Just walking into the kitchen was enough for the scent of tobacco to hit Sookie with the force of a train, the blonde burying her nose into a thick shawl she kept wrapped around herself, the only way she could convince many of the clinic's attendants to let her roam about despite having fallen ill after so much exposure to the elements. With the blanket held to her nose and eyebrows wrinkled in disapproval, Sookie wandered into the rec room, blinking when she found Spike leaning over a pool table.
Well, at least it was true to form.
With an almost empty mug of tea in her hand, Sookie wandered over next to the former vampire, trying to catch his gaze for a moment before then reaching out a hand to snatch the cigarette away, if he'd allow it. Although frankly, even if he didn't, Sookie wasn't about to stop trying until she'd put the full effort in.
"Smoking's not allowed in the Compound, you know," she berated lightly, lips pressed in a firm line.
Whatever yelp of protest he might have been about to toss her way died on his lips when he saw her. Even if he hadn't remembered her from that first day on the beach, he would have happily let her take whatever she'd like off of him. Besides, her company was preferable to the sad, lonely One Man Show he'd been staging.
Although Sookie knew that cigarettes were rather rare on the island, any hesitation on her part didn't last long before she put the smoke out, letting it drop into her mug, which she placed away and to the side. The response Sookie received from Spike was almost surprising, although she imagined that having a soul back- and not riddled with insanity at the same time- might have had a lot to do with the behavior. Either way, it was kind enough that she was placated, especially by the use of a term of relative endearment that Sookie had grown fond of while watching the show.
"Nope, it's a public establishment, one that almost everyone needs to stop by now and again, and secondhand smoke is pretty damagin', so for the better of the collective, it's disallowed," Sookie smiled, leaning lightly against the table and trying her best to overcome the surreal feeling of standing by a man who had once been nothing but fictional to her. "But now you know. So..."
Her eyes swept over the table. "Feelin' pretty bored, I'm guessing?"
"Tell me, what was your first clue?" he asked, the smirk on his face not unkind as he leaned against the table next to her.
"You wouldn't happen to have any suggestions on how to keep me occupied, would you?" He wasn't leering. Not technically. If there was an innuendo tucked up in that sentence somewhere, who could really blame him?
"Even if 'lonely boy next to the pool table' wasn't so big of a cliché to begin with, I've worked as a waitress for years at a diner that had the works. A bar, a pool table, a television. Any guy hoggin' up the table by his lonesome was always lookin' for some sorta company," Sookie replied readily, an eyebrow momentarily arching, playful, but not very suggestive. She couldn't blame Spike for possibly finding the island dull- even Sookie could hardly stand being so idle on the slow days, and she wasn't a vampire with years upon years of experience wreaking havoc around the world.
Pausing, she moved over to the wall and picked up the second cue. "You could get a job. Or I can play a game with you," she suggested with a shrug. "Nothin' beyond that, though, if that's what you're gettin' at."
"I'm still a bit wobbly on the concept of holding down a job you're not getting paid for," Spike pointed out, stepping back and gesturing for her to make the break. "So, let's go for the latter, shall we?"
Besides, Spike wasn't the type that did well with responsibility. Not without other incentive.
"You get paid," Sookie countered, bouncing the butt of the cue a couple of times on the ground before she rounded the table, leaning over to aim for the break. "Just... not with money. More with what people think of you, how kind they'll be to you in the future, things like that. Plus, you can barter different types of labor; askin' people to build me a hut is much easier when they recognize me as one of the waitresses at the Winchester."
Hitting the ball sharply, Sookie watched carefully as one of the balls was pocketed, trying carefully not to let her grin show too much in the process. "Solids and stripes?"
Well, at least it was true to form.
With an almost empty mug of tea in her hand, Sookie wandered over next to the former vampire, trying to catch his gaze for a moment before then reaching out a hand to snatch the cigarette away, if he'd allow it. Although frankly, even if he didn't, Sookie wasn't about to stop trying until she'd put the full effort in.
"Smoking's not allowed in the Compound, you know," she berated lightly, lips pressed in a firm line.
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"Isn't it? Oh, well, my apologies, pet."
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"Nope, it's a public establishment, one that almost everyone needs to stop by now and again, and secondhand smoke is pretty damagin', so for the better of the collective, it's disallowed," Sookie smiled, leaning lightly against the table and trying her best to overcome the surreal feeling of standing by a man who had once been nothing but fictional to her. "But now you know. So..."
Her eyes swept over the table. "Feelin' pretty bored, I'm guessing?"
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"You wouldn't happen to have any suggestions on how to keep me occupied, would you?" He wasn't leering. Not technically. If there was an innuendo tucked up in that sentence somewhere, who could really blame him?
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Pausing, she moved over to the wall and picked up the second cue. "You could get a job. Or I can play a game with you," she suggested with a shrug. "Nothin' beyond that, though, if that's what you're gettin' at."
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Besides, Spike wasn't the type that did well with responsibility. Not without other incentive.
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Hitting the ball sharply, Sookie watched carefully as one of the balls was pocketed, trying carefully not to let her grin show too much in the process. "Solids and stripes?"
Reply
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