Chapter 15 – Death by Orgasm

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“No,” she whined, defeat slumping her shoulders. “I still think you’re making a mistake. Let me know everything went okay after?”

 

“It almost sounds like you care,” he grinned.

 

“Of course I care!” she exclaimed, hastily adding, “About the company, of course! I’m a board member after all!”

 

“Sure,” he chuckled, getting up and pulling a file from his desk along with a non-descript postage box. “Speaking of, since you seem to be an expert user I’d like you to look over these proposed designs. Just pop your thoughts in the margins.”

 

She regarded him curiously, accepting the sealed box and file, and taking a quick glance at the contents. Her face instantly became red again, though Eric was quite unsure whether it was anger or embarrassment, not that he cared, the colour suited her either way. It was his favourite colour after all.

 

“Bastard!”

 

The term was getting a little old, he was already considering naming the newly modelled Thor that resided in the box Bastard instead, but he couldn’t help laugh when she dramatically exited with another pop and a rather audible huff. Normally he’d mourn that she was suddenly gone, but interestingly enough, so was the box full of toys.

 

---

 

Sookie screamed out with fright. She’d woken hazily, but with sheer terror, after another dream about Eric, of course. She and her seriously twisted subconscious needed to have a conversation about that sometime soon. The dream, perfectly nice as it had been, hadn’t been the source of the sudden outcry though.

 

“Who are you and what are you doing in my home?”

 

“Eric?” she cried out, scrambling for the light to see the sudden presence match the voice that had invaded her bed. The worst of her nerves waned with the knowledge that she hadn’t just been woken by a complete stranger intending God knows what, though he seemed to be regarding her with the same amount of confusion that she was feeling. “Your home? This hasn’t been your home for weeks now! Did you gulp down on some other faery?!”

 

“If only,” he grinned, eyeing her lasciviously, eyes stuck on her breasts for far too long, naturally, “So when can I move back in then? The florals will have to go, of course. Did Pam arrange all this? She really is such a good Childe.”

 

“What the hell is wrong with you, Eric Northman? You act like you don’t know me!”

 

“I don’t,” he purred, hovering far too close for comfort. “How about we set that right, right now?”

 

---

 

Sookie had to wonder if this was another dream, prompting her to ask, “Are you wearing socks?”

 

He regarded her with the most appropriate response, as if she just had indeed posed the strangest question in the world. “Yes,” he replied uncertainly.

 

“Take them off,” she whispered. “I want to see them.” The stance of his perturbed face prompting her to add, “Please?”

 

“Then we will commence the fucking,” he nodded agreeably, coming to stand by the end of her bed and making quick work of removing his socks. Her imminent cry of protest was silenced by a finger to her lips. “You know you want it, I’m not taking no for an answer.”

 

“You realise that is what rapists say?” she protested loudly. “There will be no fucking without my say so!”

 

He chuckled in a rather disconcerting manner, forcing her to back up further into the headboard. “Oh, you know you want this as much as I do.” Again with the creepy grin that felt very unfamiliar.

 

“Also something rapists say,” she retorted, becoming more annoyed with him. Surely he was playing her, payback had come once and for all surely, but this wasn’t funny at all. Instantly making her regret that alcohol-induced phone call where she mentioned Alcide, as if she hadn’t been regretting that more than ever thanks to a certain Ms. Pelt already, reminding her once more what an odd name that was for a Were.

 

“Right then,” he interrupted her absent gaze. “How do I say this without sounding like a rapist?”

 

“You don’t ‘say’ for starters!” she exclaimed, hiding her body further from his gaze. It was beyond creepy at this point; his face, however, remained confused, forcing her to explain the obvious, “You ask.”

 

“I ask to be a rapist?” he questioned, even more confused than her at this point. “That is not scheduled for tonight.”

 

“Scheduled? What the hell are you on about?” she cried out in exasperation. “I didn’t ask you to be here! Showing up in the middle of the night demanding a booty call, seriously, who does that?”

 

“Do you not like me?” he asked with worry, appearing the exact opposite of before, almost childlike in demeanour.

 

“I’m finding it really hard right now!” she ground out, a pang of sympathy invading her for his fragile tone, though he clearly deserved none of it.

 

“That is good!” he replied with glee. “I am hard too!”

 

“You infuriating vampire!” she screamed, conjuring up a great ball of energy in her hands as warning. “Have you lost your godforsaken mind? You do not come into a woman’s bedroom demanding sex because you have a hard on! You ask her out; make her like you, flowers, candies, talk through the night about everything and nothing at the same time. Then, maybe then, and that’s a very BIG maybe right now, buddy, she’ll invite you in and you have a chance in hell of being hers!”

 

“Have we been out together before?”

 

“Yes, but-”

 

“Excellent,” he perked up, his excessive happiness making her all the more worried for her own sanity and cognitive state. She was really hoping for this being a dream right about now, waking up would be nice right around now. “We have been out, done the talking about everything and nothing, it is night, and you just said you liked me. Is it alright if I make Pam send you the ‘flowers and candies’ in the morning?”

 

“Well, it would certainly make up for some of this, wait-”

 

“Very good! That means you are mine, then,” Eric exclaimed with delight. “We will move forward, then. To the fucking.”

 

“What, no!” she yelled, her words, however, went unheard by him at this point as his gaze was lost to his toes, which he wiggled with sheer joy upon the realisation he was the one moving them, eliciting a string of giggles in the process. This was beyond fucked up, she had to be dreaming.

 

“We will commence with the fucking?” he sounded out monotonously again, not even glancing up towards her, proceeding to unbutton his pants, and dropping them down to the floor in one fell swoop with the aid of the weight from his belt.

 

“What happened to your penis?” she cried out in horror, swallowing the protest, a litany of curse words, and a destructive ball of energy she was about to unleash on him.

 

“This,” he replied with a look of utter confusion, “is very… strange?”

 

She moved forward, pity written all over her face while staring at his torso which looked every bit like a Ken doll, smoothed down in between the legs and all.

 

“I-” Eric started only for his head to droop, his entire body slumping forward with a noise that she’d previously associated with machinery powering down.

 

“So what’s the verdict?” he asked, causing her to cry out with fright once more on account of the voice coming from by the door, by another Eric, the conjured ball of energy hitting him firmly in the chest, landing him just outside her bedroom in a dazed gaze.

 

“What is this?” she demanded angrily, hovering over his body that twitched slightly in after effects on the hallway floor. “This isn’t funny, you should have told me you had a twin! I’ve had enough multiple-cousins pretending they were each other!”

 

“Fucking hell,” the ‘live’ Eric grumbled. “Meet Thor 2.0,” he introduced, powering the impressive piece of artificial intelligence on and off in demonstration with a remote control.

 

“Explain!” she spat out, her hands moving carefully towards the Eric still in her bedroom who had remained completely still.

 

“It’s a new toy for you to test drive,” Eric grinned, entering her bedroom while still rubbing at his chest. “You forgot to take him along last time… Then again he didn’t quite fit into that box.”

 

“You asshole!” she hissed, anger rising to spectacular levels. “You should have told me! I thought he was real and something terrible had happened to you!”

 

“Hence the not telling you,” he smiled triumphantly. “Wanted to know if he could convince even the most discerning Telepath. So how did he do?”

 

“He comes on a little too strong,” Sookie answered while looking over the piece of artificial intelligence, still marvelled by the lifelike appearance of Thor 2.0. “His personality needs a bit of work, scratch that, a LOT of work,” she emphasized. “And he can’t look like you!”

 

“Why not?” he demanded with an amused grin.

 

“Because.”

 

“Because what?”

 

“I don’t like it,” she huffed, arms crossed.

 

“You liked him, then.”

 

“I certainly did not!”

 

“He had his pants down within twenty minutes flat of meeting you,” Eric pointed out. “That’s further than I ever got.”

 

“That wasn’t by my invitation! Anyhow Pam’s gotten further than you ever got within fifteen minutes of meeting me, so I wouldn’t be looking at others too closely if I were you,” she retorted weakly. In response to his enquiring gaze, she gestured at her breasts, “Pam touched them within moments of us meeting.”

 

“How?” Eric demanded in a tone that she assumed no one ever had dared denying.

 

“She’s not much of a hugger normally, now is she? Even if she is, she plays the part exceptionally well.”

 

“The sneaky little bitch,” he noted rather proudly. “Why didn’t I think of that?”

 

“Don’t think you’d still be walking and talking, buddy!” she warned, making him believe every word of the threat. “She makes it believable, you would not!”

 

“Anyhow, you have yet to answer me,” Eric pointed out. “Why can’t he look like me?”

 

“I already told you,” she huffed. “I don’t like it.”

 

“That’s not much of an answer, now is it?” he continued to push.

 

“I like you, okay! Is that what you wanted to hear, you overinflated, high-handed, pompous ass!”

 

“Yes,” he smiled. “That’s exactly what I want to hear. Also, that it’s a very nice ass.”

 

“Don’t push your luck,” she growled at his eager display of his double’s bare behind, moving his hands around it like a prime piece of meat. “This doesn’t excuse the fact that you sent in some randy robotic version of yourself to scare the crap out of me in the middle of the night!”

 

“Shit,” he corrected.

 

“What?”

 

“You can say ‘shit’ in front of me, no need to be so polite,” he smiled.

 

“Now you’re just being ornery,” she huffed.

 

“Is it working?”

 

“No,” she lied, a telling smile betraying her.

 

While internally congratulating himself with the ease at which he diverted her attention away from his wrongdoings, Eric remembered her words about asking, and the other helpful ways of making her his, or rather making him hers, so he asked, “Will you help me fix his personality? So he’ll be more like me?”

 

“That’s a pretty tall order.”

 

“Good thing we’re both tall then,” he jested. She tried to hide her smile again at the stupid joke with a shake of her head, but it was hard to miss.

 

“I’m serious about not wanting some sex doll double of you roaming the earth,” she interjected with a frown. “One of you is way too much to handle already.”

 

“You asked to help with the witch problem,” he pointed out. “This would be helping. In fact, you inspired it.”

 

“I am soooo not responsible for that,” she spat out with distaste for the hunch-backed android that was still standing perfectly still at the end of her bed with his pants puddled around his feet. At least he wasn’t wearing socks.

 

“‘She can just buy herself a ‘Thor’ like the rest of us.’ left your lips yesterday, I believe,” he recounted. “Made me remember we still had this in development when that stupid witch refused to negotiate tonight.”

 

“You’re going to make him have sex with the witch?” she posed disbelievingly. “Aside from the personality disorder, he’s clearly missing an essential body part.”

 

He shrugged, “She’ll be dead by then. I’m told his oral skills are working exactly as they should. He’ll get her right to the edge and just when she’s tumbling towards sweet release, I jump in and rip her head off.”

 

“Death by orgasm?” Sookie posed with a shake of her head. “Do me a favour and run this scenario by Niall. You’ve clearly never had to deal with an actual magic practitioner before.”

 

“I find ripping off heads are the solution to everything,” he dismissed.

 

“Of course you do,” she replied, unsurprised. “Never heard of magic booby traps, have you? Probably got stuck on the ‘booby’ part if you did. If that witch has any sense and genuine power, and I assume she does since you actually bother to acknowledge her as a threat, she’ll have the necessary protections in place when she’s at her most vulnerable. Thor over there is not the answer.”

 

“You just don’t want me or him to sleep with her,” he grinned triumphantly. “Any version of me it appears. I’m touched!”

 

“That’s not it at all!” she denied, though she had to admit no matter how creepy Thor 2.0 was, she didn’t like the idea either way. “How would you like it if some ho-bag version of me was running around all over town?”

 

“Like I’d even let her out the door,” he scoffed. “But until the lab figures out how to replicate those spectacular breasts of yours, I’ll never know.”

 

“Don’t you dare make a version of me!” she fumed. “I will rip off your head!”

 

“Didn’t you just point out that wasn’t the solution to anything?” he replied, smug as ever. “Besides, you seemed rather attached to seeing this head carry on not that long ago.”

 

“That head, yes,” Sookie replied pointedly. “Then again, I wasn’t talking about that head,” she continued, letting her gaze fall to his crotch. “Exactly how much do you want to resemble your twin over there?”

 

“You wouldn’t,” he replied while stifling the involuntary gasp that had threatened to escape him.

 

“Try me,” she warned. “I can make it permanent too, I know a witch, too.”

 

“Fine,” he spat out. “What do you propose to do instead?”

 

“What’s the witch’s name?”

 

“Why does that matter?”

 

“My college roommate, Amelia-”

 

“The one you had a lesbian experience with?” he interjected eagerly. Of course, he’d remember that detail.

 

“It wasn’t a lesb-” she started to deny immediately. “Never mind, she’s the witch I know. I never really involved myself much with her Wiccan lifestyle, but I do remember that they all know each other and keep each other in check. If this witch isn’t abiding by the ‘live and let live’ attitudes while passing around the peace pipe and abusing her magic for malice, there will be others far more powerful than her interested in her whereabouts. Why make a mess when you can get someone else to clean it up for you? So, name?”

 

Begrudgingly he gave Sookie all the information he had on the witch, adding with a grumble, “You realise I haven’t been able to kill a thing since you showed up in my life. I miss ripping off heads.”

 

“Poor little vampire,” she said with mock sympathy, patting the top of his head to add to the condescension. Pointing at his inanimate doppelgänger, she proposed, “How about you start with that one over there?”

 

“It’s not the same when they were never really alive to begin with,” he pouted, briefly admiring his own backside, still standing, bare and exposed in the middle of the room. If Sookie wasn’t willing tonight… perhaps. He shook his head, knowing that would be an extreme form of narcissism that he doubted even he could participate in, and he moved to refasten the pants back up on Thor 2.0, hiding his excitement that, thanks to the ‘man’ with the inability to be ‘excited,’ Sookie had admitted to liking him enough not for anyone else to have him, in any shape or form. Belt firmly looped in place, he glanced down to see all was in place as before, and noting the bare feet with curiosity, he asked, “So tell me, Sookie, what’s with the socks?” only for her to flush red all over again. Noted, Sookie likes socks. Now all he had to do was change that into ‘cocks’, more specifically, his cock. Maybe if he put it in a sock? Perhaps Adele would knit him one?

 

“Nothing,” she stammered.

 

“For a telepath, you’re a terrible liar,” he grinned.

 

“Maybe I’m only a terrible liar around you,” she blurted out. “I mean-”

 

“I know what you mean,” he grinned, his eyebrows dancing on his face in sheer delight while her complexion only seemed to turn all the paler, sweat bubbling nervously on her forehead. “I know exactly what you mean. Want me to take my socks off now, or later?”

 

He couldn’t help but chuckle as her dry mouth inhibited her from sounding out anything coherent or offer explanation to the meaning of socks that brought her out in a fluster, only managing something resembling a wheeze. “Don’t worry, little faery,” he doted, patting her head condescendingly in the same manner as she had done to him only moments ago. “Come morning, expect flowers, candy, and anything else your heart desires to show up on your doorstep.”

 

“You don’t have to-”

 

“Perhaps even a pair of socks,” he grinned. “Though I’m more of a stockings man myself.”

 

“What?”

 

His finger came to rest on her lips, his doppelgänger proved an excellent study on her reception of him after all. Who knew the way to silence her was as simple as this? “And then I will simply ask, and you will say yes.”

 

“You’re beginning to sound an awful lot like him,” she replied with a grimace.

 

“Here’s the difference between him and I,” he said evenly, gesturing at the bot with a hint of distaste. “If you say ‘no’, I’ll hear you and understand what that means. Of course I will endeavour every which way to convince you otherwise, but if it is a ‘no’ I hear from you, I will leave you be. But that ‘no’ better be firm and final.”

 

“Yes.”

 

“What?” he questioned, despite his preternatural hearing barely having registered the word as it escaped her lips.

 

“Yes,” she repeated, firm and final, loudly, “Yes, I’ll go out with you.” Surprised he couldn’t help but mirror her offered smile, his far less cautious than hers, thoughtfully she added, “Wear socks.”

   

>

 

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A/N: *snicker* so it wasn’t amnesia this time… I just couldn’t castrate Eric, he’s been suffering enough at the hands of Sookie throughout this story and I found that even I am not that cruel… So did we like Thor 2.0, well ‘liking him’ is perhaps the wrong question, did we like his ‘presence’?

 

Despite the slight nod to James Joyce’s beautiful closing lines in Ulysses with this chapter’s ending, I think the muse is still insisting on continuing this story a little further… possibly… maybe…

 

Much thanks to msbuffy, who I hope by now has recovered from her giggle snorting over Eric as a very smooth Ken doll 😉