What if instead of drowning, Corbett Stackhouse was turned into a vampire? What if Michelle Stackhouse was never in the car?

Rated M for later chapters.

A/N: My first fic, please be gentle.

Disclaimer: Charlaine Harris and Alan Ball owns them all.

Chapter 1

1986

PPOV

Fucking fairies. I couldn't believe I fell for Eric's shit. Again. And to think I actually flew commercial from Minnesota. I even spent the trip plotting how best to capture one without draining it so I could share with him. Sometimes I forgot just how much of a major dipstick my maker could be when he was bored. I should've known better than to think there'd be any fairies in this backwater town. Good Times my baroque print, Versace clad ass. The only thing that could've possibly made this night any worse was to see the smirk on Eric's smug face when I showed up with my black suede and rhinestone Stuart Weitzman pumps covered in mud. Which they were.

I looked down sadly at my now destroyed shoes and kicked them angrily into the woods before getting back into the station wagon to begin the drive back to Eric's in Shreveport. Distracted from rewinding the cassette tape back to the beginning of Cyndi Lauper's True Colors, I almost drove off the destroyed bridge. Quickly, I swerved to the left and missed going over by mere inches.

"This is so totally unfair!" I whined after realizing I'd have to run the rest of the way back to Eric's shoeless. The bridge was the only way out of Bon Temps.

With a sigh, I climbed out of the car. Morbid curiosity made me hesitate and look over the edge but fuck if I know what compelled me to dive into the water and pull the tiny human out of the car. After getting her safely on land, I performed CPR and, within minutes, she was coughing up water.

"Good, you're not dead." I said as I prepared to take off for my maker's. I did not want to stay and endure the human's grief and hysterics.

Instead of tears, she surprised me by staring wide eyed at me and rasping, "Please save my daddy too."

Now, contrary to what the evidence might say at this point in time, I did not make a habit out of rescuing breathers. I rarely looked twice at them, if at all. They were good for three things - feeding, fucking, and fashion. But there was just something about the little human that - Okay, fine, when I was rescuing the child, I glanced at the front seat and noticed the male that must have been her father. And he was wicked hot. Late twenties, early thirties. Gorgeous cheekbones and blonde hair that rivaled my maker's. And that bod.. Ooh that bod and with that tan.. I knew right then and there that if he was still alive, he'd be going back to Minnesota with me daughter be damned.

I pulled the driver's side door off it's hinges, hugged my arms around the unconscious human's waist, and propelled us upwards. It wasn't until we were back on land that I'd inadvertently taken my first breath since jumping into the water. A haze crept over my vision and my eyes glazed over. I quickly lost the battle for control over my mind and body with my instincts, and everything went blank.

By the time I realized what I was doing, I had already nearly drained the male fairy. Eric must have felt my euphoria because I sensed him getting closer through our maker-child bond. And now the tiny human, and I was certain she was human, was crying.

"Stop." I commanded.

She continued leaking.

I pushed more of my will into the command and tried again. "Do not cry. Everything's going to be alright. Your father's fine."

She perked up at the last bit. Tilting her head to the side, she rubbed her eyes and wiped her snot on the back of her hand.

"Daddy's not dead? But I can't hear him anymore", she said hoarsely.

Fuck, fuck, fuckaduck she couldn't be glamoured. I looked at the male fairy. I couldn't detect a pulse, but he also wasn't a pile of glittery mess. That could either mean he was still alive or that he was only a hybrid and truly dead. Seeing as how the midget could clearly pass for a human, and let's not forget my unbelievably bad luck tonight, the latter was most likely true.

I cleared my throat unnecessarily and hedged, "Maybe?"

Her lips quivered and her eyes filled with tears.

In the split second before she began leaking again, I quickly weighed my options: Eric would have a cow if I left a witness but he'd shit kittens if I drained a child, hybrid or not. With time running out before we were discovered, I did the only thing I could think of that would let me get off scot free with my maker.

I grabbed both father and daughter, and threw them back over the bridge.