A/N: One of my first Sookie Stackhouse stories was extremely popular. It's called Dead from the Waist Down. However, I've always wanted to re-write it, to see if I could make it better. This is an attempt to do just that. I hope that this story is scarier, more intimidating, and more descriptive. Once again, this story includes sexual violence and may be a trigger for survivors of sexual violence. Because this is a re-write, it is NOT the exact same story as the original. Much of it has been changed. Only the base plot remains the same. So, if you read DftWD and liked it, I suggest you read this one as well!


From the Waist Down

Chapter 1

He walked into the bar and looked around, his eyes drifting from one table to the next. It was Saturday, the busiest night at Merlotte's Bar and Grill at the edge of Bon Temps. My section was packed, but the vampire managed to find a lonely booth toward the corner, underneath a television broadcasting the LSU football game. There were men and women in a huge semi-circle seated around the set, pitching their hands in the air when the team scored, groaning with disgust when the other team scored. No one seemed to notice Eric Northman, vampire and Sheriff of Area Five, seated underneath the television, his deep azure eyes pointed right at me.

I carried pitchers of Pabst Blue Ribbon, our special on tap, to all of the tables whining about the referee, brought a bucket of hot wings to a banquet sized gathering of LSU alumni, and finally made my way to the tow-headed man in the corner. He nodded at me; a slight tilt of his head that I knew meant so much more than a silent acceptance of my service. He ordered a bottle of synthetic blood that would go untouched. I didn't bother heating it in the microwave. He would want to save his hunger for our meeting after work.

Eric Northman was responsible for my protection, and that was fairly common knowledge. He'd been bestowed upon me as a service by the King of Nevada and Louisiana, primarily as a way to keep a mind reader safe from harm. Of course, since the guard had changed, my relationship with a certain Viking vampire had gone undercover. No one knew we were seeing one another, sleeping with one another. No one knew that Eric Northman spent at least three nights a week in my bed, until a few hours before dawn.

I watched him as I walked from one table to the next, slinging beers and serving fried chicken strip baskets and hamburgers. At the bar, Sam was on duty, thoroughly enjoying the crazy atmosphere. He shot only one look at Eric, one disturbed, gruesome look. My boss, Sam Merlotte, wasn't too crazy about the number of vampires in my life. Sure, it wasn't any of his business, but that didn't really seem to stop him. I pushed Sam out of my brain and returned my thoughts to Eric. The Viking. My Viking.

Stop, Sookie, I thought. That's not your Viking. That's Eric Northman, Sheriff of Area Five, owner of a vampire bar in Shreveport, slightly annoying, grouchy, and perfectly capable of turning you into a pile of orgasmic jelly. I paused, right in mid-step, and giggled. I'd last seen him on Thursday night, when he'd shoved me up against the kitchen counter and rocked me so hard that I'd smacked my head on the microwave, giggled maniacally, and taken a nip of blood from his jugular. Words couldn't accurately describe the kind of fun we'd had that night.

"Hey! Sookie! Can I get that beer?" Hoyt Fortenberry yelled me over, dragging me out of my sex-induced daze. I carried a pitcher over to his table, also occupied by my brother, Jason, and a few of the other guys from the Bon Temps Road Crew. I brought them a bowl of peanuts as well and daintily dropped both objects onto the damp wooden table top. There was a roar from the LSU alumni table. The team had scored again.

The bar didn't calm down until about ten minutes after last call. I helped Sam wipe down the tables while Arlene cleaned up dishes and swept the floors. We were out at a little past two, and I stepped under the security lamp with Sam while he locked the back door.

"Goodnight, Sook, drive safe." Sam nodded to me and walked to his trailer. He went inside and shut the door behind him. Out of the darkness, Eric emerged. He held an elbow out to me, smiling in a completely innocent of all sexual impulses sort of way.

"May I escort you to your car, Miss Stackhouse?"

"Can't be too careful out here," I murmured, keeping up our charade. I took his arm and we walked across the gravel under the bright beam of the parking lot light. I climbed into the driver's seat, and Eric slipped into the passenger side. His own car was nowhere to be seen, and I gathered he must have flown to Bon Temps from Shreveport.

Hidden inside the car, Eric leaned over and brushed his fingers against my chin. I swooned, completely drawn into him by my own lust. I wanted him, right then and there, across the car seat. I didn't think I could wait until we got back to the old farmhouse. Still, I put the car into gear and peeled out. The Viking stroked my thigh as we drove, his hand dipping between my legs as we drove down the gravel driveway and parked in front of the back porch. I was trembling by the time we reached the porch steps, and inside the house, I pushed him into the wall and kissed him hard. My tongue swirled over his while my arms wrapped around his neck.

"Sookie," Eric growled against my ear lobe when I'd torn my kiss away. He dug his hands underneath my work shirt and pulled it over my head. His hungry mouth dove between my breasts, yanking at the blue polka dot bra I'd worn that day. He turned us around so that I was against the wall, my shoulder blades smacking hard against it. We were rough, as though we hadn't seen each other in months. I scrambled with the button on his jeans and released his gracious plenty, as though I were unwrapping a bar of succulent dark chocolate. He was inside me in seconds, slamming me against the wall until the ceiling fan shook with our violence.

"Eric," I groaned, unable to contain my pleasure any longer.

Still poised on his hips, his hands underneath me for support, Eric carried me to the bedroom. He tossed me on the bed and threw off the remainder of his clothes. I watched him undress in awe. My Viking was the most beautiful man I had ever seen or known. I inhaled the scent of his cologne, just a drop of it at the dip in his collarbone. He knelt over me, taking time to suckle at my breasts, to graze his fangs along my hip, to bury himself between my thighs. I curled my fingers into his hair and squirmed with delight. I returned the favor. I relished it.

After two hours of nonstop copulating, I had to stop and breathe. Eric tucked me into his chest, his bicep underneath my head like a pillow. I tickled my fingers idly on his cool skin, admiring the pristine beauty of his form. His whole body rumbled when he spoke, and it sent shivers through my skin.

"I have some bad news," he murmured. His hand twisted through my hair. "Pam and I have been summoned away to New Orleans on an errand for the King. We'll be away for a week."

"A week?" I felt a pang of sadness in my heart. That would be at least three nights away from him. I could barely stand to think about it.

"I'll have Bill watching the house, and Sam keeping an eye on you at work. I am worried about leaving you alone, unprotected." He looked displeased, his mouth turned into a scowling frown that I did not like one bit. Still, I didn't need to be looked after. I wasn't a convict on the run. I certainly wasn't worth this much frustration and finagling.

"I don't need to be looked after. I'm a grown woman." I protested. Eric leaned over to kiss my forehead, but he looked stern.

"Things are still up in the air with the new regime, my lover. While I'm away, I want to know that you're safe. If anyone tried to hurt you…" He clenched his teeth and I watched his fangs roll out halfway. Okay, got it, wasn't squirming out of this arrangement. I changed the subject.

"You talked to Sam?"

"He knows that you are under my protection. That is what we discussed. He does not seem to like me." Eric smirked.

"You don't like him either."

"He wants something he cannot have," Eric winked at me. His lips brushed against my forehead, and then my temple. "He is jealous, perhaps angry about it."

I sighed, wondering about Sam and his possible feelings for me. Sam was a good man, a good friend, but I'd never felt anything more for him than close friendship.

"And Bill," I frowned. "You told Bill to watch me."

"Bill always watches you, my lover. He loves you. I guarantee you he's out there right now, a sentinel."

"Well, boy if that doesn't suck the desire right out of me." I sank into the sheets, turned over. I pressed my back into Eric's hip, but not in a way that suggested he attempt to pull me out of my sudden slump.

"It doesn't please you to have so many men desirous of your company?" Eric teased, turning on his side to spoon with me. He kissed the back of my neck, slipped his arm around my waist.

"Not even a little," I frowned.

"Then I shall have to please you with my own desires." Eric grinned. I couldn't see him grinning, but I knew he was. His hand reached up to cup my breast while the other dove between my damp thighs.

***

I awakened the next morning after nine o'clock to an empty bed. I sighed and rolled over to touch the button on the alarm clock, only to find a folded note on top of it. I reached up and grabbed it, then settled back into my Eric-scented sheets to read it. The Viking had gorgeous script handwriting, and he'd signed the little slip of paper with an almost royal E. I read the note aloud, trying to mimic his deep voice. My lover, I will miss you. I promise to bring you back something beautiful from New Orleans. Be safe. E.

What would he possibly bring me back? Lingerie? Flowers? I thought about all the goodies Eric might bring back from the city while I showered and wrote out a list of errands to take care of before heading out to work. I grabbed a handful of library books from the kitchen table, loaded the dish washer, put some laundry in the dryer, and mowed the front lawn. Two o'clock mid-shift came around quickly, and I had to haul ass to the bar to relieve Danielle.

Because it was Sunday, the bar was quiet. I spent most of my shift in a kind of daze, reliving the night before as though it were a really great pornographic movie. I kept rewinding and fast-forwarding around the bad news of his departure, skipping to the good parts. Oh those were some good parts. I giggled as I sat at the bar, filling salt shakers. Sam raised an eyebrow at me, but I just smiled dreamily.

"What's going on, Sookie?" Halleigh Bellefleur asked me when I dropped off a glass of lemonade at her table.

"Oh, I just bought a new outfit," I giggled at her. Halleigh beamed at me and gushed about a few outfits she'd just bought too. I listened in a half-assed sort of way, hearing her without really hearing her. I nodded when I was supposed to do so, shook my head when necessary, and thought about Eric's pale skin soaked in the moonlight that peeked through my bedroom blinds.

We closed the bar down at eight o'clock on Sundays, so after we'd divided the tips, while Sam was cleaning up in the bar, I went down to his office to grab my handbag. I dropped my apron off in the laundry basket and opened the back door. There he was, Bill Compton, staring me right in the eye. He looked as though he were poised to open it and had been caught in the act. He gave me a weak, awkward look and stepped out of the doorway to let me by.

"Bill," I frowned. I dug my car keys out of my bag and walked over to the vehicle, sitting in the beam of the security light.

"Sookie," Bill nodded. "I came to escort you home."

"I know how to drive, Bill." I sneered at him. This was just getting ridiculous now. Was it always like this and I just didn't notice? No. No it wasn't. Bill was not usually showing up at the bar, waiting to follow me home.

"These are uncertain times, Sookie. Eric asked me to keep an eye on you."

"He told me. But I still know how to drive to my own house. This is ridiculous is what it is."

Sam appeared. He was locking up the back door, and he turned to stare at me and my ex-vampire whatever. His face was sour, obviously disapproving.

"Everything alright, Sook?" Sam called.

"Fine, Sam. Everything's just fine."

"Alright, well, goodnight." Sam waved and walked over to his trailer. I couldn't see him, but I knew he was staring at me through his window shades.

"I'll just follow you home in my car, Sookie." Bill said, pointing to the small blue hatchback parked a few spaces away from me. I sighed and nodded. After all, we were going to the same place, right? I unlocked my car and got in. Bill revved his engine. We drove out in the direction of the old cemetery, but at the turnoff to my house, Bill followed me. I was seeing red when I got out of the car, my house keys poised and ready.

"Damnit, Bill! I told you I'm fine!"

"Sookie, we really need to talk…" Bill began. His eyes were dark with sadness.

"No. No way. You may be assigned to protect me or whatever for Eric, but I am not going to let you use this opportunity to chat about your maker and whatever else happened in Mississippi! Do you hear me?! If I hear so much as a peep out of you about that whole thing, I'll never speak to you again!"

And with that, I went in the house and slammed the door.

I knew him instantly, but it took a minute for me to place a name on his face. He got to his feet from my Gran's floral sofa. That thing never made anyone look good, but it was a sentimental object and I needed to keep it. When he stood, shivers rolled through me like waves smacking into the beach. I dropped my keys on the floor.

"Victor Madden," I mumbled.

"Sookie Stackhouse," Victor nodded his head in that vampire way of greeting. Gooseflesh covered every single inch of me. I think I forgot to breathe. My heart forgot to beat.

"How did you…" I started. Arms clamped around me from both sides and I turned frightfully to see two enormous Weres pop out of the shadows of my darkened house. Oh this was not good. This was so very not good.

"Remember to rescind your invitation next time you have a vampire in your house, Miss Stackhouse. Otherwise, we're liable to come in whenever we please." Victor sneered as the hot hand of a Werewolf clamped down over my mouth.