Summary: In a world where Uncle Bartlett went too far, Sookie Stackhouse decides to embrace herself rather than bend to the townfolk's perception of normal. Years later, she saves a dense vampire from two drainers. Slowburn Sookie/Eric.
The gritty grey streets of Shreveport eventually bleed into the more familiar, earthy green of Bon Temps, and Sookie kept mumbling curses into Eric's shirt, feeling the air rushing past her. It was a warm night but Sookie could feel an understandable chill in the air.
Being kidnapped by a flying 6'4 Viking Vampire? So not on her wishlist.
Sookie purposefully kept her thoughts light and flippant, ignoring the dark whispers of what he could do to her, and how she didn't have a hope of stopping him. She refused to be the atypical screaming blonde victim.
"You are a foul-mouthed little human," Eric informed her, as though this should come as a complete surprise to her.
"Who isn't short compared to you?" Sookie pointed out smartly against his muscular chest.
Despite what most people she encounted tended to think, Sookie was not stupid. She was hot-headed and always, always defiant but she knew where the line was. She just refused care, to just keep going, to keep voicing every strange thought to pop into her head with very little editing.
It was going to get her killed one day, more than one person had told her. Tonight could be that night.
"You aren't afraid of me at all," Eric mused, deep voice rumbling through his chest. His form started to lower slowly to the ground. "An unwise decision, Miss Stackhouse."
"I figured that out around the time you kidnapped me," Sookie told him wryly. It was a white-lie; she had realized much sooner but turning into a church mouse went against her motto.
Eric's knees bumped into Sookie's upper thighs, making her twitch violently, panic ringing through her, and then a jolt went through them both as he landed. Sookie pushed off his chest, and landed with her feet on the floor.
Her heels sank into the grass as she stumbled away from him before catching herself, cocking her head to the side and studying him from a safer distance. Eric was gazing at her, an indescrible intent behind his eyes, blonde hair stark against the dark night...and the familiar back-drop of the Bon Temps cemetery.
Unwilling to take her eyes off him, Sookie slowly arched an eyebrow. "You know where I live. How worried should I be?"
Eric returned her arched brow, something almost amused in the gesture. Like a tiger slinking towards an unsuspecting animal in the long grass, he moved towards her. Goosebumps rose on Sookie's skin but she did not recoil.
"That depends." Eric lowered his head, staring down at her starkly with his intense blue eyes. "You're a telepath."
It was on the tip of Sookie's tongue to deny it, but after so long, she assumed he must have developed an impressive radar for bullshit. And he knew where she lived - he knew where her Gran was, and maybe her brother.
Sookie glanced down to the floor, half wondering if she would be the next Stackhouse to be buried in the grave yard, before meeting Eric's eyes with her usual defiant humor. "I would say pick a number but I'm incapable of reading vampires' minds, and I'm guessin' that joke would get my neck snapped, snicker-crack."
"Snicker-snap," Eric corrected her disturbingly.
Sookie stared at him blankly for a moment before closing her eyes, wishing she felt more horrified by that piece of information instead of simply tired. "I could have lived a happy life without ever knowing that - but thank you."
Eric chuckled darkly, a deep, masculine sound that Sookie was annoyed at herself for enjoying. "Don't be coy."
Sookie looked at him with clear eyes. His outline was blurred by the dark. He was handsome, beautiful, one of those unforgivable people who always looked hot as hell. Even in the dark surrounded by headstones. Satan in a fine sunday hat, as Lala and Tara would rightfully claim. What a wonderful disguise his body was.
Still, she thought he would've looked so much more in the sunlight. Less of a cruel, dark man. He might have even been those things once.
"If I am, I don't mean to be," she said finally.
When Eric looked at her, the forceful lust in his eyes was still present, seemingly urged on by her quirky quips, but it was muted by the air of sheer power rolling off him. It was dangerous and highly intimidating, like he could fly into a murderous frenzy at the slightest provocation.
"You claim to be incapable of reading vampire minds," he stated in his rough yet strangely smooth voice. "I hope you have proof, Miss Stackhouse. I'm not prepared to take the word of a human so easily."
Most Supes had a simply irritating way of looking down on humans, but it was nothing compared to the rivalry between other Supes. Best that Eric kept thinking of her as a telepathic human, and nothing else.
"If I'd been reading your mind, I would've seen the Superman maneuver coming," she pointed out curtly, suppressing mild horror and anger at his violation of her personal space. "And I'd hardly have bothered drawin' attention to myself by asking questions if I could pick up on your thoughts."
Eric made a sound deep in his throat, hands clasping behind his back. "That's hardly conclusive proof," he remarked grimly, light blue eyes burning into her face, meeting her eyes. His blue eyes widened, as though trying to draw her will into him, molding her mind like wet clay.
"You have a smart mouth. That will get you in trouble some day," his voice was softer but still low and deep, fanning the flames low in her stomach until the lust was sparking through her, increasing with every word. "Not all vampires will be as tolerant as I. You will learn caution, you will be more respectful when addressing me, and you are going to answer all of my questions truthfully."
"I have been," Sookie shot back, defensive irritation weaving into her voice. Eric's reaction was minimal, eyebrows raising slowly, eyes narrowing slightly, lips pursing light. Though her words were sassy, she was careful to keep her voice inoffensively calm. "If what I saw at Fangtasia tonight is what you see as respectful - "
"I know the difference between those fawning vermin and you, Miss Stackhouse," said Eric darkly, watching her with an expression that made her uncomfortable. It was curious, and certainly hungry for so many things, all belonging to her. "They are so easily glamoured, however, you seem oblivious to it."
Sookie stiffened, a flash of icy fear freezing her solid. Her mind stumbled before setting off in a frantic pace. Eric didn't seem particularly murderous, but she felt certain that his interest was no less deadly or intense than his rage. There was no hope of him passing her off as another dull human now.
Telepathy was one thing, but even the Weres were capable of being glamoured. It was unquestionably a Supe trait.
"That's the only difference you see?" Sookie said flippantly before the silence could continue, raising her eyebrows to show offense.
"I see many," remarked Eric, his eyes dropping to her figure, so tightly shown off. He circled her slowly, eyes eating away at her.
A shiver writhed up Sookie's spine. She should've been disgusted or terrified by his aggressive nature, but when she thought about him kicking that man away in Fangtasia without a single glance, and how he'd been looking at her all night...the difference was clear, and a slightly flattering in a weird where-has-my-self-respect-gone way.
"What are you?" he bit out, sounding almost irritated at having to ask.
"That's the million dollar question, baby." Sookie caught sight of his expression and carried on. "I've known about the supernatural world for a while, but I've never heard of anyone like me before."
"Surprisingly, neither have I," Eric said musingly, a slight frown touching his handsome face at his lack of knowledge. "You are quite the mystery, Miss Stackhouse."
"What are you going to do about that?" she asked, watching him warily.
"I have no plans to hurt you," Eric stated, sweeping his eyes over her, a lewd smirk touching the corners of his mouth.
"Well, that's massively reassuring."
"Though that could change," Eric continued in a soft, dangerous voice. "In the future, I may call upon your services."
Pressing her lips together on a nervous joke, Sookie looked him straight in the eye. "What are you paying me?" Eric's eyebrow arched, and Sookie sighed, posture slumping sardonically. "Would you really trust me to tell the truth if there wasn't something in it for me? I am a human, after all."
Proving he wasn't a total humorless dick - which made Sookie pretty sure she could deal with his less awesome personality traits, like being really fucking scary, because a sense of humor was so rare - Eric acknowledged her light play on his words with a faintly amused smirk.
"We have established that you are anything but human in this cemetery, Miss Stackhouse, and anything but ordinary long before that."
Sookie narrowed her big, brown eyes at him suspiciously, a slight smirk toying at her lips. "Are you hittin' on me?"
Eric's smirk was far more impressive, containing all of the lewd implications in the world without making Sookie feel like a dumb blonde, hick waitress with issues like whoa.
"I will send a contract over in the morning. If it is not to your liking, contact me at Fangtasia, and we can re-work the contract." Eric floated off the ground, hair rising up slightly, managing to smirk suggestively down at her. Possibly because he had an even better view of her cleavage with his vamp eyes. "Goodnight, Miss Stackhouse."
"Not going to walk me home?" Sookie teased coyly, relaxed by the brief flash of humor from him, and that he really seemed not to have any plans to kill her then bury her with one of her relatives. "You're missing out on an opportunity for a goodnight kiss."
Abruptly, Eric was crowding her, mouth inches from hers, blue eyes burning dark and hungry. "Miss Stackhouse, it would never be a goodnight kiss."
The blonde telepath startled back from him. "Oh." Her contrary nature teamed up with her libido but, fortunately, her common sense pitched in.
Sookie darted forward, and pressed her lips to his cheek. His cheek was rough with pale stubble, like sandpaper under her lips, but under that texture, there was his skin. Unblemished, pale, cool skin that smelled faintly of the ocean.
It was a brief peck, and Sookie pulled back before he could make a move to change the nature of it. With big, startled brown eyes and rumpled hair from the flying, Sookie flashed his unreadable expression a supposedly careless gap-toothed grin.
"Goodbye, Eric," she said, coming off as more nervously polite than wryly amused. Her Gran would've been proud of that.
Turning on her heel, back itching with the frantic urge to keep him in her line of sight, least he sweep her up and fly off with her again, Sookie started back home.
The next morning, when Sookie ventured downstairs in her night gown, it was to the comforting sound of Gran cooking breakfast while she talked on the phone. Usually, Sookie would've been pleased to hear her grandma talking so excitedly about anything but today, it was rattling.
After last night, everything had a surrealistic quality to it. Not to mention how few hours of sleep Sookie had been able to grab.
"You've been quiet all morning, dear," Gran said after hanging up the phone.
"Yeah," Sookie muttered absently, forcing herself to sip a glass of orange. Gran was the only person who had never tried to change her, save for scolding her for being rude, and Sookie loved her devotedly for that. Too much to worry her.
"Oh, honey. I haven't seen you this distracted..." Sookie's eyes flickered up, a hard tension balling in her small form, and Gran looked at her sadly, an old, stubborn guilt in her eyes. "In a very long time."
What Gran could have said hung just as heavily in the air.
Sookie looked back down at the table before straightening up, leaning back in her chair with a smile, orange juice in hand. "I couldn't sleep."
"I didn't hear you come in last night." Gran must have seen a slight tell on Sookie's face before she sat down, a look of sincere worry creasing her face. "Oh, Sookie. Was it Mister Compton? Did he do something untoward?"
"Untoward?" Sookie repeated, words dragged heavily down by her disbelief at such a word. "Gran, I love you but, untoward?"
Gran's frown deepened. "You're avoiding the subject," she sighed. "Your grandfather used to do the same, always joking at the slightest twitch of discomfort." While Sookie absorbed this with a raised eyebrow, the older woman leaned forward. "Did he hurt you? Shall I cancel the meeting?"
"No, and no." Sookie started to slump in her chair before she remembered one of Gran's lectures about that, and she straightened up, shaking her head, ponytail swishing. "He was a total jerk, though. The man seems to be stuck in one of your 1800s bodice ripper romances, only problem is I have a spine, but don't cancel the meeting because of that. I know you're looking forward to it."
"Oh, I am," Gran confessed, a smile lighting her face. Suddenly, Gran frowned. "Sookie..."
"I didn't punch him," she said wearily, having expected the question. "I don't know why people always ask me that whenever I argue with someone. It sounds like I'm always beatin' my customers up!"
It was a testimony to her Gran's days as a mother and a grandmother that she easily changed the subject from Sookie's slight anger issues to Bill Compton.
"Why, why, why does everything think I'm interested in Bill?" Sookie asked, torn between genuine curiosity and annoyance. Pam was one thing because, from what Sookie had seen and heard at Fangtasia, any contact between a human and a vampire usually began with the letter F.
Thinking of Eric had kept Sookie from sleeping. A dozen thoughts had shot through her mind, all focused on her blonde kidnapper. It had no hope of ending well. Eric was the type of man who killed people for angering him, and all Sookie did was anger people.
But it wasn't like she would be seeing him all of the time. Surely, she could bite her tongue on her funniest retorts for a few hours to avoid a violent death? Unless he changed his mind and killed her tomorrow. Snicker-crack. Wouldn't she hate herself for delighting in his brief flash or humor, for kissing his cheek and liking it then?
"Rumours always spring up whenever a man and a woman are close - "
"Huh?" Sookie said blankly, briefly confused before remembering. Bill Compton. Great. "We aren't close. I saved him, beat up drug dealers, and now he has this crush, like a gender-flipped version of, okay, a really old romance."
Except Sookie had zero interest in Bill. If anything, he creeped her out with the offering of blood and creepy friends and his staring habit and the whole mine bullshit. Even physically, she felt no attraction. Sookie might have given up on dating but she knew when she liked someone. She was attracted to Eric, even though she damn well knew better than to start something with him.
"Well," Gran said finally, a tired weight under the acceptance in her words. "I wish you could find someone you liked." Sookie sipped her juice. Gran tilted her head a little, a flare in her eyes. "Sookie?"
"I think the eggs are burning," Sookie said conversationally.
Between the eggs and the phone ringing off the hook, Sookie managed to fend of her Gran's questions (in the process, learning that Eric hadn't gotten around to sending a contract over) before darting upstairs to pull on her Merlotte's unifrom, and leaving for work.
After reassuring Arlene and Sam that, no, she still wasn't sleeping with Bill, and that yes, she was unharmed from her trip to Fangtasia last night. Which Sam had apparently told Arlene about, which meant that everyone in town knew.
"No more vampires?" Arlene inquired hopefully.
"No more vamp bars," Sookie said doubted Eric would be easy to shake, and she knew it would be better not to even try. "Hardly like I can ban vampires from Bon Temps," she added with a quirky smirk.
"Aw, sweetie," Arlene cooed, leaning over the bar to kiss Sookie on the cheek. For once, Arlene's thoughts were simply relieved. Sookie smiled back, faintly surprised by the glimpse of genuine affection from the redhead. "I know you ain't one of those fangbangers but I'm so glad to hear you'll be keepin' away from that vampire."
One of her customers drew Arlene away from Sookie, who turned her gaze to Sam, who smiled at her. It was a warm, friendly smile, though his blurred (and definitely supernatural) thoughts were circling around her Gran's meeting. He liked her as more than a friend, and he had for a while but he'd never acted on it.
"Chere - " Sam started, coming closer.
"Did you tell Arlene, the biggest gossip in Bon Temps, that I was goin' to a vampire bar?" Sookie asked curiously.
Sam sighed, briefly adverting his gaze, leaning his elbows on the bar. His eyes darted down to her chest before meeting her eyes. "I'm sorry, Sook - "
"Uh-huh," Sookie said slowly, sardonically. She leaned her own elbows on the bar, putting her face level with Sam's, puffing out a slow breath. "You do, ah, realize that people - young women, funnily enough - who associate with vampires have a strange habit of being horribly murdered in this town right about now?"
Sam drew back from her, eyes widening. Sookie gave him a wry smile, adding in the same vaguely serious tone of voice, "Also, someone needs to re-fill the ketchup, and I did it last time. Remind Arlene, would ya?"
Sookie shrugged casually, blowing him a random kiss before turning away from the bar, swinging her hips lightly to the music as she returned to her tables. By lunchtime, Arlene should have told everyone that she had gone off vampires. With her mouth, damage control was very much a learn or die thing.
Smirking at how accurate that had become, Sookie went over to serve Andy Bellefluer. As a child, Sookie had been fascinated by Andy and how different he'd been to the other teenagers she'd met. She could faintly remember his flustered bemusement with her nine-year-old self. It was odd how much their reactions had changed to each other.
"Detective Bellefluer," Sookie said brightly. "What can I get for you? A pound of my brother's flesh?"
Andy Bellefluer looked at her, frowning at her flippant comment. He thought of her as bratty and disrespectful but unlike most of Bon Temps, he'd never thought of her as mentally deficient. "From what I saw down at the station yesterday, you'd have a hard time detaching that flesh from Tara."
"My Tara?" Sookie wondered lightly, tilting her head to the side. Guarding her reactions was a reflex, watering down her emotions.
"Yeah. She and your brother - they serious?" I knew they were lying, he thought smugly.
"My brother and Tara..." Sookie repeated slowly, as though having a realisation. Then she let her head roll back, rocking back on her heels. Oh Tara, her heart ached. "Of course, they wouldn't tell me."
That took the wind out Andy's sails. "What?" he bit out. "You're her best friend - "
"Andy, if you slept with your sister's best friend, would you be bragging about it? Especially if you were anything like my brother? And your sister was anything like me?" Sookie pointed at his iced tea casually. "Re-fill?"
"Yeah," Andy grumbled.
Sookie took his cup, reaching out with her sixth sense for Tara, and walked through the back. Sam was standing in the hall, absently mixing a drink. He jerked in surprise when she put the cup down beside him.
"Iced Tea," she saird absently, barely remembering to add, "Please."
"Sookie - " Sam started, but the blonde shook her head; not now.
Tara was in the bathroom, adjusting her hair when Sookie walked in, closing the door firmly behind her. "Hey Sook," Tara greeted, a smile touching her face.
"You lied to Andy Bellefluer for my brother," Sookie said abruptly, staring at her. For the first time since Andy had opened his mouth, Sookie's emotions were written clearly across her face.
She was weak at the knees with relief for Jason, and worried for them both, but her heart hurt for Tara, her best friend who was in love with her self-centered brother.
Tara stiffened, dropping her arms, reflexes from living with her crazy, abusive mother. "Yeah," she spat out. "So what?"
"I - " Sookie took a deep breath, pushing off the door and folding Tara in her arms, pressing her face into her shoulder and breathing her in. "I love you unreasonably, you know?" she said with unconvincing nonchalance.
Tara was stiff for a moment, tense, like she so often was but rarely wasn't when it was just her and Sookie, before her arms came around Sookie's back. Her friend slumped into the blonde's smaller body wearily, heart-sick.
"I love you too, Sook," Tara muttered softly.
Sookie squeezed her friend tighter, her thoughts flickering strangely to kissing Eric Northman on the cheek. Curious.
Uh. Ah. I'm...I'm sorry? For whatever I did to Eric, and okay, I have no apologizes for what I did to Sookie. I like her better this way.
Feel free to look at my stories that suck less, like Crowned or Bullshit Ban.