“We were going to go on a date,” she repeated. “Then, you know, if it went well, maybe another, and then, you know… stuff happens.”
“Stuff that leads to babies,” she huffed. “If we were normal. Anyhow stuff that already happened.”
“Sex,” he corrected, a huge grin emerging, the thoughts of sex and Sookie tended to do that. It was after all why he cursed her specific, albeit glorious, breasts on a daily basis, who just happened to haunt him on a daily basis, which wasn’t very helpful when he was trying to forget the possibility that the owner of said breasts had possibly magically impregnated him. Somehow as much as that possibility had terrified him, the odd imagery now printed out and firmly tucked in his wallet wasn’t as scary anymore. If there ever was going to be a vampire to carry a baby to term, he wasn’t the worst of his kind to do so.
“Yeah,” she squirmed, cheeks flaming. “Is it really that wrong of me to think that if those things go well that somewhere down the line that leads to marriage? I was raised human after all, well, mostly.”
“So,” he began, his tone gravelly while closing the small distance between them, causing her breath to hitch. “What you were trying to say was, why stop something that was already on its course if that’s where we might end up anyway.”
“I think you should move in!” she blurted out in response. “I mean come inside me! With me! Cheese and rice, what is wrong with me?”
“You’re nervous,” he replied with a laugh, delighting in the reveals of her Freudian slip, his hand coming to caress her cheek. “It’s cute.”
“I’m not cute,” she huffed, averting the statement, but making no sign of moving out of their close stance.
Eric ignored the renunciation, offering instead, “You’re not wrong either.”
“What?” she asked with confusion, finding his lips suddenly very close to hers.
“Invite me in, Sookie.”
“You already have an invite,” she managed to stammer in confusion while responding to his suddenly probing lips as they moved against hers with familiarity, momentarily forgetting exactly what they were discussing again.
“Invite me in,” he repeated while they clumsily moved into the apartment entangled in the other, despite the difference in height and navigating walking backwards while kissing, when she didn’t respond beyond the murmurs and appreciative moans as his hands roamed her body, he simply asked, hoping to settle more than one lingering confusion all at once, “Socks on or off?”
Finally catching on, she replied with a knowing glint to her eyes, nervousness and embarrassment long gone, dragging his body towards her bedroom, “Off, definitely off.”
Sookie awoke with a contented smile on her face that only seemed to grow with the resurfacing memories that had finally put her to sleep despite her best efforts to stay awake and never let the night end. After the initial fumbling and inevitable warning glare when a rather impatient vampire had threatened to rip off her clothing, things had gone surprisingly rather well and, most importantly, without any interruptions. However, when her arms stretched wide, she found the bed unexpectedly empty and with a startle, found no trace of the vampire at all. Mild panic struck instantly, had it all been a dream?
It hadn’t. Spotting a stray sock that was definitely not hers confirmed as much when she switched on her bedside lamp, and, slipping on her robe, she went in search of Eric. Her bathroom proved empty though surprisingly cleaner than she remembered, it almost sparkled like it did on TV commercials. She happily blamed it on Eric’s prowess, it made everything look better after all.
“What are you doing?” Sookie demanded after she found him in her laundry room, startling the vampire into dropping the towel in his hands and angrily throwing it back into the washing machine while grumbling about ‘bacteria’ and ‘contamination.’
“This place is filthy!” he announced. “How can you live like this?” Sookie gasped, outraged, only for him to continue to rant, “And who folds like this? It’s messy. Everyone knows to fold in three lengthways and then in four.” She blinked, stunned to silence while he demonstrated his ‘superior’ towel folding techniques. “Then you stack them alternatingly, really, Sookie, it isn’t that hard.”
“What?” Sookie finally managed to splutter. “Why?”
He merely shrugged, “Why not?”
“I need a gallon of coffee,” she grumbled, “and some pancakes.”
“I threw out all your food,” he continued, sanguinely carrying on with the rest of the load. “It was full of chemicals.”
“Everything is chemicals!” she cried out, outraged. “What gives you the right?”
He regarded her seriously, answering rather calmly, “It’s for the baby.”
“You don’t eat!”
“Doesn’t mean I should be exposing our child to it! I certainly don’t want him eating it either. The sooner we get rid of it the better.”
“This is insane!” Sookie retorted. “And where did you learn to fold like that?” She was, she had to admit, rather impressed by the very neat stack of towels.
“Martha Stewart,” he replied nonchalantly, explaining further when Sookie failed to hide her smile miserably, “Pam had a thing for her, and it was that or the Home Shopping Network for late night TV entertainment in the nineties. The woman is a genius.”
“Sure,” she replied sardonically. “Hey, Eric.”
“What?” he replied, still distracted by his folding.
“Eric,” she whispered, “Look at me.”
“Not now,” he replied with a frown. “Have to get this done.”
“Eric, I’m naked!” she cried out, having slipped out of her robe long ago experimentally wondering if he’d notice.
He looked up, sporting her identical look of confusion before dropping what he was doing instantly to fly her into his arms with an excited growl only for his nose to wrinkle, and stepping back he informed with a grimace, “You should probably shower first.” Heading towards the bedroom and leaving behind a completely befuddled Sookie, he added with some urgency, “And I need to wash the sheets!”
“We’re going to need to establish some ground rules,” Sookie informed brusquely. The shower that left her cleaner than she’d probably ever been in her entire life had done little to lift her mood. “You can’t just come into my home and start tossing things out.”
“We’re married now, are we not?” he countered, setting down a plate of fresh fruit for her that she picked at, but reluctantly ate, annoyed at how good it tasted to her rather empty stomach. She nodded begrudgingly, she’d been fine with the ‘we’re married’ last night, but now, not so much. “So this is no longer your home, it is our home. I think we should change the study into Eric Junior’s room. We need to redecorate anyhow.”
“What the- No! You can’t just decide all these things without me! That’s not what being married is about at all!” she replied angrily. “And who says it’s a boy? It might be Sookie Jr. in there!”
He shrugged, lovingly caressing his stomach, and smiling with the sensation, “It feels like a boy.”
“You’re going pretty quickly from feeling nothing to knowing everything,” Sookie grumbled under her breath.
“I heard that!” he huffed, pulling the plate away at the exact moment Sookie had set her sights on a ripe strawberry, only to be poking at air. “Maybe I should just do this on my own! I keep a much cleaner home; Eric Jr. will certainly be better for it!”
“That’s it,” Sookie seethed. It was bad enough to be rejected when she was horny, and naked, and for her house to be turned upside down by an obsessive vampire, but now she was fucking hungry and he had taken away her food! “I’m calling Dr. Ludwig! You’re going insane!”
“If you think being a responsible parent is ‘insane,’” he mimed with quotation marks that frankly looked ridiculous coming from a man his size, no matter the situation, “then by all means call me insane! And please, do call Dr. Ludwig, I’m sure she’ll be happy to point out the squalid conditions you consider to be just ‘fine.’”
“You’re nesting, you idiot!” Sookie cried out. “You’ve clearly overdosed on the oestrogen. Your penis doesn’t even acknowledge me anymore, Mr. Flaccid.”
“I am not flaccid!” he seethed, angrily, dropping her plate and foolishly trying to catch the remains as it broke on the edge of the countertop, only for him to cut himself and blood to come gushing out. She sped to his side, wrapping a cloth around it, and shushing his objections of possible germs on the random cloth with an angry glare.
“You okay?” she whispered, while he continued to whimper with her ministrations, his nostrils flaring back and forth with every drop of blood she dabbed away. She gave the skin a soft kiss when the wound healed itself, only for him to make a hungry noise at sight of his blood on her lips. “When was the last time you ate?”
“I-,” he replied, startled, “I don’t remember.”
“What do you mean, you don’t remember? How can you not remember?”
“The thought of eating makes me ill,” he whimpered, his eyes stuck on her stained lips. “I don’t want to throw up.”
“For how long?” Sookie demanded sternly.
“Since before,” he replied succinctly.
“Before, when?” she scrutinised only for him to remain painfully silent. “Before the whole magic amnesiac cat adventure? Eric, how can you not eat all this time? It’s been a month!”
“I’m old,” he shrugged, “I don’t need to eat much.”
“You don’t need to?” Sookie practically screamed out. “You complain about the chemicals in my house, but don’t bother to eat all this time? You could have killed our baby! Were you trying to kill our baby?” Eric regarded her in alarm, and failing to respond, she concluded, “Oh my God! You were trying to kill our baby!”
He grabbed her arms, urging her to calm down, “Not on purpose!”
“Oh, great!” Sookie retorted angrily, “You were only trying to kill our baby half-heartedly! I should have known better, you’re a vampire after all!”
“If you want me to eat, I’ll eat!” he growled back angrily, pulling a bottle of the detested TruBlood from the fridge to prove he wasn’t a terrible father-to-be. It was chock full of nasty chemicals, but since neither Sookie nor he would be ingesting it, it had been one of the few items to survive the purge. The single gulp he managed to swallow with great disdain flew out the instant it hit the back of his throat. “I’m sorry,” he coughed, wiping furiously at his mouth, “I can’t.”
Her face softened, “Sit,” she urged kindly, pointing at the sofa. Wearily, he did as instructed and sat still as she knelt beside him, cleaning away the remnants of synthetic blood with a wet cloth. “You think you can stomach donor blood?” He was about to object verbally only for his stomach to recoil noisily. “Is this why you didn’t bite me last night?” she asked, a hint of insecurity lacing her tone while her eyes averted his in fear of the answer.
“No,” he replied gently, his hand coming to rest on her cheek, urging her eyes to look up again.
“Not something you do without asking,” he explained, hoping to put her at ease. “Not like we talked much before about what is and what isn’t okay.”
“Sure,” she replied, though still visibly feeling rejected.
He pulled her to sit in his lap, tracing the outlines of her face and with a smile he offered, “It’s not what you think.”
“Don’t tell me what to think,” she replied coolly. “I’m not an idiot, Eric Northman. Sex and blood go together for vampires, don’t try to whitewash it for me.”
“I’m not,” he replied defensively. “It is for some, it isn’t for all. Besides, I bit you once without permission, wasn’t going to try that again, was I? You don’t hear me demanding to know why you didn’t stick your finger up my ass last night either, now am I?”
“What?” she replied in confusion. “You’d want that?”
“On occasion,” he deadpanned, adding with a smirk, “You’d have to wash your hands first, Mrs. Filth.”
“You’re the one who brought it up!” she cried out in mock rage, swatting his chest while poorly hiding her smile.
“Thought it was a Faery thing,” he joked, taking her hands in his. “Such delicate fingers you all have.”
“I think it’s more a Claude thing,” Sookie replied with a laugh, watching as his fingers came to rest on the pulse in her wrist, acquiescently her neck shifted in an offering stance, eyes fluttering up to his, “Still hungry?”
Eric’s eyes lit up and he proceeded to nuzzle her neck with an answering hungry growl, his tongue running out to numb the increasingly harder beating artery before latching on with a satiated moan that, much to her own surprise, Sookie echoed. She eventually had to squeeze his arm when she started to feel woozy and, unlike the last time this happened, he released her with ease, taking the care to seal the wound while she hazily nuzzled further into him. “Someone’s no longer Mr. Flaccid,” she giggled into his ear.
“I’ll show you flaccid,” he growled, flipping her under him on the couch with a loud ‘eep’, only for it to be swallowed by his lips against hers.
“Good evening, good evening!” Pam interrupted with perhaps a little too much pep.
“Sis!” Jason cried out in delayed response from behind the rolling clothing rack he was pushing in, “Get your filthy paws of him!”
Eric and Sookie regarded each other with shared annoyance, only to set their gaze at the interrupting couple. Trying to regain some semblance of propriety, Sookie clutched her robe closed before scolding her brother, “We’re married, Jason, and are about to have a baby, and we have sex, deal with it.”
“I-” he spluttered, only to be silenced by a mere raising of Pam’s brows, forcing him to grumble out a half-hearted apology.
“What can we do for you, Pam?” Eric asked with a grumble, coming to leisurely sit on the sofa, hoping to further offend Jason with the rather prominent bulge on display.
“Eric!” Sookie cried out as she took in the bulging eyes of her brother, covering the offensive sight with a pillow, only for him to cry out at the sudden assault. With realisation, she gasped, “I’m so sorry!”
“Well, that solves that problem,” he grumbled with a groan.
“I’m really sorry,” she whispered beside him.
He took her hand, kissing it softly in assurance, “I’ve suffered through far worse.” She nodded, though it had done little to abate her guilt. With a wink he added, “You’ll just have to make it up to me later, Mrs. Filth.”
“The hell she will! You’ll be coming home with us tonight, Sook!” Jason protested, only to be met by three sets of menacing glares, forcing him to tail off, “…or not.”
“We brought presents!” Pam announced cheerfully in an effort to distract everyone.
“They’re not exactly presents when I paid for them myself,” Eric noted, gesturing at the rack of clothes.
“Not those!” she beamed back, thrusting a wrapped slim box at them.
Eric eyed her suspiciously as Sookie took the offering. “You don’t give presents, Pam. Not even a baby would make you give parents. What’s going on?”
“I’m not that self-involved!” she denied.
“Yes, you are,” Eric retorted calmly, his eyes narrowing further.
“Bringing up Baby?” Sookie questioned, holding up the unwrapped DVD.
“How drôle,” Eric replied sarcastically, setting aside the screwball comedy starring Katherine Hepburn and Cary Grant caring for a pet leopard, Baby. Pam never was one for subtlety after all.
“Well, I like it,” Sookie smiled, while Pam snickered at her lack of understanding. “Thank you Pam. I love Katherine Hepburn.”
“It’s human, Pam,” Eric warned, he’d studied the sonographic imaging long enough to confirm there wasn’t any sign of a tail or fur. Pam merely raised her brow in disbelief, forcing him to amend, “Well, not feline. How did you get in?”
“Adele gave us the keys,” Pam beamed excitedly. “Lovely woman she is. She even knitted the baby some socks.”
“I’ll change the locks,” Sookie whispered in assurance to Eric while looking on in horror at the sight of the tiny socks that were made of the exact same fluffy wool that they’d seen Adele crochet around Godric’s cock. “And those are never seeing the light of day.”
“Agreed,” Eric said lowly, “I suppose there’s more, Pam?”
“Now why would you think that?” she tittered.
“You’re far too joyful,” he pointed out. “It’s not like you to be this cheery.”
“Hey!” Jason protested. “I damn well make her cheery!”
“Shut up, Jason,” Pam growled.
With a gulp he responded meekly, “Yes, dear.”
“Pam,” Eric toned out sternly. “Out with it.”
Her tone fell instantly bright again, and handing over a thick envelope, she said, “You are both cordially invited.”
“The wedding?” Eric sighed. “Pam, if you think I’m walking you down the aisle pregn-”
She held up her hand, silencing him, “Of course not, Maker mine. Just think of the indecency!”
“The what now?” Jason questioned while Eric opened the thick envelope.
“He did what?!” Eric cried out in rage, dropping the invitation in Sookie’s lap who looked equally horrified at what the intricate script spelled out. “I don’t care if he’s my Maker, he has no right to do this!”
“Eric!” Sookie scolded, though not very happy with the news, she couldn’t ignore the insult to her grandmother.
“It’s my fucking company,” he growled in return, surprising Sookie slightly.
“Gran wrote a book?” Jason perked up eagerly when Sookie handed the invitation to him. “And she gets her own toy line to go with it? No fair!”
“Jas,” Sookie warned, but he barely heard her.
“If anyone should get a toy line, it should be me!” he ranted. “What does Gran know about toys anyway? At least I still play with my He-Man collection when it’s bath time-”
“Not those kind of toys,” Pam cackled, and when Jason merely stared back dumbly, she added, “You know, the kind of toys we bought last night.”
“Oh, those toys,” Jason grinned knowingly before it finally dawned on him, “Wait, what?! Gran… toys? Those kind of toys?”
In an offer of solidarity Eric proposed, “I’ll get a stake, you get a shovel.” And with a mere nod that spoke more words than most men ever would, a pact was settled.
A/N: Much thanks to msbuffy who’d I happily supply with a Jason Stackhouse action figure of her own but alas I have yet to find one. So… Eric’s nesting with Martha Stewart (one must admit the woman does know how to fold 😉 ) and Gran has her very own sex toy line to go with that awful, truly awful, book of hers, I wonder if they’ve included those fluffy cock cozies? And if you’re wondering why they’re fluffy you’ll just have to read my comment exchange with mom2goalies on the last chapter 😀
More Mrs. Filth and Mr. Flaccid next time. Commenty things and stuff welcome below 😉