Hi everyone!

This story is exactly what you think it might be. An ode to Eric Northman. I am sorry, but I can't get over him so I had to write about him. And buy all of the books Charlaine Harris wrote him into. This is a sort of AU, as I do pick and choose what happens from the show and I have added a few things of my own. It does not directly follow either the show or the books. I rated this T, but there is a lot of language along with certain themes that might make some people uncomfortable. I just wanted to warn you before you get too far into the story, and will continue to post warnings at the beginning of sensitive chapters. Otherwise, please try to enjoy this crap first chapter as an interlude to the ACTUAL good stuff.

Hang in there.

(Also, those of you who have been readers of mine before know that I love to make playlists. This is no different! All of the chapter names are song titles. I'll be posting the songs one at a time on Spotify, so there will be a link up soon. This chapter title comes from "The Sun" by The Naked and Famous).

- lightinside

01. | The Sun

"I didn't sign up for this shit." Lafayette Reynolds said, a little too loudly, as he dropped a moving box on a dusty living room floor. "When you said, 'come over' little woman, I thought you was inviting me for a cocktail."

Birdie laughed. "I'm sorry to have mislead you. A cocktail is coming up soon, if we can find my dishes." She promised. "Did Sam not tell you it was moving day?"

Lafayette shot the man in question a hideous glare. Sam Merlotte, as good-natured as ever, only shrugged and kept hauling boxes in from the truck outside. Birdie wanted to kiss him. In a platonic sort of way. She'd known Sam since high school, the same as the rest of her friends. He'd always been kind and patient – considerate. And he'd tricked Lafayette into helping her move in to her childhood home. The man was absolutely a god-send.

When Lafayette didn't move from his previous haul, Sam sighed. "Sorry." He said finally. That got Lafayette moving.

"You better believe you will be." He grumbled, pointing a manicured finger at the truck outside the front door. "You payin' for my next massage, Sam Merlotte."

Birdie sighed and shook her head. She checked her watch for the time: 4:15 p.m. in the blazing Louisiana afternoon. Sookie and Tara should have been arriving soon. They would want cocktails too, eventually. They would all need it, if they made it through the rest of the day. Every single item she owned was in that moving truck. Ten years' worth of memories and investments, and a very old sofa that she couldn't bring herself to get rid of.

She pretended not to hear Lafayette complaining as he helped Sam bring the thing in. It was falling apart and smelled slightly like old takeout, but it had been a fixture in her apartment since college. Birdie wasn't ashamed of it, but she knew it would have to be reupholstered very soon. This was a house – a far cry from a college apartment.

It was her house. Her mother wouldn't want some dinky sofa sitting in their old living room. She knew exactly what her mother would want. And what she would think of so-called 'modern' Bon Temps. Birdie sighed and started opening boxes, digging through for glasses and dishes. She went about her business as more boxes came in and Lafayette's swearing increased in frequency and volume as her two friends started hauling in the rest of the furniture. Birdie whistled to herself, making it a point to ignore the halfhearted dirty looks they shot her way each time they passed the kitchen with another nightstand or bookcase. By the time they started piggybacking a mattress up the stairs, even Sam was about to call it quits. Lafayette stormed into the kitchen, demanding water, and Sam sat down in the floor.

It wasn't long before he was totally horizontal and unresponsive.

Birdie raised an eyebrow at him, worried. "Are you alright? Do you need water? Tea? Electric shock?"

Sam raised an arm and shook his head. "Nah. I'm just getting a little old, I think."

Birdie snorted as Lafayette poured himself more water and gulped it down. "If you're old, what does that say about the rest of us?" Her friend attempted a laugh, but it rang true with exhaustion. Birdie realized she couldn't send them home like this. "If the girls ever get here, y'all just stay. They said they would bring groceries. There'll be food, if I can get the stove to work."

Sam raised his head. "Do you need me to look at it?"

"No!" Birdie said, answering a little too quickly. "You stay there. I can fix a stove."

Lafayette snorted. "Oh, honey."

"I can." She insisted, shooting him a dirty look. "How hard can it be, really?"

"Right." Sam and Lafayette chorused, rolling their eyes.

Birdie frowned. "Hush up." She said. "Just because I'm usually hopeless with these kinds of things, that doesn't mean I can't work a little magic."

"Baby girl, your bloodline don't have a drop of the stuff." Lafayette said. "You might as well sit your little self down with me and a mojito while the man of the house takes a peek."

Sam groaned. "I hope you don't mean me."

Lafayette blinked. "Do you know who I am? Do you think I mean me?"

"Stop your screechin'." Sam sighed. "I'm getting up."

"Stay where you are." Birdie ordered, pointing a glass jug at him as she drew it out from one of the boxes. "Breathe for a few minutes. We can all have a drink. And then make Jason take a look at the stove."

"Jason Stackhouse can't fix anything. Not even a decent game of poker." Sam retorted. "You'll be ordering takeout every night."

Birdie said nothing but couldn't stand the thought of eating burgers every single evening though Sam did run a fabulous establishment. With the burgers came the drunken or otherwise slovenly southern men that haunted the bar all day. She couldn't stand their attention. She'd forgotten that it would be one of the cons of coming back – of coming home. Birdie wondered if it was still the same as before, or if male harassment of female patrons had grown worse since vampires came out of the coffin. There were rings of drug dealers lurking in these parts of Louisiana. And now, in addition to powder, they had V. Birdie suppressed a shudder. Maybe this had been a mistake.

The weather had certainly been more agreeable up north.

"Earth to little bird." Lafayette waved a hand in front of her face, causing Birdie to start and nearly drop one of the glasses she held in her hand. "You thinkin' that hard, you'll hurt your brain."

"Missing the cold." Birdie plastered a smile on her face. "Here." She handed her friend a glass and gestured to the kitchen. "I assume you remember your way around."

"Yes ma'am, I do." He said with a cheeky grin and disappeared with a swish of his hips around the corner.

Birdie laughed softly to herself, chewing on her lower lip. It wasn't just the V that had her worried. Not the vampires. It was Bon Temps – it was the house. Sookie knew why she'd come home. Why there wasn't a ring on her finger anymore. None of the guys knew anything, and she wanted it that way. Lafayette had the biggest mouth in the entire parish. But Sookie was different – she kept to herself even though it didn't keep people from wondering about her. Through this practice, she'd developed an impressive instinct for discretion. And all Birdie wanted was to sit down with her friend and talk about the man she knew wasn't good for her, but that she missed terribly. As it was with everything that ended unexpectedly even if it had run its course.

She'd run straight home though there was no one there to comfort her. Birdie was thankful Sam and Lafayette had arrived with her. Facing her childhood home turned mausoleum would have been far too much to handle alone.

"You know somethin'?" Sam asked, startling her from her reverie. "You could come work for me, Bird. If you wanted."

"I appreciate the offer, Sam, but if one more dirty old man tried to grab me, I'm afraid that I would be going to prison." She said, grimacing. "I did the waitressing gig once. I don't know if I could stomach it again."

"Well, how about helping Tara behind the bar?" He brushed shaggy peppered hair from his eyes, still lounging in the floor. "Pay is good. Tips are better because of the tax."

"I'll think about it. Hoyt's mama put in the word at the salon for me. You know that no one says no to Hoyt's mama."

Sam laughed. Birdie couldn't help but laugh with him. Sam had the kind of laugh that made his eyes crinkle at the corners. The kind that made him look the way that Birdie remembered him as a child. Before her parents had died. She shook the thought away and forced herself to keep unpacking and turn away before Sam could see her smile fade and ask what was wrong. "You better believe I know it. Hoyt's mama is a mean old woman. Mean as a snake."

"With the power of old Bon Temps society behind her." Birdie reminded him. "If I can squeeze out of the salon job without riling her temper, my time is yours Sam Merlotte."

"Sounds like a deal, Bird." Sam said, grinning.

"What's a deal?" Lafayette asked, popping around the corner. "Why y'all having conversations I can't hear?"

Birdie scoffed. "Oh, go on." She said. "If you must know, I'm thinking about working for Sam again."

"Oooh, girl! This tired old town better look out. " Lafayette winked at Birdie from the doorway.

"Hush your mouth." She said, rolling her eyes. "Not waitressing. And while I'm thinking about it, please don't make me wear that ridiculous uniform. That's my condition."

For a moment, Sam looked almost ill with hope. His voice was edged with desperation as he spoke. "Deal."

"Then I'll risk the wrath of Mrs. Fortenberry for you. You've got yourself an employee." Birdie promised.

Sam crowed, jumping up from the floor with renewed vigor. Birdie kept a smile on her face, though she did dread having to face Mrs. Fortenberry. But nights at Merlotte's would be better than spending her days around cackling old hens at the salon. Lafayette seemed pleased enough but would never stoop so low as to go around whooping and hollering the way Sam still was.

"Where the hell are them girls?" Lafayette grumbled. "They's supposed to be supplying the drinks. Typical of 'em to be late. Especially now that there's somethin' to celebrate."

Birdie checked her wristwatch. "They'll be here. Just give them some time. If you're worried, I'd call Tara." She shook her head. "Lord knows that Sookie never answers her phone."

While Lafayette excused himself to the porch to take Birdie's advice to call his cousin, Sam sneaked into the kitchen to check out the stove. Birdie pretended not to see and took advantage of the quiet time to check her own phone. As she lazed about for the first time all afternoon, she heard a car coming down the long gravel drive to the house.

"It's Jason." Lafayette called from the porch. "Ain't no sign of that sister of his."

Sam poked his head out from the kitchen. "This'll take a while. Might ought to go outside and talk to Jason, see where Sookie might be."

"You got it, boss." Birdie said, smiling. Sam grinned as she disappeared from the living room and took up her post on the porch. The sun was going down now. Birdie would have been lying if she said she wasn't getting worried about Sookie. Jason's truck was flying down the drive, kicking up dust as it went, like he was in a hurry. He'd barely bothered to put the thing in park before he was stumbling out of it, breathless.

"Hi, Bird. Let's go, Bird, like now, Bird." He gasped, leaning against the door. Lafayette and Birdie both stood, gaping at him.

"Uh… hi, Jason." Birdie said slowly. "Where are we meant to be going?"

"Something came up and Sookie's probably got herself in trouble again. Her boyfriend, you know. Bill? His vampire spawn or whatever, progeny, took off somewhere and Sookie went to find her. I think she's at some vampire bar in Shreveport."

There were so many things in that sentence that Birdie just couldn't process, but there was one thing that stuck.

"Vampire bar?" Birdie asked.

"No. Uh-uh." Lafayette took the phone from his ear, wagging a finger at Jason. "She just got home. You don't need to be takin' her to that place."

Birdie's curiosity was raging now. "I can go." She said before she could think too much. "It's getting late, anyway. Someone should go get her."

"Jason can." Lafayette said firmly. "You don't want to go there."

"Is Tara with her?"

He sighed and shook his head. "No. She's workin'. Didn't bother to tell me earlier."

"Okay, so we'll go find Sookie and bring her back and we'll all have dinner after." Birdie was already moving toward Jason's truck. A vampire bar. Things really had changed around here. She tried not to look too eager as she climbed into the passenger side and leaned her head out of the window. "I promise, it won't take long."

"You keep your wits about you, hear?"

Jason hopped back into the truck and threw it into drive. The house was out of sight in under a minute. Birdie relished the way the wind whipped her hair around her face, closing her eyes against the light of the setting sun.

"A vampire bar." She murmured to herself, stuck on the idea of it, and then she turned to Jason. "What's this place called, anyway?"

Jason grimaced. "Fangtasia."