A/N - Please note that the timing in this story will not be in canon. I will happily move scenes around to fit my story but I will do my best to make it believable. For the time being, the only major thing I'm changing is the maenad storyline from Season 2. Please place that entire plotline AFTER the Dallas one. At the beginning of this story, Sookie has not been attacked, Tara has not been manipulated and Sam is still the kindly and calm bartender we all love. Mary-Ann has not been introduced. For now. The reason for Sookie going to Dallas was to release Lafayette (like in the show), only she didn't find him when she'd been attacked; she heard his thoughts when Bill took her there to take care of business. I hope this isn't too confusing for anyone.

The Audi rolled into the parking lot of the bar smoothly. She'd expected it to be quite busy, as she'd heard it was doing incredibly well and was attracting customers in their hundreds. However, her suspicions were incorrect and there were not many vehicles present, only a few beat up Fords and a Mustang or two. It was eerily empty, which was quite usual for a Tuesday evening at only 8PM. She switched off the engine, and reveled in the newfound silence that accompanied her action. She could hear her steady breathing echo around her and the soothing noise the crickets made outside. It was a resounding contrast to her raging internal battle.

Sarah looked around. To her left was the entrance to the bar: a normal door opening with a long red cover outside, presumably to stop customers getting wet should it rain. To her, it seemed tacky almost, as she imagined everything about this bar would be. To it's left was a neon sign of the name of the bar, although it need not be there, she thought, as most people in the surrounding area had heard of "the first vampire-friendly bar in Louisiana". She, however, had heard of it from a different source, as her hometown was Dallas, Texas.

She despised the fact that she was here. She hated to be dependant on someone, especially a stranger. She prided herself on being her own woman, a fierce being who was the best at what she did, so running to someone for help went against her very nature. The only thing keeping her here was Godric (and self-preservation, but she didn't like to acknowledge that). If he hadn't wanted this, she wouldn't be here at all. She'd have been tucked away in her small apartment back in Dallas, mourning and working.

Although her breathing remained slow and steady as she thought of her now deceased best friend, her eyes welled up and her hands began to shake on the steering wheel. It had been four months since Godric had met the sun on the roof of Hotel Carmilla, yet Sarah was still torn up about it. She always wondered if there was something she could've done to prevent the almost biblical tragedy. If she'd been around more to help him cope with the ongoing vampire-human relations, if she'd been there to comfort him when Victoria, a member of his nest, met her true death at the hands of extremists - if, if, if. Guilt gnawed away at her like a maggots in an apple because the truth was she hadn't made much of an effort at all. She'd been far too focused on herself and her future, like always. Sarah believed that everyone was innately selfish, but she felt her own actions crossed the metaphorical line.

Hence why she was sitting in her car outside a vampire bar in Shreveport. She was doing what Godric wanted.

She took a deep breath and exited her car, shoving the keys in her jeans pocket when it was locked. The air was warm and the heat pressed down on her which only exacerbated her tension. A few people were stood outside smoking and what not and Sarah assumed they were not queuing and bypassed them to the door. A woman stood just inside the threshold and she asked for ID. Sarah almost laughed, what with her being 25, but showed the lady her ID nonetheless. Sarah knew the woman to be Pam, Godric's grandchild for all intents and purposes. Her big blonde hair gave her away, as did her ever-present smirk. Sarah reluctantly felt somewhat intimidated by this woman, although she would never show it or admit it. Pam possessed a natural elegance and calm that Sarah had to work at, as she was renowned for being hot-headed. In her industry, however, it would not do to be confrontational or reckless, so she constantly had to strive to keep her temper under wraps.

Pam handed back the woman's ID, not really paying much attention to the little tanned girl whose heart was hammering at a mile a minute. She was far more focused on her master who was currently sat in his office. He wasn't doing paperwork like he'd told her as she heard no rustling, but rather he was just sat there in his leather chair, thinking. Pam sighed to herself. He was likely to be thinking about the telepath, a meek blonde who'd caught his eye. Pam knew her maker like no one else did, so she knew that the only reason he was interested was because he couldn't have her. Compton had made that quite clear. Obviously Pam found the girl attractive - who didn't? - but she felt that the Stackhouse girl was not worth the trouble her maker was exerting in winning her over. After all, he could have anyone he wanted - one weedy little telepathic blonde girl was nothing. Well…at least she thought it was nothing. Her attentions to her maker were divided when a busty brunette slid up to her, offering her neck. Since drinking was not allowed on the premises, she glamoured the girl into waiting for her after hours. Pam, pleased with her catch, resumed her mundane task of asking the customers for their ID.

Sarah walked past the blonde and round the corner to come face to face with the main section of the bar. The walls were painted a deep red, almost burgundy, and pictures hung from the walls showing vampire culture (mainly fictional). She saw one picture was of the 20's film "The Blonde Vampire," which she thought was probably referencing the vampire who owned Fangtasia and/or his progeny. She found it cocky and was yet another reason she wanted to turn around and drive as fast as possible back to Dallas. Yet she couldn't. She couldn't go back. She'd wreaked enough havoc on Godric's - now Isabel's - nest and she couldn't bear to be around people who didn't know Godric as she thought she did. There was only one person who did and that was one of two reasons why she was here.

She sighed as she looked around the bar. It had an adequate amount of people present - some human, some vampire - which didn't really match with the number of cars outside, but Sarah didn't ponder this for too long. Those surrounding the door looked at her as she walked in, silently questioning her choice of attire. She'd come straight from work, meaning she was still wearing a crisp white shirt, grey flared trousers and a grey blazer to match. Others present at the bar were wearing leather, black, PVC, more black and other outfits that Sarah thought looked like costumes. She looked around the place, searching for a "EMPLOYEES ONLY" door. She knew that was where he'd be. When she saw the sign at the opposite end of club, past a podium of sorts, she confidently walked straight past the bar and the stage and up the door. It was littered in cut outs from magazines and pictures, making it look almost like graffiti. She stood outside it for all of two seconds and then knocked twice - hard and purposefully.

She remained perfectly still as she waited for an invitation, and when it came in the form of a simple and sharp, "What?" she turned the doorknob without hesitation.

The office wasn't ostentatious, she noted to her pleasure. It was invariably simple, with a desk that looked messy, a bookcase behind it which held many books ranging from different eras. She tried to sneak a glimpse at them around his body, but he mainly blocked them, and she found he had a very demanding presence. You had to look at him. In the leather desk-chair was Godric's favorite child - Eric Northman. She'd seen pictures of him from Godric and heard may descriptions of the Viking vampire, but she felt like they all missed something out. Stood before him, she felt as though she was in the presence of Godric, yet she knew that he was nearly the complete opposite to him. Godric had told her many stories of the mischief the two got up to centuries ago, and the trouble it usually landed them in. Godric had evolved and had tuned into his humanity whereas Eric had not. He was the kind of person Sarah didn't have patience for: a vampire who thought they were invincible. Stan, a Texan vampire who resided in Godric's nest, was like this also. And she hated Stan.

Eric was busy. He needed to plan a strategy for conquering Sookie Stackhouse. At more than one point tonight, he'd actually thought of simply eliminating Bill from the equation, to hell with the consequences. The rational part of his brain, the part that had kept him alive for well over 1000 years, however, presided over the small, diabolical side. He knew that would have a disastrous aftermath. A sharp knock invaded his thoughts and he almost growled at the door. Not bothering to check who it was, he barked a, "What?" He assumed it would be Pam or Ginger. If he'd been alert, he'd have recognized that Pam wouldn't have been stupid enough to interrupt him, and Ginger was in another office with a young vampire in the realms of pleasure. Therefore he was surprised and slightly angered when an average human strode in like she owned the place. In a move that the human would never have noticed, he gave her the once over. She was pretty, he thought, for a human, but he'd seen better. She wasn't gracefully tall or daintily short, but a normal medium. Her hair was brown, only a few shades darker than her tanned skin, and straight as it hung down her back. Buried beneath her suit, he could tell she was toned and athletic, and that she had been bitten by a vampire before. Her eyes, although her most striking feature, were the same color as his and he was therefore not taken aback or pleasantly surprised, but rather he felt bored. If he was going to be interrupted, he thought, at least he could have been interrupted by someone…blonde, brown-eyed and feisty with the intention of yielding.

He noticed the girl take a look around his office with a small smile on her face. When her eyes settled on him, he made a move for her, getting up in a flash and pinning her against the wall with a hand wrapped around her slender throat. He could still feel the heat of the sun on her, but above that he could feel her jugular vein throbbing in time with her heartbeat and it was enough to bring out his fangs in anticipation. How dare this human interrupt his thoughts? She was nothing.

He could tell the woman was frightened from the way her heart hammered even more violently in her chest, but her face only gave slight indication of it. Her eyes conveyed her terror, yet her face remained almost…impassive. It was strange, Eric thought, since he was very close to killing the intruder.

"Why are you here?" He demanded in an irate tone, causing the girl to blink twice quickly. Eric was used to people giving him what he wanted at the first time of asking, mainly because they knew better, so he was slightly shaken when this girl only stared at him in shock and said nothing. Slightly miffed, he tightened his grip, causing the girl to choke slightly and making her eyes bulge.

"Why?" His voice was now a growl - first she disturbed him, then she didn't seem too terrified, then she ignored him. He would regret her death, he thought, since he would have liked to have some fun with this one. She may not be the most beautiful of woman, but she was still a woman. A small part of his brain reminded him that killing customers was not the way to attract more, but he was too far gone now. His anger had run away with him. It was something he needed to work on, he knew, and he had mastered a calm stoic facial expression when in the presence of others. Now he just needed to apply it when someone bothered him. He leaned in towards her neck, positioning himself right where she would taste the nicest, when the girl said the one thing that could have stopped him.

"Godric."

Her voice was throaty, whether from him choking her or because her voice was just like that, yet her words were crystal clear.

Hundreds of memories crashed into his mind from the places he'd locked them away. Their first meeting, awaking with him underground, learning all there was to learn about the way of the vampire, the numerous times they'd joined together to further increase their bond…his face faltered, he knew, and he hated this blood bag for making him lose his control. Nobody made Eric Northman hesitate.

"How dare you speak his name?" he hissed at her, more angry at himself than at her. He tightened his grip even further, causing the girl to start flapping about, trying uselessly to get him off her. It was hopeless. He was stronger, faster, more intelligent…better than her in all ways.

"He-" she spluttered, no longer being able to retrieve any amount of oxygen from the strength of his mighty grip. "He sent me!" She somewhat shouted the words at him, using the last of her breath. They both knew that she would be dead within twenty seconds maximum.

"Godric is gone." Eric was furious now; he only saw darkness in his eyesight. Only pain. Only suffering. Only revenge. Not only had this girl interrupted him, but she dared to suggest that she knew his maker. Godric would never surround himself with such a boring, meek, insolent human as this. That she even dared to utter his name required her immediate death.

The girl's eyes darted around his face wildly, searching for something that was no longer inside him, before she croaked, only in the tiniest of voices, "My pocket. Look in my pocket and take your hands off me." She looked at her pants and pleaded him with her eyes.

Later, Eric would not be able to describe what happened next. He only knew that he needed to look in her pocket, as it held all the answers. Her pocket was the only thing that mattered. It was essential. Immediately, he let go of her neck as she'd told him to, causing Sarah to fall to the ground and gasp for breath, coughing and spluttering. He followed her down to the floor, fumbling into her pocket. His fingers found a folded up sheet of paper. From what he could tell, it had been folded and unfolded many a time, as the paper was crinkled. He also could smell the scent of tears emanating off the paper. He had to open it. Everything depended upon it.

Sarah couldn't believe she'd almost died - again. At the hands of her only hope, no less. It wasn't comforting at all, knowing that the person you needed - albeit reluctantly - wanted you dead. She grasped her neck as she swallowed air frantically, trying to save up incase it happened again. She watched as Eric read the sheet of paper ardently, as though it was his whole world. His fingers grasped it firmly, determined not to let it get away, yet they didn't hold it so tight they would damage it. His face was straight as he read the letter at vampire speed. As he reached the end, he let the sheet waft down to where she lay, sprawled out uncomfortably. As soon as it reached the floor, his eyes refocused on her, and the anger was back.

"What did you do, witch?" He growled, his fangs still out. It was intimidating, Sarah would freely admit, but she'd seen it before many a time. She kept her breathing constant and deep, trying to regulate her erratic heartbeat. It thudded inside her chest like a lion in a cage, ceaseless and strong. It made Eric's mouth water slightly, but he was far too angered to think straight.

"I'm not a witch," she breathed, still slightly shell-shocked that she'd been seconds away from death once again. It seemed that she was destined to die young with all the attempts that had been made on her life recently. Yet she knew that, if offered the chance, she would not undo any of it. Her time with Godric had been wonderful and she would not regret it.

"Oh, really?" he snarled sarcastically, reaching to grab her. She didn't flinch, despite the fact that she wanted to, as she knew he wouldn't be able to reach her. Sure enough, when his hand got within in a foot of her, it hit some form of invisible barrier. It wasn't like invisible glass, exactly, it was more of a feeling. As though he didn't want to touch her. She saw his face twist in confusion, to disbelief, and then revert back to the anger that she was sure was going to kill her.

The…"magic," or whatever the hell it was, would wear off soon and she knew he wouldn't waste time killing her. She needed to talk.

"I swear to you that I'm not a witch. I don't know what the hell I am, but I know that I'm not a witch. The reason why I know is that Godric told me I wasn't. He was adamant that I was not a witch. What I am is…persuasive." Her voice took on the bitter tone it usually did when discussing her freaky ability and Eric was somewhat surprised to hear just how bitter she really was.

His dead heart had constricted at the mention of his maker once more. His head filled with various ways to kill this girl, many of these fantasies including decapitation, but something about her made him stop. Besides, the "feeling" was still there and he couldn't reach her yet. He decided to let her continue instead of calling Pam to kill her for him.

"I'm sorry for intruding, but…" At this point she sighed, as though she hated admitting something to herself. "But you're my only chance of survival. I'm not the sort of person to ask anyone for help, but…I need you."

Thank you for reading.