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Yours, Mine, and Ours or The Van Helsing Stake	By : Beaverhausen13 Category: 1 through F > Friday the 13th: The Series Views: 549 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Friday the 13th: The Series. I do not own True Blood. I make no money from this.

Chapter List
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“Please be careful.” Jack implores us at the gate to the flight that will take us to Louisiana.
          “We will, Jack.” Micki says, slinging her carry-on over her shoulder.
          “No worries, am I right? We’re just getting another object back.” I chime, hefting my own carry-on, “And a 1,000 year old vampire has our back.”
          “I just hope that he remains trustworthy, Ryan. You saw how easy it was for him to glamour us.” Jack warns, “His powers must be unparalleled.”
          “Which must be why he didn’t get affected by the curse.” Micki says, “Not all vampires have to be evil, Jack. There are good and bad people. There can’t be good and bad vampires?”
          Eh, what Micki is saying makes sense. I felt no danger from Eric Northman. Jealousy, yes. I saw the way he and Micki were looking at each other. Even through the glamour I felt supremely jealous. So I’m not 6 foot a billion with piercing blue eyes; I love her, and we’ve been through a lot. I can’t help but feel territorial. And Eric Northman is prowling like a sexy, 1,000 year old panther all over that territory. I see the excitement in her eyes at being near him again and it sets the jealousy blaze into a whole new stratosphere.
          Micki’s travel outfit is rather becoming; she’s got on this mustard colored sundress, which will be appropriate for Louisiana in early April, where it’s supposed to be pretty warm. The yellow sets off her hair in such a striking way, I am overcome with all of those complicated feelings I have been suppressing for a year and some months. She is a vision of a being, a painting or a poem, or some other brilliant work of art. No wonder Northman’s so taken with her. I know I’m smitten.
          “I will cast a protection spell over the both of you.” Jack tells us, breaking my reverie, “Just in case Mr. Northman isn’t one of the good ones.”
          “He would have killed us by now if he wasn’t.” I say, then hear the announcement for our flight, “That’s us.”
          “Call me as soon as you get there.” Jack says to us as we make our way to the line at the gate.
          “We will.” Micki reassures him, “Goodbye Jack.”
          Our flight is pretty painless. Micki dozed on my shoulder for about an hour or so, and I just allowed myself to gaze at her gorgeous face for the duration of her slumber. My love for her makes me feel actual pain inside. I’m too chickenshit to actually do anything about it, though. She stirred close to the end of our flight, and now we’re landing and preparing to disembark the plane and see what awaits us in Shreveport. It’s around 9-ish at night when Micki and I make our way through the gate.
          Eric Northman and a woman who looks like a Barbie doll with permed blonde hair and deep blue eyes stand at the border of the gate, looking rather bored until they see us. Eric sinks into a leering grin as the blonde gives us a cold but approving once-over. “You’re right, Eric.” She says, “They’re delicious.”
          I shoot Micki a look as Eric greets us, “Micki Foster and Ryan Dallion, meet my progeny Pamela Swynford De Beaufort. Pam, these are the new owners of Curious Goods, nee Vendredi Antiques.”
          Pam looks us up and down, “A lady of looks, class, and style, I see.” She drawls at Micki, “Thank fuckin’ God. And you,” she turns to me, “Well, aren’t you just the cutest little puppy on Earth.”
          “Aren’t they just delectable?” Eric muses.
          “Well, you’re right; I wouldn’t want to kill them either.” Pam drawls in a bored tone, “There are too few *really* attractive people on this planet, it would be a cryin’ shame.”
          Micki and I are speechless, but I manage to break the spell, “Nice to meet you, Ms. Swynford De Beaufort.” I say, offering my hand. She places hers in mine and I lean down to give it a gentlemanly kiss. She grants me a superior but approving smile.
          “I was kidding you before about the accommodations; Pam and I rented you a car and the last available hotel room in Shreveport for your stay in our interesting Southern burg.” Eric smiles, leading us toward the baggage carousel.
          “What does ‘progeny’ mean?” Micki asks in a curious but conversational tone.
          “He’s my maker, beautiful.” Pam says to her.
          “Oh.” Micki responds quietly. I know this has got to be a little weird for her. I know it is for me. We’re working *with* vampires. They promised not to hurt us. And oddly enough, throughout all my apprehension, I believe them. Eric and Pam just want the stake gone. It radiates off of them.
          We retrieve our bags and follow Eric to the rental car counter and gather the keys from the attendant there. We’re then led to a mid-sized Buick in the parking lot, and Eric shoots us another impish grin, “Get in the backseat. Pam’s got your bags. I’m driving.”
          Pam becomes a blur and our bags disappear, along with the trunk slamming shut in what seems to be the same space of time, and just like that, she’s sliding into the front passenger seat. Micki and I comply and climb into the back. Micki’s hand grasps mine as Eric starts the car and moves us toward our destination.
          “So, what’s the plan?” I ask, “How do you want to do this?”
          “So compliant, I like it.” Eric laughs, “The fledgling, a speck named Billy Ray, lives in a trailer on the outskirts of Shreveport. He sleeps in a coffin in the back bedroom. We’ll show you exactly where. We want you to go there at high noon, open his coffin, and stake him. We have everything you need and will tell you how to defend yourselves. We will be forever in your debt if you succeed.”
          “If we succeed?” Micki asks cautiously. Her grip on my hand tightens.
          “Well Sugar, it’s not gonna be easy. Apparently that thing gives the little shit superpowers. We think he sleeps with that goddammed stake.” Pam says, rolling her eyes.
          Eric pulls into a colorful, themed hotel called the Fantasy Palace, “There’s some basketball convention going on in town, so this was the best we could do. We got you the honeymoon suite.” Eric deadpans as he parks the car, “Where’s my thank you, Ryan?” he shoots at me.
          I’m flabbergasted and don’t say anything as he becomes a blur and retrieves our bags from the trunk in the blink of an eye. Pam twists to face us from her place in the front seat, “That’s y’alls cues to exit.” She says, then she’s also a blur, standing in front of a door of a hotel room at the end of an open-air hallway. Micki and I grab our carry-ons and make our way to Pam and Eric, who is already opening the door and venturing inside.
          Eric wasn’t kidding about the honeymoon suite. There’s a giant heart-shaped bed in the center of the room, a couch/living room area with a TV and a couple of chairs, a huge jetted tub in the corner, and the color scheme is all red and purple.
          “I have to use the restroom.” I say as the urge hits me.
          “Ugh, humans.” Pam scoffs, “I think it’s through there.” She points me in the right direction.
          I do my business and make my way back into the room proper. Micki, Eric, and Pam are sitting in the living room area; Eric and Pam lounging comfortably on the couch as Micki sits a little stiffly in one of the chairs. I land in the chair next to her and grab her hand. She squeezes mine gratefully.
          “So how did this stake get cursed, anyway?” Pam asks us.
          “Our Uncle Lewis did it.” Micki answers, “Then he went back on his deal with the Devil…”
          “And we’ve been chasing down his cursed objects ever since he got dragged to Hell.” I finish.
          “How charitable of you.” Eric says, impressed, “So this kind of thing is normal for you, what you’re doing for us?”
          I nod, “We just want to get this thing back and safe from harming others. Once it’s in our vault, it won’t be able to hurt anybody else.”
          “They seem trustworthy, don’t they, Pam.” Eric says thoughtfully.
          “Sickeningly so.” She agrees, giving Micki a look that appears to be the pinnacle of approval for the icy Pam.
          “I am about to tell the two of you a few things that you are going to have to keep to yourselves. Consider it an addendum to my gentlemen’s agreement to protect you.” Eric says, leaning toward us, “Vampire secrets.”
          “If y’all breathe one word of this to anybody, I will personally fuck and eat the both of you with relish.” Pam oozes her threat, and Micki and I gulp.
          “Your secret is safe with us.” I rasp out.
          “Oh, don’t be scared, Puppy. I was just stating facts.” Pam rolls her eyes and shoots Eric a look, “Get on with it, then.”
          “Vampires have certain weaknesses; sunlight, wooden stakes or bullets, but our best kept secret is silver. It saps our power and burns our flesh. We have a few feet of silver chain that will help you get this stake of yours back from Billy Ray.” Eric explains, pointing to a chest in the corner, “In that chest you will find everything you’ll need, the silver and the stakes. Hopefully, the silver will render this little asshole powerless enough to give him the True Death and stop all these senseless vampire killings.”
          “The True Death?” Micki asks.
          “It’s hard to kill a vampire, Puddin’. The True Death is when a vamp dies for good. No re-entry.” Pam explains.
          “The Vampire Authority has granted me the execution sentence, but every time I go up against him we end up at a draw because of that goddamned stake.” Eric reveals.
          I am curious but I don’t ask. Vampire Authority? I suppose; if there are good and bad vampires in existence, then there’s probably a secret governing body. I just pray that Micki and I don’t end up on their radar or their bad side. It could mean curtains.
          “Well, y’all sure look cozy.” Pam comments, noticing that Micki has my hand practically in her lap, “Relax gorgeous, I’m on *your* side.” She says to Micki.
          “It’s just…taking a little to get used to.” I tell Pam, “The last vampire we encountered tried to kill us.”
          “But you’re here now, so obviously things worked out fine.” Pam drawls, “And bonus for us, y’all have experience in killing vampires. That’s gonna help.”
          “They smell delicious too, don’t they?” Eric adds, “Good and pure.” He smiles at Micki and I feel her soften.
          Is he glamouring her again? No, she gives me another fearful glance and squeezes my hand again.
          “We should make them ours while they’re here.” Pam comments to Eric.
          “Yours?” I ask.
          “Our humans.” Eric responds, “So no other vampires try to claim you. It comes with certain benefits and protections that you both would enjoy.”
          Vampires have this whole culture that I feel we’re barely scratching the surface of. Well, if it guarantees protection. Micki looks cautiously at me, then at Pam and Eric. “Sure, we’ll be yours, right Ryan?”
          “Yeah.” I agree, still not entirely sure what this means, “Does that mean that you’re ours too?”
          “Never, Puppy. You’re a meat sack. A cute meat sack, but a meat sack, nonetheless.” Pam retorts coolly, “I might save your pathetic little life, but I’ll never bow to you.”
          “Fair enough.” I reply.
          “Did you want to call dibs, or should we share?” Eric asks Pam as they stare us down from their lounging position on the couch.
          Pam smiles deviously, “Oh, what the Hell, why limit ourselves? We’ll share.” She tells Eric.
          In a lightning fast blur, Eric appears in front of Micki in the V of her legs and Pam materializes on my lap. Before we can recover from the shock, they’re gazing into our eyes and I feel that peaceful sensation come over me again as Pam’s deep blue eyes bore into mine.
          Eric slowly pushes up the skirt of Micki’s sundress, “Don’t be afraid, Goddess.” He tells her, fangs making a sudden appearance as he bites into her upper inner thigh. She gasps and lolls her head against the back of the chair.
          Pam strokes at my neck, “It’s just a little taste, Puppy.” She soothes me as her fangs display in her mouth. Terror is replaced with a calming sort of euphoria as I feel her bite into my neck. Oh, this is nice. I feel like I’m drifting on a peaceful raft in the middle of the ocean.
          “Mmm, goddamn she’s sweet.” Eric compliments as he raises his head up from Micki’s thighs.
          Pam breaks away from my neck, “So is he. Such a delicious little puppy.” She croons.
          Before I know what’s happening, Pam and Eric switch places. Pam is now kneeling between Micki’s thighs as Eric crouches beside me in my chair with my wrist in his hand. They bite into us again and I am back to feeling that dizzy, euphoric sensation again. Oh, this is blissful. I look over at Micki in my haze and can’t help but feel aroused at the sight of Pam’s head between her legs. I feel myself slipping further and further into this state, my vision tunneling as every cell in my body falls into relaxation. Is this what it’s like to die?
          Eric and Pam release us, stabbing their index fingers with their fangs and running their blood over our wounds. I watch in amazement as the fang marks disappear on my wrist and Micki’s thighs. “Well, that was a nice little treat.” Eric smiles at us mischievously as both Micki and I pant softly, “The two of you should probably pick up some B vitamins while you’re here. It’ll help replenish your strength.”
          We nod dumbly and I hear Pam snicker, “The Puppy’s excited, Eric. How fucking cute.”
          It seems like we all notice the tent in my lap at the same time. Micki looks away quickly as Eric and Pam chuckle at my attempts to tamp it down. “Impressive, but perfectly natural,” Eric acknowledges, “Though with this one constantly around you, I’m surprised it’s not a permanent condition.” He gently lifts Micki’s hand and kisses it, winking at her.
          Who’s to say it isn’t? I think to myself.
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Yours, Mine, and Ours or The Van Helsing Stake