Fangtasia Stories: Were-Tigers Suck

Set during Definitely Dead

In retaliation for her little underpant jape, Eric concocted a quite complicated but ultimately worthwhile plot. It took a little organization, but within the space of a few days he was fully prepared to exact his revenge.

Operation Ultimate Fucking Embarrassment of Pam (or OUFEP, as Eric had been referring to it - he'd been unable to construct any better acronyms) was ready for commencement.

The evening began much like any other. Eric wandered into Fangtasia, looking sharp in an expensive, perfectly tailored, gray suit. He checked his emails, did a little work, and then went to sit out in the front for a while. He rolled his eyes when some of the fang bangers let out girly screams when they saw him, and perched himself on one of the stools at the bar.

"Warm me a True Blood, will you Felicia? O Positive."

She nodded, and while he was waiting, Eric turned and surveyed the bar. It was busy, but not exactly heaving. Quite a few vamps on duty. Perfect.

He clocked Pam, standing near the door. She was scowling at the breathers as they made their way through. Every so often she'd stop one and point at their shoes, and make some comment about how dirty they were or how unsuitable they were for a bar such as this, or make a point of asking them to tuck their shirts in. She liked to call them names like 'pathetic bloodbag' or 'worthless human scum', that sort of thing, generally aiming to make them feel inferior and uncomfortable. Pam liked to play the insulting and overbearing disciplinarian. She was the ultimate dominatrix, and many of the regulars that frequented Fangtasia absolutely loved her for it.

Eric noticed that she had lipstick on her teeth, even from quite a distance away.

"Pam," he said, raising his voice just enough to be heard over the music and the rabble, using his maker 'pull' to get her to look at him anyway. She looked over at him and mouthed a 'what?'

"Lipstick. Teeth." He gestured, pointing at his own mouth.

Pam understood, and rubbed at her teeth with her finger, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible, and then sucked them. She flashed him a toothy smile, and he mouthed 'It's gone'. She gave him an appreciative nod, and immediately went back to business, shaking her head at a fang banger who had wandered in wearing some PVC pants with the backside cut out.

"Here you go, Eric." Felicia placed the bottle on the bar, and Eric turned back around to face her.

"Thank you." He took a sip, grimaced, and tried to imagine it was real blood. "How are you enjoying Shreveport?"

"Very well."

"And the work?"

She shrugged slightly. "It is fine. Not as dangerous as I'd heard it might be."

Eric cocked an eyebrow. "Well, we oversee the bar quite strictly. We get very little trouble here at Fangtasia."

"Oh, I do not mean the patrons. I have heard that a number of bar staff have met their final death, recently. Pam says there is a telepath who picks them off, when she is displeased with them."

Eric shook his head, and tried to hide his smile.

"I can assure you, that is not the case. Miss Stackhouse does not purposefully seek to destroy Fangtasia bar staff."

"But it is true, though?" Felicia asked seriously. "Pam suggested I meet with her, to beg for her mercy, and see what I was up against."

Up against Sookie? An image flashed in his head, of himself and Sookie in the shower, naked and vertical and wet. He was grinding himself up against her, into some bathroom tiles. She was slippery with soap, and her mouth was open as she moaned in her pleasure. Hmm, interesting, Eric thought. That's a new one. He filed it away with the rest of his Sookie fantasies, to be pondered on later in more minute detail.

"I am sure you would not find her to be a particularly intimidating adversary," Eric said, sarcastically. "On first glance, at least."

Since she'd arrived, he'd noted that Felicia was hard-working, quiet, in general, and observant. Maybe too observant. She had picked up the reins at the bar very quickly, and Eric had been impressed with her professionalism. He had also appreciated her straight-talking. She was not one of these underlings who was forever wanting to please him or impress him, she just did her job.

But he really knew very little about her, and did not like the thought of relatively unknown vampires sniffing around Sookie.

"Was there any other reason you wanted to introduce yourself to her, other than Pam's random bullshitting?"

Felicia considered her response, taking a moment to wipe down the bar.

"I have heard she is quite beautiful, that there is something otherworldly and special about her. I have heard she is a telepath, of course, but I have never really thought there was anything special about telepaths. I admit I am curious to see her for myself." She bent to put her towel away, and then leaned on the bar, looking him in the eye. "She is said to be a favorite of yours, that you have an unusual interest in her. I thought she must be very spectacular, to have had such an effect."

Eric ground his teeth together, and his nostrils flared. Pam had warned him of these rumors which had been circulating. The gossip was getting out of hand, and was becoming dangerous. For everyone.

He calmed himself, using the method he sometimes employed, thinking of a basketful of kittens, tumbling over one another, pawing each other in the face. A little ginger one tripped up and actually fell out of the basket, and he had to retrieve it and carefully pop it back in with the others.

"Well, I can assure you that there is nothing extraordinary about her at all," he said, his tone level and serious. "She is indeed just another pretty human, who happens to have a talent which is valuable to me and my area. You would do well to stay away from Bon Temps. It is a very dull back-water and of absolutely no consequence. Bill Compton lives there, he is the resident mainstreamer, and he thinks he is doing worthwhile work, reaching out to the local redneck human population by holding Civil War lectures in church halls. That is what passes for entertainment, in that town."

"I have heard of Bill Compton, he is the small one with the man bangs, who runs like a girl."

"Yes, that's correct."

"I will be sure to avoid him," Felicia said, nodding.

"Good."

Eric gave her a curt nod before he rose from the stool, and headed across the floor to his booth. On the way there, he scanned the crowd and took the hands of three very beautiful and eager fang bangers, who immediately set about wrapping themselves around him, vying for his attention.

He slid into the seat, and the ladies followed. He sat back and sipped on his True Blood, while surveying his bar. The girls giggled and stroked and fawned over him, and Eric allowed them to.

"Ah," Pam said, drifting over after a while. "I see that you've got your appetite back. Once you are done being pampered, there's someone here to see you."

"Who?"

Of course he knew who. Bill was so predictable.

"Bill Compton. He looks, I don't know... scared. I was going to show him right over, but I didn't know whether you'd be retiring soon."

"Well, I will give him 5 minutes of my precious time."

Pam smiled and wandered off again, before returning again with Bill in tow. As usual he was looking miserable and pedestrian in nondescript polo-shirt and slacks.

"Compton. What brings you out of your shabby farmhouse and into my wonderful club?"

"I need to speak with you, Eric. I've been trying to call, but your phone is switched off and whoever is answering your phone here at Fangtasia keeps hanging up as soon as they hear my voice."

"Really? Well, why don't you sit down, and tell me what the problem is? Thank you, Pam."

Pam turned and sauntered off, and Bill sat down opposite Eric, the pretty girls taking the opportunity to squeeze themselves closer.

"I see you are back to your old self, sheriff," Bill snarled.

"Was I ever anyone else?" Eric responded, with a smile. "Now, what did you come all this way to see me about? I really am quite busy." He looked at the girl sitting to his right and brushed the back of his finger across her cheek and down her throat. She closed her eyes and moaned. "I am positively famished."

Bill looked around, scanning the bar, before leaning forward over the table.

"I have a problem, which I would like to discuss with you, in private."

"I really don't have time for your problems, Bill," Eric said firmly. "What is this all about?"

"It is in regards to your child," Bill whispered.

Oh really? No shit.

"What about her?"

"She has..." Bill paused to sit straighter again, searching for Pam in the crowds like a vamp meerkat, before leaning back in to Eric. "She appears to have developed a strange interest in me. I am quite concerned."

Eric removed his arms from behind the fang bangers, and sat forward.

"An interest, you say?"

Bill scowled. "Yes. An interest."

"What sort of interest?"

"She has been sending me rather inappropriate emails. She appears to have been developing her skills with Photoshop, and has sent me some very disturbing images." He shook his head, as if trying to remove said images from his brain. "Very disturbing," he repeated, shakily. "I received a message from her saying that she intended to visit me tonight, to do things to me."

"Hmm, I see. Pam has been speaking about you recently, now that you mention it."

"She has?"

"Yes. She does things like this sometimes, becomes obsessed, fixated. She will not give in until she has you, Bill. You might as well just yield to her. Afterward, she will soon get bored and move on, I am sure."

"But why now? She has never shown any romantic interest in me before."

Eric shrugged. "She is fickle like that. She will not just come out and say it to your face, because she will be embarrassed. If you speak with her, she will deny it. This is not unusual behavior for my child. One time she had a thing for Thalia, and stalked her for months. In the end Thalia just gave in and had sex with her, and after that Pam got bored and never bothered her again. It is the thrill of the chase that Pam enjoys."

Bill shook his head.

"I just... I don't know if I can."

"She is intimidating, I know. You prefer your partners more submissive," Eric said, with a hint of disgust.

"I... Pam is..."

Don't you fucking dare insult my child, Compton. Eric considered simply reaching out and swiftly crushing his dull, ugly head. But then that would ruin all the hard work he had put into this prank.

"She is scary," Bill finished, choosing his words wisely.

"Tell me," Eric leaned closer. "Has she begun sending... the gifts?"

Bill looked up, a shocked look on his face.

"Yes," he whispered. "This evening, I received... it was..."

"Dead things? With the heads of plastic babies?"

Bill brought his fist to his mouth and bit down, before nodding.

"You should just yield now," Eric advised. "Get it over with, before she starts making effigies of you and burning them."

"Look, sheriff, I came here tonight to ask for your assistance. Can't you ask her to stop, as her maker?"

Eric looked at the younger vampire sympathetically, and shook his head.

"She is very headstrong."

"Eric, please."

Oh, this is just priceless, Eric thought. He sighed deeply and rolled his eyes.

"Ladies, will you excuse me?" The girls reluctantly disentangled themselves and walked off, and Eric stood, pretending to look annoyed at having to interrupt his plans. "I will speak with her," he said.

Bill nodded his appreciation, and Eric went to find Pam. She was back by the door again, and he bent to her ear, making sure that Bill could see from where he was sitting.

"Pam," he whispered. "It appears that Bill has a little problem which he has requested we help with."

"Oh really?"

"Yes. He has a fang banger stalking him, one of them is here tonight and she has begun to get psychotic."

"Bill has stalkers?" Pam asked, surprised.

"Apparently so. There is no accounting for taste."

"I do not understand humans. So what does he want us to do about it?"

"She is just at that other table over there, next to my booth. Don't look over. Go up to him, and pretend like you want him, that he is yours. She will be scared of you, and back off."

"Oh no," Pam said, rolling her eyes. "I can't."

"It will only take a minute. You know how weak he is, he cannot do this himself. It is pathetic, and we do not want the breathers thinking our kind is so easily intimidated. Go on."

She closed her eyes, and Eric took the opportunity to nod over at Bill.

"All right. But you owe me. This really will be quite excruciating."

He smiled at her slightly, and they wandered back over to Bill. Pam sat down, and Eric remained standing.

"So, Bill, my darling," Pam rolled her eyes at her own words. "You are looking very sexy tonight, in those slacks," she said, disinterestedly. "Shall we go have sex somewhere, you... you... hot vampire, you." She pulled a face, and rubbed at her temple in her discomfort.

"Pam, I..." Bill began, his voice cracking. Eric looked at him, catching his eye, shaking his head ever so slightly. "Yes," he said, giving in. "Yes, let's just get this over with, Pam."

"Get it over with?" Pam said. "But we are lovers, you and I. Nobody else better have their eye on you," she said, jerking her head to the next table. "That would make me very angry. You do want me, don't you?"

"I... yes, of course I do."

"Tell him how much you care," Eric urged his child.

Pam gave her maker the evil eye, just before he turned and nodded to the DJ booth.

Then the music suddenly stopped.

"I love you Bill Compton," Pam said loudly. "You are mine and I'm going to have sex with you."

A number of shocked gasps and a couple of screams were all that was heard. Then Eric began to chuckle silently. He reached into his pocket and switched his tape recorder off.

"Perfect." He nodded again and the music restarted.

Pam let out a roar of anger as she realized what Eric had done.

"For the underpants," he said, smiling. He walked off in the direction of his office.

"What the?" Bill looked at her confused.

"Oh, you idiot," Pam scoffed. "He was just fucking around with you. It was a joke. What exactly did he do?"

Bill growled as the pieces fell into place.

"He sent me emails from your email address, suggesting you wanted me, with pictures of us. And then he sent me disturbing gifts from you. I thought you were stalking me."

"Oh please. You truly are brainless, Compton. Now he has me on tape saying I love you," she groaned, shaking her head. "I will never hear the last of it. And so many people in the bar heard. This is truly embarrassing. I don't like him at all," she said loudly to the crowds, pointing at Bill. "Ignore what I said before. It was a joke."

"I am going home," Bill said, pouting. "I really do tire of your childish games."

"Fuck you, Bill."

He gave her one last glare, before leaving.

Pam sat for a while, stoney-faced and furious. Finally, a smirk crept across her face. She had to hand it to her maker. That was a good one.

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

A couple of nights later, all was back to normal at Fangtasia. Eric and Pam had forgiven each other for their tomfoolery, and Eric promised not to bring out the tape recording without due warning or good reason. She changed her email password, and he made copies of the tape.

Pam knocked on Eric's office door, and went in.

"I just spoke with Sookie, like you told me to," Pam said. "I don't know why you cannot do your own summoning. What is this about, anyhow? Do you need her to come in for some random mind-reading again just so you can stare at her and be all conflicted and moody like an annoying Emo kid?"

He carried on typing, determined not to look at his child or rise to her taunting.

"I have had word about the summit; we finally have details of when and where it will be held. Sookie will be attending as my employee and I need to make her aware of arrangements."

"Send her an email."

"She does not have email."

"Well then you can call her to inform her of arrangements," Pam said, narrowing her eyes. "Why does she have to come here? Why Friday? Why not tonight, or tomorrow? Or Saturday?"

Eric didn't have much in the way of comeback on that one. He just wanted to see her, and for him, Friday was going to be ideal. He would have time to spend talking with her. Also, they had a band on at Fangtasia, and there was a strong possibility Sookie would do some of her marvelous dancing. He would wear a black tank-top and buy her a gift. It would be perfect.

"You know I prefer to do these things face to face. It is easier. She will have many questions. I will have more time on Friday."

"No, but you..."

"Pam," Eric interrupted, tired of the questioning. "Did you or did you not speak with her?"

"Yes, I did. You have not even told me about details of the summit yet. We won't have to share a hotel room this time will we? It was very annoying last time when I brought that marketing consultant back for sex and you were sitting there watching the Discovery Channel in just your socks. How was I supposed to explain that?"

Eric shrugged, and carried on typing.

"I enjoy watching historical documentaries and I sometimes like the coziness of socks. The carpets in that hotel were dirty, and I did not want to put my shoes on."

"What I mean is, how am I supposed to explain a huge naked Viking in my room just sitting there, grumbling about how their reconstructions aren't historically accurate? 'Oh, don't mind him. Just pretend like that massive, naked vampire isn't there, and get your pants off'." She shook her head. "It is not right. I am old enough to have my own room."

Eric sighed and rolled his eyes.

"Stop being a whiny bitch. What did Sookie say?"

"She said thank you for the calendar proofs."

That brought a smile to Eric's face immediately. He pictured her eyes widening and the blush reaching the surface of her cheeks when she saw the picture of him as Mr. January, naked save for a little white fur held in front of his most prominent feature.

"Will she be here Friday night?"

"No."

"Hmm?"

"She is being recalcitrant. She says she can't make it, because she has other plans."

"That damn Shifter can give her the night off, surely," Eric said, shaking his head. "He works his humans far harder than I do, and there are absolutely no benefits for employees at Merlotte's. He is practically a criminal."

"Oh, she's not working," Pam said, looking away with a mischievous glint in her eye. Eric finally stopped typing, and looked at his child.

"Then what is she doing? Did you make it clear that I had summoned her? Why does she refuse me?"

"She has a prior arrangement. A date."

Pam allowed the words to sink in, and it took a while.

"She has a what?"

"You know, a date. I believe you had one in 1949."

Eric ripped a chunk out of his desk. He looked at the piece of splintered wood briefly in his hand, before tossing it on the floor.

"Sookie does not date."

"Well, it seems she does now."

"Why would she want to do that?" Eric said, his voice a deep, low growl.

Pam shrugged. "It's what people do. It's not like you're beating down her door with flowers and chocolates and gravel, these days. Are you even aware how you glare at her, sometimes? It's very off-putting, I'm sure."

"I don't do that. I am perfectly normal. Who is she dating?"

Pam shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe you should ask her."

"She can see who she wants," Eric said. "I do not care."

"Hmm." She smirked, and crossed her arms, tapping her fingers against her elbow. "I can't think it's another vamp, can you? Unless it is someone in the Area who does not know your..." Pam tried to choose her words carefully. "You know. The fact that she is employed by you."

"Human?"

"She does not date humans, does she? It could not be Fae."

"Demon?"

"Oh, come on, really? Demon? Be serious."

"Well then it has to be..." Eric's eyes widened. "Fucking Lassie Merlotte."

"Or Hairy Herveaux?"

"She could not be seeing a Were. That is worse than her dating Compton."

"Marginally."

"Well then," Eric said. "If Sookie is too busy dating Shifters to come and see us, I shall have to go to her. Remind her where her priorities should lie."

Pam smiled. "Tonight?"

"No. I think I will visit her... oh, I don't know, how about Friday?"

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

"Sookie is dating a Were-tiger?" Pam said, following Eric down the corridor to his office.

"You heard correctly. She's dating that big bald half-wit Were-tiger, Quinn, the one who sets up the props and dresses up like a genie at our Amun ceremonies. When I visited her last night he was there, picking her up for their date." He opened the door to his office, took off his jacket, and sat down so heavily in his chair that it sounded like it might break. Pam stood in front of him, shaking her head.

"This is positively shocking. And to think I had such high hopes for her. I was beginning to quite like her, with her shotgun-toting and how she looked after you and dumped Bill. And how she so easily wrapped you around her little..."

"Er, Pam, I don't think you..."

"...Well, I just can't believe it. Big old bald genie Quinn. With our Sookie?"

Eric shrugged, and gave her an 'I know' face. Inside, however, he was feeling much less nonchalant about the matter. He really wanted to rip off Quinn's head and use it for bowling. Perhaps a Fangtasia bowling team could be fun. He tried to imagine which orifices he might use for the finger holes.

"Touching her," Pam continued. "Kissing her. Heavy petting, perhaps. Maybe more."

"Oh, I don't think it will go that far," Eric said, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. "This is their first date."

"This is not the 18th Century, Eric."

"No, I am very aware of what century it is, Pam. And, by the way, I got to third base on my very first date, and that was back in the 11th Century. But this is Sookie we are talking about. She would not do anything like that. She is respectable, and she does not make rash decisions like having sex with a Were-tiger she barely knows."

"What do you do on a date in the 11th Century?" Pam asked. "Farming? Irrigate some land?"

"You get to the good part, much more quickly."

Pam perched on the edge of the desk, looking at Eric, trying to gauge what his true feelings were about Sookie and her new beau. She could sense his anger, and see his mind whirring, considering his next move. She glanced at the telephone.

"Perhaps we could contact that company he works for." She smirked, and raised an eyebrow. "Get a quote on an event."

Eric looked up at her. "Why would we want to..." He clicked. "Oh. Yes, why not." He began tapping on his keyboard, and soon found the phone number. Pam lifted the receiver of the telephone on Eric's desk, and tapped in the numbers he read out.

"Hello there, yes," Pam said, politely. "Is this Special Events, the supernatural offshoot section of the company called Extreme(ly Elegant) Events?"

She made a point of pronouncing it Extreme Lyelegant Events, and made bracket gestures with her finger, for her own and Eric's amusement.

"Oh, I'm sorry. It's just a bit confusing. Why isn't the company just called Extreme Events, or Extremely Elegant Events, without the brackets? Hmm. Really. Well... yes. Look, whatever, I'm not all that interested, to be honest. Am I speaking to the Special Event Manager, for the Louisiana area? Oh good. I'm looking to get a quote on an extreeeemely elegant event." Pam winked, and Eric smirked at her.

"Excellent. A packmaster contest. Were-goats. Hmm. The er, Goats Cheese pack, from, um, Arcadia. Well, you probably wouldn't have, we're quite small, and we keep ourselves to ourselves. Goats are notoriously unsociable. Oh, just some fence jumping, and um, pole weaving."

"Mountain climbing," Eric whispered.

"And some mountain climbing. Preferably outdoors, yes. Yes. Then some proper hardcore goat fighting. Well, we can be quite violent, actually. There's no need to laugh, goats can be very ruthless."

Eric made a snorting noise, and Pam motioned with her hand to shush him.

"So how much might this cost? No, no catering. Well, just give me a ball-park figure. That's a ridiculous price. Do you have something against Were goats? Well there's no need to be rude, Mr? Are you a shifter of some sort yourself Mr. Quinn? Oh really? And I suppose you think you're better than me, just because you shift into a tiger, and I a goat? You think I'm inferior, isn't that right? Hmm? Sorry, what was that? Did you just insult my Were goat heritage?"

"Ask him if he grooms himself with his tongue and likes to lick his little hairy balls," Eric whispered.

Pam smiled, and nodded at him.

"At least I don't lick my hairy balls clean, Mr. Quinn," she said brusquely. "Mmm. Hm-mm, I bet you still do though, even though you can take a shower. I'll bet you can't help yourself. I bet you shift all the time for that sole purpose." She grinned at Eric. "Yeah? Yeah? Oh, you're the big man-tiger, huh? Well I could take you any time. Well that's fine with me, since I don't think I want to hire you anyway, Mr. Quinn. I think you're overpriced and very rude. You've insulted me and if I were there, I'd hoof you right in the face. Were-tigers suck."

Pam hung up before he had the chance to answer back. They both immediately burst out laughing, throwing their heads back and screwing their eyes up in their amusement. Pam even held her sides, and had to brush away a pink tear.

"Did you... oh!" Pam couldn't get all her words out, and she started laughing again. Eric cracked up again too, and shook his head at her.

"Goats cheese?"

"Aah. He's such an idiot. He was getting so angry, especially when I mentioned his little hairy balls."

"That was fucking brilliant, Pam. I think we have found a new pastime."

"Thank God. Bill was becoming so passe."

"Oh, I think we can still make time to ridicule and/or harass Bill. For now, though, I think it is crucial that we focus our efforts on the ridiculous bald Were-tiger."

"Very good." Pam stood and exited the room, still chuckling to herself. "I'll get onto Ikea. I need to order you a new Alve desk, since you damaged this one the other night."

"Antique stain, Pam. Not the black one," Eric called after her.

"Yes," she called back.

He looked at his desk. "Pam," he waited for a couple of seconds before repeating himself, slightly louder. "Pam!"

She poked her head around the door.

"What?"

"Get me a new Husvik lamp as well, will you?" He grabbed his desk lamp and tried to angle it, but it just flopped back to it's original position. "This one has seen better days."

"Anything else?"

"No. That is all."

She rolled her eyes and closed the door.

Eric sat back in his chair. Fucking Quinn. The thought of him touching Sookie, laughing with her, kissing her, made him boil with rage. Who the fuck did he think he was, waltzing into his area, taking what was rightfully his? Being possessive was usual for vampires, but even for Eric this was an extreme reaction. He was incensed.

Not only did Quinn have the gall to ask Sookie, his lover, out, but he also comes to poach her services for the Queen at the upcoming summit. Oh, he was furious at Quinn, for sure, but the person he was most enraged at right now was Sookie. She knew very well how he would react to this. And she had rejected and undermined him in front of the tiger. Was she doing it on purpose? To anger him? To humiliate him?

He could not believe how outraged he was by her actions. He knew he should not care so much about the dating habits of the area telepath, but he could not deny his chagrin. He also felt an unusual ache inside which he could not put his finger on, and put it down to the fact that he was hungry, and overworked.

He closed his eyes and tried calming himself, thinking about the fluffy kittens. It didn't work. They just kept tumbling out of the basket and he couldn't control them. A tiger-striped one fell out and peed on his rug, and he got even angrier than he was before.

Fucking cats.

A/N: Did I ever tell you how much I hated Quinn with his pansy-purples and his dry-humping exploits? Well, I do, and I couldn't wait to get round to the part of the series where I get to mock him. Or rather, Pam does : )

As always, you guys totally rock my socks with the reviews. Thanks so much for the feedback, it really means a lot.