AN: I have a few things to address for this chapter before we begin the end of the beginning (did that make sense?)

1. A little shout-out to Pilot!Eric from Lubadub's fic Terminal Attraction. That's what inspired what occurs below...

2. I have two LOVELY banners created by sapfirerose and smitten kitten for this story in my profile. Check them out, I adore them.

3. The woman at the end who cries and likes flowers, is a cameo by the lovely !!! OOOOOOH!

4. SUPPORT STACIE TONIGHT, MARCH 26 AT MIDNIGHT! (Or March 27, however you want to see it) BID ON ME AND I WILL WRITE YOU A STORY OF YOUR VERY OWN! IT'S FOR A GOOD CAUSE, MY PAPOOSES!!

5. Check out the very awesome "The Sookieverse" www (dot) thesookieverse (dot) com. It's run by lovely ladies who write and support fanfiction! GO TO THAT SITE NOW, please :)!

6. All the details on Athens in this chapter were contributed by svmaddict who helped me with any questions I had for her. She gave me so much information and I just couldn't put it all in! I'm incredibly thankful for her patience and willingness to help me with the details!

7. I just wrote a one-shot called This One's a Happy Story, check it out and leave some review love!

8. This is the last chapter and I'll be starting the sequel A.S.A.P. Look out for Baby, Let's Play House coming to you soon!

9. This chapter sucks. I hate it. I'm so so so sorry, it bitch slapped me up and down main street.

"When did we see each other face-to-face? Not until you saw into my cracks and I saw into yours. Before that, we were just looking at ideas of each other, like looking at your window shade but never seeing inside. But once the vessel cracks, the light can get in. The light can get out."
- John Green, Paper Towns

Chapter 14: Athens

I hate to say we hardly left the hotel room for the next few days in Venice. We were in a beautiful, historical city and all we could think to do was have sex. There were a couple times when I'd almost get us to the door before we were stumbling backwards to the wall, the couch, the floor...whatever was closer. To say I was addicted to sex was becoming more and more plausible. Was it just the pregnancy hormones or Eric? I was going to say it was a healthy mixture of the two considering it was always me and him who made the decision to go for another round and not some taunting inner demon, I think. Sleep, sex and food – that's what our days consisted of.

We were now flying high in the sky from Venice to Athens, which seemed to be shaping up as our last destination.

I was not a good flyer. Especially in these small planes across Europe. The stewardess' weren't very attentive and just sat gossiping outside the cockpit. Nobody seemed to care though. They just prayed for the flight to be over. I held onto Eric's hand tight, while he was completely at ease, sleeping soundly.

I couldn't handle this anymore, my teeth were chattering, my stomach was churning. We should have taken the train, but it was too big of a distance and we would have been cramped on it for almost a full twenty four hours. I didn't want to puke. I just wanted to distract myself from the headache-inducing flight.

I was surprised that Eric wasn't wide awake with the way I was squeezing his hand. I guess it was good practice for us in labour.

I needed Eric to distract me or I was going to hurl and that was the last thing I wanted to do, hunched over in the small cubicle for the rest of the flight. I nudged him. A huge bout of turbulence jolted us and I held onto Eric's arm. He straightened up, looking completely calm.

I watched his features when the plane settled slightly. "Can you talk to me? I'm not feeling good. Distract me from this awful ride."

He nodded slowly, blinking rapidly, waking himself up. "Okay. Which dessert do you prefer?"

A flare of irritation at the idiotic question, overwhelmed me. "Really?" I snapped.

"I enjoy ice cream," his response was.

I rolled my eyes, not relaxed by this conversation.

"Don't pregnant woman want sweets?"

"Shut up," I said, feeling beyond annoyed with his talking, even though I had woken him up.

He sighed heavily. "What will settle you?" Honestly, the first thing that came to mind was sex. That couldn't be done now, could it?

Could it?

I looked at him, and I saw him watch a stewardess walk by. I hoped he wasn't staring at her ass. He was! I hit him hard against the chest. He looked at me his brows furrowed.

"What?" he whispered.

"You were staring at her ass," I hissed.

"It was in my face!" he hissed back. I glared at him and he looked none too pleased with my current attitude. Alright, so we were on each other's nerves today.

Maybe it was because we hadn't had sex in over twenty four hours. We were desperate for it, but with me puking most of yesterday and us having to get up early to catch our flight, it hardly left enough time to do so. And I realized I really wanted to fuck him. I was irritated with him, I was scared of this plane ride and I was horny. I also felt fat today and needed reassurance – it did not help that he just stared at another woman.

It seemed like back by the toilets were rather deserted, everyone firm in their seats, the stewardess' giggling up at the front. I unbuckled my seat belt. He looked at me his eyebrows raised.

"I'm going to the bathroom," I said quietly. "Come to me in two minutes." He gave me an odd look but I continued anyway. God these cubicles were awful. It didn't smell that bad at least. I closed myself in, feeling restrained. I could only imagine how small this would be with Eric in here too.

I didn't wait long but when he squeezed himself into the restroom with me, I couldn't help but feel impatient. He looked at me awkwardly, his shoulders hunched up.

"What are we doing?"

"I want a distraction. I'm horny. Have sex with me," I said. I went for his pants and started to unbuckle. He didn't make a move. "Fuck me."

I heard him huff. "Oh, alright." Like it was a big inconvenience. Were we already barrelling into being an old married couple? "I can't move a lot," he informed me.

"Just lift me," I said, not looking at him. I was wearing a dress and I was guessing that on a subconscious level I was wearing it for easy access. His pants were down and he was only half-erect. I rubbed him and I knew he was watching me. I glanced up at him and saw his eyes twinkling with delight and his erection grew in my hand.

"Oh my lover," he sang, swiftly picking me up. I squished my legs around his waist and he pushed me against the sink. "Ow, this isn't roomy."

"Shh," I said.

"They don't care," he muttered gruffly, the heady shadow of lust taking over his features. I reached between us and positioned his cock at my already wet folds. We groaned as he pushed into me.

"You're too big," I muttered, judging his size in the small washroom.

"Yeah, I am," he said, pumping into me. I didn't mean his dick, but that was big too. I bit my lower lip to contain any loud noises that may escape. It felt so good to have him back inside me. I put my mouth on his neck moaning against it, making a raspberry when I needed to. I heard him laugh slightly, bending his neck as if he were ticklish. We tried to be quiet but when he'd thrust into me, he'd grunt and my leg would hit the sink painfully.

It was pretty hot though.

"Stop," I said in his ear. He did so, not sure what I meant. I heard someone get into the washroom about a foot away. I giggled. We froze for a minute before Eric turned us and sat on the sink.

"Ride me," he said, my knees pressed into the small counter, which hurt.

"Wait until their gone," I muttered, trying to shift comfortably.

He shook his head and gripped my waist urging me on. "Fuck me, please, Sookie," he groaned loud. I put a hand over his mouth trying to stop from laughing. "Now!" he said, muffled. I don't think he understood just how un-sound proof these things were. I could hear the person peeing in the parallel washroom. He bucked his hips and my tongue bled from sinking my teeth into it, avoiding making noise. I put my hands on his shoulders and complied with his impatience. He groaned loudly and I covered his mouth once again.

I had my lips against his temple as we panted through our synchronization. I may have made a squeak that had alarmed someone because a flight attendant was knocking on our door.

"Scusi," said the voice.

Eric answered in Italian, his arms around me. He thrust into me to prove the point that he was going to fuck me until we were finished and nothing was going to stop him. The knocking was more urgent and I even heard fumbling with opening the door. I saw my reflection in the mirror and the back of Eric's head. The door was jiggling.

"Eric," I murmured. He pulled his hands away from my waist and put them on my cheek forcing my eyes on him.

"Shh."

"This isn't nice anymore," I said as I found my body rising and falling without my consent. Eric's eyes fluttered at the feeling – he hadn't lost his hard-on at all. The danger and the size of him had me shaking silently as I was hit with my orgasm. For good measure, Eric came loudly. What an asshole.

I pulled myself off him, making sure I had good footing, feeling nervous about being confronted by the angry flight attendants. Eric caught my expression.

"They can't throw us off the plane," he reasoned, doing up his pants. I nodded and he exited first, blocking me from their view. His massive height and his good lucks stunned the two lady attendants speechless. "Hello, beauties," he winked at them. I pinched his ass, annoyed. He grinned over his shoulder at me and snatched my hand leading us to our seats without a word.

***

As soon as we were off the plane an hour later, I was desperate to find a washroom. Eric waited for our luggage while I dashed off. I attended to basic human needs, spending a bit more time, vainly, in front of the mirror. I mean, I hadn't exactly gained a bunch of weight over the past few days, but I definitely felt rounder today. This dress just looked like a tent on me, and my cleavage looked all wrong, and my hair...I shuddered at my appearance having a strong desire to change into something more flattering but knew it was hopeless until we got to the hotel.

I left the communal washroom and saw Eric with our luggage talking to a blond girl. She was giggling and slapping his arm. He stood rather stiff, smiling and nodding to her advances.

I remembered when Eric mentioned that we were both insanely jealous people. I never thought so before, but I knew for a fact that with Eric, I felt very territorial. I wouldn't even call it jealousy, to me that meant being envious of something that he had with this girl – since he just met her, there wasn't much going on. To me, I'd call this feeling possessiveness, which scared me. Who was I to tell Eric who to talk and who not to talk to? Exactly. I couldn't do that. I just had to stand back helplessly, while the monster caged in my ribs thrashed around with the desire to claw out that bitch's eyes.

I took in a deep, shaky breath, trying to reign in the strong urge to tell her to back the fuck off. I made my way over. Why did I have to look like such a cow today? As I advanced, with Eric's back facing me, the girl noticed my invasion and her eyes narrowed as if to say, 'This is my man, I found him first.' I gritted my teeth, sidling up next to Eric.

He put a hand on my back, playing with the end of my hair, tugging at it, giving a warm smile only for me. He could be so sweet sometimes and such an animal and so annoying and so adorable and so interesting and so attentive – my Eric was like a colour pallet with all his many traits. I loved him a lot.

The girl looked incredibly irritated that the man she had been chatting up seemed to have a girlfriend. Eric went back to the conversation but she seemed too distracted now to enjoy flirting, she grabbed her wheely bag and stalked off.

"What an odd girl," Eric commented, pulling me to his chest, he kissed my forehead. "I found our luggage, min Älskling. It smells funny."

I didn't say anything on my jealousy and from what I could tell nothing led him to believe he'd been flirting with another girl.

I still felt fat.

"Well," I found myself speaking. If I had my regular brain I would have kept my mouth shut, but I was blaming all this on the pregnancy. "Maybe when you get a ring girls will stop flocking you."

I looked up at Eric who had a truly confused expression on his features. He didn't respond though, as we made our way through the crowd.

"Sookie," he said eventually. I gazed up at him. He dropped our bags in the middle of the terminal so his hand could snake into mine and he lifted it to kiss my ring finger. "Perhaps you want a ring?"

"No," I said shakily.

"No?" he asked doubtfully, his eyebrows rose. The bastard slipped my finger into his mouth sucking it hard. He wouldn't let me pull it away and the action was doing things to my body. Finally he slid my hand out of his mouth, nobody noticing that we had stopped so he could do so. My finger was all slimy but I didn't care. I wiped it on his shirt.

"You're dirty," I said disdainfully.

"You like it," he winked, tickling me under my arms. I jumped closer to him and he held me tight laughing, kissing my hair. "I'm sorry I made you jealous."

I could deny it, but I wouldn't. "It's okay," I mumbled against his arm.

"You are delightful when you want to hurt other girls. But, I don't care for them, she wouldn't leave. I was trying to be a good fiancé and wait patiently for you to return to me," he put a finger under my chin and angled my neck so he could lean down and kissed me. My heart thrilled at our upcoming marriage.

"So are we getting married in Athens?"

His eyes widened. "Would you like that?"

"Just wondering," I said slowly, turning from him and continuing through the airport. He followed me hastily, most of our luggage in his arms.

"I can't wait till we're in our hotel room so we can fuck properly. You feel sick?" Only Eric could talk about fucking and vomiting and make it sound damn sexy. "I am horny. Let's find a cab quick or I am going to come in my pants."

I rolled my eyes. I waited patiently, while Eric shifted from foot to foot, anxiously wanting to hail a cab.

"I could just rent a car," he said to me suddenly.

"Why? We're not going to be here long," I reminded him.

He looked frustrated with my response. We were already next in line for a cab when a new one pulled up for the folks in front of us.

"Hiya," Eric said sidling up. He pulled out money. "This is for you if we can have your cab." The two people looked clueless to one another. Eric put it in the man's hand and then opened the trunk piling his stuff into it. I stood by stunned that he was being so careless, when he reached forward and yanked me toward the car, sliding into the cab, pulling me with him. He reached over me and closed the door. "I don't know Greek. They were slow," he explained.

"I already had sex with you on a plane," I said, watching Eric lean forward with the address of our hotel on a piece of paper to give to the driver.

"That was very nice. Surprising too. I like surprises, I hope you do too," he winked. He was referring to the wedding. I didn't respond, but I was highly amused with his eagerness to get to our hotel.

The checking-in took far longer than Eric would have liked. I had to deal with the concierge because my fiancé was near unapproachable, anxiously pacing. Honestly, he was like a teenage boy about to lose his virginity he was so damn excited. At least he wasn't bored with me, yet. I was going to take it as a compliment.

Eric glared at the bellboy the entire way to our room. I rolled my eyes, realizing that today, Eric was set on being very annoying. But, also, he was adorable, sexy and funny – just today, the hormones were in overdrive and even air was aggravating me, and I was normally quite fond and grateful for the element.

I said goodbye to the bellboy, probably my mood wasn't any better than Eric's. The door was closed and Eric had me in his arms walking us backward to the bed.

Hormones also worked well with my libido.

A couple hours later after we were both good and fucked, I was restless to get out into the streets, whereas Eric was passed out, snoring for an afternoon nap.

He had napped on the plane, now here he was, three o'clock, and he was out again. I wasn't going to wait for him to wake up. I left him a note and grabbed my purse, venturing out into Athens, our last stop.

I hated that I had to go out looking fat, but there was not much else I could do.

As I made my way through the lobby, I realized I was hungry, as I saw the nearly empty restaurant just to my right. I walked over to the hostess who could barely speak English. I held out a hand as the number one and she led me to a table. I sat down and gave her a strained smile.

I just wasn't in the mood for humans in general today.

I ordered my food and when it was put in front of me, the smell made my stomach turn. I was hungry, even though my extra-sensitive pregnancy senses were tingling with nausea.

I picked at it slowly, trying to work through it when I glanced up and saw a man at the bar eyeing me. If he planned on talking to me then I was just going to –

He walked over to me.

No, no, no – wasn't I just screaming 'die' with my eyes?

He was a tall man, probably around Eric's height, and was bald. Interested for only a second, I realized that his eyes were purple. Were they contacts? Was he really that self-involved? I just knocked off ten points on this guy's tolerable scale in my head.

"I thought I smelled an American," he said, smiling down at me. Without even asking, he sat in the seat opposite me. Another ten points gone.

"Oh," was all I said.

He reached across the table, his hand open for the taking. I shook it because I was taught manners. "John Quinn, I'm from Las Vegas."

I raised my eyebrows. "Interesting," I said. I didn't want to tell him my name but Gran would have smacked me with a spatula if she was here and I hadn't. "Sookie Stackhouse. Louisiana," I felt like a spy with the way I responded. A headache was fast approaching.

I should have stayed in bed with Eric.

"Cute name," he said, clicking his tongue. Leaning back in his seat, he pointedly flexed his arms to show off his muscles, which were impressive, but it was also gross. I missed my adorable, sexy European fiancé right now. "So, babe, what brings you to Athens?" He waggled his eyebrows as if that was a double entendre.

Oh dear God. I wanted to cry. I shrugged, unable to find the words to deal with this guy.

"You're not much of a talker are you," he leaned forward, bringing his massive arms closer to my face. Why were men such douches? You know, after being annoyed with Eric all day, I really came to appreciate him in this moment. I wanted nothing more than to cry to Eric and try and explain why all men were such jerks.

"I'm just having a bad day," I said, not even bothering to smile. Surely, my glare tipped him off?

"I'll help make it better," he winked.

Nope. It sure didn't.

"How about I guess why you're here. How's that sound?" he asked. Between the food and him – could I barf all over this table? "Business?" I gave him a blank stare. "Pleasure?" The way he said it had my skin crawl. I wasn't going to play this game.

"I'm pregnant," I said. Apparently, to everyone other than Eric, that was a turn-off. Yes! Quinn's character dropped. "My fiancé is upstairs and he's a very angry, possessive Swede who could tear you apart in seconds. Normally, I'm not the kind of girl to go crying to her man to help protect her, but you're impressive muscles are making me think otherwise. I don't want to be picked up. I wanted to have lunch, but the baby is informing me that it smells like shit. Now you can either go now and one of two things will happen – my fiancé will come down and get crazy jealous or I'll barf on you and this food."

Quinn scowled, taking his drink and muttering, "Bitch," as he walked away.

My mood to leave the hotel was ruined.

I found myself crawling back into bed, snuggling up to Eric. He stirred and I felt his hand in my hair. "How long was I sleeping?" he murmured.

"Not long," I mumbled. I was suddenly overwhelmed with the urge to sleep. "Will you cuddle me while I nap?" I yawned, his strokes dragging me into dreams.

"Of course, my lover," he said. And I slept.

When I woke up two hours later, I was surprised to see Eric in a suit standing at the end of the bed. I rubbed the sleep away and took in his appearance. He looked fucking good. Fucking. I wanted to stare at him a while longer and then have him on top of me naked.

"Baby, what are you doing?" I whispered.

"We're getting married. I have a white dress for you."

"Oh well," I buried my face in the pillow. I guess we could have sex afterward, although, I felt awful right now. My mood had lightened at the prospect of sex, but now, leaving the hotel to get married sounded like a mission I was too exhausted to carry out.

"Come on, Sookie!" I glanced at him from under the pillow. He looked like a kid on Christmas morning trying to get his parents out of bed before opening presents. He would be a good Dad.

I rolled onto my back and Eric grabbed my ankles, pulling me to the edge of the bed. I moaned and he made me sit up.

"I should be offended that you're not excited," he said pulling my dress over my head, his palm brushing my breasts just because he could. "But you are pregnant and miserable, so I will be happy for the both of us until you realize that you will be my wife and I will be your husband."

I smiled. Shouldn't I be having a panic attack about getting married? Don't soon-to-be wives and husbands usually feel like their making a mistake beforehand? This just felt like another adventure with Eric. It didn't seem constraining or unnecessary, it felt good.

"I'm not supposed to see you before the wedding," I said softly. He showed me a white dress and I had no idea when he had gotten it. It was simple, pretty – I loved it. "That's nice," I reached out and touched the silky fabric.

"Where would I hide?" he asked me.

I laughed softly. "You are freakishly tall."

"More of me to love," he kissed my forehead. "I have been running around Athens while you sleep."

I frowned. "You said you would cuddle me," I accused, watching him, shiftily.

"I realized you'd like my sneaking more after this night," he beamed, slipping into the bathroom so I could change.

"I have to do my hair and make-up."

"You are perfect, already. You can just leave in the dress."

"No, I can't," I called out to him. "Can you zip me?" He re-entered and his hand stroked my spine (shivers) before zipping me up.

"We will have our first sex as husband and wife in a couple hours. I will make it different."

I grinned, turning to face him. "You always make it different."

He smiled. "Thank you," he said as if I complimented his new furniture. I shook my head, feeling absolutely giddy as the seconds ticked by. I went into the washroom, leaving the door open so we could still talk. "You have to be nice to the minister's wife," he informed me.

A few questions troubled me at once. "Wait, what? How are we even getting a marriage certificate so fast?" I frowned, realizing all these things as I brushed my teeth, careful not to get any water on my dress.

"Don't think about that. She might put flowers in your hair. She talked about flowers a lot," Eric said from the other room. "She is setting it up so I don't know how it will be."

Honestly, I was too happy to care. We could have gotten married in a cardboard box and I'd still be deliriously content about my wedding. The thought of Eric being my husband sent a chill down my spine. This was surreal. This was so fast. We got engaged like three days ago.

"How long have you been planning this?" I asked, applying some mascara.

He leaned against the doorframe watching me, looking so dashing, so classic in his formal suit. We beamed at each other through the mirror, both anticipating the impending nuptials. How odd, I didn't know him long, but no one, nothing, had made me as happy as he.

"For some time," he shrugged, his eyes dancing with mirth.

"Longer than three days?"

"Mmm," he did that lifty-shoulder thing which I related to him unwilling to answer, and wanting to keep some mystery. "I finalized it today."

I stopped staring at him. "You are so weird. I'm wondering if I am marrying a creep or a European."

"Both," Eric nodded, grinning.

"So when does this start?" I asked, putting the mascara away.

"Hmm, in approximately one hour."

I thought about that for a moment. He blew me a kiss and then went back into the room. What the hell did that mean?

"Wait, in one hour?"

"Approximately."

"I need an actual time, Eric," I called out. He didn't answer so I went to peer into the living room where he was turning on the television flicking through the channels, his brows furrowed.

"I need to learn Greek," he mumbled.

"What does approximately mean?" I asked slowly.

He gave me a blank look. "Around that time. In one hour we leave."

"But you said approximately."

"Could be more, could be less."

I turned around, not in the mood to deal with his language barrier. Although, I'm sure the issue of time was one for most men.

I was out of the washroom after one hour and Eric was sleeping on the couch, probably wrinkling his suit. I walked over and shook him awake. As cute and snugly as he looked, he had apparently been planning this for a while and some crazy minister flower lady was anxiously awaiting our arrival.

"How long was I sleeping?" he said sitting up quickly. He had asked this twice of me today and each time I was endeared.

"Approximately ten minutes. Get your butt up, let's go get married," I said. He gave me a sleepy smile and stood up, pulling me to his chest. Everything froze for a moment so we could kiss. "No sex," I said as he tried to deepen the kiss.

"Yes, after, after," he kissed my nose, and our foreheads touched. "My future wife, let's go!"

We were heading outside into the late evening. I found myself glancing into the hotel bar to see if John Quinn was still there, just out of curiosity. I hoped I dampened his sleazy mood for the rest of the night.

"What are you looking for?" Eric asked me.

"A man."

"I am here," he said, kissing my temple.

I chuckled and looked at him. He squeezed my hand. "No, I came down here for lunch while you were sleeping and this awful man tried to pick me up. He was from the States too."

"He was awful? To you? Is he still there?" I saw the look of possessiveness and I was sure I hadn't been too far off when I threatened to sick Eric on John Quinn. Not that I would have.

"It's fine. My crazy hormones did the beating up for you," I said. Eric gave me an impressed look. "I used my words."

"Interesting," he muttered. "Should I be scared of these hormones?"

"You've been experiencing them, buddy."

"Oh, I hadn't noticed," he said shrugging. We stepped outside, the sun was setting and it looked as if we'd have an idealistic wedding. Or elopement. Yeah, if you're family is not invited and you jet-off to a random destination, it was definitely eloping. The spontaneous aspect was vague since Eric seemed to know what he was doing.

I wondered if I'd be able to drag us out of bed tomorrow. There was no way I'd leave Athens without touring it. The history of this city was staggering; I practically drooled at the thought. Eric choosing dusk to get married really made me wonder if he was a romantic or if he just knew this as a general fact that the sun setting made girls swoon.

"It's a difficult to get there," Eric warned me as we grabbed a cab.

"To where we're getting married?" I asked.

"See the bright hill?" he leaned against me, pointing out my side of the car out the window. I looked up and saw a massive hill that was illuminated with lights and at the very top was a chapel. My mouth hung open.

"Seriously?" I balked. I looked at him and he nodded smugly looking proud of himself.

"That's..." I searched for something to say. "So lame."

His face fell. "What?"

"We're getting married on a hill, in a Greek chapel with the sun setting in the background?" I laughed in disbelief, mostly.

He rolled his eyes. "I will tell you now that you'll have to walk up some of the hill. That's not so nice as the setting, is it?" I looked up at the massive hill and wondered just how far I'd have to climb.

The cab found a road that began to snake up the mountain and I wondered how far up it could take us. I watched the lights dance alongside us the higher we went up. Eric sat close beside me, playing with my fingers, watching me watch the scenery. The sun was just hitting the horizon now and I wondered how much longer it would take for us to reach the chapel. Eric mentioned walking, but so far it seemed like it was possible to drive the whole way up.

As soon as I thought that, the cab stopped as the road began to narrow to nothing. It was at an awkward angle, as we were slanted against the hill. Eric reached over and paid the driver.

"Get out, my lover," he instructed, squishing me and opening the door, piling out on the same side as me. He put his hands on my hips and I looked up at the bright mountain top.

"We have to go all the way up there?" I asked, craning my neck back. "Where did you get that bright idea?"

"When I checked for what the lamest wedding could be like," he said in my ear, his low tone causing goose bumps to break across my flesh.

"I'm sure it'll be fine," I muttered.

"Oh really?" his lips touched just behind my ear and I closed my eyes, leaning into his chest. His hands wandered to cradle my soon-to-be baby bump. "My Sookie," he said breathlessly. I turned my head and our lips touched. Our mouths moved against the other with a rhythm we had perfected over the past month. My hand gripped his hair and he opened his mouth, giving room for our tongues. When Eric pulled away I moaned in protest. "We have a hill to climb!" he said loudly, startling me. He thrust into my bum, pushing me forward. I stumbled a bit and he snatched my hand, pulling us along.

He sure knew how to start a mood and then ruin it just as fast.

There was a rock that was full of flowered cactus. In the fading light and the artificial gleaming the walking stretch glowed. Straight behind the rock were stone steps weaving up to the chapel at the top.

"This is weird," I said as we made our way up the steps, illuminated by the bright lamps in the dusk.

"Why?" he asked, from behind me. I had a freaky suspicion that he might just lurch forward and scare the crap out of me while climbing up.

"How did you get this chapel? It looks like it wouldn't just be randomly available tonight," I mused. I heard Eric laugh and I really didn't feel better about that. "Let's just get married," I reasoned, that's what we were here for.

I realized just how absurd the situation I was in was. Was I being irrationally naive? Probably. I was expecting a baby and didn't know who the father was. I was marrying a man I knew for only six weeks. I was moving to a city, after a life in a small town, in a different country, all of the inhabitants speaking another language. If this wasn't being seriously in love than I didn't know what other criteria I'd need to justify this feeling.

The climbing of the stairs was putting a strain on my legs, and I was becoming winded. Eric grabbed my hand and we both went up the steps side-by side, I was thankful Eric had gotten me a dress that stopped at my knees.

I glanced over my shoulder to take a look at the view and instantly I wanted to hit myself for being so stupid as to not have my camera. I froze, not ten steps from the top. Eric saw me looking out beyond – the sun setting, the lights from the city below, the glow from the mountain – and he surprised me when he handed over my camera, pulling it from his pocket. I looked at it and felt my eyes well up with tears. I nodded silently, unable to trust my voice as I shakily took pictures, his thoughtfulness touching me more than the impromptu wedding. Hormones.

I realized that we were approximately on a time crunch and handed the camera back to Eric, who pocketed it with a sweet smile. He took my hand again and we reached the top of the stairs and made our way to the white chapel.

I immediately caught the sight of a small woman dithering around arranging flowers in certain spots. The chapel had a dome like roof, with a flat patio that seemed to be where the wedding would take place. I glanced out at the view and was overwhelmed with everything suddenly. I was glad that Eric was so steady, so sure. I held onto his hand tight, squeezing the life out of it. He lifted up our joined grasp and kissed the back of mine. His eyes were focused on me and I blushed under his warm gaze. He let go and walked over to the priest a little bit away. I stood on the edge glancing out across, the light fading with the sun beyond the horizon, a gentle breeze reaching me, but I was sweating way too much to not appreciate it.

I was aware of a presence behind me and I slowly turned around to see the small woman with frazzled hair teetering toward me from one foot to the next looking utterly beside herself with my appearance.

"Hello," I said, curious as to if she spoke English.

"Hi," she breathed, her accent prominent in that one, short word. She hurried over and I noticed her hands were full of flowers. "Come," she said. I leaned over to her small height and she began stuffing flowers in my hair. She was crying.

"Are you okay?" I asked, uncertain. I think this was the lady Eric was talking about. "What's your name?"

"Missie," she sounded out, touching her chest briefly. That's a rather American name, isn't it?

"Hello, I'm Sookie," I said slowly. She nodded knowingly and I watched tears stream down her face. Alright I was uncomfortable, but gracious for her care. She seemed to finish and patted my shoulders. I stood up straight. "Thank you," I said, touching my hair. God knows what I looked like. She was so emotional, I wondered if she were pregnant too.

"You are beautiful," she said, before hiccoughing from her sobs. My eyes widened in alarm and I looked across the flat surface of the outside chapel to see Eric speak with the priest, leaning over to understand what he was saying, and their height difference almost comical.

I raised my eyebrow briefly when I saw him glance my way, a private smirk for me. The woman tugged at my arm and I brought my attention back to Missie.

"You have big night tonight," she said, giving me a wink.

"Yes I do," I said and noticed she was pointedly glancing down at my, my hootchie. "Oh!" I exclaimed, shocked. Missie wiped away her tears and gave a small smile.

"You will have to be strong. It will be over soon," she told me of my 'wedding night' as if it would be the first time. It's not like it had already occurred after a drunken night at a bar six weeks ago.

"Oh," I repeated, my eyes diverting, a blush creeping up my neck. "Yes."

"You just lie there," she continued. "He do the rest. He be done then you sleep." She waved a hand like it was nothing to worry about.

I didn't know whether to laugh or pretend to take her advice seriously. I nodded solemnly.

I was already pregnant. I knew the logistics.

"It may hurt," she added as an afterthought. Oh dear God. Next time Eric looked over here I was going to demand he come to me with my eyes. "He seem like a size that would, hmmm," she said thoughtfully. I glanced at her and she held her hands apart to convey the potential size of Eric's penis. Honestly, she wasn't far off, and if I had been a virgin, like she thought I was, I would have been in a lot of pain.

Best wedding pre-talk ever.

"You may get baby," she poked my stomach and I flinched. "That would be good."

"Yes," I drew out the 's'. Baby equals good. Got it. Is that how some people defined good sex? I certainly hadn't thought of it that way when I discovered my pregnancy.

"You will be okay," she patted my arm reassuringly and began to quiver in tears again. I caught Eric's eye and pointedly made it clear that he get over here now. He said one last thing to the priest and then jogged over to me. I felt myself relax as I held Missie to my side, her face buried in my bosom as she cried her eyes out.

"Oh, Missie. Why are you sad?" Eric said, familiar with the woman's hysteria. She transferred from me to him and smashed her head into his stomach, because she was at that height, her arms buried behind his suit jacket. "I like your hair, my lover," he looked as if he were suppressing laughter. I shook my head before nodding at the blubbering woman as an explanation.

He tapped her back awkwardly, not one for hugging strange women it seemed, unless he was going to fuck them, I assumed, remembering him and me that night in Stockholm.

"Sookie, the wedding will be in Greek."

I looked at him warily.

"He doesn't know the translation," Eric shrugged.

"So he could be reciting a recipe and we wouldn't know the difference?" I asked, putting a hand on my hip.

"Mmm, no. I think I have picked up on some Greek," he said looking quite sure of himself.

"In one day," I said doubtfully.

"Language is easy," he grinned, acting like a smart-ass. He put his large hands on Missie's slender shoulders and pulled her from her lock around his torso. "Missie, I am getting married. Cry from the side, not on me."

He said it in the nicest way possible.

She nodded and shuffled off to watch.

"Oh wait," Eric handed her my camera and turned back to me to hold my hand. I assumed Missie knew how to work it. He turned his full body to me and I looked up, my eyes wandering over his dark, suited frame. His eyes twinkling, my heart pounding, I wondered how I could ever not be by his side. He stepped forward and his warm hands settled on the curve of my hips, bringing a chaste kiss to my lips. "Are you ready?" he looked more than.

I nodded, feeling my knees buckling, nerves and excitement tangled in a knot of confusion. We held hands, as we walked toward the priest, the beautiful lights giving the perfect glow as we saw the red sky fade in the distance to blue. I was nervous; this is what girls dream about when their small. I never thought mine would be with a man like Eric.

I looked up at him and he was staring at me, his face sober, his eyes wide, trusting me with his heart. I was scared. Our bodies angled toward each other and Eric brought my knuckles to his lips, his eyes intensely unwavering.

The priest began to speak the service.

Missie was in hysterics, the noise of crying and foreign speech surrounding us. There was a flash and I blinked, looking at Missie who wasn't even looking at what picture she was taking. For all I knew the pictures would show up with just my feet showing or Eric's shoulder. Eric tugged my arm and I brought my gaze back to his, smiling. I wouldn't be doing this if it weren't him.

So here we were.

I was marrying Eric.

We were having a baby.

I was moving to Stockholm.

I realized that whenever a little girl imagines their wedding day, it usually ends there. I had so much to deal with afterward that it didn't seem like the happiest day in the world; however, it was the happiest moment. Being with Eric felt right. He tried to understand when he was supposed to say 'I do'. He seemed to get distracted; his thumb gently caressing my palm, there was a significant pause. The priest had been glaring pointedly at my soon-to-be husband, who had a pink brightness reach his cheeks. Swiftly and smoothly, Eric promised to love me until death do us part. I responded in kind, without the long pause of confusion, chuckling at his insistence that he wasn't hesitating intentionally.

We wed.

We kissed.

I was in his arms for the rest of the night – he wouldn't let me go.

The beginning of the beginning of the end. Yes, that makes sense (I'm sure of it).

How to get you to review this one last time? THE LAST TIME for this fic. Well. I can give you a spoiler for what to expect in the sequel...

What do you do once you marry a totally hot Swede and hadn't really told anyone about it? Well, you gotta tell your religious grandma.

OH! and the fact that you're pregnant!

OHHHH! And you don't know who the father is!

Gosh that's depressing. Review for Sookie, tell her you got her back! Euro!Eric might object to that and claim that it is his, but we don't like to say who owns who now do we?