FIXED VERSION… Sorry folks, I had a problem with Word I didn't know about. For the first group of you who so quickly read this, thanks and sorry… I was alerted by a kind reader and got it straightened out.

Even if one didn't breathe… a sigh was sometimes needed. This one was of disappointment, in the loss of the daydream, in himself for being distracted, and in the same breath disappointment in himself for being disappointed in being distracted. These breathers meant nothing to him in the end. That he was distracted from their gyrations should have meant nothing as well. He was entitled to his own imaginings even in the midst of another fawning and wishfully provocative display from another wishful minion. The woman symbolically grinding her crotch against the pole took his dismissal with a pout and clattered away on shoes that required she had a pole to dance on to even stay upright. She vanished from his perception before she vanished from his vision, excellent as it was.

In a dark flash of vampire speed, Eric Northman retreated into his office, scarcely aware the next woman who, denied a chance to entertain him opted at least to practice. The redhead began her lewd pretense of worship of the tall, smooth, hard, round object in the middle of Fangtasia. Even had it been the one she was wishing it was, he might not have noticed. What he did notice after a moment was the dour look on the face of the woman behind him as Pamela appeared at the door.

"I would ask what's on your mind, but amongst other things, I suck at being polite and making small talk, especially when I know the answer… even without being… a telepath."

The vampire seated at his office in a bar in the backwoods of Louisiana (skip that it was in a one of their major cities – it was still the backwoods in his lifetimes) sighed again, this time with a growl, this time with resignation and vague anger that cloaked affection for the female vampire that stood before him and knew him well. Anyone else able to know him so deeply he would have had to kill by now… but this one… she would meet the True Death for him first. That meant she could live… and give him that covertly tender look of distantly amused pity.

Pamela entered and leaned on the open door. "I don't know which one of us has had enough… you with your mind being in Mississippi, me with your mind being in Mississippi, or the dozen horny fangers who've exhausted themselves twitching their twats while your mind was in Mississippi. Even if you're dead they expect a little more life in you at night, so right now… you're bad for business. … and if you're going to sit there brooding and miserable and pissed at the world… you risk reminding me of Compton and that makes me want to choke."

That comment drew the vampire out of his unpleasant reverie and a cold blue gaze settled on the female vampire standing over him with a knowing pout on her brightly painted lips and low-cut ice-blue blouse. "Well, I can't have that, Pamela, anything that affects your swallowing is bad for business, too."

That drew a cold smile from the female that was a bit more honest in nature. She glanced around to gauge the nearness of anyone who might hear what she said next vs. the music pounding its way through the darkness that was charged with the psychic energies of alcohol, sex, anger, and always, always frustration – especially of late, especially since Sookie Stackhouse had become a greater presence in their lives but not the one that Eric Northman wanted. She wondered if he had bedded any of the fangers here in the last few days or just let them feed him, glamored them up a good fuck, and then sent them on their way to brag that they'd had him.

Satisfied that no one could hear them, she leaned back and pointed to the human woman three tables in from the door, with pert, barely covered breasts, shoulder-length golden blond hair, having a giggle with three dark-haired friends, one of whom was a regular. "I spotted one that one should be close enough if you close your eyes enough and she'll really think you're enjoying yourself."

He considered it, just for a moment, but then glared up at the female vampire he had made and managed a brittle, disregarding smile. "She would still lack the proper scent and I doubt even I could convince a woman I was enjoying myself if I were having sex while holding my nose."

Pam gave a sigh done purely for theatrics. "Why don't you challenge yourself and find out? At least make a show of picking one of them and feeding before they take their hopes and their cash elsewhere. I don't think you'll be on that one-woman diet you're hoping for for a while yet."

Eric shifted slowly upright at that, the briefest of guilty looks on his face but not too brief for Pamela to catch. For a moment, he looked as if he were about to tear her head off but then the frustration he had been containing found another avenue, a look of what would have been exhaustion on a human countenance deepened the long lines of his face, but only for the eyes that had looked upon him for a century. Offering him a vague smile, the female vampire leaned back into the hallway and wagged finger at the buxom blond three tables from the door. She hopped up with a squeal and obeyed without being glamoured. A few steps later, then having been thoroughly glamoured, she stood waiting just inside the office door of Fangtasia, smiling and waving at her friends as she'd been told to do and would do until her human body collapsed from dehydration and exhaustion.

Pam closed the door behind her and sat on the low couch across from Eric Northman's cluttered desk, already relegating the fanger outside to a checked off detail. She had sensed the change in her maker from the moment he had stood up and wondered if she'd gone too far or just far enough. Not sure which yet, she kept her mouth shut and waited as Eric turned to the small closet and began hunting through the collection of spare clothes he kept there. He stripped down to his underwear without a thought of Pam or the dazed blond woman being in the room although he was quite aware both were giving his ass an appreciative stare, even though Pam's current preferences ran elsewhere. Northman was well aware had an ass even a straight man could appreciate without surrendering his manhood, if he were secure enough in it. He came to the desk a few minutes later to sit down, dressed entirely in black, a silk shirt clinging to the long, elegant curves of his chest beneath the jacket and tucked neatly into his trousers. His face, drawn with contemplation and a new kind of frustration, contrasted his outfit's composed lines but there was no trace of anger in his manner and Pam relaxed. She still, however, waited for him to speak. She'd had her moment getting him in here and knew better than to push him further.

"You're right. I'm draining business and not the right way." He managed a thin smile at last but Pam still remained silent and let him come to his own terms in regard to timing. Now that he'd made his mind up to act, she wouldn't have long to wait anyhow. "Do you mind closing?"

"Of course not. What I mind is your being distracted. It's dangerous… for all of us."

"I don't disagree that my concentration has been… challenged the past few days but I need time… to know what the stakes are… to gain the right confidences… to know when to use them."

"Amongst them being Sookie Stackhouse. You know, Eric, you've gotten her into a situation where even I can… imagine… feeling sorry for her."

"I might be using her, Pamela, but at least it's for a goal that'll make things better for us all. It's almost as important to me as settling my own score but I can keep her safe for now and let her come to appreciate it later."

"That's assuming a lot about a human woman who hates you one minute and the next smells like she's watching you in an Old Spice commercial. Save her life one more time, show her what you can do to protect her better than Compton, make her see she needs you, whatever it takes. You can deal with all this shit better if you're not worrying about making her yours and your going to be distracted until she is."

Northman's eyes glazed over slightly, a slight smile fighting to gain access to his lips but ultimately losing. "Credible advice, my dear Pam, but the opposite tactic is more likely to work with Miss Stackhouse."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I'll let you know if I'm right." The tall vampire stood, stretching his elegant frame to resettle the suit into a perfect fit again. "You were right, I might need my strength." He resumed fussing unnecessarily with his clothing as Pamela waved the young blond woman forward; spellbound, she smiled up at Eric Northman. Her eyes took on a deeper glaze seconds later and she moaned and gasped. The scent of her arousal filled the room and her throat vibrated with a low groan as the vampire deftly removed her bra, tore through the side straps of the thong on either side of her hips and pulled it out from beneath her short black skirt, at least giving her the pleasure of dragging them slowly across her sex. The red thong was dripping and dark as he freed it and tossed it across the room with her brassiere. He leaned down and took her lips gently then stood up and stared down at her from a good foot above. "You were the best fuck I've had in four hundred years. I was privileged to have had you come … in here."

Pamela rolled her eyes at the mildly amused but distracted smile on his face. Northman's joke was for her, to tell her to relax, that he was still his clever self. The human woman standing next to him was far to gone to understand the entendre. Her eyes swam even though they were still on his face. "I'm so glad. You've made me feel like no human man ever has… ever could. I want to repay you, Sire. Drink me. Have me. Anyway that might please you."

Pam reapplied her lipstick. Anyone who thought she was whore had never met a true human fang banger. She twisted her lips to evenly spread the lipstick, watching as Eric arched his head back (purely in a polite show for the dazed fanger in his hands) clicked his fangs into place, and drove them into the young woman's bared neck. She whined slightly and took the only real pleasure she had that night from running her hands over the vampire's chest and stomach, stopping to spread them flat as she felt the muscles there clutch and release as he drank. The smile was still on her face when she lost consciousness. Eric took a few sips more, felt her heart slow just enough to be detected, and then picked her up and placed her gently on the couch, licking her wounds enough to close them but not enough to let them heal completely. He had no doubt she wanted the marks. "B Negative. If she's inclined you might have her the next time she comes in."

"I'll make taking a drink from her the admission price for her next visit with you, because you know damn well she'll be back now that's she's the best you've had in four hundred years." Pamela's smile faded. "If anyone asks, I don't know where you're going. But be careful when you get there… and more important, send a little of that B Negative up to your brain."

Eric Northman held the worried blue eyes of his progeny for a long moment then offered her the thinnest of smiles and walked out. Moments later he was outside of Fangtasia altogether and then he was above it, headed through the darkness toward the sovereign state of Mississippi. If he couldn't have the last part of his daydream, perhaps he could at least have part of the first.

/

For the first time ever, Sookie Stackhouse hated that she couldn't read a vampire's mind. Wherever the hell Bill Compton was, had she been able to, she would have been able to pull the truth out of him, know for herself that he truthfully did no longer want her. She turned over on the bed in her room in Jackson, reaching for the remote to turn on the tv and take a break from the string of angry questions that had started screaming through her head when Bill had called her and told her he was ending things. She needed some peace and quiet, some time to reflect. Maybe he had said something in a way that she was supposed to connect with, offered her a clue that he was lying… offered her a clue that he was in over his head, that he was trying to pro-.

The tapping at the window made her jump. Sookie rolled her eyes at her own reaction and turned, expecting to find the branches of a tree rattling against the clear panes of glass… what she saw made her heart jump and then pound for a moment but the alarm was soon replaced by dull amazement and a dazed curiosity that overtook her tortured thoughts.

Eric Northman was outside the window, his posture that of someone standing on any front porch. Except there wasn't one. They were four stories up, tall enough that while a tree tapping on the window would have made sense, it was, in reality, the finger of a vampire that was growing a little impatient. Her jaw hanging, Sookie unfolded her legs and pulled her pink robe more tightly around herself as she approached the window, wide-eyed as she reached for the latch and released it.

"My God. You can… you're flying."

"Technically, I'm hovering… and waiting for you to invite me in. You don't own this place but it is your room."

Sookie Stackhouse brought her chin up, getting over her initial shock at the bizarre arrival of her visitor. She stepped back and pulled the window open farther, her blond hair lifting in the breeze that entered as she did. "Please come in." She watched in tired fascination as a six-foot-four vampire stepped on to the windowsill of her hotel room and dropped down to the floor, affected by gravity once again, and now she knew - of his own choice. Her elfin face kinked up with a sudden curiosity. "Why do you have a car? I mean… if you can… I can't even believe I'm saying this… if you can… fly, what's the point?"

"It takes a great deal of energy to do so. We usually reserve it for special occasions and needs but it becomes easier with age."

"Oh". Sookie's lips twitched downward. "So which is this, a special need or a special occasion?"

Northman looked away from her and then looked around, sitting down in a chair near the small desk. "Neither this time. I wanted to know if you'd made any progress. If I couldn't stop you at least I could take advantage of your efforts. Whether I like it or not Compton is my responsibility as Sheriff, linked to him as you are, that extends to you as well."

Tired as she was, mind-blind to vampires as she was, aggravated and frustrated by Eric Northman as she usually was - she didn't miss the fact that Eric Northman had answered her without looking up or even in her direction. She let a sigh of frustration past her lips and sat down on the bed. Not now… not now, not when she'd just gotten that fucking call from Bill. The last thing she needed was Eric Northman to learn that Bill had let her go, whether she had had the chance to believe him or not. The last thing she needed to add to her grief was this. Alcide… He'd called him probably. He was in debt to Eric or Eric had just felt what she was feeling.

SHIT.

"You know, Eric, that might be a little true but if you were so busy that you couldn't come with me and sent Alcide, for which I do thank you – he's a real gentleman, you have my phone number. You could have called me or left a message or called Alcide if you didn't want me to know you were askin'. So as for your being here, I woulda' thought someone your age… could lie better."

His head lifted at that, a smile on his face when he did meet her eyes, although a very small one. "Perhaps I just can't lie to you."

"You lied to me pretty well in Dallas when I sucked that silver out of your chest."

"You were under a lot of strain. I probably would have failed otherwise."

Sookie scooted back farther onto the bed. "Not now, Eric, please. I know why you're here. You could feel me when I got that call from Bill, how much it hurt me, and you could do that because of what you tricked me Dallas. Before you say one more word, I want you to know I don't believe him. Not yet. He asked me to marry him; he meant it; we were making plans and then he was taken. He didn't just leave. He was taken and now some big pile of vampire bullshit is making him say and do things he doesn't want to."

"Or… he's come to realize he loves you enough to let you go."

"If that were the case, he'd tell me in person, tell me that he'd made a mistake."

"Are you sure?"

"Do you ever get tired of asking me that about Bill?" Sookie snapped, her arms folding tightly.

"Do you ever get tired of not being able to honestly answer it, to me or to yourself?" He was looking at her then, his crystalline-blue gaze sending a needle of ice through her gut via her own dark eyes. She closed them and looked away, not seeing him until he sat down on the side of the bed farthest from her. "I knew you were in pain but I didn't come here to talk about Compton. I came here to warn you about who he might be working for or … is being forced to obey."

Sookie's gaze narrowed at that and she sat up straighter on the bed, "So you do think someone could be forcing him to-."

"Vampires have been around for thousands of years, Miss Stackhouse. If he's gotten caught up in something he can't control, he'll have to do what he's told and I seriously doubt he's got the brains to find a loophole if there is one. For our own survival, we've been forced to create a society with rigid rules and harsh punishments, especially when we had to live in secret. One single wrong human learning about us truly existing could have sent them into a frenzy to kill us all. It's only been in the past ten years where leaders like Godric thought the human race could even begin to accept our existence, even with the advent of True Blood. In any time before now, any era, where you humans were busy slaughtering yourselves over imaginary gods, being manipulated by madmen, or unable to settle a simple land dispute without bloodshed – we would have been annihilated in short order. Our rules, our society, however harsh, ensured the survival of both our kinds but the type of obedience it demands is absolute, especially from a vampire as young and inexperienced as Compton. ."

Sookie sat back again, absorbing what she'd been told. Despite the fact that Eric's words had been a very clear insult to the man she loved, she knew in the back of her mind that Eric was right on more than a few levels regarding Bill. For a vampire, he was young. In the bizarre world of vampire politics, he was inexperienced. Eric could make political hay with the best of them from what she'd seen and even when it seemed like he was the one being manipulated, she always had the feeling there was something going on that only Eric was privy to for the moment. She sat silently, studying the dusty white bedcover, looking up after several moments to see the corner of Eric Northman's mouth trembling in an effort not to smile, obviously because he'd gotten away with the insult to Bill Compton without a word from her usually hair-trigger mouth. She sighed and swung her legs off the bed on the side where he sat, one very long, black-clad leg folded beneath him, pacing a tiny distance back and forth. "I'm not blind, Eric. I know that you can look at Bill like Bill looks at Jessica but that doesn't mean I shouldn't care for him… BUT… I didn't get into a relationship with him so I could get caught up in all this crazy vampire shit. If it were… you I could understand if it… if I'd found myself… involved… Get that look off your face, damn it!"

He did, immediately, to his own surprise. "I'm sorry. Just the… ah… thought of you entertaining that involvement was a bit… overwhelming."

"A thousand years old and the thought of being involved with a backwater waitress whose only claim to fame is being a better busybody than anyone has a right to be makes you feel overwhelmed? If I were in anywhere near the right mood, I'd have a damn good laugh at your expense, Eric Northman. Your either a better liar than I accused you of being a few minutes ago or there's something going on here that no one's telling me about. Oh, what a surprise that'd be." She stood up but kept her eyes on him as she uttered her last words, stiffening inside when she saw not one hint of reaction on the face of the blond vampire watching her. If anything, his calculated non-expression was even more controlled and that in itself told her more than he would have wanted her to know. He seemed to sense her awareness of that fact after a moment and looked away. He needed to divert her, perhaps divert himself even more so. He remembered his own selfish reasons for coming here, his own addled but somehow irresistible hope that if he couldn't have the last part of his daydream about her… yet… he might have part of the first. He'd lived a thousand years now (at least had some form of life); he could wait whatever time it took for Sookie Stackhouse to come to her senses, to have that night where she was looming over him, straddling him, ready to take him and enjoy his surrender as much as his flesh. The memory of the dream shot through him while he was in her very real, now very puzzled presence and he flinched back from her direction slightly, as if he were indeed, minutely, momentarily… overwhelmed. His groin had begun to ache, testing his control.

Whatever she was, whatever Compton had said to her, whatever pain she was in – she was still Sookie. She stepped forward involuntarily when he uncharacteristically snapped away from her, folding slightly into himself and looking away, her base compassion undoing her mood. "Eric, is something wrong? I don't think I've ever seen you twitch like that even when you'd been shot."

"Don't you mean… even when I shot you?"

"I didn't exactly want to go there but that's not the point anyway. Telepathic or not, I know you're holding something back because you look like you're trying not to look like you're holding something back and I don't care if you're a million years old you're not fooling anyone. So, what is going on here? Who's this vampire you think Bill is working for or obeying or whatever? I'm guessin' he's older and higher up than you, even?"

Caught out, perhaps because he'd unconsciously wanted to be, Eric answered her slowly and quietly. "You are correct, by two thousand years, in fact, in terms of his age. As to his rank, Ed-," Northman's voice suddenly trailed off and he looked away from the fixated gaze of the dark-eyed telepath, suddenly as uneasy as if she could read his mind. He looked around the Spartan room and was tempted to leave just as he had come. The window was still open… And in the next instant, he knew that would be foolish. Regardless of whether he told Sookie one more word about Russell Edgington, if he bolted now she would only assume something that would make her behavior far more unpredictable in the next few days, when he would need her to react as if she held not a trace of trust in him, as if his betrayal of her was as deep and cutting as it seemed, as if she meant nothing to him but to be another show of fealty to a madman. He could save them both and destroy Edgington but only if she had no doubts that he had turned on her utterly and completely, that his risking his life to save her in the past was now something he would look back on and consider foolish and weak. He only hoped she would understand once it was all over… if they survived.

Sookie Stackhouse gave her guest ten more seconds to collect his thoughts, the second ones he had apparently begun to have after he started telling her what she wanted to know and then cut himself off. She took a step toward him and he remained still this time, sitting on the edge of the bed and having steeled himself for the reiterations about to take place. He looked, she suddenly realized, tired – almost as tired as she was herself but for a vampire, the evening was young. She took a breath to demand of him again what kind of enemy they were up against, what she was supposed to do, etc. when she realized that she'd fail if she confronted him. While it was only a shadow of the grief she'd seen there, the look on his long, and she couldn't help but admit, elegant face was much the same as when he'd confronted his Maker on the roof of a hotel in Dallas, imploring him not to go to the Tue Death, begging him until he was dismissed in a way he could not refuse, left only with the comfort that she would watch over Godric as the sun consumed him. Godric's final, bizarre (at the moment) plea that she take care of Eric Northman suddenly came back to her and the spirit of that was, she realized, what had silenced her now.

Not quite believing and certainly not trusting herself, she suddenly settled down beside him on the bed, not touching him but within arm's reach if she opted to do so. "Eric, I don't know what it is you are or aren't about to tell me but I know this – if you and I have any kind of trust in each other at all this is the time for it to be important. Whether you like it or not, no matter what he said to me, I still consider myself Bill's until I'm told to my face otherwise, and even then, no matter how much you might want me – I cannot fathom being …involved… with a vampire again anytime soon. I admit, I owe you for saving me from the wolf, for sending Alcide to guard me, for letting me have a chance to save Bill or walk away from him on my own terms but I am going to trust you that you're not doing this just because you want to lay claim to me if I have lost Bill. There's a difference between someone being grateful and someone being in… in… involved because they want to be involved. Are we clear about that?"

Eric Northman was clear about a great number of things, what he was now being told amongst them. Not trusting his voice for a moment, he merely met her eyes and nodded then took a psychologically necessary breath. "I am clear about all of that, Sookie Stackhouse… and let me assure you that because you are a woman who wishes that made clear it only makes you more worthy of my involvement. When and where I was born, women were not merely slaves and concubines or without respect for their will or without rank. You would have made an excellent shield maid, battling at my side, sharing victories, sharing revenge after a defeat, sharing a warm stack of furs by the fi-."

"Eric!" She grimaced but suddenly, fractionally she smiled. "… and cooking your meals, and cleaning up after drunk Viking parties, and going out in the cold to feed the horses…".

"Actually, the horses often stayed inside with us."

"Well, at least they're cleaner than Maenads." She rolled her eyes and sighed softly to herself, feeling Northman's gaze, which hadn't left her, intensify and his lips twist with disdain.

"Compton still hasn't arranged for that to be dealt with? Were you mine, Sookie, your home-."

"Eric, not now… please. I'm not yours. I don't know that I'm anybody's and the house will get taken care of. After that, there won't be any maenads allowed in there for the rest of my life."

"… or horses?"

A smile snapped the corners of her mouth for a moment. "No, no horses either. " Sookie sat quietly for a moment. If she were to learn anything from him, she'd have to get him to trust her a little more. Sookie debated for a long moment, during which they sat in an oddly companionable silence, about whether she was using Eric or not if she pursued her next line of questioning but the truth was that she did have some curiosity about who he had been and if he did open up more, then she would be in a better position to help all of them – a position he likely ddn't want her to be in… but she was here already and she had a mission and that was something Eric the Viking and Eric the Vampire and Eric the Sheriff would certainly understand. Shouldering through her bout on conscience she squirmed herself back against the headboard and looked down at the tall, powerful, and now strangely quiet vampire seated near the end of the bed.

"I guess you let the horses in because of the cold."

Northman's pale eyes suddenly widened as he stared down and across at her, as if some piece of a puzzle, long lost, had surfaced and fallen into place, as if there was some unknown boundary he was welcoming her across. Why that frightened and pleased her at the same time she wasn't sure but if she'd entered into this line of conversation to make Northman feel more trusting of her, she seemed to have succeeded on the first try. For a moment the centuries had fallen away from his gaze and then it drifted away from her, back to the open window. "I came from a royal clan, Miss Stackhouse. We had a very large dwelling when I grew up. We could house the animals and ourselves without much inconvenience and their body heat was a welcome contribution in winter."

Sookie nodded. "That makes sense. It 's funny. I never thought of Vikings having anything but winter. I guess that's stupid. If you didn't have spring and summer, no animals would be born, you couldn't have grown food and saved it to eat."

Eric turned back to face her, his eyes warmer and tainted with more human emotion than she could ever recall seeing in them. "Life was never easy but it was what we were accustomed to, and in the height of summer the men would focus on building ships, on exploration, not everything was about mead and fighting."

Sookie smiled and felt herself relaxing a bit more, her goal of getting him to talk just to get more out of him about their own present situation had suddenly fallen much farther to the wayside. She wanted to know more about the vampire before her, back when he'd been a mere man – and not all that mere at that, given she'd just learned he'd been royalty. No wonder he'd looked so at home on a throne, no wonder that that throne hadn't looked as ridiculous as she might have imagined if she'd just heard about it and not seen it occupied. She shifted back and stretched her legs out. "Is this the part where you lecture me on who really discovered America?"

A genuine smile moved across Eric Northman's face, warming his eyes again for a far longer moment. "There are archaeological settlements I can take you to that prove they did, Sookie Stackhouse. Mr. Columbus was just in the position to assume bragging rights and as I recall, he missed the entire continent and first landed somewhere in the Bahamas."

Sookie felt a giggle surface. God, how long had it been since she laughed even the tiniest bit. She bit the inside of her lip and for a moment reflected how much Bill would hate to see her now, laying on a bed that Eric Northman sat at the foot of, making her laugh – and in the next instant she didn't care because she didn't know if he still loved her or not, and because wherever he was, he'd been in bed with that God-awful Lorena. For the moment, she opted to stay in the moment, and for this moment, she was comfortable and certainly safe in the presence of a thousand year old Viking vampire who was providing her a history lesson she never would have imagined possible. "All right, I'll give you that. You had springs and summers, were just fine housed up with the horses—".

"… and goats."

"…and goats, and your people were explorers, too." Sookie took a slow breath and locked her eyes on the blond vampire's. 'It was all so long ago but I guess you remember it like it was yesterday. When you were turned, it must have fixed up your brain so that your memories don't fade, is that right?"

Northman nodded. "What vestige of humanity we retain – it's crucial for that. Even though humans… were… easy prey, we still needed to be able to move amongst them, to understand them, to hide, manipulate their politics, to motivate their desires."

Sookie's gaze narrowed slightly when he finished but there was no trace of wistful foreplay in his words and a look of controlled longing still creased the fine lines at the corners of his eyes, framing a distant gaze that she remembered wearing all too well in the months after her Gran had been murdered, that Eric Northman wore it for a life a thousand years in the past told her how powerful and how unfailing a vampire's memory must be. Biting her lip, ignoring the little voice inside her that tried to warn her about "vampire shit" (that by now must have shouted itself hoarse anyway) she suddenly rolled to her side and reached out to the pat the space next to her on the bed but still an arm's length away.

Eric Northman sat frozen on the side of the king size bed, not quite sure, for the first time in a millennium what he should do when faced with a woman inviting him to lie beside her. He knew nothing was about to happen, save for an acknowledgment of mutual grief that spanned that vast amount of time… and much to his own surprise, at the moment, he wanted nothing more.

While she had sensed his long buried feelings, not smelled the wind of the North Sea and the tang of salt it always left in one's hair, this was the Sookie in the first part of his daydream back in Fangtasia, the one he had (to his own internal accusations of foolishness) come here to seek if only in some small way. …And for now she was the one he wanted more than the one who subsequently, in his dream, tossed him onto the bed and seized him with her powerful thighs and caressed him with her hair and lips. Shaking away that Sookie in favor of the modestly dressed real one in a silky pink robe, he slid the jacket from his shoulders and stretched himself out slowly onto the bed, exactly where she had indicated and no closer. Regardless of his suddenly chaste intention, the next memory that surfaced was the one where he had laid down with the first woman who had ever taken him between her legs and then taken him completely as he lay stunned and sprawled on pile of furs. He dismissed her memory before a smile that would cause Sookie to have second thoughts came to his lips. Instead, he rested his head on his hand and waited.

He didn't need to wait long; this was Sookie Stackhouse after all. Very little kept her from speaking her mind. "You told me about you and Godric and hunting those weres and that was World War II. Was that the worst thing you ever saw or when was?"

"In terms of the world, Ms. Stackhouse or in terms of Eric Northman and all the men he's been in a thousand years?" His voice had dropped an octave, just shy of the voice he'd used to offer her passionate, primal sex on her front porch.

Sookie hoped like hell that the small, involuntary, and potentially disloyal shiver that had just gone through her was deep enough that even a thousand year old vampire couldn't see it. She stiffened herself and shrugged against the headboard, "Both."

"I'll make you a deal then. You tell me why you are focusing on such negative things when I could tell you about the beautiful things just as easily?"

She looked down at him then, considering her answer. "My Gran was a real history buff. She drove Bill crazy about his time during the Civil War. I learned a lot from her about what people went through in the past, how hard it was just to get through a normal day even just a hundred years ago… and then you'd add something like a war or a famine or some terrible sickness but somehow those folks survived and it made 'em stronger. It makes me think that maybe I'll get through all the terrible stuff I've been around lately."

Her answer drew a long silence from the vampire, long enough that the telepath took her eyes from the pale wall and turned to look at Eric Northman with a frown that revealed her frustration when she was around him, the frustration that came from her suspicion that there was more humanity left in him than he could admit. He met her gaze when he became aware of it, tensing when he saw the confused compassion it held. He looked away as he drew himself up to sit beside her, no closer, but with his own back against the wide headboard. "Not to mention that those people in the past you drew inspiration from were long dead – and silent except for what their story told."

Sookie turned to look at him then, smiling. "Exactly. Words in a book, a voice on tv… and now I've got vampires, too. I can hear the stories first hand without all the noise."

Northman met her gaze steadily, steeled himself to open himself to this human he never imagined could exist. "If that's the case then, I'll tell you about the worst times of the world, Miss Stackhouse, as I saw them, inspire you if I can but there's not much more I can tell you in terms of the worst for Eric Northman. For that… you were there."

Her lips parted slightly when the words left his lips and she raised the back of her fingers to her mouth. "I'm sorry. I didn't think… I… I thought you'd just tell me about the Black Plague or the Holocaust or some battle you were in."

A slight touch of the securely smug Eric she was accustomed to return to the pained gaze of the blond vampire. "I did offer both the world's demons and my own."

Sookie felt the blush come up her face for two reasons – he had and she had wanted to know – had wanted to know him better and for the sake of knowing, not for the sake of her hope to get his guard down so he would tell her more about what threat they were facing, about who he suspected, about who was behind the clutch of corrupted weres involved in Bill's disappearance. She knew the blush had no chance in hell of being missed by him – a surge of blood to her face while a vampire watched her from two feet away. She needed to find a way to justify it to him and to herself. "You did. You're right. I'm sorry I brought all that back but I didn't mean to at all."

"I've had this existence for a thousand years, Ms. Stackhouse. You were there when the most important person in it decided to end his own existence and de-."

"Eric, like I said, I'm sorry. You've lived so-."

"Allow me to finish, Sookie. … to end his own existence and deny me the choice to go meet the True Death with him. I only wanted to share with you that I – I -", he paused, walking an unfamiliar tightrope of words. In the back of his mind the voice of the warrior he could unleash still berated him for the weakness, the vulnerability his halting speech revealed. Silence drowned out the admonition when he turned to look at the small blond woman sitting beside him, her dark eyes patient and growing sadder by the moment as the strange vulnerability his silence revealed registered in her mind.

"You can tell me if you want, Eric. If there's anything a telepath does great, it's keep their mouth shut." As she had on the roof where Godric had met his final fate, she reached across the bed and took the cold hand of the vampire next to her. The heat of the sudden contact caused him to flinch slightly but his hand, slightly clenched into the bedspread immediately turned and opened, letting her small fingers close around his own before gently returning her grip.

If he could feel what she was feeling before, her compassion suddenly flooded through him and to his surprise a small amount of guilt he hadn't been able to detect until now. He had only a fleeting impression of it before it faded completely. He looked from their joined hands to the tense smile on her face. "I was going to say that… I'm now glad that I wasn't allowed to go with him. If I'd met the True Death, I wouldn't have been here to protect you. If Compton was taken when he was at full strength, I need not remind you the danger you are facing."

"No, you don't, but I'd appreciate it if you'd just trust me with everything you know about who you think this is. You might not get here fast enough if I'm in trouble and Alcide is a very nice… man, and he's strong and he's kind and I trust him but if this is some supernatural that he can't handle, I'd… we'd be getting' him killed, too. They've taken Bill and now I'm being hunted and you've told me you can't guarantee you'll be around if I get in trouble, so don't you think I should at least know as much as you can tell me?"

"I've told you everything I can confirm. These are a group of werewolves that have wreaked havoc throughout history. I've encountered them before, hunted them, and seen the havoc they create, empty destruction for the sake of destruction, butchery for the sake of butchery. They have little control compared to vampires and if they're fed vampire blood they become what you saw in your home, just as much an animal in human form as they are as a wolf."

"There's somethin' else you can tell me, Eric." Before he could ask what, she plunged forward, worried that he'd guess what she wanted to know. "You being involved in this isn't about your being Sheriff and it sure isn't about Bill being missin'. So why is this so important to you? So important that you'd hunt these werewolves, that Godric would, that you'd keep your eye on them for centuries, and that had you so wound up you lied to me and then showed up on my doorstep to tell me the truth as focused up as I've ever seen you – and then you barely gave me a chance to hear a word in the were's head that showed up to kill me before you killed him. If you don't have any more information, that's fine, but you can damn well tell me why everything changed when you found out it was this bunch of Nazi werewolves that took Bill."

He'd forgotten they could do this, the breathers, so many of them that he encountered were either empty fangbangers or loud, silly, squeamish tourists looking for a thrill that he'd forgotten that, one-on-one, they were often quite perceptive and able to put two and two together. … and, of course, this was Sookie Stackhouse. In the next moment he wondered if their contact and her drinking his blood had allowed her to sense his thoughts, if not word for word, then at least the motivations behind them. He wondered if he should pull his hand out from between her two warm ones but, against his will almost, his fingers had begun to tighten around hers as she waited for an answer.

The irony of his presence was not lost on him either. He'd had come here seeking her out because he was distracted, because his past – the part of it that pained him most – was now a threat to her present, because he wanted her to know how it drove him to protect her – and she had figured it out, figured him out, and now, confronted, he sat frozen. She was not the seductive, dominant minx of his daydream but her instincts had somehow given her as much power. To tell her the truth would make her even more his ally, would grant him the loyalty of a shared pain… and that might endanger her more and endanger her for his sake by her own choice - and yet, facing her, the truth seemed to be his only alternative. Lie and she would know. Lie and he would become no better than Compton. Lie and she would be denied seeing that part of him that he wanted her to see. Lie and he would lose an ally who would hate Russell Edgington as much as he did himself. A dozen more reasons to tell her the truth passed through his head, stopping only when he realized she was looking at him with confusion and compassion overshadowing the look of demand on her elfin face. She spoke, quietly and slowly, her tone full of disbelief and wonder – uttering words he hadn't heard in over a millennia.

"Eric,… you're trembling."

He looked down at the hand in her grip and suddenly felt it, the tremor passing from his captured hand into hers. His first reaction was mute astonishment – the second was something he'd also not felt in millennia – embarrassment. He pulled his hand free only to have her grab his face in both hands. "Don't do this! Don't. If I'm mixed up in somethin' that's making a thousand year old Viking vampire who can fight and fly and fuck his way out of almost anything quiver like pup – I deserve to know what it is."

Sookie released her two-handed grip on the still vaguely shocked looking vampire, disconcerted more than she wanted to admit by the contrast in how she usually perceived him – in absolute control, unbowed, detached, analytical, radiating all of those things at once. Her right hand returned where it had been, holding his chin up as if she could stop him if he looked away. From the look on his face, she knew, had he had a beating one – his heart would have been pounding. "You told me you were risking everything to tell me the truth about those fucking Nazi werewolves and you were, weren't you? … and since Godric is already gone… there's only one thing this could be about… your family… your human family, whoever's behind this - that's who killed them. Tell me I'm wrong."

Eric Northman sat frozen, saying nothing with his mouth and everything with his silence. As the shock faded, other feelings replaced it along with the wish he had better learned Godric's teaching that he be master of his emotions and not slave to them. Foremost in his mind was his feeling of foolishness for having come here, for having let a daydream drive him to seek the presence of the one woman who he knew could undermine his plans, not with intention but with the distraction of her presence. He had, as the phrase went, bigger fish to fry. He'd rebuked Sookie for her own focus on finding Compton, only to give in to his own desire to have what he could of a daydream? How fucking stupid was he allowing himself to be? He owed his slain father better than this, his mother, his baby sister, his brothers …. And the time he had taken to silently rebuke himself had only added to his dilemma – by confirming Sookie's assumption, which were confirmed further by her left hand when it touched his face and came back into his view, smeared with blood from the tears he'd no more known about than the trembling.

Sookie wiped the blood from Eric Northman's face onto a pillowcase and met his eyes, her voice soft and low despite the impact of her next words. "You're better a better schemer than this, Eric. If you'd told me all this from the beginning, everything, then I would have known why this was so important to you. I would have done a better job listening. I'm assuming you've got a plan of some sort. You always do and as long as you promise me that you'll do whatever you can to get Bill out of this safely, I'll help you. I'll listen in to whoever I can. I'll back up whatever story you want me to tell to anybody. I'm only asking you to tell me what we're up against. That doesn't seem so unreasonable, does it?"

Northman straightened and turned to face her on the bed, pulling off the pillowcase and wiping the blood tears from his face and regaining some of his equilibrium. "I told you you'd make a fine shieldmaiden, didn't I?" She smiled slightly and kept her eyes on his still blood-smeared face, waiting for his answers.

The shock faded, the truth laid bare, the vampire undone and recovered, Eric Northman was now sitting cross-legged on the bed, facing a tired but determined telepathic barmaid. "I did have a plan, but I need a new one. A good part of it relied on your being unaware of how important getting rid of the vampire using those weres is to me. I was going to make sure you were safe, but if I had to use your connection to Compton… or … you, I was going to but only if I could guarantee your safety. I would never sacrifice you to revenge people who are long dead, even my family. You have my word."

A passing look of irritation crossed over Sookie's face but faded. "Fine. I'll believe you…. But what's the "but"?

Eric smiled thinly, "But that plan would have been contingent on you not knowing I wouldn't do that or how much this meant to me or how much you mean to me that I'd risk sharing the truth. It's too late for that now, my Shieldmaid. We have to regroup, to come up with another plan, only now I don't know if we'll have the time, to deal with this vampire and his weres, and to retrieve your Mr. Compton."

"Why wouldn't you have wanted me to know what was going on?"

"So that you would believe I was doing what I would never do, endanger you, disregard you, treat you like property I was using as a bargaining chip. If the vampire using those weres is the one I believe, he's been manipulating both our kind for thousands of years. He's not easily fooled. I have enough motivation and a thousand years of experience; I could have fooled him but one wrong look between us and he would have known that something was going on. If you had found your way into his presence I would have come to you, claimed to have arranged it, and continued earning his trust… until… of course… I was able to deal with him."

Sookie shrugged slightly. "You mean kill him."

"I was trying to be polite, Miss Stackhouse."

"I think I'd rather know he was dead." Sookie smiled thinly but her thoughts were moving elsewhere, her lips tightening and thinning as she considered what she was about to do, the truth of her own she was about to reveal. He'd never be able to use what he was about to tell her, not without her allowing him to do so, so there was no harm in sharing it. … and it would go a long way to proving to Eric that, if she were still Bill's, the lengths she would go to save him.

"Your plan, I can't say I appreciate it much but… I believe you when you say you wouldn't have let me come to harm though I might never have forgiven you no matter how it turned out. At least now I know why it's so important to you, and I have your word that you'll save Bill if you can. So, I have a surprise for you, a secret. Your plan can still work and no, I don't expect you to trust me to fool some thousands of years old psychopath."

Face to face with her, just about at eye level because of his greater weight sinking into the old springs of the bed, Eric Northman's gaze locked onto Sookie's and a stir of excitement began in his gut. She was scared, he could feel that through their bond, but she was also sure of herself, for the most part because consciously and unconsciously she trusted him. Keeping his voice level, the vampire took her hand and lifted it to his lips for a chaste kiss. "And you have my word as a Sheriff and a Viking Warrior and my mother's son, that I will never use this secret against you."

"…or for me in a way that you think is best without consulting me?"

"Agreed."

Sookie squared her shoulders and met his pale, still slightly red-rimmed gaze. "If I allow it and ONLY if I allow it, I can be glamoured. I felt it happening with Bill when I was around him and he was doing it to someone else. It started happening after I knew him better, after I started feeling closer to him, but I could just stop it, watch it from the outside. So, if you want, if you think you can pull this off, help me find Bill and get this asshole back for doing in your family, I'll let you glamour me, just to forget tonight, that you were ever here, that you ever told me anything. I just want your word that that's all you'll take and all you'll put in my head is that tonight I had a nice long rest."

Eric Northman's gaze never wavered in direction but somehow intensified to the point that it smothered the woman before him, distracting her so completely that she stopped breathing. Her lungs refilled with a small gasp, which repeated slightly as the slightly stunned vampire before her reached up to cradle the left side of her face in one large hand. "You've never told Compton, have you?"

"No."

"Because you don't trust him."

"For a lot of reasons. Come on, Eric, not now… plea-."

"Of course. Forgive me but the time is coming when your trust will be fully in its proper place. And as to what you've shared, I will do what you ask and just as you have asked it… on one condition."

Sookie closed her eyes, telling herself she should have known this was coming, deeply aware of the large, cool hand on the right side of her face and neck, the thumb stroking her chin. "What condition?"

"Kiss me."

She opened her eyes as a precursor to rolling them, her lips tightening back into a scowl – only to realize that her expression of disapproval would be lost on him. Eric was leaning toward, his eyes closed, and his lips slightly parted. The hand still on her face was simply there, not pressuring her at all in any direction. Apparently, she was supposed to take the initiative now that he'd made the condition known. If it turned Bill had opted to stay with that nightmarish Lorena, had had a true change of heart – then she would have enjoyed telling him about this if she were going to remember it. If he did still love her than this was the price, a small one at that, and he would never have to know. Damn them both then.

Apparently, Sookie found the condition he had imposed acceptable. He could feel the bed move beneath him as she came to her knees and shifted her weight forward, felt her breath on his face just before her lips came in contact with his. Only then did he allow himself to move, lifting his other hand to the opposite side of her face, using all thousand years of experience to keep himself in check when he realized that Sookie Stackhouse had not broken her contact with him after a single, chaste press of her lips to his.

'What the fuck am I doing?' The voice inside of Sookie's head was her own, but her body seemed not to be. She found herself unwilling to pull back once her lips had come into contact with Northman's. In fact, she found herself pursuing the contact when he began to move backwards, his grip on her face and neck remaining in place but not holding her to him. She was doing that herself, eyes closed, leaning forward, grasping his shoulders until she realized she was no longer vertical but horizontal, still on her knees and stretched out over his body on the bed. The change in position brought her out of the fog, made her listen to the little voice inside of her head that had been demanding to know what the fuck she was doing.

Sookie yanked her head back, away from Eric's lips and out of his grasp. He let his hands fall to either side of his head and merely looked up at her, smiling slightly in what have been a disarming and innocent way had she not been wise enough to know better. Which, of course, didn't mean she wasn't disconcerted – but by her own behavior. She had reacted to just being allowed to kiss him as if she'd been one of those slutty fangbangers. Huffing as she looked down at him, she dropped her ass back on her heels and ground her teeth. "There. I met your condition, Eric. I did that so that you can get on with this plan, so we can save Bill."

With that… the look of faux innocence faded from the Sheriff of Area Five's pale countenance, replaced with the self-assured smirk she found so vexing and familiar. "Well, for the first time ever, I'm glad … Bill… meant that much to you. I would tell him how much he means to you but I wouldn't be much of a gentleman under the circumstances."

That restored her dulled temper and he smiled anew at the spark in her eyes. "You're about as worried about being a gen- can we just get this over with?"

"I didn't ruin your willingness to be glamoured?"

"Eric, I've trusted you. If you meant all that swearing on who you are and being your momma's son, let's just get this over with, but you don't forget I'm doing this to save Bill Compton."

"… or at least the one you knew."

"FINE! Or at least the one I knew. I'm sure if someone you loved seemed to be betraying you but you knew someone might be forcing them to, you'd want proof, too. I just want to get this over with and I am tired and I don't want to play your little games right now. I'll let you glamour me… but you remember what you promised – nothing happened in this room-."

"—except that you had very good night's sleep," he finished. Sighing unnecessarily, Eric lifted himself up from his prone position on the bed, knowing that the time had come to show Sookie that he could keep his word, to give her yet one more reason to trust him even if it was one she wouldn't consciously remember. "Are you ready?"

Sookie took her eyes off of him for a second, "Hold on." She hopped off the bed and then got back into it, this time under the covers. She closed her eyes and composed herself, taking her lower lip in her teeth briefly before she opened her eyes again. Not one shield remained up in her mind. She stared up at the vampire leaning over her slightly and focused on his eyes, not letting herself be distracted by their color, their depths, or the vague emotions she saw in them. This wasn't about Eric. This was about herself, this was about the focus that she was exerting back into herself to lower the barriers that would let her be glamoured and for that she had to admit something to herself… she didn't trust Bill. She didn't know if he was being forced to lie to her now. She did, as things stood, trust Eric – trusted the man who was risking his revenge for his slaughtered family on her, who had sent her help to guard her as she tracked down the man she loved when she knew he wanted her for himself. Eric had even been honest enough to admit that Bill's loss would be to his advantage. She trusted the Eric who had come to guard her even though she had refused him entry into her home – because in part, she didn't trust herself alone with him.

Eric's voice suddenly filled her head even though she now couldn't see him.

"Sookie, you're in Jackson, Mississippi. You searching for Bill."

"He's in danger, Eric. I know he is."

"You've come to save him. I sent a bodyguard to help you. A werewolf."

"Alcide's a decent person. I appreciate his help. Thank you."

"You're welcome, Sookie, but you're tired. You've been searching all day. You went back to your room to rest."

"I am tired. I'm so tired. Why are you here, Eric?"

"I'm not here, Sookie. You're dreaming. You're imagining me. You were grateful I sent Alcide with you, you wanted to let me know how things were going, if any of the clues you'd found meant anything to me, but you were too tired to call. You're just dreaming."

"Oh." Her dazed expression reflected a disappointment that brought a smile to the vampire's lips. He wanted to stroke her hair, to brush her parted lips with his thumb but he didn't want to break the spell she had allowed him to put her under. She was fully in his influence, he realized, had done what she promised, had trusted him with a secret that she had not shared with Compton. He would honor the vow he had made to her, that she would remember nothing of this night. After all, she had done it in part to allow him to continue his revenge for his slaughtered kin. Nothing in the promises he'd made, however, forbade him from allowing her to remember this later, at least he owed himself that out of this night.

"Sookie, this dream will end soon. I'll be gone from inside your head…. But you've had a long night. A great deal has happened. A few things you don't remember clearly. Sometime in the future, when the time is right, you'll remember all of what happened tonight and I'll help you… and I'll be real. Do you understand?"

"Mmm-hmmm. Just now I wanna' go back to sleep."

"Then do so. Remember to call me when you awaken. Let me know how the search is going."

"Call Eric."

"That's right. Goodnight, Sookie. You're going to rest well and feel wonderful when you awaken."

… And with that she was gone, her head fallen to the side, her body limp. Eric watched her for a moment and then hovered up so that his steps wouldn't disturb her, retrieving the bloodstained pillowcase that would have lead to questions. Slipping over her body through the air, he closed the window behind him as he left, the smile on his face still in place as he walked into the door of Fangtasia. Pam looked up, her eyebrows arching.

"You didn't, did you? I thought she was still hung up on Compton, off hunting for him?"

"No, I didn't and she is… but I have what I wanted, irrefutable proof that she trusts me and questions him."

"And what are you going to do with it?"

Northman spun a chair around and straddled it, facing her with the vague smile that had inspired her question still on his lips. "That's the easy part, my dear Pamela: absolutely nothing. In time, that will take care of itself."