“Sir, ma’am, please!” came the begging voice of the stewardess between knocks on the door.
“We’re busy!” she growled out from the cramped bathroom. “Fuck!”
“Ma’am, I have to ask you to return to your seats,” the stewardess attempted once more trying desperately to sound stern and authoritarian.
“YES! Now you owe me two FUCKING more!” Pam screamed from her contorted position against the metal sink demanding her equal pay-out of the usual sum of one orgasm per child. It had been the only convincing argument that had allowed Niall access back between her legs after her horrific trauma of childbirth; that and the promise not to secretly impregnate her again. She, however, failed to notice that it was his secret campaign to have her begging for more children, always leaving her slightly wanting in the end. With Sookie and Eric now pregnant, in Niall’s opinion they were seriously lagging behind.
“Ma’am, you really need to get back to your seat now,” the stewardess pleaded. As time dragged on without an answer, the woman was ready to rip the hair from her own head with the ‘difficult’ passengers. “The captain has demanded it for the safety of everyone on account of the turbulence.”
The door swung open with force as the woman was greeted by a glaringly white set of fangs and nostrils that flared with exhalation, Niall still firmly lodged into her backside. “We’re FUCKING immortal. Now FUCK off unless you want to be dinner!” she hissed out while Niall managed a polite nod with a swirl of the hips. “UNH! And who the FUCK doesn’t serve spaghetti?”
“Yes, ma’am,” the woman returned meekly before spinning on her heels to buckle herself into a designated seat.
“Aunt Sookie,” Bran, the most gentle of Pam’s children whispered while he asked for silent permission to crawl into her lap. He was the one child who ever needed to be reminded not to solely talk in his head.
“Come here,” Sookie smiled while she hoisted the little boy up, and checking if all the other kids were still fast asleep in their respective seats. They all continued to snore contentedly, something she was very happy about since Niall and Pam were doing unspeakable things while Eric was lowly threatening the pilots in the cockpit for daring to endanger his family with this ‘turbulence nonsense’. He had already suited up in his leathers for the possibility that he needed to jump out and steady the plane while he continued to berate them for their incompetence and severe lack of flying skill vowing vocally never to fly with this particular airline again.
It had been a trying journey already and they were only on the second leg of the three plane journey to Sweden to spend Christmas in the ‘windy shithole.’ It was, however, the transatlantic flight that had them cooped up with the masses for hours now. Sookie tenderly caressed the blonde little locks of hair from the slightly frightened boy in her lap while continuing to monitor the pilots’ state of minds. It was only moments later when the plane settled down to an accommodating glide through the air that a triumphant Eric returned walking proudly tall down the aisle despite the limited headspace.
Sookie gave an admonishing glare which he happily ignored and instead kissed her forehead while throwing her a questioning glance at the child in her lap. “The turbulence gave him a bit of a fright,” she whispered when the boy had finally fallen asleep again. He gave a brief nod before taking the expansive business class seat – a compromise between Sookie and Pam after many arguments between the merits of first over economy and vice versa – beside her again, monitoring the rest of their travel companions just as she had done moments earlier.
A worried hand snaked in between her stomach and Bran’s sleeping body to caress the familiar rounding with worry of its contents. Sookie emitted a small sigh, touched by his concern but feeling smothered by the continual charting of her every move nonetheless. “They’re fine,” she smiled. “We’re all still in working order.”
“Carrot?” he offered holding up a re-sealable bag with his meticulously cut matchstick pieces of the vegetable that had been grown with not a pesticide in sight. He pouted a little when she shook her head in response, not daring to bring up the need of the necessity of fruits and vegetables in her diet now that she was eating for four. While she agreed with him in part, his logic of four times an adult portion to her standard one and a half was simply overkill in her mind.
As he had just done with her, she simply kissed away the unpleasant sight of his disappointment, a coping mechanism that had emerged with the impact of little Eva’s destructive hands as not everything could be so easily repaired by her brother. A smile appeared on his face to mirror hers while he caressed her cheek before fingering a lock of her hair with the knowledge that all was well again.
“Mine!” Pinnie screamed while tugging at the tiny suitcase in her brother’s firm hold where they effectively blocked the alleyway for all the passengers who patiently stood waiting to disembark the plane.
“No, it’s mine!” he growled back ferociously. The tug of war came to an abrupt end as the contents of the hand luggage, incidentally belonging to neither one of them, erupted around them littering the floor and seats.
Pam glowered at them from her distinctive height, taking in the all too familiar sight of ravage. “If I hear the word ‘Mine’ out of any of your yappy little mouths one more time, none of you get turned at eighteen!” she warned lowly while the two were quick to clean the mess they made with the unspoken threat in her voice.
“But, Mummy,” little Spike whined with a tremble in his voice, horrified at the thought of not being exactly like his Uncle Spike.
“Daddy says you’re not allowed to turn us,” Pinnie tattled with waggling eyebrows that she mysteriously seemed to have inherited from Eric.
“Daddy says a lot of stupid things,” Pam growled while throwing him a scolding gaze. He merely shrugged innocently in response as he helped their other three children into whatever missing pieces of clothing they had wormed out of during the long flight.
“HEY!” Little Spike accused, hoping to win his mother’s favour by turning on his little sister. “When did you become such a white hat?” he complained in emulation of his uncle’s words who was currently holding down the fort by sitting on Fangtasia’s throne. In contrast to Eric, Spike quite enjoyed inhabiting that throne, especially since the clientele had gotten wind of the romance between Eric and Sookie. Since Spike refused to feed or fuck on any of them, for he felt just like thrall it was too easy and therefore failed to pique his interest, the crowd came in night upon night in the hope of being his girl in a white dress that would steal his heart away. Incidentally it was a boy in a white dress.
“Sit!” Pam commanded when she put the two bickering children side by side in one of the seats and with her super-speed picked up all the spilled contents before allowing a rare apologetic smile to grace her face towards the line of eagerly waiting passengers who were becoming more and more impatient by the blockage for which she quickly stepped aside.
“Mummy, Spikey pinched me!”
“Did not! An’ stop calling me Spikey, I’m not a dog!”
“Did so! SPIKEY!”
“Do you want Mummy’s fangs to come out?” Pam warned lowly while she watched the whites of their eyes expand before they burst into laughter.
“And do wha’?” Little Spike chortled.
“Bite us?” Pinnie chimed in, gasping for air between her giggles. “As if you would!”
Pam merely rolled her eyes, unwilling to acknowledge that particular truth while she gestured for the waiting line of people to go on their merry way with a flash of fangs that luckily still had some impact on the unaware.
“Are we in Sveeden yet?” Eva questioned her two cousins from her perched position in the seat in front of them where she rested her head on Eric’s shoulder.
“Sverige,” he emphasised in correction, reminding them all of the Swedish lessons he had drilled into them for the month since the plans for this family holiday had been formed. The kids did as ever and simply ignored the authoritarian figure with another petulant roll of their eyes, taught to them by Pam, whose lessons in contrast had a surprising staying power.
“Oh,” she yawned when Pinnie and little Spike shook their heads indicating they’d only made it as far as France. Her eyelids fell heavy again to continue to snore into her father’s neck.
“Your children are adorable,” a woman complimented Pam when she passed by on her way to the exit.
The vampiress cocked a brow staring down the woman as if she were mad. “You’ve got to be kidding right?” Pam questioned while the two kids batted their lashes as if they were pure innocence themselves. With the genteel smile and the soft caress of Pinnie’s cheek the woman denied every assumption of the statement. “Want to take them? I’ve had enough of them now.”
“Mon dieu!” the woman exclaimed with horror before she quickly continued her way out muttering her disapproval of their mother in her native tongue.
“See,” Pam spoke pointedly to the two most petulant of her brood. “Not even crazy French ladies want you.”
“Pff,” Pinnie huffed before repeating the words her father spoke to her mother more often than she could count. “You know you love us.”
“Niall!” Pam hissed across the aisle while he appeared lost in his guide book. “Niall!”
“Yes, dear?” he finally perked up when little Spike nudged him under his mother’s commanding gaze.
“Our daughter seems to have taken after the snow,” she spoke with annoyance as she pointed at their little ‘angel’ making snow angels on the embankment beside the tarmac of the runway.
“How did she get there?” Niall asked while scratching his head, peering over Pam’s body in the airline seat.
“How do you think?” she countered while smacking the puzzling hand from his hair. “Little bitch decided to teleport out at the first sight of the white powder.”
“Right,” he agreed befuddled before popping away to chase after their daughter.
“Damnit,” Pam growled when she watched Niall indulge Pinnie in her game of hide and go seek in the fresh snow. “One through four get in line,” she commanded of the remaining children left behind with her in the nearly empty cabin. “One and two you’re with me, three and four go with Eric.”
The four boys nodded meekly in their still belted seats recognising their mother in her all too serious mode. “What about Pinnie?” Bran asked with worry for his little sister.
“They’ll find us eventually,” Pam sighed when lifting the boy in her arms, kissing the crown of soft hair gently as he snuggled into one side of her body while her other hand held onto Little Spike pulling him protectively into her other side.
“Mummy, our bags,” the little boy tugging on her arm pointed out.
“Right,” she spoke with realisation before catching the eye of an innocent passenger. “You, Human, carry our bags.”
“Yes Human!” Little Spike hissed between his blunt teeth as if he sported the same impressive incisors as his mother, incidentally not two days ago they had fallen out with an encouraging twist of his sister’s fingers which had him convinced his true fangs would grow in any day now.
“What did I say about calling people Human?” Pam admonished with a light pat to the back of his head.
“But, Mummy!” he protested at the hypocrisy, his mother, however; stopped listening long ago while dragging him off the plane to join Eric and Sookie at the baggage claim area.
“Should I zap them Momma?” Eva asked Sookie impatiently as they watched Eric chase after Sprig and Tack, who even with his supernatural vampire speed had the Viking panting after them with little result, while they continued to run over the conveyor belts in the opposite direction, jumping over luggage and suitcases as if it were an obstacle course.
“I think your Pappa can manage,” her mother answered just before Eric successfully scooped both boys back in his grasp while cursing profusely in Swedish, which for once caught the attention of all those around him causing Eric to nervously apologise with two flailing little boys in his arms.
“So,” Pam noted dryly with a single cocked brow as Sookie nervously looked on how to fetch their first pieces of luggage that were appearing on the luggage carousel, the weight and tire of the long journey that still didn’t seem to end wearing her down, while the children had more energy than any of the adults could keep up with.
“Fine,” Sookie huffed in defeat. “It was an awful idea to book a commercial flight.”
“What are you saying dear Sookie?” Pam grinned triumphantly when Niall and Pinnie finally joined them, dripping wet with snow only to be met by her scornful gaze at the sight.
“You were right,” Sookie grumbled, particularly agitated with that admission. “Book the damn private jet for when we go home.”
“This is the windy shithole?” Sookie whispered with wonder when she saw the large structure appear in the distance as their SUV crawled over the virgin snow to close the last leg of their long and tiresome journey.
“You don’t like it?” Eric asked with worry reaching for her hand across the mid-console.
“No,” she hastily answered. “I mean it’s beautiful, but when Pam said windy shithole…”
“This isn’t what you imagined,” he sighed. “Let me show you around.”
Sookie didn’t hesitate to get out of the car before checking on the three sleeping children in the back seat to follow Eric in.
“You didn’t just have this built when I surprised you with this trip, did you?” she asked nervously reminding him of this gift she had arranged with Pam as her Thanksgiving anniversary present to him, this holiday where he could proudly show his children where he had grown up.
“No,” he chuckled when taking her gloved hand in his. “It’s been like this for a couple of years.”
“Why does Pam call it the windy shithole then?” she asked upon entering the light and spacious wooden home, knocking the snow off her boots before entering.
“She’s never been a fan of contemporary homes,” Eric shrugged before pulling her in for a kiss with the realisation that this would most likely be a rare moment of solitude and there would be no little waggling tongues proclaiming them as ‘gross’ for such displays of affection. “Thank you älskling, it’s good to be home.”
“Mmmm, it feels like home, me and you under the stars,” she murmured back against his lips when they momentarily glanced up to the impressive night sky through the window over the hall. She took a longer glance around the living room while still in his encompassing embrace, her head resting against his chest, noticing the small things she was sure he had placed recently; the soft cushions in her favoured colours, the added safety features for the children by the stairs and a brand new kitchen. She smiled up at him through tired lashes, thankful that they made it so far without too much issue. A soft kiss was placed against the bottom of his chin before she thoughtfully declared, “It is home.”
A/N: Part two will be up tomorrow, I hope you all enjoyed getting reaquainted with the kids again… love to hear thoughts as always and a Merry Christmas Eve to all that celebrate 🙂
Special thanks to MsBuffy my editor extraordinaire and Charity for talking me off a ledge 😉