Sookie the Vampire Slayer
By: Sleepy Lotus
In an alternative universe in which Sookie kicks ass, she and Sheriff Northman have a history. S/E.
Chapter 1: Armed and Dangerous
Ten years, and hardly anything had changed. Fangtasia had undergone an expansion, gained a new level to accommodate more tourists, but it still stank the same, even from the outside.
Sookie didn't mean the smell, though that was in there too somewhere. Alcohol and sweat, and sex. But what turned Sookie's stomach was the psychic stank. She'd ignored it the first time she walked through the doors, so long ago. What seemed like an eternity ago, looking back on the innocent girl she'd been, and the woman she'd become.
But now, Sookie could not ignore the despair that clung to the walls of this dive. Humans and vampires alike who desperately wanted to feel something, left a nasty aftertaste behind. There was death too. And then, there was the blood. Nothing visible to the naked eye, but it clung in nooks and crannies, those little crevices no mop could really ever reach.
All in all, her skin veritably crawled as she approached the bouncer at the door. This could go one of two ways, she knew. Bad, or worse, and it would all start at the door. She could see the vampire was blond, long hair. Trashy goth clothes…she held her breath, waiting for her to look up from an ID of a frat boy in front of her.
And released it with relief.
The bouncer gave her a funny look, sensing Sookie's discord, but waved her through. A new vampire, didn't know her.
Sookie knew she wasn't quite dressed in the right uniform for vampire bar hopping. She wore black leather, but a motorcycle jacket, that concealed a shoulder holster containing a Berettta 9mm. Tight jeans, dark wash. Black cowboy boots. Business or pleasure, who could tell, in Louisiana?
Sookie hit the bar, ordering a gin and tonic, and scanned the crowd. The throne lay empty, and somehow more ominous unoccupied. The vampire that killed you was the one you didn't see, lurking in the shadows, she'd come to learn.
She didn't think Eric Northman would try to kill her on sight, but she'd been wrong before.
They did have a history.
The vampire slayer picked through minds, but found nothing but thoughts of sex and loneliness. Her job couldn't possibly be so easy. Resigned, she pulled the photos of the girls she sought information about, and flashed them around. Most people were annoyed by her interruption, no one knew anything. The bartender was new too, so she decided to take a chance.
Fangtasia went through bartenders fast, she knew.
This one was of latino descent, and spoke with a heavy accent. She found it easier to converse in Spanish with her, and the small woman rolled large dark eyes to study the photos with a stare so intense, Sookie half expected them to burst into flames in her hands.
Apparently, Carmen had seen the both of them at Fangtasia here and there, but couldn't remember how many times, or who with. One makes a point not to remember such details here, blah blah, yeah, Sookie knew all too well.
But it was a start.
Sookie sipped on her gin, and turned to take in the crowd, keeping an eye on the bartender, an eye on the door, and her mind on the crowd. It was almost to her surprise when a young vampire siddled up next to her, with the obvious intention of hitting her up. The vampire slayer had forgone the dress and heels for a reason; she could do without the male attention, it got in the way. In all modesty, she worked out like hell for her job, lifting weights and running-it had its aesthetic perks, but such perks she did not intend to share with this crowd.
"Move along, shorty," she deadpanned, before the handsome young dead thing could even open his mouth. "This pony ain't for sale."
Anger darkened his countenance; Romeo didn't like taking no for an answer, apparently. "Don't be difficult, darling."
She felt the tug on her mind, the young vamp attempting to glamour her, and Sookie just sneered. "You're still here?" She set down her gin on the bar. She had a feeling. A bad one.
"Seems someone needs to teach you some manners, girlie. Humility goes a long way."
"So does a pulse, but you don't seem to have one."
She felt him more than saw him, and responded intuitively. The young vampire suddenly found himself not with his hands around her throat, but with his arm twisted around behind his back, his face intimately acquainted with the polished oak of the bar.
No human should have been able to hold a vampire like that, but Sookie Stackhouse wasn't exactly human.
"Get off me," he snarled, fangs distended, but struggled to no avail.
"Don't think so, fang boy. Nice to meet you, I'm Federal Marshall Sookie Stackhouse. I am a vampire slayer for the state of Louisiana, and I just caught you red handed trying to use unlawful methods of mental coercion on a human being. What do you have to say for yourself?"
"You're hurting me," he grumbled in a moment of humility.
Rufus Jones never expected to have his ass handed to him by a small blond woman in the middle of Fangtasia, that was for damn sure.
"So violent, Sookie Stackhouse. And I remember the young, gentle thing you once were."
Sookie's heart dropped to her feet at the sound of that voice, coming from somewhere behind her.
It's the vampire you don't see, that always gets you.
"You mean the naïve, stupid girl I was?"
She didn't have to look at Eric to know that infuriating smirk to be firmly in place. The one she never could quite decide to slap or kiss-she would do neither, but it was a damn near biblical feat of self control.
"I would prefer innocent," he said softly, so only she could hear.
Sookie shook off the warm feeling welling in her heart, that threatened to betray her once more. It was like no time at all had passed; Eric was still a handsome devil. Still knew what to say to make her melt.
Too bad he was a dead man, and a manipulative one to boot.
"Tell you what, vampire," she said theatrically to her captive upon the bar, so all around could hear. "I'm going to let you go with a warning this time. But if I catch you doing it again, it's the sunroom for you."
The sunroom was a method of execution devised by the state of Texas, but used almost nation wide. Less messy than stakes, the remains burned to a nice crisp that could be vacuumed up around noon.
Vampire rights groups had been up in arms about it for years.
Sookie knew it wasn't a clean way to go, but she couldn't quite bring herself to care anymore. She'd cleaned up too many victims, to empathize with the vampires.
Sookie turned to find Eric staring down at her, intense blue eyes, the color of a fine aquamarine, glittering with a deadly intelligence no gemstone could ever convey. Once, those eyes had swept her off her feet.
Now, they still inspired a certain jolt of lightning below the belt, but at least she had the sense to be angry about it.
"So, what brings you our humble establishment tonight, Marshall Stackhouse? It has been a long time."
He seemed entirely too amused by her title.
He could remember when she'd been but a lamb, wandering through his bar with a look of bewildered wonder upon her face, just young enough to drink and not belonging in the crowd there in the least. Visions of her white sundress still danced behind his eyes before his day rest, now and then.
Ten years, a drop in the bucket to a creature such as him.
Ten years had seemed an eternity, without even a sighting of her, since that fateful August night when she cast him from her life forever.
"I was hoping we could talk about the Monster of Bon Temps. I've been assigned to the case."
"What does the Monster of Bon Temps have to do with vampires? Tragic, yes, but these killings are none of our concern."
"Actually, forensic evidence has brought to light that one of you is responsible. So are you going to do your duty as Sheriff of Area V, or are you just going to lounge around on your throne all night like a freak on display at the circus?"
A dark look crossed Eric's expression, a beast gliding to the surface and disappearing back down into the dark depths. Sookie reminded herself to tone it down. So what if she'd been stocking up insults for the past ten years, should this day come when he finally stood before her?
She could be a professional, even if she had an alarming desire to scream and rage at the thousand year old vampire.
"My office?" Eric stepped aside, waving her on. She knew where to go. But there was no way she wanted him at her back.
She would never, ever trust him like that again.
Eric protested not, turning on his heel, parting the crowd around them like an artic icebreaker. Sookie couldn't see the expression on his face, but if the fangbangers cowering were any indication, it wasn't a happy one.
The vampire, of course, had not changed a bit, and Sookie knew for a fact that walking behind him afforded her the best view in the tri-county area. She hated him just a little for it.
Sookie entered Eric's office warily, none too thrilled to be in an enclosed space with a thousand year old vampire.
Eric leaned against his desk, crossing chiseled arms over a muscular chest. A long silence passed between them, and Sookie fought not to squirm under his evaluative stare. She was a tough-as-nails vampire slayer, god damnit. She wasn't a 21 year old virgin anymore, dazzled by the fact that she couldn't read his thoughts, and his striking good looks.
"You are still so very beautiful," he finally broke the silence, and there was a sadness in his eyes that caught her off guard. "I had wondered how the years would treat you." How death's hand would paint the years she paid him.
He'd offered her immortality once, but she'd refused for her love of the light and the sun. He'd been certain he could convince her though. They were supposed to have more time. Still, Eric felt robbed of her, and such a sore spot left him feeling none too pleased with himself.
"Don't," she spat. "I'm here about the murders. Nothing more."
"You don't miss me at all?"
Eric found it hard to believe. The sound of her pulse thundered in his ears; he knew he still affected her, even if she resented him for it. The vampire pushed away from the desk, and Sookie held up a hand, as though warding off a blow. But as he suddenly appeared before her, reaching up to caress her hair, her moment of vulnerability passed.
Fast as lightning, Eric found the muzzle of her Beretta 9mm shoved under his ribs. "Back up," she demanded.
Eric sneered at the gun, hiding the fact that he was very surprised by her speed. Where had it come from? The rumors were true, it appeared. "I could have your throat before you pull the trigger."
He wasn't sure, actually, but liked to think so if for anything, ego's sake.
"You know bullets won't harm me. I'm too old for such things."
"Actually, this is loaded with silver plated hollow tips. They will make a very big, very painful hole, that will heal very slowly."
"Uncle Sam's dime. Your tax dollars at work."
Slowly, Eric backed away, that infuriating grin in place. The one he wore when he didn't quite have a handle on the situation yet, but he intended to bend the room to his will shortly.
It was a mask, and she knew it.
So, she really was armed and dangerous now.
A/N: A bit different flavor for Sookie, but I hope you enjoyed. More to come!