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]

Lafayette comes swanning out of the kitchen, do-rag slung over his shoulder like a braid, and reaches past Tara for a glass. "Don't let her scare you off, big man," he drawls, letting his heavily-lashed gaze drop and climb slowly right back up the newcomer, and makes a sound of approval. "Mm."

Tara scowls. "Bitch, get outta my bar."

"This ain't your bar," Lafayette tells her, breezy, and drops one lined and sparkling eyelid in a droll wink at Sam.

[gavemea_45]

"I don't scare that easy," Sam says, amused. It's been a while since he's been flirted with quite that hard, but it's not like it bothers him - as long as people don't think he's dating his brother, anyway.

"So is this your bar?"

[feel_human]

"White boy, do I look like my name's Sam Merlotte?"

Unlike Tara, his question is all sly amusement. He tips a healthy measure of vodka into his glass and sips at it. "You look like your name is Liberace," Tara grumbles, but the heat's mostly gone out of it.

Lafayette ignores her and holds out one graceful, perfectly manicured hand to the newcomer. "I'm Lafayette. The cook. This sour-ass over here's my cousin, Tara."

[gavemea_45]

He laughs and shakes hands. "Nice to meet you, Lafayette. I'm a Sam too, but my last name's Winchester."

"Cousins, huh?" he asks Tara.

[feel_human]

She scowls at him and folds her arms over her chest, aggravated. Lafayette rolls his eyes, exaggerated, and winks once more.

Over on the bar floor, Sookie goes from table to table, her ponytail swinging cheerfully. Tara keeps a sharp eye on her, on the times when she frowns and rubs at her head, or startles, flustered.

She doesn't straighten from off the back counter until Sookie heads back to the table with that dark-haired newcomer once more, her smile shining out like sunrise as Tara's worried scowl deepens.

[gavemea_45]

Sam gives Lafayette a quick grin and takes a swallow of his beer. As he notices Tara's deepening scowl, he follows her glance and looks back.

"You know that guy?" he murmurs.

[feel_human]

"No," says Tara, aggravated. "But I don't like him."

"You don't like anyone," Lafayette points out, but she shakes her head.

"He gives me the creeps."

[gavemea_45]

Suspicious of the world or not, Tara's got good instincts. The problem is they've also got no reason to trust him, and he's already seen how well it went to try to advise Sookie.

"He seems a little weird."

[feel_human]

Tara snorts, but she doesn't relax until the dark-haired newcomer reaches for his wallet and takes out a couple of bills. "Looks like he's headed out, at least."

He's waving off what's apparently Sookie's attempt to get him his tab or change, standing up from the table. Tara doesn't like the look on Sookie's face as the guy gets near her, but at least he's on the way out.

[gavemea_45]

"So it does," he murmurs. Although how much good that's going to do if he's laired up near Sookie's place, he's not sure. Still, it's something.

Arlene hurries over and hisses at Lafayette, "I've got orders. Are you gonna be much longer?"

Sam lifts his drink to them all. "I'll get out of the way and go see if I can get in on the pool game. Looks like it could be fun to try."

[feel_human]

Lafayette lifts his own glass in a toast, and nudges Tara. "Better get them pitchers goin'," he murmurs, as he slides past her and sashays back to the kitchen.

On the floor, Sookie lifts a hand in farewell to Bill, who strolls as calmly out of Merlotte's as he had stalked in. There's a moment where she stands, eyes closed and frowning like she's trying to focus, before she opens them again and slips back into motion.

Tara sighs, but at least that's nothing new... exactly. "Here." She shoves a pitcher of beer Sam's way. "Take this over with you. Arlene'll be all night gettin' to it."

[gavemea_45]

"You got it." He hefts the pitcher to her in silent thanks and heads for the end of the pool table where the construction workers are huddled. "Hey, guys - Tara sent this over," Sam says, friendly-like. "Can I get in on the game?"

He decides it's probably best not to run the tables - not since he's going to be around for a while. Still, there's nothing wrong with making back a little bit of cash, and it gives him a reason to stick around and keep an eye out.

[feel_human]

Without Bill, the bar seems to expand like a mouth to swallow her up. Her defenses are in ruins, and she spends the next hour or so in a haze of confusion, trying to keep what people are saying and what they're thinking straight.

At least Sam seems to be doing all right; when she looks over, she finds him playing pool with a bunch of guys from Jason's road crew. No Hoyt or Rene tonight, but she knows the boys he's playing with, and they're mostly a good bunch.

Sam Merlotte comes back in after half an hour or so and busies himself with stocking drinks and wiping down tables; Tara meets Sookie's eyes and gives her a meaningful glance that Sookie opts to ignore. Is it her fault if Sam's got his feelings hurt?

[gavemea_45]

He keeps an eye on Sookie and another on the time. It’s about forty-five minutes before closing, as close as he can estimate, when he bids the guys farewell and goes across the floor to catch her.

“Hey. Figure I should probably head out,” he says, softly. “But - before I do, you’ve got a safe way home, right? I know you do this all the time, but still.”

[feel_human]

She's alerted to his arrival by the relaxing muffled bubble around him, and so turns to him with a smile. "You're sweet," she says, pleased and a little amused.

What on earth he thinks could happen to her in Bon Temps, she has no idea, but he's sweet. "My car's just out back, and I go straight home after closin', always."

She puts as much assurance into it as she can. "No need to worry, Sam. You have a good night, and I'll talk to you tomorrow, okay?"

[gavemea_45]

“I’ll call you in the morning,” he promises. She’s determined enough that he decides against floating the idea of seeing her off, and instead goes to his backup plan. “Good night, Sookie. See you tomorrow.”

Sam gives her a bright smile and heads for the front door. It won’t take too long to ride out, wheel the bike back, and find a place to hide and wait.

[feel_human]

"Night, Sam."

She watches him go and doesn't realize until she's turned and caught Sam Merlotte's eye that she's got a private little smile tucked into the corners of her mouth.

Well, and why not? Maybe she'd always thought she'd never find anyone to spend some time with, but isn't it nice to think she might have been wrong? Is it so awful to enjoy the attention of a handsome young stranger?

She avoid Sam's eye and bustles through last call with renewed vigor, then does her prep work with even more than characteristic efficiency. It's been a night, and she's tired, and her mind is already buzzing with plans for the next day. She wishes a good night to Arlene and Dawn as they head out, then ducks out the back door before Sam can catch her for the chat he so clearly wants to have.

She leaves him to Tara's tender mercies. That oughta be plenty distracting.

[gavemea_45]

He can almost hear Dean’s voice as he wheels the bike into the trees and eases it back toward Merlotte’s. Careful, Sammy.

He’d better be. There’s no visible sign of the bloodsucker, but better safe than sorry. Sam spends a half-second wishing for the kit in the Impala, then sets about finding everything he can just in case.

He sneaks back to the vantage point he’d spotted and settles down to wait. Once Sookie gets safely on her way, he can follow at a distance until she’s even safer inside her home.

[feel_human]

She breathes deep of the muggy night air as she steps outside. It's full of all the scents of home -- damp earth and the nearby creek and summer flowers -- and she feels better in the next moment.

And, all in all, it wasn't such a bad night, plus there's the fun of all the anticipation for tomorrow morning. So she's smiling as she heads to her car, keys jingling in her hand.

There's no warning. She's alone, and then, in the next second, Bill's there, a cold silent bubble around him. Sookie startles, badly. "Bill!"

He doesn't answer, just paces towards her. She takes a step back, then another, and finds herself backed up against her car. "You scared me. Where the heck did you spring from?"

[gavemea_45]

"Get away from her, bloodsucker, right now."

He puts every bit of deadly threat into his voice that he can, gun leveled and ready as he steps out of the shadows. He'd hoped to keep this from Sookie, but there's no chance of that now.

"I know pure lead's not a big problem for your kind, but I'm packing more than that. Step back."

[feel_human]

"...Sam?"

She stares at him over Bill's shoulder, her eyes huge and confused. Is that a -- what's he doing with that gun in his hand? What in heaven's name is going on?

Bill doesn't turn, or even stiffen, though his glance slides sidelong, and then -- she doesn't understand how it happens, can't even see it happening -- he's standing alongside Sam, and his fingers are curled around the barrel of the gun. "I think not," he says, almost conversational, and twists his wrist, sharply.

[gavemea_45]

The son-of-a-bitch is strong, not that it's a surprise. The cords stand out along the side of his neck from pain and effort as the vampire wrenches the gun from him, but he'd come as prepared for this as he could.

Sam flicks his wrist, dropping the spring-loaded silver knife from its hidden sleeve sheath, and rips it along Bill's arm where he's left it open by grabbing for the gun, then across his middle before the other can recoil. He jerks back, placing himself between the vampire and Sookie, knife solidly in his grip now and his other hand holding the canteen he'd slung at his hip earlier.

"I said, back off!"

[feel_human]

She claps a hand to her mouth as a blade flicks into existence and Sam swipes with it, leaving a slash in Bill's arm and another across his stomach. They smoke, of all things, and she sees a few dribbles of dark blood, molasses-thick, soak into the fabric of his shirt.

But it's what she sees when her gaze lifts to her face that makes her own blood run ice-cold. He's glaring at Sam, his eyes cold as winter, his skin pale in the dark, and when he opens his mouth, she sees two neat, gleaming fangs that have dropped to replace his incisors.

Bloodsucker, Sam had called him. "Oh, my God," Sookie says, faint, unable even to realize she's taking the Lord's name in vain. Is this why she couldn't hear his thoughts? She feels sick.

Bill's glance shifts to her, and she sees his nostrils flare, as though he can scent her on the breeze. There's a moment, and then -- it seems to take some effort -- he retracts his fangs and straightens. "Silver," he says, contemptuously. "You certainly are well-prepared, Mr. Winchester."

[gavemea_45]

"Damn right." It's too late to do anything but wish that he'd used a false ID after all. Hopefully none of this'll get back to Dean or D-- or John; hopefully his screwups won't cause them any trouble, whether or not he survives.

"I didn't come here looking for any of you. But when I saw you homing in on her-- no way was I just gonna stand by."

Lower, he adds, "Sookie, just stay behind me, okay?"

[feel_human]

Sam's back is a tense wall in front of her, and Bill -- Bill is -- "What is goin' on?"

She looks from one of them to the other, her back still against her car. "Vampires? And... what are you, some kinda vampire... hunter?"

Bill narrows his eyes, his glance dropping briefly to the canteen in Sam's hand. "You misunderstand my interest in her," he tells Sam, then looks over Sam's shoulder at Sookie. "I did not come here to harm you, Miss Stackhouse."