Chapter 2

Men shouted out orders and fireman moved with caution towards the rubble. Many were afraid that other bombs would detonate because the building had been taken down with a series of strategically placed bombs that went off several seconds apart. All had been quiet for a few minutes so the rescue crews moved in in the hopes of finding survivors.

Sensing the voids of the vampires and the mental screams of the humans I had to do something. My very nature caused me to be proactive.

"Sam, get Eric out of here to someplace safe. I'm going to see what I could do to help," I declared and without waiting for his input crossed the street.

Several policemen tried to stop me, but I was bound and determined to offer my assistance and ducked under the tape into the wreckage. Needing all the hands available the officers were not in a position to run after me.

Closing my eyes I concentrated hoping to 'hear' survivors. The first one was close by but the challenge was getting anyone to believe me. Unable to lift the heavy stones myself I searched for someone, anyone who could offer me assistance.

"Sir, please there is someone under the rubble over there. Help me!"

I raced around like a madwoman screaming those words at anyone who would stop for even a moment. After about two minutes, which seemed like an eternity when lives were at stake, a fireman commanded, "Lead the way ma'am!"

I brought him and another over to the spot where I knew the human to be. A surge of blinding determination coursed through my body spurring me into action. Once I was convinced they would continue without my assistance I moved on, sensing another person.

This one happened to be a vampire.

Racing over to the Rescue Station that was in the process of being setup I grabbed a few blankets. Not knowing if it was enough to keep the deadly sunrays at bay I silently prayed that it would be. I began again, shouting to get the attention of a rescue worker explaining that I found someone. Two firemen followed me in an attempt to assist.

Shoving the blankets at them I stated, "This one's a vampire. As soon as you begin to uncover his flesh you'll need these."

"Ma'am we're looking for human survivors first," fireman one retorted as he began to walk away.

"Vampires have as much right at life as we do! What if it was you under there and someone made the decision that you weren't worthy of life! How would you feel?" I shouted at the man grabbing his arm pleading to his sense of rightness.

He nodded his head taking the blankets from me and the two men got to work.

Glancing over to the men who worked on rescuing the first victim I noticed with relief they almost had him completely free from the rubble. Pride and accomplishment filling me knowing that I was using my powers for something good. Moving on to the next, I sensed the next person in need of rescue.

This went on for hours and after the firemen figured out what I could do they came to me hoping I could give them clues in finding more survivors. I trotted all along the wreckage with men hot on my tails that I'd guided to other victims of the tragedy.

Though I had never used my curse for such measures before, I saw what a blessing my disability could be. For the first time in my life I thanked God for my telepathy which allowed me to help all of these people.

Rescuing the vampires were the hardest. Under the rubble they were safe from the deadly rays of the sun, but as soon as the rocks chipped away by the rescue teams their skin began to burn. A worker would hold a blanket over the vampire in an attempt to provide a measure of cover while others worked to free him. The rescue teams set up a safe underground holding area stocked with blood for the vampires when they rose at sunset. The air smelt of blood, burnt flesh, and dust particles that kicked up from the crumbling concrete foundation.

************

After hours of leading the search efforts my exhaustion overtook me and I collapsed onto the pavement blacking out.

Vaguely was I aware of men shouting at me before moving me.

It could have been hours or days when I finally opened my eyes and peered around taking in my surroundings of the hospital room. Sam was sitting next to me grasping my hand.

"Sam," I choked out barely having a voice.

"Oh thank God, Sookie," Sam declared full of emotion as he threw his arms around me holding me tight. "Let me go get the nurse," he said as he hurried out of the room.

The nurse and two uniformed agents of some kind along with Sam entered the room. The one uniformed woman was probably in her forties with a bit of gray peeking through her chin length bob. The man was quite a bit younger, about medium height with black hair. The nurse checked my vitals and one of the agents introduced herself, "I'm Agent Sara Weiss and this is Special Agent Tom Lattesta. We have some questions that we'd like to ask you regarding what happened yesterday." Yesterday? I had been here in the hospital an entire day?

"Ok," I squeaked out not really sure how I was supposed to answer them.

"Were you staying at the hotel?" Agent Weiss asked.

"Yes I was."

"How did you get out of the building relatively unscathed?" she inquired.

"I heard an employee saying something about a bomb going off in a half hour. I tried to find the person, but they were gone. I instructed Sam, my boss to call the police while I pulled the fire alarm and rescued two vampires that were staying across from me."

The Agents looked at each other before Lattesta asked, "How did you manage to get two vampires out of the building?"

"I wheeled them out in a coffin," I stated matter-of-factly.

Agent Weiss continued, "We understand that you were instrumental in assisting the rescue crews yesterday. Explain to us exactly how you did that."

Hesitantly I answered, "Good intuition," I mumbled with a nervous chuckle.

"From what I understand that was no intuition, but clear knowledge of where the victims were located. From what information we gathered you helped over thirty people out alive and we want to know how you did it."

Scanning the minds of the two Agents I discovered that they believed that I was psychic and they thought with my talents I could help a lot of people. Never had I thought of using my curse for something good; a blessing in disguise my Gran would have called it. Maybe it was time that I changed my way of thinking about my disability and thing of it as an ability. A surge of emotion filling my being, it was the same feeling I had gotten looking for victims under the rubble. My heart rate sped up and adrenaline coursed though my system and I suddenly knew what I had to do. Now that I had tasted the sweetness of what I could to I needed to feel that surge of power again. The secret that I had so closely guarded my entire life had to be shared.

"No…not psychic," I said slowly letting my words sink in as their eyes widened in surprise. "Telepathic," I concluded.

"Sookie," Sam hissed in disapproval.

"No Sam, it's time I stop thinking of myself as having a disability and start thinking of it as an ability. What if I could've been on sight when the Twin Towers collapsed and guided the rescue workers to the people? It's time I start using my telepathy for something good." He remained silent and though I couldn't pick up his exact thoughts I felt fear radiating off him. I was appalled at him for his selfishness in wanting to keep my secret. Didn't he see what I could do? Didn't he realize all the people I could help?

"What exactly can you hear?" Agent Weiss asked.

This girl must be out of her mind. Who has ever heard of a telepath? There must be something else she's not telling us.

"Well for starters you just thought…" and I repeated everything back to her verbatim.

Her mouth gapped open and shock crossed her face. She said in utter astonishment, "You can read my mind!"

"Yes. Certain minds are harder and I haven't figured out why. Some people are just stronger broadcasters I guess. Oh, and I can't hear vampires at all."

She cocked her head to the side and asked, "So if you can't hear vampires how did you know where to find them in the rubble?"

"Their minds are like voids to me…almost like a hum. I can feel their presence, their brain signature if you will, but can't 'hear' a word from them. That's why I was excited to attend this conference because I had never met a vampire before. Usually minds consume me and I have a hard time controlling all the thoughts that filter into my head, but at the conference everything was virtually silent. For the first time in my life I could rest easy and relax, that is until I heard that one employee talking about a bomb."

Agent Lattesta stated, "We have to talk to our superiors, but I'm pretty sure they would agree that a person like you could be a great asset to this nation. Think about it and we will be in touch." He handed me his card and I picked it up almost with a sense of duty. Now that I knew what I could do and the power it enabled me to feel, I craved it.

As they walked out the door I stated, "I look forward to hearing from you."

Agent Weiss stopped and said, "This nation would be honored having someone like you looking out for the American people."

They left giving me a lot of food for thought.

*****************

The hospital released me the next day and when I went down to the billing department I was informed my hospital stay was already taken care of. Who would have done such a thing? In the words of Scarlett O'Hara, I'll think about that tomorrow.

Sam and I were able to head home the following day. When I walked into the door Gran had informed me that a Special Agent Lattesta called me asking me to call him back. Whipping out the card I immediately dialed his number.

"Special Agent Lattesta."

"Um, yes, this is Sookie Stackhouse ringing you back."

"Sookie, wonderful to hear from you. I trust you've had a full recovery?"

"Yes I did, sir."

"We'd like to set up an appointment with you in our New Orleans office for the end of the week. How does Thursday sound to you?"

"Sounds great. New Orleans?"

"Yes, we will have a car pick you up around nine o'clock."

"Great."

"Excellent. See you then."

I hung up the phone in awe. Never had I thought that my disability could be used for something good and now I was getting a chance at just that.

Shrieking with sheer delight Gran ran in the room and I wrapped my arms around her dancing in the middle of our living room. "Gran, I am so happy."

"What is it Sookie darling? Does it have anything to do with that Agent that called?" The look on Gran's face said it all; she thought I had a date.

"No, no…nothing like that," I said with a chuckle. "I'm going to get to use my telepathy for something good. I saved a lot of people when that bomb went off and the FBI contacted me. They want me to work for them using my ability." I couldn't get enough of that word ability. That four syllable word filled me with so much hope being able to use my powers for something meaningful. It meant something positive when my entire life it had been a negative.

She warned with worry trembling her voice, "Sookie, be careful. Men like that could only want to use you. Though I don't want to think badly of our government they are known for sucking the life out of people and I don't want to see that happen to your good hearted soul."

"I will Gran, I promise. Sam already read me the riot act all the way home saying that I should have kept quiet because they will use me for their purposes keeping me locked away. Gran, all my life I've lived with this curse and now I can use it to do some good. Saving people Gran, was like nothing I've ever felt. It made me feel good about myself, something I've never felt before," I implored her for understanding and permission. My Gran was the most important thing in my world and it was imperative that I had her support.

"If I had your gift, I'd feel the same way and would want to use it for good," her eyes softened as she said these words giving me what I needed.

"Thank you," I mumbled into her hair as I threw my arms around her.

*************

Thursday rolled around and I jumped out of bed with excitement lighting my eyes. Today was the day my life was about to change, I could feel it.

Ironing my best pants suit I got ready with nervous anticipation as I waited for the car that was supposed to pick me up and bring me to New Orleans.

Though I was a bit apprehensive about the meeting place because I had no desire to relocate, I hoped that we'd be able to reach an agreement. The ride was about five hours long giving me time to think about what part of my life I was willing to sacrifice in order to help others. Relocating was simply out of the question. There was no way that I could leave Gran even if it was to serve my country and use my ability in a positive way. If that made me a bad American I really didn't care. Being a devout Methodist I was commanded by God to take care of my aged parents, in this case grandparent and I loved her too much to leave her.

Could I quit my job working for Sam? Because of my disability I had a hard time maintaining employment listening to the thoughts of my prior bosses. On many occasions did I find those that employed me constantly thought of me in a derogatory fashion fantasizing about my boobs or other parts of my body. Sam's thoughts were slightly harder to hear; therefore, allowing me to be able to block him out with ease. I had worked for Sam for five years and it was the place I felt most comfortable besides home. As much as the thought pained me, if an agreement was reached, I'd do it, but if it was possible I wanted to keep my job out of loyalty to Sam.

I also thought about the capacity that I wanted to be used in. Disaster relief was an area that I thought my talents could best serve. That closely defined what exactly I wanted to do, help people, not condemn them. I was pretty sure that anything I learned through interrogation was not admissible in court, lots of Law and Order thank you very much. Putting myself in the minds of criminals was not a place I wanted to be. Anyways most people didn't think in terms of exactly what I wanted to hear like; I buried the bodies on the corner of East and Third Street. It didn't happen that way.

Never had I tried to really understand my ability and I knew that I would have to learn soon if I was to be of any assistance. Knowing from experience I did know that personal contact did strengthen my connection. But what gave me the right to choose to condemn one person and not another? God was the ultimate judge of crimes not me. If I planned on condemning a hardened criminal did I have to report a man viewing adult pornography at work? How about a man stealing office supplies? How about someone using the company's credit card to buy themselves lunch? Where would the line be drawn?

Nope, by principle along I refused to condemn anyone. I only wanted to use my ability for good.

We pulled up to the FBI headquarters in New Orleans. Surprisingly it looked more like a prep school than anything else with a red bricklike exterior and a wide white archway. The grounds proudly displayed the American Flag on a flagpole. A surge of emotion coursed through me almost compelling me to salute to our nation's icon.

As I marched up the stairs, my mind was made up. This telepathic barmaid had found her calling and wanted to feel that surge of power again using her ability for something good.

**************

I was led into a waiting area while I sat patiently. Plastered all over the walls were photos of America's Most Wanted. One particular series of pictures caught my attention, the Jefferson Davis Parish murders in Jennings, Louisiana. Vaguely did I recall hearing of the eight women that were brutally killed in the same fashion: all stripped of their clothing, either suffocated or strangled, and all dumped on rural roads near swamps. My heart went out to the families of these girls and nausea burned in the pit of my stomach thinking about the person responsible that was still at large.

Though I had adamantly convinced myself that condemning criminals through telepathy was wrong I couldn't help but shudder as I peered at the photos of the victims. Having brutal serial killers running loose in Louisiana didn't sit well with me.

Agent Weiss came out to greet me, "Sookie, so nice to see you again. Please follow me into the conference room. There are some people particularly interested in meeting you." As we walked she asked, "I trust the drive down went well?"

"Oh yes, I've never ridden in a car with a driver before," I answered earnestly.

We entered the conference room and she wasn't kidding me when she said people were here to meet me. The conference table sat at least thirty and every seat was filled save for two, mine and Agent Weiss'. She gestured for me to take one of the empty seats and I nervously sat down bombarded by all the minds in the room.

That's her?

I need to see this to believe it, there is no such thing as telepathy.

She read their minds? I better not think about certain things in front of her.

How can you crack down on National Security when people out there can read minds?

People like her are a breach to our Nation's security and should be locked up for conspiracy to commit treason.

She can help us get these criminals off the streets.

And the thoughts went on and on spanning from two completely different spectrums. On one hand half the people in the room wanted me to solve all the Nation's problems and the other half wanted me locked away in an insane asylum.

Plastering on my nervous, crazy Sookie smile I took the seat shown to me. The man at the head table spoke, "I am Special Agent Nev Welker, Director in charge of the New Orleans office. You know Special Agent Lattesta and Agent Weiss. Maybe we can go around the table and each introduce ourselves to Miss Stackhouse."

One by one the Agents went around the room calling out their names and rank within the Bureau, some with obvious more enthusiastic than others. The ones who wanted me locked away for example barely spoke audibly for me to hear. The ones more investing in having me onboard, spoke clearly and even spared a smile or two.

After the introductions were concluded Mr. Welker said, "This idea of telepathy is new to us and we wanted to test some of your barriers if that is acceptable to you."

"Ok," I squeaked out, being relatively nervous in a room full of people with thoughts swirling through my mind.

"I have something written down in front of me and I'll read it silently to myself. I want to see if you can repeat back to me what is on the page in front of me."

The man standing behind him peered over his shoulder at the words printed on the page. As Mr. Welker read the words they filled my mind.

The FBI is the lead agency for investigating violations of federal civil rights laws…and we take that responsibility seriously. Specifically we aggressively investigate and work to prevent hate crimes, color of law abusers, human trafficking, and freedom of access to clinic entrances violations - the four top priorities of our civil rights program.

I repeated each word verbatim as much as I possibly remembered but I was sure that I got most of it right when I saw the shock that crossed the man's face.

"That is astonishing," Agent Welker exclaimed. "Can you do that all the time?"

Trying to explain myself I answered, "Most of the time I try to block everything out. I've always viewed peeking into the minds of others as an invasion of privacy, but blocking one person is easy, blocking a room is…overwhelming. In a room like this everything is being thrown at me at once, but because you were specifically concentrating I was able to pick up exactly what you said."

"Does anything strengthen the connection to the mind? Agent Weiss said you had a few limitations."

"Physical contact strengthens my connection. When I go to touch someone for example I am flooded with their thoughts. Certain minds I can't read like vampires. Other minds are harder to read and I get more mental pictures and feelings. Those people I have no idea what sets them apart from the rest. I confess, mastering my telepathy is something I really haven't done. My whole life I've focused on blocking people out."

Agent Welker asked, "I have a specially trained Navy Seal here and I want to see if you can break into his mind. These guys go through extensive training to stand up to the toughest interrogation. Are you willing?"

"Yes Sir," I answered affirmatively.

A man was escorted in decorated in patches on his navy blue uniform. He walked with jerky movements lifting his foot off the floor much more so than the average person. Standing with a stone cold expression he waited in the room for direction.

"Alright Miss Stackhouse. See if you can read his thoughts?"

Waiting for the miraculous thoughts to shine through this stone cold man, I heard absolutely nothing. Not for lack of trying, but for him not thinking anything at all. Nothing was coming from his brain, not a picture, a hum, or even a snarling thought. Nothing!

"Agent Welker, he has to physically think of something in order for me to read his thoughts. He's concentrating on keeping his mind blank so that's all I'm getting. I bet though, if I touched him I could tell you what he had for breakfast."

"Alright then, go ahead," Agent Welker said authorizing me with permission. I walked with trepidation, moving one foot slowly ahead of the other because every eye in the room was upon me as I approached the soldier.

Placing my hand over his I was filled with images. Not only could I see what he had for breakfast, oatmeal with a side of blueberries, but I even gleamed how to take a P-90 apart and put it back together.

Dropping the hand of the soldier I recounted what I learned from his mind.

Over the next several hours they tested me with pictures, had me read different individuals, and even practiced directing the information I wanted by touch. I could tell how pleased and amazed the people were in the room. Those who had seen me as a threat to the Nation were now looking at my ability with possibilities. Most of the thoughts were leading to apprehending criminals which made me feel uneasy. We had yet to discuss exactly what sort of help they desired from me.

Mental and physical exhaustion was taking its toll on my mind and it was getting harder and harder to block individuals out in the room. The strain was making my head pound and I sought the mental relief of a quiet room.

I couldn't have been happier when the meeting was adjourned and the only ones left behind were Weiss, Lattesta, and Welker.

Welker addressed me, "Today has probably mentally exhausted you, but we needed to determine the depths of your mental abilities. I must say you are an impressive woman and I am completely amazed that someone like you exists. We wanted to offer you a position here at the Bureau for your telepathic services. You will need a bit of training because you are the most use to us as a field Agent. Agents Weiss and Lattesta will guide you through that training taking you on assignments with very little risk, getting you use to protocol."

Closing my eyes I knew that I needed to interject with my conditions before this discussion went any further. "Agent Welker, there are a few conditions that I must insist upon if I am to work with you." Looking up at him he nodded for me to continue. "First, I would only like to work with the Bureau on a contractual basis. If I'm needed for training for a few weeks that's fine, but I won't relocate to New Orleans. I have a home in Bon Temps and I won't leave my Grandmother. Secondly, I don't want what I can do public. If the media gets wind of my abilities I'll never be left alone and will always have someone knocking on my door looking for my help. Thirdly, I only want to work in a capacity where I can help people. I'm not God and I won't be used to condemn criminals."

"We can work around the first two, but ma'am the third one is where we need you the most." Welker showed me a picture of the eight women that had been murdered by the serial killer, the same women that were posted on the wall of the waiting room. "People who commit crimes such as these need to be taken off the street."

Calmly I reasoned, "Agent Welker, anything that I might 'hear' is not admissible in a court of law so why would you even want to taint your evidence? I hear everything, where do I draw the line with my loyalty? Do you want to know who's stealing paperclips? Do you want to know whose husband is having an affair? Do you want to know who's using the government issued credit card for their own purposes? I've never used my talent to snitch and I don't plan on starting to."

Agent Weiss exclaimed, "It's not snitching if you're taking violent criminals off the street! We could solve crimes more effectively with you."

"In all the years I've been hearing people's thoughts I never heard someone think where a body was buried. Most people don't give street addresses in their thoughts. Besides, isn't gathering evidence your job? If I did all the work, what would ya'll do? That's what ya'll are trained for not me." I knew that making a concession at this point would be a bad idea. The FBI planned on pushing my limits and if I gave them an inch, they'd take a mile.

This whole gray area was something that I'd have to think on and possibly pray about. I went to church paying my dues to God on Sunday and even went to confession, but praying was something I hadn't done in a long while. Why would God listen to the ramblings of a barmaid from Bon Temps? Surely his time would be better spent listening to the musings of more important people, our world leaders for example, but not me. Maybe prayer is something that I needed to start doing more. If people's lives were in my hands maybe he'd think me worthy of guidance.

Needing more time to search my heart and mind for what my conscience would allow I decided to make one final statement, "As of right now, that is my decision. I want my talents to be utilized in helping people and not playing God with their lives. This is what I'm willing to give to my country; take it or leave it." Our country thrived on a democracy and as American citizens we had rights. They couldn't force me into their employ against my will, could they? No, I disregarded that thought completely. America was built on the foundation of offering each citizen their Constitutional Rights and that hasn't changed since it was signed more than two hundred years ago.

Mr. Welker stated, "I have to talk to my superiors about this new development and will get back to you tomorrow before you leave the area. Once we have reached an acceptable agreement we can talk about field training." He stood up, as did I, taking that as my dismissal cue. The Agents had been much more friendlier when they thought they'd get more out of me than merely disaster relief.

Agent Weiss led me out the door I came in. Walking down the front steps of the building I once again had a surge of emotion course through me at the sight of the American Flag.

One of the things that our Constitution demanded was 'due process' of the law which guaranteed fairness, justice and liberty. Yes, I paid attention at school. So by violating someone's privacy by peeking into their heads was I denying someone of their rights? Didn't that violate the fairness clause?

As I reached the bottom of the steps the car door opened for me and I climbed inside. The driver pulled up outside of a Super Eight on Chef Menteur Hwy. Biting back a chuckle I wondered if I was supposed to stay at the Marriot, but got bumped to the Super Eight in a bad section of town when the agreement went south.

Not only was it in a bad section, but it wasn't within walking distance of practically anything. Everything was miles away! I would have thought that the FBI would have tried to lure me to their city by grand attractions and spectacular sights. But no, I got a drab hotel with homeless guys sleeping in the alleyway. Sighing, I knew that I had no right to complain. The FBI was paying for this trip and not me so I couldn't fault them for wanting to put me up in a cheaper hotel. At least the rooms were clean.

A bit nervous to venture out alone, not ever leaving Bon Temps until the Bartender's Conference (we all knew how well that went), I decided to stay in enjoying the hotel amenities. After the five hour drive and the several hours of mental interrogation on my ability, I was plum tired.

Meandering down to the restaurant I ordered myself a quiet dinner sipping a glass of wine. It felt a bit strange to be dinning alone; actually this entire affair seemed a bit strange and overwhelming. In just a few days time my ordinary life as a Bon Temps barmaid was rapidly changing. No longer was I ordinary, but highly coveted by the US Government. Never having gone to college and not expecting much out of life for myself I was thrilled at the prospect of the sudden shift in events. I finally found a place where I was accepted and not shunned for my ability.

I hadn't really thought much about that day, the day the hotel was destroyed. Didn't really have the time to let my mind wander and think about the most gorgeous man I'd ever met. What had compelled me to save him that day? I had only met Eric the night before briefly and watched him parade a girl into his bed chamber, why had I bothered? Immediately I knew the answer. It wasn't because I thought he would have done the same for me. In fact, I undoubtedly could guarantee that he would've let a mere human like me rot in the explosion. No, I did it because he could never have gotten out on his own.

When I pulled the fire alarm I knew that was my means of saving as many humans as I could, but the vampires would never have responded to the noise. How could I, in good conscience, walk away without helping him? Didn't God commission us to help the helpless?

Gran's values stuck out in my mind. Though we were very poor growing up, Gran always took it upon herself to bring something to those ill. She would always say, "Sookie, there are less fortunate people out there than us." No matter what it was, Gran always put the needs of others ahead of her own. She had instilled a sense of rightness in me. It was so ingrained that I didn't even second guess or hesitate when I made that decision. There was no question in my mind that I had to save Eric.

Even when he mentioned his child, (I didn't know vampires could have children) I didn't balk, but acted.

I finished up my dinner feeling very satisfied with my actions over the last few days. Feeling a sense of…pride, I was elated for the first time on what I could do. My curse had indeed turned into a blessing.

***********

After swimming a bit in the pool I hung out in my room and watched a movie on television. Going to bed by ten I woke up the next morning to a phone call from Special Agent Welker asking if he could join me for breakfast.

Making my way down to the restaurant I fought back a mixture of feelings: anticipation, excitement, nervousness and fear to top everything off. Fear of trying something new with my life. Fear that I would be pushed to use my abilities past my conscience zone, the limit at which point I would drift from helping people into gray areas of condemning them.

Welker was already seated at the table looking over some paperwork. Taking the seat across from him I greeted the man, "Good morning, Agent Welker."

"Good morning Sookie. I spoke to my superiors and they agreed that it would be better to employ you in the capacity you specified than lose your talent completely." Scanning his thoughts I saw the true intent behind the meaning.

Once she gets a taste of exactly the kind of cases we deal with, she will be compelled to help. What person saves the lives of many at the risk of their own? All the kidnappings and child molesters, she won't be able to stop herself from using her ability.

Silently I knew he was right, but without alluding to the fact that I knew his intent I nodded my head and waited for him to continue.

"Sookie we have decided to employ you as an independent consultant for the United States of America. The initial training will take about two weeks in which you'd have to stay here in New Orleans. I know that you want to keep your residence in Bon Temps, but the government will provide a residence here in New Orleans for you, a government issued car, traveling expenses, and a salary. Our lawyers have drawn up a contract for you to look over and as soon as it's signed we can begin training you for field work."

A car? The Government is providing me with a car? The shock must have been evident on my face for I had never anticipated such an offer. Clearly I was in high demand. This telepathic uneducated barmaid was given the chance at a bright new future.

"That is a most impressive offer," I babbled. I felt like jumping for joy screaming yippee, but I thought that might make the good Agent take the offer off the table sending me to an insane asylum.

Barely touching my food I listened to what he could tell me about my new position. More would be revealed once I made the final commitment and signed the contract.

The car was picking me up at eleven, which was checkout time, to bring me back home to Bon Temps. I had about an hour to sit down and go over the contract.

The legal jargon gave me a headache and I did something I had never done before, opening the phonebook I called a lawyer. Not having any kind of experience with this kind of thing I scoured the phonebook looking for an ad that caught my eye. One finally did, Mr. Cataliades who offered 'vampire friendly servicing'. If the man had enough charisma and compassion to deal with the undead then he was a lawyer I would willingly pay services for.

Deciding on a whim to give him a ring I picked up the phone.

"Mr. Cataliades office," said a pleasant woman's voice.

"Hello, yes, my name is Sookie Stackhouse and I was just given a contract and I'd like to have Mr. Cataliades look it over for me."

"Hold on a minute please."

Calming Classical music played while I waited on hold. Knowing that he probably couldn't fit me in today I hoped that he'd allow me to drop off the contract to him, figuring that the whole thing could be done by phone and mail.

A man's voice interrupted the soothing music, "Mr. Cataliades here. Miss Stackhouse, to what honor do I owe in speaking with the woman who saved many during the bombing of the hotel here in New Orleans?"

"Well sir, I saw your ad in the phonebook and am looking for someone to review a contract for me. The United States wants to put me on the payroll as a Consultant," I stated not really sure how much information I could give over the phone.

"Are you available today? My morning appointment canceled and I'm free until about twelve-thirty and then I have to run to a meeting downtown."

"I'm just checking out of the hotel now and can stop by before I leave the area."

"Very good. I will see you then." He gave me the address and we hung up.

I finished packing up all my things and checked out. The car pulled up shortly after and the driver helped me with my bag. Before situating myself in the car I asked him if we could make a stop.

"Here is the address," I said as I handed him the hotel stationary with the address of the lawyer's office on it.

The driver drove me through the French Quarter of New Orleans. Mr. Cataliades' office was right on St. Peter Street and in the distance I could see the peeking tower of St. Louis Cathedral right across from the Mississippi River shoreline. It reminded me more of Cinderella's castle in Disney World than the oldest religious cathedral still in use in the United States.

Getting out of the car I was in awe of the structure knowing that it was a testament to religious relics and time, surviving nearly three hundred years.

Brooding on my sense of anticipation and excitement I didn't delay any longer and entered the office building. Not really sure what to expect, having never been in a lawyer's office before, but a man whose clientele consisted of vampires surely had to be making a pretty penny. The only clue I had to the 'look' of a lawyer was watching Law and Order. This office didn't have mahogany furnishings or leather wingback chairs and it certainly wasn't prestigious or stuffy like I had expected. Though the furnishings didn't have a Wal-Mart quality feel, they were pleasing to the eyes inviting one to take a seat.

The woman at the front desk pulled my attention from the décor by saying, "Can I help you ma'am?"

"I don't have an appointment, but Mr. Cataliades told me that I could stop by to see him," I replied to the sharply dressed secretary.

She picked up her phone and announced my arrival. Nodding her head she said, "You may have a seat; he will be right with you."

I sat down on the plush neutral toned chair in the waiting room. He didn't keep me but a few minutes as the door to the right of me opened.

"Miss Stackhouse, please come in." He was not at all like I had expected, being short, stout, and walked with a bit of a waddle. Dabbing the sweat off his forehead he gestured me into the room. I followed him with a bit of nervousness knowing this entire experience was completely new for me. Surprisingly the door didn't open up to his office, but a hallway with several rooms. Leading me down the hall he ushered me into a room on the left. Shutting the door behind us he motioned with his hand for me to take a seat as he sat down behind his desk.

He must have felt my apprehension so he started, "I could not have been more delighted by your phone call earlier. You are the talk of the town saving many including those in the vampire community. What can I help you with today?"

Slightly embarrassed of the high praise, I stressed, "I didn't do anything that another person wouldn't have done." He raised an eyebrow at me that I ignored. "Mr. Cataliades, the United States government wants to hire me as a Consultant. I'm assuming that the attorney/client privilege is in effect as we speak?" Bless Law and Order, that show had certainly taught me a lot.

"Yes Miss Stackhouse, anything you say to me I am bound by that privilege."

"The FBI noticed my talent and offered me a contract. I don't really know anything about these kinds of things and what to make sure that all of the conditions I specified are included in it." He held out his hand as I placed the contract in it.

As he perused the first page he asked, "What kind of talent do you have Miss Stackhouse?"

Taking a deep breath I answered, "I'm a telepath, but that isn't common knowledge. Well at least it wasn't until I told the FBI, but they assured me that they'd keep my secret."

"What were your specified conditions?"

For the next few minutes I discussed with him my conditions along with my reasoning. He nodded along in acknowledgement and didn't balk when I said that I wouldn't use my abilities to condemn. Giving him a few minutes of silence he read through the entire document.

"From what you have described to me Miss Stackhouse this contract was drawn up to keep both parties compliant. The United States will provide you with a car, an apartment, and an expense account. Your Consultant fee will be paid as $100.00 per hour unless the case exceeds forty hours per week. If this is the case, you will receive three thousand dollars for the week worked. You are entitled to an annual bonus that will not be less than three-thousand dollars. You are mainly a Consultant for disaster relief, but will be asked to help the Bureau when situations arise. If either party fails to comply, then said contract is terminated. It seems to be an open ended contract, meaning you are not committed for a specific period of time. Both parties can dissolve this agreement at anytime either by forming something else or severing the relationship altogether."

Breathing a sigh of relief I asked, "So this is good then?"

"Very good," he replied with a smile.

Completely satisfied with the results I thanked him and asked, "What do I owe you for looking this over for me?"

"Don't worry about the cost. If you should need anything else do not hesitate to call me. I can fax this for you if you like." He slid the document over to me and I signed it. Thanking him again I watched him fax my new employment contract over to the Federal Bureau of Investigation.

**********

Completely satisfied I left Mr. Cataliades office and hopped into the backseat as my driver closed the door behind me. My driver. Who would have thought that phrase would ever have left my mouth. Almost giddy I watched as New Orleans passed by outside my window knowing that she and I would get much better acquainted in the near future.

An apartment. I had never lived alone, but the excitement of starting a new adventure in a big city was thrilling. Briefly did I consider what furnishings and décor I wanted for my quaint new living space. My imagination ran wild when I thought of my studio apartment overlooking the river front. After all these years my life was finally beginning to take shape.

Never was I unsatisfied with my lot in life, but never did I think I was meant for greatness either. This new job put a value on me, making me desirable. Most people looked upon me as if I were crazy, not a prized commodity.

The entire five hours back to Bon Temps I was deep in thought and my body hummed with anticipation over the next coming weeks.

When we neared home I barely could contain all my pent up feelings. Bouncing out of the car I raced up the steps to find Gran. Since I didn't have a cell phone I hadn't been able to call. The only phone I had access to was the one in the hotel room and even though the FBI picked up the tab, I didn't want to charge anything unnecessarily.

The smell of homemade apple pie assaulted my senses as I flung open the door. Running into the kitchen I threw my arms around Gran just as she pulled the pie out of the oven.

Babbling on in my excitement I told her everything that happened within the last two days. Though I could read a bit of concern in her thoughts she was genuinely happy for me. She never thought that I'd find my place in life and was glad that I found people accepting of my ability.

"Sookie… before I forget. A man dropped this off today, his name was Bobby Burnham. He asked specifically if you would be returning before this evening." She handed me a sealed envelope on very expensive stationary. Gingerly slipping my finger under the fold I opened the letter. It was on thick heavy stock written in the most elegant script I had ever seen, almost like turn of the century calligraphy writing.

Miss Stackhouse,

A car will pick you up at eight o'clock this evening to bring you to Fangtasia, my bar in Shreveport.

Eric Northman

Handing the summons over to Gran I declared, "Well, who does he think he is? He thinks he can order me to his bar."

"Sookie…who is this man?" she asked concern dripping from her voice.

"He's the vampire I saved from the exploding hotel. I see his manners haven't improved," I mumbled the last line to myself.

"Then you must go. Men are very proud lot, he doesn't seem to be the exception to that rule, and you need to do your best to not greatly offend him."

"Gran, eight o'clock is in three hours. I barely got home. I don't like the idea of not being asked and just assuming. You know what they say about those who assume?"

Gran reprimanded me sternly, "Then you let him be the ass and show him the good Southern manners that I raised you to have. You are going."

"Gran!" I exclaimed, never having heard her swear before. She looked at me full of innocence and shrugged her shoulders. Maybe my Gran wasn't as innocent as she always appeared to be.

***************

At a quarter to eight I was all dressed, wearing a white sundress with tiny red flowers, and ready for my ride to pick me up. Not really sure what to do with my hair, I twisted and pinned it on top of my head. Wearing the only piece of jewelry I owned, a single strand of pearls, around my neck.

Promptly at eight the doorbell rang.

Opening the door I was astonished to find the female vampire I had saved along with Eric. Not being able to recall her name I introduced myself, "I'm Sookie Stackhouse."

She eye fucked me up and down making me uncomfortable as I shifted my weight from one foot to the other. Biting my lip nervously I awaited her scrutiny.

"So it seems," she replied in a rather bored tone. She reminded me of those girls that ignored you while they filed their nails. I shouted at myself to man up and met her gaze eye for an eye. I would not let this tall blond intimidate me. She was dressed all in black leather playing the vampire part to a 'T'.

Seeming to almost gain more respect for me with her stare down she turned and waved me to follow. A giggle threatened to erupt from my chest when I saw, parked in my driveway, a beige minivan. That car almost took her scariness down a few notches. Almost.

Placing on my seatbelt I smoothed out my dress and asked nervously," Do I look alright?"

"You look like a scrumptious éclair, my Master will be so pleased," she purred as a shiver of fear rippled down my spine. I was pretty sure that pleasing her Master had nothing to do with chatting over sweetened tea and crumpets.

I stayed quiet throughout the entire drive thinking that it was best not to antagonize the volatile vampire. My Southern manners hung over my head urging me to make conversation and at least ask her name, but my sense of preservation kept me quiet. Just because she drove a minivan like a soccer mom didn't mean she was one.

She drove like a bat out of hell which was another thing that contradicted the soccer mom theory having no concern for the safety of those on the road. Holding on for dear life I breathed a sigh of relief when we finally pulled into a parking lot.

I had never been to a vampire bar before and it took me all of a millisecond to see how inappropriately I was dressed. Most of the bar patrons were dressed in black revealing outfits, while I, went with virginal white. Feeling extremely self-conscious about my attire I hesitated, almost frozen with fear to get out of the car.

The tall, blond, scary vampire opened my door grabbing me by the arm, "The Master does not like waiting," she hissed through clenched teeth.

She escorted me briskly through the main entrance of Fangtasia, ahead of all those waiting in line to get in. As soon as I stepped out of the car I was crippled with thoughts of sex that permeated the bar patrons. As the vampire pulled me along I tried to gain control of my mind as violent sexcapades filled it.

She noticed my lagging and asked, "Are you not well?"

My face scrunched up in pain, my head pounding from all the thoughts I answered, "Just…overwhelmed." That was the most sufficient answer I could give without revealing my secret to her. She regarded me for a moment, actually halting so I could regain a semblance of control.

"The crowd can be a bit…unusual," she stated. Did I detect a hint of compassion? The moment passed quickly as she tugged me forward and we entered the bar.

The thoughts were even more heinous and twisted once inside. Many of said thoughts were directed at me.

Maybe I should wear white next time…

Bitch! I've been trying to get Pam's attention for weeks.

Is she the sacrificial lamb?

The vampire led me past all of them, right thru the center of the dance floor, and bowed before the one whom I had saved while he sat on a throne. Not sure what the proper protocol was for meeting a vampire, I nodded my head determined not to bow.

"You have pleased me Pamela," he said in a husky tone that rippled a shiver down my spine. He stood to his full height on the platform towering over the crowd looking more magnificent than anyone had a right to look. Gulping audibly I was determined to not show any fear as he stood in front of me circling me like I was injured prey.

"Follow me," he replied after he leered at my body eye fucking me up and down. He walked right into the middle of the dance floor and the people parted like the Goddamn Red Sea. Walking behind him I held my head high quickening my step knowing that the crowd would not have the same courtesy for me as they showed him. He led me out of the bar area to what I supposed was his office.

"Sit," he commanded pointing to a chair opposite his desk. Pam, the female vampire slipped in the office behind us.

"Explain," he demanded. Was he seriously capable of only one word statements?

"Pardon?" I asked.

"Why did you save me?"

"Why wouldn't I?" I countered. Not having a clue as to what he wanted from me.

"No human would risk their own life for another. Why?" Maybe it was the voices that still swirled around in my head, but I wasn't seeing the direction he was heading with this line of questioning.

I decided on another approach, "You obviously don't hang around the right kind of humans."

He cocked an eyebrow at me and said, "Then enlighten me Miss Stackhouse, what humans should I surround myself with?"

"The honest kind," I replied not offering any other assessment.

"Are you offering to be my companion?" he asked with a leer.

"No," I almost shouted taken aback by his forwardness.

"Humans never do anything without a motive. What are you after?" he pondered narrowing his eyes a bit.

"Not really sure what you mean sir. I've never been after anything."

"Surely you know I'm a wealthy vampire and can pay you handsomely for saving not only my life, but my child's. Name your price," he demanded as I heard a snicker from the other vampire behind me. He shot her a glance before returning his expressionless face back to me.

Astonished at his words I blurted out, "I don't want payment. I only did what I thought a decent person would do."

He remained silent for a moment regarding me. His eyes shifted slightly to the other vampire before he asked, "I do have one question. How did you know there was a bomb?"

Not wanting to reveal my secret I answered as truthfully as I could by saying, "I heard an employee say they needed to get out before the bomb went off in half an hour. I tried following that person, but couldn't find them so I acted, warning as many as I could."

Just as I thought I would leave the room unscathed, thoughts, harmful violent thoughts, filtered into my head.

Only a few more hours; she's already agreed to meet me outside. How much is her blood worth? Two hundred and fifty dollars an ounce?

Now here was my moral dilemma. I could completely ignore that thought safeguarding my ability and leave whomever that vampire was to fend for themselves or I could step in and save the life of another. My Christian conscience along with the nagging voice of my Gran wouldn't let me walk away.

"If I share something bad with you, what will happen to the offender?"

"They will be drained and their bodies disposed of," he replied without even a blink so if I was hoping for a bluff, I was dead wrong.

"If I tell you…something, will you promise to turn the person over to the police and not harm them?"

Tapping his finger on the desk he stated in a chilling voice, "Why would I bargain with you? I have ways of making you talk." His eyes focused on mine as if he was concentrating hard. After a few seconds his eyes returned to normal and again he shot the other vampire a look.

Clearing my throat, determined not to show fear I answered in a steady voice, "I believe it is beneficial for you to have me as a willing confidant and not one under duress."

"Alright Miss Stackhouse, amuse me. I will not drain the scum and will turn over evidence to the police. Pray tell this pertinent information."

Pertinent hadn't been on my Word of the Day Calendar yet, but by the context I understood the meaning.

"There is a drainer in the bar. He has a silver net and chains in a van waiting outside. He plans to drain one of the female vampires that works here tonight. She has already agreed to meet him."

In a flash I was grabbed by the arm and shoved towards the office door. Pointing out the person who stood by the bar the two vampires grabbed him leaving me standing by the office door. Figuring it was as good as any time to retreat, I backed down the hallway hoping to make it out to the parking lot. In truth, I had no idea what I planned to do once I got myself there, but I didn't have to worry about that because I didn't even make it five steps.

The blond vampire grabbed me by the arm and hissed in my ear, "The Master isn't done with you yet."

Thanks to charverv and a-phoenix-rose for looking this over for me.