19-21

Chapter 19: Chapter 19


SPOV:

“And you have your passport, right?”

“Yes, daughter I do. You really shouldn’t worry about me so much. I’m going to get on that plane full with my wonderful meal and my wonderful wine with the knowledge that my wonderful daughter is happy and working towards her dream. What else could a man want?”

“The love of a good woman,” I said, hinting again about Maria.

“Old men have no use for women. We’re far too set in our ways.”

“Aw you’re not so old, daddy and besides, I think no one should turn down someone who could love them. It’s not like we’re overrun with that. Everyone could use a little more love.”

“You sound like a Hallmark card, Sookie.”

Thanks, dad. But seriously if you don’t tell Maria how you feel, you’re being an idiot.”

“How do you think I feel?”

“You love her; you’ve loved her for most of my life and you both think Ames and I don’t notice.”

“Sookie, Maria and I have never acted upon anything that we may or may not have felt. Not that I’m saying there are feelings there.”

“Well, why the hell not? Daddy, you’re not as old as you think you are.”

“But I’m not as young as you think I am either, daughter.”

“But you’re as young as the woman you feel for,” I winked, handing him his last suitcase. “And Maria’s only fifty-five. So really, you’re making yourself younger by feeling her up like we all know you should.”

“How did I raise such a crude daughter!” He smiled, hugging me tightly and kissing me on my cheeks. I loved my dad’s hugs.

“You know just how you raised me. Call me when you land?”

“As always. I love you, my Sookie.”

“I love you too, my daddy.”

Cheesy, yes, and probably something I should have fallen out of, but it was our way and had been since I was four and we’d have to part for his work, and then mine. Seeing my dad off at two a.m. meant that the roads were crowd free, or as crowd free as Los Angeles would get, I suppose. I loved the freedom of driving on an empty open road—not that it happened that much in LA—but almost was just as good.

I made a mental list of things that I had to do the next day, and then it would be Monday soon, and we’d start shooting. The week after, Never Look Back would be aired (finally) and things would hopefully pick up steam from there. I realized that if Eric and I were getting cast again next to each other based on the buzz of Never then maybe the critics weren’t lying when they loved it. Or maybe the tweets were sincere in that they liked what they saw and loved the plot, and the chemistry more importantly? It was the one thing you couldn’t fake, and it seemed Eric and I had it in spades. I knew the pilot would be a breeze. As a person, Eric could be prickly when he wanted to be, but as an actor when he was on his game? He was pretty much flawless when he got the chance. It’s what I noticed before I cast him for Ryan, and it’s what I felt in that read through. He really goes all in to a character. I kind of envied that about him. My dad always warned me though, there are dangers of getting in too deep into a character’s head. You lose that line where you end and the creation of them begins. I’d hate to see that happen to Eric. He was far too talented for such an easy mistake.

The next day as I was collecting my dry cleaning and my takeout lunch from 3rd, I was set upon by the paparazzi again. I hated that feeling when they would sneak up on me out of nowhere. I mean, a little warning would have been nice. I’d gotten word that Tara had in fact gotten the part as my now fictional witchy best friend slash connection to the supe world. She was ecstatic, as was I, even if she did rant on the phone for twenty minutes about how black women were forever going to be relegated into secondary roles of the ‘best friend’ to fill the token ‘black person role’ on every show. I knew better than to interrupt her when she got into one of her many rants like that. It wasn’t my place to either agree or tell her otherwise; it’s not like she’d listen anyway.

But with Eric and I, it seemed, whenever there was a camera crew and sound people (a director and producers around) he and I worked together like peanut butter and jelly—really well and with a delicious outcome.

Setting foot on the creepy location made to look like rural Louisiana with an old farm house— where Charlie’s parents would be brutally murdered when she was a child, only to come back in her twenties to find it derelict and set fire to it completely—marked the opening shot for our pilot and it sounded like it was going to be kick ass.

I’d noticed a few things in my time shooting the pilot. One, people really will kiss your ass if you’re related to someone more famous. The amount of subtle and not so subtle compliments I’d gotten just because of who my dad was, was kind of funny. Two, I somehow felt more nervous working with the other actors—the new ones that I didn’t know—than I did with Eric or Tara. In fact, working with Eric came with such ease we got most of our scenes in one or two takes. The director loved us, needless to say, and so did the crew. They got home early on our time.

It was off screen that Eric and I became less like PB&J and more like Marmite. It seemed that we were constantly sparring in one sense or another, and his incessant flirting with just about anything in a bra was a little grating. The paps decided that hanging outside our homes was their new game. And every time I drove down my driveway, there one or two of them were, asking stupid questions about me, my dad, and of course about Eric and Sandy and I, and how it was working out between the three of us. One of them was extremely close to getting his stupid fat toes ran over at one point, but I refrained because it wouldn’t have been worth it over all.

EPOV:

Protein shakes sucked. Not only did they reek—literally—but they seriously screwed with my body. Which, I guess was their intent. Working out, weight training, cutting out sugar, laying off caffeine, it all sucked, but was all necessary to get me into Viking shape. Wardrobe fittings were fun. Dawn Green the wardrobe lady—or ‘mistress’ as she preferred to be called—was a blast. Not the usual sixty-year-old seamstress poking you with pins; no, Dawn was a little younger than me, and a designer of eco-friendly clothing in LA. She did wardrobe for movies as well. I’ll admit I had fun flirting with her, but it was harmless on both our parts since she had a long-term artist boyfriend named Jason and a girlfriend on the side. Run throughs, rehearsal—all of it was a breeze, shockingly. Sookie and I worked together like we’d been doing it for years. It all felt so good, so easy and so natural in front of the cameras. Of course in front of the cameras we had direction, we had lines and cues. Sadly, life wasn’t like that.

Never Look Back had aired, repeatedly, and to a wonderful reception. More critics were raving about it as a stand alone piece of war drama, some were praising its ‘personal feel’, while others loved the direction and a few loved the acting. All in all, December wasn’t a bad month. Sookie left for Paris for Christmas with her dad, their housekeeper and her daughter, while I… well, I stayed at home and ordered takeout food and watched shitty Christmas movies on TV. Sad yes, but the alternative was parties, and parties meant paps and paps meant stupid questions and that just led me to over thinking and then to rage. No, being pathetic and alone while laughing at some over played cheese-fest was a much wiser choice. It was just after seven when my phone rang. It was Sookie.

“Merry Christmas, Eric,” she said before I’d even said hello.

“Merry Christmas. Um, isn’t it like four a.m. where you are?”

She giggled, “Yeah almost. We do this thing where we call the people who we spent the most time with over the year on Christmas to wish them Merry Christmas, and for me, that was you.”

“Well, thanks, that’s sweet.”

“Are you in the middle of dinner or something? I can call back.”

“No. No, it’s fine.”

“Seems awful quiet with you. No raging party going on? Most unlike Eric Northman.”

“No… no parties.”

“Dinner then? Did you burn your turkey?

“No, I wasn’t cooking…”

There was a beat, then she spoke again.

“Oh. Um, Eric, are you alone on Christmas?”

I didn’t answer her.

“Jesus, Eric, no one should be alone during the holidays and especially not on Christmas.”

“It’s just a day, Sookie.”

“I know that but it’s a day for friends and family and presents and stupid dinners. Not to be wasting away on your own.”

“I’m not wasting away. I have Chinese food, I have movies, I have nice, not-at-all awkward conversation with you. It’s all good.”

“What about your family?” she asked.

“Last I heard my mother was in the Hamptons and I don’t know about my dad.”

“You don’t think maybe you should call them?”

“They have my number too, you know.”

“Eric, do you have to be so goddamn stubborn about everything? Please just call them.”

“Why does it matter so much to you?”

“Because, family Eric, is important.”

“To you.”

“Fine, don’t call them. Be a loner and sit around at Christmas feeling all sorry for yourself.”

“I’m not—”

“Right, sure,” she sighed, clearly frustrated. “Look, I just don’t get what you could have done that’s so bad that you can’t pick up the phone and call your parents.”

I was silent.

“Or, did they do something to you? Is this like that kid from Home Alone where he divorced his parents?”

“No!”

“Then what! I just … fine okay, so it’s none of my business and I’m a little tipsy right now and a little tired and I’m in bed but I just wanted to wish you Merry Christmas.”

“You’re in bed, thinking about me?”

“Must you make everything sexual?”

“Since I’m imagining you in a little sexy red Mrs. Claus lingerie piece right now? I’d say, hell yeah.”

“Hate to burst your bubble but I’m in thermal pyjamas. They’re full length and have clouds on them.”

“Sexy.”

“Heat is sexy. This old farm house is fucking freezing in the winter.”

“You know if I was there with you, you wouldn’t be cold.”

She snorted.

“Yes, I would. If I recall, you are very much a blanket stealer.”

“I am not!”

“Yes you are. Big Yeti that you are, I’d freeze to death.”

“I’d never let that happen.”

“Sure, if you did you’d lose your epic and amazing and not at all sucky co-star. It would be a shame.”

“It would; a damn shame.”

“Damnit, Eric had you told me you were going to be alone… I don’t know… I’d have invited you here or something.”

“Wow, you really don’t like the idea of people being alone, do you?”

“No,” she answered quietly before she yawned. “So, what are your plans then for tonight?”

Now it was my turn to sigh. I’d already been honest with her about being the sad loser alone on Christmas, why bother lying now.

“I’m already in bed. I have snacks and some movies and I might just crash.”

I heard her ‘tut’ at me before I heard some blankets rustling. I looked at my big empty bed and wished for nothing more than to have her in it beside me.

“What about you? No French stable boys to fuck?”

“Rude, and he was a horse trainer, not a stable boy.”

“Yeah, yeah, like I give a shit.”

“And no, Talbot is … was just a fling. I told you that before. He’s actually gone home for Christmas. You know, like normal people do,” she chided.

“Yes, I get it. Can we move on now?”

“Fine.”

She was silent for a second and the tension was almost palpable.

“Do you ever think about it?”

“It?”

“The times we were together? I know you said that it wasn’t a big deal but, I kind of think it should have been a bigger deal. Or that we shouldn’t have just fucked and ran like we did.”

“Eric, we’ve talked about this.”

“Except we haven’t, not really. I think about it, how things might be if we were to be… different. To mean something different to each other. More… more than just co-workers.”

“I’m not ready.” Was all she said.

“So, you’ve thought about it then?” I asked suddenly, and though I’d never admit it, my heart started to beat that little bit faster. Why I had such a interest in Sookie I was never sure. Was it just one thing, or all things? I didn’t know. All I knew was in that tiny spark of hope came a jolt of electricity through my body.

“Of course I’ve thought about it. Our chemistry is pretty obvious, I mean Jesus, it’s so obvious that it’s even getting us jobs together. I feel those little sparks… too often around you.”

“Isn’t that a good thing?”

“I guess it could be, but I don’t want to mess this up. And I’m not ready to attempt something like that, and I don’t think you are either.”

“Even if I think I am?”

“It doesn’t matter. I’m not and I’m not jumping into something just because my hormones are all over the place where you’re concerned. I want you, I know that much, but I want you properly next time. If there is a next time.”

“And what do I have to do to make that next time happen?”

“Just… be yourself. The real you, not the you that you put on for the rest of the world. And maybe get some STI tests done. I’m not touching you otherwise, Northman.” She giggled making me smile.

“I want us to be friends, first. Let’s see how we do with that, without adding everything else into the mix?”

I thought about it for a second, and really given my reality, it didn’t sound half bad.

“I think I can do that. And hey, it’s not like I couldn’t use a real friend, right?”

“It’s something everyone could use more of, let’s try that.”

“Yes. Lets.” I smiled.

Friends. It was better than nothing I suppose.

SPOV:

Jessica picked me up from the airport, where I was yet again, met with a couple of paparazzi guys with their stupid baseball caps and idiotic questions. I’d taken to Twitter to vent my frustration and embarrassment that they caused when I was in a really public place trying to mind my business. Apparently Katy Perry agreed with me, since they’d taken a more hands on approach with her and tried to get photos up her skirt. Her husband went bat shit, not that I blamed him in the slightest. If they tried that with me they’d be getting whacked in the face, and it would be the same if a stranger on the street without a camera attempted it. It’s not right. I got into the car eventually and on the way home, I’d noticed a few magazines in the back seat. As weird as it was, when I was flicking through them I spotted the pictures of Eric and I outside the gym. It was a very strange sensation that I got when I saw those photos. I knew the paps were there because I saw them that day, but seeing the photos of the conversation that Eric and I were having? Still, so very odd.

” ‘New Hollywood IT couple Susanna Stackhouse and Eric Northman visit a West Hollywood gym together. Looking sporty and flirtatious, the two have been linked several times over the last six months from rumours of an on-set affair to confirmation that the pair are new next door neighbors. It looks like things are just heating up for this keep fit pair.’ What a load of shit!”

“There’s more, too. Pictures of you guys at lunch and coming out of that meeting last month, these guys know everything.”

“Yeah, but Jessica, it’s not true. I mean you know that, right? He’s a friend, a co-worker… that’s it.”

“Who you happen to have had sex with and have all this amazing sexual chemistry, and eye fuck like crazy. Sure, that’s all.”

“Hey, when did you get so potty mouthed?”

She blushed.

“I just think… it’s silly. He likes you, you like him, obviously, or you two wouldn’t have had sex, right? I don’t get why you just won’t admit it and try and be together.”

“Jess, this thing with Eric, it’s not that simple, okay? He has a ton of baggage…”

“Sandy?” She rolled her eyes to the heavens mentioning her. I knew Jessica, like Hoyt, wasn’t overly fond of Sandy Brown.

“Amongst other things, and to be honest, I have my own shit to deal with. And now we’re working together again… I don’t do actors, especially actors I’m working with. It’s too messy and there’s too much room for error.”

“You can’t help who you fall in love with, Sookie.”

“I’m not in love with Eric.”

I wasn’t, was I?

No, I wasn’t. I was in many things with Eric—lust, like, annoyance, frustration, lust again—but love? You earned love, didn’t you? And I was sure I hadn’t earned his love either at this point. By the time I’d gotten home, showered and changed, I knew I had to talk to Eric in person. And since I had his Christmas present, it was the perfect excuse I needed. I took Christmas very seriously. I loved the whole season. Shopping, wrapping, unwrapping—it was all too much fun. I’d simply picked up some of my dad’s wine from the cellar and some cheesy French tourist souvenirs as a joke. I didn’t really know what Eric was into besides easy women and wine, and not in that order most of the time.

“Hello?” I said poking my nose around his backyard, in the hopes of finding either him or Hoyt.

I found him asleep on a sun chair. I slipped off my flip-flop and dipped my toe in his pool, kicking small drops of water towards him. He woke up then, confused at first but then he saw me.

“Hello, Friend,” he said, taking off his shades and squinting in the sun.

“Hello friend to you, too. So I take it you’re okay with that label, then?”

“More than okay. As you said, I was alone and weird on Christmas. It was sad and why was it sad?”

“Because you had no friends around?”

“Exactly. LA, you can find friends everywhere if you’re an actor… but real friends? Ones you can trust to be honest with you…”

“Like to tell you you’re being a pathetic mess on Christmas?”

“Yes. Those are hard to come by. So, that label, on us? I can deal with it.”

I looked at him then, ripped and glistening lounging on that chair and I wanted to slap myself. I also wanted to jump him, repeatedly, but I didn’t. I couldn’t. He needed a lot of things right then, and most importantly he needed a friend. I was more than willing to be that constant in his life, and maybe he could be mine.

Just maybe.

A/N: Hi guys! Still with me? Those of you following me on Twitter probably know that I’ve been struggling with the story a little bit recently, with it’s direction mostly. So if it feels a little ‘all over the place’ that’s probably why. I’m trying my best to fix it though and it make it still an enjoyable read for you guys and fun for me to write… it’s not not flowing as easily as my other stories have in the past, so with this chapter I hoped to clear some things up for you all in just where E/S are at in their relationship with each other. I had a few people ask if this was in fact a E/S story, which, of course it is, but they just aren’t a conventional couple that’s all and of course they aren’t fucking each other’s brains out on every second page. Sorry if that’s what’s expected, these two just don’t seem to want to fall into that little cookie cutter mould just yet ;_)

Sorry to ramble on, hit me up in the reviews with your thoughts it always means a lot! xox


Chapter 20: Chapter 20


SPOV:

“But why would he do that, it makes no sense! She doesn’t even trust him at this point!” I gestured wildly pacing Eric’s living room, glass of wine in hand, script in the other.

“True, but he’s helping her, he likes her, he’s so confused as to even why he likes her at this point too…”

“Why?

“She’s being a total bitch to him and here he is just trying to help her out.”

“He’s a vampire? Hi, whole family eaten by his race, she’s not exactly feeling chummy.”

“True, but Lucas isn’t like the rest of them.”

“He is.”

“Well, okay he is, but he’s not a douche underneath it all, and he does want to help her. So that’s why I think he’s following her like he is.”

“To help? And not to come across as an un-dead stalker? Mmmkay, Eric.”

“He saves her ass at the end of the episode though.”

I shrugged.

“Ungrateful.” He muttered

“Oh, please, she could have so kicked that vampires ass if you hadn’t shown up all tall and distracting!”

“Right sure, face it Sookie, Lucas is Charlie’s hero.”

“Excuse me while I gag.” I said biting into my pizza and flicking to the next page.

He just giggled. “I’m just fucking with you. Charlie is his hero though…”

“How the hell do you figure that one out?”

“She’s giving him the will to live again, to come out of his dank dark existence of misery and self pity where he’s been wallowing for what? Fifty years? It’s an awesome thing for Lucas. And it’s why the show got picked up because they’re cool characters and it’s a cool show. So there.”

“Well thank you Mr Facts R Us. More pizza?”

This is what we did, every Thursday we did this for almost three months. We met at one of our places, his or mine – usually we alternated, why? I don’t know, but we did, and we rehearsed, and we read, and we ran lines, and we argued. Just like this, every week, and I loved it.

“I think Tara hates me.” Eric said, kicking back on his couch again, script in hand.

“Why?”

“On the read through the other day, she was giving me evils across the table. I have no idea what I did to her? I didn’t fuck her and never call again, did I?”

I laughed, “You’re so classy, really. And no, I don’t think you did, I’d never have heard the end of her bitching if you had. And also, is this why you’re Cedar’s best patient when it comes to STI tests? How many of those do you get a year?” I mocked him.

“Hey don’t laugh, they’re important things.”

“Of course they are, when, like you – you’re fucking anything with a bikini wax of course they’re important…”

He just rolled his eyes at me, flicking an olive at me.

“You’re disgusting, and I hate olives, even their presence near my half of the pizza offends me.” I stuck my nose in the air jokingly, he just threw another one.

“You just order them to pelt me with!”

“Maybe.” He dragged out with a stupid grin on his face, “Okay, scene six, are we on location?”

“I think we might be, it’s her old farm house – well, the ruins of it at least. Unless they’re building the remains inside, I’m not sure.”

He noted something in the margin and we carried on, comfortable and easy like we’d been doing for weeks. Work had been going insanely well, we had a relatively small cast, mostly of unknowns, lots of extras some days, sometimes it was days of shooting with just three people. I liked it, I liked how intimate it felt, and I liked while everyone had their own angle on the show, it all fit over all within the one story that we were telling and it felt great to be such a big part of that. We’d managed to miss the deadline for awards season as far as Never Look Back was concerned but I was assured we were a sure thing for the year after. Honestly, it didn’t really matter that much to me, but if it meant the cast or the crew got some recognition for all their amazing work, then I’d be more than happy to borrow a ridiculously over expensive gown, get myself pampered and answer a lot of questions about not very important things in the world before going inside and seeing how we did, but that was a year away – if we even got nominated come the time. I knew I had a lot of things to do between now and then, both personally and professionally. We shot six days a week, several episodes at a time in any one week we could be doing things from episode two, or six or seven. Our backers and executives and writers all felt it was fitting to shoot a twenty one episode season, meaning that if and when we got the green light for a second season – which everyone oddly felt confident about, we’d be more than ready and we’d be well ahead of ourselves. I liked the idea and I hated the idea, but it also meant that we’d have six months free when we got finished and have two seasons in the bag and long break. It was a win, win, but it was also a shit load of work.

Eric seemed to thrive on the idea though, he was focused and daring and signing on to more and more independently produced films, something that I was happy about for him, indie roles while usually less praised in certain circles, but sometimes held the best characters you could fall into and with the best writing to boot. I wasn’t signing on to too many things, mainly because most of the things I was being offered weren’t what I felt I could either do justice, or conflicted with the Fallen schedule. Pam was pushing me though to ‘strike while the iron was hot’ but I wasn’t so much interested in the heat of the iron as I was the feeling behind the project. I loved my job, I truly did, but I also had other needs in life, and needing to be working twenty four hours a day wasn’t one of them.

I’d seen Jessica and Hoyt’s relationship grow and evolve in the time that I’d known them both, non-virginal Jessica was a shock. It seems that inside that sweet shy girl was just this sex manic waiting to be let loose, Eric thought it was hilarious of course, and Hoyt was just loving getting laid so often, I on the other hand wasn’t so much. It was a painful and daily reminder that I was in fact, alone. Alone, by my own choosing too, which made it so much worse. I may or may not have spent that Valentines day in bed feeling sorry for my stupid single and alone self, before Eric decided that he’d had enough of my bitching and dragged me to see some stupid horror movie that was both ridiculous and predicable. It was a gesture I appreciated though since Eric didn’t believe in being told by Hallmark when he should and shouldn’t be cheesy and romantic. I understood his standpoint, it was rather ridiculous in it’s entirety. Of course the paparazzi found us coming out of the movies, no doubt having been tipped off by one of our fellow movie goers, it sucked big time because well, I looked like shit and Eric was nursing a ‘one too many beers with the boys’ hangover. A swift exit was made, but it didn’t stop Pam’s eyebrow from raising in my direction about just what ‘exactly’ was going on with him. She didn’t buy that we were just friends, in fact, no one seemed to. It annoyed the fuck out of me that everyone just kept on assuming we were fucking each other just because we liked to spend time together. Sure, we liked to go out for a drink – but it was always with Jess and Hoyt and Godric and his girl of the month, or Tara and her new boyfriend Benedict… of course when I thought about how it must look from the outside, it made that assumption a little easier to understand. We were just having fun being friends and keeping everything under the complicated radar, but to the outside world it undeniably looked like we were dating.

Shit.

That little detail also helped explain why I was never getting hit on when we’d go out to bars together, of course no guy was willing to come over and try it on with me when I’m sitting next to the person everyone perceived to be my boyfriend.

I was going to be single forever if that kept up.

It wasn’t so much that I wanted a relationship I knew I was still too … all over the place after Alcide to even contemplate starting fresh with someone seriously at in that moment, but I was lonely at times and will admit there were aspects of an intimate relationship that I missed. Sex being one of them, and not just stupid one night stand sex, but real ‘ I know your body like the back of my hand – sex’ where you felt comfortable and real and raw and unafraid to just let go. I missed that. What didn’t help in this matter was Eric, through no real fault of his own – minus his shameless flirting but that was to be expected, he just liked to flirt – with everyone. It was everything else that was proving a little difficult for me, how he looked how he smelled how many make out scenes we had either scheduled or in rehearsal. It was in a sense, close, but no cigar – I knew what he felt like my body knew what his body felt like, and that not so small craving to feel how good it all felt before? Well it was sometimes overwhelming and every time the director yelled cut I was left with a very annoying case of metaphorical blue balls. It was that I’d noticed the change in Eric. The Eric that I knew was always THE Eric. He was always that sweet, kind, goofy guy who happened to be talented and beautiful and funny, he just also happened to have those dark places in him that we all had, and in those dark moments of our lives we’d retreat to those dark places… his were just more accessible and obvious than others, his finger ready and waiting by his self-destruct button at all times. It was a worry I suppose that he’d one day fall into that place and not come back out, but it was a worry everyone had at least once, right? I mean, I knew that Eric and I accepted him for what he was, just like I hoped he accepted me for being able to make him laugh one minute and make him want to strangle me the next, we were just people, flawed and fucked up but doing the best we could with what we knew how to do. Though it seems his good intentions paved the way to his own personal hell, our friendship was conflicted, in many ways we were old friends, in many ways we were former lovers, in many ways we were new friends getting to know the other again.

I did mention that this was confusing, right?

EPOV:

Everything felt different, it felt good, better somehow when she was around. I could never put my finger on why, but, I didn’t dig too deeply into trying to find the answer either if I’m honest, mostly in the fear that I’d find other things I wasn’t looking for in the process.

No, things were good and for once I was just going to let them be good.

Sookie fell into my tiny circle of friends rather easily. Godric adored her, annoying little tattooed rocker that he was, he loved this bubbly blonde and her humour and the fact that she teased him about being just as small as she was from time to time. Hoyt obviously adored her, and Jessica, well technically Jessica was Sookie’s friend first and since Lafayette was back in Los Angeles and on the job hunt again so everyone saw more of him a lot more often too. Small circle of friends was, small, but it was also nice. There were a few other casual acquaintances for example, Tara, who hated me for reasons unknown, but I paid that little mind since a few of the other cast members had become fast friends with everyone as well Terry and Arlene played small but critical parts in Fallen and they were also a couple in real life, they were both from the south and helped Sookie when even her dialect coach couldn’t get her tongue around those rollin’ R’s and with her ya’lls and her yanderin’ that she had to do.

I was feeling more positive than I’d felt in a long time. Work was good, personal life was drama free and even the paparazzi guys seemed to be nicer to me. Though I did suspect that a few agencies had a few run ins with Sookie on her own. She knew some of them to see and was always nice, not chatty or conversational about it, but she was sweet – overly sweet, but they bought it and in a weird way they listened to her, bastards never listened to me.

“So, I’m thinking of getting a dog.” Sookie said, mouthful of salad as we sat at lunch at craft service.

“Really? What kind?”

“I don’t know, something kind of big I don’t dig toy dogs and besides you know I’m a woman who lives alone in a city I could use a dog.”

“Yeah you also live in a gated community with a security guard and a Viking next door.”

“You think sooo highly of yourself don’t you, you’re special.” she smiled.

“Damn right I am, and I’m ignoring the sarcasm in your tone there and just accepting the fact that you just can’t help but adore me, really it’s to be expected.”

“Any-way.” She said, rolling her eyes, “I was going to check out the animal shelter at the weekend, if you wanted you could come?”

“Oh. I can’t.”

“Why? Hot date?”

“Uh, actually, yeah? Well I mean it’s not really a date it’s more of a blind date, she’s a friend of Godric’s.”

She snorted.

“What?” I asked.

“Um, are we forgetting that concert we went to last month, we’ve met Godric’s friends, are you sure this blind date is a good idea? Oh please tell me it’s Tilly.”

Tilly was a transgender female friend of Godric’s, she was almost as tall as me.

“It’s not Tilly, smart ass. Her name is Yvetta, she’s from the Ukraine or something I don’t know.”

“Is she here post op or pre?”

I flicked a pea in her direction which she dodged. Sookie had good reflexes.

“I don’t know okay, he suggested it and thinks I’m being too much of a hermit lately so… I sort of agreed.” I shrugged and she nodded sipping her drink.

“No, I mean I think it’s probably a good thing for you, I mean after that whole revolting mess with Sandy and how she used you like that? Ick.” she shuddered, “personally I’d be crawling into bed feeling like shit for that, but it’s good to get back out there.”

“And what about you? Have you, got back out there?”

Thinking about her fucking another guy wasn’t exactly high on my list of things to do, but if we were going to give this friends thing an honest shot then I guess it was just something I’d have to learn to accept.

She chewed her food before answering me, “No. I’ve been too busy for that shit, and honestly its’ just not something I think I’d be able to handle right now anyway.” She looked at me, dead in the eye and I wondered if she meant a ‘handling’ between she and I? I knew it wasn’t off the table completely, but she’d gone through the ringer with her other relationship with a guy who from all accounts was amazing and wonderful and helpful to her, she loved him, he loved her, but marriage was the deal breaker. That had to suck. It probably didn’t help that I was her rebound guy in a sense, as much as I hated to admit it, that’s probably what I was to her. The sex had been spectacular, but ultimately if it meant little to her it tarnished it’s meaning to me too just a little.

“Who say you have to go into a fully blown relationship right away? I mean, we could all use a little uncomplicated fun every now and then.”

“I agree, but I think we both know that sex just complicates everything – even when you swear it won’t, it always does.”

“I guess.”

She nodded. “Anyway, what are your plans for our lovely month long break?”

“Sleep. Sleep is good.”

“I’m glad you’re finally seeing that.” she laughed shovelling more pasta into her mouth.

“You?” I asked.

She shrugged, “It’s my dad’s birthday soon, so I have to get him something and go over there, there’s a small party every year, this year though, he’s sixty so according to Maria it has to count. She’s invited the entirety of his little black book – which isn’t such a little book. He’ll hate it, he hates attention when he’s solo and it’s not a work thing, but sixty is a big one.”

“A really big one. That’s cool though.”

She smiled.

I simply hit ‘ignore’ on my buzzing phone for the sixth time that afternoon, she noticed but didn’t say anything.

“You should come.”

“To… Paris?”

“Yeah and to the party, Maria likes to plan, so it’s a weekend thing, and I mean I’m going to be there anyway for a couple of weeks, you could come… get out of LA for a bit, drown in my dad’s wine? It could be fun?”

“Hmm, I haven’t been to Paris in years.”

“Well then, perfect opportunity, no?”

I smiled, the idea of getting away from LA was so appealing to me at that point.

“It’s still chilly there, so pack warm clothes, I know Los Angeles is a time warp of no seasons but Paris will remind you what a crisp Spring should be, and not this.” she gestured to the burning hot sun beating down on us as we sat outside to eat.

A week and a half later I hit the airport, where six paparazzi caught me going into the international departures.

“Eric! Off anywhere nice? Where’s Sookie, are you off to join her?”

“Eric! What about Sandy are you two really done this time? Have you seen her lately? Do you keep in touch?”

I sighed, keeping my cool as best I could, as I politely pushed past them and made my way into the airport, thanking Hoyt for taking me and helping me as fast as he did. He was heading back home then back to the airport that evening with Jess. She was popping home to see her family, and as it happens Hoyt was being dragged along too. He was scared shit-less to be honest he wasn’t one for serious girlfriends before he met Jessica, but she didn’t so much ‘change’ him as she did made him realise what he was looking for.

I checked in my bags and made my way to wait for my flight, I emailed Sookie the times at which I was due to arrive. I didn’t expect a reply because of the time difference but I got one almost right away,

‘Paris is waiting for you, oh, and so am I. It’s rather boring here right now, I’m sure you’ll change that? Fly safe, Sooks x ‘

I smiled as I saved it, then navigated my way to find a seat to enjoy my coffee as I waited out my time to depart, the next call I got was from the person I’d been ignoring for three weeks solid. I had been so tempted to permanently block her number, but something kept me from doing it. I hit the ‘ignore’ button again only for the phone to ring again, this time it was Bill.

I just wasn’t allowed to enjoy my coffee in peace.

“What?” I snapped.

“Where are you going?”

“I’m… going out of town for a few days, that’s all.”

“Vegas?”

“No.”

“Why won’t you tell me? I need to know these things.”

“This, you don’t need to know, Bill. What do you want?”

“Have you talked to Sandy lately?”

“No. Why would I?”

“Eric she hasn’t taken this breakup very well.”

“Bill, it wasn’t a break-up … the relationship was never real for the break-up to be real, you of all people should know that, and don’t think I forgive you for going behind my back like you did you little serpent.”

He simply laughed, as if it was a joke. I let it go, in the middle of an airport wasn’t really the place to start a war over the phone.

“But seriously Eric, talk to her at least, for my sake if not yours she won’t stop calling me to make me call you to make you call her. Just end the misery and call the girl. She says It’s important.”

“It always is with her, I’m not dealing with her anymore I told you that, and I told her that okay? So let’s all just move on.”

“Like you’ve moved on with Sookie?”

“That’s none of your business, Bill.”

“On the contrary, it’s very much my business, I am your personal relations person after all, your personal relationships’ are entirely my business. I just don’t understand why you two won’t market this, it’s proven you two together is dynamite for the critics and the fans fucking love her … it’s a win, win.”

He was so full of shit it was really unreal.

“None of your or anyone else’s business, either.” I repeated and he simply sighed.

“You can’t keep her to yourself forever Eric, I’ve called her PR and I know what projects she’s got lined up, they’re few and far between but they’re all very big deals with very big names attached. So, just who else is she fucking besides you to get these parts.”

“That’s enough.”

“Come on, it’s just a joke.”

“I said, that’s enough. So, if you’re through here I have a flight to catch.”

“To where?”

I simply hit the end on the call and slide my phone back into my jeans. I hated him, weasel of a man he was, slimy too and he just had this look in his eyes… everyone was simply a dollar sign to him. I really needed a better rep for my rep than him.

I contemplated calling her, if only to make sure she knew to stop calling me. I was tired of it, her and her drama had long worn out it’s welcome. Before when I thought it was real and when I thought that it was all I really wanted or deserved in a girl – yeah then I was willing to put up with it. But since then I knew there were women who weren’t half as bat shit and twice as amazing willing to be there for me, and to let me be there for them, I didn’t have to deal with her shit no matter how many times she told me that I’d never find anyone better. The truth was I had found someone else, and she wasn’t better she wasn’t worse she was just in a totally different league, and it made me feel like I was in that league with her when we’d be together. I felt a number of things for her, and she made me feel so many things as well both good and bad, but mostly good. And yet we were just friends. There were no sexual benefits to this relationship – sometimes as hard as that was to accept, and believe me there were times when it was very, hard – pun intended. I wanted her as much as I ever had, but it was part of that ‘different league’ of thought when I was around her. Somehow I was very much ‘dick off’ ‘brain on’ around Sookie Stackhouse. It was kind of amazing to me that I was even capable of that school of thought around such a beautiful woman, but for once there I was being a mature one.

Wonders would never cease I thought as I emailed her back, ‘Good thing Paris is waiting, LA is being a whore, see you when I land – wear something French. ; )’

Yes I used cheesy smiley faces, so sue me.

Sandy called again, and again, and twice more after that before I just gave up and turned my phone off. Whatever drama she was cooking could just wait till I got back.

Paris, and more importantly, Sookie was waiting for me.

A/N: Hey guys surprise post. This was meant to wait until tomo my time but in case I don’t get on in the morning I’m posting now! What do we think? Is it too smushy … we know I don’t do smushy for very long now do I? *looks innocent* Reviews are encouraged as always! And as always, thank you for the love, tis just a tiiiiny bit awesome! xox


Chapter 21: Chapter 21


EPOV:

The flight to Paris was decidedly uneventful. I was seated next to a lovely woman in her fifties who told me that her daughter was a big fan. I signed autographs for her and made small chitchat for a while before pulling out my scripts, putting in my headphones and drowning out the world. Sleep came thick and fast and thankfully when we landed it was just after eight a.m. I turned my phone on to discover six more missed calls from Sandy, but no voicemail. I figured I’d count my blessings while I had them and just switched the damn thing off again.

I walked through the airport—already so unlike LA—no one noticed, no one cared, and there were no fat guys with cameras asking stupid questions. It was awesome.

Then I saw Sookie standing amongst a group of people, waiting for me. She was in a black dress and black tights with a little red beret perched on top of her head. She was even holding a sign in her fancy swirled writing: The dashing and late, Lucas Lott.

“Very cute.” I nodded to her very French hat.

She giggled, “I figured it was a little too chilly to be showing up at the airport in just lingerie, so the beret would have to do.”

“Damn. I would have preferred the lingerie.”

“What? You mean my jaunty hat isn’t visually pleasing to you? I am stunned.” She took off the hat and stuck her sun glasses in its place. We engaged in a rather awkward hug. Not only was her height an issue but it was just ill timed, and we ended up knocking her head against my chin.

“Let’s not do that again.” She smiled, “Amelia is waiting at baggage claim for us. You’ll love her, really.”

I inhaled. I admit I was nervous, which didn’t happen often.

“Relax, Eric. She’s a sweetheart, I promise.”

“Really?”

“No. She can be a bitch, but you’re good people, we like you. She’ll be fine.” She laughed as we walked to baggage claim where a tall curly haired brunette was standing hand on hip, dressed all in black from head to toe, looking not at all amused.

“People in airports are so fucking rude,” she said in lieu if a hello.

“They are,” Sookie agreed. “Ames, this is Eric, Eric this is Amelia Broadway. She’s Maria’s daughter and my sister in everything but name.”

Amelia stuck out her hand and I shook it while we exchanged pleasantries. Sookie was driving and she was in a very chatty mood despite how early it was. The fact that there was a giant coffee in her cup holder told me the reason why she was so chatty.

“Are you hungry? Do you want to stop and get something? I mean, Maria is making a big breakfast and we’ll be there in an hour, but if you’re hungry now we could stop?”

“Nah, I’m good.”

“Sure?”

“Yeah. I ate on the plane and slept too, so I’m good. I mean, plane sleep sucks but it’s not so bad.”

“Oh, good.”

“So, Eric I’ve heard you’re kind of a fuck up in the relationship department. Do tell,” Amelia said, earning her a slap on the knee from Sookie.

“Ames? Jesus.”

“What? You said—”

“I didn’t say fuck up,” she said, looking at me in her rear view mirror. “I said, complicated.”

Amelia smirked, “Okay, ‘complicated.’ What’s up with that?”

“It’s none of your business, practical stranger,” I said. She smiled at me and Sookie just laughed.

“Good answer, Eric. It should be the answer to all her no doubt prying questions from now on.”

“Sassy. He’s sassy, Sookie. I like that. Are you allergic to anything?” she asked then, out of the blue.

“Um, besides blueberries and bullshit, nothing.”

She smiled again.

“Great. I’ll let mom know. That woman loves to cook. It’s a wonder Sookie and I don’t weigh a ton by now.”

“Oh, don’t you know a size four is fat? Yeah, we’re total tubs in LA.”

“Fuck LA and it’s non-seasonal plastic bullshit,” she commented, sipping her coffee with purpose.

“That’s what I said. Sadly, it’s my place of employment so I have to play the game.”

“You mean dropping two unnecessary dress sizes for those assholes? Mom almost had a fit when she saw you.”

Amelia, I noticed, had a very French accent, but it was peppered with America lingo and a little bit of an English lilt, too. It was a clusterfuck of an accent but somehow it suited her. She seemed to be all over the place in her personality as well as her accent.

By the time we arrived at her father’s estate, I was less nervous but still more nervous than I should have been. I didn’t know why I was, I just was. I mean, I knew her dad liked me and I knew Sookie would be there, but it just all felt very ‘bringing you home to meet the parents’ suddenly, and that freaked me out. No girl ever wanted me to spend time with their family. Well, I mean besides Sandy. My only other long term relationship was with a girl named Crystal—she was an extra from Texas, working on finding modeling jobs. She didn’t speak to her family, and weirdly enough Sandy was rather detached from hers as well. I never made that connection before that moment.

Weird.

Sookie wasn’t like them though. That much was obvious in so many ways.

The estate was large; the grounds seemed to go on forever. I noticed there were stables to the left and a large manicured garden to the right. The house itself was old—old stone work and really well restored design from around the eighteenth century. Yes, I might have been a bit nerdy when it came to old buildings. I just loved the look and the feel of history they gave you. Of course, you found nothing like that in LA.

“Down, Sammy, DOWN!” she yelled, yanking the rather large black Labrador off me as he jumped up, sniffing and excited to see who this new person was.

“I’m sorry, he doesn’t meet many new people. We’re just so used to the mutt,” Amelia said, shaking off her coat and walking on into the house.

“So, this is my … this is where I grew up,” Sookie said, gesturing to our surroundings.

I looked around. It was decorated in a style that suited the house and the period in which it was built. It was a grand house but it was also a home. It felt like a home—lived in, comfortable and welcoming. Which I’m sure had nothing to do with the amazing smells coming from the kitchen.

“I see that. It’s very nice.”

She just rolled her eyes at the dog who wouldn’t listen to her as he continued to sniff at me. “Hungry now?”

I nodded, and she told me to dump my bags and follow her. When I followed her, I was led into a large county kitchen, the source of all the amazing smells.

There was a woman standing over a big range stove stirring something. She was taller than Sookie, and had the same curly hair as Amelia.

“Oh! This must be Eric!” she said in a upbeat tone, her accent giving her away straight away. “I’m Maria, it’s so nice to finally meet you! My aren’t you a tall one! Sookie, isn’t he tall?”

“Yeah, he’s tall.” She rolled her eyes, smiling.

“Coffee?” Sookie motioned, holding up the jar. I nodded.

“So, Eric tell me about yourself?” Maria asked in a very motherly like manner, wiping her hands on her dish cloth and sitting at the giant kitchen island that surrounded half the room.

Why did I suddenly feel that sickening nervous feeling again?

“Um, well, I’m an actor… and I live in LA though I’m from Sweden. I…” She nodded for me to continue, but Sookie merely stepped in to save me, again.

“Can we give Eric the third degree later? Can’t we at least feed him first?” she said, putting down a plate of various breakfast meats in front of me, as well as French toast, and pancakes and regular toast. God, I was suddenly starving.

“Thank you, this looks amazing!”

Maria smiled, then it faltered.

“I’m sorry, Eric,” Maria said. “How rude of me to put you on the spot like this, when we have all week to get to know each other! And we’ve so much to do with the party and everyone coming here for dinner the night before. I don’t know why I go through this, all this planning!” She spoke a mile a minute, her accent buzzing beautifully through her words.

“You love planning Ma’ma you know that. It’s what you live for,” Amelia commented before kissing her mother on the forehead.

“Eric, you must eat and get settled. Sookie, you’ll show him to his room, yes?”

“Oh, I was just going to stay in a hotel. It’s not far. I mean, I have it booked and ever—”

“Nonsense!” Came the reply from all three women at once. Then they laughed when they realized it sounded hilarious. I almost choked on my toast.

“Well this is a nice surprise. Thank God you’re here, Eric. I’ve been sorely outnumbered for years,” came the voice behind me. It was Earl, looking a lot younger than his sixty years in a polo shirt and cream trousers, his hair gently combed off his face that was now a little more tan than the last time I’d seen him.

“Earl, it’s so good to see you, and thank you again for having me here. It’s an amazing place from what I’ve seen so far.”

He shook my hand and pulled me into a hug. “You look good boy, and you’re welcome. Be sure and have Sookie give you the tour after breakfast if you’re up for it.”

“Oh, I’m sure Eric’s more than up for it.” Amelia smirked and Sookie just gave her the evil eye.

“Good morning, Amelia,” Earl said, kissing her on the forehead. “When did you get in?”

“Last night. I took the train from London late, and I didn’t want to wake anyone when I got in. That dog is so stupid. By the way, he sucks as a guard dog.”

“Of course he does. He’s a big ole pet. Morning, Sookie,” her dad said, kissing her on the forehead before he greeted Maria with a warm smile and a discreet rub on her back. “This smells amazing as usual. You outdo yourself, Maria.”

“We’ve tried the healthy route. The only thing that stuck was the fruit,” Maria commented as we all sat down to eat, and I was struck again by the oddness of the moment. It felt… good. It felt like family.

I never realized really until that moment what I was missing. I never had this; I never had family breakfasts or inside jokes or a morning routine with my family. When I was younger, my dad was always busy working—he was a banker before I started acting. He hated it but it was in a sense ‘the family business’ that I was expected to fall into when I got older as well. Only I didn’t, and he had never approved of my mother’s mission to get me to Hollywood. Of course, as soon as she got me there, she left me there. He had very little to do with my career as a kid and in that sense very little to do with me at all. The fact that I knew he disapproved like he did broke my heart then, and it still got to me now, and it’s what ultimately broke my parents’ marriage apart.

As I sat and watched their comfort—their intimacy of knowing each other so well—I felt my heart ache again, and I was instantly that fourteen-year-old kid whose parents didn’t love each other anymore and whose dad I’d not see again for a really long time. When my parents divorced, my mother moved us to California permanently and pushed me as far as she could with the acting thing. I didn’t see my dad again until I turned twenty, and that was only out of obligation for my grandmother’s funeral in Sweden. I hadn’t seen or heard from him since. It was why things with family just didn’t exist for me. As much as I now realized I wanted them to exist so badly, I knew that if I ever had kids I’d never force them into this business, nor would I abandon them like I had been, never.

“You were awfully quiet at breakfast. Are you tired?”

“A little, but that’s not why.”

“Then, why?” Sookie asked as we climbed their old, very long staircase to the top of the third floor. Sookie’s room was across the hall from ‘my room’ and everyone else slept on either the second or fourth floor. It was a huge house.

“I just … kinda envy you.”

“God, why?”

She pushed the door open to a large room with an antique four poster oak bed, all immaculately made, with a view of the rose gardens from all three windows. It was beautiful.

“Wow, this place is like a hotel.”

“Hardly. Maria is just very house proud,” she commented, leaving one of my lighter bags on the bed.

“Why do you envy me?” she asked again with a raised eyebrow.

“That whole family dynamic thing, I never had it. It’s real nice.”

“Is that why you don’t—”

“Yeah. It was complicated then, and time has just… made it worse I guess? I don’t know.”

“I’m sorry, Eric,” she said, tilting her head and looking as sympathetic as I’ve ever seen her.

“Don’t pity me, okay?” I said, sharper than I intended.

“I don’t,” she answered just as sharply. “I was just trying to be … understanding, that’s all. Forget it.”

“No—” I stopped her from leaving by grabbing her arm and swinging her back towards me, “I’m sorry, it’s just a really… touchy subject. I’m not used to talking about it.”

“It’s fine. I’m not going to force you into anything here, and besides, it’s nap time.”

“Nap time? It’s like, noon.”

“I know, but your jet lag will creep up on you, and I didn’t sleep very well last night, and we have like twenty people coming for dinner tonight, so I have a shit ton of work to do to help later, and just ugh… I need a nap,” she sighed, running her hands through her long hair and piling it on top of her head.

“Wanna nap with me?” I asked, half joking, half serious. I had recalled just how good she felt in my arms, how she smelled, and how safe I felt then, even if it was just for a few hours.

She bit her lip and for a split second I saw it, she had considered it. Instead, she just rolled her eyes and patted me on the shoulder.

“Not on your life, Viking. Go to sleep. The remote for the shutters is in the drawer.” She motioned to the table beside the bed before leaving the room and me to my own devices.

SPOV:

I was nervous having Eric in my home. I didn’t know why completely, but it felt almost as if he was seeing the real me for the first time. There was no hiding who I was in this house since it was where I was raised and where the majority of my memories lived. I knew my dad liked Eric. I think it was because he saw just how similar they both were. It was almost comical at times just how alike they were—though I tried to not to think about that too much.

He seemed curious about the place as we walked around the grounds. We seemed to have napped well into the evening and decided to take the tour then.

“My dad is obsessed with horses. He loves them, he yammers on and on about how noble and amazing they are,” I noted as he smiled, petting Paddy, my dad’s favourite stud.

“My dad was … is the same. He used to own a horse farm. It was his thing.”

“Ah, that makes more sense to me now. My dad said that he really liked your dad. That they had ‘a lot in common.’

“Horses, two crazy ex-wives, and two annoying kids who liked to act?”

“Pretty much,” I agreed.

“So, Sookie do I get to see your bedroom?”

“No.”

“Aww come on. Does it have New Kids on the Block posters and stuff?”

I closed my eyes, shaking my head. “No, I was never a New Kids fan anyway.”

He just laughed at me. It was nice to see him so relaxed. He looked even younger when he didn’t have his perpetual scowl working for him.

“You know, you’re weird in Paris,” he said.

“I am? As opposed to how weird I’m not, in LA? Have we met?”

“I mean, you look… and act… more relaxed or something.”

“You know what’s funny?”

“What?”

“I was just thinking the same thing about you,” I said, walking faster into the house again.

Friday night was family dinner night. It was always family dinner night growing up, much to the chagrin of Amelia and I once we hit our later teens, but it was a tradition that we’d always upheld. We cooked instead, giving Maria a night off, and it was usually something dumb and simple like homemade pizza or a simple pasta dish. Though, as we got older, our cooking skills thankfully improved. Amelia was much better than me, and I had no qualms in admitting that. She’d spent a semester in Italy and fell for a outspoken Italian, who along with his passion for Amelia held a passion for cooking. She learned more than enough from him. This dinner though, was a little out of the ordinary since the people from my dad’s ‘little black book’ of co-workers had arrived. Some were staying in the main house, others in the guest house, and some in hotels. The party was going to be on the grounds in a giant marquee that was being built just for the occasion. There were hundreds of people invited, all of whom my father had either worked with or for over his years in the business. It was a testament to him when I saw some of the names that had RSVP’d and were willing to fly out to Paris just for him. He wouldn’t say it, but he was touched. As much as he loathed the attention, he was looking forward to it just a smidgen. I knew Eric knew how to schmooze with the best of them, so I didn’t feel so bad leaving him in the lion’s den when the topic of conversation turned to both he and I, and working together again.

“Is it difficult, Sookie? Falling back in line after so long?” one of them asked, though she should know better herself. Even though her ‘career break’ really meant ‘a long stint in rehab’ she came out the other end as mother earth incarnate.

“No. I thought it would be harder I guess, but I have Eric, and for some unknown reason when we’re on screen together it just seems to work. Thank God.”

“And, Eric, the last I heard about you, weren’t you going into rehab?”

Bitch.

“Um—” I tried to interject, but Eric took over, his stoic face well and truly on.

“No, I’ve never been to rehab, nor do I think I’ve ever really been so far gone that I needed it. Tell me, is it as nice as it’s made out to be? Which one did you use, again?”

My father giggled behind his napkin, then pretended to cough.

“Well, I think this topic of conversation is much too heavy for the dinner table. Let’s talk about something else, eh?”

Superficial chitchat was the order of the day. Eric and I spent the entire night exchanging looks with each other and Amelia, due to the hilarious ass-kissing nature of said superficial chatter.

“He had his hand on my thigh, Sookie. If that’s not a come on, I don’t know what is!” Eric exclaimed as we escaped to the kitchen for a breather.

“Maybe he was just being … friendly,” I giggled, filling his glass and then mine before taking a seat on the island as opposed to the chair next to him. I kicked off my heels and instantly felt comfort.

“Yeah, too fuckin’ friendly. Why do people assume I’m gay? Is it how I dress?”

“They don’t, and it’s not, since you look homeless eighty percent of the time. No self-respecting gay man would wear what you wear…”

He just raised his brow at me.

“Okay so, they do. I don’t know why really. I know you’re not gay.”

“Well, of course you do. We’ve fucked.”

“Classy.”

“Says the girl sitting on a kitchen island, in a cocktail dress, sipping wine, and eating peanut butter with her finger.”

“Thawtstootallydifferent,” I said, my finger in my mouth. “This is awesome… Want some?” I offered.

“No. I don’t have a spoon.” He shrugged and I just scooped some up on another finger, and offered it to him playfully.

“You want some? You do, admit it. It’s the good stuff, too. Crunchy.”

He just smirked.

“You want me to eat it off your finger?”

“What? You can have my lady business all up on your face but you’re afraid of a little finger? For shame, Northman.”

Before I could speak again he grabbed my hand, looked me square in the eye and stuck my index finger in his mouth, sucking the peanut butter off painfully slowly. He didn’t blink, and I could do nothing but blink as I tried to keep my hormones in check. The sensation of his hot, wet tongue brought back a few pleasant memories.

He smirked.

That bastard.

“You’re a tease, you know that?” I said, wiping my hands on a piece of kitchen paper.

“Ah, coming from you? That’s rich.”

“Oh, bite me,” I glared.

“Where?” He wriggled his brows at me again. We were dangerously close to losing that carefully constructed fence we’d built over the previous few months. I say fence rather than wall, since all we kept doing was peeking through it to look at the other side, with all the flirting and what not. It was a treacherous pastime, one that we either had to stop, or we had to chop down that fence altogether.

I just wasn’t sure which was best for either of us.

A/N: As always, dying to know what you guys think! So hit zee button please! Also, consider this the uhh, calm, before the storm ; )


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1 thought on “19-21”

  1. Northwoman said:

    Oh I’m so afraid. I’m such an angst baby. Poor Eric is finally making some progress, but he needs to dump Bill’s ass. I’m just SO worried that Sandy is going to do something like pretend she’s pregnant or something to screw everything up. Amelia was hilarious talking about the dog. I love it when Sookie says they know Eric isn’g gay because he looks homeless and no self-respecting gay man would dress like that. ROFL. I love the way they are becoming friends. I hope it isn’t so hard for them to be more.

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