Hagar at Hooligan's
A Southern Vampire Mysteries Fanfiction Short Story
DISCLAIMER: The Southern Vampire Mysteries stories and characters are the creation and property of Charlaine Harris, and all copyrights belong to her. The author of this story does not claim any rights and makes no profit from this work.
I looked in the mirror and turned to every possible viewable angle. Then I looked back at the five rejects on the bed. I had opted for slim black crops, well, as slim as you can get with my hips anyway, and my sparkly blue halter. The red mini on the bed was still calling out, but I was ignoring it.
I tried out a few pairs of earrings, ending up with the diamonds Eric had given me. I thought they outclassed my outfit, but then I figured diamonds are always good. Besides, I really wanted to have something of Eric's on tonight.
Pam appeared in the doorway in the middle of my umpteenth fidget session in front of the closet mirror. "No one will look at you tonight anyway," she said. True enough. Pam was dressed in fitted khaki slacks with a rose twin set – very Pam. Grabbing my purse, I moved towards the door before she got too impatient.
Amelia was waiting in the car. She moved to the back seat when we came out, which she really didn't have to do. "Nope, it's your party," she said when I offered to sit in the back. I took shotgun and we were off.
We pulled in to Hooligan's to find the parking lot packed. Pam started cursing under her breath but eventually found a spot in the very back. "He better make it worth it," Amelia grumbled as we walked to the door. "Oh, he will," Pam said, with the first twinge of excitement in her voice.
The girl taking the cover couldn't have been much over 22. She was tall, dark and curvy in all the right places. She was wearing a brown suede one-strap dress that barely came over her butt. Apart from the fact that it showed off every one of those perfect curves, it was in perfect tune with the theme for the evening. Pam licked her lips as she handed the girl our covers.
"Down, girl," Amelia said with a flare of jealousy, though I wasn't sure if she was jealous of Pam or Curvy. I kept up my mental shields as tight as I could so I wouldn't find out.
We looked around the room but there was hardly an empty table. In fact, the only spot that was open was a reserved table right in front of the stage. I was about to suggest that we just give up and head back when Amelia started dragging me over to the bar. I ordered a gin and tonic – tonight was no night for ginger ale.
Behind the bar I noticed the new Vampires of Fangtasia calendars were for sale. The previous edition had been such a hit that Eric decided a new on was in store. To me, it didn't make any sense why they wouldn't just reprint that original. Vampires didn't change after all. "We've had a few new additions," Eric answered, explaining that Clancy, who died during the Fae war, had been in the original. I hadn't known that since I'd never made it past Mr. January. Eric donned his most arrogant smile when I confessed it to him.
"I moved to February this time," Pam was saying to Amelia as we all looked at the calendars on the wall. "The photographer said pink was my color. Would you like a souvenir for the evening, Sookie?"
"Sure," I said automatically, knocking back the rest of my drink and ordering another. As Pam paid for the calendar, the bouncer who had been at the door behind Curvy came up to us.
"Sookie Stackhouse?" he asked, looking at me. This can't be good.
"Yes," I answered.
"We have a table reserved for you and your friends. If you would please follow me," he turned and lead us to that one open table. Great. Stage front seats. Maybe I should have let Eric turn me. It was beginning to look like tonight would be my night to die of embarrassment.
Pam handed me the calendar, the Female Vampires of Louisiana calendar. I sighed. Pam.
"I trust you'll keep it open to February," she said. "All though Ms. September is a sight."
Amelia was eager with excitement. I thought her head might explode, taking mine with it, when the music started. Though I couldn't hear Pam's thoughts, her fangs were partially out, so I had a good guess there, too. I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks and lower down. This was going to be embarrassing on so many levels.
"Oh, come on, Sookie," Amelia said, grinning from ear to ear, "this is your bachelorette party, after all." She gave me a wink. I sank a little lower in my chair. Why did we have to sit in the front row?
In the fifteen minutes since we had arrived, Hooligan's had gotten even more packed. I had never made it over here before now, so I wasn't sure how busy it usually got on lady's night, but I was pretty sure this was way beyond the usual crowd.
After my house burned down, I stayed the night with Claude, but just the one so that wasn't why I owed him. I owed him for saving my life during my first car accident that month and for using his fairy charms to help me survive the emotional traumas that life kept hurling at me.
When I gathered the two things I owned and was leaving his house to move in with Eric, I made the mistake of telling him how grateful I was and if there was ever any way I could do to repay him for everything he had done for me, to let me know.
"Fucking fairies," I muttered under my breath. If every there was a time for cursing, this was it.
"Did you call me, Cousin?" Claude swaggered over and took the seat farthest away from Pam. Her eyes flashed instantly over to him and her fangs made it all the way down, but she stayed where she was. I had half a mind to tell her to go for it, but this wasn't all Claude's fault. Only half.
"Aren't you suppose to be at the door or bar or something?" I asked him tartly.
He grinned back at me. "Oh, I wouldn't miss this for the world," he said. His eyes were sparkling with the same lust and excitement that glistened through the room.
The music built up, and as Eric walked out onto the stage I thought my head really would explode from the noise, both inside and out. He was wearing brown leather pants that hugged his ass in the most mouth-watering way imaginable, and had a sleeveless, suede vest that didn't make it all the way down to his huge bone-clad belt buckle. And – oh my God! – he was wearing a horned helmet over his long braids. He even had a broad sword fastened to his hip. He had his hand on the hilt and pushed the handle down in a suggestive way as he strutted towards the front of the stage. How had I let them talk me in to this?
Claude had told me that the only way I could ever repay him was to ask Eric to give a special performance at his strip club.
"Claude!" I said, shocked, "I can't do that!"
"Why not?" He asked with a little pout in his voice.
"Because he's going to be my husband. I don't want him parading around naked on stage in front of a bunch of other women." Plus, I knew Eric would say yes, I just knew it.
"You can consider it your bachelorette party," he said, with a sly grin. He knew he would win this one.
Eric responded exactly as I thought he would. "If you plan to deprive the rest of the world of my many talents," he said, with a sexy leer that he was now sharing with the room full of drooling, screaming women and Claude, "then we should at least show them what they're missing."
He'd negotiated his cut with Claude, who had also agreed to stock the new Vampires of Louisiana calendar. Eric said this would be a good way to promote the calendar, and he was right. Claude told us they had just sold out of them a few minutes before Mr. January himself appeared on stage.
Eric's routine lasted a full 30 minutes. He tossed his vest to Pam, who was screaming along with the rest of the crowd, and got a whiff of Claude when he did. That sent his performance over the top. Every time he turned around to give us a rear view, the screams broke through my mental shields and I finally had my answers. No, I was not the only woman who could want a man so voraciously, and Yes, if there was an international butt competition, Eric would be the clear winner.
When he started swinging the sword around, sometime after his pants ended up on our table, at least three women passed out. Nearing the end, I was worried he was going for the full monty (except for the helmet, of course), whether he wanted to or not. The leather thong just didn't look like it was up to the challenge set before it, but Thank God! it held.
Eric flung the sword out over the crowd with enough force that it drove itself into wall behind the bar, right into the last Vampires of Louisiana calendar. More screaming and fainting ensued. After another turn to firm up his Best Butt status, he came back towards our table. I fought the urge to crawl under the table and pull the chair in behind me.
Eric dropped down to his stomach on the stage and leaned over to plant one on me. The shock of it knocked down my walls and I heard the onslaught of fantasies from the crowd, about half of which Eric and I had actually done. Not bad. Without breaking the kiss, Eric rose bringing me with him onto the stage. Once he was standing again, he threw me over his shoulder and started his slow walk off the back of the stage.
Oh, what the heck? I thought, and gave his butt a loud smack just before we disappeared behind the curtain. The response was deafening.
The thong finally gave way as he carried me into the dressing room for a private encore.
We came out two hours later, hoping the crowd had gone. Even for a vampire as old and strong as Eric, I thought he might have trouble handling that group. Eric was back in full coverage jeans with a Fangtasia t-shirt, but he was still wearing the helmet. I had a feeling we were going to keep that around for a while.
Claude was lounging dreamily at the empty bar, and I wasn't sure if the drool was due to Eric's performance or the gigantic take it had generated for the club. Probably both.
"Where are Pam and Amelia?" I asked as Claude slid off his stool to greet us, not coming too close. Eric's nostrils flared.
Claude shrugged, "They offered to give Stephanie a ride home," he gestured towards the door. That must have been Curvy.
He handed a large envelope to Eric, "If you ever feel like giving us another performance," Claude started to say. His gaze had the same focused desire as Eric's. I put my hands on Eric's chest and pushed him back a few paces away from Claude. He let me, and then wrapped his arms around my waist.
"You'll have to ask my wife," Eric answered when he finally snapped out of his trance.
Claude gave a frown, knowing my answer before he even checked the look on my face. He handed me a second, smaller envelope.
"What's this for?" I asked.
"The encore," he said. "We've never had so many requests for lap dances with the music turned off." My jaw hit the floor with a thud.
Eric was still laughing as he walked us out to his car.