AN: So here it is folks. The sequel to Over the Hills and Far Away.

I hope you find and follow this okay!

I have a beta now: beatlechickstep! YAY!!!

On with the show!

"He smiled understandingly-much more than understandingly. It was one of those rare smiles with a quality of eternal reassurance in it, that you may come across four or five times in life. It faced--or seemed to face--the whole external world for an instant, and then concentrated on you with an irresistible prejudice in your favor. It understood you just as far as you wanted to be understood, believed in you as you would like to believe in yourself."
— F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby

Chapter 1: Baby, What a Surprise

"Eric we are not having sex in the bathroom," I said firmly.

We were in a proper plane flying to New York City then catching a connecting flight to New Orleans and then driving five hours to Bon Temps.

We had been married three days. It felt the same with Eric. I didn't feel profoundly different as a wife, and Eric acted exactly the same. He had changed from my one-night stand, to travel buddy, to lover, to boyfriend, to fiancé and to husband. Right now, he was sliding his hand from my knee up my inner thigh. You give a guy one quickie in the cramped washroom and suddenly he thinks all plane rides will consist of sex. I swatted his arm away. The flight attendant rolled beside us.

"Can I get you two anything?" she asked, her eyes lingering on Eric.

I could either be annoyed every time a woman looked at Eric or I could learn to shrug it off. "Can you get my wife to let me feel her up?" Eric asked shamelessly.

My face turned beet red, and the woman blushed slightly too, fumbling over her words. "Eric," I hissed, looking away out the window.

"Never mind I think I just made it worse," Eric said waving it off.

"Uh, yeah, I think you did too," the woman mumbled, looking around staggered by the large, gorgeous man who acted pretty clueless as to people's comfort levels. He was going to do great in America.

"Oh, I'll have water," Eric remembered.

***

"You are not going to like Sweden weather," Eric said once we stepped out of airport in New Orleans. "You are used to this?" he asked, grabbing his shirt and fanning his chest. He looked as if he had instantly been hit with sheen of sweat all over his body. He looked hot.

I shook the visual of licking Eric's neck out of my head. "I'm a bit frightened about that, actually," I admitted. "I'm used to heat."

"What is your winter temperature?" he asked, wiping his brow. He began kicking our bags as we moved up the line waiting for our rental car to show up.

"Oh about the thirties..." I said slowly.

"What's that?"

I tried to calculate it to Celsius. "Maybe around three degrees," I guessed.

Eric snorted. "You are going to hate winter. I will do my best to warm you, though," he looked delighted at the challenge.

"Why?" I feared. "What's the lowest temperature in the winter for you guys?" Did I even want to know? I grew up in the South, we were fragile in the winter months. I wasn't sure I could handle anything below thirty.

"Coldest I ever had was minus-thirty or so," he answered. My eyes widened as I did the math.

"That's minus-twenty in Fahrenheit!" I balked.

"Uh, sure," Eric said. "Ah it's hot." It was probably in the mid-eighties here right now, but it felt warmer, the humidity must be high.

The car that we rented pulled up in front of us and we were handed the keys and getting our stuff into the vehicle. I had to explain to Eric that perhaps he should watch me drive on the American roads before he gave it a try. It wasn't a very big car and Eric's knees looked really high up to his chest when I settled behind the wheel. I looked over at him and he was breathing raggedly. I turned on the car to get the air conditioning going, the air feeling tight and heavy.

We waited in the traffic to exit the airport in silence. It was so weird to be back home. I was familiar with this; I knew which roads to take like it was the back of my own hand. Eric was the one who was looking around curiously, rolling down the window.

"I have the air conditioning on," I said. He switched it off and we turned onto the highway, a big breeze coming through the open window. I rolled down my side too.

It was a rather cloudy day, threatening rain. Eric looked out to the water as we drove along the I-10.

"There's a lot of water," he commented. "Like Stockholm, except there is no city here."

"I don't think anyone has ever compared Louisiana to Stockholm before."

"No, I suppose not," he muttered. "There's nothing to look at."

"It's sparse, yes," I said.

"I guess you have to live here to like it," he said diplomatically, settling into his seat, his height a discomfort for him.

"Even then..." I laughed slightly. "No, I love Louisiana, its home."

His eyes shifted to me and I glanced at him. He was giving me a sceptical look. "Stockholm will be your home soon."

I hesitated, biting my lip, trying not thinking about how nervous I was about that. "I hope so."

About an hour into the drive, my nerves were wildly out of control. I was sweating even with the wind wafting into the car; I wondered just how much Bill might have told Gran about us. He probably went to see her when he got back home, across the cemetery from our old farmhouse. What would Gran say? How would I tell her the situation I was in? I couldn't lie. It would be too much of a strain on me and our relationship.

How would Jason react? I felt horror wash over me. I couldn't drive anymore. I pulled over to the side of the road and Eric woke up from his nap.

"Hey, can you drive now? Do you get it?" He gave his body a shake and we both got out of the car. He settled into the left-side seat and flexed his fingers onto the steering wheel.

"This is weird," he said, slowly looking at the unfamiliar Louisiana terrain. "Alright, buckle up, baby!" he reached over and patted my tummy lightly, zooming recklessly off onto the road.

I hadn't been in a car with Eric before. I always obeyed the rules and never went over the speed limit, but Eric...

"Uh, slow down," I hissed. "Eric! This isn't the Indy 500," I screeched. "We have police here!"

"We have police in Stockholm," he laughed. "There's more room here to drive fast."

"Yeah, but I have a baby and a human body! I will break at the sheer force of speed we're going at."

Eric slowed down. "You're roads are big," he complimented.

"Thanks," I said sarcastically. I watched him blatantly ignore the lines in the middle of the road and passed a car when it was not his turn. "Eric!"

He laughed. "I feel as if the rules are different here."

"They're probably mostly the same," I said sternly. "You know reckless and life-threatening driving leads to being pulled over!"

"Meh," he shrugged, speeding again to pass another car.

"You're crazy!" I held onto the seat, afraid for my life. I closed my eyes putting a hand on the dashboard to brace myself for a crash. I had to admit Eric had good reflexes. I just wasn't going to watch him amaze me with them.

I heard a car zoom and honk as Eric swerved the car. Finally, I heard sirens.

"You fucking idiot," I whispered.

"Oh," Eric said, pulling over to the side.

"You better have your passport, or your birth certificate. My God, Eric," I said, making sure my purse was there.

"It's in my pocket."

"Put your hands on the wheel," I snapped. My heart was pounding as I thought about bringing my husband home to meet my Gran and mentioning how he got us pulled over.

"I'll pretend I can't speak English," he said.

"No," I hissed and then the cop walked up to the driver's side.

"License and registration," he said routinely. I might have been able to cry my way out of this one if I was driving, but it wouldn't have happened to me. I knew all the car insurance paperwork was in my purse.

"Ah," Eric said, not moving to get it.

"Sir?"

"I not know," he laid it on thick. My husband. I had a headache. At least I was pretty sure my life with Eric would never be boring.

"Excuse me?" the cop said.

"I no English," he hesitated. My husband was also a good actor. His eyes darted around helplessly, while his hand waved in front of him like a 'no' gesture. He let out a breath of exasperation for show.

"Sir," the cop said. He peered in and saw me. "Ma'am can you speak English?"

"Yes, officer," I said, flushing in embarrassment. "I'm sorry. He's my husband and I'm bringing him home to meet the family."

"Can he speak English?"

I hated myself for lying, to a man of the law. "Not very well. He's from Sweden." Eric smiled with a shrug. Oh dear Lord.

"Would you mind if you two stepped out of the vehicle with your information?"

"Eric, get out of the car," I said, eyeing him meaningfully. He wasn't getting sex for a month. Eric winked at me and the cop stepped out of the way so he could get out. I grabbed my purse and set it on the roof of the car. "Eric, honey, where's your passport?" I asked him in a fake sweet voice.

He gave me a confused look. "I no, slow," he said, his brows furrowing, he gave a look of panic as he stared from the cop to me.

"Ma'am, why would you let a man who does not know how to read English drive?" the cop asked.

Oh, mother fucking Eric. My husband looked as if he hadn't expected that question.

"Well," I started. "I didn't know he would react that way, honestly. He just wanted to give it a try. He was overcome with an urge to speed. He's not used to such wide roads," I babbled, widening my eyes, ready to release the waterworks.

"Enough," the cop said, lifting a hand.

"Eric, get your passport," I said. Eric had to keep up the act. I pulled out mine hastily from my purse feeling my hands shake. I waved it in front of him.

"Oh!" he exclaimed, smiling all the same. He dug into his back pocket and showed the cop the proof that he was a foreigner. "Hot," he said, conversationally. The cop did not look amused.

"Alright, you appear to be telling the truth," he said stiffly. He pulled out his ticket pad. I began to cry.

Eric and the cop looked at me alarmed. "This is just awful," I stamped my foot. "I have to tell my Gran that I married an idiot!" I flailed my arm at Eric. "She doesn't even know about him or us. I'm pregnant too and I have to tell her that this man married me because he thinks the child is his – and to be quite honest, officer, I don't even know if it is! I can't explain it to him, because he doesn't know any fucking English! This relationship is hopeless," I sobbed, a river of tears streaming down my face. "I was blinded by his good-looks and big dick!" I heaved shakily; taking a page out of Eric's acting manual.

"Okay?" I heard Eric ask as if he were concerned. What a bastard.

"My Gran's gonna kill me. I'm only twenty-two and this big lug of an idiot is eleven years older than me! She's religious too, you must know. I'm a big, fat, pregnant whore," I blubbered. I was crying hard.

I looked at the cop through my tears and saw his head move between the two of us helplessly; a hormonal pregnant woman and a dumb non-English giant.

"Alright, ma'am, how about I send you off with a warning. As long as you drive, does that seem fair?" the cop asked.

"Oh," I sighed, wiping my tears. "Thank you officer. Oh my God, you saved my life. Thanks so much." I rounded the car and let the cop get a close-up look at my puffy red eyes and tear-stained cheeks. I nudged Eric to go to the passenger side.

"Drive safely. Are you sure you don't want to spend a couple minutes gathering yourself?" he asked.

"That would be smart," I mumbled sitting down and closing the door. The cop nodded and headed back to his car. He drove away and gave us a wave. Eric settled in and I turned to him, ready to attack. "I want to kill you," I said in a low voice.

"That was very good acting, my lover."

"Nope, that's not going to cut it. I'm driving from now on, mister," I hissed, wiping my eyes clear and starting the car. "Don't talk to me or I'll leave you on the side of the road."

He didn't utter another word.

A couple of times I heard Eric make an intake of breath as if he were about to say something before he thought better of it. We drove past Baton Rouge while Eric was sleeping. I thought about waking him so he could see, but still felt pissed off enough to let him miss it.

He did wake up when we were travelling over a bridge and green pastures. It was the first bout of fresh looking grass I'd seen yet, everywhere else was browning. He made a noise, forgetting he wasn't supposed to speak for a moment, before closing his mouth. He knew he was in the dog house. Our first fight as a married couple, what a milestone.

The sun had come out about two and a half hours into our travel. We were halfway there and I was dying for some iced tea and a nap. I felt exhausted. We passed through the small-town Bunkie and Eric's face did not look impressed. I think he was realizing just how poor Louisiana was.

We closed the windows and decided to enjoy some artificial cool air for a while.

A lot of the highways looked the same and were hardly distinctly different the longer we drove. Eric was bored, I was bored.

We finally reached Shreveport and drove around it. There was no way I was in any mood to deal with city traffic. It was nearing dinner time and I was done.

We passed the sign, "Welcome to Bon Temps" and Eric and I perked up. I was suddenly hit with a mass of nerves at the thought of what I was about to do. I gasped for breath and Eric put a hand to my neck, gently stroking underneath my pony-tail. I was thankful for him now. I mean, if I thought back at us getting pulled over a few years from now, it'll probably be a hilarious story. It all worked out in the end.

We drove down Hummingbird road before I turned up the drive to the house.

"Oh God, I'm nervous," I felt breathless.

"I will be here, my lover," he murmured. That was the best first words after hours of silence he ever could have said.

We pulled up in front of the old farmhouse and I looked at Eric to gauge his expression. He winked at me and got out of the car. I sighed exiting too.

"Sookie!" I heard my Gran and I saw her rushing out of the house and down the stairs. She jogged over to me and put her hands on my cheeks bringing my forehead to her lips. "Oh Sookie!"

I felt myself start to cry. "Gran I missed you," I told her. She smiled brightly and we hugged. We turned to Eric who stood on the other side of the car, his hands in his pockets and the nicest smile he could muster – which was pretty damn breathtaking. "Gran, this is Eric."

Gran looked up at his height, her blue eyes widening in surprise. "Well hello," she said moving over and holding out her hand.

"Hi," he said simply, meeting her eyes. He was smouldering my grandmother. Gran actually had some colour on her face and she couldn't keep a smile away.

"It's nice to meet you. I'm anxious to hear how you met Sookie," Gran said.

"Oh, it is a very good story with a happy ending," Eric winked and Gran laughed. I was nervous as to what Eric was going to say next. I felt like he'd put his foot in his mouth.

We headed up to the house. Gran had been vigorously cleaning for who knew how many days beforehand. We settled into the living room, with Eric and me on the couch and Gran in the arm chair. His arm went behind the back of my head, touching my shoulder. I let out a shaky breath as Gran offered us a drink. I tried to stand up and get it but Gran insisted I sit.

She was going to be so upset.

She missed my wedding.

I didn't know who the father was.

She came back and we took nice refreshing sips from our iced tea.

"So," Gran started.

"Gran," I interrupted instead. "I have a few things I have to tell you and I just want to spit them out. You're going to be very disappointed in me and I don't want that. I'm so sorry." Based on Gran's reaction, she was worried. I couldn't find my voice, staring at her expectant face.

Jason had to come in and interrupt. "There's my little sister," he said, his eyes bulged out of his sockets as he took in Eric's appearance. I saw Jason's new wife Crystal, much more pregnant than I, follow him into the living room. Jason hugged me when I stood and I introduced them both to Eric. Crystal was eyeing Eric like he was a slab of meat and I remembered how trashy she was. Eric was very formal, very polite and I wondered when his personality would pop out and shock us all to silence.

Great. I hoped I wouldn't have to do this in front of Jason, but since I already started...

"Jason, could you sit down, I'm telling Gran something very important," my voice cracked and I was crying. Jason and Crystal exchanged an exasperated look as they sat on the loveseat. Eric took my hand and played with my fingers, like he always did, like he found them so incredibly interesting. "Gran, Eric and I are married."

Why did I choose that one first? Because it was a lot better than I'm pregnant? Gran made a small gasp. Jason exclaimed, "What?!"

"Yes, it's true," Eric said looking up into my Gran's face and then Jason. "We got married on a mountain top in Greece. I would show you pictures but they are very blurry. They do show that the chapel was very well lit."

"Oh," Gran said, her eyes unfocused as she looked at Jason whose mouth was gaping open.

I could feel my brother's stupidity come to a head. "Who is this guy?" Jason spluttered.

"Oh, I'm her lover."It was all so simple to Eric.

"He's my husband, Jason," I said, giving him an incredulous look.

"No, Sookie," Jason said, looking frustrated. "Who is this guy? Where the fuck are you from?"

"Jason!" Gran gasped. "Enough! You will address our guest with manners."

"I am from Stockholm," Eric said, looking unperturbed by Jason. Eric was like six inches taller than my brother. Also, this was one of the few males he didn't have to feel jealous around.

"Where's that?" Jason mocked. My brother failed geography. He failed high school.

Eric turned to me. "Is this an American joke?" I put a hand on his knee shaking my head for him to stop.

"Jason, Eric is Swedish. I'd appreciate it if you treated him with respect," I said, giving my brother a stern look.

"Jason, we will have none of your rude behaviour this evening," Gran added. "Sookie, I don't know what to say."

"I do. I can say that I love her," Eric said. Gran didn't look too convinced. She had every right, based on the math in her head she must have realized we hadn't been together for more than six weeks. "I am attached to your grand-daughter like, uh, leech."

"A leech?" I heard Crystal snort. Eric and I looked at her.

Eric smiled pleasantly. "Or a baby monkey. You know how their arms are long and clingy. I am long and clingy with Sookie." Everyone was stunned, trying to see if what he had said made any sense. They would be thinking for a long time because I still didn't understand what he meant half the time. But I loved him for it. I really did. His declaration had my heart swell like the Grinch on Christmas morning. Eric was Christmas.

"What planet is he from?" Crystal whispered to Jason. I was tempted to smack her. I wanted to reach across the coffee table and slap that smug look off her stupid slutty face.

"You listen to me Jason, Crystal, you're being very rude and your comments are arbitrary. I love Eric and...I'm moving to Stockholm," I added the second big secret.

"Sookie," Gran breathed. She truly looked at a loss as to what to say. Eric held my hand tight as I tried to cope with hurting my Gran this way. "Sookie...Is there anything else?"

I was breathing erratically, my heart unable to settle. "Yes," I choked, more tears falling down. Eric grabbed my shoulder and turned my face to his. He cupped my chin and wiped away the tears, making me forget about everything for just a moment while my eyes searched his for comfort. "Gran, you know about Bill."

Gran braced herself. Her hands gripped the arms of the chair. "I talked to him last week. He told me that you had something big to say. I'm guessing there's more," she said calmly. I think she knew, or at least she suspected.

"I'm pregnant," I said in a small voice.

Eric's large hand was rubbing my back, trying to calm down my heaving breaths. He lifted my hand and kissed it. He was being so sweet, but I had to focus all my attention on my grandmother who was very still, her eyes wandering between Eric and me.

Thank God Jason and Crystal had kept their mouth shut.

"Also," I breathed deep. "I don't know who the father is."

The silence got so thick that all the air in the room left. Everyone stared in horror at Sookie's predicament.

"Well," Eric spoke up. "I think I know who the father is. It will be me. It is me."

Jason made a sound as if he were choking. "Sookie," he uttered in disbelief. I looked at him feeling shame.

"Sookie," Eric said. He forced me to look at him. "Don't be like that. Be brave. Come now, this is good. Babies are good. Our baby will be good," he said. His eyes travelled from my brother, his wife and my Gran.

"Sookie." It was like an echo in here, everyone whispering my name. "Honey," Gran called my attention.

"I'm sorry," I blubbered at her.

"Honey, your...husband is right. Babies are good," Gran reached out and I held her hand. She squeezed it tightly, trying to be understanding. It was one thing for this situation to happen to Jason, it was another for it to be me.

"You must be so disappointed," I cried, unable to stop big deep gasps. I shook from my own hysteria and Eric held me still.

"Sookie, you're a grown woman. I trust you. This must be very...hard for you," Gran said. She was so strong. I hardly deserved her for a grandmother.

I fell onto my knees in front of her on the hardwood floors and cried into my Gran's comfortable chest. Her hugs were the best. She could make things better.

***

The next day I was leading Eric into Merlotte's. Yesterday had been very emotional and today I planned on taking Eric to see as much of Bon Temps that there was and then to go to the grocery store and pick up food to make dinner for Gran.

I hadn't seen Sam in almost two months now and I realized once we entered into the familiar bar that I had missed him a lot.

Sam looked up from serving a beer and beamed rounding the bar and running over to me. He pulled me into his arms as if he hadn't noticed the six-foot-five glaring Swede next to me. I politely hugged Sam back.

"Sookie!" he exclaimed pulling me back, staring me over. "You look different! I don't know how, but you do."

"Thanks Sam," I blushed. He hadn't removed his hands from my waist. Eric's tendons were protruding from his arm, his fists clenched and I hadn't even looked up at his face yet. "Sam this is Eric. My husband."

Sam froze, balking. He looked up at Eric who had the most unimpressed expression I'd ever seen. I stepped out of Sam's grasp and wove my fingers with Eric's.

"Want to join us for lunch?" I smiled weakly. Telling everyone after Gran seemed like a piece of cake. Should I tell Sam about the baby? Yeah, I owed it to him. He'd been my friend and boss for four years.

Sam nodded numbly. Eric didn't seem pleased with the idea. It was mid afternoon and pretty deserted here.

"Hiya, Sookie. When did you get back?" I looked over and saw JB du Rone approach me. He hugged me too. I let go of Eric to give a proper one. This was like all the men in Bon Temps knew I was no longer single and finally decided to hug me because of that.

"Um, yesterday," I said looking between Sam, Eric and JB. "JB, this is my husband Eric."

"Nice to meet ya," JB said extending his hand. Eric didn't even look at it. I nudged him for being so unmannerly. JB's face fell. "Well, I gotta head back to work. I'll see you soon, Sook?"

"Maybe," I said weakly, waving goodbye. All three of us piled into a booth, Eric and me on one side, Sam on the other. He looked pale.

"This is..." Sam cleared his throat. "Surprising."

I nodded. "It's great though. But there's uh," I looked at Eric's cold stare, directed at Sam. I put my hand on his thigh, rubbing it as soothingly as I could. "I'm moving to Stockholm with him. That's where he's from."

I don't think Sam could be more shocked if I pulled out a banjo and whacked him over the head with it.

"You're moving to Sweden?" he stuttered.

"Yes, she is, with me," Eric spoke up, his tone clipped. He looked more defensive then when he faced Bill. What was going on with him? I squeezed his thigh, but he didn't seem to notice.

"She can speak for herself," Sam cut across. Um, what? I felt my body ringing in alarm. This did not feel like it would end well.

Eric's neck was prominently shadowed and it looked really...biteable, but it was only because he looked like was gearing to head butt Sam or something. "I never heard of you before today," Eric said evenly, his accent thick as he tried to reign in his temper.

"Oh and who are you? Some random guy who doesn't even know her?"

Why was everyone making this about me being unable to make decisions for myself? I was getting irritated and so was Eric. I couldn't believe Sam was thinking so little of me. I opened my mouth to say something before Eric cut me off.

"She is my wife. What is she to you?"

Sam turned red in the face and leaned forward. "She'll only see your good looks for so long."

I gaped. "That's enough!" I said sharply. Eric went to get out of the booth when I shoved my fist into his balls. He froze and settled back down looking slightly pained. I felt bad and began to rub him through his jeans. "Sam do you really think so little of me?" I asked, feeling so offended by my old friend that I didn't know whether it'd be appropriate if I cried. I think I'd done enough of that.

Sam finally seemed to remember I was present. His face looked downward. "I'm sorry, Sookie. I'm just..."

"I love Eric," I said, trying to catch his eye to tell him so, but he avoided it.

Sam cleared his throat. "What about Bill? Didn't you go with him?"

"Bill is out," Eric said. I think he meant 'out of the picture'. I decided to gratefully unzip his zipper, to get better access at his hardening cock. He leaned his elbows against the table, moving in closer on Sam. Intimidation. That's not obvious, Eric. Or he was trying to cover where my arm was.

Holly walked over to our booth. "Hey, Sookie, when did you get back?" she asked beaming at me.

"Yesterday," I said, trying to look cool as ever as I was giving Eric a hand-job underneath the table.

She looked at Eric and raised an eyebrow, but didn't say a word. "Can I get you guys anything? Sam?"

Was it such a good idea to stay?

"Um," I said thoughtfully, grazing my fingernails along his length. Eric shifted, making a thoughtful noise too, although, since I knew what it was for, it was a bit of a moan. "I'll have water, Eric?"

"Please," he said, not even looking at the waitress. In fact he shifted his glare from Sam and was concentrating on the napkin dispenser.

"Sam can we be civil?" I asked, my hand still moving.

Sam looked defeated, he pinched the bridge of his nose briefly. "Yes, you're right. I'm sorry, Sookie. I shouldn't have reacted," he said, staring at me. It was probably too much to have Eric and Sam apologized to one another. I didn't care; I just wanted, at this point, peace. Eric just wanted release.

I squeeze his member hard and his leg kicked out and from what I could tell he got Sam in the shin. "Ow, what the hell was that for?" Sam exploded, leaning forward under the table grabbing his leg.

"Sorry," Eric said gruffly. I pulled my hand away realizing this was a mistake when Eric gripped my wrist and pushed my hand back on his significant bulge. I raised my eyebrows at him. I wondered how long this could last. I didn't actually think he was going to come...

"Sam, I don't want to be mad at you. I missed you," I said, giving him a genuine smile. Sam smiled back too. Eric slammed his hand pointedly on the table. I had just tugged his balls.

"Eric, stop it," I said for our company.

Sam started to look uncomfortable. I was too distracted to feel the tense atmosphere and so was Eric. I stared at my new husband. He had his chin in his hand and was staring out the window, so I just saw the back of his head. His leg kept twitching. I turned my attention to Sam.

"How's the bar been?"

Sam and I talked. Every time Eric would get close, to the point where I thought he was going to just bury his head in his arms, I'd pull my hand away and he'd reach down and grip my arm hard, urging me to continue. I was incredibly amused but also frightened that he'd just shout out in Swedish, scaring everyone while eating their lunch.

"Sookie," Eric interrupted, finally talking after minutes of being tensely quiet. Sam looked irritated, I think he had been pretending that Eric wasn't there. "Could you finish? I'm uncomfortable."

Sam was under the impression he was talking about our ménage-a-trois, but Eric wanted me to make him come. I looked at Sam and then back at Eric.

"I don't care about him," he said, watching my hesitation.

"I'm sorry Sam," I turned to my old boss. "Eric is not used to American customs."

"Fuck, woman," Eric groaned. Sam's eyes widened and I heard Mrs. Fortenberry gasp for she had been eavesdropping. I put my hand back in Eric's lap and tugged at his hard cock forcefully and Eric leaned back closing his eyes as he released in my hand. He was silent, thank God. That was awkward. I wiped my hand on his thigh and Eric smiled in a relaxed state, his whole persona for the length of lunch changing back into his regular light mood. Holly walked by. "Ah, Miss," Eric said, grunting as he sat up straight. "I would like the best burger here."

When we left the bar an hour later, I tried to push Eric back to the car before anyone saw the stain on his jeans. He moaned and rubbed his tummy.

"That was good," he said.

"We have to go grocery shopping and you're wearing those disgusting clothes," I said as we sat in the car. "Eric!" I said as he began to take off his pants. Everleigh Mason peered into the rental to see my husband strip down. He had no underwear on and she screamed waddling back into the bar.

"I don't think she's seen one this big," Eric grinned and reached to the back seat where he had left a bag and pulled out his swim trunks. He pulled them on.

"That's lovely," I muttered. "Thanks."

"Thank you," he grinned.

I had compiled a list of things we would need for the dinner we planned on making. Eric and I had never cooked for each other or together and I wondered how that would work. He went off to get the vegetables and I was in the aisle with the pasta. We were domestically blissful and we hadn't even set up a home yet.

"Sookie?" I looked up from the shelf of different noodle options and saw Bill staring at me with a shopping basket in his hand. Oh perfect.

"Hi Bill," I said, my body leaning on the cart for support. "How are you?" I asked. What else was I supposed to say? We still have this baby-drama to settle.

"I'm...how are you?" he looked away. "You're back in Bon Temps, that's good."

"Not really," I said just as I felt Eric round the corner and walk up behind me. He reached over my shoulder and plopped the bags of vegetables in the seat for children.

"Eric's here," Bill said in disbelief.

"Yeah, we're here to see Gran and then we're heading to Stockholm."

"For good..."

"That's the plan," I said softly. To think, seven weeks ago, I loved this man, now I didn't even think about him in that way – I just wanted him out of my life and the baby's.

Bill shifted awkwardly on his feet. Eric was ever the demanding presence behind me. "The baby..."

"It's good. I'll be looking for a nice doctor in Stockholm," I said. "I'll...keep you updated."

There was an awful pause at my words. "Good," Bill said, still unable to meet my eye. "I'd like that."

"Good," I said.

"Good," Eric said stiffly.

"We have to go," I said before this could end up like the Sam confrontation that could only be hindered by the distraction of sex. There was no way I was giving Eric a blow job against a wall of cereal boxes with wacky cartoon characters on them eyeing me.

I turned the cart around and moved out of the aisle not fast enough. "This hasn't been a very pleasant day," I muttered.

"I want us to be steady," Eric said, leaning over me with his hands on either side of me, beside mine on the handle, pushing the cart with me. "A home. No more men. Just you, me and our daughter." I sighed and leaned back into his chest, hoping to God that that came true because it sounded nice.

Hello there little green button. You're a big boy aren't you? AREN'T YOU!? A GOOCHY-GOOCHY-GOO! AWWW! LOOK IT'S YAWNING! Put a review in that mouth, won't you?