A Freudian Slip- EPOV

(I'm really not writing this anymore, just like I said last year but this is actually a chapter before Eric visits the farmhouse that I hadn't added, so that doesn't count, right? I couldn't really help myself just a little pre-Sookie lemon.)

The knock on my office door was so tentative I nearly ignored it in my unsettled state. I desired no visitors, what I did desire was the smell and taste of the blood that I had been thinking about. Her naked, poisoned, and injured body was still so enticing after the Maenaed attack, that my fangs were itching in my mouth at the thought of it. If I had known then, that I would be forever forbidden to drink , I would not have waited. I remember Bill's defiant snarl of "MINE!" (Not if you're finally dead I thought.) I didn't want just her blood though, I wanted all of her. And if I was honest, I wanted her to take my blood, the way she took Bill's that night. I almost wish I hadn't tricked her after she spat my gift out in disgust and some of her retched dreams overtook my sleep. Memories of my human dreams were so distant as to be imperceptible, only the ghost of a shadow. Enduring her dreams invading my psyche was like a slow tear of a muscle, a rending of the fabric where feeling and control were safely tethered. Another nervous tap on the frame sounded. No one had access to my office through the public pathways of the bar.

"Enter" I growled.

The door whispered slowly open and a human sidestepped through the opening. Her heartbeat was practically deafening and she swallowed so hard I thought I could hear the saliva rushing through her esophagus.

"Misst..umm.. uh Mister Northman?" she sputtered with a sweet southern twang.

I stared at her up and down. She was a young shapely human wearing a waitress uniform for some chain restaurant with black shorts, a tight white low cut blouse, and her shiny long blonde hair was pulled back into a high ponytail. (naturally)

"I am he." I tipped my head smiling with fang..." and you are?"

"My uh... my name is well…, Ms. Ravenscroft said to tell you my nickname for the interview?"

"…'Cause Uncle Bobby and my roommates call me Cookie."

It was then that I heard the clicking of my child's high heels in the hallway and a small cackle of glee erupting as she pulled up a barstool.

I shook my head. (Pamela!) This little offering is meant as diversion no doubt, to improve my rather foul mood. I could suss out the sweet aroma of young blood coursing beneath the fryer grease and her unfortunate cologne.

I know Pam is actually concerned for me. If only my pains were temporal and an attractive meal and fuck could vanquish the suffering that the loss of Godric, and the introduction of Sookie , has created in my afterlife. I automatically think back to our mission in Dallas and how she bravely pulled the chains from my neck. Silver pain is easily forgotten… My mind replays the rooftop images in a seemingly endless loop, with the bittersweet image of Sookie's compassionate face, her tears for my Master. Profound pain and unexpected light, pouring into my dreams and consciousness, drowning and bathing in light. Each time it pours out of my fingertips and eludes my grasp. A light that I can never keep .

"Shouldn't vampires burn in the light?" I ask- out loud apparently.

"Perhaps I am burning," I thought to myself.

I finally looked up at the very confused distraction. She was perched uncomfortably on the side of my couch. While waiting, her hands had run out of perspiration and chafed as she rubbed them together nervously. She raised one leg up slightly.

" So, umm.. Do you need someone?"

"Apparently," I stated dryly.

" Let me take a good look at you," I gestured for her to come to me as if I needed to look at her in the desk light. She was tanned and was shivering with fear and excitement. I watched her skin turn to gooseflesh and I almost chuckled. She was brushing very close and my appetite began to whet. I looked her in the eyes. They were blue and clear. A twinkling light behind her eyes were dancing, it was a light that I could oh so easily extinguish. The spark was training itself to my pupils' darkness already. At my age the dominance is practically instantaneous in the willing. Humans are so easy, I thought. I usually have them look away or blindfold them when supping or sexing to make it more sporting. I thought of Sookie's remarkable eyes, something like melted chocolates or amber in a steaming volcano, how she always stares back at me, meeting even my coldest glare, even when she's furious… oh, especially when she's furious. How her chin juts out in that stubborn unyielding fashion.

Yes, I am getting hungry now, perhaps I will play with my food a little.

I stared into her eyes and put both hands gently around her waist, she nodded yes vigorously, as I rotated her and set her soft bottom onto my desk. Her breathing picked up and she licked her lips. They were cherry red and shiny with gloss.

"Well, aren't you sweet?" I queried, as my hand prised her knees apart and slowly traveled up her legs.

"Oh yes, I'm very sweet!" she replied.

I stepped back a moment and thought of a human saying for Pamela, "Close, but no cigar."

She would read something Freudian in that, no doubt.

Then Cookie peeled off her T-shirt. The girl's lovely tight breasts were cupped into a flowered daisy bra. I sat back down in my office chair and brushed my hands down the length of her now damp skin from chin to stomach, then slid my hands over her breasts until they dimpled inside their flowered casing, I kissed her stomach and slid her shorts and panties to the floor.

"Aren't you worried about Bill, my darling?"… "I thought you were HIS?" I teasingly inquired. I was having a lovely little dream as I licked and nibbled inside her strong taut thighs and cupped her ass to bring her to my mouth.

"MMMMM.. OOOOh God, please" she squirmed and thrashed.

"Oh, Bill, won't like that…sweetheart"

Confused but beyond caring, "Who the hell is Bill?" she panted back.

"EXACTLY!" I agreed.

Once again I could hear my sire at the bar, she chuckled heartily at our exchange. She deserves some fun after all. As I continued my ministrations to the girl's downy covered center, a suspicion I had was confirmed. I brought her to a blushed and satisfying final completion with gentle fingers. I immediately bit her thigh, drawing a hearty sip of youthful flavor as she lay pinned, writhing and moaning all over my monthly bank statements.

"Wow," she breathed at last as I swiftly dressed her and ushered her to the door.

"You were lovely, Cookie. Ms. Ravenscroft will be calling you about a position, after I have a chat with her... all right?"

"Oh o.k. uhh. did? well ..yes." she floated uncertainly towards the exit.

Pam marched into the office right on time.

"That was a short interview, Master- usually the dancers get a thorough umm, look over?"

" She's not suitable for the dance lineup or waitress and you know it. I was thinking of that all night bakery you wanted to purchase. What were you going to call it? "

"Basket of Goodies?" She grinned, " I am pleased you liked the idea, it seems profitable," she licked her lips " I could think of plenty of positions for a tasty one like that I'm sure."

"Pamela." I narrowed my eyes. " I don't know who is worse, you or that Renfield, Bobby Burnham for sending his virgin niece over here to curry favor."

" Oh Eric, you're so old fashioned," Pam clucked disapprovingly. "No one cares about their precious cherries these days." Pam drawled on in her cool way. "You don't get 20 head of cattle with your dowry for some bloody sheets, anymore."

I never quite understood those customs, either. Yet… I find myself considering Godric's ideas of humans, as of late. And these are ideas that baffle Pam. Still her loyalty remains with me, although it is in direct proportion with her need to torment me.

"But, Master I must agree about your day man", she raised an eyebrow…"he does put the Sick, in sycophant."

"That will be all Pamela...thank you." pointedly, I add " I am fine."

"Of Course." she responds. She bows her head in deference, and I think perhaps to shield a slight smile. As she starts to leave I hear a waitress activate the answering machine then a choked and worried female voice follows a beep.

How very interesting.