So I'm sure some of you probably read my earlier story "A Change in the Weather," which was basically going to be a bunch of nonlinear Eric/Sookie smut shots. Well, after rereading and reconfiguring some things, I've decided that I hate that idea and have now been able to string together a plot (a weak plot, mind you) that will allow me to include lots of E/S smut based on the weather whilst telling an actual story . . . in the same fic. . . . Hoorah!

I completely scrapped "A Change in the Weather" and have just started from scratch. This story has a few of the same elements, but I promise you, it's much sexier and actually sets some stuff up for later on. For all you fans of Bill, my apologies to the awfulness of his character here, but I needed some kind of clingy, overbearing parallel to go with the whole hot/heavy weather thing, and Bill took the fall.

Enjoy!

Though the sun had finally disappeared beneath the horizon after yet another scorching day in northern Louisiana, the night was offering little relief. Low-hanging clouds had trapped the heat within the darkness like a wool blanket, smothering everything on the ground below. Even the crickets were too hot to chirp.

Sookie sighed and shut off the evening news where the big story was the heat wave that had no end in sight. The temperature had soared to the high nineties for the better part of a week, and according to the weatherman, it was going to stay there indefinitely along with humidity thick enough to see. She sat back on the couch and swiped at the sheen of sweat covering her face with her equally sweaty palms, but it was hopeless. The unbearable heat combined with certain lustful dreams she'd been having since Dallas ensured that no amount of air conditioning in the world could help her.

Her hair was piled on top of her head to keep it off her neck, and she was wearing a shirt three sizes too big because anything tighter than that would be soaked through in minutes. All day long, Sookie had only moved to shift her position on the couch. She couldn't remember a day so unproductive, when the only thing she managed to accomplish was waiting for Bill to wake up and add to her discomfort with his questions and his suspicion; even though it had been Eric who had tricked her, he still acted as if she was at fault. He could never just let something go.

Sure enough, as soon as the darkness had spread across the front yard, he showed up, sweeping through the kitchen like it wasn't sweltering outside. Sookie's eyes flicked up and down over his appearance as he stood in the doorway. His skin was as white and smooth as ever, and he was wearing a collared shirt buttoned all the way to the throat and tucked into a pair of black jeans. She cringed inwardly at the thought of being constricted like that in this weather.

"Good evening, Sookie," he greeted taking a seat next to her on the couch.

She acknowledged him with a nod, then turned her face back to the fan, really not in the mood to entertain him.

"How was your day?"

"Hot."

He waited a few seconds to see whether she would elaborate. When it was obvious she wasn't going to, he said, "Yes. It has been quite muggy lately." Again, no response, so he continued, "Perhaps I might cool you off . . ."

He spoke with a suggestive smirk and picked up her red sweaty hand in his cool white one, but instead of offering relief, the contact only made her blood boil. After a few minutes, she pulled her hand away and stared blankly at the television, which now was airing a rerun of the Simpsons.

"Sookie, is everything alright?" Bill asked after she pulled away. "Have I done something to upset you?"

She paused for a few seconds, thinking of the least offensive answer she could give. "I'm just in the mood to be alone," she turned to face him.

His face darkened briefly as his eyebrows pulled together. "Why?"

"I need some space."

Bill held his silence for a few minutes, and it was all she could do to not roll her eyes at his blatant refusal even to acknowledge her request. Typical.

"What have I done?" He spoke slower than usual, choosing his words carefully.

"Nothing," Sookie sighed, then said, "I don't want to talk about it now."

"Don't want to talk about what?" he pushed. "Sookie, please tell me."

"Seriously, it's nothing. I just need space."

"So I don't get a say in this?"

"Bill, what are you talking about?" she turned to glare at him again. "It's hot, I'm exhausted and cranky, and I'm not in the mood to be around anyone right now. That's all."

"No, that is not all," there was a sharpening edge to his voice. "What aren't you telling me?"

"Nothing, Bill!"

"Is it Eric? Has he tricked you into doing something else?" She didn't miss the slight sneer in his tone.

"Just get out," she said softly, finally reaching her breaking point.

"What? Sookie, no!" Bill got up from the couch and got on his knees in front of her, trying to pick up her hands in his own and failing when she pulled them away and crossed them against her body. "I love you."

"If you love me, then you'll leave," she replied simply, refusing to look at him. Her voice was as flat and cold as a fresh pane of glass. "Now go, or I'll actually rescind your invitation."

Bill didn't even try to hide the anger in his face. "Don't threaten me."

"Oh, get off it, Bill." She dismissed him with a wave of her hand and got up from the couch to get herself a refill of lemonade. Without a word, he followed—ever the shadow. Pulling the ice cube tray from the freezer, she dumped the last two frozen chunks into her glass and, out of habit, filled it up again in the sink before putting it back inside the manufactured air. She lingered a few extra seconds in the coldness wafting out of the appliance before shutting it and closed her eyes. When she finally turned around, Bill was leaning against the counter with his arms crossed over his chest and his mouth pulled down into a sulk.

"What are you still doing here?" she took a sip of her drink and basked in its momentary coolness.

Bill ignored her question. "Why won't you talk to me?"

"I'm not doing this any more." She brushed past him, returning to the couch. The outside of her glass was already beginning to bubble with condensation.

"Is it because of Eric?" he pressed. "Has he said something to you?"

"That's it." Sookie set her glass on a coaster, spun on her toes, and marched up to Bill, making sure to stop just out of arm's reach. "I rescind your invitation."

"Sookie!"

"I told you Bill," she said, following after him as he was pulled out her front door. His expression was a cross between fury and hurt. "You've been smothering me, and I need some space. Apparently, this is the only way I can get it. I'll call you when I'm ready."

The magic propelled him onto her front porch, where he stood and glared inside. "Promise me you won't see Eric."

Sookie didn't even bother to hide her eye roll this time. "You're pathetic." Then she slammed the door in his face.

A little twinge of pleasure shot through her spine at the thought of finally having a peaceful night to herself, despite the heat. She still had a fan, she had her fresh glass of lemonade, she had late-night reruns, and she had plenty of junk food waiting for her in the pantry. Best of all, no one was around to make her feel guilty for dreams and lust she had no control over.

Pleased with the new turn of events, Sookie returned to the living room. sprawled out on the couch directly in front of the fan, and watched as her t-shirt billowed and swelled around her sweaty torso, cooling her off in its own right. Her eyes were closed as she soaked in the sounds of a cheesy laugh track and corny jokes and sipped at the cold bitterness in the glass. The Simpsons had ended and had given way to some old sitcom that had been in syndication longer than the show was on the air.

It wasn't long before her mind began to drift back into thoughts of how much everything had changed since Dallas. Bill was different—colder and more distant, despite his constant lurking. Sookie knew it had everything to do with Lorena and her sudden appearance back in his life. Deep down, she knew that the bitch wasn't finished. Sookie had seen it a thousand times working at Merlotte's: a woman scorned--in public, no less--would always do whatever it took to redeem herself, which usually only caused her more shame and humiliation. She doubted that Lorena was any different. And that scared her. But every time Sookie brought her up to Bill, he refused to say anything other than "It's nothing," and would change the subject. Mostly to how angry he was that Eric would take advantage of her the way he had.

She had always played along and pretended to be just as upset, but truthfully, she was no longer as angry as she probably should have been. Stupid Vampire blood.

After a few minutes of peaceful emptiness reverberating in her head, a sputtering noise and a faltering in the fan's light wind brought her back into the heat. She opened her eyes just in time to see the rotating blades begin to slow before dying completely.

"Son of a bitch."

Sitting up, she rubbed her face before reaching for another sip of lemonade, which she immediately spat back into the glass. Though she had just refilled it, ice and all, the drink was warm, and bitter, and tasted thick. The ice had long since melted, and the resulting liquid felt like corn syrup coating her throat. Blech. How long had she been spaced out?

She looked around and noticed that it was much darker outside than when she had kicked Bill out and that the old sitcoms had given way to yet another late-night comedic drone, sharing his observations on American society from behind a big, fake desk.

Outside, the light sound of knocking on her back door distracted her temporarily from the raging inferno already beginning to build inside the house, and it was only seconds after the fan had died! Without pausing to consider any other possibilities, Sookie assumed Tara had stopped by after her shift, or maybe it was Jason looking to mooch some food and remembered that she had locked that door before sitting down to be lazy.

"The key's under the flower pot, just come in!" she called out from her spot on the couch. It was far too hot to be the perfect southern hostess Gran had trained her to be. She made a mental note to be extra hospitable the next time someone stopped by.

A few seconds later, she heard the key turning in the lock and the door swinging open but couldn't pick up any footsteps.

"I wonder . . ." a voice called from the kitchen. The tone and the accent of said voice caused Sookie's stomach to invert inside her, accompanied by a slight wave of nausea. It couldn't be . . . "Is it customary for you to invite people into your home before you know who it is?"

Oh, hell no!

Eric casually stepped into the doorway, wearing a black tank top and track pants and looking as suave and lean and sexy as ever. She gulped visibly as the temperature crept up another five degrees. Not good. Very, very not good.

Through her horror, she still managed to note Eric's infinitely more appropriate attire than Bill's had been with his black tank top and loose track pants. The expanse of his skin glowed against the dark clothes, and she was struck by just how out-of-place he looked next to Gran's old-fashioned country prints, old wood, and antique furniture.

"What are you doing here?"

"I had some business to discuss with Bill and wanted to see you."

"You shouldn't be here." Sookie sat back on the couch and tried to ignore the heat flushing her features. Something was nagging inside her, forecasting a bad ending to this visit.

Eric raised an eyebrow and, instead of responding, joined her on the couch. He didn't say anything, but she felt his gaze sweep over her body, and it was clear by the intensity in his eyes that he liked what he saw—over-sized t-shirt and all.

"Why, Sookie," his voice was low enough so that she had to lean forward to hear what he was saying. "You look even more delectable than usual. I didn't think that was possible."

Bill's suspicions flashed in her head like a neon sign, warning her that she was in dangerous territory of doing something she wouldn't be able to take back when the sun came up. But even with his stupid come-ons, Eric's presence wasn't half as annoying as Bill's had been, and now that the fan was broken, she needed a distraction. Possibly a lame excuse, but she was too hot and too miserable to come up with any other justification for not immediately rescinding his invitation.

"Yeah, well, keep looking 'cause that's all you're going to get."

He laughed softly, and she felt a drop of sweat slide all the way from the top of her forehead down to the very tip of her nose. She moved to wipe it away, but Eric quickly snatched her arm and reached out with his free hand to catch the salty drop on the tip of his index finger before it fell.

She didn't say anything when he slowly brought the finger to his lips and gingerly sucked her sweat off his skin, savoring the flavor of her. His eyes never left hers as blood began pounding through her veins like a jackhammer, raising her temperature another couple degrees. At this rate, the only way this could end was badly.

"You shouldn't be here," she said again, the words catching in her throat. "Bill wouldn't like it."

"Tell me, Sookie," Eric leaned forward, placing the ends of his elbows on his knees. "Do you really care what Bill thinks is appropriate?"

"What are you talking about? Of course I do." Even to her, the words sounded empty and void.

"After his freakish display tonight, I can't say that I blame you for rescinding his invitation."

The only sound was the locusts buzzing in the woods around her house as she fumbled with what he was implying. It only took a few seconds to put everything together, but when she did, the angry fire raged to life within her.

"You were spying on me?" She sat bolt upright on the couch and fixed him with a stare that would have sent most people ducking for cover.

Eric simply shrugged. "I had business with Bill, but then I heard your argument and didn't want to interrupt," he smiled as he spoke. "It was not my intention to catch you alone, but I can't say that I mind . . ."

Sookie slumped back down on the couch—too uncomfortable to hold onto her anger any longer; after a few seconds, the only sign of her disapproval was in the glower she managed to give him. "Whatever."

They settled into another silence, taught with unacknowledged sexual tension. Sookie on one end of the couch, Eric facing her on the other, his eyes roaming over her form, which was still shrouded in unflattering clothing. Her skin began to tingle beneath the fire of his stare, igniting a heady warmth deep in her gut. The sensation swept up her arm to her shoulder and across her chest before it doubled in strength and finally spread over her entire body. She began breathing heavier and actually had to struggle to not say "to hell with it," and jump the Nordic masterpiece smirking at the other end of the couch.

Unable to take the silence or the tension any more, Sookie spoke. "So what did you have to talk to Bill about anyway?"

Eric lost his smirk, and a strange expression flickered across his face, but it was gone before Sookie could identify it. "Nothing you would enjoy hearing."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Precisely what I said—that you don't want to know."

"You know that only makes me want to know more."

He smiled and laughed once, softly. "I'm sure it does."

She continued to push him. "If you don't tell me now, you know I'll just have Bill tell me when I see him tomorrow."

"I would recommend distancing yourself from Compton for the next few days." Eric said quickly, his face settling into a serious expression and his voice grave.

Sookie's eyes quickly traced his form up and down, and an eyebrow raised of its own volition. "Of course you would."

Eric leaned forward so that their faces were only a few inches apart. "Sookie, I'm not joking around. Stay away from Bill for awhile."

"Why?" she pressed, already having a feeling of what lay behind Eric's ominous warning. "Does it have to do with Lorena? Is she back?"

Eric looked at her. "You shouldn't ask questions you don't want the answers to."

"Well you can't just show up at my house after not speaking to me for weeks and tell me to stay away from my boyfriend without some kind of explanation."

His left hand reached forward and gently held her chin between his thumb and index finger, sending a jolt all the way down to her tailbone, while his eyes held her gaze steady.

"Just trust me."

She got lost within his stare for a moment, disappearing inside the cool sea-green waves splashing inside his irises. He didn't blink as she toyed with her response.

"Fine," she said after a few more seconds had gone by. "But only because it's so hot, and I'm too tired to argue any more."

She watched as the expression in his eyes went from serious to playful, with more than a tinge of lust, almost instantly.

"Why, Sookie," he purred. "You should have just said so."

Eric vanished from the room before returning a moment later to stand directly behind her on the couch. She shrieked when he pressed an ice cube to the back of her neck and tried to leap away from the frigid pressure on her skin, but his arm had wrapped around to hold her in place with a firm hand against her chest.

"What do you think you're doing?" Sookie shrieked and fought his hold, squirming uselessly against what felt like an iron bar strapped across her chest.

"Cooling you off." His grin was evident in his tone.

"You shouldn't . . ." she trailed off as the ice melted against her sweltering flesh and ran down her back, beneath her shirt, in icy little rivulets. Each muscle the ice came in contact with seemed to melt away beneath its coldness. It took less than a minute for the ice cube to dissolve completely into her skin and for Eric to gently slip his hand beneath the collar of her shirt to spread its juices to the farthest tips of her shoulders.

He leaned down so that his head was right next to her ear. "I shouldn't what, Sookie?"

She gulped. "You shouldn't try to cool me off that way," her voice, along with her will power, was nothing more than a weak whisper of the right thing to do.

"Then how would you like me to cool you off?"

"I—"

"Like this?" he interrupted, placing his lips just behind her right earlobe and sucked gently. She tasted sweet, like honeysuckle. He licked his lips

"Like this?" he said again and moved to her neck, sucking her stampeding jugular vein but not breaking the skin.

Sookie, all the while, sat frozen in place, unable to move and unwilling to ask him to stop. She whimpered softly as his cool tongue caressed her neck. Without realizing it, her hand had come up and unwittingly wound itself in his yellow hair, holding him to her neck as she leaned back to give him better access.

Slowly he moved his tongue around to her throat and dipped it in the hollow skin between her two collarbones. Sookie's mouth fell open while her breathing grew shallower.

Eric saw what he was doing to her and smiled inwardly, knowing that he had finally won.

Sookie's mind was racing. She should be telling him to stop. She should be pushing him away. She should least be putting up a fight for Bill's sake.

Instead, she moaned and pulled his mouth down to hers.

Immediately, his body was flush against her as they laid together on the couch. Without missing a beat, his deft fingers gently pulled the elastic band out of her hair and slowly began to sift through the curly tangles while gently cradling her face.

Having Eric pressed against her this way was like being encompassed by a living ice sculpture. He was so massive and so deliciously cold and managed to conform to every last one of her curves. Even through his clothes she could feel the chill of his skin, begging for her to touch it, so she slid her hands beneath his tank top and raked her nails down the chiseled features of his chest, all while his lips warred with hers for dominance. His skin felt delightful under her palms, and his tongue was delectable inside her mouth. When her hands began to explore his body, he growled and wrapped his arms beneath her, pulling her tighter against him.

And then he pulled away, his eyes glowing as they peered down at her, ignoring her automatic whimper of protest.

"Do you yield?" he asked, already sensing her response through the weak flutters in the bond.

"Just shut up and kiss me, Eric."

He immediately complied, while his right hand began to venture beneath her t-shirt and palm her left breast, enchanted by her frantic heartbeat. She moaned and arched into him, her arms coming up to wrap around his neck.

His mouth was heaven on hers—so much cooler and more refreshing than that forgotten glass of lemonade could have ever hoped to be. Each movement from his lips or lick from his tongue sent a new series of shivers racing through her body. She wriggled beneath him as all the little hairs on her arms stood at attention. He growled once again and pulled away to rip the shirt over her head before slamming his mouth back onto hers.

Now that one layer of clothing was out of the way, all she wanted was to feel the entirety of his icy form against her, free of anything that could get in the way. Her fingers clawed at his tank top almost as if she wanted to pull it apart. He made no move to help her and instead concentrated on staking his claim along her jaw line and down to her shoulder. Eventually she got the shirt bunched up to his shoulders before he finally relented and maneuvered so that it slid down his arm to the floor.

When he brought himself back to her again, he continued placing wet, open-mouthed kisses along strategic places on her neck and chest. Each place his mouth touched burned with an icy fire—so much so that she found herself wishing for a blanket. She cried out and fisted his hair when he latched onto her nipple and eradicated all semblance of rational thought. Slowly, his fangs descended, grazing her skin as they did so while he bit down gently on the sensitive, puckered mound.

"Oh God, Eric, more! I need more," Sookie's voice was deep and guttural, sounding more animal than human.

"Patience," Eric said quickly, his own voice taught with restraint. "I've waited too long for this, and I will enjoy you."

Sookie moaned her annoyance, arched her hips into his already swollen length, and gasped as a bolt of heat slammed into her body—a stark contrast to the cold ministrations of Eric's mouth.

His cock throbbed once from the brief pressure, and his head involuntarily collapsed against her shoulder. A groan whispered in her ear as he copied her movement, grinding against her and allowing the friction to heat her center while he cooled everywhere else.

Almost delirious from the pleasure, Sookie's hand left his shoulder and traveled lightly down his chest and stomach to beneath the waistband of his pants to grasp him. He was heavy and solid and thick in her hand. But mostly, he felt cool. Gloriously cool. When she began to stroke, a warmth appeared that quickly started to grow, and she found she was hungrier for that heat than she was for his coldness. Her hand picked up its pace.

Eric moaned loudly and palmed her breast as he enjoyed the sensations ripping through his body, dragging his fangs across the supple skin of her shoulder. After a few seconds of bliss, he reluctantly removed her hand and brought it back to his shoulder, determined to make this experience last as long as possible. "Not yet."

Before Sookie could protest, there was a sudden, swift tug at her hips, and she found her shorts and underwear pulled to the very tips of her toes with Eric grinning triumphantly over her. Unphased, she kicked the last of her clothes off her foot and let them fall to the ground with the others. Finally free, her legs came around his waist while he leaned down, his lips inches from hers and his eyes ablaze with their mutual lust. She was pinned against the couch cushions by his massive form, completely helpless and utterly at his mercy. She was absolute putty in his hands, and God, did it feel good.

Without thinking, she tilted her head and brought her lips back to his, nipping softly as she did so. Instantly, his mouth opened to hers, and his tongue swept into her warmth. Sookie couldn't hold back a moan as her body began shivering against him. Cold and hot were at war, and her body was the battleground.

"Please, Eric," she pleaded. "I can't wait anymore."

Elated to hear her beg, he finally relinquished the last of his clothing with a blur of movement before rearranging himself on top of her. Her legs opened for him automatically, and he had to fight to hold onto every last shred of self-control to not plow into her then and there.

He was positioned at her entrance and could feel her delicious sweetness dripping down his length. Heat was radiating from her in waves, inviting him in. Lost to his lust, he slowly pushed forward and watched as Sookie's eyes rolled back into her head. Her fingernails dug into the hard muscles of his arms as he slowly and relentlessly entered her, filling her to the brim and then some. The heat grew exponentially the deeper he pressed, and he trembled slightly from the effort to keep himself from pounding her deep and fast and hard.

Each inch he crept into her seemed to unlock an entirely new wave of sensations. Sookie was out of her mind with pleasure the moment she felt his cock against her skin the first time, but now she was a babbling mess. Her body was scorching, and—though warmer—he was still so much cooler than her. The contrast in temperature was practically causing steam to rise off her body. She could almost hear the hiss as his coolness reached new depths to soothe her sweltering lust.

"Oh, Eric," she half-moaned, half-screamed when he finally bottomed out. She ground her hips against him, desperate for some kind of friction because Eric had stopped moving. In every dream she'd had of him, he had fucked her senseless, slamming into her with unimaginable force and with perfect precision. That was what she wanted—what she needed right now. But here he was, actually inside her, and he was frozen. "Please," she whispered. "Move."

Almost imperceptibly, he pulled out, drawing another deep moan from Sookie. When Eric had withdrawn so that only the head of his cock was left inside her, he pressed back—inch by inch, just as before. Impossibly slow so that all she felt was a growing and ebbing pressure deep in her loins, stretching her past her limits and beyond—that was how he claimed her.

Sookie was out of control with need below him and tried to slam her hips up to meet his, craving the sensations of his slick movements against her tight walls, but he easily held her still with one hand spread across her belly. She became like an animal, growling her frustration as her vision clouded over. But he would not give into her pleading.

Slowly, her body began to climb; she could feel it rising to new heights and something inside her whispered that when the final crash came, it was going to obliterate everything. The longer Eric's sexual torture went on, the hotter Sookie's center became, to the point where it was almost unbearable to have him so deep inside her when he was still so much cooler.

"Eric . . ."

He said nothing, but continued his methodic, slow rhythm until her teeth began to chatter.

She was so hot and so cold all at once—her body pushed to two different extremes simultaneously—that when she finally came, it was like a bomb went off within her. Someone had dumped a bucket of ice water over head and ignited a blow torch between her legs. The heat raced through her body, shooting out of her fingers and toes, while stars speckled in front of her eyes, making it seem as if it were snowing in Gran's living room. Her fingernails dug deep enough into Eric's skin to draw blood as she screamed out his name. All the while, he continued his deliberate glide in and out of her heat.

When it was all over, Sookie lay limp on the couch, trying to catch her breath. Chills were racing through her body every time Eric moved, and goosebumps had spread across her flesh.

"Feel better?" Eric asked after a few minutes when Sookie finally had returned to her senses.

She nodded once then immediately found herself lifted off the couch and placed on his lap, her back pressed against his chest.

"Good," he whispered, his lips rubbing against her ear lobe.

He then pressed his now throbbing manhood back into her warmth and wrapped his arms around her middle while he proceeded to piston in and out of her like a machine. Her legs were on either side of his knees as she leaned back into him and allowed all the heat he had just washed away to sweep back into her again, like waves on a beach.

The rational thoughts she had managed to collect were eviscerated the moment Eric began pounding into her from this entirely new angle. Each time he thrust inside, he rubbed against a tight cluster of nerves buried deep inside her, quickly pushing her toward another mind-blowing climax.

"Don't stop," she said, her voice husky. "Please don't stop."

Instead of stopping, Eric doubled his speed, and Sookie lost all muscle coordination. She was a limp rag doll buried beneath a tidal wave of sensation, and Eric had to hold up her body so he could continue. It was only a few seconds later before a second orgasm hit her like a truck, causing her to black out for a moment. Eric followed quickly behind and buried his fangs into her neck; her blood was steaming and sweet in his mouth, and he felt it all the way to his toes.

They collapsed on the couch together, their bodies entwined as he continued to lap at the blood still dripping down her neck before sealing the wound. They were both still so delirious from the climax that it almost seemed like their bodies were melting together, becoming one.

When she finally stopped panting and had come back into some kind of rationality--enough to wrap her mind about what she had just done--she couldn't help but giggle a little bit. The giggle quickly grew into outright hysterical laughter when she thought of how right Bill had been that she should stay away from Eric. The situation was anything but funny, yet she laughed anyway. Guilt over her betrayal would come eventually, but right now, it was more than a little amusing.

"What's so funny?" Eric asked, the corners of his mouth pulling upward slightly as his fingers stroked the skin around her naval.

"I guess Bill had a point when he said he wanted me to stay away from you," she said between the last few lingering snorts of laughter.

Eric paused, his expression completely unreadable, then asked, "Do you regret it?"

Sookie's eyes met his, and she didn't hesitate. "Not yet."

Up next, we have thunderstorms. . . .