Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters. They belong to the one and only Charlaine Harris, to whom I thank profusely for creating such amazing and fun characters for me to dress up and play with.

A/N: First of all, I want to thank you guys for the amazing support on my one-shot, for taking your time to read, review and add me and my story to favorites and alerts. If I forgot to reply to you, or you were anonymous, please know how much I appreciated the gesture. Thank you all so, so much!

As promised, here you have my very first AH fic. I hope you like!

Once again, my eternal gratitute goes to the wonderful Sunkisz, beta extraordinaire. Go check her stories, they're awesome!

Any remaining mistakes, you can blame them on me.

Now that the A/N is done . . . enjoy!

I'll meet you all at the end.

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1. Life is a Highway

I finished packing the last bag into the trunk of my old Nova as the sun started to rise. Leaning against my car, I watched the light shine across the window, and marveled how the shine on the glass was different from any others.

This is it, I thought to myself, this is goodbye.

I had spent most of my childhood as well as all of my adult life, at least until now, in this apartment.

I moved in here to live with my Gran after my parents died in a car accident when I was seven. The house we had was too expensive to maintain, so my grandmother decided to sell it, and I came to live with her in her apartment in New Orleans center.

The apartment had two rooms, a complete bathroom and a kitchen that also worked as a living room. It might have been small, according to some people, but to us was just perfect.

The balcony in the living room had a great view over Bourbon street, and every year during Mardi Gras we would perch ourselves in it, enjoying the parade, giggling and gossiping about the costumes and the people.

Those were great times, I thought to myself, as I wiped away the tear that slid down my cheek.

Almost two years had passed since her death, but the tears still fell freely when I thought about her.

It pained me to leave the place that brought me such good memories, but I could no longer take living like this. Thinking about what had happened in the last three months made a cold shiver descend down my spine.

"Not anymore," I said firmly to myself, "Enough is enough."

I lived alone for about a year after her death, and it was driving me insane. My life was divided between the dance classes I taught at a local school and the apartment.

I didn't go out with friends, I didn't date. I only felt like staying at home.

The only other times I stepped into the street were either to go to the grocery store or the library, where I went frequently to drop off and pick up books to read at home.

Ms. Daphne, the librarian, a small woman in her fifties, knew me well from my frequent visits and from being an old friend of Gran. Every other week she would put aside a pile of recently arrived books, that she new to be my favorite genre. I didn't know how she knew, but she always did, and I knew that was her way of looking out for me, in memory of Gran.

I will miss Ms. Daphne, I thought.

I would take those books home with me, sit at the couch and read for hours. Before her death, I loved seating myself at the balcony reading, enjoying the warmth of the sun in my skin, but after I couldn't stand being there. It reminded me to much of Gran.

It was surrounded by beautiful iron bars with lovely carvings, painted in a wood green shade that Gran loved. The area was decorated with vases along its length, where her favorite flowers grew - freesias, roses, violets…

She loved the perfume that emanated from them and filled the house at night.

That sweet smell was always heightened during Mardi Gras, I still don't know why, but that was one of the reasons she loved being at the balcony in those nights.

I tried sitting out there during Mardi Gras the following year after her death, and I actually managed it. Well, at least for a minute or two, until that perfume hit me with all its strength, making me cry as hard as I've ever did for her.

That night I decided to get drunk with the rest of the people out there celebrating, so I could forget about the pain her absence caused me.

I'm not much of a drinker, but that night I need it bad, and so I went down to the bar under the apartment and drowned my sorrows in a pool of tequila.

If I could pinpoint a moment or decision and take it back, that was it.

That was the decision that changed my life for good, but definitely not for better.

That was the night I met Quinn.

I was shook out of my reverie when I heard my cell phone ring. I grabbed it and checked who was calling. Amelia, it read.

I picked it up and was immediately caught in a wave of silly giddiness.

"Hi, roomie!" Amelia shrieked "How's the packing going?"

"Done. Just doing a mental double check and saying my goodbyes, then on my way," I replied happily.

"Great!" Amelia responded. "Then I guess I'll see you real soon. Give me a call when you get to Shreveport, you hear me?"

"Ok. See you soon, sweetie!"

"Travel safe, Sookie. See ya," she replied and hung up.

I closed the phone and went to deliver the key to the landlord. I got myself in the car, started it, and turned on the music.

Tom Cochrane was singing "Life Is A Highway" and I thought to myself how appropriate that sound right now.

"Shreveport, here I come!" I said out loud, and drove off into the rising sun.

TBC…

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Ok, I know this might have been a small one, but do not worry. As our dear TB Eric would say, this is (just) the beginning. ;-)

If you want, let me know what you think by pressing that green button at the end.

*viking kisses*

Sofia