Nothing here is mine. Characters, etc. pretty much belong to Harris, Ball and HBO masters.
A sliver of moon dangled in the night sky outside the window, casting a cool glow across the living room. Jessica and Hoyt sat side by side on their couch, engulfed by the flowered upholstery, a picture of domesticity. They looked expectantly at Nan Flanagan, who sat across from them, suited and official, equipped with her Blackberry and a small notebook. Pam perched, bored, on the arm of an old lounge chair.
"I think I think that covers it," Ms. Flanagan said, closing her notebook. "Tomorrow, a small crew will arrive and set up, probably here in the living room." She looked around with a slight grimace. "It's quaint. They'll ask you both the questions we went over, and you will answer exactly the way you did just now."
Hoyt raised his finger, as if to ask permission to speak. "And this will be on TV?"
Ms. Flanagan nodded. "We are using it as stock video for any media inquiries, but it will also be featured in our "It Gets Deader" YouTube campaign."
"So we'll be on TV?"
"You'll be on the internet."
"Good," Hoyt's forehead creased with determination. "I want as many people as possible to know that vampires deserve every opportunity to be happy."
Jessica smiled and leaned into him. "Hoyt, that's so sweet."
Hoyt pecked her on the forehead and rose from the couch. "I'm going to go grab my dinner. Would anyone like any True Blood?"
An emphatic "No" resounded from the three vampires. Ms. Flanagan quickly recovered, stating, "Thank you, Hoyt, I had some before I came."
Pam rolled her eyes at the spokeswoman's diplomatic, and probably untrue, response. Hoyt, unconcerned, slid past Jessica and lurched off towards the kitchen. In the quick moment of silence, Ms. Flanagan turned her attention toward her Blackberry. Jessica stared curiously at the blonde for a moment, a question perched on her lips.
"Ms. Flanagan, can I ask you a question?"
"Sure," Nan responded, her eyes still glued to the device in her lap.
"Who is your maker?"
Nan's head jolted upwards. Suspicion flickered briefly across her eyes, before her face resumed its blank, diplomatic expression. "I don't know."
This caught Pam's attention, and she flipped her head questioningly at Ms. Flanagan. Jessica jolted in disbelief. "You don't know?"
Jessica looked at her, incredulously. "So who taught you how to be a vampire then?"
"I learned on my own."
Pam spoke up softly. "The hard way." Ms. Flanagan twisted her neck towards her, fixing her with an icy glare.
Jessica, still unbelieving, asked, "How did you not know who your maker was? Didn't you see them? When it happened?"
Ms. Flanagan gave a breath of impatience. "The circumstances of my transition left me not entirely conscious."
Jessica continued her questioning. "You couldn't ever feel them?" She leaned back against the couch. "I feel Bill all the time, it's like a constant tug in my brain. You never felt anyone?"
"How old are you?"
"Older than you."
"Are you older than Bill?"
"What was it like to be a woman back then?"
"Do you have a progeny?"
"In all this time, you never made any other vampires?"
"They ask too many questions." Ms. Flanagan gave Jessica a harsh stare, and then rose from her chair. "I think we're done here. I'll let you know when to expect the crew tomorrow." She turned her head toward the armchair. "Pam. Will you be here tomorrow?"
"See that you aren't." Ms. Flanagan strode towards the foyer. Jessica loped to the kitchen after Hoyt, and Pam followed the spokeswoman to the door. Placing her hand on the door knob, Ms. Flanagan turned to Pam and met her eyes.
"She's not your progeny."
"I know that," Pam replied.
"Then why do you find yourself connected to her?"
Anger flashed through Pam's eyes. "I don't," she replied. "I happen to enjoy watching her delusional train wreck of a domestic life."
Ms. Flanagan gave an icy smile. "I don't think you do."
Pam returned the smile. "I don't think I care what you think."
"Don't get connected to a progeny that isn't your own," Ms. Flanagan warned. "No good will come to them, you, or your maker."
Pam smirked. "This, coming from a little vampire orphan?"
Ms. Flanagan overlooked the remark. "You can choose to ignore this advice. I'll enjoy watching the shit show you create."
She opened the door and stalked toward her car, as Pam slammed the door behind her. She turned her head toward the kitchen, as Jessica playfully yelped. "Hoyt! I told you to get rid of those wooden utensils!" Pam turned her head toward the door momentarily, then flung it open and flashed out into the night.
The air was heavy, the moon only slightly bigger than the previous night. Eric moved noiselessly through rows of brush, the rustle of the dry leaves grating against the silence. He came upon a clearing that overlooked a piece of land that at one time aspired to be a small neighborhood. Only two houses stood, one completed, the other merely a foundation and the outline of walls. Piles of cement, two-by-fours, abandoned bulldozers littered the development, remnants of a once thriving real estate economy. Eric noticed lights on in the completed house. Alcide and Debbie moved soundlessly inside. Eric moved to his right, his boots crunching pine straw. He focused on a small patio in the back of the house. A small table and two chairs sat upon a slab of concrete. Potted flowers outlined it, giving a homely aura to the structure. Eric flashbacked to a year earlier. Only he and two other beings knew how deep that concrete went.
The bass thumped through the office walls, and Pam strained to hear the caller on the other end of the line. "No, we do not have a Twitter page. Whatever deal was tweeted to your inbox does not apply to Fangtasia." She paused. "Have a nice, short life. Goodbye." She clicked the phone off and dropped it onto her desk. "Damn social media."
A knock sounded at the door. "Come in," Pam called.
Sookie opened the door and poked her head in.
"Oh great." Pam cocked her head toward Sookie. "Look who's here."
"I came to see Eric."
"He's not here."
Sookie walked into the office and shut the door behind her. Pam watched her, only halfway amused at the girl's determination. "Did you hear me, blondie? He's not here."
"Well, can I wait in here?" Sookie asked.
"No," Pam replied. "You can wait outside and purchase a beverage."
Sookie stood her ground. "I would rather wait in here, if you don't mind. Those fangbangers frighten me."
Pam flashed around the desk and was upon Sookie in a split second, baring her fangs. "You would rather wait in here with me?" she whispered.
Sookie swallowed, shaking her head. "I know it doesn't make sense," she said, "but yes."
Pam tucked her fangs back in and sighed, shaking her head. "You are hopeless."
The phone rang out from the desk, and Pam sighed before picking it up. "Fangtasia, your Utopia for Controlled Sexual Terror. Can I help you?"
"Pam!" Jessica's panicked voice blared through the speaker, causing Pam to pull the phone away from her ear.
"Pam, I need help!"
"Have you killed someone?" Pam glanced at Sookie and smiled. Sookie looked toward the door, rethinking her decision to wait in the office.
"No!" Jessica's voice continued to bleed through the speaker. "Hoyt just stormed out of the house and the film crew is expected any minute. I don't know what to do!"
Pam rolled her eyes. "Girlfriend, you're a vampire. Sniff him out, put his balls in a vice, and bring him back home nice and pretty for the interview. Even a human woman could do that to her husband."
"No, Pam!" Again, Pam pulled the phone away from her ear. "He's hurt. And angry. I don't know what to do, I feel terrible. Should I call Ms. Flanagan?"
Pam shook her head. "No, Jessica, for heaven's sake. Is this about the midnight snack you had last night?" She once again looked over at Sookie and smiled.
"Yes," Jessica replied.
"See where making promises gets you?" Pam chided.
"Will you just please help?" Jessica pleaded.
"How am I supposed to help?" Pam glanced over one last time at Sookie, this time sneering at her, a mischievous gleam in her eye. Sookie noticed, and stared back at her, indignantly. "What?" she asked.
Pam spoke into the phone. "Jessica. We'll be right there."
Sookie spoke again, this time worry creeping into her voice. "What!" she repeated.
Nan Flanagan stood seething in front of the television in her office, her arms crossed tightly across her chest. She watched as Jessica and Sookie beamed from the monitor.
"Well, we met one night at Merlotte's," Jessica stated. "Through a mutual friend. Sookie here served me dinner, and from there it was love at first smell."
"Love at first sight," Sookie quickly interjected. The two of them smiled awkwardly as Jessica tossed her arm around Sookie's shoulder.
Nan flicked the television off with the remote she held in her hand, then threw the device at the television screen. She called out to a nearby assistant, her voice concentrated with venom. "Get me a car."