Chapter One: Know Your Enemy

"Hello," I said, approaching the counter at Merlotte's as if I'd been coming here my entire life. I sat in front of the bartender and smiled. I hadn't even been back in Bon Temps in ages, I was like… fifteen last time I was here – shit, that had to be about… seven years ago? Maybe eight. I wasn't sure; I always sucked at math.

The bartender looked at me expectantly, seeming a little surprised, "Anything I can get you?"

"Oh," I said, looking up as if I wasn't paying attention, smiling again, "I'm looking for a Lafayette Reynolds? I was told I could find him here." I said matter-of-factly, my face becoming more serious. People didn't usually take me seriously though, I mean, I seemed like I had no idea what I was doing. Even if that was true most of the time, I was still an awesome problem solver. I know how to get out of things. For example, I knew how to get out of the look with bartender was currently giving me.

"We share a common friend," I said, "He needs me to give him a message. I would just call him," I said, setting my elbow on the bar and leaning my head on my hand, "But we've never actually met before."

"Who are you?" he asked, a little confused, "I don't believe I've ever seen you around here," he walked back to the edge of the bar yelling, "Lafayette, you've got company!"

"Adelyn Brown. Very nice to make your acquaintance." I held out my hand.

"Sam Merlotte," he replied, shaking my hand quickly then pouring another drink for a blonde waitress who had magically appeared behind me, then disappeared just as quickly.

"So, you own this place," I said, looking around, "Impressive." I sighed, and leaned back in my barstool. I was antsy. Then again, I'm always antsy on full-moon nights; that's the downside of shifting. I learned how to handle it, but bouncing only goes so far.

"Lafayette should be out any second," he said, handing a couple beers to another woman who appeared behind me.

"Sweet," I said, looking up at him. I suddenly felt this weird sense of déjà vu. "How long have you been living 'round here?" I asked.

"Oh, man… A long time," he said, "Haven't really been counting."

"You look familiar," I muttered, "Which is weird, because I suck at remembering people."

"Who wants me?" a man appeared from the kitchen.

Sam nodded to me, "This one."

I smiled and turned, "Eric sent me."

His eyes grew so large that I was afraid for a second that they would just pop out of his head. He looked terrified. I was a bit surprised, I never thought I was all that scary, and Eric's nowhere to be found. "Shit," he walked over and grabbed my arm, leading me through the kitchen, "We'll be back, Sam."

Sam nodded and continued working. I was seriously starting to get annoyed – where the hell had I seen him before? I obviously remember him-

"What the fuck do you want?"

"Don't get mad at me," I said, hands up, "I'm in just as much shit as you are. I didn't get shot – Eric really likes telling that story by the way," I laughed a little, "We're both working for the man, and I'm here to supply. Eric can't keep sending Pam out to do his dirty work – she's causing too many problems."

"So, why the fuck are you here?" He was leaning forward in a very panicky way. I had to try to calm him down and get him to trust me without acting like some psycho shrink. Another day at the office.

"Jesus! I'm not here to cause trouble. I don't even want to be here. I should be states away from this town. Eric sent me to give you this," I held up a vial of blood, "And to 'offer my assistance' - whatever the hell that means."

"You're supposed to help me sell?"

"I'm your connection to Eric. I'm moving in. Right now I live in a motel room, but eventually I'll get more money and I'll work something out." I rolled my eyes and waved off the statement, "I know that talking to Eric is LOW on your to-do list, so I told him that I'd be your contact." I shrugged.

He grabbed he vial, and looked down at me – shit, I was short. He had to be a full head taller than I was. "Why are you offering yourself up to help me – Why the hell are you on such good terms with him after being locked up in his basement?"

He was seriously tall; he was supposed to believe I was protection?

"I was never locked up. I went through a different screening process," I frowned, "It's not something I can explain in the middle of a bar. But I'll tell you. It's no problem. You'd think one would be happier that I'm on their side. Eric's an asshole, everyone knows that much. You can at least thank me."

"Thank you," he said, rolling his eyes, "You understand why someone would be a little frantic when it comes to that cold-ass bastard."

I grinned, "I understand. Here," I handed him a slip of paper, "My cell. Anytime you need to talk, give me a ring. And, no," I shook my head, "I have not had any of his blood. But I know the effects."

He blinked, "Shit, girl. It feels like you've done this before."

"Nope," I smiled, "Just prepared." I turned to leave.

"Now, wait. I'm just supposed to accept that a crazy ass vampire is going to just allow some girl to come in and be his middleman?"

"Yep," I said, "Trust me, I know what I'm doing."

"Forgive me for not really believing that," he said with a sigh, "You're supposed to keep that away from me. Please," he muttered, walking back to the kitchen.

"Give it a chance," I called after him, walking back through the kitchen and into the bar, where a beer was sitting in front of my stool.

I ran a hand through my hair. Jesus, I hated doing Eric's dirty work. I knew though, it'd only be a little while longer. Then I'd be free. I walked over to the bar, "What's this?"

"Your drink," he said.

I blinked and looked up, "I didn't-"

He nodded, "I know. I'm being nice," he said, "Just drink it."

I laughed a little, "Thank you." I took a seat at the bar again and pulled my cell out of my pocket, sitting it on the counter – Eric should call any time now.

"So," he said, "How am I supposed to know you?" he leaned forward a bit, a little confused.

I shrugged, "I dunno. I guess I- wait. I'm remembering something."

"Really?" he asked, obviously amused.

"Yeah. Really," I said, taking a sip of the beer, "Last time I was in here, I was like 15. I was picking up Frank from," I looked around, "Here. Over there. I remember," I pointed to a booth nearest the door.

This was freaking me out. I took a breath and continued, "You were there," I pointed to where he was, "Trying to get him to go. I was ready to drive home."

"You said you were fifteen."

"Yeah," I grinned, "Do you remember? Picture some freaky little skinny girl, about as tall as I am now, crazy ass blonde hair – think that chick over there," I nodded towards the blonde waitress, then played with the end of my hair, "It's gotten darker as I've grown up. I like it this color. Light brown. Nice," I was getting off topic. "Um… I lived with Frank and his wife – shit, I don't even remember her name, for a while. Foster care? Any of this ringing a bell?"

"Nope," he said, grabbing a rag and cleaning out a glass.

"Oh come on," I said, rolling my eyes, "I lived here for like a year and a half."

"I don't remember you – and I think I'd remember some kid in my bar."

I sat there for a moment, "Addie? You used to call me that, I think."

He stopped, smiling a little and leaning down, "Addie?" he laughed a little, "Shit, it's… you're so big."

"Thanks," I said darkly, taking another sip of my beer, "You must be great with the ladies, Mr. Merlotte."

He rested his arms on the bar and looked at me, "That's not what I meant," he laughed a little, "You're older. You… you don't look like the same girl."

"I'm not," I smiled, "I'm so much cooler. And about… seven years older. People change."

He nodded, "Yep."

I nodded as well, "This place seems pretty much the same though. Not much for redecorating, I take it."

"I like it this way," he said, shrugging. He was watching me, I could tell. I was staring at my phone, spinning it around, kind of, vaguely concentrating on the bar.

"I can see why," it was nice, homey, in a way. Comfortable.

We were quiet for a second. This was more… awkward than it really should be. I guessed it was partially because of the fact that I was actually drinking, something that I never used to do at Merlotte's (I didn't always break the law) I looked up at him, after he hadn't said anything for a few minutes, "What?"

"I," he took a breath, "I can't believe it's you."

"You've said that," I chuckled a little, "I look good right?"

He laughed, "More confident too, I see," he rolled his eyes.

"I was just shy," I shrugged, "I got over it. Besides, I had the most gigantic crush on you when you moved here. You must have known that."

"Nope," he said, smiling to himself, "Not a clue."

"Well then," I said, "You're oblivious."

"And you've got great taste," he said.

"Two more, please, Sam," the blonde waitress appeared next to me again, and my phone vibrated on the counter.

I wasn't paying attention, and Sam pointed, "Addie."

I blinked, "Man, no one's called me that in a while," I looked up at him, "Thanks," my phone kept vibrating, Eric's name flashing up on it, "Excuse me."

"Whaaat?" I sighed into the phone, "I've already talked to him. He's terrified of you."

"Where are you?" he asked.

"The bar. Merlotte's." It was insane. Everything was coming back. The times I'd come down to the bar to pick up a drunken Frank. I'd sit at the bar and wait for him to come to his senses.

I totally forgot about Sam. I giggled a little bit. I thought he was so… I didn't even know the word. I was such a weird child.

Thankfully, that whole painfully awkward stage of my life was over.

"Still?"

"Yep! I forgot how much I liked small towns. Oh, wait a sec," I set the phone down next to me and said, suddenly very excited, "Hey, Merlotte," Sam turned back to face me and smiled, "Which one of these people is Sookie Stackhouse?"

"Um, she is," he said, pointing at the blonde waitress next to me, who was looking at me like I was insane, and then I saw a flash of recognition

I ignored her for the time being, "And for the record," I looked at Sam, "You used to be much cuter."

He rolled his eyes, and I turned to Sookie, "Sorry. I'm not creepy." Eric on the other hand, so was.

"Um, hey," I picked the phone back up, "Just a little FYI, I think she knows everything now. Well, I mean it probably wasn't all that hard to put together, you're so… "

"Disgusting," Sookie supplied, turning away with her two beers. I laughed, Eric did not.

"That was unnecessary."

"I know. You can't blame me for being curious. I mean, she doesn't know why I'm here. So, everything's good."

He didn't respond, "Did you give Lafayette the package?"

"Yes. And I must say, once again, that I think this whole thing is disgusting. Swapping blood? Ew. I'm so fucking glad I'm not a vampire," I muttered that last part.

"I've got to go. Get yourself settled in."

"Yes sir."

"Goodbye, Adelyn."

I looked up at Sam, who was looking back down at me, his eyebrows raised in an incredibly cocky manner, "Talk to you later, Eric," I muttered quietly, shutting my phone, and taking another drink. I was lying, just a tad, I mean, he looked just about the same. His hair was a bit longer, but, really, he looked the same. "What?"

"Who were you talking to?" he asked.

I, for some reason, wasn't expecting that question, "None of your business."

"My bar," he said, "My business."

He had me there. I looked at him for a moment before answering, "My boss."

"You work for Eric Northman?" He laughed, "Oh shit, Addie. How the hell did you end up with that?"

"How the fuck did you know that?" I practically yelled.

He laughed some more, shaking his head and resting his arms on the bar next to me, leaning over to whisper in my ear, "You talk really loud."

"Oh shut up," I said, pushing him aside and taking another drink of my beer, "Really. How'd you know?"

"I talked with him a few months ago. Has a thing for Sookie. I heard the words 'Eric and 'vampire.'"

I nodded, "That's very clever, Merlotte."

"Shit," he said, "How could you work for a vampire? Isn't that a little…"

"Creepy? Hell yes. I hate Eric. Can't stand him. But you would not believe the money one gets working days for a vampire."

"Really?" he asked.

"No. The money sucks, too. I owe the man."

"If you ask me-"

"I didn't," I said seriously, "I'd better go, actually." I had the feeling that the more I drank the more attractive Sam started to appear. That little smirk thing he had going on was going to drive me insane.

"Already?" he asked, "I mean, we have… what? Seven years of catching up to do?"

"Yeah. That sounds about right. But tonight, I need rest. I'll be back."

He nodded, "Okay." He shrugged.

I needed to go. I didn't know I was so easily affected by alcohol. That little scruff on his chin, his hair, his voice, hell, I even thought his shirt was incredibly-

Ugh. I needed to go.

I swirled out of my stool and nodded to Sam, who smiled back at me, which made me smile back – because I had obviously flipped on my internal 'act-like-a-moron-switch.' On my way out the door I looked over at Sookie, who was watching me like I was infected with some deadly virus she was hell-bent on not catching, and thought, as loud as I could, 'Hey, Sookie. Just so you know, I'm pulling for this Bill guy, and I haven't even met him yet. Oh, but I expect that will be happening soon, Eric mentioned he was dropping in. But, it's cool, I've got your back.'

I doubted she trusted me, but I still felt better.

"Oh, shit," I said, spinning around and making my way to the back, "Lafayette?"

"Yes, ma'am?" he said expectantly.

"When do you get off? I've gotta come back tomorrow."

"Midnight. Now, shoo. I've got work to do."

I nodded and left. Tomorrow was really gonna suck.

Pun intended.

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