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That's Not My Name	By : marksandspence Category: S through Z > True Blood Views: 6314 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I have not created the True Blood (credit to Charlaine Harris & Alan Ball) or BtVS universes (credit to Joss Whedon) and do not have any claim on the characters other than the ones I have added. I make no money off of these stories.

Chapter List
- 13
- 14
- 15
Author’s Note: For those of you that are a bit weary of WIP stories, I wanted to give you a feel for where we are. I would say that I am about halfway through the events of the story, perhaps a bit less. So I am thinking there will likely be ~30 chapters total. Lots of action still to come. And more plot (vs. strictly relationship stuff). As always, would love to have your comments (marksandspence@yahoo.com).

Chapter 14
Sometime later, in Eric’s bedroom, Peia is straddling Eric on the bed, sitting tall with her shoulders back, her pelvis moving rhythmically, her eyes closed. She feels a pair of cold hands take luxurious hold of her breasts; it takes her a minute to realize these cannot be Eric’s hands, as his are still planted on the sides of her hips. Her eyes flash open.
“Hello, Pam,” Peia says calmly as Pam rests her chin on Peia’s shoulder, continuing to massage her breasts from behind. Pam climbs on the bed and positions herself behind Peia, placing her knees on either side of Eric’s legs.
“Glad you made it back okay. Fucking idiots from the AVL finally left last night.”
“I hope they behaved themselves,” Eric responds, protectively.
“Just trailed me. Threw me off my game, but no damage done.”
“Did Nan return?” Eric asks.
“No. Why?”
“Just wondering what she was told.”
Eric moves one of his hands from Peia’s hip to Pam’s leg.
“Care to join us?” He asks suggestively. It has been a very long time since he and Pam have shared a woman, something they used to do on occasion back in the day. Although an unusual request after so much time, he finds himself quite intrigued by the idea of having both his girls in bed with him.
“I’m good, thanks. Someone has to work in this family,” she responds, happy for the attention, but having long ago put aside any interest in a sexual relationship with her maker.
With that, she touches Eric’s hand briefly before climbing off the bed.
“You kids have fun,” she adds as she heads out the door.
Peia and Eric resume fucking in earnest.
*
Sometime later, Peia climbs out of bed, Eric apparently asleep. Slipping on a t-shirt, she leaves the bedroom, walks over to what would be the kitchen area and takes a drink from the faucet. She then finds her bag, pulls out a pack of cigarettes and lights one. After a minute, Eric appears in the doorway, still naked.
“Clothes?” He says with mild indignation.
“I do believe I have been naked for over 24 hours now, so it may just be time to get dressed.”
He walks toward her, stopping to lean on the couch a few feet away.
“I know you have been naked for 24 hours, but the way I see it, clothes are still very much optional.”
“I need to get some food,” she admits.
“Ah. Maybe later? Maybe tomorrow?” He asks, like a little boy hoping to get an extra treat.
“You don’t want me wasting away to nothing, do you?” She replies, smiling.
“I think we have some time before that happens,” he replies, giving her an appraising look.
“What’s that supposed to mean??” She asks with mock incredulity.
“As the kids say, you still have some junk in your trunk.”
She shakes her head and laughs, grabbing a magazine from the counter and throwing it at him. She then turns to the slide and slaps her butt, saying “Gotta have some cushion for the pushin’.”
Eric grins, amused. Peia used to think he looked odd when he smiled – eerily reminiscent of The Cheshire Cat. But this time, it seems natural and consequently almost human.
“Seriously. I need food. And something besides water from the tap.” As she says this, her hand goes reflexively to her neck and the quickly fading bite marks.
“I suppose I should check in with Pam. In case there has been an apocalypse or something,” he relents.
She looks as if she is about to say something, but then stops herself, unsure.
“What is it?” He asks, curious.
“Should I get my own place?” She asks nervously, completely unsure what answer she is hoping for. Pam has her own space; is her place in the family different?
“Why?” He responds, a bit surprised.
Peia glances over her shoulder at what would normally be the kitchen. There is a counter and a sink, but nothing else.
“You don’t have a real kitchen. There’s no refrigerator or microwave or range. You don’t even have any cups.” She explains, careful to keep her observations non-critical.
He steps towards her, stopping a few inches away. She looks up at him, expectantly.
“We can get cups,” he responds, the implication clear.
She nods and leans in to press her face against his chest, careful to keep the hand with the lit cigarette off to the side.
After a few minutes she says, without moving away, “I need to go to New York for a couple of days. I need to take care of a some things.” Now that I am staying, she thinks, but does not say.
He tenses slightly at this, despite himself.
Recovering, he responds calmly, “Of course. But wait a few weeks. It would be unwise to travel so close to our encounter with the AVL. They may interpret it the wrong way.”
She pulls back slightly to take a drag from her cigarette before answering “Sure.” Nothing is time-sensitive. Nyack can wait.
**
The weeks go by quickly and without incident. Nan does not return to pester them. Peia attempts to settle into her roles — bouncer at the club, assistant to Pam, girlfriend to Eric (?). Pam delights in having someone to pass off any jobs likely to involve dirt or mess of any kind. Peia likes to feel useful, so she does not object.
In the days leading up to her trip to Nyack, Peia has taken to spending the early evenings at Sookie’s house, sunbathing in the backyard. The intention partly to shift her schedule such that she can be alert in the daytime during her trip. It is around 7pm this particular evening and she and Sookie are lying next to each other in adjacent lounge chairs in bikinis. Sookie sits up and grabs a sweatshirt from the ground and wiggles into it.
“You know, you’d probably get more color if you got here a little earlier. Like maybe mid-afternoon,” Sookie observes after glancing over at Peia’s still very pale skin.
Peia reaches down into her bag and pulls out a bottle of sunscreen, labeled SPF50. Holding it up for Sookie to see, she replies, “I’ve got very sensitive skin. I just like the feel of the sun.”
“Sure. And I guess no need to worry about skin cancer with that stuff.”
“You don’t mind that I come here, do you?” Peia asks a few minutes later.
“Not at all. I like the company now that Tara left town.” It is especially nice to have a human friend who is also dating a vampire, she thinks to herself. “And it is technically Eric’s house now,” Sookie adds with a mildly annoyed tone.
Not long ago, when Peia had stopped by Merlott’s to make sunbathing plans with Sookie (Eric had suggested the house as an option), Jessica pulled her aside.
In a hushed voice, full of concern, she said to Peia, “Do you know why Eric bought Sookie’s house?”
Peia knew exactly what she meant and why she felt the need to say something.
“I do,” Peia responded confidently, although in truth she hadn’t been entirely sure until Jessica brought it up.
“Doesn’t it bother you?” Jessica asked with perplexed curiosity.
“A couple of weeks ago, Sookie came to Fangtasia. I don’t remember the reason. But the minute she walked through the door, I could feel Eric’s attention move from me to her. I was suddenly invisible. In those few moments, instead of jealousy, I felt relief. Like I could finally take a breath. Does that make any sense?”
“I guess,” Jessica responds skeptically. “If it were me, I think it’d make me want to scratch her eyes out. Or punch him in the nuts.”
Trying to explain, Peia continues. “Do you know what people with chronic pain will sometimes do when their meds stop working? They hurt themselves – smash a bone or crack their head – to distract their brain from the other source of pain and get the endorphin rush from the new injury. The problem is, it’s a temporary fix because they don’t learn to deal with the original pain, so it lingers, waiting for their attention. I don’t want to open up a new wound. Knowing how Eric feels about Sookie takes the pressure off.”
Back in the present, Sookie, having already brought up Eric’s name, cannot curb her curiosity, asking casually “So how are things going with Eric?”
Peia smiles before responding, “It’s sort of what I imagine an arranged marriage is like. We’re getting to know each other.”
Sookie scrunches up her face. “Well, that’s kind of weird thing to say. An arranged marriage?”
“Oh, that reminds me. It’s mani-pedi Tuesday – I need to make an appointment for us all tonight. ‘Tooth and Nail’ now serves cigars and martini’s. To us anyway. Which makes it the best!nail!salon!ever! in my book.” Peia reaches in her bag for her phone. While she makes the call, Sookie gets up and pours them a couple of glasses of iced tea. And then she starts in again with the questions.
“Why would you call it an arranged marriage – didn’t you move here to be with him?”
Peia’s phone beeps, saving her from having to answer that question. She looks at it and exclaims, “Nice.” She waves her phone at Sookie, explaining, “Centurian just came in from Netflix. Eric has this home theatre on the second floor of his townhouse. I’ve been getting movies – apparently he and Pam could never agree on anything to watch so I’ve become the arbitrator. It’s fun. Usually I get to just pick what I want.”
“Back to…” Sookie starts to say, but is interrupted by a loud voice in her head. Up to this point, she had been consciously trying to block Peia’s thoughts out of respect for her privacy. But her curiosity was starting to get the best of her and she had decided to not try quite so hard. What Sookie hears is Eric’s voice saying “Come.”
Peia jerks at the same moment.
“What the hell?” Sookie asks, confused.
“You heard that?” Peia responds.
Briefly flustered, Sookie explains “Didn’t anyone tell you that I hear people’s thoughts, like, constantly?”
“Uh, no.”
“Really? Because its kind of a thing that people talk about.”
“Well, nobody said anything to me,” Peia says, sounding annoyed and hoping that this will distract Sookie enough to forget about Eric being in her head.
“Wait a minute – what was that? I just heard Eric’s voice in your head.”
Again with the not being able to lie very well on the spot, Peia just goes with the truth.
“Eric is up. He wants me to come home. If he is up before sundown, we usually watch a movie or fool around.”
“But he’s not telepathic last time I checked. I mean, I’ve only ever seen Pam and Jessica…[realizing something] wait a minute…. Are you a vampire now?”
“Sookie, note the giant yellow orb in the sky and my not bursting into flames right now. I’m wearing a bikini.”
“Right. And I can hear your thoughts.” She explains, “Vampires are silent to me.”
“So that settles that.” Peia says as she gets up and starts pulling some clothes over her swim suit.
“Hold up, sister. That still doesn’t explain how he is in your head.”
Peia thinks a minute and decides that coming clean with Sookie is probably not the worst thing in the world. “I guess I am some kind of freak hybrid. Eric tried to turn me and it didn’t work. I have some sort of other magic in me or something.”
“When?”
She could lie, of course. She could say it was last week. And yet, the truth instead.
“When I was here with Spike.”
Sookie gasps audibly as she holds her hand up to her mouth.
“Lets not make a big deal of it, okay?” Peia adds, not wanting to delve into the emotional implications of all this. She starts walking away. Sookie jumps up, following her.
“I can’t believe Eric did that,” Sookie gasps.
“Really?” Peia asks skeptically.
“Ok, I guess I can believe it. Still.”
“I don’t want to talk about it right now. Lets leave it that Eric and I have a blood connection and that explains what you just heard,” Peia says decisively, clearly wanting to stick to the facts.
“So are you okay with this?” Sookie asks quietly.
“How else can I be?” Peia shrugs. “Maybe I’ll see you tomorrow,” she adds as she gets into her car and then quickly drives off.
“It’s starting to get a little crowded here in freaktown,” Sookie sighs under her breath.
**
Peia arrives at the townhouse and as she passes between the inner door and the bedroom door, she decides to stop at the sink to fill her water bottle. She stands there a minute, taking a long sip, knowing that Eric will not usually venture out from the bedroom until sundown. She wonders if it was a mistake to be so open with Sookie.
Will she tell Bill? Should I warn Eric? Does it matter? In some ways, it was a relief to tell someone.
She hears the shower go on in the bedroom and ventures in after dropping her bag on the couch. She sits on the edge of the bed, deciding not to join Eric in the shower; he likes the smell of her skin when she has been in the sun. Caught up in her own thoughts, she doesn’t hear the water stop and so is startled when Eric suddenly appears next to her. He turns her slightly so he can wrap his arms around her shoulders and sniff the skin of her neck.
“Sunbathing again?” Before waiting for an answer, he says “Don’t wear so much sunscreen next time – too much coconut.”
“If I don’t wear sunscreen my skin will be crispy and that won’t be fun for anyone,” she replies, always a tiny bit bristly when he tries to tell her what to do.
“You are spending a lot of time with Sookie,” he observes without judgment.
“Don’t you think it is probably a good idea for me to get to know her?” Peia responds, giving her tacit approval.
Eric takes this in for a moment. Had he been that obvious? Someone must have told her. And is she really offering to be his ally in this? After a fleeting shiver of excitement at the thought of having it all, another unfamiliar emotion grips him. Why would she be so willing to share him? Feeling conflicted, he decides to skirt the issue for now, responding neutrally, “who you decide to befriend is your own business.”
After planting a quick kiss on her shoulder, he stands up and starts getting dressed.
“You have been feeling better, yes?”
Puzzled about his meaning, she replies, “How do you mean?”
“Fewer tears when you are away. Sometimes none.” Eric has appreciated her attempts to hide the tears from him – he has little patience for such displays.
“Oh that.” She feels embarrassed. Silly to think she could fool him. But does he really know why? She smiles awkwardly.
“Better?” He asks again, knowing she understands.
“Yes,” she answers with a more genuine smile this time.
“Would you mind if I returned to sleeping in my coffin? I feel more secure inside. Perhaps force of habit.” He had been a bit nervous about bringing this up. But he had been feeling odd lately. Not quite himself. Moody, even. He attributed it to lack of rest. The bed was fine for fucking and lounging, but something about the open air of it kept a part of him on alert when he was supposed to be resting. At least that was his interpretation. So now that she is feeling more comfortable and perhaps less in need of his presence in the bed…
“Oh,” she is surprised by the question, so it takes a moment to process.
“The coffin is actually right under the bed – it slides in and out, so I would not be far,” he offers, concerned about her reaction.
“No, it’s totally fine. I hadn’t realized…do what you need to do. Sleep is sleep,” Peia answers, honestly.
Eric just nods with a quick “Okay,” relieved that she does not appear upset.
- 13
- 14
- 15
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That's Not My Name