A/N: This bittersweet little story in six chapters is dedicated to some of my awesome reviewers who've been incredibly supportive over the last few days - in name order, Duckbutt, Mistress Jess, Perfecta999, and rsmmschi. Thank you for the kindness of the words you've sent me in PMs (as well as your reviews!) - it has made the world of difference.

At the end of each chapter, I've acknowledged which play, act, scene, and character my Shakespeare inspiration has come from.

Such stuff as dreams are made on

"Are you sure there's nothing you'd like to try?" asked Eric contemplatively, as he lay looking down at me, propped up on an elbow. "You know I am comfortable with…" he shrugged, "pretty much anything, so long as it makes you happy."

I wriggled uncomfortably. "You make yourself sound like some sort of sex slave," I grumbled.

He raised an eyebrow. "I'd do that for you, if you wanted me to."

I shuddered. "No, thanks."

He smiled. "No? Why not? I wouldn't mind, O Mistress Mine."

I pulled a face at him, though the words felt vaguely familiar, as though they were something he'd taken out of context and used just to tease me. I couldn't place them, and I knew it would drive me mad, but asking Eric would probably just lead to a world of trouble. "I just… I don't know, I don't think I'd be comfortable with that," I said finally.

"Really? The amount you boss me around the rest of the time, I'd have thought it would be just up your street," he said teasingly.

I gave him a light swat on his arm. "Idiot," I said affectionately. "I don't boss you around." Much, I added mentally.

He fluttered his eyelashes at me. "Have I been a bad boy? Are you going to punish me?"

I shoved good-naturedly at his shoulder – it didn't make a blind bit of difference, of course; he was rock-solid, and it could never budge him. "Stop it," I giggled.

He chuckled, and snuggled me lazily into his arms. "The offer's always there. Like I said, I wouldn't mind."

"I know, but I don't think I… want to do that," I said hesitantly. "It would just feel weird. I mean… you're about a hundred or more times stronger than me, and…" I shrugged, tailing off.

"Precisely why some people would like the idea," he laughed. "But you are such a study in contrasts. Which is no bad thing," he added hastily. "I like the fact that you do what is least expected. It makes life interesting, fun." He sprawled inelegantly, but comfortably, over most of the bed, and pulled me closer. "But you don't like the idea, so we won't try it. There are many more things we can do, after all." He gave me a coaxing smile. "But is there something else you'd like to try? Any fantasies you have that you haven't told me about, that we haven't tried?"

I grinned. "Waking up to find myself with a really hot, rich man who loves nothing more than to make love to me all night long and would do anything for me? Oh, wait; done that one," I teased him.

He laughed, and tickled me gently. "Other than that one, or any of the others we've worked through. Isn't there anything else? Something you've read, perhaps, in one of your romance novels, that you were curious to try?"

"I can't think of anything off-hand," I said. "You've never told me any of your fantasies, though," I added archly. "Maybe there's something in there?"

He was silent for a long while. "Do you still have that white dress? The one with red flowers on?" he asked eventually.

Well, colour me confused. "The one I wore to Fangtasia, that first time?" I asked, perplexed.

"Mm-hmm. That one." I spied a hint of fang as he remembered it.

"Yes, why?" Did he really like the dress that much?

He shot me a sidelong look. "Promise me you won't laugh?"

"Um, sure."

"I want to take you on a date. You know, like normal human people do."

I bit the inside of my cheek, hard, and swallowed my giggles; Eric didn't do the normal, human thing; he was all about how great vampires were, and he hadn't been human for about a millennium. "Right. Okay. We could do that."

"You said you wouldn't laugh!" he said accusingly.

"I didn't laugh!" I said, eyes wide. "See, no laughing, no laughing at all."

"I could feel you trying not to giggle through the bond," he huffed.

I got a grip on myself; it was unfair of me to laugh, given that he'd been very good about all of the fantasies I'd come up with, most of which must have seemed very dull and pedestrian after a thousand years of 'seen that; done that'; he'd never once made me feel as though any of them were silly or strange, but had good-naturedly gone along with them all. "Sorry. Okay. You want me to wear that dress, and go on a date with you?"

"Yes," he said defensively.

I shrugged. "Sure, okay. Are you going to do the whole asking for my phone number bit, or… I mean, is this a first date, or a second date, or…?"

"I think it's a third or fourth date, maybe?" he hazarded. "Still early on." He gave me a slightly sly look. "Blossoming romance."

"You're getting soft in your old age," I smiled, but if I was honest, I was rather touched, and liked the idea. "Okay, so when are we going on this date?"

"Tomorrow night?" he asked hopefully. I nodded. He sat up in bed, and cleared his throat. "Are you free tomorrow night, Sookie? I have tickets for the theatre, to see Twelfth Night; I wondered if you'd be able to join me."

I couldn't help but giggle a little, but nodded. "Oh, that sounds lovely! Yes, I'm free tomorrow night."

"Great. I'll pick you up at seven."

I smiled as he lay back down, tugging me back into his arms. "Do you really have tickets for Twelfth Night?" I asked curiously.

"Mm. I was intending just to turn up on your doorstep, demand you change, and whisk you off, but since you asked…" he grinned. "I thought this would be even better."

I tumbled to what had been nagging away at the back of my mind. "That's where 'O Mistress Mine' comes from, isn't it? Twelfth Night, I mean," I realised. I'd had to study it at school, and I vaguely remembered the clown's song.

He gave me a sheepish look. "Yes; actually, that's what brought it to mind." He shrugged. "I saw the flyer, and remembered you saying you'd read it when you were at school, but had never seen it in production. And I thought…" he gave me a self-conscious smile, "it would be fun to play at being just a normal couple." He had a good memory; I didn't remember telling him that, but I guess I must have mentioned it in passing. He remembered even the tiniest details about me. "Anyway, I've been hoping you'd come up with the idea yourself rather than make me admit to it, but as you didn't…" he shrugged again, "well, here we are, going on a date to the theatre."

I rolled my eyes. "Ass," I said. But there was a little melty bit in my heart that made me reach out and run my fingers through his hair.

He looked up at me from under his eyelashes. "But you like my ass," he pouted. He flipped onto his front, and looked up at me, trying to look coy. "All pert and tight and begging to be patted."

I laughed, and gave it a gentle pat and a squeeze. "It deserves the attention," I agreed, and kissed him.

A/N: The chapter title is from The Tempest, Act Four Scene I, spoken by Prospero to Ferdinand.

The provenance of 'O Mistress Mine' is dealt more fully in the next chapter.