Author Note: Here is another one that is definitely not new, but hopefully worth reading again. I wrote it in homage to Sookie's random and adorable horny Bill dreams in Season 1. I also set it during 'Sparks Fly Out' as IMO, its the best episode of True Blood, EVER. Will they ever beat it? Will they hell...I miss Gran, and Bill trying to charm the town in his nerdy suit, le sigh. Anyway, enjoy. I've only got one more first person Sookie n' Bill story to post after this and I'm done. Thanks for reading my old stuff. PS, title is from a Franz Ferdinand song.

'I will not call on you again.'

Several very strong urges passed through me at that moment. I wanted to laugh, stamp my foot, screech 'Yeah right!' at the top of my lungs, and most annoyingly, I wanted to burst into tears. I was so mad I could spit, but I managed to exit with dignity, letting myself in through the front door, my spine stiffening when I heard the car door thud and the purring engine of the BMW start up. Bill was going then, he really meant it, I wouldn't be seeing any hovering at the foot of the steps if I turned around, no sad hound dog eyes looking up at me, begging for forgiveness.

I snorted angrily and slammed both doors shut behind me, my heels click clacking over the floor like a damn elephant was wearing them. I heard the faint crunch of tyres on gravel heading out of the yard. He was going home, to do whatever he did when he was alone. Listen to crazy foreign music, wander around in the woods in the dark, host orgies with other mean vampires and pathetic diseased fangbangers, I didn't want to know. Bursting into the kitchen I found it silent and empty, Gran was not up waiting for me as usual, sitting at the table absorbed in one of her pulpy romance novels. It was very late yes, too late for Gran to be up, but it pushed my temper up even higher. She wasn't looking out for me, she trusted Bill, she expected me not to come home! Well, she didn't know what he was really like, hadn't seen what I had seen at his house, in that trashy bar, and now in the car on the way back from Shreveport.

He was going to kiss me when that stupid cop turned up, and the flood of excitement that had risen in me at that moment was still there, an uncomfortable warmth lying deep in my belly. He'd saved my life, I could never forget that. And he was so handsome and attentive and seductive and charming...oh yes, I wasn't blind and deaf. I was a woman, a woman who hadn't had many kisses or much attention, and I had needs too, especially lately. Those needs were often all I could think about, hitting me at inconvenient times, a wave of dirty thoughts making me pause and catch a breath, or causing me to spend far too much time lying in bed, not sleeping but doing something else.

He was all those wonderful things, and he gave me peace, utter peace and quiet in my overloaded mind, and that was as precious as diamonds and rubies. But that wasn't the point...I shook myself, chasing away the fog that had surrounded me since I had climbed in the passenger seat of his car tonight. The point was, he was going to kiss me with that pretty mouth, the same mouth that would have ripped out that cop's throat if I hadn't been there. He scared me, and it was a real smart idea to listen to that squeaking voice of fear and get the hell away from him, while I could still make myself. I should forget what it felt like to kiss him, the cool sweetness, forget how much I wanted to taste more, forget his dark, rich voice, pouring into my ears like honey... 'Shit!' I hissed under my breath, slapping my hand against the wall childishly.

I unclenched my jaw long enough to fetch a glass of water from the faucet, wincing at the warm, flat taste, and then flicking off the kitchen light I climbed the stairs to my room, moving as quietly as my heels and bad mood would allow me. I stopped by the bathroom on the way to wipe off my make up, avoiding my own gaze in the bathroom mirror. There was too much going on in my brain to sleep; the muddled, sex obsessed thoughts of all the patrons in the bar, the other vampires I talked to, all much scarier than Bill, if I was being honest. My idiot brother and his inability to keep his dick in his pants, those poor murdered girls, his conquests. And the awful, weak compulsion in the back of my mind to run to the window and check whether my dark, dead man had come back. I already missed him. Maybe I was the horny idiot, not Jason.

I growled at my reflection and flung myself out of the bathroom and into my bedroom, kicking off my uncomfortable shoes, shucking my dress over my head, dropping it carelessly on the floor, clawing off my jewelery and running a brush rapidly through my hair. I picked out my longest, most baggy and frumpy nightgown, as if trying to deny the mostly lurid and adults only things swarming in my mind. It was a hot night, and the gown would stick to me like glue. Sighing, I slid underneath the sheets, bracing myself for a load of tossing and turning, I had the lunch shift tomorrow, I prayed for sleep, I craved it like a drunk craves bourbon.

I left the bedside light on, like a little girl afraid of the dark, the boogyman in her closet, or outside her window, hiding under the covers in a virginal nightgown, muttering under her breath the kind of bad words good little girls shouldn't know. I ignored today's events and focused on the rustlings and murmurings of the night, crickets and frogs, the hoot of owls, the whirring of the air conditioner, all harmless and familiar, and one by one the horrible things crowding my consciousness slipped away. My limbs stretched out across my childhood bed, and finally, there was an uneasy peace. The only thing left was a slow, cool smile on a beautiful, glowing face, a flick of knowing eyes, the silence of a closed mind wrapping around me like a protective bubble, shutting out the clamour of my life. I slipped into the bolthole of sleep, thinking of Bill, though I did not want to.

I didn't stay under for long, something called to me through the thick black rug of sleep, causing me to roll over and creak one eyelid open. For a while all I could take in was the familiar pink flowered walls of my room, lit by the lamp, the clutter of knick knacks on my dressing table, and my clothes lying in a puddle on the floor. All seemed normal, there were no strange sounds that might explain my sudden alertness, but there was a presence in the room, definitely. My thoughts flicked to the murderer running loose in the town, and my throat closed over in a rush of fear, I sat bolt upright, getting ready to scream my head off. There was a weight at the foot of the bed, someone sitting there, waiting for me to wake up, I clutched the sheet to my bosom and backed up against the headboard, but didn't scream, I hissed instead. 'What the hell are you doing in here, Bill?'

Fear and desire fluttered like butterflies in my stomach, fighting with each other, and there was a blush staining my face, probably very visible to the silent figure who was perched at my feet. He didn't answer for a long moment, giving me time to get my heart rate down to a semi-normal level, not startling me with any sudden movements. I stared at him, how could I not? He was in my bedroom in the dead of night, his white, white skin shining as if he was lit from the inside by a candle, blue eyes warm and fixed upon the loose buttons at the neckline of my nightgown. And speaking of buttons, his were undone as well, giving me an eyeful of his sculpted body, a well muscled chest decorated with a thatch of dark hair that trailed down his flat stomach to...

I blinked and swallowed, I heard the faint rumble of a seldom used laugh. 'I felt you calling to me, felt your need for me, so I am here,' he said boldly, his lovely voice tickling me in some sweet spot deep inside.

I stifled a gasp and lifted my chin, getting ready to tell him to get the hell out, to tell him this was very wrong, to come into a young lady's room in the dead of night, shirtless, obviously expecting something. Well, he was getting nothing. 'I certainly did not call you,' I whispered angrily, 'How dare you...you come in here and sit on my bed like you own the damn place! I was sleeping, now leave me alone, I got to get up for work in a few hours.'

His mouth quirked into a shape which could only be described as cynical, a long, elegant hand toying with the sheet that covered my bare toes. 'You forget, my blood is in you. I can feel you wanting me even if you tell yourself you don't.' He crept forward a few inches, his clear blue eyes catching in the lamp light, freezing me to the spot, they were so beautiful and so disturbing, a spark of dark mischief dancing in their depths. 'Sookie,' he purred slowly, his voice as delicious as the first time he had said my name in Merlotte's, and affecting me in the very same place, I felt like slapping myself, then him. 'If you don't want me here, you know what to do. Rescind my invitation, it is that simple.'

I thought about it for a minute, imagined him flying backwards out of my room, scowling, leaving me alone to sleep the sleep of the virtuous lady, but all the while I was thinking furiously Bill was advancing across the bed like a cat stalking a bird. My mouth wouldn't form the words, it was paralysed, like he was glamouring me though I knew he couldn't do that. It appeared my frustrated body was making up my mind for me, I didn't speak, I just waited, not even protesting when the sheet was peeled off and he settled above me comfortably. I held my hands crossed over my breasts, but he lifted them away gently, he was so close I could smell him clearly; a rich, dark scent that made the heat in my belly spread out, my limbs now feeling too heavy to move.

His lips descended, little pecks on my forehead, my burning cheeks, then my gaping mouth, nipping at my bottom lip firmly, I whined softly. 'Don't, please don't, Bill, I'm scared.'

Did he know? From what I had told him about my nonexistent love life he must have guessed, and aside from the fact I was scared of what he was, of him biting me, I was also terribly scared of the pain, of being useless at doing it, of not liking what he did to me and then never wanting to be touched like that again. Finding some backbone I began struggling against him in a sudden panic, trying to knock him off me, slapping at his shoulders, wriggling with all my strength, but I might as well have been fighting a statue, he merely pulled me closer, lifting me off the bed and into his cool embrace, little soothing noises resounding in his chest. 'Ssh, Sookie, ssh,' he murmured. 'There is no escape from this, my darling. I promise to take care of you...I swear you will love every second.'

It was on the tip of my tongue to finally speak the words that would make him leave, I hate being cornered and controlled, hate it, why was I letting him kiss me? Why was I throwing my head back and moaning, giving his cool lips access to my throat, why the hell was I wrapping my legs around him and rubbing myself against him like a cat in heat? I didn't know, I was ashamed, ashamed and excited and growing warmer, that familiar throb between my thighs ten times stronger than it ever was when I was having some alone time. I gave in and offered my lips to him, responding to the smooth movement of his mouth over mine, the flick of his tongue. He was breathing though he'd told me he didn't have to, his breaths sharp and ragged, his lips cold at first but heating up fast from the friction and the warmth of my mouth. As I remembered, he tasted like nothing else on earth, so delicious it was impossible to stay angry.

Time slowed down to a trickle, every movement of his hands over the outside of my nightgown light and tentative, his kisses firm and demanding but somehow gentle, the only thing going too fast for me was the thudding of my heart. I began to want more, my idle hands lifting from above my head and sliding under his open shirt, enjoying the silky texture of his skin. He was so weirdly cold to the touch, but on a hot summer night this was only pleasant, and his body was gorgeous, hard with muscles that would never grow slack, and there was something even harder pressing against my inner thigh, something I was a little afraid of as it felt extremely large.

Somehow without me noticing my nightgown was gone, and I was naked under him, and Bill was looking, propping himself up on one arm as his hand drifted over my breasts. I stared up at him shyly, blinking when I realised his clothes were also gone, when did that happen? I waited for him to say something, blushing like crazy, my eyes scooting downwards and then flicking back up just as fast. Oh my God, the reality was a hell of a lot more impressive than the fantasy, I was no longer a little afraid, I was terrified. 'You are so beautiful,' he said huskily, the expression on his face almost painful to see, as if he was fighting against some black urge inside him, he was trembling, I could feel it under my hands. 'Please Sookie, do not be frightened of me, of this...'

He groaned and turned away for a moment quickly, and I heard that odd clicking sound, and when he turned back I saw, my heart leapt into my thoat, almost choking off my blurted words. 'You're...you're not going to bite me, are you?'

His eyes closed in a wince, as if he was asking himself that same question, and when they opened they looked kind of sad, distracting me from my fascination with his fangs, scary yes, but interesting, I wondered if I touched them with my tongue would they cut me? Bill pulled away slightly, his face going as blank and smooth as a sheet of paper. 'No,' he whispered, 'I will not bite you, not unless you give me permission.'

Well, that made me feel slightly better, I took a breath. 'That's okay, then,' I said awkwardly, my fingers settling in the thick hair at the back of his head. I brought him back down to me, kissing him carefully, the uncomfortable moment forgotten a in a happy swirl of pure excitement. We were naked together, his skin sliding over mine, his hands everywhere, his head lowering to my breasts, causing me to stifle a loud moan with the back of my hand when I felt his mouth closing around a nipple, then the other, swapping between the two. I felt the wonderful pulling sensation shooting down my body to my groin, where I was getting very wet and tingly, and a hand was heading in that direction, skimming over my stomach, a single fingertip drawing lightly over the flesh, opening me.

I startled myself with the way I reacted, jerking off the bed and onto the exploring hand, biting down on my own hand to shut myself up. Bill lifted his head from my breasts to rumble. 'No, no darling, don't try and be quiet, I want to hear you moan.' And as if testing my reactions as well as how moist and ready I was, I felt two fingers slide up inside me, a thumb grazing my clit. I cried out, forgetting my sleeping Gran in the room downstairs, throwing my head back, oh, oh God, I never thought I could feel this way, I was no longer scared, not a tiny bit, I just wanted him, was so hungry for what was next. One of my hands also drifted south, down, down over the trail of dark hair to touch him as he touched me.

Embarrassed but very curious, I kept my eyes closed, feeling the long length of his...his cock, yes, that was the best word for it, the solid flesh twitching slightly in my palm. Bill gave a strange, hoarse groan, and as I fumbled about his more skilled touch intensified, his fingers moving inside me deeply, my clit rubbed in circles. I was whining and writhing at the pleasure, it was driving me mad, there was something amazing just beyond my reach, all my frustration of the last few days coming to a delightful end but needing something to set it off.

And suddenly, I had the spark I wanted. Bill loomed above me, his handsome face no longer blank but oddly tender, despite the glint of his bared fangs and the dark, determined stare he gave me. I didn't have time to brace myself, I felt the air knocked out of my lungs at the pain, the tearing of my flesh and then the strong sensation of being completely filled, for the first time taking someone inside me. I sobbed in agony and delight, arching my back to take the slow thrusts, the steady rhythm of his thumb over my clit not stopping, but speeding up, making it easy for me to enjoy it through the pain. I pulled his face to mine and kissed him hard, muffling my sobs with his lips, his tongue catching a drop of blood from my own lips. I hadn't even noticed I had cut myself, I didn't care, there was a fiery explosion building down below that was taking all my attention. I was coming, my flesh igniting and rippling, taking him deeper inside me. He stopped moving within me, holding his powerful body completely still, he growled as I screamed and thrashed about on the tangled sheets, clawing at his back to stop myself flying up into the air.

It took me a few moments to realise he hadn't reached his own orgasm, I was too distracted by the waves of pleasure drawing away from me, and the growing feeling of discomfort inside from where he had broken me open. I was back to kissing him lazily, my hands on his butt, enjoying the round shape of his buttocks, my nails scratching patterns on his fine skin. Carefully, to show myself and Bill I wasn't afraid anymore, I touched the tip of my tongue to his fangs, exploring each one, they were so long and sharp, I imagined what it would feel like if he bit me, wondering whether it would hurt more than what had just happened, but that hurt had been nothing compared to how much I had loved it. My lover groaned in response, his body going extremely tense in my arms, and then he was gone, withdrawing from me gently and slipping downwards, much to my surprise.

I had wondered about this act and heard plenty of people's thoughts on the subject, but I wasn't sure whether I would like it. I was once again embarrassed as my legs were pushed further open and he knelt, looking down at my sore pink flesh with a greedy look on his face. Oh, there would be blood down there, I was about to tell him no but then ohh...oh wow. I couldn't hold on to my shame, it felt too good to be wrong, his fingers holding me open and his tongue sliding up inside me, twirling, lapping at my juices and my blood while I watched, completely shocked and gasping like a landed fish, the rawness in my flesh vanishing and something much better taking its place. My hands flailed about, seeking something to hold onto, latching onto the headboard of the bed while I arched upwards, letting him clean me.

Sweat prickled between my breasts, I felt scorching hot all over, my gasps turning into weird little noises as he suckled at my folds, flicked at my clit, oh shit, the steady movements of his tongue in and out...I was going to die of this. 'Please, oh please, Bill, please...'I whimpered, not knowing what I was asking for. To have him back inside me yes, but making love to me, or fucking me? To have him bite me? His dark, silky head turned, and I felt his wet lips slither along my inner thigh, a ripping growl rising in his hunched over body, shoulders rigid with effort. I remembered what he had said the night I had rescued him, and tonight in the car to the police officer, and I was about to tell him to take it, my mouth opening to give permission, but then he moved yet again, not giving me the chance.

The taste of my blood seemed to have broken any restraint Bill was showing me out of courtesy, for he moved at lightning speed, flipping me over on my front before I could even blink. I was now facing the scattered pillows, I could sense him behind me, his strong hands yanking me up onto my knees. Again I was faced with the dilemma of feeling shame or going with my animal instincts, it was my night for it, but then his hands were gripping my waist, pulling me back onto his cock, and I had no energy to think about what he was doing. I screamed, a high, thin sound that must have woken up everyone in town, the pleasure like a burning sword sinking into my guts. For a few fierce minutes he did not spare me, giving me a glimpse of the beast inside him, the slut that lurked inside me, slamming into me so hard I thought I would split in two. I hugged a pillow for dear life, biting into it to muffle my screams, letting myself absorb every cruel thrust, letting it flow through my body, a total slave to what he was making me feel.

I needed to touch him, to reach out and make sure he was real, that this was real, I let go of the pillow and groped behind me, placing a hand over his, and he responded, moaning my name and lifting me up so I was sitting on his lap, his cock still buried deep inside me. He was so strong he could hold me cradled in his arms like this, moving us both as one, my softer, weaker body melting into the cool hardness of his chest. A hand twisted in my hair, pulling my head to the side so he could kiss me. Possessive, demanding, bold, tender, hungry, I could taste all of him in that kiss. The tightening in my loins was telling me I was going to come again, but this time I wanted him to let go, I wanted it all. I moved in slow motion, my hand reaching up to curl at the base of his skull, then I turned away from his dangerous mouth, tilting my head to the side and pushing him down into the curve of my neck. 'Take it, Bill...drink from me.'

The hand on my waist that rocked me back and forth so skillfully sunk into my skin, hard enough to bruise, and my hair was yanked backwards in an equally hard tug, exposing my throat completely. I felt him run his tongue over the spot, I twitched in his grasp violently, but it was too late to back out. A powerful sting, the sound of my skin breaking under his bite, but then an explosion inside my mind, echoed in every part of my trapped body, the vibration of his groans and grunts merging with my wild cries, the liquid sound of him lapping me up. Blood and sweat trickling down between my breasts, the deep throb of release joining us together in white hot bliss, sparks, red and gold sparks bursting in my brain, then nothing. I was flying through the void of space, black and featureless, the pleasure of our release hot and sweet, and as heavy as lead inside me.

My brain had decided it had tortured me enough. My eyes slammed open, and I was immediately aware I was in fact alone, the pale pink light of dawn creeping through the open curtains, a sign of freedom from the visitations of the night. No boogyman, no handsome neighbourhood vampires. I sat up, taking stock of myself. The sheets were thrown about as if a hurricane had torn through the bed, and my nightgown was in a similar state, twisted around my body like a hank of rope. I felt sweaty and flushed, I patted my hands nervously over various parts of my anatomy. Neck first- there was no bite. Breasts, stomach, and then between my legs- all was intact, but I was amazingly wet, my fingers too. I groaned, realising I had been touching myself in my sleep like a horny teenager.

Two very pertinent thoughts rose at that moment, as the lurid details of my dream came flooding back to slap me around the head. The first thought, oddly not a bad one, was that I had a pretty vivid and explicit imagination for a girl who was supposed to be a virgin. And the second thought, this one not so comforting, was that I would never be able to look Bill Compton in the eye again, unless the dream faded from my memory like some of them tended to. Please God, I hope this was the kind of dream a girl forgot. But I wasn't going to see him again anyway, was I? Not alone at least, no way. 'So I'm alright,' I said aloud, trying to reassure myself and stubbornly ignoring the stab of regret that added to my morning gloom.

Angry at myself, angry at Bill for even more reasons than last night, and feeling very dirty, I thought getting up and having a shower was a good idea. Sleep was not going to happen, and lying around in my bed of sin was likely to cause me to dwell on the juicier parts of my dream. So I hit the floor, stumbling to the dresser to fish out some cutoffs and a vest for hanging around the house in before work, noting the wild state of my hair and the dazed look in my brown eyes in the three way mirror. If I didn't know better, I would say I looked exactly like a woman who had just been fucked senseless. Yes, fucked, no need to be polite about it. 'Damn it, Sookie, get a grip!' I spat at my reflection before stalking to the bathroom to wash the dream clean off.

I jumped under the lukewarm spray as fast as I could after shedding my nightgown, picking up the sponge and strawberry shower gel and setting to work, trying to think of clean things, good but boring things. My old Sunday School teacher, gardening, baking cookies, Gran, old black and white movies, but damn, it didn't work. As I scrubbed myself, my mind drifted back to what I had just experienced. What did it mean? Did I want Bill for himself, of did I just want to get laid after years of holding out? Did he effect me so strongly because I had taken his blood? He had warned of the possible side effects, and that made it hard to know whether the desire I felt was real or just an illusion.

But then I remembered. That night in Merlotte's, before I was nearly beaten to death and he saved me. When I had seen him across the bar and walked towards him almost as if hypnotised, sat down and taken his hand, the lonely yet crowded, noisy yet dull little world I lived in had disappeared. I had felt the thrum of new, exciting life resound through my whole body when he had spoken my name. No, it wasn't just the blood. If it was, then these thoughts, these crazy night visitations, the awkwardness, my frustration at what he was and who his friends were, would just not matter. I definitely wanted Bill for himself. The question was, did I want him enough for all the trouble that went along with him?

Well, if he's anything like he was in my dream then the answer is fuck yes, I thought rebelliously, telling common sense to go to hell so I could have a brief moment of happiness. I was too sensible a girl for it to last, so it was safe to let myself smile and shiver over the dark, dangerous man that haunted my dreams, and then I stepped out of the shower to meet the day, closing him off in a sunless corner of my mind.

THE END