Sookie POV.

After seeing Eric at my work yesterday, I remembered what spending time with men felt like. The conversation was so simple, and yet oddly enjoyable. And it was good to see him doing so well. I knew he'd be successful when he graduated, and I'd known he was going to co-own The Chase with Pam, but I thought that when she sold her half of the business, he would too. But instead, she sold it to him. That was nice.

Pam had flown into town the morning that I'd seen him. She had come into see me at work, and I'd given her my house key to make herself at home in my old farmhouse. She'd obviously accepted after she told me she was taking me out to dinner for my birthday that night. I hated my birthday since Gran had died. She always made me fruit salad and iced tea. It was always at the beginning of summer, so the fruit was lovely. But since she had died, I'd spent the time with Pam, just the two of us. She was my scapegoat for anything major occurring; I didn't want a proper birthday without Gran around.

She'd been acting strange when I got home from work, she was cleaning, my house. She could barely clean her own without complaining about breaking her nails or being a domestic house-wife. But then again, she was a house-wife at the moment. Well not exactly, but she was a house-fiancée. She'd bought me a dress for dinner, and I was glad it wasn't as short or as bright as her own. And she'd bought me gel pads to put in the hells she got me. She was a godsend. I noticed she wore them herself for a change.

But she awfully relaxed. Usually when it was someone's birthday, or when it was coming close to Christmas, which it was, she was usually chirpy and excited for the holiday season/ event. But here she was, doing her makeup in my bathroom mirror, with a neutral expression on her face. I did my makeup and my hair. I didn't normally do much, but I used every product I had tonight, and put gentle curls in my hair. Pam always looked good, and she knew it as she pouted in the mirror. But she wolf-whistled at me when I was finished, so I knew I applied everything correctly.

A limo pulled up in front of the house when it was time for the reservation, but it wasn't empty inside. Linda and the rest of the college group were inside, and apparently they were having dinner as well. I wasn't happy. Linda and such were the same age as Pam and I, except they were all married and I think Pauline had a one year old at home. Turns out she did. Now that Pam was engaged, I was the only single one in the group. I can say the feeling isn't that great being the only available person in a group. I shouldn't feel bad, seeing as how I'm only 23. Well, 24 tomorrow.

They chatted away while Pam and I sat in silence. She was happily staring off into the distance; something was definitely off with her. She hadn't even asked me if her hair was okay, or needed reassurance to her appearance. She was silent.

I saw Eric standing at the front of a building, the Neon's at the front identified the building as "The Chase." And we stopped, right in front of him. I guess this wasn't just a 'dinner' then. He gave the Linda posse a sharp nod and looked surprised to see his sister. She blew him a kiss and muttered something to him, she smiled at her and then turned to me. I thought my heart was going to jump out of my chest. I'd forgotten what being eye fucked felt like, and I liked attention. Well from the tall blonde anyways. I smiled up at him; his blue eyes were warm when they looked at me. The group walked inside without even looking back at me, so I was guessing tonight wasn't about me personally, I heard a big cheer, followed by laughing, and Eric laughed as well.

I told him about how I get my ultimate hangovers every time I get dragged out like this. I told him how Pam saved me every year, and all he did was drag me inside. As I guessed, it wasn't a dinner at all. The pub had been hired out for the night and filled with corny decorations that rotated around a food theme. Cute. I started to hug everyone that was there, there were only a few college friends, a few high school acquaintances. The rest of the crowd included local people, and a few regulars from the shop that I liked. My old boss and workmates were there as well, I thanked everyone there. Somewhere in between the beginning of the greetings and the end, Eric had passed me a wine glass. I smelt it and it was just lemonade so I thanked him. But he disappeared during the night again. After a few hours of meeting and greeting everyone that came, they seemed to forget me again, and my feet were getting sore so I went outside to take a breather.

He asked me if it was my birthday and no, it was tomorrow so I said so. He made sure I wasn't working and I was thankful I wasn't. I could finally make a dessert instead of cutting myself a piece of leftover cake.

He offered to bring me waffles and I think my heart melted at the thought of the crispy squares. With maple syrup. I think I could actually handle a hangover tomorrow if I was getting waffles. I'd taken my shoes off and he was mindlessly playing with them. But he all of a sudden gave them back to me after my stomach made a little flip. He helped me stand up when I had the brilliant idea to go and get Chinese for dinner.

He paid for dinner, and he'd put me in a good mood, so I bought a bottle of champagne. We made our own little picnic and ate in comfort. Well compared to what I remembered of Eric it was comfort. Compared to the 16 year old version of Eric, he was a neat eater. He didn't talk or chew with his mouth open. I remember that was the one flaw he had when I first met him. If it wasn't for his bad table manners, I could have married Pam's brother straight out of high school.

But I hate bad table manners. That's one trait I got from Gran. She always used to scold Jason when he burped at the table. The table was a place for eating, not for cussing or conversing.

When we got back after our small park picnic, I did the cake ritual of blowing out 24 candles and cutting the first piece, not touching the bottom of the plate with the knife. Eric was back behind the bar, and he handed me a glass of champagne, I accepted graciously, since I was enjoying the bubbles for a change, and I don't remember much after that.

I woke up the next morning to the sound of someone being sick in the bathroom across the hall. I also noted that the other half of my bed had been slept in, the covers thrown back. I would have been more stressed out if I didn't recognize the heaving as Pam's, and I knew she would have slept next to me. I stepped out of bed, dreading the hang over head spin. But I was fine. I should drink champagne more often if this is how my body handles it.

I went into the bathroom to see the sight of Pamela crouched over the toilet, her head in the bowl. I saw the clock and it was only 7 am. As strange as Pam was acting last night, I hadn't seen her with a drink in her hand all night, in fact. She only had bottles water. She was just being sick in the morning. Morning sickness.

"You're pregnant," I whispered to her.

She looked up to me with worry in her eyes. "My body hates this baby." She whispered back, and burst into tears. I bend down a hugged her, tight for that matter. She gripped back at me sobbing her heart out.

I don't know how long we were like that, but she eventually let me go to throw up again, I held her hair back and handed her a towel.

"Don't tell Eric," she begged, her eyes pleading. "We'll tell him at the wedding. I want it in a month's time, before I get fat."

"Not my secret to tell," I insisted. She needed a shower, and I took that as the perfect opportunity to go and find the coffee in this place. It was easy enough to find, kettle was on the bench, coffee and sugar were on the shelf above the stove. There was fresh milk in the fridge. I put the kettle on, and searched the cupboard for ingredients to make breakfast. I found what I needed for my much craved waffles, or if Eric didn't have a waffle iron, I'd settle for pancakes.

Sure enough, there was a giant waffle iron, and I started mixing the batter. By the time the batter was ready, the kettle had boiled. So I made 3 cups of coffee, and set them at the table. I'd poured the batter into the giant iron, and I was glad it made 4 at a time.

I guessed that Eric's bedroom was the one closest to the kitchen, it seemed important, and separate from the rest of the rooms. I opened the door a peek, and sure enough, the giant 6'5 blonde was sprawled across his California King. I set the coffee down on his dresser, and sat down next to him.

I lightly ran my fingers up and down his arm, and the only movement and he got goose bumps almost instantly, yet he didn't move. I ran my fingers across his neckline, and his nose twitched. I have to say it was the cutest thing. This man could scare the pants off anyone because of his tall and muscular frame, yet his nose twitched like a rabbits would. I didn't really dare to put my hands anywhere under the blankets, just in case he slept naked. So I just bounced on the bed a little and called his name out in a sing-song voice until his eyes fluttered open. Oh my god.

If he wasn't attractive enough in the normal daylight hours, and at night, he was even more so in the morning. His slight stubble made him look even more masculine, and his not light, not tanned skin looked flawless against his plain white sheets. Not to mention those blue eyes that pierced into mine.

"Coffee?" I offered, and pointed towards the dresser. He mumbled something incoherent and yawned, but sat up a little. "Breakfast's coming,"

I jumped up with a smile on my face, and skipped out the door.

"Sookie," his voice called out from his bed. I poked my head through the door, and fluttered my eyes at him.

"Yes?" I asked.

"Good morning," he yawned, and half staggered out of his bed. I didn't keep my head through the door long enough to see if he slept naked. I was curious to find out though.

I finished up on the waffles in record time, and Eric and Pam emerged at the same time. They grinned at each other and exchanged pleasantries, while Eric helped me find the plated and cutlery. I filled the sink up with hot water and detergent, for the upcoming dishes.

"Feeling alright, I guess Sookie?" asked Eric from across the table. He had a smug look on his face, so I was taking that as sarcasm.

"Yep, Life's peachy."

Pam sniggered at us. I noticed she looked thinner than she usually did as she sat next to me. I thought women were supposed to gain weight during they're pregnancy, not lose it. She was right when she said that her body didn't like the baby. It despised the child.

I wondered whether she would have a boy or girl. And if it would call me Aunt Sookie or not. Eric and Pam were talking about something across the table, but I barely noticed. I heard wedding, and I didn't want to hear it. I was happy that Pam was getting married. But when she did, that would mean that I was the only one from our clique that was unwed. And one of the few without babies. I didn't mind that I was the only one without it, I never gave into peer pressure. It was just kind of depressing that I hadn't found my own slice of happiness as of yet. I'd love to have a kid. I'd call it Hunter if it was a boy, and Holly if it was a girl. I'd have dinner on table for the child every night, and I'd have it in nice clothes. I wondered what Pam would be like, as a mother. But I knew she'd be fine.

Pam had changed her mind about what sex she prefers at least 50 times. But she'd always wanted babies. She took Home economics in high school, she was a fantastic babysitter and she looked after herself perfectly. If it was true that mothers loved their children more than themselves, then I was sure that any child of Pamela Northman would be spoiled.

I zoned into the conversation unwillingly. Eric was looking at me oddly; he had realized that I wasn't paying attention. But Pam was going over wedding plans. She wanted her wedding to be New Years, so 27 days. She wanted a green and white wedding, which I thought was odd, but she had green eyes so it was a nice idea. Which a green theme, she could have white daisies everywhere, and no one would think anything of it. At least she knew what she wanted.

I started to do the dishes once everyone had finished, but Eric took over.

"You not only made me coffee, but you also made me breakfast. I'm on dishes." I puffed but gave up willingly. No chef liked doing dishes. Pam dried. She'd gotten happier since this morning. I guess telling me had lightened the mood a little in front of me.

Eric looked at her strangely, but said nothing. He would then glance at my face every so often while I was thinking about the bean-sized baby in her belly. I laughed at his confused expression. Pam refused the next 3 cups of coffee, and sullenly drank water instead, while Eric and I challenged each other on how long we could hold our bladder after 4 cups of coffee. I lost, of course.

While Eric was showering however, Pam decided she wanted to watch a movie so she curled up on the couch watching some really corny movie with Steve Carrel in it.

It was the couch. The all-famous well missed couch of the Northman's parents. I felt the cushion of the second cushion, and sure enough, it was a bouncy as I remembered.

I curled up on it (yes, I could fit on one cushion) and looked over to Pam. She was sleeping with her legs tucked into her body. Like a child. She looked so comfy, just looking at her made me sleepy myself. Even better, Pam had muted the movie before she dozed off, so I couldn't focus on what they were saying to stay awake. So I fell asleep.

When I woke up, I was half way across scooted across my favourite couch cushion, and Eric's huge, heavy arm was draped across me. He was laying behind me. And he was wide awake.

"You stole my spot again, Miss Stackhouse." He breathed, into the back of my neck as well, giving me goose bumps all over my body.

"First in, best dressed"

He snorted at me. And I sat up, I really needed a shower, I probably smelt like champagne and morning breath.

"How long were you lying behind me anyways?" I asked. I rolled over so I could see his reaction. He blinked innocently.

"An hour. I was only meant to be here for 2 minutes, but this spot mixed with your warmth was a pretty good combination. I couldn't get up." He flashed his teeth at me, they were perfectly straight, and they gleamed. "We should just share this spot by the way, I prefer it with you."

My heart skipped. How flattering. My most famous memory with Eric was fighting with him over this spot, and not even 5 years later, he was offering to split it. He'd finally learnt how to share.

I smiled at him and stood up. Not only did I need a shower, I also needed to pee. I hoped the bathroom was clean from the morning sickness event this morning, but it unfortunately wasn't. She'd done her best at bleaching the toilet bowl and scrubbing the tiles, but poor Pam had forgotten to rinse the bleach, leaving stickier, clean smelling vomit.

I picked up the towel and toothbrush that were placed next to the bed that I woke up in and walked out to Eric.

"Mind if I use your shower?" I asked, stepping into the room. He hadn't taken up my half of the cushion yet, but he'd bought a pillow over to prop his head up on.

"Go ahead, but mind the step, it gets slippery."

Alright. I went back into Eric's room and walked through to get to his ensuite. It was massive. Everything was glistening white. Everything was in perfect order. He had his toothpaste in the shower which was a good thing. He had a neutral body wash and a manly one, which was also good, and he had the best shower head, I had ever been under in my entire life. I usually spent at least 15 minutes, washing scrubbing, massaging or shaving every inch of my skin that needed the attention. But this morning it was a get clean, get out unfortunately. I thought I just continuing to visit Eric's however, just for his amazing shower.

I dried off in a giant white fluffy towel and put my dress from the previous night on. O decided to go panty-less, since I didn't think of bringing another pair, so I put the white lace panties on top of the washing pile that was building up, and decided I'd put the machine on now, and save the man having to do it later on.

I found the laundry pretty easy, and the washing powder was right above the machine. The machine was already preset to the settings, so I put a load of whites on. I heard footsteps come into the laundry so I stood up tall quickly and tuned around to meet Eric's eyes. They looked amused, and his lips were turned up in a smile.

"You didn't have to do that, you know," he laughed. "I may be a man, but I do know how to do my own laundry."

I raised an eyebrow at him and took held the washing powder box out for him. "Is that so?" I asked.

He nodded and took it in his hands. "What's wrong with this?"

I smirked. "It's a top loader powder, you have a front loader machine, you need a different powder, or they'll be too many bubbles for the machine,"

He frowned at the box and walked out with it. I followed him, knowing that the coloured clothes still needed washing and watched him throw the box in the bin. I chuckled at him. He was throwing a temper tantrum over washing. He grabbed his car keys and headed towards the front door. He turned around to look at me.

"You coming?" he asked. I took a step forward before thinking.

"Pam?" I asked.

"Passed out." Was all he said. I slipped on my shoes and grabbed my purse, which were both conveniently placed next to the front door. We walked out to his car, which I hadn't noticed before, was a very nice, shiny red Corvette. Oh golly, thank goodness I didn't throw up in it last night. I don't even remember getting home. He held the door open for me, and a graciously stepped in. He closed it behind me and was in the driver's seat.

"Where are we going?"

"To get "front loader" washing powder."

I laughed out loud, and the sound of my laugh was amazingly cheery considering the amount of champagne I had the night before, and how early I had woken up.

I noticed that Eric and I matched in what we were wearing. I was wearing my spanking new, white strapless cocktail dress. But it didn't have symmetrical cut-outs and low necklines like the rest of the party-goers' last night. He was wearing a white, button-down shirt, and knee-length khaki's. With thongs.

I noticed how tall I felt when we pulled up the grocery store and I stepped out of the car with my stupid heels. But I felt much better when Eric had stepped to my side. He offered my his arm, and I grabbed it quickly, taking advantage of the extra balance he would provide. His arms were huge, I didn't notice them before, as they're in proportion to the rest of him, but you couldn't tell underneath the long-sleeved shirt he was wearing last night, just how defined his muscles were. They were big, but not too scary; I was tempted to run my finger along the contours of them, just to see if they felt as good as they looked. But his skin was soft, I could tell as much from the grip I had on him.

As we entered, he picked up a basket and hung it on his free arm. I had no idea what isles where which, so he led the way to the cleaning products. I could feel eyes on the back of my head watching the tall, handsome and blonde man walk gracefully through a shopping centre with me. When I looked back at the eyes, I was met with the faces of middle-aged women, who had nothing better to do that gaze dreamily at Eric. Oh please. He was too good for all of them. He needed a Heidi Montag, or Paris Hilton on his arms. That's what he deserved. I stuck my nose in the air at that thought before I realized it unsettled me. I didn't like picturing Eric with other women. He deserved better than anyone there was. Him and Pam were raised well, they had good intentions when it came to wanting things, and they used their manners.

Not to mention that Eric was sweet enough to offer not only his sister, but his sister's friend as well, a bed for night. He was lovely enough to take me out to dinner, when it was obvious that as a person who cooked all day, party food didn't interest me. And he was polite enough to stick around through that dinner, even though he was in charge of the party he had abandoned... for me.

Hell… Eric was a saint compared to most men. My most recent ex had none of Eric's qualities. He wasn't sweet; he was nasty to anyone who treated him to a lower standard of which he expected. Intentionally or not. He wasn't lovely; he talked so lowly of people, that you'd think he was the King, not just a computer salesman. And God forgive me if Bill Compton was ever patient, I'd never seen him stand in a queue for more than a minute. But then again.

My most recent ex-boyfriend, Bill wasn't faithful either. And if you can't trust a man enough to keep his penis in his pants, you can't really trust him to do much.