?

Log in

rinfic

Shutter- True Blood

« previous entry | next entry »
Jan. 28th, 2011 | 12:47 am
posted by: rinaceous in rinfic

pairing: Eric/Sookie
series: True Blood / Southern Vamp Mysteries. AU: set after Dead and Gone, Godric made Eric.
rated: PG13.
notes: Fluffer-nutter. Continues after Descendants, Made, and Four Rings.




As the weeks passed and the calendar crept up on the date I'd circled, I grew more jittery and nervous. After the predictable upheaval around town regarding the new rings on my left hand, things had settled back down fairly quickly. Eric had been in my life in one capacity or another for a little over two years, and the little town of Bon Temps was used to seeing us together, so the latest development caused some titters, but not nearly as many as my original relationship with Bill. I'd told no one else aside from Sam about our next step, though. It was still deeply personal and until I was successfully pregnant, I didn't want to get everyone trying to mother-hen me, either. I was sure to get enough of that if I did end up knocked up.

Six days before the number I'd circled with a blue Sharpie, I went down to Walmart and bought a dozen ovulation predictors and six pregnancy tests. I'd never had to buy one before, and I averted my eyes from the cashier as she passed them over the barcode scanner and told me my total. She was thinking about how her period was late and she needed to pick up one of her own, and how she was hungry, and how she hoped she wasn't pregnant because her son was only six months old and she didn't think she could handle another baby. My face barely registered in her mind. She was operating mostly on autopilot, which was fine for me.

I went into the bathroom at the store, pulled one of the ovulation predictors out of the bag, and tore open the box to read the directions. Feeling mildly grossed out, I held the stick about where I assumed it would need to be and attempted to aim at it. And proceeded to drop it in the toilet because my hands were shaking.

I used the toilet brush next to the bowl to fish the damned thing out, tossed it in the maxi pad disposable, and took myself straight home. Once there, I waited a couple of hours and then followed the directions differently, instead collecting the sample in a little plastic Dixie cup. Then I dipped the stick and left it on the counter while I tided up the bathroom, pretending that I didn't want to stare at the little plastic cassette as it developed.

After the longest three minutes in history, I snuck a glance at the result window. Just the test line was showing. My heart gave a sad little flop in my chest. Though I didn't expect anything else, it was still a little disheartening. I threw the negative result in the trash, then set a daily alarm on my phone to remind me to take a test once a day. For the next four days, the process repeated itself. And then, on the fifth day, I glanced down as I brushed my hair, and there was a tiny, faint line. My chest seemed to fill with pressure, and I found myself smiling. Then I took a picture of the result and texted it to Eric. He replied with a smiley face followed by "See you tomorrow night."

I had the next day off, so I got up at 4 in the afternoon, ate some pancakes, and took my test. This time the second line slowed up strong and clear right next to the control line, and I could feel how wide my eyes got. I grinned despite myself, took another picture, and went to toss the test- then found myself wrapping it in a tissue instead, and tucking it away in an unused drawer. It was kind of gross, but I couldn't bear to toss this little sign of success away just yet.

The drive to Shreveport seemed unbearably long. Just when I thought I'd never get there, Eric's driveway came into my car's headlights and I parked in my usual spot. I slipped into his house and straight into his arms. He closed his eyes and kissed my forehead, then sniffed at me playfully.

"Well, you smell fertile."

I decided not to touch that one with a ten foot pole. "So, where's the... stuff?" I asked, curious.

"Oh, so you are here just for the sperm, not to see your loving husband?" he teased. He tented his fingers together under my butt and pulled me up, my legs wrapping around his waist as he lifted me and we sped through into the kitchen. To my great surprise, a flash went off and I stared, starry-eyed, at Pam, who was holding up a small, bright pink digital camera. Beside her stood a slim, dark-haired girl who I assumed must be Melissa. I was a bit shocked, because the girl was clearly Japanese. And here I'd wondered if we'd have yet another blonde hanging around... Pam smiled at me as I looked at her over Eric's shoulder.

"Hi," I said, not knowing quite what else to say.

"Hello, Sookie. Melissa, this is Eric's wife. You will treat her with the same respect that you afford my maker."

Melissa seemed anxious to meet my eyes as she looked up shyly. I pulled my hands off Eric's neck and he let me down, and I crossed the small room with my palm extended to her. Since she was newly turned, she placed her cool hand in mine and we shook. She was tall and very thin, oddly elegant; she reminded me of a ballerina. Her hair was pulled back in a tight bun, and it was so black it looked blue. Her eyes were wide and dark, as well. She seemed to analyze me for a long moment, then looked into my face.

"My mom's from northern Japan. She met my Dad on a business trip to London. Let's get the stereotypes out of the way, shall we? I don't like manga, I don't sing karaoke, I don't know any ninjas and I can't tell you what the kanji of your tattoo really means." Direct and to the point. She was Pam's child, all right.

"What about sushi?" I wondered, and she barked a melodic laugh and then stepped back, returning to Pam's side. "I didn't know you even owned a camera, Pam," I continued, searching for a new subject.

"Oh, I didn't," she replied lightly. "But this seemed a fitting occasion to document. A real, live, breathing, pregnant human! Well, part-human. This is going to be exciting. We must have a baby shower, being as you cheated me out of throwing you a wedding shower." She sounded legitamitely put-out about the fact, and I had to keep my own laugh in check.

She snapped another photo before I could blink. "These will have to go at the beginning of the album. You can look back at them when you're bloated and miserable eight months from now, and see how nice your body looked," she said gleefully, firing off another half-dozen clicks of the shutter. Eric threw his arm around my shoulder and posed, and I leaned against his far-larger frame. I wondered what expressions he was putting on.

After a few moments of this, Pam reached out, snatched Melissa by the hand, and called "Goodbye!" in a hurried tone as they strode out into the night. I turned and looked up in Eric's face for an explanation and found it quick as lightning. Though I'd felt his rising arousal, evidently he'd sent Pam a mental text-message to get out while we got down to business. He leaned down and gave me a butterfly-soft kiss to the lips, then asked, "Shall we?"

I nodded, mute with desire tinged with nervousness. He took my hand- such a human gesture- and pulled me along like a little boy excited to show off his newest pet frog or science fair project. We'd just barely shut ourselves into the chamber when his cell phone went off.

Instantly his gentle good-humor vanished, and I was reminded that the side of Eric he indulged with me was one very different from the polished, ruthless, and efficient Sheriff of Area 5. He had a clipped conversation, then shut his phone off and tossed it on the bedside table. He looked at me and his entire body- and his blood- relaxed. It was a relief, because the tension that had been broiling through him moments earlier had my adrenaline racing for fight or flight; I'd been absently twitching my feet and pulling at the hem of my shirt, and my fingers were still fretting at an errant thread. He let his frame fall onto the mattress and bounced, once, before taking my palm in his own and meeting my eyes.

"Bookkeeping issues at the club. Evidently we have another thief in our midst. Next week, would you assist me?"

"Of course," I said, a little bit pleased that he still felt he needed to ask. It was a sign of respect that I didn't want to let go unnoticed, and I knew just how to let him know it hadn't.

"Woah," he laughed softly as I drifted down his chest with my tongue. Somehow he'd lost his shirt as soon as he saw the look in my eyes. Clever man. "It's been a while, admittedly, but I am quite sure that's not how one makes babies."

The actual process itself wasn't too different from what we usually shared, and with the exception of his lightning-fast reappearance with 'the stuff' I wouldn't have said I felt anything any more spectacular than usual.

He pulled himself close around me, surrounding me with his body and letting his hands slip through my hair. Then he reached up and lifted my hind end in the air. I was too shocked to be annoyed as he held my body up at a 45 degree angle quite effortlessly.

"We have to elevate your hips for a couple of hours," he said wickedly. At my pointed stare of surprise mingled with disdain, he added, "What? I have Google, too. I did some research."

Deep down, I was happy he was so involved and seemed as excited as I was. Even if all the blood was now rapidly rushing to my head, and my ankles were tingling. We stayed that way for a long, long time, Eric feeling the need from time to time to keep me elevated while doing... other, happy, things. When I finally told him I was about to be a puddle on the carpet if he kept it up, his eyebrow shot up.

Again, he was defensive.

"The more orgasms you have, the better chance of conception. That's just scientific fact, lover."

He let up after a while, and I fell asleep in as normal a position as ever. A few hours of rest later, I woke up alone and assumed he'd gone to sleep elsewhere in the house to leave the bed warm while I slept. I gathered my legs beneath me and stood up- and immediately felt something I'd heard about but never actually experienced- the morning-after sticky walk of yuck. After all, I'd only been with vampires without a condom, and their... residue... wasn't anything like this. Gross.

I managed to shower and felt a thousand times better by the time I made it into the little kitchen to glance at a clock. Holy S. It was three in the afternoon.

I heated up a pint of chicken chow mein from his freezer- wondering if Pam had put it there- and then went into his library with my takeout container, a fork, and a glass of water. I walked the shelves until I found something in English- an anthology of Shakespeare, actually- and settled myself into a chair to wait for nightfall.


Link | Leave a comment | Share

Comments {0}