It's not in our nature to like one another when we're fighting over the same kill," I pointed out while draping myself over my couch. "We don't even like ourselves that much." I especially wasn't liking myself right now. "He has it in his head that Northman & Davis should really be Northman & Northman," I shrugged before shaking my head. "No, there's no way he'd give me that much credit. Probably Northman & Son, something that would remind me of my place and be just a little degrading. I'd half-think he's shopping for hit men to eliminate the Davis problem if I didn't think he was mostly just trying to tell me what he thinks it is I want to hear." If that was actually the case, he really couldn't have been more fucking wrong.
I let out a breath I hadn't known I was holding as I rested my head on the back of the couch and stared up at the ceiling. "So he managed to get in your head in just a few hours?" Sam asked, but it didn't sound nearly enough like a question to me. Sometimes Sam knew me way too well to just be considered a coworker.
I didn't want to answer the question though, obvious as the truth was. I didn't like how easy it was for the Northman to get under my skin. Everything about my father felt ominous, and it had always been that way. I couldn't remember a time from my childhood when he had ever been mentioned for a good reason. Since joining him in his world, I couldn't remember a time when I had enjoyed his company. When I had finally met the man who had contributed the genetic material necessary to give me an existence after a lifetime of estrangement, the most lonely year of my life had followed. When I had worked side by side with him, I had gone through the motions of life without any real living of my own.
And now he was here, interrupting this new awakening I was in the middle of, inserting himself in a place I was supposed to be happy in… the place I shared with Sookie, the place she had humiliated Bill, the place I had snapped at Sophie-Anne in a board room full of people, consequences be damned…
I didn't like it.
It wasn't made any easier by the fact that too many of his words had lingered, infiltrating my place and my mind, despite the fact that he had made his departure.
I rubbed my forehead gingerly. "I might need to visit Dallas more often in the upcoming months," I decided while lifting my head once more and Sam nodded. "Especially if Stan is coming out here more for the LeClerq takeover." It would be a way to keep my father from making the trip to Shreveport to snoop himself on a regular basis. I needed to keep him out of my place and I needed to keep him away from Sookie. I didn't need his brand of taint on something I wanted to believe was so good for me, something I wanted to cherish for the foreseeable future and then some.
"Did you know Amelia was sleeping with my sister?"
The question, seemingly out of the blue, caught Sam by surprise and he sputtered like a fish out of water for a moment, his eyes wide as he adjusted his tie and tried to not look like I caught him completely off guard. "Amelia was… what?" It was obviously news to him.
"Well, sleeping is probably inaccurate," I amended with a shrug, which didn't seem to make him any more composed. "If they did any actual sleeping together, I don't really know." He continued to stare at me wide eyed, his confusion and discomfort obvious. I wish I could be so blissfully ignorant about Pam's sexual escapades as Sam had been before I painted the unsettling picture for him. He could share in my misery. He was a little red in the face, and I wondered if he was embarrassed. I tried not to laugh at his discomfort or enjoy it more than I should have.
"Do you want me to talk to Amelia about it?" he asked, shifting uncomfortably in the chair. "About the inappropriate…"
"No, Sam, it's fine," I interrupted, almost laughing at his assumption. "They're adults. I have a point I'm getting to." He looked relieved by that news. "And I can't really throw stones on that front anyway, even if I wasn't okay with it. Sookie and I stopped by Amelia's apartment this weekend while she was entertaining my sister, and Amelia had a thought that maybe you and I should really consider."
Sam nodded in relief, seeming grateful we were moving past Amelia and Pam's sex life. "Hit me with it then. I'm all ears."
"Maybe you and I should consider swapping," I answered, and immediately his eyes went wide again, clearly not entirely past the sex lives part of the conversation if his expression said anything. "Assistants. Swap assistants. Amelia and Sookie. You know Sookie and I are seeing where the two of us might go," he nodded, "and you know Pam calls me a lot," he nodded again, "and her and Sookie seem to go from friends to enemies in the blink of an eye. Amelia seems to be able to handle Pam…"
"Obviously," he interjected, unable to stop himself, though he looked fucking horrified by his intrusion.
I just laughed. "Obviously. And I don't know that it'd be the best thing for this office if Sookie and I were to remain so…"
"Entwined," he offered, and I was the one nodding this time. That was a good word for it, especially since I had a tendency to wrap myself around her like a cat in heat every fucking chance I got, regardless of the time or place, propriety be damned.
"She's good at her job, she's personable, and she'd be a real asset for you. She's caught on quickly, she never messes up my coffee order, and she's efficient," I continued. "But there'd be a distinctly different dynamic there between you, an important one to have, and one that her and I have never really had." He nodded silently, and I was nodding internally. I hadn't seen her since her morning intrusion, and I was still worried I'd be in trouble for my cold shoulder and dismissing her from my office so unceremoniously then. I'd fuck up plenty in our relationship entirely on my own, I didn't want or need to be held responsible and accountable for simply doing my job, or demanding she did hers.
It was much more than that, though. I didn't want to expose Sookie to my father again if I could help it, and I could help it. There was no better way to keep her away from the man than to put her an office away, working for a man I was positive my dad didn't give a shit about. When he called to bother me about Dallas, she wouldn't answer the phone. If he decided to check in on me, she wouldn't be seated outside my door, vulnerable to both his leering and his judgment. The handshake had been too much. I didn't ever want him to get the chance to lay a finger on her again.
I was haunted enough by him for the two of us already.
"I told you I'd share Amelia with you when you said you weren't sure things were going to work out, but this is sure a better plan than me having to break in a new temp every other week while waiting. I'd be sorry to see Amelia go, but I like Sookie. She sure keeps you on your toes. Have you talked to her about this yet though?"
"No, he hasn't, but he sure shoulda," a voice interrupted, but neither one of us needed to look to my door to know who it belonged to. Sookie pushed the door the remainder of the way open before entering, her hand on her hip as she looked between Sam and I before settling her narrowing eyes on me.
Sam and I simultaneously jumped up from our seats like our pants were on fire. "Yeah, so we can finish talking about this later then, Eric, no rush," he offered while making a beeline to the door and past Sookie as quickly as he could. Normally, I would have laughed, but this time, I couldn't blame him. He had seen her temper up close and personal when doing his best to keep her and Lorena from having an all out brawl in the parking lot and had the scratches to prove it. "Nice to see you again, Sookie," he offered in final parting before he disappeared from sight, running like a dog with his tale between his legs, and leaving me to my ass kicking in peace, without witnesses. Damn him.
"How much did you hear?" I asked while heading to my desk, if only to avoid having the confrontation in my doorway. I wasn't going to bother faking any innocence. I was never very good at it anyhow.
"Enough, Mr. Northman," she answered with enough bite that my cock didn't even twitch. Shit.
"I was going to talk to you about it when the time was right," I insisted while taking the chair behind my desk and motioning for her to shut the door behind her. I immediately began fiddling with the sunglasses I had discarded early in the day, just to give myself something else to focus on. "If Sam wasn't interested in it, it'd be a pointless conversation for us to indulge in…"
"You don't get to just decide things for me, Eric Northman," she interrupted. I opened my mouth to justify my actions further, but she held up her hand to stop me before I started. "I was hired as your assistant, you don't have the right to move me around without discussing it with me first. And I don't like hearin' you were thinkin' I wouldn't work out here." Again, she stopped me before I could speak. "But you're not wrong."
"Sookie, I was just…" My thoughts and voice trailed off as I sat back in my chair. "Wait, what? Did you just say I wasn't wrong?" My ears just had to be deceiving me.
Her lip quivered slightly, turning up at just the corner as she fought back a smile. My pants tightened in response. "I did."
"So in other words, I'm right?"
"No. I didn't say you were right. You're not right," she corrected, still fighting a smile. "I said you weren't wrong. There's a difference."
"Not really, there isn't."
"Don't push your luck, mister," she huffed before crossing her arms in front of her chest and forcing her cleavage to be a little more on display. My eyes were immediately drawn to skin spilling out over the top of her dress- skin I knew to taste delicious on my tongue- and she huffed even louder. "And that right there is one of the main reasons why you aren't wrong. You have all the self-control of a fourteen year old."
My gaze lifted to meet hers and though I imagined I was being scolded, I just didn't have it in me to look guilty. "Me? I have just as much self-control as you. If you didn't insist on jumping me every single chance you got…"
"What exactly 'bout don't push your luck, mister are you having such a tough time understandin'?"
"I can't help it, especially when you're putting some of my favorite toys on display like that," I argued, gesturing to her chest as her eyes widened and her cheeks flushed.
Her head shook back and forth in disbelief and I was pretty sure she was trying to hide her face behind her hair the best she could. "I want to apologize to you, but you're not makin' it real easy to remember I owe you one."
My eyebrow shot up. "For what?"
"This morning," she answered, and I winced openly at the memory. I was the one who felt that still foreign guilty feeling. "I didn't know-"
"I know you didn't. Neither did I," I interrupted. "Sam tried to warn me, but I wasn't in any condition to properly get that warning last night with Pam, or this morning while dealing with repercussions of Pam." Her eyebrow shot up, and I knew I'd be explaining that one later. "I just wanted to keep you out of it. He's gone for the day, but he'll be back. There's nothing I can do from stopping that."
She nodded once, but I could tell there was something more just waiting to get out. She studied my face for a long moment, slowly approaching me behind my desk until she had come to a standstill beside me, and I turned toward her. Her hands lifted to my face and she began to gingerly run her fingertips over my skin as I looked up at her. "And are you okay?"
My immediate reaction was to tell her yes, especially since she didn't seem to be pissed off at me. I really didn't need yet another day where Jason was the Stackhouse who liked me most. I knew Sookie believed just beneath the surface of me there was something ready to break because of my father, just like my mom had always seemed to believe, but I didn't think that was really true. His presence had been unexpected and it was unwelcome, but it wasn't something I couldn't handle.
But Pam- my reluctant, pain in the ass rock- was gone yet again and already I missed her and the assurance her presence gave me. My father's unexpected visit lingered in my mind and threatened my tomorrow. As much as I wanted to be fucking done with the tool and his mistress once and for all, the threat they posed tickled my thoughts in an annoying way, not to mention was written out in the healing skin across my face. The last few weeks of my life had been a whirlwind. I was off balance and I was constantly just trying to keep up.
So, was I okay?
"I'm getting there."
She nodded once, releasing a breath I hadn't realized she was holding at the honesty of my answer, before she leaned down and placed a quick kiss on my lips that was way too brief for my liking. "Good. We can get there together, then."
I didn't really mind the sound of that. Then again, she could be leading me to my doom, tell me as much, and I'd still probably follow along without a second thought just to be with her.
I could tell there was more on her mind though, but it seemed to take her a minute to gather the courage to ask. "Do you want to talk about it?"
I debated internally for just a second before shaking my head. A part of me felt that dreaded guilty thing again for it. Even though I hadn't wanted to hear it, Pam had reminded me the previous day (was it really only yesterday? it almost felt like years), Sookie had been battling her demons in front of me from the word go. Even if she had wanted to keep them away from me, in the end, I hadn't given her much choice but to face them in plain sight. Then there was me, analyzing everything internally to the point I convinced myself it didn't matter. Anything that remained of it, I squashed down further and kept it so close to the vest, it had somehow become an invisible suit of armor I hadn't even realized I was wearing. That didn't mean I was interested in chipping away at it either. It served its purpose.
If Sookie wanted to press it, she didn't let on. "Okay," she breathed quietly before offering me a bright smile that felt almost out of place in my dark office. "I'll let you get back to work then, Mr. Northman. You know where I am if you find yourself needin' me."
That was the kind of open invitation I could get behind, literally and figuratively, and from the shy smile she wore on her face as she left my office, she was well aware of it.
Besides a call from the Dallas office featuring a suspicious Stan wondering about my father's visit and how long he intended to be in Shreveport, the rest of the day passed uneventfully, something I had not only needed, but appreciated to the nth degree. I was past the point of being ready to call it a day when Sookie once more slipped into my office, and her presence immediately invoked thoughts of her offer.
"Getting ready to call it a day, Mr. Northman?"
"If I could call it a week, I would in a heartbeat."
"Then I hate to be the bearer of bad news, buuuut…" My eyes narrowed. I didn't want her to be the bearer of bad news either. How much was I supposed to take in one day? "You've got a couple of people waitin' out here to speak to you. They say it's real important."
I groaned. Shit. "Tell them to reschedule. Hell, tell them to just go away. I'm done for the day," I answered, not bothering to control the volume of my voice. I hoped they heard me and their sense of self-preservation would force them to run in righteous fear.
"Yeah, fuck you too, buddy!" Jason responded, charging through the open door and past his sister before Tray followed in on his heel. Whatever I might have been expecting, this wasn't it. The two of them could not have looked more out of place. I tried to remember a time when they had been in my office before, and couldn't think of a single occasion. They didn't get this particular part of my world. "You keep that up and I'm not puttin' out for you no more," he warned before rounding my desk and planting a ridiculous, sloppy, wet kiss on my cheek. "Who the hell am I kiddin'? Look at this face." He had grabbed hold of my lower jaw with one of his hands and shook it back and forth. "I just can't stay mad at you."
Tray passed me a tissue from the corner of my own desk so I could de-spittle myself and I was fucking thankful for that. "What's going on?" I asked while wiping my cheek of drool. "Did someone die? Was it Alcide? Is this about which one of us gets to claim Maria-Star? Do you want to rock, paper, scissors it or should we let Jason think of a number?"
"Sook called and told us 'bout your visitor," Tray answered and my eyes quickly shifted to the door as Jason took a seat on my knee, but Sookie had already slipped out of the door. "Thought you might be needin' somethin' to get your mind off of it, I reckon."
I fought a smile from curling on my lips. It was a surprising, but sweet gesture, even if I didn't think I really needed it. "She called you about it? What happened to just offering me mind-blowing sex?"
"Not tonight, darlin', I've got a headache, but looks like Jase is willin' to pick up my slack."
"Smartass," I laughed while Jason wrapped his arms around my neck, doing his part to confirm Tray wasn't off base. "You guys didn't have to come here. I'm doing fine. I was caught off guard, but…" My voice trailed off and I shrugged. "I'm fine." Tray and Jason exchanged a look that clearly told me they weren't buying the bullshit I was selling, but if they thought I missed it, they were wrong. Jason was always as subtle as a Mack truck. "Really."
"We believe you," Tray answered, even though I didn't believe he did. "We ain't arguin', but we're already here."
"So we might as well tie one on," Jason finished, giving my own tie a tug to illustrate his point. I wondered how much they had rehearsed if even Jason knew his line. I could tell there was little point in arguing and stubborn as I was, I could never refuse their company.
Standing up from my desk chair, Jason slipped out of my lap and landed in a heap on the floor, knocking his head loudly enough against my desk as he got up, Tray and I winced. "Sorry, Jase. You didn't hurt anything important, did you?"
"Just my ass," Jason answered, giving the offending ass a rub while completely ignoring his head. "Sooner we can get outta this place, the better. I feel like someone's gonna sell me some insurance."
It didn't take us long to decide the best place to get our drink on for the night was my house. I had been expecting a night with Sookie, getting the celebrating we had planned for the previous night underway, or at the very least getting the day I had out of my head, but time with my two-thirds of my 'sewing circle' wasn't bad either. The three of us ordered more pizza than we could eat and had set up camp in my backyard around the pool.
"Why the fuck do we spend Saturdays at my house with Maxine Fortenberry eyefuckin' us again?"
"Because I don't like you enough to offer it as an option and you need to be there in case she needs CPR."
"Oh yeah," Jason nodded before his brow wrinkled as he sat up on his lounge chair. Uh-oh. Jason was trying to figure something out. You could practically see the steam coming out of his ears. This wasn't going to end well. "Hey! You're a bastard, Northman." Tray and I both laughed. "You're still invited to the back of my truck anyway, dillhole."
"Can Tray come?"
Jason's eyebrows waggled up and down. "I can get into that action," he decided before tossing Tray a wink. "How you doin', Dawson?"
"Not nearly drunk enough to answer that question how you want me to, Jase."
"Well, what are you waitin' for?" he asked, exasperated. "Ain't we supposed to be drinkin' our fine asses stupid?"
"That's what? Like one and a half beers for you?" I asked and Tray chuckled on the chair beside me.
"I don't know the math of it none," Jason answered, making Tray and I both laugh. "But this is my fourth beer."
"Actually explains a lot," Tray muttered, only making me laugh harder, while Jason tried to figure out how he had managed to miss the joke. While he puzzled through it, Tray turned his attention fully on me. "What'd the old man want this time?"
"Same old, same old," I answered with a shrug of my shoulders and Tray just nodded. "He's convinced I'll change my mind. He made a point of keeping me out of his life for twenty years, I don't know why he's so fascinated now. I'm not that fucking interesting now, despite what Pam seems to think. Something new will spark his interest soon enough. Probably something in a skirt, if I know him."
"Where is Pam tonight?" Jason asked, not paying attention to anything after my sister's name hung in the air for him to paw at. "I miss my new favorite girl. Might just have to fan the flames of her desire with my presence tonight…"
I rolled my eyes and Tray shook his head with all the sympathy he could muster for the man-child who refused to understand the concept of lesbianism. "She went home this morning after spending the night trying her best to poison me."
"What?" Jason asked, jumping up from his chair and charging past both Tray and I before heading into the house to check, his voice carrying as he began his inspection. "How could she leave me without tellin' me? I thought we had somethin' special!"
"He didn't care at all that she tried to poison me, did he?"
Tray shook his head. "It ain't nothin' personal, Eric, you know that. He's just not a one-man kinda manwhore. Don't try to change him, just love him for what he is."
"Cheap and incredibly dimwitted?"
"Exactly," he nodded sagely. "Who can't appreciate that?"
I considered it for a moment before deciding he had a point. "I'll drink to that," I offered and we both lifted our bottles into the air before taking a drink.
"I can't believe she really left me," Jason pouted as he made his return to the patio, plopping onto the ground between Tray and I as he waited for the sympathy to come flooding in from us. He was met with silence. A cricket somewhere on my lawn actually made its presence known. "You guys can really be asshats." We both laughed. "She could be the one!"
I looked at Tray. "I don't have the patience to explain it to him again."
"And I'm not drunk enough yet."
We set to remedying that immediately.
I wasn't sure when I drifted off, but I was awoken from a dreamless sleep by the sound of my doorbell. My body was stiff and my muscles screamed in protest as I got up off the lounger I had turned into a bed, knocking over a few discarded beer bottles as I stood. Tray snorted from a lounger beside me at the sound, but didn't further move, his face hidden under a well-worn ball cap. It was still dark, but I looked around for Jason, finally spotting him in the center of my pool, afloat atop a pool raft. He was laying of it face first, his hand stroking the plastic in his slumber. Something told me I'd need to throw that out in the morning. Something also told me I didn't want to touch it with my hands.
The doorbell rang again, and I staggered my way inside drowsily, a steady stream of incoherent grumbling parting my lips until I reached my goal. I threw the door open a little more roughly than I meant to, ready to tell off the intruder for interrupting my uncomfortable sleep, when I was greeted by a vision of Sookie.
She looked a little apprehensive and slightly nervous. I couldn't begin to imagine how I looked, still in that blissful place between sleep and intoxicated. A quick glance down and I realized I was still in my work clothes, though I had lost my jacket and tie at some point, and my shirt was mostly unbuttoned. Her piece of shit car was parked behind my baby and beside Tray's pickup in my driveway, and after a moment of processing that and deciding this wasn't a dream, I opened my mouth to begin a lecture about how she was supposed to be more careful at night.
It died on my lips as she pressed a finger against them. "Shhh," she instructed in a whisper before letting her finger drop from my lips in order to take my hand. She slipped inside, locking my front door behind me, and in just a moment more, she was leading me through my own house on tip toe.
The moment she closed my bedroom door behind us and released my hand, I turned on the light, blinking in the sudden brightness. My eyes never had a chance to adjust before she had turned them off again, the little moonlight that seeped in through the windows the only source of illumination to the room. I opened my mouth again, but my words, whatever they would have been, died on my lips as she shushed me again.
She turned around, offering her back to me, and lifted her hair up and out of the way. She turned her head, catching my eye before my focus went to the zipper of her dress. She didn't say a word, but I didn't need instruction. The moment the zipper was parted, I pushed it from her shoulders, and as she let her hair fall over her shoulder, it pooled on my floor, leaving her in nothing but a pair of panties.
I groaned aloud as my body reacted to the sight in front of me. "Shhhh," she insisted over her shoulder once more, a playful smile across her lips. My head dipped down, my lips finding purchase against the smooth skin of her shoulders. Her skin smelled of flowers, but tasted of sunlight and summer and that something that was decidedly her. I hadn't realized just how much I had missed it until my lips and tongue were thoroughly reacquainting themselves.
Her body shivered as my breath washed over her skin, but I gave her a moment of reprieve as my lips found her ear. "Are you trying to seduce me, Miss Stackhouse?"
Her hands flew to her face, covering it, a laugh silently working its way through her body. Even in the dark and with her back to me, I could tell she was blushing. Before she could shy away further, my hands were at her hips and dragging the thin material that separated her from me to the floor to join her discarded dress.
My knees followed with a thud, and Sookie turned on the spot to face me, her hands dropping to my shoulders as her face turned down to me in concern. "Eric? Is something wrong? Are you okay?"
And then, it was my turn. "Shhh," I instructed, pressing a single finger to my lips, but it was better suited elsewhere. My hand traced up her thighs, the skin so soft beneath my touch, until my fingers found her center, hot, wet, ready. She offered no resistance as I parted her folds and entered her. Her hands gripped my shoulders, her fingers digging into them with all she had.
I breathed her in, I tasted her on my tongue, on my lips. I wanted more. I needed more. She offered it.
Heat radiated off of her and I bathed in it, I devoured it. I ached for more.
Her arms shook as she continued to support herself under my ministration. She bit her lip, struggling to keep from crying out, trying to win this twisted game of quiet as I curled a finger within her and she gave herself over to me.
Clenching. A delicious whimper. I don't know and I don't care whether it was hers or my own.
The moment I stood, she was on me, her lips meeting mine in a frantic battle for control neither one of us could lose at. I tasted her on my lips, my teeth, my tongue, and I shared it readily. Her hands made quick work of my belt and pants while I sent my shirt to join the amassing pile on the floor.
And then she was on my bed, looking as if she had always belonged there, a hand outstretched and beckoning me to join her. My body responded without direction, responding to the call of its siren.
Her tiny hand wrapped around my cock and she guided me home. Fuck.
The groan of satisfaction, of connection, was consumed by a kiss that threatened to burn me alive. Our bodies moved in hot, sweaty, delicious tandem. Her hips rose to meet mine with every slow, deliberate thrust. She gave as good as she got.
More.
I silently begged, I silently screamed. Our bodies answered my twisted prayers.
My body sang her praise, from the top of my head to the tips of my toes. Her hands, her talented hands, gripped me, pulled me, scratched me, dug into me, encouraged me deeper adrift into this sea. Toes curling. Pushing, panting, drowning. Who needed air?
And as the struggle reached its peak, we were under. We clung to one another, keeping the other close so as not to lose them. Bright bursts of light behind closed eyelids. A tangled mass of sweaty limbs that shook of their own volition. I didn't know where I ended and she began. Now ask me if I cared.
How could it even be possible? So good? So right? Still? Fuck philosophy now, my arms couldn't even support their own weight and I threatened to suffocate my seductress beneath me.
Our bodies were reluctant to separate. Neither of us seemed to blame them. I fell back on the bed beside Sookie, and her body immediately curled into mine, her head resting on my shoulder as my arm wrapped around her, wanting to remind me she was real, and here, and mine.
And neither of us said a word before sleep took us.
A/N: Two years and you still rock my world. Thanks for the reviews, watches, and favorites. I'll try not to let you down.