milliways_bar | (no subject)

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[elfwarning]

Pam comes downstairs wearing a fuchsia cocktail dress, which is actually quite casual for her, and stops in her tracks when she sees an overabundance of what seem to be Christmas elf dolls in the bar.

If this is someone's idea of decorating for the holidays, it's really stupid.

Perma-scowl fixed firmly in place, she strides over to the bar, elegantly perches on a stool, and crosses her legs at the knee. After requesting a high-end fashion magazine, she glances around.

"Creepy little shits," she mutters.

And she turns to her magazine.

She doesn't notice it right away but an elf doll has suddenly appeared on the bar stool next to her.

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A little while later, Eric shows up.

"The usual," he says as he casually swipes the elf doll down from the stool next to Pam and sits down.

Pam still hasn't looked up from her magazine, not until Eric comes to sit next to her. She notes the elf doll that he's swept to the floor.

(Another one quietly appears on the stool on her other side.)

"'Tis the fucking season," she greets Eric.

(And another one.)

Edited 2016-12-06 20:58 (UTC)

"Santa's little helpers in short skirts?" he suggests, because he is at the heart a silver lining kind of guy.

(No, he is not).

"What's with the creepy knickknack?"

She tips her head to the side in brief thought. "Mm, yeah, those are kinda nice," she agrees. Still, too cheerful and festive.

As for the dolls?

"I think someone's trying to decorate and doing a really horrible job-- okay, wait. I swear these things weren't here before."

The two dolls sitting on the stool next to her stare at them. Judging them.

He looks over her shoulder.
"Fucking Milliways," he says and reaches over to brush the elves off the stool.

None too gently.

That earns Eric two more dolls on the stool on his opposite side.

"Oh, you have got to be fucking kidding me."

Did two more dolls appear on the stool that Eric just cleared? Yes.

He rolls his eyes.

"As I said."

Fucking Milliways.

"Just ignore them. They're meaningless little pieces of junk."

"Ugh."

Pam scowls at them. And then she grabs the two next to her and plants them face down on the bar so they aren't "staring." And so she knows where they are.

"We really ought to stay away during holidays."

"We should, " Eric agrees.
And then he looks back at the empty stool.

Except it isn't empty anymore ...

Pam looks over...

"They're fucking multiplying."

Two more appear under her stool.

"Okay. You know what? You're right. Ignore them. We can do that."

"Do you think it is because -?" Eric says, reaching over to pop off the head of one of the Elves.

He's being scientific.
Jemma would approve.

"Because what?" she asks, as she watches him behead the doll.

And then out of the corner of her eye-- vampires hardly blink, so these elves are super magically stealthy-- she sees a flash of red under Eric's stool. There are now four elves clustered at his feet.

"Because we're being fucking naughty? Oh, for fuck's sake!"

A few more sprinkle the bar around them.

"It's so unfair. I mean, when that's what you're good at ..."

"Fucking Milliways."

"I would assume that being nice does the opposite."

A beat, as she glares at the dolls around them.

"I am so not playing this game."

"Yeah," he agrees.
"It'll pass. There are plenty of do gooders here who will make sure of that."

She utters another ugh with a roll of her eyes.

"Anyway."

Onto more important vampire matters.

"So, what have you been up to around these parts? Or should I say, who?"

He smiles. Slowly.
"Well, there's Tess. Put together. Hot. Business something or other."

Details.

Pam smirks.

"Yeah, I knew you were gonna say that. I met her."

Her smirk turns wry.

"But apparently I'm not her type."

"Oh, that's a shame. I'd have guessed she was the adventurous sort. "

Oh well. More for him.

"I did meet a young women who was very clear about you being her type. Once i told about you."

"Mm, I thought so, too."

But when he mentions another woman, she perks up.

"Oh, really. What does she look like?"

"Tallish, dark hair. Dyed. Tattoos."

He smiles a little.

"Experienced, I'd say."

"Now that is good to hear," she says, her smile widening.

But then there's a moment's pause, and she arches an eyebrow and asks, "She's not a fangbanger, is she? With the tattoos and all?"

"No vampires in her world. Or that was my impression at least."

"Mm, okay then," she says with a little shrug. "Nice tits?"

"Not bad. And talented looking lips."

"Ooh. Sounds like fun," she purrs.

"I'll tell you about her if you tell me about Tess."

Smirk.

"We can probably reach an agreement about that," Eric purrs in reply.

"What's her name anyway? And I suppose I have to get her first before you spill any details?"

"Andy? Ally? Something?"

Names are not his forte.

"You're so helpful," she says in a tone as flat as her expression.

"Anyone else I should know about?"

He looks at her, unblinking.

"No."

Because those things with Emcee are - not important.

Pam believes him. Mostly. In the sort of way that whatever he's not saying doesn't matter.

"Then the hunt is on for this Andy Ally chick," she says with a little curl of her lips.

"Then I'll see if I can lure Tess into my lava pool," he promises.

"Ooh, bet she could really go for that," she muses, already imagining the possibilities.

Hot springs sex is one of the oldest vampire viking tricks, but she knows it works.

"Who wouldn't?" he says with not a hint of modesty.

"I might even spring for a bottle of something for her."

Eric sometimes spoils his ~~pets~~ food. For Pam, being polite and not mangling them is spoiling them enough.

"Sounds romantic," she teases wryly.

"It's a good start. Before going down on her in the pool," he purrs.

"Now you're rubbing it in," she says, still smirking because of her word choice.

He returns the smirk.

"It's what I do best," he replies.

He's always found her funny.

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