Fangtasia Stories: Tracey - Cutlass of Destiny

Set after the short story Dracula Night and before Dead as a Doornail

"Well, that was certainly an exciting party. No one can say that we don't put on a good show here at Fangtasia," Eric said, closing the door to his office behind him. Pam and Sookie were both in there, sitting on the sofa. He had just finished getting cleaned up, and had donned Pam's fluffy pink robe which she kept there for emergencies. It was quite short, of course, and he could've dressed in any number of more appropriate outfits, but a little display of leg could be forgiven, and he enjoyed the pink softness.

He slowly walked towards his desk, rubbing at his wet hair with a small towel. The reaching action really made the hem of the robe scoot up, he was more than aware of this. There would be a lot of exposed thigh on show. He sat down in his big leather swivel chair and ignored Pam's smirking. The front of the robe gaped open, revealing his magnificent chest and perhaps some nipple. His ladies wouldn't mind.

"Quite entertaining, wouldn't you agree?" He directed his question at Sookie.

"Oh, very," she replied, with a hint of embarrassment.

"Did you enjoy it?"

"Um, enjoy what?"

"The party, of course," Eric smirked. "What else?"

"Oh, yeah." Sookie shook her head. "Well, I mean no. I staked that vampire. That wasn't so enjoyable."

"No? Well, he deserved it."

Eric was still reeling. Some wannabe dared to infiltrate his bar, then 'declared' himself to be Vlad Tepes, stripping off to reveal some random sparkly catsuit (seriously, who was this fool?) and made all sorts of outrageous demands, including one to drink from Sookie. Eric had been momentarily taken off guard, only because he'd expected the Dark Prince to actually turn up, but Sookie had cleverly sniffed him out as an imposter and rammed a stake into his stupid, sorry heart. Eric had helped see him off, with a swift tap to the wood.

"Well, I had an absolutely wonderful evening," Pam said, stoney-faced. "It's a shame all the guests had to leave so early. Sookie, are you sure I can't get you something else to wear? Eric has very rudely taken my robe, as you can see, but I have other things you could change in to. I have a new red corset which I believe would suit you very well."

"No thanks. I've cleaned up as much as I can, and it's not so bad."

Pam cocked her head to the side and gave her puppy dog Pam Pam eyes.

"Sure?"

"I'm fine, honestly Pam."

"Well then, I'd better supervise the removal of what remains of Mr. Spangly Catsuit," Pam said, before getting up and standing over Sookie. "Such a cute dress, too. Still, the heels can be saved. You need to learn to step back just before the point of impact, and direct the blood flow away from your outfit, when the need arises."

Sookie stared back at her a little shocked.

"Thanks for the advice, Pam. I'll be sure to try and remember that, next time I'm staking a vampire in my best party dress."

"Any time, sweet cheeks." She gave her a wink, before wandering out, closing the door behind her.

Eric looked over at Sookie, flopped out tiredly on the sofa, her lovely pink dress spattered with blood.

"Are you sure you are alright?" he asked with some concern. "You have had quite an evening."

"I'm okay. I just feel a bit drained." Sookie laughed at the word, and Eric's lip curled up into his lopsided smile. She took another gulp of water from the bottle she was holding.

"Thanks again for inviting me to your party, by the way. I'm sorry the real Vlad didn't turn up, and that I staked someone in your bar. Maybe he'll visit next year, huh?"

"Perhaps. I don't really care."

"Yes you do," Sookie teased. "You were like a little kid at Christmas when I got here, all excited and freaking out about the special blood you had to get for him, and whether you'd got enough. It's nice to see you, ya know, having fun."

"I was not freaking out."

"You were, a little bit. I thought it was kinda cute."

Did she just call me cute? Eric thought. There was an uncomfortable silence. Eric finally rose from his seat, stretching his unbelievably large, long limbs, before heading for his closet. He opened the door and looked inside.

"Your quick thinking was impressive," he said, flicking through the rail. "Good job you did your homework on the Prince of Darkness."

"Yeah, I guess so. He wasn't very convincing, though, I thought. I'd have probably staked him anyway, since he was out to bite me."

"Always the survivor. Even the real Tepes might have trouble taking you down. No vampire is safe when Sookie Stackhouse is around, wielding a deadly weapon."

"Hey, I only killed two. With Lorena I got lucky, she basically staked herself. And technically, you were the one that plugged that guy tonight, not me."

"I just helped quicken the blow, you would still have done the deed. Don't be ashamed, Sookie, it was brave, and you did the right thing."

Sookie seemed a little confused at her new position of vampire slayer; sort of proud and yet guiltily distraught. He decided to change the subject, and pulled some tight black jeans from a hanger, along with his leather shorts. He held them both up.

"Which ones? Unbelievably tight, thigh-hugging, black hipster jeans or obscenely tight, ass-hugging, exceedingly snug, black leather shorts?"

Sookie looked away, wide-eyed with embarrassment.

"Um..."

"You choose."

"Jeans," Sookie said, shifty eyed. Eric smiled and started to pull them on.

"Excellent choice."

Sookie looked away again, but couldn't resist a cheeky peek, and just managed to sneak a glimpse of that backside she missed so much. Eric turned just in time to catch her looking, but he didn't say anything. He shed the fluffy robe, and zipped up, leaving the button undone for some extra fun.

"You don't mind me changing in front of you, do you?"

"No," Sookie said quickly, her voice a little too high-pitched. "I mean, it's your office. You can do what you like in it." Oh, if only he could do what he wanted in it, he thought.

"Well, I hope you do not think me rude, anyhow. I know how well you value good manners. I think you've seen quite a lot of me anyway, haven't you?"

Eric looked at her, letting the question hang in the air.

"Well, I suppose I... when I picked you up at New Years, you just had your jeans on."

"Hmm. Tell me, Sookie, why did you stop for me?"

"What?"

"When I was running near your house." Eric flicked through some shirts, but wasn't really looking. "Why did you stop for me?"

"Oh." Sookie obviously wasn't expecting the question, and it took her a few seconds to gather her thoughts. "Why wouldn't I stop for you? I thought you might be in trouble. People don't usually turn up running half naked down my road barefoot, and with you, well, I guessed there might be more to it, some kind of trouble."

"You might've been in danger."

"Well, nothing new there, huh?" Sookie smiled ruefully. "You might've been in danger, too."

"It was foolish. It could have been anyone, and even after you realized who I was, someone might have been chasing me. You could have been hurt."

"Well hey," Sookie said, a little aggravated. "Next time I might not bother."

"There will not be a next time," Eric growled. There was no way he was letting witches get the better of him again.

"Good," Sookie said, emphatically, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

There was another pause in conversation. Eric did not like where it was going. He pulled out two tops from the closet.

"Spangly boob tube or pink tank?"

Sookie tried not to smile, but she couldn't help it, and she giggled. Something inside Eric leapt in response to the lovely sound she made.

"Boob tube. Definitely boob tube."

Eric considered putting it on for her amusement, but he wanted to speak with her and she wouldn't take him seriously wearing it. He shoved it back in the closet and pulled out a Fangtasia t-shirt. He took his sweet time, working his body into the tight confines of the cotton garment.

"You said you preferred me when I didn't know who I was," he said, running a hand through his damp, tangled locks, after smoothing down the shirt.

"Oh. I…"

He sat back down in his chair, and turned in her direction, putting his feet up on his desk.

"Why?"

"Because, well, maybe I…"

"What did I do while I was cursed that made you prefer me that way? How was I different?"

Sookie took her time considering her response, and Eric patiently awaited her answer.

"You didn't have your memories, and you didn't know that you were some big-shot powerful sheriff. You treated me like a real friend, not just like some minion there to do your bidding."

Eric cocked an eyebrow. "Am I not a friend to you? Have I treated you badly?"

"Well, no."

"So how was I different?"

Sookie sighed. "You were sweeter. You had more time for me, time to listen to me. That's all." She stopped abruptly and looked like she was determined not to say anything more. She also looked a little emotional, and Eric didn't like where that was going. He decided to change tactics.

"What did we do, at your house? Did we have fun?"

"Er, sure."

"What kind of fun?" He waggled his eyebrows. "Was it naked fun?"

"No."

Sookie answered too quickly, and he noticed that her eyes flitted over his body, almost too quickly to notice, and she rubbed her knees together very slightly. Eric picked up on everything. Body language was one of his specialties, and he preferred to read Sookie's body above any other.

"Why will you not tell me about my stay at your house? I must have done something with my time there. I presume you kept me entertained." Sookie remained quiet. He took his feet off the desk and sat forward in his chair, elbows braced on his knees. "Do you know how frustrating it is to lose memories?"

"I'm real sorry about that, Eric. Nothing much exciting happened. I just kept you hidden and we, you know, watched some TV, played some board games, did a couple of jigsaws…"

"Well, that does sound like lots of fun. Were there any other types of fun we indulged in? Perhaps something a little more exciting, or physical?"

"We, er, did some scrapbooking."

"Some what?"

"Like, cutting out pictures, and sticking them in a book, that kind of thing. Some découpage…"

"I don't think so. Even without my memories I wouldn't have done that, I am quite certain. Not unless they were naked pictures of you and me." Eric grinned at the potential of such a hobby. He might actually look into it.

Sookie blushed and sat forward on the seat, before she stood.

"Well, I guess I'd better go."

"You still haven't told me the truth about that blood on your coat, either. Why will you not tell me what happened?"

"Please, Eric, I should be getting home, and I have to drive all the way back to Bon Temps."

Eric rolled his eyes and ruffled his damp hair in frustration.

"I will drive you back, in your car. It is very late, and you are obviously tired."

"Oh. Well, thanks. I don't wanna cause too much trouble."

"It's no trouble."

He looked up at her, all blood-spattered and crumpled, like a crash-test Barbie, and fought back the urge to laugh. Trouble was her middle name.

V V V V V V V V V V V V V V V V V V V V V V V V V V V V V V

Next day, Eric was back at the bar. All the decorations had been taken down, and vampire remains disposed of. Pam popped up from behind the bar, and he sat down in one of the booths, spreading out his newspaper.

"I found some flaky vamp residue down here. I thought it was all hoovered up. Those cleaners just aren't good enough, we need to try that other company, Corpse-U-Clean."

"They are very expensive."

"You get what you pay for." She ran a finger over the bar, looked at it and scowled. "I can't believe how much money we spent on that party for Dracula Night. And a dead vamp to clean up too. What a wash out."

"Pam, shut the fuck up."

"Still, it is clean enough," Pam said, taking a seat opposite. "We should be fine to open again tonight. I know that the evening wasn't what you hoped for, but still, we had some fun. That was a nice tag team stake move you and Sookie pulled on that stupid imposter. It was very clever and perceptive of her, wouldn't you agree, tricking him into revealing himself?" She waited for some reaction from Eric but didn't get one. "Plus she looked good. Don't you think?"

"Hmm," Eric finally offered in response.

"People admired my rather eye-catching silver lamé tuxedo. It got many positive comments, and some very jealous glances, especially from that inbred were-panther fellow, Norris. You looked hot too, in that tux, but of course you know that. Sookie called you James Blond," Pam grinned. "She almost fainted when you kissed her. I heard the elastic of her panties give out. Pa-dooooiiing!"

Eric slowly raised his head to give her a glare, before lowering his eyes back to the newspaper. Pam smiled and continued.

"It was a shame the party had to finish so early. Did the party continue, after you took her back to Bon Temps?"

Eric sighed, and didn't look up. "I drove her home, saw her safely in, and flew back. Nothing more."

"Well, never mind." She sat back and pulled at her long ponytail, checking for split ends that were never there. "That stupid charlatan, Milos whatever his name was, thinking he could outwit us with his stick on beard and bad accent. What an absolute cheek."

"Pam..."

"Oh, and when Bill said he'd use his database to trace who the imposter was, I could have vomited, I really could. God, him and his fucking database. It's not even that good, mine would have been so much better. I would have interviewed everyone, and got some really good professional shots..."

"Pam, seriously, just stop. You haven't stopped talking since I arrived, and I am not in the mood. Are we interviewing for a new bartender this evening?"

"Yes, I have all the details of the candidates. I have shortlisted three potentials."

"Good. We will see them in my office when they arrive. Until then I would prefer to be left alone. I have lots of work to take care of, and would prefer some peace and quiet."

Pam crossed her arms and pulled a face at him as he walked past her, down the corridor to his office.

Curiously, the first two candidates didn't turn up, and when Pam tried to phone them, they weren't picking up, either. She imagined that perhaps they had heard about the tendency for Fangtasia bartenders to meet their end, quite violently.

The third did arrive, though, on time, which in itself gave him some Brownie points with Pam. She showed him into Eric's office, before taking a seat beside the sheriff.

"Charles Twining, at your service."

The curly-haired vampire bowed deeply, and when Eric nodded towards the chair, he sat down.

"Well, Mr. Twining, thank you for coming. I am Eric Northman, sheriff of Area 5 and joint owner of this establishment. This is Pamela Ravenscroft, my child, second-in-command, and another joint owner of Fangtasia. I believe you have spoken with her."

"Yes, it is a great pleasure to meet you, sir. I have heard of you, of course, and spoken with Ms. Ravenscroft when I inquired about the job. And please, call me Charles."

"Have you done bar work before, Charles?" Pam asked.

"Not very much, no."

"Any at all?"

"When I was human I did a short stint at an inn, that was approximately three hundred years ago. I can also dance a merry jig, and I have experience with scrubbing decks and keel hauling."

Eric noticed Pam glancing at him out of the corner of her eye, but he didn't look at her. She looked away and made some notes.

"A merry jig, you say?" Eric said.

"Very merry, yes indeed, sir."

"Well, I think we'd like to sample said jig, wouldn't you say, Pam?"

"Oh, oh yes. I think so."

"Right-o," Charles said, getting up. "I haven't prepared anything specific, and I don't have any music, so you'll have to bear with me."

Eric nodded.

"We don't mind if you freestyle," said Pam.

Charles moved his chair to the side to give himself some space, and took a moment to prepare. He started once, flapping his arms, and then stopped himself, shaking his head. He prepared for a restart, forming the beat in his head, mouthing one, two, three, four. He started again, sort of folding his arms and holding them out in front of him, and lifted each foot in turn in a kind of skipping motion. Then he brought his knees up further, pointing his toes, and swayed from side to side.

Pam laughed throatily, then stopped abruptly, and pretended to clear her throat. She pinched at her lips with her fingers, trying to not let it out. Eric sat there observing the moves with a serious look on his face.

Charles turned around in a circle, then finished with a flourish, holding his arms out in front of him and bowing deeply. He stood straight again, looking at Eric and Pam for any sign of their approval, but there was none. Eric sat there stony-faced, and Pam was whimpering slightly, her lips tightly shut and quivering, and her eyes were slightly bloody. He finally repositioned the chair and sat back down.

"Any other talents?" Eric asked.

"Knots?"

Eric sighed.

"I have a scenario for you," Pam said, daintily dabbing at her eye with her middle finger. "How about if there was trouble in the bar. Say, a female human is trying to hit on you, and her boyfriend comes in and starts causing a scene. How would you deal with that?"

"Hmm." Charles cocked an eyebrow and tugged slightly at the hairs of his little beard. "Well, I would try to deflate the situation using my natural pirate charms. Perhaps make a joke with the young man, and make it clear that I had no designs on the lady."

"What if he continues, and perhaps says something derogatory about your curly hair?"

"Like what?"

"I don't know, like... you have ladies hair, or that it looks like a wig, or you look like Cher, something like that."

"Cher?"

"Yes, Cher."

"Well, I would probably find some fault with his appearance, and put him in his place. Humans should know that vampires have the upper hand, especially in a vampire establishment, and respect should always be shown."

"Indeed. What would your comeback be? Say he was a short man, with a receding hairline, and a slightly high-pitched voice."

"Probably I would focus on the hair, as he did mine. I would point out that I still retained a full head of hair, unlike him, even though I likely had a few centuries on him. That might shut the blighter up momentarily."

Pam made some more notes. "And then?"

"I would smile, perhaps show some fang, then point out bar rules and ask him to be more respectful. I wouldn't threaten violence unless absolutely necessary, and glamoring would be used sparingly in such a public place."

"Hm-mm." Pam did some more scribbling.

"Can you wield a blade, Twining?" Eric asked.

"Of course, sheriff. I flatter myself but I believe I am quite highly skilled. I still have my cutlass, from my human days. She's a fine piece of weaponry, so she be."

"She? Do you have a name for her?"

"Indeed I do, sir. Tracey. I love her as well as I ever have any woman, or ship. It's not easy keeping a blade in good condition in the salty, abrasive atmosphere you experience while sailing the high seas, but I treated her with the care and attention she deserved, these three hundred-so years. She has never failed me."

Pam rolled her eyes.

"Really?" Eric gave a slight smile. "Very good. Well, I think we have heard, and seen, enough. Do you have any questions for us?"

"Ah, is there a uniform?"

"No. Just the usual over-the-top vamp stuff. The more piratey the better for you I would say, and the more entertainment for the patrons. Would the eyepatch impede your bartending capabilities, do you think?"

"Oh I doubt it. I've been one-eyed for centuries now, and it never made much difference."

"Excellent. Anything else?"

"No, no I think that's it."

"Good. Then we will let you know, Charles. Thank you for coming. Clancy."

Clancy opened the door and saw Charles out of the establishment. Eric turned to Pam.

"What do you think?"

"That jig was terrible."

"He was dancing without music, Pam. Give him some credit."

"Yes, but still, if that's his number one party-piece and he's supposedly had three hundred years of merry jig dancing experience, I would expect something a little more spectacular. His skills are all ship-related or pirate-based. There is really not much use for jigs and keel hauling these days. He needs to take some evening courses, learn some new skills. Something slightly more transferable than the Hornpipe."

"Yes, but we would not need him to dance. We are not recruiting for dancers, we are recruiting bartenders."

"Well, he doesn't have much experience in that either. He would probably make a better dancer. We should've got him working the pole."

"He has a certain charm about him, and a calmness. I think he would please the humans, keep them entertained. You have researched him?"

"Yes. He says he is from the Jackson nest, and I have found nothing to prove otherwise. You know how they come and go with Mississippi. Mr. Twining appears to come up clean, and everything checks out."

"Well then, I say we take him on, give him a couple of weeks and see if he works out. We can always get rid of him if he turns out to be useless."

"Very good, as you wish. I will make arrangements."

"Pam."

She turned as she opened the door.

"What?"

"Do me a merry jig." She rolled her eyes, and he smiled. "Go on, just for me, your special Viking."

"I am not wearing the right clothes. I cannot do a jig in these heels, you'll have to wait until I get changed back into my comfortable slacks and loafers."

"I know you can do it. Come on, Pam. Do it for your maker."

She sighed, and gave in. "Oh, alright."

She hitched up her filmy black dress and did some skippy leg moves, which were more in the vein of Riverdance than a nautical jig, but Eric was none-the-less amused. She hopped to the side, shading her face with her hand like she was looking out to sea, then repeated the move in the opposite direction.

"Look at me," Pam sang. "Ha-har, me hearty! I'm a cheeky pirate, doing a merry jig, la-la-lalalala-la!"

There was a coughing noise behind her, and she stopped and turned. It was Charles Twining, popping his head around the door, which was still ajar.

"I beg your pardon, I er, forgot to ask about the hours."

"Five days a week. Eight until three," Pam snapped. "But it changes of course, depending on the day and the season. Overtime is often available."

"Right. Thank you. I'm... I'll be going now."

He closed the door behind him. Eric immediately burst into laughter. His child never failed to amuse him.

"Oh, that was superb. Off you go, Pam. As you were." He shook his head and got back to work.

Pam put her hands on her hips and huffed. She hated getting caught out like that. She reached for the door again.

"And Pam."

She rolled her eyes for the third time in less than ten minutes, before turning around.

"Yes."

"Your jig was much better. Seriously."

She closed the door behind her. She was still smiling when she got out into the bar.

A/N: Hey you wonderful people! So, I couldn't resist including Dracula Night, since pretty much the whole thing was set in Fangtasia. Hopefully everyone is familiar with that short story. CH admitted herself that the story didn't quite fit chronologically. I liked it, anyway, for obvious Fangtasia-based reasons! Also, I know some of you were missing Sookie, and I was too. The end of Dracula Night seemed like the perfect opportunity for some E/S flirting.

My fancfic angel Ericizmine made me a banner for this story! Woot woot! (She also very kindly made one for my other story Dead or Alive). I never had a banner before, and to say I was touched is an understatement. I was more touched than ASkars might be after he accidentally wandered into my bedroom, naked, after I just woke up from a rather beautiful naked ASkars dream. Just a different kind of touched, obviously. Banner link is on my profile page. Check it out, it's superb! Thank you Ericizmine! : D