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Ordinary	By : AKSiren Category: S through Z > Southern Vampire Views: 7030 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Southern Vampire, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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****Disclaimer****
I’m not making money off of Miss Harris’ genius. I don’t hold publishing rights. These characters aren’t mine.
****Disclaimer****

Mikhaila Dunningham was seated in a far corner of Merlotte’s smoking section. Her blond hair was clipped up in a twist, and her black turtleneck sweater and dark blue jeans caused her fair skin to stand out.
A few glances were thrown in her direction. Mostly because she was new, and the rest because she was half way attractive.

A blond waitress approached with a menu and glass of water. “Can I get you anything?” she asked.
“A whiskey and Coke, please. Jack Daniels, if you have it.”
“May I see your ID please?”
Mikhaila passed the woman her driver’s license and waited while the waitress compared it’s picture to her face and checked the date of birth.
“Thank you,” Mikhaila said when her license was returned.
The waitress smiled and whirled away to get her drink, giving Mikhaila a minute to glance at the menu. The waitress reappeared shortly, and plunked the glass down. “Anything else?”
“Chili, please.
“Coming right up.”

Mikhaila pulled a cigarette from her box on the table and lit up. Moving was stressful business and it was her first drag since the funeral. She chuckled. ‘We all have our vices,’ she thought. ‘Thank God I’ve been working on this one.’
She took a pull off her drink and leaned back to consider her options for the night. She could check into a local hotel, or head out to Uncle Stanley’s after dinner. She didn’t really want to be in that house all by herself. The house was fascinating in and of itself, but the neighbors and local landscape gave her the willies.
‘Stupid Uncle Stanley,’ she railed at the man in her head as she took another drag. ‘You give me the house out in the middle on nowhere, with your creepy friends, and you give Fredi the house in Baton Rouge. God, I really don’t want to go there tonight. Not alone. Not now. And I’m new here. There’s no one I can call, no one to ask. Dad is too busy; Fredi’s too caught up in her own little world. Dammit!’

“You’re new here?” The waitress caught Mikhaila’s attention as she placed the bowl on the table.
In reply Mikhaila nodded and said, “Yeah. I, um, inherited a house near here. In Hotshot.”
Unless she was mistaken, Mikhaila thought she noticed more people than just the waitress unobtrusively perk up at the mention of Hotshot. The red haired man behind the bar and a couple near the front slid their eyes her way. The older man next to the couple, however, looked directly at her.
Without breaking eye contact Mikhaila put her cigarette to her lips and sucked in the sharp smoke. When she exhaled it, the man seemed to remember he was staring. The second he looked away Mikhaila turned to the waitress.
“There a reason ya’ll’re actin’ funny when I mention Hotshot?” She studied the waitress as she waited for an answer.
“It’s just that we don’t have many people pass through Bon Temps to get to Hotshot,” the waitress responded with a tight grin. An older waitress with brassy red hair threw Mikhaila a frown as she passed.
Mikhaila pressed on, “And how is it that they heard me from all the way over there?”
“You might call it a family trait,” the waitress fidgeted with her apron as she replied. “And natural curiosity. They live out there too.”
“Hm. Please forgive my manners. I’m Mikhaila Dunningham,” Mikhaila extended her hand.
“Sookie Stackhouse. Nice to meet you. And if you’ll excuse me, it’s getting busy,” she smiled and disappeared.

Mikhaila finished her cigarette and took another swallow of her whiskey and Coke. As she ate her chili, she studied the people who had reacted when she mentioned Hotshot.
The couple seemed to be very wrapped up in each other, leaning together as spoke to the man next to them. The three sent quick, sly glances in her direction, the younger man half interested, the girl possessive and the older man watchful.
Finding it all very disconcerting, Mikhaila toyed with her cigarette box to occupy her attention. She glanced in the direction of the man with red hair but he seemed busy behind the bar.

When Sookie came by to check on her, Mikhaila asked for a cup of coffee and her bill.
Sookie brought her coffee and the bill in a jiffy.
“Thank you ma’am,” Mikhaila smiled at her and wrapped her hand around the mug.
“If you don’t want to go out there tonight, there’s a hotel…” Sookie trailed off as Mikhaila looked up at her sharply.
At the look on Sookie’s face, Mikhaila supplied her explanation. “It’s just that I’ve been trying to decide and was wondering about a hotel. To have someone say what I was thinking caught me by surprise.”
Mikhaila noted the relieved look on Sookie’s face, as if she’d been let off the hook for something.
“But I think I’ll go ahead and get to the house,” Mikhaila continued. “Might as well get it over and done with. Thank you though.”

Sookie nodded and disappeared. Mikhaila glanced at her bill and was pleased to find it low. As she dug in her purse, a hand picked up the slip of paper and a voice said, “Don’t bother. I’ll get it.”
Glancing up, she recognized the man that been had seated at the table with the young couple. She raised her eyebrows. “Thank you, but I can take care of it.” She held out her hand for the bill.
The man held on to it. “Consider it a welcome from Hotshot.”
When he put it like that Mikhaila felt that she couldn’t really refuse. She extended her hand. “Mikhaila Dunningham.”
He shook her hand and introduced himself, “Calvin Norris.”
Mikhaila gestured to the seat across from her. “Please,” she said, “take a seat.”
Calvin turned to give the couple he’d been with a quick nod and seated himself. Mikhaila noticed that he seemed to be giving her the once over. ‘Guess I need approval to get into the country club,’ she thought wryly to herself.
“I heard you say you came by a house in Hotshot,” he said.
Mikhaila nodded. “Inherited it, actually.”
“From who?”
His question didn’t really bother her. It was matter of fact and to the point. She smiled and replied, “My Uncle Stanley left it to me.”
“Would that be Stanley Kingsly?”
Mikhaila nodded in ascent.
“He died?” That question surprised her.
“About a week and a half ago. Three days ago we had the funeral. Then they read the will. Suffice it to say, we were all surprised to find out he still had the house out here. But he left it to me for some reason.” Mikhaila gulped about half her coffee and spoke again. “He loved it here. He was able to hunt and fish close to home.”
Calvin smiled. Mikhaila noticed that he seemed to be chewing on his next few words.
“What?” she prompted.
He caught her gaze and held it. Mikhaila’s eyes widened when she saw the golden-yellow orbs. Calvin spoke quietly but clearly, “Hotshot isn’t used to outsiders. It’s like its own little world out there. To people like you, we’re strange and unusual. We take care of our own.”
To Mikhaila, those last five words struck her as ominous. “We take care of our own.” She bit her lip to hold another smile in check. ‘Guess I better not piss off the folks in the country club,’ she thought.
Outwardly, she nodded. “Thanks for the heads up.” She tossed back the rest of her coffee and stood. “And thanks for dinner.”
Mikhaila grabbed her purse and tossed a twenty on the table before striding out the door.

As she got in her car, she remembered something else Calvin had said. “Strange and unusual, huh?” she said. “If they knew about Uncle Stan I bet they wouldn’t think they were so strange and unusual.”
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Ordinary