Hopefully this chapter will offer some explanations...enjoy! And thank you all for dropping me notes and leaving reviews! It re-inspired me!

The moment John Quinn had walked into The Hair of the Dog that night he'd been pissed off. If he was really honest about it, he'd been pissed at Sookie Stackhouse since the moment she had told him that she really didn't need him to come to her grandmother's funeral. He understood why, of course, and it wasn't just that their images didn't exactly go together. There was her brother and his congressional run to think about and Sookie didn't really want people looking very closely at her life right now. He got it, but still…it stung. He wouldn't have minded Sookie leaning on him a little. She never really seemed inclined.

If he were really, really honest with himself, he'd admit that he'd been pissed off about his circumstances in life for almost as long as he could remember and angry at the world was kind of his default mood. But he tried not to spend much time thinking about it. Circumstances were what they were and there was no reason to cry for the moon when you knew you weren't going to get it. Only really late at night when he was lying in bed looking at Sookie after she'd fallen asleep and wondering why she didn't seem interested in moving things forward in their relationship, despite his knowing all her deepest darkest secrets and not caring about them.

But when he walked in to the bar, his bar. Well, he didn't own it, but it was his just the same. And saw her leaning forward talking to some guy, who clearly didn't belong there either, he moved from feeling dissatisfied with how his relationship was progressing to really fucking irritated.

It wasn't just that she was talking to a guy. She talked to guys all the time. Quinn was not insecure or especially jealous. He was good-looking. He was a leader. Men wanted to be him, women wanted to fuck him, blah, blah, blah. You got the idea, he was the man around here. But she had this smile on her face as she talked to this guy. It was soft. Quinn had seen the smile before, been on the receiving end of it, but he'd never seen it from Sookie – that small, soft smile. What the fuck?

He glanced toward the guy that Sookie was looking at. He expected to feel more irritated, but instead he just felt shocked. The guy was good looking, no doubt, tall and muscular, but lean, not bulky like Quinn himself, but he was dressed like a god damn accountant or maybe a teacher...yeah, that was it he was dressed like a teacher. And not like a public school teacher, but like some snotty prep school like Sookie had gone to. Was this the kind of guy Sookie liked?

She didn't even notice when he walked in which was why he'd called out. They had both looked up, Sookie and the guy, with identical surprised looks on their face. Well, now that he looked at Sookie more closely maybe her look seemed a little guilty. Apparently, this guy was just one more secret she'd been planning on hiding. The guy looked taken aback as he took in Quinn's height, girth and riding leathers. Yeah, drink it in asshole in your tweed jacket, Quinn thought. She's my girl.

He stalked to the bar fully aware of how quiet it had gotten. Sookie was pouring a beer and had it down in front of him almost before he had crossed the space. His girl could tend bar, he'd say that for her. Actually, he'd say lots of things for her, he just didn't think they were things she'd be interested in hearing. Quinn had no illusions.

It took him awhile to get there. Guys walked over to greet him. People called out question about his "hunt." Quinn had no idea who this guy was, but he knew who he was – someone you didn't want to fuck with.

In another world, a normal world, Sookie Stackhouse would have no interest in John Quinn. He'd grown up in a part of Manchester that she had probably never even been to beyond her grandmother's charity work. He worked in construction and rode a motorcycle. Girls who went to boarding school and headed to Ivy League colleges, Stackhouse girls, didn't date guys like John Quinn because they never met them. In a different world, Sookie Stackhouse would never have crossed paths with John Quinn.

But he had met her because this was not a normal world and Sookie Stackhouse was not your normal prep school girl. Or maybe she was what the fuck did he know about prep school girls, but either way their situation was not normal because John Quinn was a Were-Tiger who hunted vampires along with the wolf pack up here and Sookie Stackhouse could hear vampire thoughts and had spent the last several years helping them. And whoever this clown that she was talking to was, Quinn doubted that he even knew vampires existed.

He looked at Sookie carefully over his mug of beer. She looked different than the first time he'd ever seen her. Harder. And yet somehow even more frightened. And the first time he'd seen her, she looked pretty damn frightened.

Well, not the very first time. He'd seen her earlier that night too. She was out with friends. She'd been drinking. Not here at Hair of the Dog. At one of the new bars on the other side of Willow Street – the trendy side. He'd gone in to talk to one of the bartenders. He'd noticed her. The whole bar probably had. Her and her equally lovely friends.

They had a big hunt planned for the next night. There was a vampire nest hanging around a seedy movie theater picking off kids as they left the late night shows. The nest hadn't been easy to find, but Alcide Hevereaux's pack had an especially talented tracker and they were making their move the next night.

As a tiger Quinn didn't run in a pack. He was the independent type. But he was well-known in the Were community and Alcide's people had been happy to work with him. He wasn't always to clear on how Alcide felt. He'd gone by the bar that night hoping to do the politic thing. He didn't want Alcide feeling like he was taking over the pack. He wasn't interested.

Alcide owned that trendy place where Sookie had been that night, the Hair of the Dog and another place further up north. More of a tourist place. They did well, but Quinn couldn't stand the trendy vibe of that particular bar. He'd pushed his way through the crowd as he headed toward the bar. Alcide saw him coming and extended his hand. Quinn shook it and leaned against the bar. "Busy tonight."

Alcide shrugged. "It's always packed like this right before Christmas."

A peel of laughter broke out from across the room and Alcide and Quinn turned in the direction of the shrieking girls. "Who's the blonde?"

Alcide smiled at him and raised an eyebrow. "That's Sookie."

The way he said it, Quinn got the feeling that Alcide had tried and struck out. Quinn grinned. "Pretty."

Alcide shook his head. "She lives down in Boston. She's just up here for the holidays."

Quinn glanced at her again and then forgot her. He didn't have any time for a woman really and certainly not one that lived an hour away. He and Alcide had other things to discuss. And then he smelled it.

Sookie had been saying goodbye to one of her friends, pretty girl short brown bob. Tara, he'd found out later. And Quinn had smelled something, something dead. He'd done a quick sweep of the bar, but hadn't been able to find the deader. And then he caught its scent by the door. He'd followed it outside only to see Sookie Stackhouse hurrying toward an empty street calling for her friend in a voice that sounded nothing short of panicked.

Suddenly, she'd broken into a run screaming, "Tara, Tara, run!" Her friend, pretty girl, but apparently not that bright, had stopped to argue with Sookie about what she was carrying on about. About thirty seconds later one of the slimiest looking fuckers Quinn had ever seen was on her and Sookie was shrieking for help and searching the ground for some sort of weapon.

Sookie didn't know it, but she'd almost gotten Tara killed that night. He'd been about to transform when Sookie had grabbed a fallen branch from the ground and charged at the monster attacking her friend. Quinn had been so shocked by this reaction, he hadn't been able to take his eyes off her. In fact, he'd forgotten that he could actually save the day here. At least for a few seconds. It had caused Tara to spend the night in the hospital. But she certainly fared better than the thing that had been trying to eat her. Quinn had knocked Sookie out of the way as he ran toward them. It had been a short fight. He hadn't been much of a vampire, whoever he was.

Later in the waiting room of the hospital, he'd looked over at Sookie weeping quietly in a plastic chair. She was…he was enchanted. "How'd you know?"

She sniffled loudly and wiped the back of her hand across her face and turned to stare at him. She stared at him with wide, frightened eyes. "What do you mean?"

Quinn smiled at her and tried to appear non-threatening. He knew there was something about her. She was different and she knew something. "How did you know your friend was in danger?"

She stared at him and shook her head. She rose fluidly and began to walk away. But she was human and she wasn't going to get away from him easily. He grabbed her arm and watched her turn and stare at the large hand enveloping her upper arm. Maybe she was scared when he first grabbed her, but by the time she raised her eyes to meet his, she was pissed, not a trace of fear. "Excuse me."

"No way sister. You tried to kill a vamp tonight. You knew he was coming after your friend and I want to know how. It was like you could…I don't know…but it was like Buffy or some shit."

She looked him right in the eye. "Get the fuck away from me."

He dropped her arm and smiled. "I don't scare easily babe. And I want us to be friends."

She smiled at him sourly. "Yeah, well, I'm really more of a dog person."

Quinn was pretty certain he was in love. He watched her walk toward the hospital doors, but she didn't step through them. Instead she stood there staring out into the darkness. Her shoulders seemed to slump a little and then a little more. She turned and walk back toward him. "Look, I know I was just really rude, but would you…would you mind walking me to my car? It's really dark out there."

Quinn nodded and rose. He followed her out into the hospital parking lot. Her hands shook as she held her keys. Her eyes darted around to all of the darkest corners. Finally, he reached out and took the keys. "Why don't you just let me drive you home? You've had a rough night."

Her only response was to let go of the keys, allowing them to drop into his hand. She walked silently over to the passenger side and climbed in. Quinn opened the door to her Jeep and climbed inside. "Where to?"

"You know Stackford?"

Quinn nodded. He'd worked on a development there recently.

"You know the white house on the hill near the church?"

"Yup," he put the car in the reverse and began to back up. "You live near the Stackhouse place?"

She looked out the window away from him. "I live at the Stackhouse place. I'm Sookie Stackhouse."

Quinn was rarely impressed or intimidated by anyone, but he was now, at least for a moment. Mitchell Stackhouse was an admirable man. And Adele was practically considered a state treasure. Then he shook it off. Nobody knew better than he did that you couldn't help what you were born to.

Sookie largely ignored Quinn that first night. She was grateful that he was there, had been there earlier, but that's about all she could say. She couldn't get beyond the voice in her head. She would never forget what the vampire had sounded like. It was different from the first voice. The night at her grandparents so many years ago.

The man that had come to see her grandfather had been cultured, educated, he'd had an agenda. In many ways, he was a lot like all the men, and women, that came to see her grandfather except she could hear what he was thinking.

Tonight was something else. That thing, vampire she supposed, had wanted Tara's blood. It had smelled her in the bar. Liked her. Followed her. It had been vicious, terrifying. Its thoughts were the scariest thing Sookie had ever heard. She never wanted to hear anything like that again.

"You were real brave tonight."

She started and glanced over at Quinn. She'd forgotten about him. She looked down at herself and realized that she was huddled against the door as if trying to protect herself. She didn't respond. She didn't feel very brave. She felt sick.

"You picked up that stick and charged right in there…that's probably the bravest thing I ever saw." Quinn sounded impressed. It made Sookie feel a little ill.

Sookie frowned. She wished he'd stop talking about it. She wished she could block it out. Why the hell had she come home this weekend anyway? The stress of med school had been getting to her. Now look where she was. What could she ever do as a doctor? What was the point when there were things like that out there?

"You saved her," she croaked. She hadn't realized how dry her mouth was.

Quinn shrugged. "It's different for me. I've fought them before. And you know plus…"

"You turn into an enormous tiger," Sookie provided.

"Makes it a little easier to fight vamps than just being a little bit of nothing with a stick." He grinned at her.

Sookie narrowed her eyes. "Are you laughing at me? Because that was just about the most awful thing I ever saw. My friend almost died. And she's saved by a man who turns into a freaking tiger! And you shredded that thing…and his thoughts. God, even when he was dying…they were disgusting." She began to sob. Disgusting snot sobbing. She didn't have a tissue. But seriously, who cared. She felt like she couldn't get enough air. She was pretty sure she was about to hyperventilate. She wiped at her face with her hands.

"That's gross," Quinn commented idly. "You've got to have Kleenex in here somewhere."

"Fuck you!" Sookie half sobbed, half hiccupped. Wow, she really was a mess. She could barely get enough air to spit the words out.

Yeah, in that moment Quinn decided that he definitely liked her. Plus, the vampire mind reading thing…that was more than a little interesting. That could be extremely helpful to his cause. "Could we back up to the part about the thoughts? Because that's pretty interesting. You knew he was going after your friend?"

Sookie looked at him, nodded and then went back to staring out the window. Very interesting, Quinn told himself. Sookie Stackhouse might have been the most interesting person he had ever met.

Quinn settled in to the bar stool across from Sookie and held out his hand to Eric, who raised himself up from his slouched over position before extending his own hand to grasp the bald biker's. Eric couldn't help but posture a little. He assumed it was some sort of male gene. And in this case, it was laughable, because John Quinn was clearly a man who knew how to brawl in a barroom and the last time Eric had been in a fight, unless you counted Victor Madden which he didn't, was in tenth grade when Rob Dayton had written things about Eric's younger sister on the bathroom wall. That guy had been such a dick.

"John Quinn."

"Eric Northman."

Sookie giggled nervously, she hadn't meant to, it just seemed to escape, causing Eric to raise an amused eyebrow at her and Quinn to glare at her slightly. "Eric knew Gran in D.C."

Eric found that explanation interesting. Well, he found the fact that it appeared to be intentionally misleading interesting. He nodded solemnly confirming Sookie's descriptor of him, it was after all, true.

"You're just up for the funeral?"

Eric smiled to himself and then gave Quinn a surprised look. "No, no. I've just taken a job with the Leader."

Now, it was Quinn's turn to look confused. Sookie hurried to explain, "Eric wrote for The Post when Grandpa…that's how he knew Gran…he's a reporter, Eric that is." Sookie's voice was quiet by the end of the sentence. She would have hidden her face in her hands, but it would have given away far too much of what she was feeling.

Quinn's eyes widened when Sookie said that he was a reporter. He turned his head slowly toward Eric and staring at him as though Sookie had just pronounced him the devil. Eric stared back. It wasn't the first time someone had looked at him like he was something they'd just scraped off the bottom of their shoe, he doubted it would be the last either. He felt like it was a huge nod to his self-control that he was able to keep himself from grinning at Quinn.

His cheer faded slightly though when he heard a low rumble that seemed to be coming from Quinn. Was he growling? Seriously? It sounded like the guy was growling. Which was insane because people didn't growl, not like that. He was a writer. He'd occasionally written that someone growled something as a descriptor, but this was like a real growl. Eric was pleased that he didn't scoot his barstool back because he wanted to, badly. There was something seriously off about that guy.

Quinn stood up without looking at Eric again. "Sookie I'll talk to you later." He got about halfway to the door before turning around. "I know you're supposed to be a smart girl, but it seems to me like you're about to take a pretty stupid chance. You don't need a guy like that. My girl doesn't need to go to a reporter to settle a score."

Sookie narrowed her eyes at him. "Thanks for the advice Quinn…but its my family, my score and I'm my own girl."

Quinn gave her an appraising look and then shrugged as he turned to head out the door. Fuck her. She'd be back. She needed him.