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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
- 24
- 25
- 26
Chapter 25
“Last night, you mentioned that Godric had few words to say about his Maker. What did he say?” Peia asks Eric after the body has been taken away and dealt with.
“That she abandoned him too quickly, like a discarded toy. He did not understand at the time what she wanted – what he had failed to give her,” Eric replies.
“He was different with you?” Peia guesses.
“Yes.” Eric says decisively, a warm smile emerging.
“I don’t think I’ve seen him. In the visions.”
“Shame. But what you saw was from my living mind – there were only a few seconds to recall.”
It was never clear whether she would have seen more, had the drug not worn off. She thought about trying it sometime, though with some trepidation considering Eric’s rather bloody history as a vampire.
**
Weeks pass, and the memory of their night with Mina dissipates too quickly. The eruptions of violence against humans have become more and more difficult to prevent and/or cover up. Eric and Bill have been working closely to hide the events from the AVL and investigate the source of them – who were these vampires who refused to even try to cover their violence? Unfortunately, too much time was spent putting out fires and too little on investigation, so their progress has been slow.
Peia, for her part, has been doing her job, as it is, to help prevent the violence and has developed a fairly keen sense of where to look and of whom to be suspicious. Eric has chastised her on more than one occasion for taking too many risks and showing, as he called it, ‘unwarranted confidence’. He did not like how carelessly she seemed to minimize her own vulnerability – she was not invincible, not nearly. So why did she act so? The true answer was perhaps too distressing to contemplate, so he focused on the proximate one, making a point to catch her off-guard and physically illustrate her weaknesses. Humbling as it was to have Eric throw her against the wall and demonstrate how easily it would be to rip her head off, it also awakened a keen desire to avoid such demonstrations, leading to greater vigilance and tactical expertise. Which, in turn, elevated her confidence, much to Eric’s chagrin. Still, she had been invaluable to the task at hand, putting a friendly human face on the battle against violence – an example of human-vampire cooperation, at least from an outsider’s perspective.
Soon, however, the forces behind the violence began a campaign (or so it seemed) to paint Peia as a rogue vampire hunter in order to stir up discontent amongst the locals. Bill had come to Fangtasia to discuss this latest issue and what to do about it.
Entering Eric’s office, Bill heaves a heavy sigh at the sight before him. Peia is on her knees, going to town on Eric’s cock. They had actually toned it down, lately, what with all the chaos. Certainly in terms of intimacy during “business hours”. But Peia had just witnessed Eric hand down some serious justice on a bunch of non-human trouble-makers and it had left her with a crazy intense desire to suck him off.
Eric is leaning back against his desk, his eyes half-closed, emitting the occasional soft, guttural whimper of approval. Seeing Bill, he turns his head,
“You have to let her finish. She is so fucking talented at this. Seriously, you cannot pay for a blow job this good,” Eric pleads.
At first, Bill just turns his head with an eye roll. But then his expression takes a more sinister turn as he pointedly glances back toward Peia’s head bobbing up and down.
“Perhaps I would not have to pay for a blow job that good.”
Peia feels Eric tense. And other things lose their urgency. This is a game they play, Eric and Bill. Bill’s way of taking revenge on all of Eric’s threats to take Sookie away from him back before he became King. The situation is unclear now – Eric is older, but Bill has authority over him. Eric has always downplayed his feelings for Peia in front of Bill as a prophylactic against this kind of emotional blackmail. Like a game of chicken.
Peia pulls back and stands up, muttering, “way to kill the mood, my liege.”
“Perhaps another time,” Eric responds ambiguously.
Picking up on his lead, Peia responds, “Not going to happen. Eric likes to believe he can make me do stuff, but he really can’t. I wouldn’t recommend trying to force the issue,” she says, clicking her teeth together. Eric gives her a subtle nod.
“In any case, we have some business to discuss,” Bill says, shrugging off Peia’s comment.
Peia moves to pick up her jacket on the table, saying “And that is my cue to leave. I am going to go masturbate now and just so we’re clear, I won’t be fantasizing about either of you.”
“Peia, I would like you to stay,” Bill insists.
With an “oh shit” expression, Peia glances over at Eric while setting her jacket back down on the desk.
“This isn’t about the horse on the Langon Estate, is it? Because despite what ol’ Lang says, I was NOT going to steal his horse. I just wanted to see if I could ride and carry my axe at the same time – just a little proof-of-principle thing. I was totally going to leave him in that field after,” Peia blurts out nervously.
Smiling awkwardly, Bill responds, “not about a horse. Rather, there has been some talk amongst the vampire community, questioning Peia’s purpose. Though I understand that most of the injuries and unfortunate deaths of non-humans were justified, many are worried that she has become a bit of a vigilante.”
“So you would like her to do her job less well?” Eric snides back.
“It is more about perception – they see her fighting vampires and they do not consider that she is acting in defense of the humans being attacked. Whoever is spreading this idea is alleging that protection is merely a excuse to perpetuate violence against them,” Bill explains.
“What, like I hate all vampires? But that’s ridiculous,” Peia responds, frowning.
“Not necessarily to those who are not local to Shreveport or frequent visitors to Fangtasia. Sadly, they are playing on old fears – of Slayers and the like. It doesn’t take more than a possible grain of truth stoke these fears,” Bill explains.
“And we cannot afford more chaos,” Eric adds, acknowledging the problem.
“I see this as just a PR problem. This is the Internet Age – we just need to advertise my true fang-banging nature. We should make a sex tape.”
“A sex tape?” Bill repeats.
“I was referring to me and Eric, just to be clear. Yes, we make a tape, leak it to the internet and voila, everyone in our little sphere of influence knows we are together and I don’t, therefore, hate vampires.”
“I thought online amateur pornography was outlawed – the Indecency Act has been in place for years now,” Bill counters.
“Trust me. I know places we could leak the video where it would be adequately circulated before being pulled for indecency. I can code it as text – I have permission to publish verbal smut. Usually throws the spybots off the trail for a few hours at least. And luckily, there are few videos and much demand,” Peia argues.
“No objection from me,” Bill responds.
“Better to just lay low for a while. I’ll have Pam take over human protection,” Eric responds.
“You’re joking, right? Pam on human protection?”
“Pam is perfectly competent.”
“Competent, maybe, but her heart wouldn’t exactly be in it.”
“Then I can find someone else.”
“Why don’t you want to make a sex tape? You’re not bashful,” Peia asks, genuinely confused.
“Quite the opposite,” Bill interjects.
“Everyone gets to see your hotness, exhibiting your considerable sexual prowess on someone like me. Everyone gets to see me thoroughly enjoying it, loving that vampire lovin’. It’s win win.”
“Sexual enjoyment does not necessarily preclude violent prejudice,” Eric counters.
“Perhaps, but it would go quite a long way to convince the rather base-minded vampires out there,” Bill offers.
“I do not think this will solve the problem,” Eric says.
“But I don’t see why we don’t try – it is the lowest risk of any of the options,” Peia pleads.
“No.”
“What are you afraid of?” Peia asks.
In the brief pause that follows, Bill looks intently at Eric, then glances over at Peia. You can almost see the wheels turning in his mind as he considers what might make Eric hesitate to engage in this plan of action. Seeing this, Eric responds with utmost egoism.
“I did not wish to hurt your feelings, but as it is clear you will likely not let this go, I will state my objection. Although you have certain attributes, which are clear to me, that make our continued interactions pleasurable, others viewing such a tape would likely get the wrong idea. From a physical standpoint, you are not up to my usual standard and I would not want to give false hope.”
Bill shakes his head in disbelief at Eric’s unlimited ego.
“What? You are embarrassed to be seen fucking me?” Peia says, voice incredulous.
“Not embarrassed. It is simply a practicality. I would not want Fangtasia to be inundated with a swath of sevens and eights, when I rarely settle for anything less than a ten. It would be disruptive.”
With flared nostrils and wide eyes, Peia takes a couple of deep breaths before responding. She reaches for her jacket.
“Thanks for clearing that up. Now if you will excuse me, gentlemen, I am going to take this “7” to a gay bar, where I guarantee you, I will not pay for a drink all night. And Eric, don’t wait up.” Peia continues to mutter obscenities as she stomps out the door.
After she leaves, Bill turns to Eric.
“You know you will pay dearly for that?” Bill says with bemused sympathy.
Eric shrugs and with practiced indifference responds, “plenty of flesh in the sea.”
Bill shakes his head. “Just take her off the streets until you come up with another plan. We cannot risk losing our local support.”
Eric nods.
Bill quickly adds, as he heads toward the door, “I will be leaving town for a couple of weeks next month – hopefully less, but at the least, I must attend a regional AVL meeting in Savannah. I will be back in touch with detailed instructions for my absence.”
As soon as Bill leaves, Eric sits down and rubs his eyes, letting his head rest in his hands for a moment. How has it come to this?, he wonders. He hates the thought that she is angry with him. More, he hates the thought of a lonely bed. Even for one day. But without her, the bed is lonely, no matter how many others are in it. All to save face with Bill. All to avoid anyone knowing the truth. Including Peia. How to make it stop?
*
A few hours later, Peia emerges from No Girls Allowed, pausing in a nearby alley to light a cigarette. After a moment, she says loudly,
“It’s okay, Eric. I know you’re there.”
Eric jumps silently down from the top of the building. There is only one lesbian bar in Shreveport, so it is not a surprise that he was able to guess where she went. She looks at him a moment, sensing something different.
For the first time in recent memory, Eric had sought out a drunk to feed on. He wanted to increase the confusion in his head and perhaps cede some responsibility for his behavior. It did help a bit.
“So did you bring me a present?” Peia asks, almost playfully.
Eric shakes his head.
“Good. That means you didn’t talk to Pam. Listen, I’m not mad. Not really. Honestly, I don’t really fancy seeing myself having sex on video either. I’m just not used to such brutal honesty. I wasn’t sure how to react. But I don’t really care. It’s all superficial shit anyway.”
She says this mostly without looking at him, focusing more on the cigarette and giving him only passing glances. But when she is done speaking, she focuses on him, leaning back against the brick wall of the building, his head resting pathetically. He suddenly looks like a lost puppy. A lost, anguished puppy.
“It was not honest.” He forcibly pushes the words out like a confession. “I do not want anyone else to see you.”
“Are you drunk?”
“I have had a drunk or two.”
“Then don’t say anymore. Lets go home.”
Her heart is beating fast, the panic coming quickly. He doesn’t move.
“I do not want anyone else to think of you that way. To see what I see. That is the truth.”
Peia clenches her jaw as she attempts to convert her fear and panic into anger.
“You told me once you were not I interested in my love. Is that still true?”
The word crawls out from his throat, “No.”
Her fists clench involuntarily.
“That is so much worse,” she responds as she turns and walks quickly away.
*
By the time Eric makes his way back to the townhouse, Peia is already there. He skulks in to find her setting up a video camera in front of one of the couches in the livingroom. She looks up and gives him a weak smile.
“What is this?” He asks, his heart sinking, fearing she is planning on forcing the issue.
“I thought of a better way. Instead of filming us having sex, we are going to film us having an argument.”
“An argument?” Eric responds, curious.
“A domestic sort of argument. The kind of argument that couples have all the time. About ridiculous things that everyone will instantly recognize as being an absolute indicator of a normal relationship.”
“What do people in normal relationships argue about?”
“You know – you’ve watched enough television. We can just make it up as we go. I am happy to play the shrewish girlfriend. All the vampire guys out there will instantly empathize and we’ll be in the clear.”
“I can do that.” Eric concludes with some relief. “So we pretend we are going to make a sex tape, but then start arguing and ‘forget’ to shut the video recorder off.”
“Perfect.”
“This could work.”
“Ready?”
Eric flops down on the couch. Peia fiddles with the camera and sits back down. Commence scene. Eric leans over for a kiss, but after just a few seconds, drops his fangs and heads toward her neck. Peia pushes him away.
“What is the problem?” Eric says, acting annoyed.
“You went straight for the neck. What about foreplay? We were only kissing for a second.”
Eric makes a point of rolling his eyes.
“Fine,” he says as he pointedly slips his hand under her shirt.
“Not that kind of foreplay. Whisper sweet nothings in my ear.”
“Seriously?”
“Come to think of it, I do not think you have ever once told me I looked beautiful. Or complimented me on my looks. Do you think I’m prettier than Pam?”
[It is getting difficult to say this without smiling.]
“That’s my phone. Hold that thought.” Looking at a blank screen (hidden from the camera) “I invited Isabel to join us – she says she could be here in ten minutes.”
“Are you kidding me? Aren’t I enough for you? Besides, I thought we agreed that if we had a threesome, it would be boy boy girl. And the other boy will be human. Because I like sweat.”
“When did we decide this?”
“Remember, when you wanted to bite me “down there” and I said okay, but only if…”
“And what’s to like about sweat? It smells.”
“Are you saying I smell?”
“It wouldn’t kill you to wear a bit more perfume.”
“Oh, like that hoochie at the club you snack on when you think I’m not watching? Don’t think I don’t smell her on you.”
“It’s only about the blood with her, you know that.”
“Maybe. But I think we should be monogamous. With sex and biting.”
“But I get so hungry.”
“I’m right here, big boy. If you want it regular, you gotta put a ring on it.”
Etc. etc. etc.
Heh.
***
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That's Not My Name