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]

She rolls her eyes at Tara's griping and hangs up the phone, just as Dawn comes sauntering over, all glossy dark hair and swaying hips. But there's something uncharacteristically serious in her green eyes tonight, as she leans on the bar and looks at Sookie. "Mack and Louise Rattray are just about to sit down in your section."

Sookie closes her eyes. The Rattrays. Just what she needs.

Sam exchanges a glance with Dawn, then gives Sookie a steady look. "Don’t let ‘em get to you, cher," he murmurs. "They’re not worth it."

She gives him a bright, plastic smile, and turns in a swish of ponytail. Dawn's right: the Rattray's are taking the booth one down from the young man who'd just come in. That's a small favor, at least; she can deal with him, first. By now, hopefully he's had time enough to peruse the laminated menu tucked neatly between the napkin holder and salt and pepper shakers.

She comes over at a brisk walk, pulling out her pad and pen as she does. "Hi," she greets him, her voice sweet and clear with a Louisiana lilt. "Welcome to Merlotte's. What can I get..."

... There's something odd about him, the space around him strangely muffled. She frowns, shakes her head and smiles, self-deprecating, and soldiers on. "What can I get you?"

[gavemea_45]

"Hi," Sam says. He's not sure why she's frowning at him, but she shakes it off quickly enough, and he tries to make his smile friendly to counter whatever it was. Dean would already be giving her one of his lazy here-I-am-come-and-get-it looks, but Sam's pretty sure she'd just rather be left alone.

"Think I could get the cheeseburger and - any chance of swapping out the fries for the black-eyed peas? And a side of the, um, collard greens?"

It's the least fried thing on the menu, anyway, and he knows better than to order the chef's salad in a place like this.

"With a beer, please. Thanks."

[feel_human]

"Sure thing."

He's got kind eyes, and his hair sort of flops over into them. She'd be willing to bet Dawn's eating her heart out right now, not getting a chance to sink her teeth into this out-of-towner – but taking him would mean taking the Rattrays, too. And that's not a deal anyone would want.

She smiles a little at his accent. "Not from around here, huh?"

[gavemea_45]

His smile turns a little sheepish. "Guess it's pretty obvious, huh."

[feel_human]

"Well, I know everyone in town," she tells him, smiling back. In contrast, hers is bright and friendly. "So – "

"Hey!"

She almost jumps clean out of her skin at the rapped word from Mack Rattray, who's leaning over the booth seat to glare at her. "You ever comin' to take our order?"

Sookie's smile doesn't dim, but something about it turns plastic and forced. "Right with you," she says, sweetly, and gives her customer an apologetic glance. "I'll get that order right in for you."

[gavemea_45]

Sam gives the rude jerk a pointed look and turns back to the waitress. "No rush," he reassures her. "I'm not in a hurry."

[feel_human]

She presses a smile onto her lips, professional and nowhere near her eyes, and nods to him before taking the few steps needed to put her at the Rattrays' booth. She injects forced cheer into her voice and smiles at them. "What can I do for y'all tonight?"

Mack leers at her, lounging in the booth, the brush of his thoughts like feeling something slimy grab at your ankle beneath the water. - wrap your sweet lips around my slim reaper that’s what you can do -

"How 'bout we start with a pitcher of Bud?" he says, grinning at her. She breaks off eye contact and looks at Denise, who's busy glaring. - God she’s pathetic like a dog that’s been kicked too many times -

"Onion rings," Denise says, slow and deliberate, like she's not sure Sookie can understand. "With mustard."

She takes a breath and plasters her smile back on her face. "Comin' right up," she says, and turns in a whirl.

Denise looks at Mack, not bothering to lower her voice. "I think she’s retarded."

[gavemea_45]

Sam scowls. Sounds like the two at the booth next to his are just about perfect for each other. From the way the waitress had reacted, they're local and like this all the time, too.

[feel_human]

She fumes all the way to the service station, then breathes deep. "Cheeseburger, with a side of black-eyed peas and collard greens," she tells Lafayette. "And onion rings. And if you drop a few of those on the floor, I won't mind."

He winks at her, and she heads to the bar to collect the pitcher and pint from Sam, then lifts her chin and straightens her shoulders, like she's going into battle, her smile as immovable as armor.

She sets the pitcher and glasses on the Rattrays' table, not meeting either of their glances, and moves with relief back to the tall young stranger. He must be Hoyt's height, at least, she thinks, with some internal amusement.

Her smile relaxes as she comes beside the table. "Here's that beer for you," she says, setting it down. "Havin' a good night so far?"

[gavemea_45]

"Thanks," Sam tells her, smiling back. "Pretty good so far, yeah. You've already spotted me for a stranger, so I guess it doesn't hurt to ask - there a motel around anywhere, or am I going to have to backtrack to the highway?"

[feel_human]

"There is, yeah. Myrtle Creek? If you take a right on your way back out, you'll find it in about a mile. Or Shreveport's pretty close."

She can just about see Mack Rattray's ears perking up as he listens in, and can't quite hide her grimace at the direction his thoughts have taken. Easy money, he thinks, while Denise freshens her lipstick and thinks sour thoughts.

[gavemea_45]

"I appreciate it, miss--" His eyes flick to the nametag and back to her face, quickly enough so that it doesn't look like he's staring at her chest. He hopes.

"Sookie?" He says it like 'cookie' with an S and hopes he's somewhere in the neighborhood, at least.

[feel_human]

Her grin flashes out, free of restraint. She'd been right, before; there's a sort of strangeness to the space around him, but after dealing with the Rattrays, it's downright pleasant. Kind of relaxing, even.

"That's right. Sookie. Sookie Stackhouse."

[gavemea_45]

She's got a really pretty smile, he notices. He can't not.

"Nice to meet you, Sookie. I'm Sam. Winchester," he tells her, and doesn't let himself think about how not using false ID'll make it easier for Dean to find him... if he wants to.

[feel_human]

"Well, hi there, Sam Winchester."

Her smile only gets bigger as he introduces himself. "Just so happens, my boss is a Sam, too."

She nods over at the bar, where the shaggy-haired man in a checked shirt leans, watching them. She doesn't appear to notice how his gaze lingers on her as she turns back to Sam, the customer. "Maybe I oughta give you a discount."

[gavemea_45]

"I'd've thought you'd charge me double, given that it's your boss." Her boss who's watching pretty closely, Sam can't help but notice that, too. Waiting to see if he's going to start trouble, maybe. He does his best not to let it show that he's caught it.

[feel_human]

She laughs, just a little. "Nah," she says, loyally. "Sam's a nice guy. And it's a nice name," she adds, grinning at him.

"Well... anything else you wanna know? I've lived in Bon Temps all my life. I can tell you about just about anythin' in it."

[gavemea_45]

He ducks his head, smiling shyly down at his beer.

"Anything I should know? If I were gonna stick around for a couple of days?"

[feel_human]

"Um – " When he smiles, a dimple tucks into his cheek. "Well – "

She's smiling, herself, almost as bashfully as him. "There's a... a real nice swimming hole nearby. And the town center's real pretty, especially this time of year. There are some historical sites, back from the war..."

She casts about, trying to think of something, anything, that might entice somebody to stay who hadn't already put down roots, and has to laugh at herself. "But it's... it's a pretty quiet place, Bon Temps. I guess there's probably not much here you'd be interested in."

[gavemea_45]

"Hey, quiet's worth a lot," he protests. Even though most of the small towns they'd been in were anything but, not everywhere's like that, right? "And I happen to like history."

[feel_human]

"Well, there's plenty of both, here."

For most people, anyway – which is when it hits her like a bolt out of the blue: quiet. It's quiet. She doesn't know if he's lying or not, if he really means to stay, what he wants to know.

She can't... she can't hear him. Not clearly.

It just about knocks her flat onto her ass, and for a second she just stares at him, her smile evaporated into astonishment.

[gavemea_45]

She's looking at him in shock, but he has no idea why. His expression turns uncertain.

"Was it something I said?"

[feel_human]

Her mouth opens, but she has no idea what to say. How is it possible, what kind of miracle –

"Don't mind Sookie none, mister." Mack Rattray leans back over the booth divider, ugly yellow teeth bared in a conspiratorial grin. "She's crazy as a bedbug. Allus has been."

Embarrassed color floods into her cheeks, and she turns, all confusion. "I'll just – I'll go check on that burger for you."

[gavemea_45]

"Don't believe I asked your opinion," Sam retorts, coolly, staring the guy down as Sookie retreats. "Can't see that it's worth much, either."

[feel_human]

Mack's grin fades and turns into a scowl. "Yankee," he grumbles derisively to Denise, as he slinks back into his booth seat.

For her part, Sookie's catching her breath by the bar, her mind awhirl – for once with her own thoughts, more than anyone else's, until Lafayette dings to bell. "Order up," he calls to her, then peers past her into the bar. "This for that tall drink of water? Oh, he cute."

Sookie draws herself back together and gives him an exasperated glance as she collects the plates. "Oh, button it, Lafayette."