Disclaimer: True Blood and Southern Vampire Mysteries are the property of Alan Ball, HBO and Charlaine Harris. I'm just playing...

A/N: So sorry for the delay, I lost power for a week in the Oct. storm, and I've been playing catch up since. On the plus side, with no power or lights, I had nothing better to do than plot out this story, so I made good use of that down time.

Please note I have incorporated some characters who've been cast for next season in this fic, so spoiler alert. Of course, I have no idea how the show will use them.

This chapter contains a bit of lemon...

Also, thanks as always to Southernlady for her beta skills, and she should be happy...nekkid Eric.

Lafayette's front yard

The next few seconds passed in a dizzying flurry of activity. As soon as Russell's fangs hit her neck, Sookie's hands lit up bright as the sun and she sent her attacker flying backward. But she didn't see how far he went (15 feet) or how Bill fought ferociously to prevent the former king from pursuing her, because she was a thousand feet up in the sky and still climbing, She was going too fast to see anything at all.

Sookie gasped at the sudden loss of ground and the unnatural feeling of hurtling through the air like a rocket ship. Eric's arms were gripped around her waist from behind like a vice, leaving her arms and legs dangling and exposed to the air—and it stung like bitch. She tucked her head down as best she could to avoid the blistering wind, but air collided against her body like an onslaught of invisible needles. Her ears ached from the altitude and the sound of jetting through the sky was deafening. This was nothing like her dreamy notion of flying—soaring gracefully in the sky and watching the landscape unfold below, filling her with wonder. This was sheer misery. Abruptly, Eric shifted direction to level off parallel to the ground. The new position forced her whole body to slump over like a wet noodle, but he didn't slow down; he couldn't.

Eric knew his passenger was suffering; humans were not made to fly, especially not like this. Sookie would recover, but not if Russell caught up to them. His only advantage had been the brief head start he'd gained by the fairy zap and Bill's attack, which he doubted would slow Edgington down for long. Unfortunately, Eric's handicap was hanging in his arms beneath him leaving her enticing scent like a neon lit trail for Russell to follow. He would have to try to throw off their pursuer with drastic evasive tactics certain to take their toll on Sookie.

"I know this unpleasant for you, but it's about to get worse. I'm sorry," Eric apologized to Sookie, though he wasn't sure if she heard him.

The flying Viking shot upward again, circled back, and dove toward the ground only to zig-zag about and soar back up into the air. He moved up and down, back and forth and around again several times—filling the air with sweet fae aroma in every direction. Sookie had gone limp after the second dive and he supposed it was the best thing she could do.

Satisfied her scent had been sufficiently dispersed, Eric headed back to one of the small lakes he'd passed over and landed feet first in the shallow water near the shore—Sookie still unconscious in his arms. He heard their deadly hunter zooming past in the night sky, but the lake was surrounded by a thick cover of trees, ideal for hiding from a bird's eye view. Spotting a grove of trees with thick, leafy limbs hanging over the water, Eric scooped Sookie up, quickly carried her over to its muddy bank and set her down in the muck to mask her telltale fragrance.

Sookie came to with a jolt when her body registered the shock of frigid water lapping over her legs to her waist. Her head was pulsing with a searing, blinding pain and without warning the contents of her stomach decided to come up and join the fun. She jerked forward with a retching cough and felt Eric's hand grab her shoulder, preventing her from falling in the water as she vomited up her last meal.

"Bleh," groaned Sookie at the taste of her own bile, but it was a pretty apt description of how she felt overall. Every inch of her seemed to ache and her skin had been blown dry and raw.

"You'll feel better in a moment, I promise. Drink," she heard Eric's tender voice coaxing before feeling his forearm press against her lips—her vision still straining to return.

Disoriented, she took his blood without hesitation or argument—much to her donor's relief—allowing the crimson elixir to work its magic. With her senses returned to normal, vision cleared, skin healed and stomach settled, Sookie leaned back with a sigh into Eric's firm chest and giggled softly to herself.

"And what strikes you as humorous, may I ask?"

"Well...for one thing, I didn't even know you were behind me until I leaned back. Jeez, I never want to do that again. I thought my skin was gonna rip off, and my ear drums would burst. Super Man you are not."

Eric was grinning now, enjoying the unexpected pleasure of having Sookie resting between his legs. "Was there a 'thank you' in there somewhere? Because my eardrums are working perfectly, and I don't think I heard one."

"Hah! It was your turn anyway. I recall literally pulling your ass out of the fire a few hours ago, so we'll call it even," Sookie sassed playfully, giving Eric's knee a smack before she leaned forward to get up. "Thanks for dumping me in mud and cold water, though. I'm freezing!"

She was yanked back too quickly to register, Eric's hand covering her mouth. "Shhh," he whispered in her ear, just as Russell Edgington went flying by high above them—taking his sweet time in his search.

Sookie's heart was beating so hard she worried he might hear it, but the lunatic king kept on going.

They sat frozen in place for several minutes, waiting to see if Russell would come back and when it seemed unlikely he'd return, Eric let Sookie free.

"Can I get up? I really am cold," she asked quietly, still too spooked to move.

In lieu of answering, Eric stood up—pulling Sookie up with him—then set her down with ease on the dry part of the bank. Almost immediately, she began to shiver and her teeth started chattering—clickity,click,click—making her feel doubly ridiculous.

Eric could not suppress a smirk, she looked adorable. He took off his leather coat and draped it over her trembling shoulders. "It's a bit muddy on the back, but dry. You might want to get out of those wet jeans—to stop rattling."

"I'm n-not r-r-rattling, I'm shh-shivering. My p-pants are stayin' on."

"Suit yourself," the unaffected vampire replied and then reached his hand inside the coat his chilly companion wore—giving her a start. "My phone," he explained patiently, pulling it out of the inside breast pocket. "I want to try calling Bill. Last time I checked, he was attempting to keep Russell at bay."

"He did? I c-couldn't see a th-thing. Oh, God, please let him b-be okay," Sookie prayed. With the high, high-speed chase and the mud, nippy water, and a major case of the goosebumps—not to mention a very tall, sexy Viking—she hadn't given her other ex a single thought. The guilt was raging.

Said Viking was frowning at his cell. "It went straight to voice mail."

"Dammit! What if he's hurt or dead? We have to do something, Eric." Somehow worry had overridden her stuttering.

Eric doubted Bill would charge to his rescue if the situation was reversed; the King would answer her the same way. "If he is hurt, he will heal. If he's dead, there's nothing we can do. I'm sorry."

That didn't sit well with Sookie at all. "So what? While Russell is out there on a rampage, we do nothing? What if he finds us? What then?" Another chill ran up her legs all the way to her earlobes and the shivers resumed.

"What we do is not get found—we survive. Beyond that, I am at a loss. I cannot fight Edgington alone and unfortunately, he didn't escape on his own; he had help. Until I know who is behind this, there is nothing to do except wait."

In defeat, Sookie sank to the ground and hugged her knees, trying to keep warm. "I guess we wait then."

Lowering his lanky frame, Eric sat down beside her and extended his arm in invitation for her to take some comfort there. She wearily accepted, leaning into his awaiting embrace.

Jason's House-Exterior

"Man! That's crazy. I don't know if I believe you or not, Newlin," Jason shook his head, clutching the rifle on his lap. His visitor sat a few feet away in one of the lawn chairs—they looked like two good ol' boys enjoying an autumn night.

"It's the God's honest truth, and I have to stop it."

"Let me see if I got this right. There's a um...faction of vamps called the Nationalists, who want to take over the world, and they got the uh...means to do it. Now you're on a mission from the Lord to keep it from happening. Shoot, guess bein' a vampire didn't change you at all, did it?"

"Oh, Jason, you don't get it at all. Before I became one of the undead, I believed all vampires were Satan's spawn and should be wiped out of existence—all of them. I know I was wrong now; vampires are good, bad, and in between—just like people. But this cabal...pure evil and they're about to make their move—maybe already have."

"Uh-huh. Good luck with all that, and you can count me out of whatever crazy plan you're hatchin'."

"When good men do nothing, evil prospers," Steve replied, sounding more like a preacher.

Indignant, Jason put his hand over his heart. "Hey! I do my part; I'm a deputy sheriff and I do other good stuff all the time—most of the time."

Reverend Newlin frowned; this wasn't going well at all. As much as he had initially objected to the idea of seeking out Jason Stackhouse, now he was equally convinced his former protégé was indeed the right man for the holy task the Lord had set before him. But Jason had no such conviction, and he didn't know how to persuade him without revealing too much. The whole truth was even more unbelievable than the parts he was allowed to discuss—he'd sound more insane than he already did. Besides all of this, the new born vampire wasn't entirely clear on how he was going to accomplish his mission. Steve said a silent prayer asking for a sign and more patience.

"Deputy, huh? That is fantastic, Jason, it really is. What made you decide to pursue a career in law enforcement?" Steve asked, feigning interest in hope of keeping Jason talking until the Lord provided an answer to his dilemma. The answer came in the form of a phone call on Jason's cell.

Pulling the device from its holster on his hip, Jason looked at the caller ID and answered, "Sook?"

Steve thanked God for vampire hearing as he heard Sookie speak. "Jason, I know it's late, but I wanted to warn you. Russell Edgington is after me and Eric..."

"Whoa, hold up! You mean he ain't dead? Shit, Sook. Are you okay?"

"I'm okay. I'm not too sure about Bill, though," she paused for a beat before going on. "He probably won't come after you, but just stay on your toes, 'kay?"

Jason nodded and frowned when he realized Newlin was listening with keen interest. "Always, and you do the same, sis. Good night."

He ended the call glaring at his unwelcome guest and put his hand back on the trigger. "What do you know about this, Newlin? You better tell me the truth or its wooden bullet time."

"It's the cabal...this is their big move, Stackhouse. Don't you see?" the targeted vampire answered with great excitement, unfazed by the gun.

His head hurt trying to put the pieces together, but it dawned on Jason if Bill was in trouble, then Jess could be too. He tried to call her, but she didn't answer. "Okay, here's how it's gonna be...I'll help you with whatever, but you gotta help me first."

His ever-present grin widened. "Deal," Steve agreed.

Bill's House

Cuffed in silver, Bill was led into his house by three burly vampire guards in standard issue black combat gear and ushered to his office. Seated at his desk was a stunning brunette vampiress he'd never seen, surrounded by more guards and on a nearby chair sat Jessica—unhappily chained in silver. Ruefully, he met his progeny's fretful stare and turned his gaze back to the woman occupying his chair.

"King Bill, I presume. I don't believe I've had the pleasure, I am Nora," she introduced herself as if they were at a cocktail party, speaking with a posh British accent.

The King bowed stiffly. "I don't believe we have."

Nora smiled wickedly and began thumbing through the papers on the desk. "I suppose I should thank you for ridding the Authority of Nan Flanagan. We do hate getting our hands dirty with this sort of thing, but it was time for her to go. She was a colossal bitch and a thorn in my side. Bravo!"

"You're with the Authority?" Bill was surprised to hear this revelation and wondered why she would help Russell Edgington.

Before Nora could respond, the devil himself strolled into the office. "Ooh, Bill! I love what you've done in here. Who's your decorator?" Russell snarked as he took in his surroundings.

"Your Majesty," Nora greeted him as she rose and gestured for him to take her seat. "Please have a seat. You must tell me what has become of sheriff Northman and the fairy."

Russell sighed heavily as he flopped himself into the chair. "The scoundrel managed to evade me. I was so looking forward to torturing him and tasting sweet, sweet Sookie again. I only got a drop before Northman whisked her away. Do you know it was the remembrance of her delectable flavor that kept me from losing my mind down there all those months? I'll have to thank her before I drain her—wouldn't want her to think I wasn't grateful."

"You bastard! Stay away from her!" Bill cried out, struggling against his bonds, only to be shoved to the floor by one of the guards.

Grinning with delight, Russell clapped his hands. "Wheee! Oh, Bill, you never fail to amuse."

Nora shrugged her shoulders and rolled her eyes. "Please take Mr. Compton and that red-headed step child of his to the holding cell," she directed the guards. Once they were gone, she turned to the ancient vampire at the desk. "I'm sorry you failed to capture them, but it doesn't matter in the larger scheme of things. Sooner or later you'll sink your fangs in the fairy, and trust me, I can handle Eric. You have to be patient, Russell; it's all coming to fruition. Just a few more details to attend to and you will be Emperor."

"I do like the sound of that—Emperor Edgington. Or Russell the Great, perhaps? No, I guess that would be a bit much. Oh, my! What a night this has been! I've been set free and handed the world on a platter. Where has Salomě gotten off to? Mind you, she's no Talbot, but a worthy substitute for now. She was a bastard child of Caesar when I made her—appropriate, don't you think?"

Nora gave him a placating nod. Keeping the deranged despot focused was proving to be quite the challenge. "Salome is procuring your next meal; she'll be back soon. Shouldn't we try calling Eric?"

Russell made a sweeping hand gesture and stood up. "Pfft. Didn't you just tell me to be patient? There's only a few hours left before dawn, and I plan to spend that time getting reacquainted with my child. It will be the perfect end to a most delightful day. We can deal with the good Sheriff tomorrow, first dark. Unless you aren't as confident as you claim about your ability to handle him. Is that it?"

"No, of course not. Forgive me, Your Highness, I daresay I am a bit anxious and impatient myself. This has been a long time coming. But you are right, it can wait a little longer. By all means, enjoy yourself. You deserve it," Nora said, bowing in obeisance.

"Yes. Yes I do indeed," Russell agreed, quite pleased. He moved from behind the desk and sashayed towards the door. "Good night, Nora."

Bellefleur Mansion

The house was dark when Terry and Arlene got home after a long night at Merlotte's, so they entered quietly and spoke in hushed tones.

"Come on in, Patrick," Arlene whispered to their guest, who stood warily on the porch peering inside.

Patrick hadn't uttered a word when they pulled up to the old estate, but he couldn't contain his awe any longer. "Whoa! You live here? I'd of never pegged you coming from money, dude. Impressive."

Terry's face ran through a gamut of emotions—confusion, embarrassment, surprise—finally settling back to his usual genial acceptance. "Yeah, well...get in here, Sarge!" Terry ordered, putting his arm around Patrick's shoulders and escorting him indoors.

"Thank you so much for having me. You sure your aunt won't mind? I don't want to be a burden," the officer asked while taking in his surroundings.

"Nah, you are an honored guest!" Terry assured, giving Patrick's shoulder a squeeze.

"That's right. And besides, that old biddy is half in the bag most of the time, she probably won't even notice," Arlene added her two-cents sarcastically.

"Arlene!" Terry scolded, finally removing his arm from his buddy.

His better half put her hand on her hip, not a bit ashamed. "You know it's true, darlin'. Anyway, if I don't get this zombie makeup off right now, I swear I'll turn into one 'cause I am dead tired. You won't mind getting Patrick all settled in, hon?"

All traces of the displeasure Terry felt only seconds ago vanished when she called him darlin'. "I got it, you go on. I'll be with you in a few."

Arlene scurried off, relieved to get away from the two Army pals—her encounter with Rene still fresh in her mind. Terry led Patrick upstairs to a guest room, creeping past his aunt's bedroom like he was on point in a maneuver.

"Hope you'll be comfortable in here, Sarge," Terry said nervously when he turned on the light in the room.

Patrick smiled and tossed his duffel bag on the floor by the intricately carved mahogany bed—a relic of better times for the Bellefleurs'. "This will be great, really. I'm just happy to be here, my friend. I am in your debt and hopefully I can find a way to pay you back. You go and join your wife now. I'll be fine."

"Yeah, okay. But you don't owe me nothin', ya hear?" Terry told him before he left.

Alone, Sargent Patrick Devins kicked off his boots, switched off the light, and plopped down on the bed. Staring at the shadow play on the ceiling, his eyes started to glow with an unearthly red light. "You're wrong, my friend, I owe you everything."

Lake in the Woods

It was a perfect fall night, the best time of year in Louisiana. No stiffling hot, humid air, no pesky mosquitoes breeding and biting—just fresh crisp air. Air full of Sookie. They had been sitting quietly for a while, but keeping his cool while holding the sweet-smelling fairy was becoming impossible for Eric to maintain. She was resting comfortably against his chest—nearly asleep—as he stroked her hair. He filled his nostrils with the scent of her hair and kissed the top of her head three times. Sookie wiggled and sighed—an invitation to continue? He didn't know; he could feel her vacillating between desire and distress like it was his own heart on a see-saw. Up, down—yes, no—she needed to make up her fucking mind and he was determined to help her do it.

Eric gently eased them back to lie on the soft grass, raising her position slightly in the move and giving him easy access. He felt her go tense for a moment before she relaxed again. If she thought he could contain himself like this, she was crazy. He resumed caressing her hair, bringing his hand lower each time to touch her shoulder and arm, planting gentle kisses on her forehead now and then. It was nice; it was chaste—it was not enough.

With only a growl to warn her, Sookie suddenly found herself in a passionate lip-lock on top of one very aroused vampire. He had her locked in his arms as he kissed her with abandon while grinding his erection against her most sensitive spot. She couldn't help but let out a moan—everything felt way too good. Eric took her ecstatic noise as a cue to increase his attentions and started moving at an impossible speed beneath her—creating an exquisite swell of friction just as quickly. She climaxed, in spite of the jean barriers, with an involuntary shudder and loss of breath, then turned into a rag doll in his embrace.

Eric had slowed down his hips to a lazy rotation, giving her a breather before round two. But the break was enough to bring Sookie back to her senses.

"Let me go," she spoke gently but firmly.

She felt him still beneath her, but he didn't release his hold. "Why?" he asked.

Irritated now, Sookie pushed herself free, though Eric could have easily kept her there. "You know why, Eric. We are over."

He propped himself up on his elbows and watched her sit and hug her knees. "Do you love me?"

"You know the answer to that, too. Stop it!" She was growing more annoyed and uncomfortable by the second.

"Very well, I'll stop asking questions I already have answers to and just say it straight," Eric cautioned while he moved to sit down next to her. "It's not over. We love each other. It's not over until that is no longer true."

There was a pain in his voice that made her heart ache, and Sookie knew she was the cause. "I'm sorry, Eric, but it isn't that simple. Please don't do this, just let it go—let me go."

"I cannot let it go. For me, it is simple. Make a choice. If it's Bill, then I will abide by your decision; I will deal. But to not choose is only making everyone miserable. Why make us all suffer? Perhaps your age doesn't allow you to appreciate what a rarity it is to find love since you can so carelessly walk away from it," he told her bitterly.

"That's not true! It's killing me. I hate this." Tears were flowing again in a day that had already had its full share.

Eric reached out and swiped his thumbs under her eyes and frowned when he saw what a futile gesture it was. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you cry."

Sookie took one of his hands and cupped it to her face. "I know, it's okay. You have every right to feel how you do. I wish I could make a decision without hurting anyone."

"You can't. All I'm saying is, until you know what or who it is you want, leave the door open. I believe you will figure it out, but not if you shut the door and walk away. Don't you think Bill and I deserve that much?" he asked, running his finger along her hairline and pushing a stray lock behind her ear.

He was being so gentle, a trait of his she found hard to resist. "I...I guess. Yes. But what am I supposed to do? Date you both? Would you be okay with that? I wouldn't be, and I know I would feel wrong if I was having sex with both of you—all fantasies aside. In reality, I couldn't."

"I didn't say anything about dating or sex. I said leave the door open; see what happens. You are thinking too conventionally in a situation which defies convention. Just go with it and see where you end up. I trust your heart to lead you well, don't you?"

Trust her heart? It was the kind of advice everyone gave, even Gran. Her heart had led her to fall in love with two vastly different vampires. "My heart is idiotic, I don't trust it at all. But the rest of what you said makes sense; I should keep an open mind."

It was a small victory, but enough to elicit a genuinely warm smile out of Eric and another peck on her head. "It's not over then?"

"No, it's not. I guess it never was, was it? But you knew. I feel kind of stupid now," Sookie admitted.

"No. You made a rash decision and I was able to talk you out of it. A stupid person wouldn't have listened. Come here," he demanded, pulling her onto his lap. "I want to finish what I started."

"Eric!" Sookie cried, more out of surprise than objection. He was breathing kisses in the hollow of her neck, giving her shivers—not from the cold—and she was on the precipice of losing coherent thought.

"Mmmm, oh, good Lord! I thought you said...mmm...something about...ooh...no sex," Sookie managed to say through the barrage of ravenous kisses and titillating touches assaulting her.

Her assailant was not about to stop for mere conversation's sake; he was on a singular mission. He answered her with the same stalled speech. "I would never...rule out...sex. But...if...you want me...to stop..." Eric made another sudden move, placing Sookie on flat on the ground with her legs wrapped around his hips as he knelt over her and then he finished his thought. "I suggest you tell me, right now."

"You're manipulating me," Sookie pointed out, though her body was crying out for him to keep going.

"Maybe a little," he acknowledged truthfully. "I am helping you recognize what you want. Our bond is strong now; I can feel your desire, Sookie, and your fear. I want you see you have nothing to be afraid of—not from me."

"I can't help it. Even though I know the man I fell in love with is still in there, it's different. You said it yourself; you are more now—a thousand years worth of more. It's the 'more' that scares me."

Eric hadn't touched her during this exchange but now he let his hand slowly travel along the length of one of her legs as he spoke. "Yes, and excites you. A thousand years of carnal knowledge I didn't have when we made love before—all for your benefit." He stilled his hand, turning serious. "Listen to me, I have just as many years of practice in the art of seduction and I could probably talk you into anything if I wanted. But I don't want that. I love you and all I want is..."

"Shhh," Sookie interrupted his speech and pulled him forward with her legs. "Show me."

Camera P.O.V.-Montage

In the cell in Bill's dungeon, Jessica is hunched on the floor while Bill paces the room.

Two guards stand watch.

Outside of Bill's house, Steve Newlin walks purposely on the grounds and is apprehended by guards at vampire speed and taken inside. He is thrown at Nora's feet in the foyer. She shakes her head and gestures to the guards to take him away. They drag him through the basement door as she watches in amusement.

At the cemetery, Pam is standing at Tara's temporary grave. She kicks the dirt in disgust and turns to look at Ginger, who waves from the driver's seat of her Plymouth. Pam checks her watch—3:00 am—and rolls her eyes. It's too early to go to ground.

Back in the jail cell, Reverend Newlin is greeted with disdain by his cell mates. They hiss and snap out their fangs and Steve grins wide—showing his fanged teeth. Bill and Jessica are both stunned, but Newlin doesn't notice; he is digging something out of his pocket. Casually, Steve walks to the corner of the cell and grabs hold of the bars. He smiles at the guards, who are watching TV in the lounge and pay him no notice. In each hand, Steve has palmed a small tube of corrosive gel and he quickly but methodically squeezes it out as he runs his hands down the steel bars. He's managed to get the goo on four of the metal barriers and a bit on his palms—which are blistering already. Grinning through the pain, he unties the lavender sweater from around his neck and nonchalantly wipes his hands.

Moonlight reflects off the lake and crickets chirp as Sookie and Eric writhe naked together on the muddy shore. They both get covered with muck as they continue to roll around in their sensual mud wrestling match. Sookie sits up, still undulating astride her sullied steed, who lifts his muddied hands to cover her breasts. She leans forward, scooping up a handful of goop and giggles as she smears it on Eric's face. A wicked smile crosses his soiled lips and in a nanosecond he is standing thigh deep in the lake with Sookie still attached. After a few fierce thrusts, he shakes her loose and lets her drop into the water.

End Montage

Lake

Whoosh.Cool, brisk water rushed over her skin, instantly chilling more than her body temperature; Sookie was fuming mad when she stood up a dripping muddy mess—ready to let Eric have it. Except Eric was nowhere in sight.

"Dammit, Eric! Where are you? This isn't funny!" Sookie griped as she searched in the darkness for some sign of the offending vampire.

"Boo!" bellowed Eric when he popped up from the water and grabbed her from behind, eliciting a surprised shriek out of Sookie.

Pointlessly, she wriggled to free herself from his waterlogged grip and gave up when he started to nibble on her earlobe. "You bastard! You dumped me in the lake!"

"Mmmm, after you shoved mud in my mouth. It seemed a fitting response and besides, we both were in need of a bath," Eric's sultry voice murmured in her ear, resonating through Sookie's entire body—making it difficult for her to maintain her angry stance. "You still have mud all over yourself, would you like me to help clean it off?"

"No way, buster. You've done enough," Sookie answered with her usual sass; her mood greatly improved.

With some disappointment, Eric let the wet telepath go. "Not even if I promise to be good?"

Turning to face him, Sookie considered the idea having this undead Adonis bathe her and reconsidered. "Okay, but be nice!"

Eric deftly washed her off, his nimble fingers gently running through her mud-caked hair as he held her over the water. He was so adept and sure, Sookie was certain he'd done this before but she didn't want to spoil anything by asking him about it. Water trickled in tiny rivulets from Eric's cupped hand down to her neck, over her nipples and slid from her taunt belly back into the lake. His hand played along her skin as he sought out any residue he may have missed and Sookie was reveling in the sensation. At some point, they both forgot all about bathing. It was a toss up between their mud romp and their aquatic play for Sookie, but Eric's glory was in the water—he could happily screw her 'til dawn there. But Sookie's gator paranoia and goosebumps made him move to dry land to continue in their frollic.

Not too far from shore, he found a cozy patch of soft, dry terrain covered with fallen leaves amidst a copse of trees—an ideal spot to stay hidden short of any real shelter. They could make love till the break of day and then Eric could go to ground, if Sookie was agreeable.

"You'll have to sleep here, I'm afraid, but there's still time to seek shelter elsewhere if you wish. We would have to stop, though." Eric offered the alternative while using his fingers' vampiric abilities like a vibrator to pleasure her.

"Don't you dare stop! Oh my sweet Jesus! Your fingers are...ahhhhh" Sookie wailed, bucking against his hand.

After another series of orgasms, Sookie felt utterly spent and was grateful the sun would be rising before long. Fairy or not, she desperately needed to sleep and she couldn't stifle her yawns. Eric cursed the daylight, wishing for more time or at least a light-tight room. Resigned, he got up and retrieved his shirt and coat from the pile they'd left near the shore—relatively dry—and gave them to Sookie.

She gave him a questioning look as she took the clothes. "Put them on, I won't need them underground," he explained and watched as she groggily complied.

Settling down next to her, Eric let Sookie use his lap as a temporary pillow. "Thank you, Eric. You outdid yourself and I am a very lucky fairy," she mumbled before falling asleep.

He couldn't have been more gratified or felt cockier than he did in that moment.

It wasn't the late morning sun, or the noisy birds and buzzing insects that woke Sookie. It was her own name being called and a nudge on her shoulder that brought her out of her stupor.

She blinked open her eyes and strained to adjust to the bright light of day before she recognized who had roused her. "Grandpa Earl?"