The Night Gallery

The Night Gallery

Nikki had been waiting impatiently to see the Georgia O’Keefe exhibition and when she saw it was finally there, she made plans to go see it, perhaps go to dinner, and just treat herself. The night of the opening she waited impatiently for the day to draw to a close.

She came home after work and checked her voice mail, turned on her computer and her TV. She undressed and slid into her favorite silk robe and went into the kitchen and got herself a light snack. The news droned in the background as she checked her email and went on the forum to see what is up and looked up at the clock and realized it was time to get ready.

A social person usually, tonight she wanted to be on her own. She wanted to go to the museum and spend real time just studying the erotic and natural lines and the bright shocking colors of the flowers O’Keefe painted. They were always the most luscious and sensuous paintings she had ever looked at. Many people talked about the symmetry and the arrangement of her paintings, but Nikki liked the symbolic nature, the worship of the female design.

Tall and thin, Nikki brushed out her blonde hair and slid into the basic black dress, the little black dress she only wore when she wanted to feel Other, that unique feeling of mystery , hiding in plain sight.

It was as she expected. The museum had managed to create intimate corners with benches in front of O’Keefe’s often mural size canvases. In art books, they always seem so small, when in fact the paintings were actually much larger. She stood before a large painting of an orchid, its petals unfolding. Nikki wanted to step into the painting and feel the flower enfold her in its intimate embrace.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” said a voice behind her. Nikki turned around to face a blonde woman. She was sitting on a bench, her long legs crossed feet encased in red pumps, the strong muscles of her calves seemingly sharply carved from the palest marble. She was dressed in red, making her skin almost pink. She was leaned back a bit on her palms, flat against the back edge of the bench. Her lovely pointed face held her delicate features and her blue willow blue eyes had a gaze that seemed to hypnotize her. Finally she found her voice.

“Yes, it is,” she said. “Do you know much about O’Keefe?”
“Not really, but after seeing so many paintings featuring male centered symbols, it is relief to simply luxuriate in the more organic forms of female symbols. She paints the orchid as though she is love with it, the smell, the taste,” said the beautiful woman. “Did you know orchids are edible?”
“No… are they?” asked Nikki.
“Oh yes, not all of them, but some,” said the woman.

“Have you ever had an orchid?” asked Nikki, coming to sit down beside the woman. She sat up and put her hands on her knee. She had strong hands, ending in long red nails, carefully painted.
“Not in many years now,” she said. “But one of the things I remembered about it was the feel. Orchids feel like the most delicate skin, like the tender skin on the inside of a lady's arm.”

Nikki tried to pull her gaze away, but somehow couldn’t. Sitting closer to the woman, she could smell her perfume but another smell, a dry, spice like scent, a secret scent. It was as thought the beautiful woman before her was something else entirely.
“What a lovely perfume, what is that scent,” asked the blond woman. Nikki was surprised, it was if the woman were reading her mind.
“Gardenia,” she said. “It’s a bit old fashioned, but there is a part of me that is a little old fashioned.”
“It is lovely. Did you know this museum has a lovely Oriental Garden? It even has a moon gate,” she said.
“No, I didn’t know, but I have always come here for the exhibits,” she said.
“Museums are interesting to me. I enjoy the art, but sometimes, the people are just as intriguing as the exhibits,” said the woman, the mystery woman. “Would you like to see the garden with me?”

Nikki had never done this before, simply been drawn to a woman like this. But she nodded and watched as the woman stood up and she offered her her hand. Nikki slid her hand in hers and they walked out the garden entrance door and exited the museum.
A garden at night is a garden of delight. A night gallery. So garish in the sun with the profusion of flowers and the thousand shades of green, a garden at night was something else all together. Seeing the garden this way made her understand when people talked about the magik of the night. That was it, the tall blond beside her was some sort of magik. The soft wind blew and she could smell again, that secret scent, perhaps the smell of her alchemy.

Roses and other dark flowers were black in the shadows. The birds and butterflies that would have flitted from bud to bud were gone to bed. She could hear the minute scrabbling of lizards after bugs. The woman walking beside her, their hands palm to palm, seemed to hear other sounds. Nikki hoped that she could not hear her heart beating hard against her chest, making her feel a bit dizzy.

They walked along the path carefully, the light from the foot lights a dim amber color. She stumbled a little and the woman’s hand tightened on her own and kept her from falling. Nikki put her other hand and touched the woman’s forearm and she smiled. They continued their walk and passed through the round moon gate, over a small foot bridge where the motley colored koi swam, seen with the help of the underwater lights in their pond. They snapped up hapless bugs that accidentally fell into their pool.

“Here we are, this is what I wanted to show you, the orchids,” said the woman. They walked over to the giant grouping of the beautiful flowers. There was a bit more light shining on them. Georgia O’Keefe’s painting suddenly became a poor copy, a sloppy representation of the real thing. Then the woman reached out, faster than the eye could see and plucked one of the orchids.

“Hey, you can’t do that!” exclaimed Nikki.
“Stealing some little trifle makes it more precious, I think….Forbidden fruit,” she said smiling. Her smile, like herself was different to her, something wild, almost feral. She should turn on her heel and leave this strange beautiful woman but she couldn’t. “Smell it, it is intoxicating, isn’t it?” She extended the orchid and Nikki leaned forward and sniffed it.

The sweet smell of the flower enveloped her. It was the smell of love, and romance and something else, something electric. This was no scentless, hybrid variety but a wild variety, uncomplicated by science, and she felt stoned by it.

“Taste it,” the beautiful woman encouraged. Nikki felt funny about this. She had never actually eaten a flower before, though she read somewhere that the Spanish loved to eat roses. She took the orchid from the woman’s hand and examined it. Where would she bite it? She decided on a top petal and plucked carefully and tentatively put the petal into her mouth and bit down carefully and was surprised at the sweet almondy taste. She offered the woman the orchid.
“Have a taste?” she said.
“Oh yes,” she said, drawing Nikki closer to her, sliding her arm around her waist. Her lips were poised just over hers. “I love forbidden fruit.”

Good night Nikki

Troubles

Trouble

Trouble...
Trouble, trouble, trouble, trouble
Trouble been doggin' my soul since the day I was born
Worry...
Worry, worry, worry, worry
Worry just will not seem to leave my mind alone -"Trouble" Ray Lamontagne

I was glad for the peace and quiet that came to the house in the wee dark hours. I sat in my attic library, reading over some old forgotten lore I found in a little out of the way book shop in London. Its pages were worn and brittle and yellow with age and it's binding had been crumbling. I taped it carefully with matching duct tape.

But unlike the quiet of my room, my mind was abuzz with thoughts and memories of the week. The strange, crazy awesome, troubling dream about the lead counselor and the one on one session I had with my counselor made me compare the two men who were in our world. I sighed and closed the book and set it on the steamer trunk I used as a coffee table between the two twin beds I used as couches. I reached for the glass of wine and took a sip and lit another one of those turkish blend cigarettes.

It was almost 18 weeks till our new adventures, and I wasn't sure I would make it. No matter what I did, I was still too anxious and thinking about the strange beings in our lives, in all our worlds, made me even more anxious. I was maintaining as far as the withdrawals, but that was all. I felt like Al Pacino in Panic in Needle Park, about a period when there was not going to be any heroin on the street. Since October, we had been like those junkies, surviving on the merest taste , a picture there, an article there, so tempted to post anything that looked like news.

My mind went again to the two men in my personal junkie universe. One was like Southern Comfort, smooth and dark with delicious bite. The other was like Cotton Candy, sweet and delightful. Both had their own brand of comfort, both gave so much pleasure to the consumer. Yet both could hurt you. Southern Comfort could leave you with your head aching and your stomach churning, and the other could put you in a sugar coma.

But above all they could not be mixed. Eating a big cone of spun cotton candy then knocking back a couple of shots of So Co, could be a hazardous combination. So, if you like both you have to take them one at a time. But, as I thought, which did I really like the most?

Southern Comfort is just that, comfort. If taken in moderation, you are just fine. Say, once a week. Tuesdays are good. I had no real responsibilities on Tuesdays. And if I got a buzz, that was okay too.

But cotton candy? Almost exclusively a once in a while treat. I have seen packaged cotton candy in stores, but the best cotton candy was the one you bought at the fair, fresh from the floss machine. When you put your tongue on it, it sizzled and then disappeared, leaving that wonderfully sugary sweet cherry taste.

I sighed. How could I compare the two counselors to consumables...but then I laughed...Weren't we consumables as well? I wondered what I was? Was I cup cake? A piece of peanut butter candy? Maybe a banana split? I doubted I was that sweet. Was I champagne? Did I make their heads spin? Or was I cognac, all fire in the glass? Or was a stout? Bitter and nutty, something with a bite?

These were the sort of thoughts that wondered through a mind too tired for legend and lore. I got up and blew out the candles in front of Our Lady of Perpetual Help (and boy did I need help), turned off my computer and the lights and went down the stairs, feeling that ache that will not be salved til summer, and the questions of southern comfort versus cotton candy floating around in my brain.

Meeting January 27

Meeting Wednesday 27th
Here we are, 18 ½ weeks into our hiatus. We had a bit of excitement with the return of our Westexan and the appearance of her Tea Cup human to his very first True Blood Anonymous meeting. Nothing much got done in the counseling department, unless giving the lead counselor the once over in the plain light of day was counted as getting something done.

Couple that with my unnerving dream of Monday night and my tearful discussion of it with my counselor, I was more than ready to settle down to a meeting. The dream made me wary and strangely thoughtful. Perhaps I should have left the lead counselor in the shadows, where I liked him best. My counselor was very solicitous to me, however and showed me how to put certain things in perspective.

I was sitting back in my chair, sucking down a coffee with Irish Nevermind and eating some boneless buffalo wings brought in by Scarlett Harlot and listening to the chatter of my other TB buds. We were very excited because of the new news and the speculations were in full force.

Westexan and Scarlett Harlot finally sat down in their usual places, flanking me. I was ready to get some cussing and discussing done on what we had been talking about on the forum floor and our Thorsday night meetings and our Saturday Night Chat. We all had theories about the adventure next summer.

Finally, the lights went down and we settled to begin our discussion. The counselors were in their accustomed places. The lead counselor was leaning his tall self against the door; the southern counselor was sitting in his chair nearby. The lady counselor and her protégé were standing by the door behind me. Last week we had too much excitement to discuss much of anything and now we had much to say. I looked around our expanding circle. There was Renee and the Kid, Bella, Lina and Linzy, Aolani, Mikeylikesit, Dude, God Speed and the Mrs., Mel and Liz, Butter and Fairy and Vi and Minnie, Westexan, Scarlett Harlot and I.

It was the God Speed’s anniversary today and I was a little surprised to see them there in the meeting. But Junkie-dom knew no special days. You have to have your fix of the little read headed girl or Mr. Gracious Plenty himself.

There were a lot of members who just sort of drifted away from us. Madargentinian, MuJu, a few others. I hoped they would come back soon and rejoin us.

But I digress, and finally the lead counselor’s voice woke me from my reveries. And made me shiver in a strangely pleasant/unpleasant way.

“How is everyone this evening?” he asked. “What shall we talk about?”

The biggest topic was The Grudge…no, not the horror film. Apparently, the BV was holding on to some old, big time grudges, and it was going to play itself out.

“The Grudge,” said Dude. “Let’s talk about that.”

We were ready. I noticed a couple of girls sitting a little straighter in their seat.

“What about the grudge,” said the lady counselor.
“Well, who is the object of Eric’s ire?” asked Vi.

“I suspect, though I cannot be sure, it has to do with his human family. And if it does, it may explain why Eric is the way he is,” said Linzy. Lina was nodding.

“Please dearest, tell us about your thoughts,” said the lead counselor. Evidently, the lead counselor was not holding a grudge against Lina and Linzy over their momentary lapse of reason concerning a certain flea bag that was making his appearance in the adventures next summer.

“This is just what I think, I have no evidence to support this, and the source can lay it out any number of ways,” she explained. “We have all been interested in Eric’s back story since Godric.” She went quiet for a second and we all missed the visiting counselor in our hearts. “The source made Godric very different from the way the connection does. But we already know something about Eric from the connection. Eric was married and he had children that he left behind when he became Vampire. Now in the world of the connection, Eric’s wife Aude died in childbirth, but what if it was Vampires, in the world of the source, who killed Eric’s wife and children and their leader is the one Eric sees again.”

“That would be something,” I said. “But, if he went away after he became Vampire, how would he know?”
“Maybe he went back,” said God Speed. “Maybe he was pining and he went back for one last look and while he was peeking at the village, maybe and that is when it happened.”
“Why do you think it would explain so much about Eric?” asked my counselor. I loved to hear his low, sweet voice.

“Well, he was possibly a young Vampire, still close to his feelings about being human and he pined for his family and his village, even the connection said that. Whatever we think might happen, if this is what happens, this would make him bitter, hard, angry. You have to have like tons strength and anger to hold a grudge for a thousand years,” I said. “Imagine hating someone for a thousand years.”

We all have said ‘I hate you’ in fits of anger, and perhaps we have hated someone enough to really hate them to death, but human minds are different than that, they eventually let go of it and go on. Though Eric may have gotten on with his existence, it was apparent he wasn’t the only thing to die hard. If his hate was like this, what would his love be like? Would it die hard too? I voiced those concerns.

“Love and hate, two emotions on the opposite span of the emotional scale, yet they contain so many of the same properties,” said Dude.

“Sleep is the brother of death,” I said, thinking about all the parallels of human experience. “Passion, pain, grief, those are all things muddled together in both love and hate. It can burn you up. Will it burn the Big Viking up?”

“Another thing I heard was about Lafayette,” said Aolani. We leaned in and Scarlett Harlot made a come on gesture. “It was something that Liz and Mel mentioned during the radio show.”

“Well,” said Liz, “We all know that Lafayette had strong feelings about the exorcism Tara’s mom went through.”

We all nodded. Lafayette thought it was all a con job, but he knows the power of positive thinking and some self delusion. He had thrown a lay of tarot cards for Tara, which called for sacrifice. On the other hand, we also saw in the last season that he had a spiritual side.

“What intelligence we received was that Lafayette helps someone heal spiritually, physically? I can’t be sure, all we are getting is fairly vague,” she said. “And how can help anyone if he’s PTSDing over Scrambled Terry’s Scramble?”

“Lafayette is affected very strongly by the blood tie he has with Eric. Eric’s healing elixir that is his thousand year old blood doesn’t just heal,” I said. “But, methinks he has more invested in his spiritual life than tarot cards and religious chachkis in his house. You know, the connection in book four talks about the witches, how they were many things but they also used V. Lafayette was both a V user and a human healed by a Vampire, again, Eric’s Miracle Elixir. What if it enhanced his magikal powers too, like we think it has for Sookie and her…inherited traits?”

“How do you mean?” asked the Southern Counselor.

“Well, there are people who are born witches, naturally in tune with the magical forces of the world. People who are different, like Lafayette, and Sookie, would find that whatever personal strengths or talents they possess are greatly enhanced through the energy of an extremely supernatural creature like Eric, or any of the Vampires, but especially Eric, because he is just so old. Imagine what drinking Godric’s blood must have been…”I stopped and my eyes found the lead counselor’s shadow, leaned passively on the door. “Imagine being human and being turned by a Vampire who was already a thousand years old and then, imagine how powerful you would feel with that Vampire’s blood inside you. Sookie and Lafayette have had some sort of extraordinary cocktail in drinking Eric’s blood.”

“Do you think it works that way though?” asked Dude.

“I think so. Lorena told Bill that his blood knew hers, and this was why she could still physically over power him. Eric was still bound by the pull of Godric’s blood though he had not seen him in many years, perhaps centuries, so much so Godric did not yell for Eric, he simply said ‘I am here my child,’ and Eric heard him,” I said. “Bill is very young Vampire even though he is old to us, his blood would be powerful, yes, but not like Eric’s. All that protracted yammering about how Sookie didn’t have use of her faculties because of Bill’s blood is such hooey because compared to Eric’s blood, Bill’s blood is cherry Kool-Aid in as far as her feelings being altered. But Lafayette, he is V user anyway, and that was from Eddie, the youngest of our Vampires, excusing Jessica, and he may have felt a little ‘wild’ in the blood, but with Eric? Lafayette is live wire for the magical forces around him, things he may have only dabbled in before will be stronger and clearer and more natural in time. “

“And this would tie in nicely with the following summer’s adventures, tying in the witches and possibly the queen,” said Scarlett Harlot.

“Let’s leave it right here tonight, we have a lot of food for thought,” said the lady counselor.

We all packed up and left and the four shadows met in the center of the room. My counselor looked up at the lead counselor.

“What do you think?” he asked the lead counselor.
“I think…they are very clever,” said the lead counselor.
“Do you think they are correct?” asked the lady counselor.
“Perhaps,” said the lead counselor. “We shall see, yes indeed, we shall see.”

Great Pumps- By Renee COTN

IN LOVING MEMORY
Renee, Child of the Night

The Blond waitress knocked on the door of the office. “Come in Ginger,” a female voice spoke. The woman tentatively opened the door and peeped in.
“Boss,” she said “there’s one of those people that come here sometimes sitting out in the bar.”
“Is there a problem?” the tall male vampire asked. “And, more to the point who is it?”
“I don’t know her name boss,” Ginger replied “She’s been here with the group before but never alone. Right now she’s sitting at the bar and she’s convinced the bartender to let her have a bottle of Patron, I’ve never seen a woman do shots the way she is.”
“Go see who it is,” the male ordered his second in command.

The beautiful blond rolled her eyes and headed towards the bar. As she entered she stopped and looked on with astonishment as Renee, one of the other counselor’s devotees, leaned forward and whispered into the ear of the bartender. As she started to make her way though the crowd she watched as the bartender threw back his head and laughed loudly while Renee calmly poured herself another shot and tossed it back. This was an odd enough occurrence that the blond vampire spun on her heel and headed back to the office, the boss needed to see this.

“Who is it?” he asked when she entered.
“It’s Renee,” she said and continued as he arched a questioning eyebrow. “She’s the quiet red head who brings those tarts filled with that strange fruit. You remember, the ones you say remind you of your past.”
“Ah yes,” he replied. “I remember her now, for a time I thought she would be one of my ladies but she’s chosen the other counselor. What brings her here and more to the question why.”
“I have no idea,” she answered. “But she’s managed to make our inscrutable bartender laugh and is drinking tequila like a sailor.”
“Well then, we must see what brings her here this evening. Notify her counselor, perhaps he can shed some light on this behavior,” the vampire known affectionately as the Big Viking said as he rose from his chair.

As the pair walked into the bar, Renee spun on her stool as if sensing their scrutiny and nodded towards them, raising her shot glass and tossing back another drink. They approached and the lead counselor spoke.
“Renee my dear what brings you here this evening?” Renee smiled as she tilted her head to meet his gaze “I had to get away, I seriously needed a drink and thought that this was as good a place as any.”
“I am pleased you chose my place, but I have never seen you here alone before. In fact usually you’re here with the entire group or, at the very least, the charming Aslinn.”
“True,” Renee replied. “ But tonight I decided to come here, besides I was wondering…”
“Wondering what?” the lady counselor asked in a slightly bored tone.
“Well,” Renee said. “I was wondering if the special guest we had at our All Hallows Eve shindig was into dogs as well as cats.”
“Why,” asked the female, her curiosity piqued. “If he is,” Renee replied “I have a doggy treat just for him, in fact I’ll put a bow on the little son-of-a b--”. The last word of her answer drowned out by the bark of laughter from the lead counselor.
“What has this poor creature done that you would hand him over to our ’special’ friend?’

“This,” Renee replied as she held out her feet “I thought you, of all the people on this planet would understand.” This comment was directed to the lady counselor. Both of them looked down and the lady counselor winced and if she breathed would have gasped in horror for, Renee wore on her feet a pair of black suede Rayne stiletto heels. They were beautiful shoes, or had been as one shoe was damaged beyond repair, the delicate suede on the heel shredded as if an animal had gnawed on it.
“Vintage” whispered the woman.
“Yes,” Renee replied despondently. “My aunt bought them in the late 1950’s and she gave them to me when I was old enough to care for them. I looked after them for years and they’ve been my lucky pumps.”

“Lucky?” this caught the Viking’s attention and he waggled his eyebrows.
“Yes lucky,” Renee answered the corner of her mouth twitching up “they’ve never failed me, I wore them when my husband and I went out last night but I didn’t know the damn dog was under the bed and when I woke this morning I found them like this! I don’t know who I want to strangle more, the dog or the Kid who knows the beasts aren’t allowed in our bedroom,” Renee surveyed her feet sadly “I decided I needed a drink or two and to take them out for a final spin before they’re consigned to the trash heap.” She reached out and poured another shot. “How many is that?” the counselors asked their bartender.
“I stopped counting at 12,” he answered.

Before either could pass comment the lead counselor’s cell rang, “Yes,” he said “she’s here. We’re dealing with an unusual situation. Oh, really. Fine, I’ll tell her.” he closed his phone and turned to Renee. “That was your counselor; apparently this is your evening for some one on one time. He’s on his way to collect you.”
“Oh no,” wailed Renee “I don’t want him to see me like this!”
“Like what?” asked the lady counselor “you seem to be one of those rare individuals who can carry on a sensible conversation in spite of consuming copious amounts of alcohol. I’m quite sure your counselor will not complain. Besides, those shoes may still have a touch of luck left in them yet.”
Renee brightened and started to giggle “I guess I’d better wait outside, the fresh air will do me good..”
“I’ll walk with you” the lady counselor said. “I should start carding the vermin.”
Renee hopped down from the barstool and walked towards the door, the only indication of her alcohol consumption being the extra sway as she walked. The Viking watched the incongruous pair, the tall slender blond and the short plump red haired woman.

“Renee,” he called. She turned lifting an eyebrow in question. “Those were great pumps.”

Fin

Wednesday, January 20th

Meeting, January 20
We were as excited as a hive of bees in a gum tree. It was 19 ½ weeks into the hiatus, some new news had trickled in and we were excited about Westexan coming back to the meetings. I had made some yummy chocolate on chocolate cake and Renee had made her dew berry tarts, something she had not made since the special counselor had left us all too soon.

We were all there, Linzy and Lina, Bella, Vi, Burke and Minnie. God Speed and the Mrs were there. Sal, Dude, and Mel and Liz were there. Renee’s daughter The Kid was there, joining us for her first meeting. Aolani and the Red Headed Harlot were there. We had been in the room for more than an hour, stringing crepe paper and tying off balloons. I sighed. I had received a curt little note from the lead counselor. Where before he had called me dearest, he simply left me this note:

I have arranged for decorations appropriate to Westexan’s welcoming back to be delivered to our gathering place. Would you so kindly step out of the solace of your shadows long enough to hang the decorations and balloons?

Thank you.

Miffed a little? I suppose so. I asked my counselor about it, my head resting on his shoulder, his fingers in my hair. “I wouldn’t worry about it too much Sweetheart,” he whispered. “He is just proud and headstrong, like yourself.”

But this was no time to be upset. Westexan was coming. I finished the last of the decorations with Scarlett Harlot’s help and finally got myself a soda (sans alcohol) and a piece of cake and sat down in my chair.

We were startled when the counselors came into the room without benefit of turning out the lights. My counselor opened the door first and held it and lo and behold, here came the lead counselor with Westexan in his arms. In her arms was a little bundle, his sweet little head against the lead counselor’s chest. He eased her down into the chair and he nodded at my counselor who turned off the lights except for our little circle lights.

The counselors settled themselves in their accustomed places. Except for the lead counselor. He squatted down in front of Westexan and looked at the pink faced little thing in her arms, asleep. He licked his lips for a second, a quick little motion and she leaned forward and he opened his arms to take the bundle himself then simply walked across the room with Cooper asleep in his arms. He leaned against the wall and gently tucked the blanket out the way of his view. Cooper seemed oblivious to the fact that the man who was holding him was not strictly human and it seemed to have been a millennia since he had held a baby. Westexan leaned toward me and whispered, “Think it is okay?” I nodded. He had been a father after all.

“We have a few trifles for our new mother we will give her after our meeting,” said the Southern counselor, as the lead counselor was otherwise occupied. Westexan laughed, “He will give him back soon enough if Cooper muddies himself,” she said under her breath. “I have never known a man who wanted to hold a baby with a shiatsu diaper.” I chuckled as well.

“What shall we talk about?” asked my counselor. Whatever we talked about this evening was not half as interesting as watching the lead counselor. While we chatted about the various small bits of news we had about the casting of Debbie Pelt and the various romantic entanglements and the spare little teasers from Alan Ball, we watched the lead counselor fiddling with the baby.

At one point, Cooper woke up and I could see his little hand reach up and grab the lovely feature protruding from the center of the lead counselor’s face. There was only a moment when I felt Westexan tense up and that was when the lead counselor caught Cooper’s tiny fingers between his lips and he shook his head in a minute fashion, like a puppy worrying a rope. He laughed a little under his breath and finally came to a realization that we were all staring at him. I could hear the young counselor snicker under her breath and the lady counselor clucking against her teeth at his antics.

Finally we gave up all pretenses. There was no way we would have a sensible conversation with the Kaiser in the room distracting the lead counselor and giving us such an interesting show of what? Tenderness? It made me rethink his gentle request at the bar Monday night.

The lead counselor finally brought the little bundle to his mother. He was awake and alert and looked around at all the strange faces around him. Everyone cooed and sighed over the Kaiser. He was our first, with Butter expecting, showing off her little baby bump finally. Having Cooper and the Kid there made the group a little more like a family.

“Here are a few things we put together for you Westexan,” said my counselor, bringing her a large gift bag. She put the baby in my arms and she reached inside the bag. The first thing she pulled out was a small leather box. She opened it and discovered a thick round white ring, decorated with engraved lines. It was polished and seemed very old. She looked up, quizzically.

“It is a teething ring, of polished ivory. I have had it for many, many years. It has some sentimental value, but it would please me if your Cooper would use it,” said the southern counselor.

“Your gift is far too valuable,” she said, offering it back to the southern man with a sad look on his face.

“No, you must have it, it will bring me pleasure to know a baby has the use of it again,” he said.

“Now mine,” said the young counselor, pulling out the ornately decorated box. Westexan opened it and found inside a light blue bunting with a little cap and booties. “Do you like it?” she asked wistfully.

“I do, thank you,” she said. “Cooper will be so beautiful in it.”

“Now mine, dearest,” said the lead counselor. Westexan reached into the bottom of the bag and drew out a large square of fur. She opened it. The inside was lined in heavy lamb’s wool, but the outer fur was a mystery. “It is of reindeer calf hide, I had it sent specially from Sweden. They farm them now but I remember….oh long ago…when you actually had to hunt them.”
“Thank you,” said Westexan, she looked up at him. “It is a lovely gift.”

“My gift is a little more practical, a case of newborn diapers,” said the lady counselor. “And a gift card to buy more. I understand those little things tend to leak.”
“Thank you,” said Westexan, grinning at the lady counselor’s candor.

Mrs. GS brought Westexan a big slab of my chocolate cake and I held the baby while she ate it. Dude brought her a big cup of iced sprite and the rest of us just hovered and chatted.

Finally, the Kaiser spoke and Westexan took him to the loo to check his nappy. I went to get another soda and the lead counselor came up to me. I looked his way. Finally, with a sigh, I grabbed his wrist and pulled him out in the hall. I reached around him to turn on the light. I kept my eyes on the floor, then slowly traveled to his feet, encased in boots, to this knees, encased in black jeans, to his waist and the double headed ouroboros belt buckle, to the edge of the red tee shirt advertising his bar, to his chest, up to his neck, where I could see his adam’s apple, to his chin, a little stubbly with golden whiskers, to his delicate mouth which gently captured Cooper’s fingers, to his nose, and finally his eyes, which in the harsh light of the hall way, looked like a stormy sky, green and grey and clear and shiny, to the top of his head, topped in golden hair. I swallowed hard.

“Not so bad,” he said. “Perhaps I’ll grow on you.”
“I never thought you would be hard on the eyes,” I said. He smiled at me. “Happy now? I have finally looked at you without the solace of the shadows.”
He leaned forward, his lips brushing my ear. “Yes, dearest, I am. It is so nice to finally be seen.” He gave me that lopsided smile, sexy and slow and turned and returned to the meeting room. Westexan came up to me.

“Is everything alright?” she asked. “Do you need something?”
“More self control,” I said, opening the door and holding it open for Westexan to reenter the party. I followed her in. It had been a strange and unusual night and would simply have to think about it later.

A Restless Night

I had been restless all day. I couldn't sit still, I was out of sorts, I was impatient. We still had twenty weeks and counting til our adventures began and I was feeling the strain. I got home and decided that I simply could not pace the length of my library (You know the one, the one with all the books the Inquisition would set me on the barbie for), smoking cigarettes and being bored out of my skull.

I undressed and pinned up my hair and got in the shower. "Where are you going?" asked my mother.
"Out," I said. I was not usually so evasive, but I was not sure that my parents approved of where I went. I went to my room and chose my clothes. A pair of jeans and a thin black sweater that I liked because it was elegantly frayed and had a tendency to slip off my shoulder. I unpinned my silvery hair and brushed it out. Leaning into the mirror, I smoothed on a little powder, did up my eyes with that lovely smokey look and and put on lipstick. I grabbed my small bag of eccentric ( a smaller version of my big bag of crazy and stuffed my wallet and smokes inside) snagged my leather jacket and headed out into the dying day, driving south.

The parking lot of the lead counselor's bar was crowded. I parked by his red corvette and slid out, careful not to ding the door and walked around the front of the building. I got in the queue and was happy to see the lady counselor, doing door duty. She motioned me to the head of the line, gave me a toothy smile, and allowed me to walk by. "Yum, Opium," she said and gave me a sly wink.

The bar was busy tonight and I walked around the patrons. One gentleman who may or may not be as the counselors are gave me a good going over but I ignored him. I saw Vi and our counselor sitting together, she with a glass of wine and he with what he was drinking. They were having their one on one session, so I just waved and smiled at them and stopped at the bar. The bartender nodded his notice of me and grabbed a pint glass and filled it with black stuff, again another perfect pint, and he sat it on the bar in front of me. I put the price of the Guinness in his brandy snifter and he smiled sardonically at me as I grabbed the pint and headed over to the owner's booth.

The throne, where the lead counselor usually sat to watch the action of the bar was empty. I wasn't here to see him anyway. The lead counselor always made me nervous. It was because I didn't want to like him so much, but he was hard to ignore. He was one of those men who knew how to take up space in such a way that being in his presence was extremely intimate.

I opened my purse and took out the turkish blend cigarettes the lead counselor had given me and I lit one. I sipped my pint and wiped immediately at my upper lip and watched the bar and her patrons. They were a strange collection of people and they seemed to be hungry...and these were patrons like myself. In the alternate universe we shared with the counselors, people like this were looked down upon but were a necessary commodity to the lead counselor's stock and trade. I watched the go-go dancers for a while. I may look younger than my 42 years but I knew I had never been able to move like that, even at 16.

Finally the loud techno-goth music dimmed out to a radio station I only heard when I was at this bar. Try as I might, I could never tune it in to my radio. Bob Seger was singing Bring on the Night about a Vampire like rock star who left exhausted minions in his wake and as the sun began to rise, he began to close his eyes. I closed my eyes for a second to simply allow the din of the bar become like a murmuring chant. I liked noise and action, I loved to sense it with closed eyes and open ears. I was so absorbed in my trance, I did not hear the lady counselor sit herself down across from me.

Finally, I opened my eyes to take a drink and I saw her.
"Having downtime?" she asked.
"I suppose so. Funny, the loud sounds of the bar and the music is actually soothing. Sometimes, my world is mighty quiet," I said.
"The Boss is right, you are a lot like us," she said. She was not happy or unhappy for coming to this conclusion, she was simply stating a fact. "So, why are you here, it is not your appointed night for your one on one."
"I just came to be here, to be with...friends," I said. "May I ask you something?"
"You may ask," she said. I looked at her face. Some people might say she had a hard face, but I thought she was beautiful. The lady counselor was a real liberated woman with a range of tastes. She felt no need to limit herself.
"Are you and the other counselors really our friends? I would like to think you are, but sometimes, I wonder," I asked her.
"Well, we would never let harm come to any of you, if that is any indication," she said.
"That's great, but that really doesn't answer my question," I said.
"No, I suppose it doesn't," she said. "What you want to know is, are we friends, intimates and equals?"
"Yeah, that would do for a start," I said.
"It is funny, we have been very separate from your kind up to now," she said. "But we have had to try to rethink your kind."
"Has it been difficult?" I asked. I lit another cigarette.
"Sometimes," she said. "We are basically snobs, even your beloved counselor does not see all of your kind as any sort of equal to him. We are interested in you though, the group and what you feel and say about us and to us."
"So, you would not be opposed to being social friends with us?" I asked.
"I am sitting here with you," she said. "There are others of my kind here to night and I could seek out their company, but I am sitting with you."

"So where is your boss tonight?" I asked.
"He is in his office," she said. "Tell me, Aslinn, if you will, why do you prefer your counselor over my boss?"
"See, I was afraid you were going to ask me that," I said.
"Why? Do you think I would break a confidence? Dear Abby says that trust is the seed of friendship. If we are to be friends, shouldn't you trust me?" she asked.
"Okay, so you want to know," I sat up a little straighter and sipped my beer and composed myself. This was just crazy, I knew, because I knew sure as God made little dew berries that the lead counselor could hear every word I was saying. "My counselor is exactly as you said about him in the first summer we met, he's a romantic. He treats me and all of his ladies like they come from his time, from his world. Oh, he is pretty straightforward when we get...intense in our counseling...but he is very...courtly."
"And the lead counselor?" she asked.
"Well, he is beautiful, I will say that, and while I have avoided having a one on one with him, I don't think I could escape if our session became...shall we say 'more intimate'?" I looked at her to make sure she understood the implication. "So I try to avoid being a situation where I would be more...frank...with him."

"You know, Aslinn, the lead counselor reads the things you write. He tells me you are very passionate about your counselor and he can tell you really care about him, but he also noticed that you write rather well of him as well. It confuses him, and my boss does not like feeling confused, as well you know," she said.
"I know, and I am sometimes confused in my thoughts as well. I hate to think I grieve him. A lot of the things I write are things about the others in the group, things they have told me in the quiet of the forum, as I peruse the floor late night, they write about their loves and lusts and desires and their admiration of him,"I said. "I just reflect all those back because I know that is what they are experiencing in their one on one counseling sessions."

"I remember one thing you wrote, something you recently reposted that he especially liked, the one called The Dreamer Must Awake. He printed it out and showed it to me. He was fascinated. He said you described him with a lover's eye," said the lady counselor.
"I described him with an artist's eye. The lead counselor is beautiful like a rare work of art, like The David, carved by the hand of the master. I see his surroundings as his personal lair, the place where he shuts out the outside world, the bar, his responsibilities, even us. Where he can go around without all the trappings of what we imagine him to be. That work is a fantasy, I have never seen the lead counselor that way," I said.
"Why do you always like him in shadow? He always complains that you never look him in the face without the shadows," she asked.
"There is a kind of solace in the shadows. Perhaps if I him pulled out into the light, I would not be able to look away," I said. "I have looked many times at my counselor, but I have never felt wary of him. The lead counselor makes me...nervous."
"Ah and there he is now," she said looking over and up at the lead counselor who appeared at the table like magik. She smiled at me and got up, nodded at her boss and left us. He sat down and took her place, leaning back so he was in the semi shadow.

"How lovely you have come to visit the bar," he said. "What brought you here?"
"I was restless, out of sorts, I needed to unwind," I said. He spoke to the table in general in a voice no human would have heard over the sounds of the bar and the voices of the patrons. "Bring Aslinn another Guinness." and the bartender appeared with another perfect pint. He turned and left quickly. I sipped the pint.
"I want you do something for me Aslinn," he said softly. I knew what he was going to do. I leaned back so that I would be cast in semi shadow. "This is beginning to hurt my feelings, I think, as I can't be entirely sure. I want you to trust me."
"I know you do, and it has less to do with you than you can possibly understand," I said.
"Do you think I would bend your will? Make you do something you would not want to do?" he asked.
"I would like to think there was something in you that would not do those things. But even if I trusted you, I would not be sure I could trust myself," I said. "I know what you are, I know you are lovely, and I know that I am not dead south of my belt buckle. So, it doesn't have everything to with you."
"You are his, I just think it would be nice if you and I could look one another in the face without the 'solace' of the shadows," he said, quoting what I had said. Damn it, I'd known better than this, I should never have talked to her so candidly here. His large hand covered mine and as he leaned forward, I shut my eyes.

Suddenly I was sitting alone at the booth, the lead counselor was gone.

Cooper

I had just returned from the meeting and fired up my computer and I saw the message notice on my yahoo bar and I clicked it. There was a note from Westexan telling me the little Kaiser was here and they were both healthy. I thanked the Lord and picked up my phone and called my counselor.

"He's here," I said, excitedly.
"Aslinn?" he said.
"Westexan gave birth to a baby boy, Cooper, they are both fine," I said
"Call the lead counselor sweetheart, he will be pleased," he said.

I rang off and dialed the lead counselor.

"Hello?" said a deep voice.
"I thought you might like to know, Westexan bore her son, they are fine," I said.
"All the gods of Valhalla...." he prayed softly. "What does she call her son? Certainly not the Kaiser."
"No, his name is Cooper," I said.
"Happy Birthday Cooper..." he breathed.
"Good night, " I said.
"Good night dearest, thank you for calling me," he said. We rang off and the lead counselor, the most powerful man in Northern Louisiana sat in his lavish home. He felt wetness on his cheek and put his hand up to investigate. There were the sanguine tears of his kind. He smiled a bit, then laughed softly and laid his head back and closed his eyes, still chuckling to himself that he would be so full of concern for those who were not like them. Perhaps they were right, he was remembering his humanity after all.

Meeting of January 13

La Famiglia (The Family)


Red Headed Harlot and I were setting up the treats, silent, wondering about our Westexan and the Kaiser. God Speed was laying out treats, little bagel pizzas and mini CB's and Linzy made us some Hard Lemonade. Mel and Liz came in, Mel laden with cinnamon rolls as large as a Viking Vampire's gracious plenty. Dude and Sal came in with Butter and Fairy.

"Have any of you heard anything about Westexan?" asked Sal.
"Nothing yet," said God Speed. Lina came in and sat down her coat and purse and came over and got into the cabinets and pulled out cups and plates and plastic silverware (I love using my favorite oxymoron) along with napkins.

"Has everyone seen the new promo yet?" asked Lina.
"The back in production promo?" asked Dude.
"That would be the one," she answered.
"Only on the net, I haven't seen it on the TV yet," said Dude. That was where I had seen it. I was excited now more than ever. It was just enough to get our blood going, especially with the revelation that there would be a fourth summer of adventures. Had it really been almost two years that we had become addicted? Of course there were some who had been strung out on B long before the adventures began, but junkies are junkies and this drug was so deliciously addictive. Delicious, like a tea cup human to the Sheriff of Area Five. That made me think again of our Westexan.

Violet and Minnie Mouse came in and sat their things in their chairs, carefully preserving the place our Westexan sat. We could feel her absence, as though one of our nest mates had gone missing. Maybe that is how we really felt about each other on the forum, "virtual" nest mates, all cozy in our internet lair from where we watched the world with our counselors at our backs, shadowed figures that we trusted without knowing why. I shook my head from such thoughts. Surely this was a sign of just how deeply addicted we were, not just to B or TB, but to one another's shared addictions, only we really understood each other. Renee, Violet, Bella and I understood our love and admiration for Bill. Linzy, Lina, Burke and Fairy had their allegiances to Eric. Sal, Dude and God Speed were under the spell of Jessica and we all loved the rest in between. Even the villains were wonderful and we loved them too, even if what we really loved was to hate them.

We began to settle finally, Mikeylikesit rounding out the circle and it was not much longer til the lights went out except for the ambient lighting of the four little track lights that now shined down our little circle. The lead counselor, tall and mysterious in his shadow, where I liked him the most, was standing leaned against the door. My counselor, the one I shared with Renee, Violet, and Bella was sitting in his chair, his arms relaxed on the arms of the chair and his legs crossed. I could hear the young counselor whispering sotto voce to the lady counselor, asked her where Westexan was.

"Yes, has anyone heard from Westexan? Has she safely delivered her child?" asked the lead counselor.
"We don't know yet," said GS. "Aslinn has not heard from her yet."
"Even a safe delivery would be taxing on her," mentioned the southern counselor in his soft voice. "But, when you hear from her, please pass on our best wishes, won't you sweetheart?"
"I will, I am sure she will let us know soon," I said.

"What shall we talk about tonight?" asked the lady counselor.
I slid down into the comfortable chair and sipped my lemonade and bit into my bagel bite. Red Headed Harlot spoke first.
"Do you think we will find out about Sookie's other family?" she asked. "This summer, I mean, though it is so early."
"The first season was about love, finding love. Sookie is looking for it, Bill found it though he might not have been looking for it. Maudette was looking for love in all the wrong places," said GS. He was interrupted by Dude crooning "Looking for Love in All the Wrong Places" We all laughed.

"Well, Jason too and Sam and Tara, and Amy....Sometimes, love hurts...." said Liz. I opened my mouth and Liz gave me a look. "I know, I know, don't start Aslinn." I stuck my tongue out at her. :P

"And then, last season was about being held against one's will, and everyone was at one time or another trapped," continued God Speed. "Bill, Eric, Sam, Tara, Eggs, Sookie, the entire town of Bon Temps."
"Godric," I mentioned. We were silent for a moment, remembering the beautiful and savage Godric who's reborn humanity was too painful for him to live with. "So, this season is all about Family, finding family, defining family, loving and hating family.....This is going to be so tough."
"How so Aslinn?" asked the lead counselor. I saw Violet readying her box of kleenex. I didn't know if I was about to cry, but I leaned forward and made a come on motion to Vi for a handful.
"Family...is the most complicated social group you could belong to," I began. "You can love them, marry them or make some meaningful relationship with someone, have children." Again our minds went to our absent Westexan. "You can be a sibling or a parent and adult child, lovers and best friends, but there are a subtleties in the family. Like little things you say out loud and things you keep to yourself. Emotions you hold in check because they are so fierce that if they escaped, they would burn you up. Even the good emotions, all the love and passion."
"Like in making love?" asked the young counselor.
"Like in making love, sure, but even platonic relationships. You can love someone fiercely and it not have anything to do with sex, it transcends physical love. That is what sometimes makes it hard to be in family," I said. "Look at Tara and her mother. That is the most intense love/hate relationship I have ever seen, and we have all had them." Everyone nodded in agreement.

"And everyone is going to be reunited with someone who is family, even Bill," said Sal.
"So, what would you do if you found out you were not the person you always thought you were, like Sookie," asked the southern counselor.
"Well, she doesn't have anyone to confront. The only person she could have gotten the answers from was her gran' and now she is dead," said Lina. "Poor Eric, though, he doesn't have a family. His family died a long time ago and now Godric...." I handed her half my wad of tissues as she choked up a little over her Big Viking.
"That doesn't mean he can't explore something of his own self. Some people go all their lives without benefit of family and they find comfort or self by exploring the world. Perhaps exploring his lost humanity will be like a homecoming for Eric," said Dude thoughtfully. "Maybe Sookie will help him do that."

"But family means betrayal sometimes," said the lead counselor. The southern counselor looked up at him but the lead counselor did not acknowledge him.
"Sure, I mean, again, look at Tara and Lettie Mae," said Mel.
"And Bill and Sookie," I said. "That is what we are thinking right? That Bill betrays the seed of a family he trying to make with Sookie by asking her to marry him and goes back however briefly with his maker...at least in the Connection's world...in the Source's world, it may not be be quite like that."
"And then Sookie betrays Bill," said Bella.
"Not really," said Red Headed Harlot."I think that Sookie turns to Eric out of pain and desire...lots of desire, sure, why wouldn't she? But part of it is pain, and if the Source makes Eric as he was in the Connection's world, then she finds something sweet and gentle in him. Of course he is still a Vampire and lethal and all that, but there is something sweet about him that might in someways remind her of Bill. There is a lot of healing that goes on between people who are alone. And just then, there weren't two lonelier people in the world than Eric and Sookie. She even said it herself, that Eric had gained something that night, he had gained her, and in a way, she had gained her feeling of being loved."

"And then he forgets," said God Speed.
"But then....he remembers, he remembers everything, and he remembers most of all that he was happy," said Linzy, finally.
"Family." I said it aloud, unbeknown to me til I realized everyone was waiting for me to finish. "It doesn't matter how much you kick and scratch and gouge and spit and fight among family, you still are, at the end of the day, family. And family, sometimes, is the safest place to be."

We broke up the meeting not long after that and went our own way. The last one out was the lead counselor. He stopped for a moment at Westexan's chair and put his hand on it. His went up and pulled the Thor's Hammer out of his shirt and fingered it. He looked up at the ceiling and saw past the ceiling to the black sky. He stood there silently for a moment and closed his eyes. Was the lead counselor praying? Could he remember how? Even so, the light from the small lamp shown on his fair features, making his hair shine like spun gold. Whether the Viking remembered his prayers or not, I could not say, but after a moment, he opened his eyes and left the empty meeting room, turning off the last of the lights as he shut the door.

Lina's Date

“Under your spell again….I can’t say no to you…” Evanescence- Good Enough

Lina was wearing the beautiful silk dress the lead counselor bought her, the one that showed off all her assets. She had dressed carefully for the one on one counseling session she was to have with him. The lead counselor had been a little miffed when he discovered that some of the ladies who admitted admiration for him had cast their eyes on the new comer to the summer’s adventures and Lina was surprised she’d gotten an email confirming their counseling session. Could she convince him that she was still his, that her wondering eye was nothing but that? She certainly hoped so.

She got out of the car and walked toward the bar. The parking lot was strangely empty except for the blood red Corvette the lead counselor drove. She walked up to the heavy steel door and knocked. The door opened of its own accord and she stepped in. She had been here many times and it was usually packed wall to wall, but not tonight. There was music playing and she looked around at the empty bar, its shadows making the place seem bigger.

Lina straightened her shoulders and walked through the bar. “Hello?” she called.

“Come in dearest,” said the voice of the lead counselor. She jumped a little as if she had been goosed. Her eyes searched the darkness looking for her beloved counselor. “The dress looks lovely on you; did you wear it for me?”

“Yes, I did, I love the dress,” she said hesitantly. She looked over to the bar and noticed him there. He was standing there, his hands resting easily on the polished surface, looking at her with his penetrating gaze. Lina felt as though he could see straight through the fabric and see her skin. She walked over to the bar and slid onto the bar stool right in front of him.

“May I fix you something to drink?” he asked.
“Jack and coke?” she suggested. He went about the task of taking a glass, filling it with ice, pouring a shot of Jack and spritzing it with coke and putting a lemon wedge on the rim. He placed a napkin in front of her and sat the glass on it. She took the glass and sipped it. “It never dawned on me you would know how to make a drink.”
“I am a man of many talents,” he said, looking at her. Her heart rate went up a bit and he smiled. She wondered what other talents he had.

“So, where is everyone, the bar is usually packed on nights like this,” she said.
“We will open a little later this evening. I thought we would begin our counseling session here and then go…somewhere else in a little while,” he said. “So, tell me Lina, do you think we will have a great adventure this summer?”

“Oh yes,” she said, meaning every word. “I think we will have a wonderful adventure this summer. I can hardly wait.”
“I can hear the anticipation in your voice,” he said. “I like to hear that. I am quite excited as well…” he paused for a second and looked directly into her eyes. “Quite excited.”

The music changed. Evanescence was crooning about a lost love. He took her hand and led her to the end of the bar and out to the dance floor. He gathered her up in his arms, pressing her close to him. Boy, he was excited.
“Crave my heart and it’s bleeding in your hands…I can’t say no to you,” the songstress sang as Lina looked up into the lead counselor’s face. He could feel her heart pounding like a drum against his chest and he felt her blood racing her veins as they swayed. Experimentally, he leaned forward and put his face in her neck and nuzzled her there. She could feel a puff of cool air against her neck, where her neck melts into her shoulder. The lead counselor smiled, she could feel his lips curving into a smile against the sensitive skin of her neck. He looked at her.

“Who will you be most interested in during the adventure?” he asked casually, his hands, pressing her just a little tighter against him.
“Well, of course, Eric,” she said, looking into the counselor’s eyes.
“No one else?” he whispered, putting his face back against her neck.

Lina closed her eyes. Who else in the world was there to be interested in? There was no one in the world like him, why would she be interested in anyone else?
“No, “she said, “No one at all.” She was dizzy and her mouth was dry to her. He moved to face her again. He leaned forward and his mouth brushed hers.
“Mine, lover,” he whispered. “You are mine.”

“Take care of what you ask of me…. ‘Cuz I can’t say no …” Good Enough- Evanescence.

Sweet dreams Lina

January 6th Meeting

January 6 2010 Meeting of the True Blood Anonymous Group

I walked into the beautifully appointed meeting room and began to brew coffee in our brand new coffee maker and set out the clean red ceramic cups and made the various forms of nevermind available. We had a rollicking New Years on the forum and other places. I shivered at the thought of my very special time with my counselor. I wondered if Fairy thought about her time with the lead counselor. I for one hoped that she had calmed him down. He was very upset when I spoke to him and then, before I left….I sighed over that too.

Red Headed Harlot (Eric Lover) came in and sat her purse down on her chair and came over and claimed a cup and poured a heaping helping of Irish wallop into her cup and waited patiently until the coffee was finished brewing. We had been busy during the holidays and we had not spent as much time on the forum but what time we spent, we spent it speculating. With the ensuing bout of confusion about that infernal pooch among the Eric Girls, there was in turn talk of the new woman in Eric’s life. Perhaps we would speak of her.

God Speed came in with a big plate of decorated sugar cookies. I immediately grabbed one and munched it while I waited for the coffee. Butter came in with some lovely cinnamon confection and I ate my cookie quickly to grab one of those lovely warm treats. Junkies are known for their sugar cravings and I needed the extra energy. Here we were 21 ½ weeks until June and it was so close yet so far away.

God Speed and I chatted about the award show and all the things we still had to do, gathering up jpegs, and film clips and beginning the voting process, which was moving along.

Renee and Burke and Lina and Linzy and Bella and Sal came in. By then the coffee was finished and the room was fragrant with the smells of coffee and alcohol. Westexan stepped into the room with Dude walking behind her, clucking and complaining about why she was here and she should be home and relaxing, her coming out party so close. He did not relax until she was safely deposited into one of the new comfy chairs with the lumbar support.

“Hiya mommy,” I said, bringing her a cold sprite and one of the cinnamon goodies. “”Westexan, you cannot break your water or give birth here, I don’t know nuthin’ about birthin’ no babies.”
“I think I will be okay,” she said. Mel and Liz came in and got their coffee and goodies and we all began to move to the circle and settle. I looked over at Fairy. She had the look of someone completely sated. Yeah, she had a good time with the lead counselor. Vi and Minnie were settling down with their cups and treats and chatting about the challenges of finding that perfect Valentines dress.
Before we knew it, the lights had gone out and our counselors simply appeared at their places.

“The first meeting of the New Year,” said my counselor in his soft southern. “I am so happy we are all together. What shall we discuss tonight?”
“I wish to thank Aslinn for the wonderful little piece she sent me out of her newest literary acquisition. I was moved to laughter,” said the deep voice at the door. I looked at Red Headed Harlot and rolled my eyes. What he had actually texted me was ROTFLMAO. “I had been….quite….upset…last week.”

Burke shifted uncomfortably in her chair along with Lina and Linzy. Burke muttered something under her breath.

“What was that?” asked the lead counselor. I could hear the soft giggle of the young counselor and the lady counselor’s terse cluck of tongue against teeth, impatient.
“I SAID…”began Burke angrily, “There is a big reason for the Eric girls to be upset right now.”
“Please, go one Burke,” said the lady counselor. I could see the lead counselor do some uncharacteristic shifting from one foot to the other.
“I’m just saying that we don’t appreciate that…woman…in Eric’s life,” said Burke. “The dancer.”
“What about her?” said the lead counselor.
“Well, she’s a tramp, she’s a trollop, she’s…”said Burke, at a loss for words.
“A slattern?” offered the young counselor.
“Don’t encourage them,” I heard the lady counselor mutter to her protégé.

“What about this liaison troubles you, “asked my southern counselor. I could tell by the subtle tone of his voice that he was amused.

“Well, we don’t like seeing him all touched up by that low, common, sleazy…wench!!!” said Lina.
“Yeah, I mean, the Big Viking is ours,” said Linzy. “We love him…”
“Yeah, but he is a man,” I said. “He has needs. Besides putting Sookie in a lip lock a couple of times in a dream he hasn’t gotten any…companionship.”
“Well, how will you feel if Bill hooks back up with his maker?” asked Dude.
“It is something I have come to terms with. It happens in the world of the Connection so it will happen in the world of the Source,” I said. “You know girls, Eric is free and waaaaaayyyy over 21. He can date if the spirit moves him.”
They did not look convinced. I rolled my eyes as Red Headed Harlot did.

“I like it that Eric is getting with someone, maybe then it will make him wonder what human relationships are like and maybe prompt him to investigate a relationship with Sookie,” said Red Headed Harlot. “Besides, what if she in the employ of the queen, has anyone thought the queen could be using her to infiltrate Eric’s slice of Louisiana and keep tabs on him?”

You could hear a pin drop. The lead counselor looked down at the southern counselor. They exchanged glances.

“Do you think so?” asked the lead counselor.
“Sure,” said Red Headed Harlot. “I mean, she appears out of nowhere and he becomes interested in her and….it has happened before with Daphne and Sam.”
“But wouldn’t that make it obvious?” I asked.
“Maybe,” she said. “But it would make sense at the same time. Nobody would expect it, they would say: ‘No way, the Source wouldn’t do that, he’s done it before,’ but that is when it would strike and nobody would really expect it.”

“I think we should end it right there,” said the lady counselor.
“Yes, we should,” said the lead counselor. “We have a lot to think about.”

New Years Day

New Years Day

"I will be with you again," U2- New Years Day
"We'll drink a cup of kindness yet for days of Auld Lang Syne" Robert Burns- Auld Lang Syne

I walked, a little unsteady, out of the lead counselor's office and went to the bar. The bartender looked at me. "Black Stuff?" he asked.

"No, another red wine," I said, a bit breathlessly. He sat the glass in front of me and I sipped it, trying to compose myself. I had made my way through half a glass when my counselor met me. He was beautiful in a black silk blend suit and white shirt and red tie.

"Have you been waiting long?" he asked in his soft voice.
"No," I said. "I just got through speaking to the lead counselor."
"And were able to calm him?" he asked.
"Maybe?" I said. I really couldn't say that I had. I really had very little recall except I was a little breathless and troubled, as I always am when I am around the lead counselor.
"I am sure you did what you could," said my southern counselor in his soft voice. I hoped I hadn't done everything I could. "What are you drinking?"
"House red?" I said. He looked at the bartender.
"She is drinking Chateau Margaux," said the bartender. "The bosses personal cellar."
"Bring her a bottle then," he said casually. He led me over to the booth. I looked at the throne. He was sitting there, waiting for Fairy I presume. He looked over at the lead counselor.
"Well, at least he is sitting his throne," said my counselor.
"Fairy is spending the New Years with him," I said. Ginger came to our table, a fresh bottle of Margaux in a bucket of ice and two bottles of my counselor's libation. He poured me another glass.
"I'm glad you could spend the New Year with me," he said. I looked into his wonderfully cobalt blue eyes.
"Are you really?" I said.
"Of course," he said. "You know how fond I am of you."

Fairy walked into the bar about that time. She wore red, which was good. The lead counselor liked women who could wear red. She walked up to his dais and he handed her up and guided her to sit in the chair beside him. There were women and men all over the bar staring at her, envying her.

"Let's go to your house?" I suggested.
"Don't you want to dance with me?" he asked.
"There is no law that says I can't dance with you at your house," I said.

Fairy and the lead counselor were content to sit and watch the dancers in the bar. He ordered with a flick of his fingers a bottle of Dom Perignon, and opened the bottle himself and poured Fairy a glass of the champagne. After she had drunk a glass, he took her on the dance floor. It was a slow song, Slave to Love, and he pulled her very close to him.

"I am so glad you are here," he said.
"I am glad to be here with you," she said breathlessly.
"Have you made your New Years resolution yet?" he asked.
"No," she said.
"Make your resolution now lover," he whispered, burying his face in her neck.

The fire was roaring in my counselor's parlor. He had put on his stereo and he were swaying to some low piano music. I think it was Debussy's Claire de Lune. I was staring into his face, looking into his eyes, my fingers in his hair. "Can I ask you for something?"
"What Sweetheart?" he asked, his hands, so wonderfully articulate, soothing me.
"Can you leave me my memories?" I breathed. He smiled at me and bent his head closer to me.

At the lead counselor's house, Fairy was feeling herself breathless. After the dance, he had led her out to his car and he had driven very fast to his house, driving as though he were racing the sun. She watched him and his determined face and there was a part of her that wanted to touch him, but if she touched him, she knew he would cast his gaze upon her and if he did that she might simply die right there.

He parked and opened his door and came around and handed her out of his car. He led her to his door and opened the door and ushered her inside. He followed her. She turned to him and he gathered her up in his arms. He held her tightly almost too tightly. He kissed her and then looked at her.

"Tell me, are you mine?" he whispered. She looked at him, trying to gather her thoughts.


"Yes, I will leave you to remember what happens," he said to me. I put my arms around his neck and laid my head against his silent chest.
"This is what I have always wanted," I said.


"Yes, yes, " said Fairy, her voice thick with emotion and desire. "I am yours."

10, 9, 8, 7,

If there was a struggle against what was happening, you would never know it. If there was a doubt, it was a mystery. There was only desire and affection and hope and expectation and excitement and lust.

6, 5, 4, 3,

And the old year was being shed, like a suit of clothes, and the past was colliding with the future, like two warm bodies in rapture. And there were no doubts, no fears, no hesitating.

2, 1....

And a kiss, an unbelievable kiss, the deepest kiss you have ever had and then all fades in heat and passion and lust and even love and surrender.

Happy New Years

All Apologies

All Apologies

I parked in front of the bar on this New Years Eve. I slid carefully from my car and smoothed the soft silk of the long black skirt and straightened the purple and black lace blouse. I smoothed my hair back and grabbed my purse. I could hear the sounds of the stereo system thumping, reverberating through the early darkness. I was to meet my counselor for a couple hours here and then we would travel to his house for a few hours of quiet celebration. A call before I left was a call to come a little early so I could talk to the lead counselor. I didn’t want to do this. I didn’t want to be this close to him, he troubled me in ways I didn’t like. But my counselor’s voice said that I must do this for not only him but the lead counselor. I sighed and agreed.

Apparently, the lead counselor was quite upset with a couple of his girls who were showing an interest in the werewolf. I could certainly understand them. Girls interested in our lead counselor were attracted to him for many things, but I suspect what they liked the most about him was his ability to be a very lethal man when he wanted to be. He was a bad boy, and there was something endlessly erotic about holding something that powerful in your arms and knowing that while you are with him, no one will harm you. Conversely, this same ultra protective, dangerous quality could become a bothersome trait of jealousy. This was not really my problem. I was not one of his girls, though I was troubled by him and moved by him and only a stone would be able to stand so close to him and not feel a surge of…well a surge.

I queued up at the door, but the beautiful blond in her red sequined gown came and escorted me into the bar. “He is in his office, go there now, I’ll have Ginger bring you a drink,” she said.

“Red wine, please?” I said tentatively. She smiled her sardonic smile and I smiled nervously back. I went into the bar and walked around the moderately room and went to the door. My hand was raised to knock but a voice interceded.

“Come in Aslinn,” the voice said on the other side. I looked down at myself and stepped in. He was sitting with his back turned to me. I looked over at the computer screen and saw the familiar and much loved layout of the forum. “Please sit dearest.” I sat down. Suddenly he said, “Come in Ginger.” The blond waitress came in and brought me a large glass of red wine. I took it and smiled at her. She smiled back but her eyes lingered at the chair where she knew her beloved “master” sat, troubled.

I sipped the wine and sat it on the corner of the desk.

“On the book case you will find an ashtray and five packs of Turkish blend,” he said. I stood and got the ashtray and a pack of cigarettes and opened them and took one out and lit it, inhaling the sweet tobacco. I sat there, smoking reflexively, waiting.
“Are you going to turn around and speak to me, or are you just going to sit there with your back to me and breathe my second hand smoke?” I asked. He laughed softly. He turned in his chair, in semi shadow.
“You look lovely tonight Aslinn,” said the lead counselor. “You are here to be with your counselor?”
“Yes, one of the other girls is away for the holidays, so I get to spend the New Years with him and she gets to be with him for Valentine’s Day.”
“Do you get jealous? Of the other ones who counsel with him?” he asked, his voice very calm, but his mouth was set in straight line, he was troubled, I could tell.
“No, there is enough of him to go around. Why should I begrudge him the pleasure of their company? Variety, they say, is the spice of life,” I said.
“There is variety and then there is variety,” he said, his mouth betraying his distaste.
“So, what is the matter my friend?” I asked. I called him that, but was he my friend?

“I hate dogs. They are scum,” he said succinctly.
“A little hard on him aren’t you?” I said. “If you were well versed in the other world, you know nothing comes of it. The girls are just a little excited about him is all. It is you they are dedicated to.”
“Are they?” he asked.
“Of course they are, what does he have that you don’t surpass?” I said. “But, then, I am a bit bigoted. I like your kind better.”
“Do you Aslinn?” he asked softly.
“Of course,” I said. “So, you should ignore this spot of bother, he really isn’t worth the effort. With whom are you spending your New Years?”
“Fairy is coming tonight to see the New Year with me,” he said.
“Then you would not want to disappoint her by being sullen and angry,” I said. I sipped the wine and sat back. He was still looking at me.
“No, that would not do,” he said.” How much longer dearest, before our adventure begins again?” he asked.
“Right around twenty-two weeks,” I said. “Not really long at all, it will be June before you know it.”
“Are you excited?” he asked.
“Of course, we all are,” I said. “Are you excited?”

“Very,” he said. He stood up and came around the desk, brushing by me. He took my hand and pulled me up. I looked way up, being 5’2”, he was endlessly tall, towering above me. I swallowed hard. He leaned down a little, slid one of his arms around my waist and put his lips on my cheek, brushing them on my skin. My heart stopped a second and he chuckled. “Happy New Years, Aslinn.”
“Happy New Years,” I said.
“I feel better now, thank you for speaking with me,” he said, his lips still against my cheek.
“You are welcome,” I said softly. “Are you going to let me go?”
“Maybe…” he said

An Emergency Meeting of the Counselors

An Emergency Meeting of the Counselors at the home of the Sheriff.

The Viking paced across his living room floor, in front of the stacked stone fireplace and the custom painting of the Valkyrie by Frank Frazetta. The Southern counselor and his protege were sitting on the sofa. The Lady counselor was sitting in the danish modern chair, her legs crossed. They all stared, watching the blond giant stride with his long legs back and forth, their eyes tracking him like tennis fans in the hypnotic throes of the game.

"How can this have happened?" he said, growling under his breath, his teeth clenched. "I rise from my rest and I take a look at the forum and what do I see? I see that my friends have decided to take some common, ordinary mutt into their fold. If that flea bag isn't careful, I shall wear his hide across my shoulders as I did in my youth."

"Will you please sit down," said the lady counselor. "If I had an equilibrium, I would be sea sick. I really don't understand why you are upset."
"It is simple curiosity," reasoned the southern counselor.
"How would you like it if your Violet or your sweet Aslinn were defecting to that overgrown fur ball," said the Sheriff, sitting down in the leather chair, his hands resting heavily on the ends of the arms of the chair. "Why aren't your girls defecting?"
"I wouldn't say they aren't defecting. From time to time, I have seen Aslinn and Vi and even my lovely Bella (Nia) look your way," said my counselor.
"But they are looking at me, they aren't looking at some cross species canine wanna be reject!!!!" he stood up again and began his pacing, the lady counselor just closed her eyes to the back and forth motion. The young counselor giggled at the lead counselor's distress. Quicker than the eye could catch him, the lead counselor was in front of the red headed girl, his hand upon her throat, raising her above him. Her terrified blue eyes looked down at the greenish-grey orbs peering up her. "You needn't laugh sweetheart, your precious Sal (Hoyt) has thrown you over for some Italian Soccer girl," he said through clenched teeth.
"Sheriff, set her down," said the southern counselor, on his feet, his fangs snicked out.

The lead counselor looked him, his own fangs snicked out. He dropped young counselor and turned to the dark haired man in front of him. "I cannot have this going on. We need them. If I had known this creature would cause such a furor I would have done everything in my power to keep from making his appearance in our summer adventure. Now he is here." He walked away, the light snick of his fangs being retracted was clearly heard. The southern counselor sat down by his protege and looked at her, giving her a reassuring nod. She nodded back a little at her maker. "Jen and Burke, they sport those signatures and proclaim their interest in that mongrel. Even Linzy says she may interested."

"They will calm down, before you know it, they will be back, rhapsodizing over you and your various talents and physical attributes," said the lady counselor. "Why would any man or woman turn their back on one of us for one of those four legged flea circuses? He is the flavor of the month. Like those little pocket book dogs. But they always get dumped at the pound. We are...superior to them in all ways. Calm yourself Sheriff, those ladies will be back before you know it."

"Leave me, I want to be alone," said the Viking.