On a Lonely Night

Chapter 1: On a Lonely Night

(Disclaimer: These wonderful characters belong to Charlaine Harris!)

SPOV

I felt a little wild, driving around Shreveport on a Saturday night, with no place in particular as my destination. I felt kind of like an adventurous girl in a movie, who drives nowhere just because she could. Sadly, my feelings of adventure were dampened by sadness when I thought about why I was currently driving further away from Bon Temps.

Bill.

You see, tonight Bill was getting married. That made me sad and angry for a couple of different reasons. First, Bill was my ex-boyfriend, and, actually, my only ex-boyfriend at that. My first love, my first lover, and the person that I planned on spending the rest of my life with. Those plans went right out the window when I found out he'd been cheating on me. Which brings me to my second reason for being upset: he was marrying Lorena, the very woman that Bill had been cheating on me with. She was also his ex-girlfriend, one he hadn't told me about. I guess I knew why, now. I found out he'd been seeing her for quite some time during out three year relationship. On weekends when he said he was travelling for business, he was really going to see Lorena in Seattle. Bill had not only cheated on me, but he had lied to me about a lot. So it's not like I was pining for him, or planning on getting back together with him; that's not at all why the thought of him getting married upset me. I just turned twenty-five, which meant that a lot of couples in my small town were getting married and having babies, if they hadn't already. And because of Bill I wouldn't have that for a long, long time – not to mention with extra baggage. But Bill got to have that. Bill got to have a huge, fancy wedding to which all of my friends were invited to. Except me, of course. I guess exes don't get invited to weddings. My friends didn't really want to go to the wedding, because they were team Sookie, but I knew it would be a huge event in Bon Temps since Bill came from old money. I told them to go and have fun. I would be okay.

I pulled into a parking lot before I started to cry. I let myself shed a few tears, and then decided that I deserved to have myself a little pity party tonight. Then, starting tomorrow, I would not give Bill another thought. Never again. I was on my own so I wouldn't have to worry about Amelia or Tara giving me crap for 'not being over' Bill, even though I was. I just wasn't over feeling humiliated and lonely.

I had pulled into a parking lot near a Toys R Us, but there was an awful lot of people in the parking lot, considering it was a Saturday night and the store was closed. But then I noticed that there was actually at the other end of the mall. It was called Fantasia. The door was black and I could see a red neon sign with the bar name on it. For some reason, I felt pulled towards it. It looked fun, which was something I hadn't had much of lately. But was I brave enough to walk into a bar by myself? Would I look like a loser? Oh, what the hell. I could just go in, have a quick drink, and take a look around? Maybe I'd find a new hang-out place to show Amelia, something different from Merlotte's. I was very relieved that I'd thrown on my red and white sundress today, instead of sweatpants or something. I didn't look fancy, but I figured that a dress was a dress. I dug through my purse looking for some eyeliner or something, since I hadn't put any makeup on. I pulled out a tube of light pink lip-gloss and some mascara, and quickly applied them. I looked fine, and it wasn't like I wore that much makeup when I went out anyways. I felt a little bit weird at the prospect of going to a bar all by myself, since I didn't really frequent them in the first place. Merlotte's didn't count, since I had worked there for most of my teenage life. But tonight, it felt like a night for change. I took a deep breath and got out of the car.

Fantasia really was very cool. Everything was decorated in black and red, and there was a dance floor and there were people dancing, but it wasn't all crowded and gross like the few clubs I'd been to before. I looked around, and wondered if I should sit at a table. I glanced at the bar, and noticed a girl was getting up from her stool. Score! I sat myself up at the sleek, black bar, and felt my phone vibrate in my purse. I had a text from Amelia.

Sook, u ok?

I sighed. I had just sent her a quick reply, telling that I was fine, when I heard it.

"What can I get you, sweetheart?" a deep voice asked suggestively. I was just about to ask just exactly who he was calling sweetheart when I looked up at the source of the voice. My words died in my throat. Oh, good lord. He was gorgeous. Beyond gorgeous; he was tall and fit, with piercing blue eyes and blonde hair. He wore a sexy smirk on his face, and a tight black v-neck on his chest. Oh my.

"Um, I'll have a gin and tonic please," I replied politely. I felt my cheeks flush. I'd never seen such a handsome man, never mind talked to one! His smirk grew more pronounced, telling me that he probably knew the source of my blush. When he put the drink in front of me, I thanked him with a smile and gave him his money.

"Well aren't you sweet?" he asked, looking at me with amusement.

"Not really," I replied quietly. I blushed again. Dammit! He let out a deep chuckle, and the sight of a genuine smile on his perfect face took my breath away. Oh well, if nothing else interesting happened tonight, at least I would be able to tell Amelia that I made a sexy bartender laugh; Ames would appreciate that. I watched him walk away to go serve another customer, and noticed his butt was perfect too.

I sipped on my drink and just watched people for I don't know how long. I watched as girls in tiny outfits hung over men who were clearly not interested in them. I watched as smarmy guys hit on girls who were clearly not interested in them either. There were a few couples that I could see really flirting with each other, off of the dance floor of course. I wasn't brave enough to dance in a bar by myself, that's for sure. I politely declined a request to dance, offered by a hairy, sweaty guy who stood way too too close to me.

Most people just looked kind of desperate to me. Was this my future, whenever I felt I was ready to date again? Just wait to be preyed upon at a bar? I really, really hoped not.

"Is he late?" a voice asked from behind me. I turned back around and was face to face with the sexy bartender again.

"Is who late?"

"Your boyfriend? Or your date, or whatever?"

"Oh, I, um… I'm not here on a date," I said. I wondered if the alcohol was kicking in, because I managed not to blush. Go, Sookie!

"Ah," he smirked, "girl's night, then?"

"Nope," I smiled.

"Hmmm," he furrowed his brows as if he was thinking very hard. "Looking for a sugar Daddy? Because I think you're at the wrong bar for that," he teased.

I giggled. Was he flirting with me? Or did he just feel bad for me, sitting here by myself and not making any effort to talk to anyone?

"No," I replied, the smile starting to fall from my face, "I'm here to do that whole 'drink your problems away' thing."

"Really?" he asked, looking skeptical, and I nodded. "Well then, sweetheart, I think you're gonna need something a little bit stronger than a gin and tonic." He got out a shot glass and pour a clear looking liquid into it, and placed it in front of me with salt and a lime.

"What's this?" I asked.

"Tequila."

"You want me to do a shot of tequila? Shouldn't I not be mixing alcohol?" I didn't think I'd ever had tequila before, probably because I'd heard all of the horror stories about my brother Jason's experiences with it.

"It's just one shot, it won't kill you," he shrugged.

"You're a horrible bartender," I laughed. He grinned at me.

"Do I have to use the salt and the lime, or whatever? Can't I just take the shot?" I asked.

"It doesn't really matter how you do it," he laughed, "as long as you do."

"Okay," I said. I raised the glass in the air and said, "to Bill and Lorena!"

I knew he wouldn't get my joke, but that didn't really matter to me at the moment. I quickly brought the glass to my lips and swallowed the shot of tequila. It didn't go down very smoothly, it burned a little, but it didn't taste so bad. I slammed the glass back down proudly.

"You know," he smiled, "if you wanted to tell me about your problems, I'd be happy to listen. Bartenders are pretty much therapists, after all."

"That's not just in the movies?" I smiled.

"Nope," he grinned at me.

I snickered. "It's just that," I said, trying to put my thoughts together, "I don't really want to dwell on it, you know?"

He nodded and said, "Yeah, but venting doesn't really mean dwelling. And plus, I'm an objective outsider. Have you talked about your shit with one of those?"

I wasn't really sure why he was so interested in my problems. Was this a game for bartenders or something?

"Well the short version," I began, "is that my ex is getting married tonight. Well he did, I guess," I looked at the time.

"Ah. And you're still in love with him?"

"Oh sweet Jesus no," I shook my head, "I'm really not. He cheated on me and he lied to me. I just… I don't know." I was having a hard time articulating what I was feeling.

"He's happy right now, and you're not?" He asked, leaning towards me.

"Maybe that's it."

"You will be," he said quietly, and for a moment his eyes were really intense, burning into mine. I looked down at my hands, which were clasped together. The bartender turned around for a second, and placed another drink in front of me.

"Gin and tonic?" he asked.

"Thanks," I smiled.

"Eric," a woman's voice called. The bartender looked over at her. She was beautiful, with pale blonde hair, and wore a tight black pencil skirt, black blouse, and the highest heels I'd ever seen a woman wear out of fashion magazines. She tilted her head at him, and he nodded.

"Excuse me," he smirked at me, and then left to follow the woman into some sort of office, I imagined.

So, the sexy bartender's name was Eric. Eric the Sexy Bartender. There was a pretty big chance that he would feature in some of my fantasies. Or all of them.

Another man took Eric's place behind the bar, but he wasn't nearly as good-looking as Eric. He had long dark hair, and lots of tattoos on his arms. I guessed he was Native American.

I sighed. Part of me was disappointed that Eric left, because I was kind of enjoying our banter. The more rational side of me, however, chastised the part of me that was hopeful that he wasn't actually treating me like he would any other sad looking girl sitting in front of him at the bar. I knew I wasn't hideous or anything, but I certainly wasn't in Eric's league. I doubted there were many women that were.

I returned to my people watching. I noticed how much drunker people seemed now than before. I giggled to myself, knowing that I was a bit drunker too.

Just as I finished my second gin and tonic of the night, a large muscular man sat on the recently empty stool beside me.

"Hey," he said, flashing me a smile that seemed like a lame imitation of Eric's.

"Hello," I replied politely. He looked down at my empty glass.

"Can I get you another drink, babe?"

Babe?! I looked at the guy. He was huge, bald, and had weird purple-y eyes. I gave him a polite smile.

"Oh, um, you don't have to do that…"

"Quinn," he supplied his name.

"Quinn. You don't have to do that. Thank you, though."

"I insist, babe. You look like you could use some company."

Well I wasn't going to argue with him on that one, but I was willing to bet that my idea of 'company' and his were probably pretty different. But I was at a bar, wasn't I? Maybe this Quinn guy would be sweet and we could have a nice conversation. I told him I was drinking a gin and tonic, and he signaled at the bartender to get me another. I thanked him when he placed the glass in front of me.

Quinn asked me all the generic questions; where I'm from, what I do. I told him I was born and raised in Bon Temps, and that I taught the third grade at Bon Temps elementary school. He told me he worked at a gym part time, and did part time event planning. During our talk, Quinn moved closer and closer to me, and was really staring at me. I started to feel a bit uncomfortable. Creeper alert!

"So, babe, do you wanna dance?" he asked with a leer.

"Oh, no thanks," I tried to smile at him politely.

"Come on babe, it'll be fun," he started to run his hands down my arm. I felt like I was going to puke, partly from his inappropriate touching, and partly from having my third drink.

"No, Quinn, really," I attempted to back away from him. But then his hand clasped my arm, and he started to pull me with him as he stood up. Oh my god, was he going to try and literally drag me to the dance floor? I started to panic internally a bit.

That was until a figure approached and took Quinn's hands off of me. It was Eric.

"Quinn, can you please not fucking manhandle my customers?"

Quinn looked pissed. "Eric this is none of your goddamn business," he all but snarled.

"You know that it is," Eric retorted. "Do you want me to get security to throw you out on your fucking ass?"

Quinn huffed and shot me a dirty look, but he did walk away.

"Thank you," I breathed, rubbing my arm where Quinn had grabbed me. His eyes travelled to where I was rubbing.

"Are you okay? Did he hurt you?"

"Oh no, I'm fine," I said shakily. "And it's not like I'm morally opposed to dancing or anything. But he was already giving me the creeps and all we were doing was talking. I didn't really feel like…"

"You don't have to explain it to me," Eric smiled, "Quinn is a douchebag. He thinks that harassing girls is some kind of flirting strategy."

"What a charmer," I said dryly.

Eric sat down at the stool Quinn had vacated, and I sat down at my spot. He made some kind of signal at the bartender, and he quickly brought another gin and tonic for me and a beer for Eric.

"Are you on your break, or something?" I asked.

"I'm done as bartender for the night."

"Oh," I replied, and took a long sip of my drink to try and hide the stupid grin that had creeped up on my face.

"Yep, so now I'm free to help you drink all your problems away," he teased. "Eric Northman, at your service."

"Nice to meet you. I'm Sookie Stackhouse," I giggled, extending my hand to him. His giant hand swallowed mine as he shook it.

"So, Sookie," he leaned in a bit closer to me, but not so close that it made me uncomfortable, "would you like some more tequila?"

We spent the rest of the night drinking and talking. I told him about Bill and Lorena, about how I'd found out about their affair. I'd accidentally stumbled upon some e-mails when I'd used Bill's computer to check my own. I'd been devastated to find out that they'd had sex, that they'd had sex quite regularly actually, but there was other hurtful information in them too. When Lorena had asked when Bill was going to dump me, he said that he wasn't sure – he'd only dated me for the 'chase' at the beginning, knowing that I was so inexperienced presented him with a challenge in all of my "wholesomeness", and he eventually had developed 'real' feelings for me. That meant that the first time we made love, the first time I'd ever made love, he didn't actually care about me; he was winning a prize or something. I didn't tell Eric I was a virgin of course, but he still understood why I was angry: Bill had used me, he had lied to me about his feelings for me so I'd sleep with him. Maybe he developed feelings at some point along the way, but he still betrayed me. Eric interrupted me at all the right times, calling Bill an asshole and a fucking twat.

Eventually we did stop talking about Bill. We talked about random things, like TV and movies. He talked about his love of CSI-type shows, and I told him how obsessed I was with the food network. He told me funny stories about working at Fantasia, and pointed out all the weird 'regulars' he recognized. One man, Eddie, reminded me a bit of a man version of Jane Bodehouse, a regular at Merlotte's, and it made me laugh uncontrollably. I contrasted his stories with my 'adventures' at Merlotte's, where the biggest commotion I had ever witnessed was a rowdy redneck who was impatient for another pitcher of beer or a squeeze of my butt.

Eric didn't really talk much about his personal life, which I suppose I understood. I was a customer, after all, and even if his shift was over I could understand he didn't want his business spread around his workplace. I just appreciated that he was even talking to me. At all.

He really was gorgeous…

I had never been a big drinker, and alcohol had always made me sleepy, so it wasn't much of a surprise when my eyelids started feeling a bit heavy. Even though I was really, really enjoying spending time with my sexy bartender, I mean Eric, I was ready to go home and crawl into my comfy bed. I didn't even know what time it was.

"Sookie?" I heard him ask, as he brushed a strand of hair off my face.

"Mhmm?" I replied with a smile. I liked his fingers on my cheek.

"Would you like me to call you a cab?" He chuckled

"Ye-es please," I answered with a little bit of a yawn. I probably would have blushed if I wasn't so sleepy.

The last thing I remembered was being snuggled up on a black leather couch, a fleece blanket wrapped around me, and being at the perfect angle to ogle Eric's butt as he walked away.

My Sexy Bartender.

A/N: Okay, so this was my first attempt at fanfiction. I hope it was okay! If anyone has read this, please let me know what you thought! :)