A/N: Set between "Dead As A Doornail" (book 5) and "Definitely Dead" (book 6), this is the product of talking True Blood while listening to the Rocky Horror Picture Show soundtrack. Not the first SVM I've written, but the first I've finished & posted here. Just a short bit of funny. Cookies for people who guess who Bubba gets dressed up as. And since book!Pam is a short demure-looking thing, I suspect she'd make a great Janet.
Sing it with me, folks.
(Also, goes without saying, but I say it anyway. I do not own the Southern Vampire Series or the Rocky Horror Picture Show. I'm just making mudpies. Yay.)
"Oh for all that is holy!" I covered my eyes with both hands and choked on my intended words standing in the doorway of Eric's office.
"Sookie, you can take your hands off your eyes."
"No thanks. I'll keep 'em right here."
"He is appropriately covered. You act as though you haven't seen it before," Pam said, and I could hear her smile.
"We don't talk about that, Pam. I'd appreciate it if, if, you know, ya'll could put on some more clothes," I said, keeping my eyes covered with one hand, I gestured in the direction of whatever horror I'd just been subjected to. All I could think was Amelia's warning, the rules of the internet - one of them was something like 'you can't unsee something' and I was feeling very much right then like I wished it wasn't as true off the internet as on.
"Oh for the love of," Pam sounded exasperated, and she tugged my other hand off my face, but I kept my eyes squeezed shut. "Open your eyes, silly girl. You really are a prude sometimes, you know that?"
"I'm not opening my eyes until you two have at least 50% more clothing on than when I walked in here," I said very confidently, and stopped squeezing my lids so hard because I was worried about a tension headache.
"Sookie, it's safe," Eric said softly with a fair share of amusement.
"Don't you trust me?" he asked, and I could feel, like you feel when someone is watching you, that he was walking closer to me.
"When it comes to you, me, and one of us without any clothes? No, not particularly."
"Well I can't make any promises for you, but I can behave with Pam in the room."
"Liar. Pam just left."
"How do you know?"
"I'm telepathic, not retarded, Eric. Please."
"Open your eyes."
"Do you have any more clothes on?"
I sighed. Well, at least he was honest. And I had seen it all before. I opened one eye slowly and hesitantly, still squinting the other shut and I'm sure making a face.
With both hesitantly opened, he was standing an arm's length away with his arms across his chest and a smile on his face. He was wearing gold lamé shorts and shin-high boots of the same material.
I curled my lips up in a grimace. "What are you wearing?"
"It's for a party."
"You have far too many costume parties for your own good."
"I have to entertain myself somehow."
"What...exactly...are you supposed to be?"
Color me confused. "Um...I've seen those movies several times. I don't recall this outfit in any one of them," I said, gesturing up and down, and he just laughed.
"What? They run out of sweatbands and tshirts with the collars ripped out? What the hell are you laughing at?"
"Wrong one, my dear. Less Philadelphia, more Transsexual."
"Well, I..." I couldn't think of a damn thing to say. "What?"
"Have you never seen Rocky Horror Picture Show?"
"I'm Rocky, the perfect man."
I just stared, unenthused. Torn somewhere between agreeing with him and needing very much to put my foot down when it came to encouraging him, the best I could come up with was a slightly disbelieving "Uh-huh."
"Didn't you see Thalia when you walked in?"
"In the glittery top hat?"
"Must've missed her."
"She's very proud of her outfit."
"I'm sure she is."
"It's the anniversary. Everyone's coming dressed up."
"Was there something you wanted?"
"I...I honestly can't remember. My corneas have been permanently scarred with the sight of Pam helping you adjust those shorts."
"I'm sorry, I would have saved the privilege, but I didn't realize you were coming to visit," he said with a wink.
I let out an uneasy laugh. "I'm going now."
"You're going to miss the movie."
"Funnily enough, I think I'll survive," I assured him, and turned for the door.
"We're dressing Bubba up."
"Sounds great. Bye!"
"What was it you wanted?"
"If it was actually important, I'm sure I will remember!" I yelled, walking out through the glitter-crusted S&M brothel that had somehow escaped my purview on the way in.
"So I should save these shorts then?"
I knew he was egging me on, so I didn't face him as I turned the corner around the bar, and gifted him with my middle finger.
"Don't make promises you can't keep!"
I'm not sure if the blushing was from the laughter that followed me out or the prospect of actually keeping those promises.
Either way, I was still glad he hadn't remembered the mushy bits. Let him think it was all fun and sex games. I could deal with that. It was the forever crap I still didn't have a handle on.