Sam's take on Dead and Gone - SPOILERS
The TV hummed as its brightness reflected off every single one of the pair of bright eyes in Merlotte’s Bar sat there, glued to news broadcast. This was our day. Soon everybody would know that vamps weren’t the the only supes that existed; that, in fact, many of us worked right beside them, were friends and relatives or even their favorite bar tender.
My heart thundered in my chest as if it itself had gone and shifted into a hummingbird, though I knew that was impossible. Or at least hoped it was. I shot a look and Dawson, the Were Sookie’s roommate, Amelia, was dating. We started towards each other, stripping our shirts, then going for our boots, belts then Levi’s. Most people weren’t paying attention just then due to the fact the pretty lady on TV had just transformed into a wolf. I knew she’d be a Were; she just had that air about her, though if she’d been in the same room with me there would have been no guessin’ at all-her scent would have given her away.
Dawson gave me a nod and we both worked our way into the shift. It happened quick to the eyes of humans in the bar, but it always felt like it took so long to me. When your bones are crackin’, your muscles are being squished and rearragened, well, I guess that would seem kinda long to anyone. When I was done with the shift I sat there, in the middle of my own bar, in front of the people of Bon Temps as a collie. Not very intimidating, but definitely not what anyone expected.
Before I could even give Dawson a look over, Arlene (she’s one of my bar maids) was just hollerin’, and had she not been a godly woman, probably would have been cussin’ too. She was one of those Fellowship of the Sun nuts now, but she used to be pretty reliable, though she was always a gossipin’ sleeze. And there are very few ladies I’d ever say that about, but Arlene sure as hell did write the book on the subject.
Well, Arlene sure seemed to be a ragin’, as were her FOTS cronies, who seemed hell bent on adding another type of people to their list of “top ten things to persecute this Friday.” She quit, threw her half-apron the floor and stormed outta there, cursin’ me. Weren’t nothing I didn’t expect, though I really hoped it wasn’t going to happen. Sometimes, hope just ain’t enough.
But finally, it felt good to be clean and honest with everyone. It was sure a chore to have Terry Belefleur always stand in for me on those nights I had to shift, and now I wouldn’t be havin’ people wonderin’ if I was just too hung over to come in-no, now they’d know I’d grown a tail and a fur coat that wasn’t picked up on sale at Nordstrom’s for 50% off. I guess I’m not really sure that is a good feeling. But it sure does beat having to live life as a big fat liar.
I wondered how many other people felt the same, and how many other people were going to wonder if staying a big fat liar would have been a better choice.
My heart thundered in my chest as if it itself had gone and shifted into a hummingbird, though I knew that was impossible. Or at least hoped it was. I shot a look and Dawson, the Were Sookie’s roommate, Amelia, was dating. We started towards each other, stripping our shirts, then going for our boots, belts then Levi’s. Most people weren’t paying attention just then due to the fact the pretty lady on TV had just transformed into a wolf. I knew she’d be a Were; she just had that air about her, though if she’d been in the same room with me there would have been no guessin’ at all-her scent would have given her away.
Dawson gave me a nod and we both worked our way into the shift. It happened quick to the eyes of humans in the bar, but it always felt like it took so long to me. When your bones are crackin’, your muscles are being squished and rearragened, well, I guess that would seem kinda long to anyone. When I was done with the shift I sat there, in the middle of my own bar, in front of the people of Bon Temps as a collie. Not very intimidating, but definitely not what anyone expected.
Before I could even give Dawson a look over, Arlene (she’s one of my bar maids) was just hollerin’, and had she not been a godly woman, probably would have been cussin’ too. She was one of those Fellowship of the Sun nuts now, but she used to be pretty reliable, though she was always a gossipin’ sleeze. And there are very few ladies I’d ever say that about, but Arlene sure as hell did write the book on the subject.
Well, Arlene sure seemed to be a ragin’, as were her FOTS cronies, who seemed hell bent on adding another type of people to their list of “top ten things to persecute this Friday.” She quit, threw her half-apron the floor and stormed outta there, cursin’ me. Weren’t nothing I didn’t expect, though I really hoped it wasn’t going to happen. Sometimes, hope just ain’t enough.
But finally, it felt good to be clean and honest with everyone. It was sure a chore to have Terry Belefleur always stand in for me on those nights I had to shift, and now I wouldn’t be havin’ people wonderin’ if I was just too hung over to come in-no, now they’d know I’d grown a tail and a fur coat that wasn’t picked up on sale at Nordstrom’s for 50% off. I guess I’m not really sure that is a good feeling. But it sure does beat having to live life as a big fat liar.
I wondered how many other people felt the same, and how many other people were going to wonder if staying a big fat liar would have been a better choice.