A/N: So I was trying to think one day... what is one situation I've never read in FF? How can Sookie and Eric meet and/or have a connection and have it be unique? I've seen roommates, coworkers, friends, strangers, just about everything. One single situation came to mind. MissyDee assured me that the "ick" factor would be low to nonexistent and Makesmyheadspin gave me Chicago facts. Both awesome ladies beta'ed this for me and kept me sane while I figured out this twisty little tale. Normal disclaimer about how they aren't mine goes here. And a big NSFW goes here also. Enjoy.

Jesus Fucking Christ. My dad is getting married. Again. The man just doesn't know when to say when. I was born in Sweden, but my mother died before I was a year old. Mommy number two was from New York, so we moved there shortly after he met her. That lasted until I was five. Mommy number three was from Phoenix. Moving there sucked. Swedes are not meant to live in the desert. That ended when I was eleven. Mommy number four was from Chicago. She lasted the longest. By the time the shine was gone, I was eighteen and in college. So when he found Mommy number five, I was under no obligations to move to whatever Godforsaken hellhole she lived in. I liked Chicago.

"Alright, Dad, tell me about this 'The One'," I groan, knowing he was like a puppy, practically quivering with excitement.

I hear the smile in his voice. "Her name is Michelle. She has two kids. One is a boy and a little older than you; the other is a girl just a few months younger than you; maybe closer to a year. Jason and Susannah."

"Wonderful," I say in a deadpan. I have more former step-brothers and step-sisters than I really care to remember. After the divorces, none of them seemed to want to stay in touch. Go figure.

"So have you already moved to... where does this one live again?" I ask. I know its somewhere in the south. He follows his heart to where the women he wants live.

"Shreveport, son. When are you able to come and meet her?"

I groan. I don't want to meet Mommy number five. Given the average lifespan of his marriages, she won't even be around to see me graduate. Not a big deal in my book. "I don't know, Dad. The semester just started. I won't have a long enough break to get down there until Thanksgiving. Think she's gonna still be around by then?"

"I know you don't believe it, Eric, but this time it's different. I can see myself forever with this one." I can almost mouth along with what he's saying; he's said the same thing to me three times before.

I remain skeptical. "Good luck with that." My doorbell rings and I silently give thanks so I can get the hell off the phone. "Dad, Pam's here. I have to go."

"Have fun and don't forget to book your tickets to fly down for Thanksgiving. I'll see you then. Love you."

"Yeah, you too, Dad. Bye."

I hang up the phone and answer the door. Pam's been my best friend since I was thirteen. We went to the same private school and both had been accepted to Northwestern University. We're both Poli-Sci majors and live in the same apartment building. She's me, but in an incredibly hot female body. If we didn't have the same taste in bedmates, I would have married her.

"Get your lazy ass in gear, Northman. If I'm driving to the damn party at NIU, you could at least be ready on time," Pam groans at me.

I roll my eyes at her. "You're the one that wants to go to this party. I'm just going for free drinks. I'll get ready on my own schedule, thank you."

I walk leisurely into my room and pull on some clean jeans and a blue t-shirt. Pam wants to go to this fucking sorority party that's over an hour away because her new fling goes there. She says that Amelia's sorority sister would be perfect for me. I have to laugh. I haven't had a "relationship" last more than a weekend. Ever. Wonder where thosecommitment issues come from.

I take my time lacing up my boots, trying to keep from laughing at Pam's silent frustration. She really makes it too easy sometimes. I grab my jacket and we head out to Pam's Beemer. I am so not a good passenger, but I deal since I don't have to handle the interstates.

We pull up to the house on Greek Row and I am already regretting my decision to accompany Pam. I'm all for a good party, but sloppiness is unforgivable and there's already someone puking in the bushes. Pam stretches her long legs out of the car and stands, hugging the slender brunette that came out to meet us. "Amelia, this is Eric. Eric, meet Amelia. Be nice."

I school my features into a pleasant smile. "Amelia, it's very nice..." and I'm cut off my by best friend's tongue going down the throat of the person I'm greeting. Fanfuckingtastic.

I leave them making out on the hood of Pam's car and go in search of alcohol. I see a keg in the middle of the main room; I'll bet the good stuff is in the kitchen. Sure enough, the little island has been transformed into a bar with every possible simple drink mix available. Standing behind the bar is one hell of a little hottie. Big blue eyes and long blond hair. Pouty pink lips that I can just imagine wrapped around my cock. Curves for fucking days that are only highlighted by the fuckhot sundress she wears. And dimples when she smiles. I'm so fucked already. I'm a sucker for dimples.

"What can I set you up with, Stretch?" she asks, with a sweet, unusual Southern accent. That's nice. You don't get that a lot here in the northern midwest.

"Jack and Coke... and your name."

She smirks. Fuck. Dimples again. "Jack and Coke coming right up," she says and turns to grab the whiskey. She mixes the drink and hands it over the island counter. "Oh! I forgot something!" I wait in anticipation as she leans further over the counter. My eyes are filled with spectacular cleavage and I miss something. She turns away. I look down. There's a lime slice in my cup. She looks back over her shoulder. "Enjoy," she calls, a lilt to her voice. Nice. A challenge.

I slowly turn as though I'm walking away, but turn back around before I get all the way out of the kitchen. Blondie pours herself a gin and tonic. Interesting. I would have pegged her for a sugary, sweet drinker, like most other girls I know. Another thing that sets her apart. Maybe tonight won't be the nightmare I thought it was going to be.

I can't resist and head back to the island, clearing my throat. She raises an eyebrow at me. "There's no way you've already finished that."

I return her smirk. "You didn't get my order quite right."

Her smile is amazing. "And what could I have possibly gotten wrong about a Jack and Coke?"

"I also asked for your name."

"All I'm serving here is what comes in these bottles. If you want more than that, you're gonna have to work for it, Big Boy."

I grab one of the bar stools set against the wall of the kitchen to keep them out of the way and take a seat opposite her. "So what do I have to do?"

She smiles again. "Well, that's a good start. What brings you here tonight?" she asks and leans forward and puts her weight on her elbows, looking at me intently.

"My best friend was invited by her new girlfriend. I came along for company while she drove." I shrug. It's the truth.

"Best friend is a girl, who is also into girls..." she thinks aloud. "Must be Pam. Amelia is the only one of us into the Sapphic side of relationships and she hasn't shut up about her new 'thing' from Northwestern. Am I warm?"

More like hot as hell, in more than one way, but I'm able to leave that thought in my head. "Got it in one," I say. "So you aren't into a little college experimentation?"

She giggles. "Not really. I know what I like... and I like men. A lot. There is just no way that a woman could get me off better than a man. While I am fond of my sisters, they are missing some critical equipment."

Saucy little minx. I'm liking her, and I still haven't gotten her name. "How am I doing so far in working my way toward your name?"

"Sookie! Fix me up a couple of screw-drivers!" we both hear bellowed from the front door. She sighs and pulls out two red cups that she fills half with vodka and half with orange juice for the trashy looking blond with black roots that runs in.

"Well, I guess your question is answered," she says after the screwdrivers disappear.

"Sookie? Is that a southern thing?" I ask with a little laugh.

A frown clouds her face. "You know, making fun of my name isn't helping your cause."

"Sorry, you're right. I apologize. How about we play a game of twenty questions. Just to pass the time between drink orders," I suggest.

"Sounds like a plan. Seems like more people are hitting the keg than the bar anyway. How about like for like? What's your name?"

We spend the next couple of hours talking about music, movies, classes. I learn she's a history major interested in teaching. She and her brother grew up in Dallas with her grandmother when her dad died and her mom traveled for business so often. By the time we run out of conversation, I finish a few more drinks, as does she. She slowly makes her way around the bar until she's right next to me. She makes it obvious where she wants me - and the evening - to end up.

"Look, I'm really not into this party. I don't feel like playing bartender anymore. What do you say we cut the chit chat and see if we can get what we're both after?"

I can't help but chuckle. "And what is it that we're both after, Sookie?"

"A few orgasms with no complications." The direct approach. I like it.

"Lead the way, I'm definitely up for that." She grabs my hand and leads me to her room. I peek out the door and Pam's car is still parked by the curb. At least she hasn't stranded me. We pass by a room with a closed door and hear moans.

"That's Amelia's room. Sounds like Pam will be occupied for awhile. I'd hate to think that you'd have to leave before we get what we want."

She pulls me into a room a few doors down and locks the door. "Now, Eric, I think I want to see what I'm working with here." She stretches up on her toes and pulls me down for a scorching kiss. Good God, her lips feel just as good as they look. I can't help but respond, and gasp just a little when her tongue slithers between my lips. I let mine wrestle with hers while our hands get better acquainted with the other's body. I'm more than pleased to realize that the awesome cleavage I saw earlier is completely natural not enhanced by some sort of Wonderbra... or any bra at all. Her hands, however, have found a different favorite spot and stay planted on my ass.

We paw at each other extensively until we're both panting. She claws at my shirt and I fumble for the zipper on her dress. We succeed at roughly the same time: her dress falls to the floor at the same time my shirt flies over my head. We take a moment to appreciate the new scenery, but I do find myself more than overdressed, considering my company is wearing nothing more than hot pink boyshorts. (Thanks to Pam, I can correctly identify various kinds of lingerie... and, strangely, shoes.) Her ass looks amazing, just peeking out from the edge. Ugh. So fucking hot.

She raises an eyebrow at the fact that I'm still in my jeans. "Eric, I understand if you want to take things slow, but I don't think Pam was planning on spending the night here and, while I'm all for the whole 'building anticipation' thing, I want to fuck. So can we please get the show on the road here?"

How is this little girl spouting the thoughts I usually keep to myself. I fucking love it. She knows this is a one night, one time thing as well as I do. I kick off my boots and strip my jeans off, only I tend to go commando. I have no modesty and am rewarded with her jaw on the floor.

"Holy crap, how do you walk without tilting to the side packing that thing?" Any tension there was is instantly broken.

"Come over here," I growl and pull her toward me. I slip my hands under the edge of her underwear and rub my palms over her bare ass. "Now who's overdressed, Sookie? Let's get that taken care of." I grab the waist of her little shorts and tug them down. Fuck, it's weird when what you've spent the night imagining fits the reality so fucking perfectly.

Her hand immediately runs over my dick, making me groan. She has the speed and pressure down perfectly. I pull her over to the bed where the height difference diminishes. I can't keep my mouth away from her tits for another second. She moans and her hand stills for a moment as she gets lost in the sensations. After a few moments, she starts stroking again, although her pace is a little more erratic. I slip a hand through her bare folds and she's fucking soaked. I slip two fingers into her; she moans louder and bites down on her bottom lip, which is sexy as hell. "I think you're ready for me, Sookie. Are you?"

"Nightstand," she gasps, and pouts just a little when I pull my fingers out. Before I open the drawer, I lick my fingers clean. Shit. If I had more time, I would make a fucking feast out of her pussy. But she's right: we are on borrowed time and the clock is running down.

I grab a condom from the drawer she indicates and roll it on. Grabbing her around the waist, I flip her so that she's on her back on the bed. I hover over her and position myself at her entrance. I push slowly into her and my eyes roll back at the tightness around me and the heat that makes it through the latex. Her legs wrap around my waist and she counters my thrusts with rolls of her hips. The way her tits bounce every time I shove in is hypnotizing.

"Harder, Eric, please," she sighs; I am never one to leave a partner wanting. I lean back on my knees, pulling her up with me and thrust into her hard and fast. I hear her panting escalate and I know she's close. I take one hand off her waist and stroke her clit. I feel her walls clench down on me and her hips start bucking against mine.

"Fuckfuckfuck!" she screams and I have a momentary wonder if her sisters would be worried by that or if this is just "Sookie". Then I just don't care anymore because whatever she's doing as she comes down feels so damn good that my rhythm gets a little thrown off.

She pulls herself up using my shoulders and pushes me onto my back . She rocks back and forth, grinding against me, bracing herself on my chest. She looks so fucking hot as she rides me and I allow myself to get lost in the feelings of what she's doing. I lift up my head and take one of her nipples in my mouth and she moans again. Her rocking and bouncing gets faster as she nears her second orgasm and I'm about to come.

"Come for me, pretty girl. Fuck, please come for me. Let me feel your tight little pussy milk my cock," I growl at her, thinking she's the kind of girl that would get off quicker with a little dirty talk and she doesn't disappoint. As soon as the words are out of my mouth, she comes with another scream and pulls me over with her. She rides out her aftershocks and lifts off me, falling to my side.

I head to the bathroom to clean up while she catches her breath. When I return, she props herself up on her elbow and looks up at me. "Well, that was definitely not what I expected when I volunteered for bartending duty. Thanks for making the night better than it would have been."

"Eric, get your ass out here already. We have an hour on the road and I want to go to sleep!" Pam's voice calls from the hall.

"Well, I guess that's my cue to leave," I say, hoping to skip the awkward "I'll call you" bullshit that usually takes place right about now.

"Nice meeting you Eric. Have a safe trip back," she says nonchalantly, getting off the bed to pull on a robe with barely a backward glance. "It was fun," and she disappears into her bathroom.

Left on my own to get dressed and leave, I feel a little let down that she doesn't seem the slightest bit interested in even trying to hook up again in the future. Figures. I pull on my clothes and boots and meet Pam in the hall. She has an exceptional case of sex hair, although since there's no mirror anywhere around, I'm pretty sure I can't throw any stones. She smirks at me; I smirk right back at her. As we head down the stairs to leave, I hear pounding on a door and, "Stackhouse, I want details! Is Tall, Blond, and Handsome proportional or what?"

Sookie Stackhouse. That's going to be a name I want to remember.

A/N: So, who wants more? This is going to be fairly short, only 6-7 chapters. I have most written. Reviews keep me inspired and on the right track.