saturday night and the moon is out

[feel_human]

Tucked away off the road in Bon Temps, there's a road house. Warm light spills from its windows, and the sound of a jukebox playing drifts out into the muggy Louisiana night. The regular assortment of trucks and Hail-Mary-please-keep-this-lemon-goin'-just-a-little-longer cars sit in the dirt parking lot; what amounts to about half the town's small population... or, at least, of those of the 'drinking age and above' persuasion.

Inside, it's a bar of the type scattered all across the American South: homey, no-nonsense. Booths and tables. A man in a plaid flannel shirt wiping the bar; a crossdresser in the kitchen singing Gospel hymns and rolling his hips in time with the words just to scandalize the prep cook. A handful of waitresses, bustling about.

Sookie makes her way briskly through it all, a tray balanced on her palm and her eyes kept stubbornly front, as voices swarm around her. Aloud, and... less so.

...I’m just going to have one beer tonight Jesus one beer that’s all...

...better not gripe about me eating fries not after what I did for him last night...

...I cannot wait to get the hell out of this podunk town...

 

 "Well, make sure you do, and before it’s too late," she responds, thoughtless, to the young man. "Because every year you wait? You just get more and more stuck here. Believe me, I know."

He stares at her. So do his parents.

So does the other table. And she realizes, too little too late, that he hadn't said that out loud, not at all. She laughs, uncomfortable. "I’ll get y'all some ketchup," she says, brightly, and flees, ponytail swinging against the nape of her neck as she goes.

Stupid, Sookie, she chides herself. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

 

Comments

[feel_human]

Sookie smiles at him, and Sam Merlotte's glance tracks back and forth between them. "Well, you're right about one thing," he says. "This is a nice town. And we wanna keep it that way."

[gavemea_45]

"Of course you do," he agrees. He gives Sookie a quick answering smile, then says, "Sookie says you own this place. You must hear about pretty much everything that goes on around here."

[feel_human]

"I keep my ears open."

He watches as Sookie lifts her tray and goes off on a round of the dining room, his glance lingering on her retreating back. Even mad, she smells like sunshine and wildflowers and happiness, and he allows himself a deep, guarded breath before looking back at the newcomer. "For example, I heard you stayed at the Stackhouse place last night."

[gavemea_45]

"I did. Mrs. Stackhouse insisted," Sam tells him, watching the way he watches Sookie and putting the pieces together. "She wouldn't take no for an answer."

[feel_human]

"She wouldn't. Adele Stackhouse is a credit. She's a sweet, trustin' lady."

A gaggle of the town mothers come in for their glasses of chardonnay and potato skins, and he watches as they glance at Sam Winchester and whisper excitedly among themselves. Sam's jaw tightens. "She's got a lot of friends here. People who'd hate to think she was bein' taken advantage of."

[gavemea_45]

“Mm-hm. And you’d be one of them, I wager.” Sam keeps his tone mild, just as easy as before.

“I happen to agree with you, just so you know. She’s pretty amazing. I wouldn’t dream of taking advantage of her.”

[feel_human]

"Glad to hear it."

He doesn't trust this guy, with his easy smiles and the scent of the road and gasoline and gunpowder that's all over him. "And Sookie's not so alone as she might seem, neither. She's a special girl."

[gavemea_45]

Something hardens around his eyes, just a little, although he keeps his smile in place. “She sure is.”

Sam studies him for a second, trying to see if Sookie’s mentioned anything about last night.

“You often have her close up late and alone?”

[feel_human]

Sam cocks his head, then tosses his towel over his shoulder and leans on the bar, giving the guy a narrow-eyed look.

"What exactly are you tryin' to imply? I don't keep my staff safe?"

[gavemea_45]

“Just asking,” Sam murmurs, unfazed by the way Merlotte leans in. “Given the trouble in town.”

[feel_human]

"There's never been any trouble before."

He breathes, even, and controls his voice. "And no, I don't have them close up alone. I live right across from the bar. I'm the last one out, always."

[gavemea_45]

Something shifts in his glance, moving from subtle challenge to an instant’s realization. They must have missed by minutes having another civilian walk into the middle of the mess last night.

If he is a civilian. Sam eyes him a little closer. “Good to know,” he says, easily. “That you’re keeping an eye on things. And people. Like me, I guess. Saw you noticing that other guy last night, too.”

[feel_human]

Sam straightens and reaches for another glass to wipe. "Like you said," he points out. "This is my bar. It's my job to pay attention to who comes into it."

[gavemea_45]

“Mm-hm.” Sam draws an aimless pattern on the wood in front of him. “What’d you think of him?”

[feel_human]

Like hell is he going to tell this newcomer anything he thinks, and especially not about the thing that came in here the night before. No pulse. No breath. Smelling of graveyard dirt and blood. And –

His glance lifts from Sam and lands on the door, intent, just before it swings open to admit the dark-haired man himself. Bill, Sookie had called him, and all Sam's attention bends on him in the next second.

Bill's glance runs over them at the bar; there's a beat, and then he gives them a cordial nod and makes his way to an empty booth. In Sookie's section, Sam notes. "I think there are an awful lot of strangers showing up in town, all of a sudden."

[gavemea_45]

"Pretty bold," Sam mutters, ignoring Merlotte, his gaze on Bill. Every muscle in his body is tense. He sure as hell doesn't want to cause a confrontation here, not in the middle of so many people, and it's a sure bet the vampire knows and is taunting them. Him.

He tries to catch Sookie's eye, to see if she wants him to come be nearby.

[feel_human]

This is just perfect. Not only is everyone watching her, side-eyed, because of Jason, but first the Rattrays come back in, and then –

And then the cool bubble of Bill's silence falls over a booth in her section, and she turns to look at him, wide-eyed. He folds his hands on the table and meets her gaze evenly, calm.

She's not sure she's the one guiding her steps back over to him, though she knows he can't glamour her. All she knows is that when she gets close enough, the cacophony of the bar winks out into a silence so serene she closes her eyes for a second and just breathes.

A little more in control of herself, she opens her eyes and gives him a disbelieving look. "You got some nerve comin' back here, after last night."

"It was the only way I could think of to talk to you," Bill says, before his glance flicks toward the bar. "Alone."

[gavemea_45]

He's watching closely enough that he catches the vampire's glance in their direction. His jaw sets. "Make an excuse," Sam mutters to Merlotte. "Get her out of there."

[feel_human]

"Well, you better order somethin' if you wanna stay, though I don't there's anythin' we have on the menu you can have," Sookie tells him, with a flash of spirit.

Bill smiles, very faintly. "Red wine," he says, and she can't tell if she's more angry or scared or curious, but –

"Sookie!" She turns, startled, and sees Sam Merlotte gesturing to her over by the service alley. "Come give me a hand."

She glances back at Bill, who looks more resigned than surprised, then turns and heads for Sam, her ponytail swinging cheerily against the back of her neck.

[gavemea_45]

He stays where he is at the bar, waiting for Sookie to reach Merlotte so he can murmur a word to her next. Sam notes that the rude and annoying couple from last night's starting to talk to the vampire from their booth, and represses a sigh.

[feel_human]

Considering Sam doesn't have anything more he needs help with than just refilling the ice, which is plenty full, she can only suspect he'd wanted to keep her away from Bill, although what he thinks Bill will do in the middle of a crowded bar, she has no idea.

Finished with that, she comes back to the bar to pour that glass of red wine and a pitcher of beer for the Rattrays, glancing at Sam as she does. "I think he's tryin' to get under your skin."

[gavemea_45]

"Maybe. Doesn't matter," Sam tells her. He keeps his voice soft, barely audible. "You okay? What'd he say to you?"

[feel_human]

She doesn't have a good answer for his first question, so bypasses it entirely. "He said this was the only way he could think of to talk to me, alone."

[gavemea_45]

"Uh-huh." Sam reaches into a pocket and pulls out one of the thin plastic bags he'd prepared earlier. Metal glints as he palms it and passes it over to her. "Silver shavings," he murmurs. "Keep it handy. It'll break easy and give him something to think about, if you need it. Want me to come take up a table there?"

[feel_human]

She shakes her head as she pockets the bag. "Stay over here," she tells him. "If I talk to him, maybe we can find out a little more about what he's doin' here. And I kinda think he won't be so chatty with you."