Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from the books or True Blood. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

This is a continuation of Becoming Involved - .net/s/6252888/1/Becoming_Involved

24 chapters, 125k+ words of Godric not meeting the sun in Dallas, hiding his identity (Eric named him Heimdall, after the Norse god that guards the Bifrost Bridge and will be the last to die with Loki), returning to Shreveport with Eric, and interacting with the True Blood universe for the rest of Season 2 and all of Season 3. All while staying close to the series storyline, until the Season 3 finale, when Sookie finally admits to herself that her dream of Bill and Sookie 4ever is not going to happen.

This takes up where Season 3 ended as Season 4, or Season of the Witch. There is a casting call open for Hallow Stonebrook. This story is started in September 2010, and I'll be relying on Charlaine Harris' Dead to the World for plot elements which Alan Ball may or may not follow for True Blood. I am going to leave this in the True Blood genre because CH's Godric is radically different than AB's Godric.

Author's Note: A short chapter so I can get the FF address to add to the end chapter of Becoming Involved to conclude that story with this link.

Chapter 1

Sookie pulled her hand from Heimdall's as they walked down the front stairs of Bill's house, and hissed, "Are you happy?"

"No."

Why did Heimdall have to be so difficult? Sookie wanted to scream, cry, and hit someone, and Bill was not available. She was stuck with a vampire over 2,000 years old, who drove her crazy because she barely understood him.

Sookie was so over vampires, but since Heimdall had mentioned werewolves to the Queen, she wasn't going to be stupid. Or at least as stupid as she had been over Bill. Having Heimdall walk her home had to be better than Eric seeing her across the cemetery. As far as she can tell, the one person she had cheated on Bill with, now hated her, or as he said, only disliked her. Then he goes and gets her food, a duplicate of everything she had eaten during her stay at Eric's house, and then gets in the face of her fairy friend, Claudette, claiming Sookie's his. How was she supposed to cope with such a moody asshole?

"Is it safe to cross the cemetery?"

"I don't smell them around now," Heimdall answered, "and Eric is close enough to summon quickly. I called him earlier because there were so many."

"At least you admit there's something you're afraid of," Sookie said, but then regretted her words. She had dreamed of Godric being tortured by a fairy.

"Yes," he replied.

"Why did you stop me from going with Claudette?"

"Fairies live a long time like vampires. Both of us have difficulty measuring time in human terms. Their world is not like here, and you may have been gone months or years before they returned you, if they returned you at all. Without you letting anyone know you were going, it would be a mystery and cause unnecessary heartache."

"For you?"

There was not an immediate answer, but eventually he replied, "My comment was meant about your brother, Sam and other mortals. You have a connection with a few vampires. To us, I believe it would feel like you were suddenly gone. I'm not sure if it would feel like you died or not. I have not had someone to whom I've given my blood disappear to the fairy world, or another separate existence."

"If I had gone, what would your guess be about what happened to me?"

"It would have depended on what I felt. I always feel when someone I've shared my blood with dies, even if they are distant by location and years. If it felt similar, I would have suspected you were suddenly killed. If not, I would have asked Eric to compare our experiences. He shares his blood more readily than I."

They continued walking, with him matching Sookie's speed in her bare feet across the lush grass of the cemetery. She left her house earlier without putting on any shoes.

She accepted his answer. So far, Heimdall's lies were obvious when he was protecting his identity, but other than that, he seemed to tell her the truth, or not answer. He never claimed to love her like Bill. Godric also told her she smelled different than a human, and until earlier today, had not tasted her blood.

Then there was Eric. Sookie could not think of Heimdall without attaching Eric. It was not just the dreams, but the way he kissed her in reality. His passion infused kiss was not Bill's, and not the sweet, slow way his maker savored her.

She was smarter now. After Bill, no more vampires. Especially any that she had had blood from. She couldn't even say Bill 'played' her. What he did was a whole new type of low.

The only reason she was not giving Heimdall a slap across the face was the one time they did do something sexual, she had not had his blood yet. The first time was all Bill's fault for draining her almost to death. Why didn't she dump him for good then? What the hell was wrong with her? Alcide called her a door mat. Maybe she was. Twenty-six years of craving romance, and Sookie let the first man whom she couldn't read with a bit of southern charm into her life and panties. She was such an idiot.

"Are you angry at me right now?" Heimdall asked, as they reached her poorly maintained driveway.

"I'm angry at a lot of things. You're one of them, but not the worst."

He did not respond to that, and kept walking beside her.

The moment she dreaded came up, when he climbed her front porch stairs with her. No vampire was welcome in her home. New house rule. The only exception would be if there was a werewolf in her house.

Sookie wanted to explain this rule to Heimdall, but he was studying the mud smeared on the front of her house, rather than paying attention to her. "Is this from the maenad still?"

"Yeah, I've been busy."

"I am not good at cleaning, but I can pay for someone," he mentioned, while looking at the paint now. "Paint it white again?"

"I don't need your help."

He looked puzzled as he glanced at her, then clarified, "You don't want this fixed?"

"I'll deal with it. I'm good at that."

"Do you need assistance with anything else at this time?"

"What?"

"I said you were mine earlier. I am now obligated to take care of things for you."

"Uh, welcome to the 21st century. You don't have to do shit."

"Even with the Great Revelation, vampires still have traditions," he replied.

"I don't give a fuck what your traditions are. Being lying, traitorous undead shits has ruined my life."

Sookie went inside alone, shutting and locking the front door. Tara had her own key. Oh crap … she looked out the curtain, and Heimdall had gotten in that silly crouch of his, pretending he was a gargoyle, on her front porch.

Opening the door, she snarled, "Get off my porch. Tara's coming back any minute now, and she don't like vampires."

He stood, nodded, jumped over the stairs and walked off to the side into the darkness.

Sookie looked through the cabinets and found a pack of chocolate chips so mixed up a batch of cookies, and baked them up to wait for Tara. Merlotte's was closing, so she should be back soon. She must have talked to Sam or someone else, after she saw Lafayette.

After eating one of the cookies she planned to save, and thirty minutes later, Sookie called Tara's cell phone and got her voice mail. She left a message, "Hey Tara, I'm waiting up for you. Give me a call if you're not coming home tonight. Bye."

Once she hung up, Sookie thought about how stupid that message sounded. After Franklin, Tara needed time. Maybe she went home with Lafayette. She wasn't about to go … oh, her best friend was self-destructive. Sookie figured she was too with a large sigh, wondering if Tara was coming home or going to call.

Another thirty minutes passed, and nothing, except the kitchen was spotless and the cookies arranged on a large plate on the table.

Sookie was hurt. She had told Tara she needed her, and her best friend went off to see her cousin and totally forgot about her. She hoped. Jason killed Franklin so Tara was probably off being Tara, and she'd find out tomorrow what she did.

Already hurting, she figured that she couldn't do any worse, and went to the back door, opened it and called, "Heimdall."

"Yes?" he answered, coming into the aura of the back porch light.

"Come inside."

He unexpectedly stopped at the threshold.

"What?"

Heimdall covered his nose with his hand, complaining, "Food."

"What?" Sookie repeated. Bill said he didn't mind, and was only annoyed by the smell of garlic. She had only been baking cookies.

"I am intolerant to the strong smell of human food," he replied, taking a step backwards. "I will visit another time." Heimdall turned.

"Wait." Sookie could not believe this. She believed it because Eric had mentioned it, but this is the first time she saw a vampire intimidated by something so simple. A cookie was not like a cross or holy water … in the movies. "You don't have to stay in the kitchen."

"You do not need to trouble yourself, Miss Stackhouse. I suspect Eric will call me soon."

"I forgot Eric told me that you are sensitive to smells. Come through to the living room, and I'll open a window."

When he did not move, she said, "I can't believe I found a vampire not demanding to be let in my house."

"I do not spend much time among humans. There's too much about them that's different."

"Aw, come on. You used to be human once."

"No, I don't think so."

There was a whistling sound followed by a wah, wah, wah. Sookie knew it was some famous movie song, but couldn't remember what.

Heimdall looked downwards and took out his phone from his front pocket. "It did not do that before," he said, before hitting a button and saying, "Yes?"

"Hmm … okay," he said, then took the phone away from his ear and looked at it. It turned itself off again. He had forgotten to ask Eric why it did that. The phones in his Dallas nest needed a button pressed on them to turn off, and everyone got annoyed when he did not press that button. It would have helped him if they stopped getting new telephones.

"I am returning to Shreveport. Good night, Miss Stackhouse."

"Heimdall ..."

"Yes?"

"Are you going to lurk around my house every night?"

"I need to follow Eric's instructions."

"Why?"

Heimdall tilted his head, then said, "You have forgotten? I am pretending to be Eric's."

"How long's that gonna go on?"

"Till we tire of it."

"What if Eric doesn't tire of bossing you around?"

"Are you speculating, or trying to draw me into some argument?"

"Some of both, I suspect."

"I am not worried. I have known Eric a long time."