A/N: Hi all! My writing is a bit rusty from taking so long away from it, but I really hope you enjoy this chapter! Thank you for the views and especially for the reviews! I love to know what you think about where the story is going, where it's already been, and anything that bugs you about it (it's good for improvement). Enjoy!

Four days. That was the exact amount of time needed to partially recover from waking up in a shallow grave. After that mark, Chevelle was nearly crawling out of her skin to leave her house. She'd spent her time wisely; eating dairy free frozen yogurt and rotting away in bed, but all the rest in the world wasn't enough to ease her mind. The house was distressingly quiet, but her mind made up for a small portion of it.

In the end, even disbelief hadn't been able to keep her preoccupied. The longer she spent, very much alive and in isolation, the further she settled into the hand of absolute panic, sprinkled with a generous serving of fury..

Maybe she was invincible, she didn't know. But if she was, that was more of a reason to be as reckless as possible about the entire ordeal.

By the time she was able to drag herself out of bed, it was half past five and she had four missed calls from Sookie. She'd answer. As soon as she could fathom what she would say to explain her absence. Her reflection was a horrifying sight, hardly better than the first day she'd spent home. It had been avoided, for the most part, but now, she had to tackle the tangled mess of her hair head on.

Eric had never returned. Stood her up, or died. If he'd stayed in the sun that long after she warned him, he deserved it. Had she really killed him? So easily? It would have been a shame for her business, but maybe not her longevity.

And Holly was too hesitant to give her a response when she invited her to a circle in the woods. If being under the waxing moon and calling for whatever she wanted wasn't tempting enough, Chevelle didn't know what could change her mind. The older woman chalked not doing group circles up to "some crazy shit", whatever that meant.

The front door still couldn't be locked, courtesy of Eric Northman, but due to the circumstances, Chevelle couldn't mind it.

"The fuck are you so happy about?" Pam's azure gaze cut towards Eric for the third time that night, and he pried his eyes from the measly dozen or so of customers to her. The encyclopedia in his lap had done nothing to give more information on the pearl in his pocket, and for the first time since her death, he wished the old queen Sophie was around. Only for her library and excessive knowledge on supernatural types.

There was nothing on pearls, and everything about nymphs merely scratched the surface and was never able to give true insight. They had been an overlooked commodity through history. The most he found was nature this, and nature that.

"Now now, Pamela." Calm as he was, Pam suspiciously studied him once, then shifted her weight. "Aren't you pleased to have options tonight?" He didn't care to look up at her glare. Almost added that it was delivery for a change, but knew better than to push it. Instead he flipped the pages of the book and hoped to find more. Whether she believed him was left up to mystery.

"This is nothing." Pam left his side and started back to the bar, giving her customers a once over before joining Tara, but Eric made a point not to give her any attention. She was too pampered to appreciate the sight. Business was picking back up, despite taking a dent.

The night was still young. There was a chance for more customers, sad as the sight was right now.

The no biting sign behind him seemed to bore a hole in his back. Times were changing, and the authority was still concerned with negative publicity. He couldn't imagine how publicly selling blood and girls in a club was legal, but then again, there were companies that did house calls. If all else failed, he could probably set something up in the basement, but then he'd need another room for his personal endeavors, and that didn't appeal.

The door to the club opened, and a duo of brunettes and two men entered. Humans. They wore plain jeans, one of the woman's were cut off into daisy dukes. Plaid was in no shortage, to say the least, and there had been no effort to fit the atmosphere of the club. Each of them had a broken end of wood jutting from their belts, and were armed far beyond what a night at a club would require. As a long ended glint of metal came into view, Eric took to his feet. The sound came, almost immediately; a deafening pop aimed at the ceiling, and the subsequent screams that broke into chaos.

Every Human scattered.

"This is for you."

Chevelle peered up at Holly as she set a bowl of fruit onto the table in front of her, then pulled a figure wrapped in paper and about a foot tall off her tray to set it beside the food.

"Aaand from the special menu."

"You're a life saver." Grabbing the solid form, Chevelle mirrored Holly's humble grin as she pulled the statue into her purse.

"You might wanna set it further back on your altar next time. These things are sturdy, but some'a those little parts crack real easy." The tray in Holly's hands was perched on her hip as the woman in the booth nodded and lifted her fork.

"I'm still working on the whole furniture part of my house. Like I want to decorate, but I get tired of styles so fast, and Angus is so picky."

"Trouble in paradise? You know, there was a lady in here earlier; said she was an interior decorator. I can get her card next time she comes in for you." After a quick glance at her tables, the older woman deemed it safe to join her customer at the booth and took a seat from across from her. She received a generous nod and hum as Chevelle lifted a forkful of melon into her mouth. "Did you try that oil on him? Nothing wrong with a little shove in the right direction."

"That oil made him too sappy to want sex. He sent me a box full of old poetry books and dried flowers. To Sookie's house." Holly let out a little laugh that was cut off with a hand over her mouth. They sat in a comfortable silence for a moment as Arlene passed with a full tray. Holly fished a round of purple paper from her apron and set it on the table. In exchange Chevelle handed her a solid hundred dollar bill.

"Are you sure you dont want to join us tuesday? We've got a nice clearing and normally cast tons of protection. Nothing like being under the moon, and we've never had an accident." One last try couldn't hurt. Chevelle met the thougthful hazel green eyes across from her, and Holly leaned back in her seat as though she was asking her to move a mountain on her own. When she leaned up, her lips quirked into a skeptical pout.

"You got any rules?"

This was the most positive thing Chevelle could have hoped for. There was a flutter in her chest, and she let out a breath she hadn't known she held in a small, relieved laugh.

"We normally practice skyclad." When Holly's chin dipped down and her eyebrow raised in with a suspicious smirk, another laugh forced its way through the woman opposite of her. "Nothing weird, you can wear a robe! Whatever your comfortable with."

"Oh, what the hell. I'm in. Just give me a call and let me know where. Angus gonna be there?"

"If he forgives me for taking a vacation and not speaking to him for a week."

"Use some'a that oil." Holly's hand shot over the table and squeezed Chevelle's, paired with a wink. It elicited a grin and open laugh. The blond woman left to service her other customers, after setting the tab on the table, and Chevelle made sure to leave a generous tip for her troubles.

Across the restaurant, Lafayette made eye contact with the woman, but she didn't stop or slow her pace one bit. He probably thought she was insane.

Sookie made her way through the forest at a leisurely pace. She was early enough to not have to worry about being late this time. All morning she had timed it perfectly. Everything went exactly as she planned. No vampire business, no werewolves, or shifters at her doorstep. She was able to sleep in and even make breakfast. She mused to herself that she should tell everybody she needed a break more often, but feared that it wasn't so simple in the long run.

As she started up the steps to Merlotte's, an all too familiar form came from the door. She recognized the mental German before her eyes caught full sight of the woman, but once it registered she was at her side, eyes wide and heart pounding.

"Chevy!"

Surprise rippled across the woman's face and if Sookie didn't know any better, it was as if she didn't know it was her job.

"Oh... I tried to call you."

"Where have you been? We've been playing phone tag for a week and I couldn't get a hold of you. I was worried sick!" The woman was plainly staring back. Her face was unreadable, which was weird because she always smiled and readily spoke to Sookie. She didn't know what had happened to change that, but she couldn't read her thoughts. Why would she be cold now? Sookie thought they were friends. Not close yet, but as close as could be imagined for knowing each other for such a short period of time. She knew Chevelle had called her upwards of twenty times, and she hadn't responded.

But she couldn't at the time. It wasn't her fault.

"I... Got you a coffee. It's canned but I didn't know when you were on shift." Digging into her over-sized purse, Chevelle offered the beverage, not sure of where to start or go from there. That was as far as she had gotten in meeting up again.

Sookie reached out to Chevelle and took hold of the can. It was an abrupt motion, meant to be followed up with words that could mend the relationship, but the moment she made contact images flashed through her head and she was paralyzed. A gun in her face, explosion of light. Cops. Dirt. It was fuzzy, but the feeling was undeniable. Before she could even open her eyes, a tingle shot up her arm, and light flashed in her eyes.

She jolted back.

Landed on her bottom with a dull sting, and from the look of it, the same thing had happened to Chevelle. The olive toned woman leaned up and peered at her, mouth ajar and brow furrowed. It was like a sonic boom caught their almost contact and sent a wave of energy between them. Blinded Sookie and left her ears ringing.

on the wooden porch, the can rolled towards the steps; miraculously unbroken.

Then Sookie realized her hands were still tingling. Burning, more like. She raised one hand and found it engulfed in light. Pulsing and shaking. The pain from landing was drowned out by her confusion, but without leaving time for her to question it, Chevelle was on her feet.

"I gotta go-" The woman raced down the steps to Merlotte's and Sookie pushed herself back up to follow.

"What was that?" Chevelle didn't stop. Her pace quickened as Sookie gained on her, and she glanced back only to check that the girl was in pursuit. She was. "You felt that didn't you?"

"No!" That wasn't right. "Maybe," She admitted, then, just as Sookie reached out for her again, "Don't touch me!"

The woman stumbled five steps back as she turned to face Sookie. Equally amazed and at a loss for words, they stared at one another under the wooden gazebo.

Realizing that Sookie was expecting an explanation, Chevelle took initiative.

"Look, I didn't... It wasn't intentional-" Sookie was still frowning, slack jawed, and expecting more. She took a step forward. In turn, the brunette stepped back. "That hurt, didn't it?"

"Well... I feel fine. It hurt a little but not much." Sookie glanced at her hand for confirmation. Still trembling, but no longer glowing. Tingling. There was a pause that allowed for her friend to make a similar examination of herself before concluding the same.

"Okay. I thought... I landed kinda hard, and-"

"But the landin' ain't what it was. We just exploded and you don't want to know what happened?"

"I gotta go. Try to catch my boss before he really wakes up and notices how pissed he is at me for skipping out. But there's probably a perfectly logical reason..."

"For light jumping outta your hand into mine?" There were too many questions. Sookie wanted answers right now, and Chevelle didn't even know where to begin or what had happened, herself. The only thing she was positive of was that she hadn't been selling her blood, or dancing, and that her sex life was in shambles. More than half a week of stagnation left her in a precarious position that she didn't want to stay in.

The woman quickly excused herself, and as she rushed away, Sookie decided to get to the bottom of whatever was going on whether Chevelle helped her or not.