Viking Invasion (A Collection of True Blood Ficlets)

Fang Bangers Anonymous

A/N: A/U Human Tara/Vampire Eric

Tara questions Eric's intentions ...The pretty bartender is having a hard time adjusting to her relationship with the vampire sheriff.

Song: Nothing Even Matters  - By Lauren Hill and D'Angelo

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TARA POV

"I can't see you anymore..." I murmur at him through a clenched jaw. Finding courage deep within me, I look up and straightened myself.

He didn't respond.

Instead, he brought his hand up to the back of my neck and brought my mouth to meet him; he gave me a kiss that dreams were made of. Urgently his mouth roved rough kisses, hungry and demanding. I could have tried to protest, but that would be useless due to our blood bond. Eric can feel most, if not all of my emotions. He knows how his kisses make me feel, how they make me lose all sense of control.

Crap on a cracker!

Only my blood can match the heavenly intoxication of our lovemaking. And that fact alone makes him drunk with lust. I had to force my lungs to breathe. When I came up for air he smirked. His icy blue eyes glimmered with amusement, my brown eyes warily peered back.

"I wanna know Eric...Do you want to date me or own me?"

"Why does one have to select the other?"

"Because I don't want to be nobody's damn pet!"

I'm protesting a tad too late. I already feel like his pet.

Owned...

Kept...

We've been 'dating' for seven months and ever since week two, the tall blonde vampire insists on buying me things. Really expensive, fussy things.

Things I don't want, need or even ask for. I'm totally okay with the lovely flower arrangements, thoughtful cards, and delectable chocolates. But that's not enough for the Viking Sherriff. I own more clothes, shoes, and lingerie now than I've ever had in my entire life. Now, I own lots of things I wouldn't ever have owned if not for Eric Northman.

"Tara." He whispers, his raspy voice incites everything deep inside of me. "I have watched humans for over a thousand years. It is my understanding that attraction begets dating and eventually dating becomes ownership."

He made a good point, but he'd talked or kissed his way around this topic more times than I can count. Bottom line... There are things that need to be said and things that need to be understood.

"Eric, I'm not a damn fang banger. I'm not just a snack and a roll in ya bed." I looked him square in those big blue eyes, daring him to say otherwise.

"Min Vackra." He purrs, his thumbs drawing lines on my cheekbones. "I knew that the moment you opened your mouth to introduce yourself."

He's referring to the time I had to go to Fangtasia to rescue my drug-dealing cousin. I found out Lafayette was in the Vampire Sheriffs' wrathful custody by word of Eddie, the dejected, lonely vampire. Eddie gave his highly addicting and very illegal life force away in exchange for meaningless affections from my oversexed kin. I was able to convince the vampire Sheriff that he'd tortured and traumatized Lafayette enough and demanded that he set him free.

Eric agreed on one condition.

And here we are...

"Does that mean that you respect me? I hope more than those thirsty trollops that worship you."

I come to Fangtasia on the nights I am not bartending at Merlotte's to see the same old shit. Needy bootlickers who make fools out of themselves for Eric. The worse thing about it, he has to entertain that shit. He makes a fortune off the desperation of humans.

"Of course Tara, though that does not say much. I have no respect for them whatsoever.

You... you definitely have my attention."

"Why?"

He seemed to be sincerely considering my question.

"Many reasons lover. The most reflective of them is that you aren't frightened of me. It's been a very long time since a sensible human has looked me in the eyes."

"Well you can be awfully scary, but you're right. I'm not scared of you, never have been."

"That pleases me, Tara. You please me...Are you no longer pleased with me?"

"That's not my issue, but like a skilled carpenter I prefer to measure twice and cut once."

He smiled at my synopsis. A wholesome honest smile. I can't explain why my heart races when this happens. I suppose because it's so rare. So damn handsome too.

"You didn't answer my question beautiful one. Are you pleased with me?"

I didn't dare answer that rabbit hole of a question. I'm in control here. The big sexy vampire doesn't control me or my actions. That may be the case with other women, but not me.

No sir!

Before I could utter my signature sassy comeback and possibly get some of my lingering questions answered. It was as if kismet had other plans, plans to shit all over my plans. Pam, Eric's Prima Donna of a progeny, vamp sped into the office. And even though the door was shut, she barged her nosy ass in any way.

"Eric..." she clipped, sounding annoyed as if she was the one being interrupted.

Standing at the entrance as if posing for a picture, her hand on her hip, and her perfectly arched eyebrows raised in derision.

"Not now." We both piped in unison.

"You asked me to tell you when Roman arrived," she drawled, all the while giving me the death glare.

She didn't understand how I'd acquired and retained Eric's undivided attention for so long. He grasped my hand and led me to the bar, ordered a drink for me, they tended to his business. Eric and I shared lusty glances back and forth across the bar as he conversed with a hearty-built, dark-haired vampire. I rolled my eyes and scoffed as he kicked his legs free from two dreadfully sycophantic patrons.

How had I let this happen?

I'm sitting here dressed in a tiny, gold, strapless dress, gold strappy platform pumps, my hair, professionally styled, and my makeup flawless while waiting for a vampire to finish talking to another vampire.

Does this odd nightly ritual represent something?

Once the blood bond wears off is it over between us?

What the fuck do you get a thousand-year-old vampire for his birthday?

Do vampires celebrate birthdays?

Damn...

These are things a woman needs to know.

But goddamn if I can get him to tell me. When we're alone, we never seem to get much talking done. And I know by the way he's looking at me right now, once we leave the club tonight, he's gonna rip this dress to pieces to get to me. He'd follow me off a cliff just for a taste of my blood and sex. And all I can do is sit here and wait for it.

I wonder if there is such a thing as a Fang bangers Anonymous.

I obviously need help.