Within seconds of firing up the engine of the corvette, Eric received a text from Amelia saying the Bud Dearborn was parked behind the big rhododendron bush off of Hummingbird road with his radar on. Dawson has a tendency to drive with a lead foot, so they were pulled over, Bud only happy to write a ticket for the newly 'out' Werewolf and witch couple. She explained in her next text, which Eric read aloud, that Bud suddenly seemed "stupidly unaware of what he was doing and walked back to his car." Amelia's magical ability was growing stronger by the day, but every once in a while, she did enjoy the 'little things' like changing someone's mind mid-ticket. This wasn't the first time she'd changed Bud's mind, and he never seemed sure of how to act around her after the first couple speeding incidents. While Eric dazzles brilliantly, I'm not sure he could dazzle his way out of a speeding ticket, and I asked him to go slow (which of course, was 80 mph all the way). I still had a million questions for him that had…uh…slipped my mind last night.
"You're nervous." He stated, turning down the ACDC to hear my reply. Was I that easy to read?
"A little. I just don't think people are going to feel the same about me now." He turned as if to ask, like who? "You know, like Sam. He was always weird around anyone who…you've seen it. Anyone who shows any interests in me puts him on alert. And now that we're, you, know, us…it's going to be weird. And Amelia. She's fine with it but I don't want her to be that fine with it. I could seriously hurt her! And are things going to awkward with Pam, and do I have to hang out in Fangtasia now, or…" I stopped when Eric's hand found mine after shifting into sixth.
"The people who have been in your life will stay in your life as long as you want them to. If you want them gone, all you have to do is tell me." I suppressed a shudder at that. Bill Compton had killed my funny uncle after I told him what had happened when I was younger. I can't imagine anyone else being taken out like that. "And you'll figure out what you're comfortable with soon enough. And if you need people to stand farther away from you than normal, that's fine too. And if you want to leave early, just let me know and we'll go." My god, this man was perfect. "And I've spoken to Pam and Chow, and all of the others at Fangtasia, and they won't be a problem. You're free to come and go as you please." I relaxed at that and sunk into the seat.
"And what about…"
"Us." He finished my question. "I was wondering when this was coming. May I start?" I nodded and he continued, never letting go of my hand. "I was thinking that I'd like to be with you. Forever, if that's not too much to ask." My goodness, if I could still blush I'd be beet-red. "I've already sorted things out at the bar so that I won't be working every night of the week, and Pam and Chow seemed more than happy to pick up my old hours." I was truly amazed. I knew he was good, but working less? This Viking was all about his bar. He'd really do that for me? Why couldn't I ever get this lucky before I died?
"And what about, well, I guess living together?" It seemed like a strange way to describe what was going on. Nesting together? Dwelling together? Sleeping like the Dead together? "I'm more than happy for you to stay, if you'd like. Or you can keep living where you are. Doesn't matter to me." Please say you'll stay at my place, please say you'll stay at my place.
"Then I will. I'll keep the place in Shreveport and have a place for you dropped off here in the event that we can't make it back to your house before dawn or we need a different place to sleep for the day." That was only fair, and probably really smart. We had a few rednecks burn down a house with a vampire nest about a year ago, and it could certainly happen again. Eric did have quite a few people, both living and undead that would like to see him disappear, and by association, I did too now. I had one more question, but I wasn't ready to ask it. Maybe with time I'd feel comfortable enough to bring it up, but today didn't have to be the day. We had all the time in the world.
If you've never seen a vampire just sort of shut off and stare blankly ahead, it's a strange thing to see. It's an even stranger thing to experience firsthand, but my body felt the need to shut down to process everything from my brief conversation with Eric. The true peace of mind that comes with it is just wonderful, and I snapped out of it as we pulled off the street and into the gravel driveway at Fangtasia. I instantly and habitually reached down to grab my lipstick out of my purse, and then realized I hadn't brought it. I guess I had been so distracted by not killing my houseguests I'd clean forgotten my bag. Eric, however, pulled exactly what I was looking for out from the seat behind me, and handed it to me. "Uh, thanks." I mumbled and dug through it looking for my reddest lipstick. I loved having someone finally know me well, but this well…it's going to take some getting used to. I flipped down the mirror, and even though I knew better, I was still halfway surprised to see my own reflection. I guess some vampire myths are too deeply imbedded to grow out of after just a couple days. I traced the curves of my lips with a color Eric had once picked out for a ball, 'Arrest-me-red'. Bless him, he wasn't one for subtlety. His utter lack of subtlety was only made more obvious by his hand placed on my thigh and traveling north while I tried to blot my lipstick. "I'd rather not go inside with you all covered in my lipstick, babe." I told him, fighting back fangs and hormones, and snapped the lid on the tube. If that game went any further, we'd never make it inside. If I could still blush…oh my.
Our intimate moment was disrupted as Calvin Norris' truck pulled up into the parking lot and parked beside us. Eric's hand vanished from my thigh and darted for his door handle, and he had dashed around to let me out of the car before Calvin had even had a chance to turn off the truck. Luckily, Calvin didn't seem to notice how close he had been to watching vamptastic sex in a corvette. "Well hi there, Miss Stackhouse! You're looking nice tonight!" He said, as Eric opened my door and offered his hand so I could climb out without showing Calvin the panties I wore for Eric.
Calvin had come alone, and I was more than happy to see that. He was the only person in Hotshot I could even pretend to get along with since my brother's estranged ex-wife cheated on his while she was pregnant with his child. The only thing lower than the whole situation was Jason making me break two of Calvin's fingers in the ceremonial punishment of Crystal. Calvin had of course healed since then, as shifters tend to heal much faster than normal people, and seemed to be over any hard feelings that might have come from my bashing his hand in with a cinderblock. "Well good evening Calvin! You look great! Looks like everything healed up just fine!" I tried to sound all cheery, but was still trying to be distant. Calvin, although harder to read than most, was making his feelings towards Eric very clear, which wasn't the smartest of things to do. Calvin held up his hand in an awkward wave to show off his miraculously healed fingers, and Eric rolled his eyes. He never was much good at small talk. Calvin sensed he was about as wanted as a zit on prom night, and told us he'd see us both inside.
I managed to take one high heeled step towards Fangtasia before I found myself pinned against the corvette by an undead Viking, his warm-to-me hand cupping my face, his lips an inch from mine. "You'll be fine," he promised, "I'm here for you if you need me." Remembering the liberal coat of red on my lips, he left a kiss on my forehead and then taking my hand, led me gracefully across the gravel parking lot and into the front door. I tried not to think about anything. I could go for another one of those blank moments right about now…
One of the first things that you notice when you wake up vampire is that every moment is a sensory overload. Smells are a thousand times stronger, colors more vivid and my hearing could put a cat's to shame, adding in the usual telepathy and it's almost too much. Almost. Walking in on a room of my friends, both living and not-so-much, was overwhelming to say the least, but it felt great. The normally dreary bar with black furniture and blood-red walls and dozens of leather-clad vampires and people had been filled with nearly everyone I cared about. It was refreshing to see people that were dressed in colors other than red and black, and the metal music had been turned off and replaced with a top 40 playlist. It's much easier to ease into a situation with Fergie than it is with Marylyn Manson. Someone had bought a foil "Welcome Back!" sign and added on to it with construction paper, "From the Dead!" Yeah, I guess that's not something you'd find at the usual party supply store. The tables were lined with goodies like chips and cookies for the living, and people had apparently started quite a while ago…I guess I had taken my sweet time to get here.
"Sookie! I love that dress on you!" Tara broke through the crowd, dragging J.B. behind her like a small dog being pulled by a fast runner. She planted a kiss on each cheek like she had done since her trip to Paris three years ago, and it took everything I had to not bite into her neck. She had no idea how tempting her neck, only inches away from my mouth had been.
"Well thanks Tara! I always love coming downstairs and finding half your store on my kitchen table!" I laughed, it felt good. It had been a while.
She was beaming. She loved selling those clothes nearly as much as I liked getting them. "Great!" She practically yelled over the music, but I could have heard her if she'd whispered. By then Eric's hand had left my own and he'd gone to speak to Pam behind the bar, who was dutifully warming up True Bloods in the microwave as Chow handled the human drinks. "So you're with Eric, like, full time now?"
"It looks like that! I mean, I could hardly go date a normal guy after everything I've been through with him, you know?" Tara didn't have time to answer before Sam jumped in from the side and gave me a big bear hug and ruffled up my hair.
"Not bad for dying and spending three days in the cemetery." He was taking this way better than I thought he would. He must have come to terms with it because it was the only way to keep me around.
"Well thanks Sam, and I never got to thank you for helping me out the other night." His arm lingered on my shoulder, he was thinking he only wished I were still warm. This was weird. "You're just going to have to get used to it. There's not a lot I can do about it." I smiled, answering his thoughts.
"No matter what you look or feel like, it's good to have you back." A pat on the shoulder, and then he disappeared back into the clump of friends I hadn't talked to yet. Maybe he wasn't handling it that well after all.
With Eric still standing behind the counter, but never taking his eyes off me, I waded into the clump of friends and favorite customers from Merlotte's. Hoyt Fortenberry jumped in with a hug bigger than Sam's and quickly apologized for Jason not being able to make it. I figured he wouldn't. Pam scared the bajesus out of Jason, and I wasn't ready to see him after the Hotshot incident anymore than I was to see any of the other Were-panthers. Well, with Calvin being the exception. After Hoyt had stepped to the side and resumed flirting with a vampire he thought he could handle (and boy was he wrong!) then Haleigh Bellefleur stepped up. "You look great! I might be looking to trade in Andy for one of your vampire, boys, Sookie!"
"Oh come on, Haleigh! You've only been married a few weeks! How was your honeymoon?" This started a long series of adjectives like "wonderful" and "warm" and "sunny" and "wonderful" again, and, nodding with the occasional "oooh, ahhh" I scanned the room to see who was and wasn't there. The normal Fangtasia workers were bustling in the background, picking up plates and empty cups and bottles, and some of the usual Merlotte's customers were nursing drinks at the bar, occasionally stealing a glance at Pam or Chow. Chow did his usual half-wave and head nod simultaneously with a toothy smile and a wink, and Pam gave an approving nod and motioned that she needed to speak with me. I waved back to Chow and gave Pam the just-a-minute-sign and turned my back to find Alcide Herveaux standing bashfully behind me, looking at his foot that was making rough figure-8 patterns on the floor.
"Uh, I just thought I'd come and…you know, I live just down the street and…Maria Star would have…"
"Hi Alcide." Nothing like a fresh start to a severed end. "It's been a while. How are you?" He looked up immediately, surprised at the direction I'd taken with his stammering. "How's business?"
"Things are fine. Business is okay. You look good, Sookie."
That was nice to hear from him, even if I did think he was an asshole. "Thanks, Alcide. How's being packmaster treatin' yah?"
"Fine. Just fine. For once things are pretty quiet, so that's been good." He wasn't sure what else to say, so he just pointed to something behind me to put my attention elsewhere. He went back to talking to Dawson, and Amelia at his side gave me a wink and blew a kiss, and then motioned for me to keep going. I turned around again and nearly plowed straight into Octavia, who looked more out of place than a Nascar fan at a fashion show. I hadn't seen her since the night she helped me get ready, and I was glad she hadn't vanished off the face of the earth. She just put her hands over mine and squeezed, nodding and with a reassuring smile.
"I'm glad for you. Things are going to go very well from here." She told me. "Very well indeed." And coming from a powerful witch, that's something you've got to take to heart.
The next hour or so went pretty much the same, chatting with Sam again, Amelia again after Dawson 'started talking motorcycles' as she called it, and chatting briefly with some of the usual Merlotte's customers that were more curious about the vampire bar than doing any welcoming back from the dead party festivities. The more nervous guests, like most of Merlotte's customers and Calvin, had shuffled off by midnight, and by 12:30, Chow had turned up the music and to the audible pleasure of the women still hanging around, began dancing on the bar, rippling his tattooed muscles and flinging his shirt off, throwing it onto the new Mrs. Bellefleur, who turned out to still be quite the blushing bride. J.B. then helped Tara up onto the bar, and Chow then had a dance partner. Tara had been quite the dancer at all of the high school dances and still took every opportunity to strut her stuff. This homecoming queen had even done the electric slide in a crown and had somehow convinced me to replicate that dance in a vampire bar in Dallas with her. Tara and Chow danced for a minute before one of Haleigh's friends, a girl I knew briefly from the wedding jumped on the other side of Chow to join them and maybe become a blood donor for the night. Amelia had decided to get her groove on as well, but remained on the floor. I was seconds away from finally reaching Pam for the chat I promised nearly 2 hours ago, but Amelia grabbed my arm and decided that I was going to dance with her since Dawson clearly wasn't. She'd had more than a couple drinks at this time, and she literally squealed with delight when Shakira's "Hips Don't Lie" came over the sound system, and she suddenly turned into a clueless salsa dancer, mostly just shaking her butt in circles and pointing drunkenly at me. I caught Dawson's attention and motioned to cut her off the mojitos for a while. He laughed and nodded in promise. A few more socially hazardous dances with my drunken roommate, and she announced needlessly loud in a volume that could be heard three states over, "I need to pee!" and wandered off to the find the bathroom. I noticed Pam followed her in there a minute later…maybe that fling wasn't as over as I thought it had been. I headed back over to the bar where Eric was wiping up after the drinks that had unintentionally been kicked over by Chow and his backup dancers, who had moved down to the floor after wanting to join Amelia in her Shakira moment. I sat down at the bar, slowly, knowing full well Eric hadn't taken his eyes off me in nearly an hour.
"Hi bartender." I smiled. He leaned over the bar and rested his face in his hand, mimicking my own position.
"What can I get for you, Miss, Stackhouse, is it?" He joked back. The bar must have done well tonight to put him in such a good mood.
"A blood and a kiss please. And perhaps the next dance…" The kiss request was answered first, with a gentle peck on the lips that was perfectly appropriate for public. Not that anyone still sticking around would mind. He then uncorked another bottle of Burgundy Royale and microwaved it for a few seconds before pouring a generous helping into a wine glass. He placed it in front of me with another kiss.
"That one's on the house." He smiled, and went for a third.
"Honestly, you two, that is just nauseating. If I could still throw up I might seriously be doing it already." Ah yes, Pam was back. She parked herself in the empty seat next to me and threw her arm lazily over my shoulder. "Sookie, it's good to have you back. And might I say, dead looks good on you?"
"You always knew how to flatter a girl, Pam." We shared a good laugh at that, and Eric, shaking his head went back to wiping down the bar. "But seriously, what's with Amelia? I saw you follow her!"
Pam faked embarrassed badly. "Whatever can you be talking about?" Pure sarcasm with a southern drawl. "Well, it's been a while since I batted for that side, and I must say, I rather enjoyed having her around. Shame about the werewolf." She glanced back at the two of them, now huddled together in a booth. Amelia's eyes briefly left Dawson's and Pam accepted that as her cue to join them, doing her well rehearsed catwalk strut over to the booth. Eric and I were alone again. He threw the bar rag to the side and poured himself a blood from the same Burgundy Royale bottle, and we clinked glasses.
"To us." I said, and brought my glass closer to me.
"To that dress." Eric smiled, taking another eyeful or two. I was able to have this drink more slowly since I wasn't terribly thirsty. He was right, synthetic blood, even at 98.6 degrees, was no match for that B positive I'd had last night. Sometime in the past couple minutes, Eric had switched the radio station to something slower, and Aerosmith's "Don't Want to Miss a Thing" was playing, and J.B. and Tara were dancing on the floor, still staring into each other's eyes like the newlyweds they are. If they had any idea that nearly every eye still left in the bar was watching them, they certainly didn't show it.
The song finished and I turned to Eric, slightly jealous of what Tara and J.B. had and asked him "Do you think we'll ever be like that?" I didn't know what I was expecting for an answer, but I was perfectly pleased to find him leading me to the floor as Elton John started singing about his blue jean baby.
"What else is it that you're wanting, lover?" he asked, his arm finding its way to my waist. Pam answered his question during a turn by pointing to her ring finger and winking at Eric. I caught her reflection in the mirror behind the bar.
"That's not it." I assured him. If Eric were still breathing, a comically large exhale would have gone here. "At least not right now." Elton was laying into his piano, getting ready for the chorus. "I don't know. Everything, the past couple nights, tonight, it's wonderful. It's all a girl could ask for. It's just weird to think that the life I really envisioned for myself just isn't going to ever happen. You know, with kids and soccer games and a white picket fence."
He seemed puzzled. "Well," he started, trying to make light of the situation. "I could always steal a child for you, but with all those Amber alerts nowadays it's getting quite a bit trickier." I laughed, rather than having to think about it too deeply. "And I could have a fence put up tomorrow. But since we haven't stolen a child I don't see what we're fencing in." I was laughing again. "And I'm not really all that into little kid soccer games. You know, the whole daylight thing." He had a point there. I had no children and soccer games and picket fences in my future, but it was a lot better than the alternative.
"You know, Mr. Northman? I believe you're right." He then held his tiny dancer closer and kissed me so slowly and perfectly, I never wanted him to stop.
I knew it was coming, but I still laughed when the ubiquitous "oooooooh!" came over the bar, with an applause from the strange love triangle in the corner booth. Pam even yelled with cupped hands, "Get a room!"
Flinging his blonde hair to the side and chuckling, Eric suppressed a laugh and, throwing me over his shoulder like I was a bag of sand, announced, "That's not a bad idea...What do you think, Sookie?"
A little embarrassed, I bit my bottom lip (which when you're being held upside down, turns out it is still your bottom lip) and agreed, "You know…that isn't a bad idea at all." About time! I heard Amelia think at me, and wiggled to see her giving me a thumbs up for what might have been the hundredth time since I'd arrived. "Ladies and gents, thanks for coming, drive safe, and make sure to come back and see us!" My friends all waved goodbye after his brief speech and we were out the door, in the corvette and home by 3:15, with a few good hours of night still ahead of us. Hmmm…however would we fill them?