Obligatory Disclaimer: I own my copies of the Sookie books, box sets of True Blood, and subscription to HBO. The characters in this story are owned by HBO, Alan Ball and Charlaine Harris, I'm just toying with them for a moment and then I'll give them back in mint-condition, pinky-promise.

Pam's POV

I enjoyed the sounds pouring out of Yvette's mouth. I was going to enjoy her. To say I was distracted as I pulled Bill down the steps is a bit of an overstatement, but my attention was divided between enjoying seeing Bill Compton suffer and hearing Yvette moan. Sex and violence, really the best combination if you ask me, and believe me, people did ask.

At the moment, Yvette was hanging prone, her arms stretched out, with her eyes blindfolded and Eric pounding her from behind. He had her hips hitched up, her back arching so that her tits were on perfect display. I might have licked my lips, I definitely did drool.

"Billy," Eric mused after making Yvette climax hard and loud and then nodded to me, "Would you be so kind as to take our new dancer up to my office? I'm sure there are some things you'd like to train her in."

Oh were there! I giddily released her hands from their restraints, leaving the blindfold on, and ushered her up the stairs. Tonight really was turning out to be delightful!

Bill's POV

Crestfallen, that is, by far, the best word to describe how I felt after Sookie fled the table to the ladies' powder room. I have only myself to blame for not noticing my captors. A chainmail-type silver net encased my head, complete with a silver chain pulling my throat tightly and a blindfold made of silver so I was blind. I couldn't cry out even if I wanted to. And I did not want to. I did not wish Sookie to be placed in danger, so I held my tongue and allowed myself to be taken away from her before I began to struggle.

In retrospect, that was perhaps not the wisest decision as the proximity and volume of silver did have quite serious detrimental effects on my strength. I soon found myself in a moving vehicle and I remembered Oprah Winfrey's admonitions to not allow one's kidnapper to move one. I sighed with a heavy heart.

I had failed myself and Oprah.

Sooner than I would have imagined, I found myself being guided down a staircase while I heard a familiar noise in the background. I believe it was a song by that sweet, young girl who was all the rage with teenagers right now, Britney Spears, it sounded like "3". I was too distracted, listening to the dulcet sounds of her cooing to notice the particularly voracious coupling which was happening near me. It was only until I heard that pestilence's voice that I realized my error.

Eric's POV

Subterfuge is not my forte. Hell, I hadn't even been able to keep a ridiculous grin off my face while Sookie was still sucking my chest. I paused to relive that delicious moment. When that was done I brought my attention fully to the present. So, as I was thinking, deceit is not a strong suit of mine, mostly because I choose to rarely practice it. Unfortunately, the Queen, nutty as a gluten-free nut cracker, doesn't live by any code, so lies were almost mandatory when dealing with her.

Now, the simplest option would be to just off Bill. But then I would miss out on watching him suffer as Sookie chose me. So clearly that option was out.

I knew Bill must have hidden, dark, intentions when it came to Sookie, so I could extract and then use those secrets to blackmail him into silence, but, really, I wanted the possibility of using them in my hunt for Sookie. So, I couldn't do that either.

I could tell him that the Queen was the one ordering the V selling, so threatening to tell her would be moot, but that would only make him a greater liability-something I was not looking to do.

So, I decided upon the ol' if you can't beat 'em, join'em routine. I handed Billy a gallon-size Ziploc baggie (they keep blood fresher than Glad) full of vials of V and slapped him on the back a couple of times-successfully jarring his silver bindings against un-singed skin. I love multi-tasking.

"Here you go, old chap! I'd like you to pass this along to the well-known V dealer in your town of Bon Temps, Louisiana."

His voice took on the archaic tone of a Southern gentleman and he skipped using contractions, like that green robot on Star Trek, "I shall do no such thing, Eric."

I sighed, He really didn't get it, did he?

"Who's Eric?" I feigned while attaching a remote-controlled, Punk'd camera type of device to his coat's lapel. I did it all ninja-like so he couldn't even feel it being attached. I paused for a moment considering that an order from an anonymous source alone might not be sufficient, so I lamely added, "Deliver this or I'll kill your human."

"You would not!"

Turning someone so counted as killing them, well, by Bill's standards at least, and I didn't have to do it right away-who wants an unwilling child? "Oh, I most definitely would." After a moment's pause I finished with a chipper farewell, "Now, off you go!"

I silently called Pam to return Bill to Mr. Reuben, who has orders to dump him in the middle of Mississippi. Because, really, there's no greater punishment than being in Mississippi. Well, I suppose being tortured can be pretty bad too. But aside from torture methods, worst thing. I swear.

A/N – Please read and review!

I wrote this to work out in my head what the heck Eric was planning on doing with Bill to "take care of him personally." All of the most obvious options seemed inadequate, for reasons stated above. :)