Fangtasia Stories: Orgasms and Kitchenware

Set between Dead in the Family and Dead Reckoning

Eric found that being makerless was quite liberating. He thought that the feeling might be compared to removing some tight, restrictive bikini briefs at the end of a long, long, stressful evening. Eric had never compared his maker to some ill-fitting, discarded underpants before, probably out of respect and deference to Appius. But now that he was gone forever, he didn't care.

Unfortunately for Eric, even in death, Appius was still squeezing his balls. But he was intent on finding a way to remove those briefs and rid himself of them for good. And burn them. And then bury them.

A few days after his maker's final death, he sent word to Appius' nest, informing them of an 'incident'.

"It is with deep sadness and regret that I must send you news of my maker's tragic and untimely demise. While visiting me in my sheriffdom here in Shreveport, Appius Livius Ocella and my sweet, young brother, Alexei Romanov, developed a great interest in horticulture, and in particular, tree-felling. The humble, honest work seemed to bring such joy to Alexei, and together he and Appius made quite a team. With every tree felled my brother seemed to improve his health. Indeed, the needless and haphazard massacring of innocents ceased almost altogether.

Unfortunately, the happiness was soon turned to despair, as I received news that a dreadful, fatal accident had taken place. One beautiful, moonlit evening, the pair were tending to a great Southern Red Oak when the unthinkable happened. Alexei was apparently up in the trees, felling some of the larger branches. He called down to Appius, who was working below, to warn him of the incoming wood. Sadly, that very same day Iron Maiden had released a new album of rarities and B sides, which Appius had excitedly downloaded onto his I-Pod upon rising that evening. Needless to say, he had his headphones in and did not hear his child calling down to him. The wood went straight through my great maker, and with that, he was no more.

In his guilt and despair, young Alexei took the chainsaw to himself.

In retrospect, arboriculture might not have been the most practical of pastimes for them to take such an active interest in. I am able take some comfort in the knowledge that Appius met his final death while enjoying the incredible voice of one of his favorite rock legends; the great Bruce Dickinson.

Yours,

Eric Northman."

He and Pam had lots of fun thinking up elaborate death scenarios, before they'd finally settled on the tree-felling idea. Eric knew that no one would care that much about the loss anyway, since for a long time everyone had been annoyed and slightly embarrassed by Appius. He couldn't imagine Alexei was incredibly popular, either.

So now he was maker-less, and there was only one loose end left to tie up in terms of Appius' legacy. As he sat in his favorite booth, googling 'how to get out of vampire marriage contracts', he received a text.

'Hey. Are you at work? I could use some company. S xxx'.

Eric smiled. Sookie always made sure her text messages were grammatically correct and perfectly spelled. No 'thx' or 'c u l8r'. Eric preferred to use a shortened text vocab, but not in a way that made him seem like a 13 year old girl.

He reread the message. 'Company' sounded promising, and Eric decided it was obviously a euphemism for sex. Sookie varied the number of kisses at the end of her messages; one was usual, two was suggestive, three was definitely a come on. Yes, he quickly deduced from the few words, she was horny as hell and she definitely wanted him to screw her brains out.

'Drive 2 bar, wont b long here. I will give u all the company u need. I will provide company all ovr the house. E'.

Eric smirked and resumed his research.

Pam sidled up to his booth and slid in opposite.

"What is so amusing to you?" she asked.

"Your face."

She completely ignored his comment and leaned in closer.

"Did you find out about the marriage contract? Does Appius' final death make it void?"

Eric groaned. Pam hadn't stopped bugging him about this since he told her.

"I am working on it."

"When are you going to tell Sookie?"

"There's no need for me to involve her and worry her unnecessarily," he snapped. "She doesn't need to know. I told you I will sort it out. Stop going on at me."

Pam crossed her arms and shook her head at him.

"I think you are wrong. She still has a right to know about all this. You can be so high-handed."

"What?" He spread his palms out in front of him and looked at them. "What is it about these wildly high hands I'm supposed to have?"

In his annoyance, he raised his arms above his head and waved them. The new bartender, Jock, confused the gesture for an order, and began warming some blood.

"Look how amazingly high my hands are," he said sarcastically. "Let's all go on and on about how high-handed Eric is, even though he always gets shit done and has survived a millennia even though he has such craaaaaazily high hands." He waved them again, jazz-hand style.

"You are being absurd. It means that you surge ahead making decisions on things that affect other people without cons-"

"Yes, Pam," Eric interrupted. "I know exactly what it means, thank you. Sookie has already explained this to me." He lowered his arms. "High-handed," he mumbled to himself quietly. "Stupid... English... words... terms... idiot... hands."

"Abby says that marriages should be a partnership where honesty is paramount."

"Oh God, not Abby. She spouts all sorts of other bullshit, as well."

"You do not take marriage seriously enough. According to Abby, marriage-"

"Wait." He held up a finger. "Who said I needed marital advice? Abby can go fuck herself, how about that?"

Pam gasped and her eyes widened in shock.

"How could you say such a thing about my dear, sweet Abby?"

"I really don't give a demon's toxic knob about any advice she has to offer. Why are you so attached to her and that stupid advice column, anyway? You fixate on the strangest things."

"She is very wise," Pam said. "You could learn a great deal from that woman." Eric rolled his eyes and shook his head at her. "Oh yes, go on, you can mock me if you want. I suppose you think you're too perfect to require any relationship advice, that you already know everything there is to know. I suppose you give Sookie absolutely everything she needs."

"Of course I give her everything she needs," Eric said confidently. "I gave her a marathon oral sex session and a blender, just the night before last. I make sure she wants for nothing."

Pam smiled at him mockingly.

"A-ha. You are of course assuming that all Sookie requires to be content in her relationship with you is orgasms and kitchenware."

Eric frowned.

"Not just kitchenware. That would be sexist."

"Hm-mm."

One of the human waitresses delivered the fresh blood Jock had prepared, and Eric took a sip.

"I provide her with other things she needs. I give her very sexy underwear."

Pam sighed and shook her head.

"Precisely."

"The expensive, tasteful stuff," Eric said defensively. "Not those PVC crotch-less panties you give to your lovers. I gave her a door once, that's not sexist. Gravel driveways, luggage, these are all very practical and useful gifts."

"Honestly. Hundreds of years of experience and you are still clueless sometimes. Have you ever considered the possibility that she might have other needs?"

Eric stared at the ceiling in deep thought. Pam waited. And waited some more. While she was waiting she folded a napkin into the shape of a perfectly formed crane. Its wings moved when she pulled at its tail feathers, and while Eric was still thinking, she waved it in front of his face and made a crowing noise.

"Caaw. Caaaaw."

She was unsatisfied with that sound, thinking that cranes probably didn't make that particular noise. She tried more of a coo, but that didn't seem right either. She experimented with more bird noises. In the end, she was making more of a bizarre whooping noise.

Eric completely ignored her. Jock looked over from behind the bar with some concern.

"You're absolutely right," Eric said finally. "There is something else that Sookie needs, which I have indeed neglected."

Pam sat up proudly.

"Oh good. Finally."

"She could definitely do with a modern home security system. She needs exterior surveillance cameras and indoor motion detectors. I should get on to that."

"No, I was-"

"I can't believe I never even thought of it before. Perhaps it could be hooked up so that I had video monitors here at the bar. She also needs to keep more stakes, lemon juice and weaponry on hand."

Pam groaned and screwed up the napkin crane. She held her head and rubbed at her forehead.

"Protection is a need, Pam," Eric said, irritated. "Especially where she is concerned. You wouldn't believe the shit that wanders about in those fucking woods near her house. She has more enemies than friends and is kidnapped or targeted for assassination on an almost weekly basis. Things are only getting worse. Do you not think that is important?"

"She should not live there."

"Of course not," Eric groaned. "But you know how she loves it. She likes the memories, and the family history. She says it smells like Gran's pie."

"She likes old things," Pam said, smiling. "She likes you. You're old."

Eric pouted and took another sip of his blood.

"I'm not that old," he mumbled. "Well, I am, but I'm still modern. There's only a 964 year age gap between me and Sookie. That's nothing, for some couples."

"There's no need to get defensive about it. We're her family now. She should be here with us, not living in some old shack with a couple of very dubious fairy characters. You need to move forward, and show some commitment. Although, now with all this contract nonsense..."

Eric closed his eyes and tried to contain his ever-increasing anger.

"I know what I'm doing, Pam."

"Well, I think you two need to talk more openly," she said. "You need to tell each other exactly what is going on and how you both feel about one another. If you had a formal meeting I could facilitate and be the arbitrator."

"Sookie and I don't need some sort of therapy session. We're absolutely fine. And you," he pointed a finger at her and flashed her an icy stare, "need to butt out."

She pulled a sour face and looked away, checking her nails.

"I was just trying to help," she grumbled.

Eric gave her another glare and went back to his phone. Pam finished inspecting her perfect nails and looked around, surveying the bar.

"Shall we play a game or something?"

"No."

"Come on."

"No. Do some work."

She sighed and looked around the bar some more, checking out the customers. Where had all the cute fang bangers gone? It seemed like ever since Victor opened his new club, they were getting the dregs. She looked back at her maker.

"Eric." She got no response. "Eric. Eric. Caaaw. Eric."

"What?" Eric said through gritted teeth.

"Can I have the night off tomorrow?"

"Why?"

"It's been so quiet here this week. I want to catch up on some things."

"No."

"Why are you being so unreasonable and grouchy?"

"I'm not."

"You are. You're all moody. You snapped at me earlier when I commented on the tightness of your jeans. What's wrong with you?"

Eric groaned and set his phone aside.

"You. You're so demanding and you won't shut up. I just want to be alone. But you are constantly poking and jabbing at me, going on and on about Abby and relationship advice and how I need to do this and that. You don't understand the pressures I'm under! Maybe sometimes you could consider my position for a change!"

Pam was speechless at his outburst, and didn't know how to respond. She became even more concerned when she saw that his eyes were a little bit bloody.

She reached forward with her hand. "Are you-"

"Don't. I'm... I'm just tired. I think I've got something in my eye."

He quickly got up and made his way to the office, and Pam sat there, mouth agape. What the fuck was all that about?

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

Back in his office, Eric sat down behind his desk and tried to calm himself. He couldn't believe he'd almost cried just because Pam had offered him marital advice and called him old.

He'd felt cranky and emotional all evening. While driving to Fangtasia, he'd become unnecessarily angry when he'd been stuck behind a slow driving old lady, and made a rude hand gesture at her when he was finally able to overtake her. He regretted such immature behavior. He didn't usually feel so grouchy for no particular reason, and figured it must be connected to Sookie doing her shift at Merlotte's. She was often tense during her work hours, since she had to work harder at keeping her shields up at the bar, and had to put up with all sorts of rude customers.

Yes, that had to be the reason for the unusual fluctuating emotions, he thought. That, and the recent stress. He set about distracting himself with some paperwork, and soon felt back to his regular self. He thought about Sookie, and the prospect of getting her naked, and this made him feel much better.

Not long after, there was a knock at the door. Eric knew exactly who it was, and called for his lover to come in.

"Hey," she said, closing the door behind herself.

"Well hello," Eric said seductively, recalling her earlier text message and her blatant request for a hot, rampant pounding. He quickly assessed her clothing; a simple t-shirt and shorts. Easily removed and disposed of. He considered the prospect of swiftly taking her up against the wall here in the office before driving her home for a more serious, prolonged humping.

She gave him a quick peck on the cheek before she went and flopped out on the sofa. Eric frowned.

"You're tired?" he asked tentatively.

"Ugh, yeah. I ache. Work was a nightmare. Some idiots got into a fight over a pool game and they started throwing pitchers of beer at each other. Not only did I slip and fall on my butt when I went over to collect the empties, but I also had to mop it all up. And then they never even tipped! The nerve!"

"That's... unfortunate."

"Damn straight. I bet I'll have a huge bruise in the morning, size of my fist."

"Should I check it?" Eric waggled his eyebrows suggestively. "I can make it all better."

"It's alright. The biggest pain in my ass right now is Claude. You know, he goes through milk like I never knew it was possible. I swear he drinks a couple of gallons every day. Do you think it's a fairy thing? Do fairies really like milk? He never thinks to buy more, then he grumbles when there's none left. And he eats eggs like they're going out of fashion. He's so inconsiderate. I shouted at him this morning when he left his breakfast plate out, and now I feel bad, because it was actually Dermot's turn to wash up."

Sometimes their little chit chats were decidedly one-sided. Eric was usually amused by her ranting and tales of parish roadwork and whatnot, and he in turn entertained her with stories from the bar and classic Pam moments. He enjoyed these times when they shared the banalities and absurdities of their lives with one another, especially post-coitally. But as she carried on talking, moving on to the very important subject of Sam's haphazard hair regrowth, he found himself becoming more and more irked. Her voice actually began to grate on him.

"...really wanted to get some gel or something and tidy it up."

"Sookie, didn't you want to-"

"My feet hurt." She kicked her sneakers off and wiggled her toes, and gave him her best doe eyes. Eric reluctantly made his way over to the sofa, sat down and took her feet onto his lap. He began rubbing.

"Ooh," Sookie sighed, closing her eyes. "That feels good."

"Did you come all this way for a foot rub?"

"No," Sookie snapped, her eyes open again. "I came to see you."

"Alright," Eric shrugged. "Whatever."

"Can't I just come and spend some time with you? Do I have to want something?"

"No, I just thought-"

"You don't have to do that," she grumbled, pulling her feet out of his grasp. "If you're not interested in my day then that's fine, I can just go home."

He looked at her pouty face and wondered if he'd completely misread her message. No, she definitely requested mind-blowing sex. For some totally random reason he'd managed to make her all grouchy, just by rubbing her feet. Maybe she was feeding off his grouchiness? He took her feet back in his big hands and began massaging again.

"I am exceedingly interested in Sam Merlotte's unruly tufts," he mumbled sarcastically. "Tell me, how much milk did Claude consume today?"

"Maybe four quarts," Sookie said, relaxing again. "Probably more. I should just buy a cow, so he can get it straight from the source."

Eric imagined the fairy kneeling beneath the animal, squeezing jets of the creamy liquid directly into his open mouth. He pulled a disgusted face, and Sookie laughed.

"Ew, Eric. I don't mean him drinking direct from the cow. Were you thinking about him, like, putting it in his mouth?"

"Don't. I might regurgitate some blood."

Sookie smiled and closed her eyes again. Eric took care to tend to every inch of Sookie's tired feet. Outwardly he was playing the role of the caring husband, but internally he was thinking, What am I doing? I'm supposed to be a vampire sheriff. She should be giving me foot rubs. She never gives me foot rubs. When has she ever considered the tiredness of my feet? Never. Just because I'm a vampire, she thinks I don't suffer such afflictions. I'd love a foot rub sometimes. Did she even ask about my day? No. And she calls Claude inconsiderate...

Eric accidentally made a disgruntledhuffy noise, and Sookie looked at him, her eyebrows drawn together in a frown.

"What was that?"

"What?"

"You went 'pfft'."

"Did I?" Nice of you to notice. Did you even notice I parted my hair slightly differently today, and I'm wearing new jeans? No. Shut up, Eric. What are you going on about? Why are you behaving like this?

"Eric, what's going on?"

"Hmm?"

"You're being all weird."

He tried to refocus and began working on her calves.

"No I'm not, I'm being normal."

Perhaps I just need to get laid, Eric thought. We'll have sex and then everything will be perfectly fine.

Sookie raised an eyebrow but then let it go, and settled back into enjoying her foot massage. After a while, Eric noticed she was looking over at his desk. Hmm, more table sex? He perked up.

"Did you want to...?" He nodded towards the desk.

"Yeah, I do."

"Oh, excellent," he said, going to stand up.

"Not now, I'll tidy it later."

"I'm sorry, what?"

"It's an absolute mess, but it can wait until later. I guess now Bobby's gone there's nobody around to do all your filing, huh? Is Pam too busy? I don't mind helping. Is your system alphabetized?"

Eric nodded slowly.

"Good."

Sookie settled back again and Eric began to apply more pressure. He stopped after a while, just in case he went too far and accidentally molded her feet into the shape of flippers, and began to work on her hands. Sookie seemed to be enjoying her pampering, which only resulted in Eric becoming more resentful and irritated. He decided sex was the way forward in this situation, and would result in them both feeling much more like themselves. He took the opportunity to send some waves of lust through their bond.

"Are you feeling less achy now, my lover?" Eric said, in his best seductive voice.

"Yeah. You'd make a really good masseuse. I can just see you working in a beauty salon. Do you know how to do facials?"

Oh yes, he thought. I know all about facials.

"Do you have any other aches I can take care of?"

He took her wrist and brought it to his mouth, kissing softly. He kissed at her palm, then stared into her eyes while bringing each of her fingers in turn to his mouth, licking and nibbling at the tips, before sucking on them.

"Mm. You taste like peaches."

She looked away and stared at his desk again, scowling disapprovingly at the mess.

"I ate some peaches earlier."

"I'd like to bite into your peaches."

"Well, I ate them all, so..."

"Sookie."

"... you're out of luck. You don't eat them anyway..."

"Sookie."

"Hmm?"

"Stop mentally tidying my desk. Why are you resisting my advances?"

"I thought we were just chatting about peaches."

Eric stared at her while shaking his head very slightly, his brow furrowed.

"I am pushing some major lust waves at you and you are not reacting."

"Yeah, will you stop with all that? The bond crap freaks me out sometimes."

Eric became more alarmed.

"You like the lusty probing."

Sookie closed her eyes and groaned.

"Not all the time and not when I'm all cranky and sleepy and I just want to crawl into my best old flannel nightgown and curl up and pass out."

"I've been meaning to mention those nightgowns..."

Sookie held a hand up.

"Don't even go there. Eric, there are times when a girl is more than happy to wear some uncomfortable tiny lace cheese-wire thong and a bra that gives you cleavage you could park a bike in." She paused to shake her head at Eric's fangy grin. "And there are times when a girl just needs the soothing comfort of floor length flannel. Tonight is one of those nights, so put those fangs back in, buddy. You can suck my fingers and bite my peaches all you like, but it ain't happening."

"But why...?"

"Why what?"

"I thought you... but you're..."

"Look, Eric, I don't know why you thought I was up for some kind of big sex session with you tonight, because I'm not. I had an awful night at work, and I'm cranky and pre-menstrual. I just wanted to come over and spend some time with you. I've been pissed off and emotional all day. I just wanted a hug and for you to listen to me blow off some steam and make me laugh."

Everything suddenly fell into place for Eric.

"Oh no."

"What?"

"That's it. Of course. I flipped an old lady on the drive here, and then earlier I got all pissed at Pam and nearly cried. Just now, I was upset at how you didn't notice I'd done my hair a bit differently and how you never give me foot rubs."

Sookie stared at him.

"You flipped an old lady?"

"Oh God. You're right, the bond is freaky sometimes. I never bonded this deeply with anyone before, so I've never really experienced anything as extreme as this." He held his head. "I'm hormonal. You're pushing your PMS at me."

"I am not!"

"I have PMS," Eric whispered to himself.

"Will you shut up? You're just feeling it from me, is all. I'm not usually this bad with it."

"I have PMS," he repeated desperately, even more quietly. He pinched at the bridge of his nose. "A thousand year old vampire sheriff with PMS."

"Will you stop saying PMS? God! You're such a selfish idiot sometimes! I'm always feeling your pissed off angry vamp shit. 'Ooh, Sookie's going to work and getting pawed at by redneck drunks and she's my wife and she shouldn't be working there', and then you're all, 'ooh, that sheriff of area 12 is all up in my face and I want to kick his ass'. If it's not bubbling anger then it's horndog central! It's so effing annoying!"

Eric looked away.

"There isn't even an area 12," he muttered.

"Ugh." Sookie stood up and slipped her sneakers back on. "I'm going to hang out with Pam for a bit. You can tidy your own desk."

"I will."

"Well go on then."

"I'm going to."

"Fine."

She slammed the door behind her.

Suddenly alone in his office, Eric felt surprisingly guilty and vulnerable. He decided that he really needed a good fight or something, to reassert his kick-ass vampire masculinity. In fact, now would be a great time for a visit from Victor, so he could take some of his pre-menstrual rage out on him. Instead of opting for violence, he went back to his desk, messed it up even more just because it made him feel better, and got back to work.

At some point, Sookie came back into the office and curled up on the sofa, without a word. She was soon fast asleep.

After a while, Eric glanced over at her. Her eyelashes kept fluttering, and he could see her eyes moving beneath her lids. She was dreaming. The soft sound of her breaths and her tiny movements relaxed him, and for a little while he forgot about Victor Madden and vampire politics and all of his other troubles. He remembered how he used to watch her sleep when he was not himself, holed up with her in her house. He recalled how warm and content he felt lying next to her, when everything else was so distant and unnerving to him.

He never wanted to be parted from her then, and he still felt the same.

Eric's lips tightened into a hard line, and he silently cursed his maker for his stupid, high-handed attempts at match-making.

As if she'd felt his sudden anxiety in her sleep-state, Sookie frowned and let out a whimper. She shifted her position, curling up further into herself. He felt her need to be held, or maybe that was him. Either way, he stood, and went and knelt in front of the sofa. He ran his cheek over her bare arm. She was always so soft, and smelled so good. Rubbing up against her released the scent.

"We don't do wedges, Sir. Just fries," Sookie mumbled. Eric stopped with the rubbing and smiled at her. She wrinkled her nose like it was itching, and her eyelids flickered. "Pickles."

Eric laughed quietly.

"Some cups."

Eric snorted this time, and Sookie's opened her eyes. She saw him looming over her and frowned sleepily.

"Wha?"

"Cups?"

"Hmm?"

"You just said 'some cups'."

"No I didn't."

"You did. You said cups, and before that you said pickles. Were you dreaming about work?"

Sookie pouted and closed her eyes again, and curled up on her side.

"I don't know."

Eric brushed some hair out of her eyes.

"You should dream about me," he whispered. "Much more entertaining."

"I'm sorry you got PMS," Sookie mumbled. "I like your hair."

Eric smiled. He could feel her exhaustion. No wonder she dreamed about work. She was always there, working hard; serving pickles, retrieving cups. With a sigh, he rose to his feet. He switched everything off, picked up her purse, swinging the strap over his shoulder in a way that would undoubtedly be embarrassing were there anyone to witness the occurrence, and gathered her up in his arms. Sookie squirmed a little at first, but was simply too tired to do anything other than let him move her.

As he carried her out to the car, he understood there was indeed more to give Sookie than gifts, protection and orgasms. He also realized that their relationship was more of a partnership than he'd even given them credit for before.

He still wasn't telling her about the marriage contract, though. She'd flip her fucking hormonal lid.