A/N: I don't own any of these characters, Charlaine Harris does. I just like to play in her sandbox sometimes. This started out as a one chapter, one shot fic, but I got roped into adding more - hence the rather lame title! Malanna, thanks again for keeping me on the path with this one.

I finished my shift, waved bye to Sam, and headed to my car. I was looking forward to a nice, hot shower, putting on my pink pajamas, and curling up on the couch with a movie and some hot chocolate.

So, of course, my phone rang.

With a curse that I never would have uttered two years ago, I flipped it open. "Hello," I barked at the person on the other end.

"Um, is this Ms. Stackhouse?" Asked a woman on the other end.

"Yes," and I took a deep breath. It wasn't her fault I was tired and cranky. In fact, I wasn't exactly sure why I was tired and cranky, but I was starting to suspect that somewhere in Shreveport, Eric was having a bad evening. Damn him.

"Hi Ms. Stackhouse, this is Lizbet . . . from Fangtasia." And she stopped talking. I waited a moment for her to resume.

"And?"

"Oh, yes, um, Eric asked me to tell you to meet him 482 Elmwood Street at nine o'clock." The girl sounded stoned. Great. Bad enough I've got to feel his bad moods, but now he's got fangbangers calling me and giving me orders.

"If Eric thinks I'm just going to drop everything," hey, he didn't know I had no plans tonight, "and jump when he snaps his fingers, he's got . . ." I took another deep breath. "Lizbet, is Eric there?"

"Huh? No. He just told me to tell you to be there and said that it was business." Click.

And I thought I'd been rude.

Damn Eric.

I toyed with the idea of ignoring his "request" but it would only mean Eric would show up here later and, frankly, I wasn't sure I was in the mood to deal with Eric in the more intimate setting of my home. We still hadn't had our "talk" and I suddenly felt uncomfortable at the thought of just sitting in front of the fireplace with him and talking. He now remembered the last time we sat in front of that fireplace and, just thinking about it sent shivers through me.

Damn Eric.

I stomped up the steps to my bedroom, peeled off my work clothes and went into the bathroom. I turned the shower on, nice and hot. I stepped in and felt the hot water start to work through some of the tension in my shoulders. I tried to figure out what business Eric needed me for. Then I began to wonder if it really was business or, if this was one of his little plans to get me alone. However, Lizbet said it was business and, business is usually Eric's priority. I shrugged, grabbed the soap and began to lather. As I soaped my shoulders I thought of the time Eric did that for me. I closed my eyes and thought about that night.

As the water cascaded down my back, my hands began to work their way down, over my stomach, across my hips, over my legs. In my mind's eye I saw his reaction to my touch. My hand slid down, between my legs. "Eric."

Eric. I looked at the clock in my bathroom. Eight p.m. Shit. I had to be in Shreveport by nine.

Damn Eric.

I stared into my closet. I had no idea what to wear. After a few minutes I decided to wear one of the skirts I had bought for Dallas. Business. Right. I paired the skirt with a silk camisole, and lightweight jacket. I ran a comb through my hair, checked my lipstick, grabbed my purse and left the house. I realized, as I headed to my car that I actually felt eager. I tried to tell myself that I could use the money, but who was I kidding? I was looking forward to seeing him.

Damn Eric.

The entire way to Shreveport I had to remind myself to stay detached. Cool. Like Eric. It was business. I was probably going to have to remind him of our deal - no killing the humans, even if they did something bad.

I arrived at the house at eight fort-five and it was a good thing I was early as there was no parking in front. I drove over to the corner, turned right and parked on Highland Avenue. As I neared the house, I began to feel a slight sense of unease. When I was about three houses away, a strong arm clamped around my middle, and a hand came down over my mouth stifling my scream.

"Shhh, Sookie, it's me," said Eric. In an instant, he had me up against the side of one of the houses.

"Eric!" I exclaimed. His hand came up over my mouth again. He leaned over to my ear and whispered, "it's a trap." I stopped struggling immediately. He moved his hand from my mouth and, in the dark, I saw his blue eyes looking intently at my face. There was worry there. "Can you hear anything?" He asked.

I let down my barriers and reached out into the night. I sensed them immediately. Four men, their brains buzzing in my mind and, two dark, empty spaces. Vampires.

"There are six of them. Two vampires." I reached out a bit more and gasped.

"What?" asked Eric.

"Fellowship, they're from the Fellowship of the Sun!" I whispered fiercely. I heard Eric say something in a language I did not understand and then, he pressed up against me, flattening us as much as possible against the side of the house. I could hear the men on the street.

"Do you see her?"

"Are you sure that was her car?"

"Did you see which way it went?"

"Maybe someone tipped her off."

The voices trailed away as they moved on down the street. My heart was pounding, racing and, in the middle of all of this insanity, I became intensely aware of Eric's body pressed against mine. I could feel the denim of his jeans brush against my hand and, the cool touch of his arms, the muscles beautifully displayed by his tank top. I could smell him. I tried to think about our predicament, but my body had other ideas. I shifted slightly and heard him growl, low and in his chest. My breathing sped up.

As if sensing my thoughts, Eric bent down and began to kiss me. Roughly. Intensely. At first I tried to pull away, but his hands came up on either side of my face and held me. No one kisses like Eric. It sent a jolt through my body. I tried to keep my mind on our predicament, but with Eric's mouth busy devouring mine, I'm not sure I could even remember my own name. Suddenly, the last months of frustration, loneliness and heartache collided with adrenalin and hormones, and reason got tossed out on its behind. I kissed him back, my hands snaking up, behind his head and pulling him to me. Hungry. My fingers laced into his hair and pulled. Eric groaned.

His lips sought my ear, his tongue flicking slightly...

*********NOTE**********

SORRY FOLKS, A VERY SAD, SMALL MINDED PERSON WITH WHAT APPEARS TO BE A VERY EMPTY AND BORING LIFE, HAS TAKEN IT UPON THEMSELVES TO GO AFTER ALL STORIES THEY BELIEVE ARE INAPPROPRIATE FOR THIS SITE AND REPORT, SO THE STORIES WILL BE TAKEN DOWN.

SHREVEPORT WILL REMAIN HERE ON FFN. I WILL BE EDITING THE CHAPTERS, SO AS NOT TO OFFEND THE THOUGHT POLICE, AND BECAUSE I DO NOT WISH FOR ALL THE LOVELY WORDS OF ENCOURAGEMENT THAT HAVE BEEN OFFERED HERE OVER THE YEARS TO BE DELETED, BECAUSE THE OWNERS OF THIS SITE REMOVE EVERYTHING WHOLESALE, WITHOUT CHECKING ANYTHING OR WARNING TO THE AUTHORS. AFTER THE CUT THERE WILL BE ELLIPSES ... WHICH WILL INDICATE THAT THE REST OF THE CHAPTER HAS BEEN [EDITED] OUT, BECAUSE I AM NOT GOING TO SECOND GUESS WHAT WILL OFFEND THESE NINNIES ON ANY GIVEN DAY.

HOWEVER, ALL MY STORIES WILL REMAIN IN THEIR FULL, UNCENSORED FORMS ON ARCHIVE OF OUR OWN. SEE MY PROFILE FOR MORE INFORMATION.

...pulled down my skirt.

"I smell blood," I heard a woman's voice. Vampire. What were they doing with the Fellowship? Then I thought of Godfrey. In a second Eric had me in his arms, around the back of the house and over the fence. He crouched soundlessly, looked at me and cocked his head questioningly. I reached out but sensed nothing. I shook my head. We proceeded like that for a few more blocks, making sure we weren't followed. Then he headed towards Fangtasia.

Eric was unusually quiet. Not for the first time, I wished I could hear his thoughts. I swayed in his arms, lay my head against his shoulder and fell asleep. I awoke when we arrived at Fangtasia. Eric wanted to carry me in, but I insisted he set me down. It was bad enough dealing with Pam's ribbing, but she'd have enough ammunition tonight without my being carried in like a damsel in distress. I walked past her on my way to the bathroom and after one whiff, she began to grin.

"Oh, this is going to be fun," she smirked and started to walk away. "By the way," Pam turned to look at me, "what were you doing at about eight o'clock? Because whatever it was, you had him in a right state." And she walked away laughing.

I shook my head and walked into the bathroom. I emerged a few minutes later, having straightened myself up as best I could. Let's face it though, I still looked like I'd just been fucked. I made my way to Eric's office and I found him there with Pam and another vampire I had never met before.

"Sookie, this is Pierre, our new bartender," Eric made the introductions. Another new bartender? What happened to Felicia? I'm not sure I wanted to know. "It was Pierre that alerted me to your predicament this evening. He realized something was wrong with Lizbet. She had been glamoured, crudely, and instructed to pass on a message that was supposedly from me."

Now it made sense. "It was the Fellowship. They had vampires with them tonight," I explained to Pam and Pierre.

"Vampires?" Pierre asked doubtfully.

"Fools who wish to meet the sun," answered Eric. "The more important question is how they discovered you Sookie?"

"It has to be Jackson," I answered. "Steve Newlin was at Josephine's that night. The night I was staked. He ran out and I just assumed the Weres managed to track him, but he must have gotten away. I used my real name at Josephine's."

"I must let the king know immediately." He gave Pam and Pierre some instructions while I lay back on the couch. I must have fallen asleep because some time later, I awoke and found Eric sitting next to me, staring at my face. He moved a strand of hair from my face. He continued to stare at me for another moment, his eyes serious without a trace of his trademark playfulness. He leaned down and kissed me and I could feel my body begin to respond. This time, however, he stopped.

"I have to get you home."

"Just take me to my car. I can drive home."

"No! It isn't safe. I'll have someone bring your car to you tomorrow." His tone brooked no argument and, frankly, I was so tired it didn't take much to convince me not to do the drive back to Bon Temps.

The drive home was silent. Eric was clearly deep in thought and, as we pulled into my driveway Eric looked at me. "We have to talk Sookie."

Oh hell. "Eric, not tonight please. I'm tired. I'm sore," and at the look on his face I added reassuringly, "deliciously sore, and my brain is on overload right now. I just can't have this conversation tonight."

"Sookie, you cannot avoid this indefinitely."

"I know, and I promise we'll talk. Tomorrow if you like. Just let me rest tonight. Please."

We were on my porch now and I fumbled the door open and turned back to him.

"Alright. Tomorrow then," but he did not walk away. He took me in arms, slowly this time and kissed me. It was exquisite, and tender, and it wiped away every trace of tiredness I had. My hands reached around to press against his back, pulling him closer to me. I knew this time it would be slow. It would be tender. It would be magnificent.

"I thought you were tired," he teased.

"Shut up," I whispered as I pulled him into the house. As I reached to close the door I said, "say it again."

"My lover," he whispered hoarsely.

And then, I shut the door.