OOM - Lost in a Dream - Fangtasia, closing time

[onceaviking]

The Carmilla hotel is discreetly lit, beautiful and white in the hot night.
He descends gently, coming to rest in the empty air outside of a large window. Her window.

He can see her. Dressed in white, her hair held away from her face with a headband. It makes her look like a little girl playing dress up. Lost in thought.

Sookie looks up and exclaims, "Cheese and rice!" as she sees him. But for all her surprise, she still gets off of the bed and goes to the window.
"You scared me half to death. What the hell are you doing out there?"

"Waiting for you to invite me in", he replies calmly. Ankles crossed, hands folded. Resting in the middle of empty darkness.

"Can all vampires fly?" she asks. Suitably impressed.
It always works, flying. It taps into some primal desire in humans.

"Can all humans sing?" he counters and when she replies, "Are you kidding? Couldn't carry a tune in a bucket with a lid on it," he finds himself smiling.

She's cute.

And then she says it. "Come on in."
No hesitation. Not anymore.

He swings through the window and walks past her, asking, "So, uhm, how goes the search?"
Casually. As if he doesn't really care but is merely being polite.

And there are now two things at stake here. The wolves and their master. And her.

"Turns out, he's not who I was looking for, " she stays and steps closer, tilting her head back, not like she merely has to do so to look up at him, but the way women do when they offer up their lips to you.

He looks down at her. Mesmerized.
"You smell like the ocean in winter," she says, softly. "How is that possible? Bill doesn't smell like anything."

"That's not possible," he murmurs in reply, transfixed by her lips and her eyes and the words she is saying.

"You played by the North Sea as a child," she continues, so, so quietly and he finds himself whispering, "Yes.
How did you know?"
How can she? How could anyone?
"I'm smelling your memories," she murmurs and he is, strangely, almost frightened. Because it is a memory. The sun on his back, the sand between his feet. The salt in the air.
Laughing.

"Not even you can do that," he whispers. Wide eyed. Unable to look away.

"Oh," she says, "I got skills you can't even dream of, cowboy."

And then she steps close and -

Oh, it is gloriously. Even her lips taste of honey and sunshine as he kisses her, hungrily. And she meets him with an equal hunger, as if she too has wanted it since they first saw each other. Since she was just a girl in a white dress.

And if the kissing is amazing, then the push that lands him on the bed and the way she removes her robe, revealing her lingerie, the way she moves toward him, confidently, makes him ache with need.

She mounts him and asks, "You want more?"
And somehow, it doesn't really - fit.

He can feel his brow knit and then she repeats the question. Only it isn't her voice. It's Yvetta's.

"You want more? Or I boring you? "

Yvetta. Draped on the pole in fishnets and little else. And he is on the his throne in Fangtasia. Alone.
He can feel Yvetta's pout beginning to form, as if he somehow owes her attention.

"That'll be all," he says, waving her off. Dismissively.

Unsettled. No matter how foolish it is to be unsettled by a, well, dream.

He gets up, abruptly, and heads for his office. Pam can deal with closing up.

Comments

[lazy_but_loyal]

As the staff bus the tables, straighten out chairs, and mop up spills, Pam sits at one of the tables with the cash drawers from the registers, sorting and counting the money. Out of the corner of her eye, she too, watches Yvetta on the pole. And Eric on the throne. But whenever she looks up, she notices that he isn't...quite there.

And how can you not be there when Yvetta is dancing just for you?

She sighs and continues counting the bills. Until Eric abruptly gets up and practically runs off, leaving the girl up there all bewildered and pouting and whatnot, and she has a great pout.

Concerned, Pam watches him leave. He's probably going to brood now. They've been dealing with a lot of shit lately, so it comes as no surprise. But he can't get too lost in his own thoughts. Somebody has to pull him out.

Pam bundles up the money and receipts. She catches Yvetta and slips her something extra, for Eric making her stay late. And then she heads for Eric's office under the pretense of putting the cash away in the safe. She knocks first, because he's obviously in a Mood, and then enters.

[onceaviking]

He is seated behind his desk and he is most definitely in a mood.
And ignoring her.

He is staring at his steepled fingers, trying to push away the last vestiges of the dream, fantasy, whatever. Trying not to obsess over the fact that the Queen is still breathing down their neck.
Trying to curb the ever growing urge to rush off to Jackson and beat down every door till he finds the wolves. And their Master.

[lazy_but_loyal]

If he says nothing, then she'll say nothing. At least until after she stashes the cash and locks the safe. Then she'll stand in front of his desk and stare at him, a hand on her hip.

That usually gets him to say something first.

[onceaviking]

After a while, he looks at her.

"What?"
He sounds irritable. And distracted.
And maybe even a little upset.

[lazy_but_loyal]

Works like a charm.

"Just about ready to close up," she says, nonchalant.

"I gave Yvetta a nice tip since she should've clocked out an hour ago."

[onceaviking]

He looks at her. Blankly.

Then he says, "Yeah, whatever," and returns to staring at his fingers.

[lazy_but_loyal]

She huffs a short sigh.

She was never one to beat around the bush.

"You were fine when you got back from Lafayette's tonight, and now you're not. What's wrong?"

Pam's what's wrongs are the least coddling of their kind.

[onceaviking]

"Nothing's wrong," he replies. Flatly.

Even if he wanted to, he couldn't tell her. Not the things she doesn't already know about.

[lazy_but_loyal]

She expected that.

"Then what's gotten into you? It was like you were staring straight through Yvetta. Usually she's the distraction."

[onceaviking]

"My mind was elsewhere," he says. Testily.

Not so much because of her question, but because of the fact that he had been preoccupied.

he had wanted to kiss Sookie. He had wanted to believe that she was right. That she could smell his memories.

"It shouldn't come as a surprise."

[lazy_but_loyal]

"No, it doesn't," she says evenly.

"And your mind is still elsewhere, when it should be here."

[onceaviking]

"Don't, "he says, "presume to think you know how I should conduct my affairs, Pamela."

His voice is cold.

He has to. Because this whole mass of shit is uncontrollable, and he has to try and change that.

There is so much shit she doesn't know.

[lazy_but_loyal]

The sudden coldness of his tone takes her aback. He is serious, and would become angrier if she pressed him, but she sets her jaw.

"I'm not presuming anything. I just don't want you getting caught up in things that aren't important right now."

She saw the expression on his face when he was 'watching' Yvetta. It wasn't his cool, calculating look -- he was fucking lost.

[onceaviking]

There's a brief flash of real anger in his eyes.
But when he speaks to her again, he still stats out with merely sounding cold.
And distant.

She'll know though. In that way, Maker and Progeny are always close. Always intimate. Even when it would be better if they were not.

"There is more at stake here than what you see, Pam. And none of it is unimportant."
He tries to suppress the snarl, but it sort of sneaks out by the very end at that sentence.

It is too revealing. Too emotional. But he cannot help it.

[lazy_but_loyal]

His anger should be a cue for her to back down. But she's as stubborn as fuck, and he knows this.

"Then tell me what I'm not seeing. How am I supposed to fucking help you?"

She tries to keep the pleading tone out of her voice, but it's there, just as Eric's snarl had roughened the edges of his words.

[onceaviking]

"Enough!" he snaps.
"Do not assume you know when I need you."

Because he does. And he knows it. And he cannot allow it. and he needs Godric to be there
And he doesn't know what to do and she cannot know that.

[lazy_but_loyal]

The harshness of his statement stuns her.

She blinks at him, wordless, her throat tight.

When she does find the wherewithal to speak, her low voice wavers like a taut string.

"Fine. What do you want me to do?"

Now she's angry. And hurt. But she suppresses it because it doesn't matter. She would put Eric before herself in any situation. Even if he's being an asshole.

[onceaviking]

He turns his back on her.
His back and shoulders radiate tension. And aggression.

"You stay here and keep things running. I'll stop by Lafayette's tomorrow and make sure that he moves the last V. Then I'll head to Jackson, deal with the weres, and that's the end of that."
His voice is cold again. Controlled.
But he can feel his emotions boil just beneath the surface.

Bill Compton is not relevant. Not at the moment. They'll deal with him if they have to.
And she doesn't know, cannot know, about the rest.

[lazy_but_loyal]

She wishes he wouldn't turn his back to her when he speaks because that hurts more than anything. She'd rather have him snarl in her face than that.

So, fine. She'll do what he tells her. She just wants to be useful to him right now, but if he keeps his distance like this, there isn't much else she can do.

"All right."

She turns and heads for the door.

"I'll leave you alone, then."

Her voice is just as cold as his.

[onceaviking]

He doesn't answer. And he keeps his back turned. Staring hard at his bookshelves, not seeing anything.

And when he turns, she has already left.

He stands, looking at the door for a little while, his hands balled into fists.
And then he too leaves, slamming the door so hard behind him that one of the hinges is torn clear off.

Tomorrow night cannot come fast enough.