AN: It's been many months since I wrote the last chapter of Sorry Ladies, Northman's Off the Market (well the real last chapter, not counting the outtakes in Northman's Still Off the Market), but there's been a part of the story that's been nagging at me to be written. It has nothing to do with Eric, or Sookie, or even the lovable NOM Pam. It's the story of Amelia and the man I created to balance her craziness. I grew quite attached to good old Stav when I was writing NOM, and his story was begging to be told.

And, being the visual person that I am, I of course had to cast the role of Stav and Amelia. You can see my choices in the banner here: http : /img38 . imageshack . us/img38/8889/stavbanner1 . jpg (also linked in my profile)

I realize it's a bit indulgent to write the story of a character I dreamed up, but it's 100% written, and only six chapters, a prologue and an epilogue. I do hope that you enjoy it! Now, onto the show…

If We Ever Meet Again

~Prologue~

The small hydrofoil boat pushed away, carrying a mix of travelers: businessmen off to close a new deal; tourists headed to their next destination; children filled with glee at the adventure of it all; and one lonely figure, standing and waving with a solemn look on her face.

I stood on the beach, watching the girl who had consumed my every moment for the last month disappear on the horizon. It felt like a part of me was dying, being torn away slowly until I would be something less than whole.

Our relationship had blazed so hot, filled with an intensity I had never known in my seventeen years. We didn't know each other well, though we knew each other intimately. I couldn't tell you what her favorite book was, or how she'd met her best friend, but I knew the heretofore unchartered map of her body, the way she responded when my fingers grazed across the delicate skin at her hips.

I had always been level headed, never swept away by anything. My giagia had always looked at me skeptically, wondering how I could possibly be related and still so unemotional. I'd learned to hold back, to calculate my every move. I did not believe in reckless passion, or so I had thought. But my world had been turned upside down by the pixie of a girl that had just disappeared from my life.

We'd agreed that her departure and return to America would be the end of things for now; that we would have to hand ourselves over to the fates and see what would happen.

"If we're meant to be," she'd said, gently cupping my face as I kissed her goodbye. "It will happen. We will know; if we ever meet again."