21Hello Paric shippers,
First of all let me say thank you to every single one of you that has took the time to read, review, follow and favorite…it really means a lot to me. So here we go with the six installment…and finally we get some romance…but will it last…hum…maybe…maybe not…we also get a flashback to a younger Pam…again sorry for mistakes in everything English (grammar, spelling, and all that jazz) I don't own anything if I did, a lot of things would have been different…a lot….a lot, a lot…
Chapter: 6 lying, Shopping, and kissing oh my…
"This is civilization to you." Pam wrinkled her nose at the suburban village. She could never imagine living in a place like this. It lacked something besides it smelt of fish. Plus they had literally walked out of the woods into the small village, and because it was so late it seemed almost dead.
Pam looked dubious. "Eric, are you sure they're going to have a place for use to spend the day?"
"In places like this, there are usually guest houses. I remember passing by some on the west side of the village."
Half an hour later, plodding up a cobbled road, Pam felt tired. She imagined Eric felt the same; even those he refused to admit it, but the truth was neither of them had been prepared for this, despite past intimate experiences with fleeing. The night was passing into the early morning hours as they finally reached a wooden carved sign advertising guest houses for rent. Hopefully, the owners would have one available.
"If anyone asks, we're tourists and our car ran out of gas." Eric said softly watching as Pam gave him a 'really' look. But he just put it down as weariness. She was probably using all her energy to stay awake and walking. And the sliver, drugs, and raising sun didn't seem to help matters.
Turning onto a plot of land that had a series of separated cottages, Eric trudged up to the main house and taking a deep unneeded breath, knocked loudly on the door. Of course Pam seemed content to let him do all the work.
A man in his late sixties poked his head out with an angry scowl on his face. In a displeased voice, he asked Eric what he wanted at so late an hour. Behind him, he could make out a woman, his wife, standing in a robe and nightdress, standing curiously. "I am so sorry for waking you, sir, ma'am, but we desperately need some help. You see, we're tourists and our car broke down on the side of the road. We didn't know if anyone would pass us and our cell phone died. We've been walking through the woods since early evening yesterday and were hoping for the use of one of your guest houses. We can pay extra for inconveniencing you. Please." Eric looked pleadingly at the man and his wife.
The man looked suspicious, not at him, but as his eyes found Pam them seemed to soften, and Eric supposed that there attire or lack thereof might have caused questions. He was shirtless with dirty black pants, while Pam wore the rumpled dress shirt, which was covered in blood and mud and hung just above the parts no one needed to see. However it seemed to work in their favor as the wife seemed more worried about them.
She shouldered her husband out of the way and looked sympathetic at their obviously tired faces. Eric kept an apologetic smile under his disheveled appearance. The woman's hands fluttered as she spoke rapid-fire Swedish. Her husband continued to eye their clothes distrustfully.
Seeing this and stepping up, Pam placed a hand on Eric's back and flashed her charming grin, smoothly speaking perfect Swedish. "Please, if it isn't too much trouble? My fiancée is understandably tired and has been caring me because of an injury. We apologize for the inconvenience, and will willingly pay extra for the trouble." She said softly, looking up at him affectionately. "I'm sure this was not what he was expecting when I told him we were going to Sweden for our anniversary."
Eric, bordering on desperation, tried not to react. Instead he wrapped his arms around her so she could lean against him.
The woman produced even more exclamations of apology and sympathy, looking at Pam's unruly apperence before barking to her husband and gesturing. Turning to them, she explained that her husband would at once show them to a guest house and call a doctor.
Eric interrupted with the explanation that he himself was doctor and that all he needed was rest. But he thanked the woman sincerely and continued to lean on Eric as they followed the woman's husband who held a pair of keys in his hand. "You know I have forgotten how sexy it is to hear you speak my mother tongue," Eric observed quietly, clutching her hand.
"I'd do anything to impress you, my dear fiancée," Pam murmured in Swedish.
"And you do it oh so very well," he purred in her ear, and if Pam's heart still beat it would have skipped.
Once they arrived at the small house the man entered and watched as the two stood there at the door. "Well are you two coming in our not." He asked and looking at each other the duo walked inside. It was small with a tiny living room, a bedroom, and a bathroom but it was just what the two needed. They couldn't sleep in the bedroom, but they could rest in the ground. "Will that be all?" the man asked, and Eric turned to him with a sly smile "almost." Eric added as he allowed his fangs to snap down.
Hour Later
With a soft growl Eric rose up from his place on the floor with the older man. He had allowed her to go first; knowing she needed more than him and that his arm was healed he was fine. Biting into his thumb he brushed his blood over the bite marks allowing them to heal, before sending him away. Closing the door he turned looking for Pam, but she wasn't in the living room. Walking toward the bedroom door that was adjure he opened it slightly and what he saw made him smile.
She was fast asleep stretched out and tangled in the blankets that had once lain perfectly. Walking over he sat down beside her and brushed his hand over her still dirty and blood hair. The conversation in the woods replayed in his mind. Unbidden, a smile came to Eric's lips. Pam loved him, truly; since that night in San Francisco. But truth is that wasn't the first time he had seen and spoke to his spitfire.
London Christmas Eve 1894
Eric sat in the corner, perfectly happy to play his part as the strange foreign man. He knew no one at the party knew him, but none of the high social classes were willing to admit, and he only expected out of boredom and finding a lovely snack. A few brave souls had approached him over the course of the evening, trying to start up a conversation but he always managed to offend them. Not that it was hard when they were all so painfully dim-witted but he knew he probably shouldn't take so much pleasure in cutting them down so mercilessly.
It didn't take long for word to spread that the Swed in the corner had had too much to drink, causing him to develop a harsh tongue. He knew he should be upset at the fact people would whisper it only feet away from him but frankly, being alone was fine by him. Because at the end of the night all of their ladies were going to be in his bed and there blood on his lips and the though alone made him smile.
So, Eric sat, pretending to drink his wine, but when the door open again sending a chilly blast through the room. Internally he cursed at whoever had entered, clearly very late to the party. "Sorry, old chap," the intruder said to the host, "We got caught up in the storm but Isabel insisted we come, refusing to turn back."
Eric knew the man respond kindly but heard not a word of what he was saying as his eyes found the two beautiful women lagging behind. One was older in her 30s her blond hair was pulled up in an up do that drew attention to her neck and her cleavage that was covered by the blue fabric. But even those she was quite a looker, his eyes were glued to the young woman who must have been their daughter. She was… was… Eric knew the word he was searching for beautiful but it wasn't enough.
She had large, inquisitive eyes, the most captivating shade of blue. She was looking around the room, but instead of having eyes bright with excitement, they seemed sad as if she didn't want to be there. She had wonderfully long eyelashes, something he had never before noticed on a woman. They were a shade or two darker than her hair and framed her jewel like eyes magnificently.
Her hair was blonde, shimmering curls pulled up on her head. Eric noticed there were a few flakes of snow still sticking to her hair, melting quickly in the warm room. Her cheeks were flushed, whether from the cold. She was offering a small smile, her lush, pink lips pulling up delicately at the corners. All of a sudden her attention was claimed by the man she was with. Her father, Eric decided as he took in the age difference.
She was young early 20s and late teens but this man was going grey. Something about the man made Eric's eyes narrow, and it was because from the way the young girl held herself she was afraid of him. But even so something about the way she held herself told Eric she was intelligent, her back was straight, head held high so she could take in the world around her. Most ladies would have been embarrassed, since every man in the damn place was staring at her, mostly fixated on her rather generous bosom, securely strapped under her dark red dress but evident none the less.
Slowly this time her eyes danced around until she found his. Her blue eyes were piercing, staring into him, that fake smile still dancing on her lips. She paused for a fraction, inclining her head and
Eric realized he was the only man who received this treatment. He smiled back softly before he realized he was also the only man who was still staring at her, everyone else had gone back to their conversations, keeping one, very subtle eye on her. But Eric didn't care. He knew people were watching him and his attentions to this woman but he couldn't, as per usual, find it in himself to care.
She had stood there beside her father as man after man approached talking, laughing, eyes dancing as they smiled down at her. But the young girl didn't seem amused at all; in fact she looked down right bored. And from her father's just as unamused glare he gave her slyly this was her normal.
Then without warning the man she was with started escorting her toward…him. Acting more out of instinct than anything else, he stood up, plastering a smile on his face. "Mr. Gregory De Beufort, may I present to you, Mr. Eric Northman," the host said, his voice confident but there was an edge, as if he was worried something might go wrong.
"Mr. De beaufort," Eric said stoically, nodding his head in the other man's direction.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Northman. I heard you where the gentleman that bought Wallington's estate he was sealing. That is just a little ways from my own home." The man added, but Eric couldn't help but pull his eyes away from the older man to the striking beauty beside him. "oh where are my manors…May I introduce my daughter, Miss Pamela Swyanford De Beaufort," the elderly man said, his clear eyes, and a less startling shade of blue than his daughter.
"Miss De Befourt," Eric cooed, accepting her hand. He raised it carefully to his lips, never breaking eye contact with her as he brushed his lips over her knuckles gently. As he did so, he was pleased to watch her breathing hitch, her smile faltering for a second, exposing something else entirely.
"It's lovely to meet you, Mr. Northman," she said quietly, a cautious smile appearing on her lips. Taking it as encouragement, Eric smiled softly at her, dropping her hand gently, pleased when she didn't quite let go as quickly as he did.
They chattered for some minutes, her father, Pamela's father, questioning him about some of the work he had been doing but Eric knew he'd never remember the things they spoke about that evening, only that her eyes lit up as he spoke, trying his hardest to discard his thick and brutish accent. She asked inquisitive questions, her head cocked elegantly to the side as she did so. Her eyes shone as he answered before she countered with an even greater question.
Eric was right, she was intelligent, a free spirit trapped, and from the way her father would squeeze her arm painfully when she said something he didn't like, let him know he was also right about the father and it actually made him mad. Especially when he went on to apologize for what she had said about not wanting to get married. Soon after her father was swept away and he watched as she walked over to the table grabbed a glass of wine and disappeared out the small side door.
Sitting down his glass he followed her out stay a little distant away, but quickly she turned to see him standing there. He could feel the tension pouring off her. It was as if she had never had someone stare at her so intently before it even made her cheeks flush. "I apologize about what happen back there," she said softly her head tilted down in shame.
The act was far from the feisty spitfire he saw in her. "Why are you apologizing," he asked a soft smile on his face. "There is nothing to apologize for." He stated which caused Pamela to sigh and turn her head away from him, as she started to walk again.
"The way I acted," she muttered as she pulled her arms up almost as if she was protecting herself. "It's just…I hate when he leads me around like I'm some meat he is trying to sale," she paused letting out a sigh. "I feel powerless."
"I see." He say's motioning to a small bench that sat underneath a large willow tree. "But you don't want that….is there a reason?" He asked walking beside her. Again the girl paused like she didn't know how to answer the question.
"If I marry I want it to be on my terms not on his…not for money or fame…but for love" she said and Eric couldn't help the smile that pulled at his lips. Glancing over she smiled "Are you married Mr. Northman?" she asked and watched as his smile grew.
"No, Miss Swynford De Beaufort." He formally addressed her and watched as she bit her lower lip and listened for him to go on with his answer. "I have met and courted a lot of young woman, but never have I found one that truly peaked my interests, well until tonight." He stated giving her a tooth grin.
"You can't be referring to me," she stated brusquely. "I'm a mess and I hold my tongue for no one." She paused searching his eyes for a cringe or maybe even a look away, but it never came. His blue magical eyes never left hers and his smile never faded.
"Hmmm," He ponders her ramblings putting his long finger to his lip. "Yes, you might be all those things, but your also insanely addictive, beautifully intense, you love passionately, and you have power inside you." He said his voice soft and full of sex watching a listening as her heart started to race and cheeks that flushed.
So when his large hand reached up tucking her hair behind her ear, Pamela couldn't stop the chill that ran down her spine. "You like are nothing like these silly woman that would be oh so happy to marry and bear children," He indicated as he allowed his hand to rest against her cheek.
"Yes, well most men see that as willful and unappealing, a disaster waiting to unfold." She stated sadly as her eyes dropped and she pulled away from his touch, but he had other plans. Taking her face in both his gentle gloved hands, he brushed away a stray tear that Pamela hadn't even realized she had shed.
"You are a disaster," he cooed offering her a soft smile. "A beautiful disaster." Shaking his head at the memory he couldn't help but wish he hadn't glamour her that night. But even those she didn't remember him he watched her from afar.
Sighing he hated to wake her, but he knew they couldn't sleep in the small cabin. So he scooped her up and walked outside. He had been in the area a very long time ago and new that there was a set of deep caves not far from there little house, and with his strength back it wouldn't take much to use his speed to get them there.
Laying her down on the soft dirt, he delicately perched on the other side of her and stretched out his legs, back against the cold stone. Rolling his head on it, he allowed his eyes to gaze at Pam, sleeping peacefully mere inches away from him. He spent many nights simply watch her unguarded, but somewhere along the way he lost that.
Every emotion he had felt these last few days settled into one content ball inside, warming his cold blood. Eric took a small breath, gazing at her and lowered his face, allowing his eyes to search her face for any movement before gently brushing his lips on hers in a feathery touch. The resolved feeling in his cold heart grew stronger and Eric could admit it now. That he had known Pam's feelings, that he felt the same way, but they were both to stubborn to admit it. He couldn't help but wonder what had caused there falling out.
His heart tightened. Pam had been incorrigibly, irreversibly in love with him, and he allowed his feelings to be blinded by stupidity, and now even if she did feel something it was shielded because of the pain he had caused. Pulling away, Eric smiled softly down at the sleeping woman, marveling at how clear his world had become since he had left the hell that was Louisiana behind. Whatever happened in the future, he was glad she was there, at that moment, with him.
The next night Pam found herself refreshed and in better sprits as she allowed the warm water to rush over her dirty blood stained body. The pain from the sliver still lingered in her but thinks to the older gent she was feeling back to her normal snarky self. "You know I never realized how long it takes you to shower until I had to wait." Eric called from the other side of the curtain causing Pam to smile.
"I'm giving you five more minutes and either your coming out or I'm coming in." he warned which caused Pam to roll her eyes, as she pulled the curtain to glance out at the pouting and dirty Eric. He was sitting on the small toilet scratching his head allowing some of the dirt from the cave floor to fall out and she couldn't help but laugh, the action causing Eric to glance up. But she just disappeared behind it again.
"A girl need time to wash her hair… especially when she's been sleeping-." She stopped as the curtain moved. If her heart could race it would have won the derby, especially when she felt his presence behind her. It took everything in Pam not to turn around, and he must have felt it because he chuckled.
"Here let me help," he cooed as he stepped up closer to her allowing his very naked front press to her equally naked back as he reached for the shampoo. If her heart still beat it would have been beating against her ribs at this point, and it was taking all she had not to allow the feeling to revile through there slight bond. Once he gripped the bottle he backed away only slightly before squeezing out a small amount in his hands, before thrusting his finger into her hair.
No matter how hard she tried, how strong her will was, she couldn't help the soft moan that exited her lips as his hands gently messaged her scalp. His hand worked the soap into her hair before turning her around. "Lean your head back," he cooed softly and she nodded slightly before doing so.
Once she did, he gently slid his hands down her back and Pam surprised even herself as she moaned slightly.
"Dose that feels nice," he cooed arrogantly causing her to open one of her eyes. But there was no words she could say, he brought his hands up to her shoulders and scrubbed the soap over her the blades and the peaks, then up to her neck, kneading it gently. When he was done his hands fell away. A soft whimper exited as her lips pouted at the loss of contact. But soon it became a smile.
"Thank you for that," she patted his hand. He held her hand and stepped closely to her, and without a word pressed his lips to hers forehead tenderly.
Pam was taken by surprise, but closed her eyes and enjoyed it. "After everything you've been through you deserve it," he said cheekily and she chuckled.
"Eric, you've been through just as much…if not more," he shrugged.
"I've spent the last couple of years fooling myself, believing in something that was ridiculous in the first place… it took a hard smack from reality to open my eyes…and I see I have a lot to make up for."
"Yes…you do Eric?" Pam said her smile turning sad. "But that was in another life…one that we are far away from right now."
"Your right," he nodded and Pam smiled.
Their eyes met before his feel to her lips, but before he could or she could get any father she turned back toward the water. "So you have this wonderful plan, but you still have a flaw…we both need clothing and I don't think walking around in your dirty shirt is an option anymore." she added and he chuckled.
"Fine, we'll go shopping," he sighed. "But only for stuff we need."
"Well I need a new wardrobe…and from the hell I've been through I believe I deserve one," she said smugly.
"Get out," he barked playful as he turned her around and gave her a push to get her moving. "Hey… you know what that's fine I need to get to the mirror before you anyway…mirror hog?" she added wrapping the towel around her.
The small village was anything but lively when Eric and Pam finally arrived, "I don't think this place has a clothing shop." She looked around until her eyes fell on a small café that was open for 24 hours. "Maybe someone over there can help us." She asked and watched as Eric glanced over.
Eric sighed shaking his head. "Pam," he soothed. "Relax." She shot him a look designed to pierce lasers into flesh, but Eric saw the worry in her eyes and now felt it. He reached out and squeezed her hand before also glancing around. "Wait here." With that said he disappeared into the small café. Pam watched, as Eric shoved his hands into his Pants and...flirted? Her eyes narrowed as the girl blushed at Eric's grin, too far away to make out their words.
While not at his best, Eric still cut a dashing figure looking as if he belonged in Paris rather than a small Swedish village. The girl made a gasping sound and her eyes darted to Pam, who wondered what absurd story Eric had concocted. She stood there watching, as Eric spoke before bowing slightly and gesturing to Pam.
The blonde waitress blushed again, and stepped out from behind the counter, and before too long they were headed her way.
"Love," he spoke in that perfect Swedish of his. "This is Loren. I explained our situation to her and she has so graciously volunteered to drive us herself to town, and get her mother to open her clothing shop"
Our situation? Pam hid her confusion and smiled at the girl. "It's lovely to meet you."
"You as well." The girl's Swedish was friendly and light. "When your fiancé told me that you had been attacked by a man posing as a travel agent and that he'd stranded you here, stealing most of your belongings, I was shocked!" She laid a hand on her chest in sympathy. "And then he also took your engagement ring and your clothing…so sad!"
Pam almost dropped her jaw and forced herself not to glance into Eric's mischievously sparkling eyes. "Oh...yes, dreadful thing to have happened." She collected herself. "I can honestly say that nothing lately has gone as I expected."
Eric gave a smirk that only Pam caught and despite her disapproval at his manipulative lie, wondering why he didn't just glamour the bitch. Pam couldn't deny that it got them exactly what they needed. "Thank you so much for your help, Loren."
Smiling widely, Loren waved lightly. "The town is only about twenty minute drive. I get off at midnight, and I can drive you there. Is that all right?"
"It will be perfect," Eric broke in, amused at Pam's own charming attitude to make up for his duplicity. She had no idea of the power of her warm smile. "It will give us time to buy what that crook stole from us." He sighed melodramatically. "It is not so much my stuff that I care about, but my fiancée's. It burns me to think of him going through her belongings." It took everything in Pam not to roll her eyes at Eric playing the loving and caring human, but the young girl was eating it all up.
Hell she near swooned at his chivalrous attitude, while Pam desperately wanted to laugh.
"Please come, I'll retrieve my mother and we will get you ready?" Loren's cheeks turned pink as Eric bowed once again before she walked off and was soon accosted by the other waitresses. Re-taking his position in front of her, Eric nonchalantly smiled smugly.
"Poor girl… Any more of that 'noble' attitude of yours, and she would have gladly married you without realizing that everything you just told her was a lie,oh and that you're a vampire" Pam said quietly in English watching as his eyebrow rose.
"hum…if I didn't know any better I would say someone is Jealous… are you jealous my love?" he finished and watched as Pam's eyes narrowed as a fake smile appeared on her face.
"No, merely pitying." She looked at him. "But you have solved three problems clothing, a ride, and food."
"Genius," he reminded her arrogantly.
It didn't take long for a little old lady to come walking out of the café a set of keys in her hands. The village held only vintage stores, independent clothing shops, and certainly none that boasted men's tailored wear. It was to one of the former that Pam dragged Eric to, citing that he was already standing out. To which he proclaimed, "I can't help it if people want to admire me. It's something I've had to live with my whole life." He completely ignored the fact that none of the glances angled toward him were actually admiring, well a few were admiring.
Once in the store, Pam shoved a pair of jeans and a shirt at him. "Change, please. We need to blend in."
Eric looked completely affronted at the clothes in his arms. He stood there for a moment before giving up this fight in the face of logic. He had noticed the looks and if their would-be killer was searching for them, questioning the village folk would guarantee being found. He leered at Pam. "Does this mean I get to choose what you wear, Pam?"
Pam looked teasingly at him, arms full of clothes already. "If it were up to you, I'd probably not be wearing a single stitch," she said quietly.
"While that is a tantalizing picture, I wouldn't do that." Eric ran his eyes down Pam's body. "Perhaps a few strategically placed scraps, here and there..." Pam couldn't help but laugh, brushing past him on her way to the change-room.
Ducking into change-rooms, the two busied themselves. "You know, if you need any help in there, I'll be glad to lend a hand, or two and then there is always my lips as well." Eric's saucy smile was in his voice. "To help put clothes on, or take them off..."
"I think I can handle it, Eric, but thank you for your generous offer," Pam shot back sarcastically. The next moment, she winced as she stretched her injured arm too far.
Moments later, Pam stepped from behind the curtain in fitted black jeans and a sunshine yellow tank top to stop in her tracks at the sight of Eric, waiting for her. His legs were showing from underneath the tan shorts and a white dress shirt with short sleeves. "Certainly not at my best," Eric grumbled, feeling oddly awkward under Pam's awe stare.
A smile played on her lips. "No…no you look…wow who knew that white would look good on a vampire." Blue-gray eyes shot up to her face to see her looking appreciatively at him and a warm feeling inside him prompted him to smirk. "Natural talent, I suppose."
He stepped closer. "And you." Eric reached out a finger and softly trailed it up one arm, feeling Pam's shivers, before tangling in a curl. "You look beautiful."
"You know," Pam whispered, looking into his eyes. "The store keeper is watching us?" she cooed and watched as Eric chuckled. Pam merely stood there, waiting and with a hint of a smile. Shaking his head slowly, he murmured, "You are my fiancée," he dipped his eyes to her lips, "So if I were to do this." his finger slipped from her curl to tip her chin up, and Eric's lips fluttered against Pam's.
There was no secret that the two had kissed, well more time then she could count, but this…this was different. In one simple kiss it felt like he was pouring his fears, his secrets, his love into It. It was as if the world exploded. This kiss was neither taken by surprise nor peppered with mixed feelings, and utterly, wholeheartedly reciprocated by both of them.
Eric felt alive again. Energy he could have sworn was more sizzling than electricity surged through his veins and he pressed his lips harder, looping his arms tight around her.
Pam felt free. She soared, unburdened, strong, and no matter what obstacles were in her way with Eric there with her they all would topple down at their feet like they use to.
Eric crushed Pam's body to his when he felt her tongue sweep across his lips, and he eagerly welcomed her, not daring to deny her anything. His tongue, a mischievous entity like its owner, tangled with hers and relished in the moan Pam gave off. It was slick, warm, and fiery.
Pam ran her hands down Eric's back, raking her nails over his shirt, before an awkward cough forced them to tear away from each other. "Well," Eric said with a smirk. "Have you finally decided to believe me…that there more here?" He kept his arms around her.
"Actually, it was the shorts. You look absolute adorable in them, and I can't resist that, really." She gave a tinkling laugh before stepping out of his arms and heading to the counter.
The old woman rang up their purchases, including the ones they wore.
"These too." Pam looked at the handful of cotton dresses Eric had placed on the counter in askance, but he merely smiled placidly at her. "You have killer legs." This he whispered in Swedish.
The old saleswoman frowned at the two, obviously still unamused by the show of affection that they had displayed. But it didn't stop them from walking out of the shop with a duffel bag each of newly-bought clothing. The two made their way back to the café at midnight to see Loren in front, standing in front of a car. "Ready to go?"
The two nodded and got into the backseat of the car. The short drive was peppered with Loren's questions. "How did you two meet?"
"She was being mugged, and I stopped it. After that night I couldn't stop thinking about her" Eric answered. "Our connection was magnetic, to say the least. And when I saw her the next time, I was simply stunned by her beauty and I had to make her mine," he whispered conspiratorially in a loud voice to Loren.
The teenage girl's heart swooned, as Pam glanced at Eric almost as surprised as the young girl. He continued to go on weave the story of their 'great love' as he proclaimed it, and honestly, Pam had never truly believed he thought like that…or even felt that way…the way she did. So she settled back, took Eric's hand, ignoring his pause and glances at her, and listened to their conversation. Hoping, but knowing that their troubles were far from over.