New chapter of the newbie guys! In case you're wondering WTF this is, it's a collaboration with Seastarr08, which involved lots of giggling and silliness. The first chapter is posted on my blog, and the whole thing will be posted here.

To recap: Sookie is fail at dating. She meets Pam, a matchmaker, and procurer of husbands. She has just the fix in mind.

Three weeks later, I received a thick envelope from Pam in the mail. A letter from her rested on top.

Sookie,

Here's the beginnings of your future. I've included a resume, a background check, photos clothed and shirtless, and a letter from Erik Nordmon. He's been in my system for a while, and he's very anxious to hear from you after I sent him along your profile. I think you'll be pleased with my selection. If you have any questions or concerns, please don't hesitate to be in touch. I've included the details for next steps in the contract at the bottom of this package.

Best,

Pam

I turned the package over in my hands about a half dozen times and debated throwing it in the fireplace, but curiosity gave in, and my head swam with questions as I fished my letter opener out of my desk and broke the seal. I was first met with a portrait of a very handsome blond man smiling back at me from what looked like a fishing wharf from what I could see from the limited background.

He was probably a midget, I told myself.

At that moment, I really began questioning the legitimacy of any of this. My skepticism continued when I got to his letter.

Prettiest Sookie,

Pamela has expressed your desire to marry me and for us to live together as man and wife, and I am very enthusiastically awaiting this. Your lovely figure and tepid smile have inspired me to great happiness, and I would ought you'd be feeling so too. It's a wonderful life I am seeking for, and with you, all things are possible.

All things possible.

It's always a lovely day when I hear from you again.

Erik

I read it once, then twice and by the third time my anxiety levels were probably through the roof. Instead I tried to push my panic to the back of my mind as I searched the rest of the package. It was there I found a copy of a letter, apparently from 'me' to this 'Erik'.

Fucking Pam!

Dearest Erik,

I have gone through life alone thus far and made many mistakes when it came to the men in my life. Thankfully I rectified that when I found the wonderful, beautiful and extremely professional and amazing Pamela, and the service she offered me.

I rolled my eyes, if I had any doubt who wrote this, posing as me, it was cleared up right then. Not that Pam likes to toot her own horn or anything. I continued reading the saccharine mess that was 'my' letter.

She promises me great things, and I trust in her completely, I know that she will make the right choice for me, a choice I have failed to make for myself in all these years.

Bitch.

I look forward to hearing more about you, and of course if all goes well, meeting and marrying you and proving Pamela right again, leaving her record as spotless as I found it. I trust what you see in me will agree with your tastes, as I am a fairly tall woman with natural and appealing breasts, as well as a very cute ass – or so I'm told. I own my own small but fairly profitable business, and have no overtly disgusting habits that I can think of. All in all I am a catch, and really struggle to understand why I am still on the shelf. But, with your help and of course, the brilliant Pam, I hope to rectify that.

Talk soon,

All my love,

Sookie.

Jesus Holy Christ, I thought as I paced my living room. Sam at my feet, eying me curiously. The package laid on the coffee table, and for hours I was almost afraid to touch it.

This was nuts. It was worse than any of the dating schemes I'd tried in the past. What kind of woman ordered a husband through someone else? What kind of woman couldn't just find someone they were compatible with? What kind of woman embraced finding her future like finding the perfect pair of shoes, just seeing something you thought you liked and order it to your home? Was that how it even worked? I decided to root through the large package again, and sure enough there was the outline for how things were meant to progress from there, if that's what I wanted.

I wasn't sure it was what I wanted. As I flipped through things again, I began to question everything. Did Erik Nordmon really exist? Was I getting scammed? I hadn't given Pam any money yet, but I knew she'd be asking for some eventually. Maybe a lot.

I was only thirty-two, and as much as the people around me wanted to make me feel like I was an old maid at thirty-two, I knew that not to be the case. This felt like jumping the gun. There was no reason why I couldn't find someone perfectly nice on my own. Except, I had been dating in one form or another since I was sixteen, and it hadn't gotten me very far. Maybe I did need a little extra help, but did I need this much help? I decided to sleep on it, in the hopes that the morning would bring a clearer mind and maybe some decisive decision making.

Of course that didn't happen, what happened instead was a night of broken sleep, tossing and turning, the idea of essentially buying a husband constantly floating around in my head. I finally gave up on any idea of rest at five am, instead getting up and dressed to take Sam out to pee. Maybe a little fresh air would do my brain some good, I thought.

Wrong.

By 10 am I was still as anxious and freaked as I had been the day before, and I figured I needed to call Pam, she was after all the only person I could really talk this through with who would hopefully understand my predicament.

"Sookie, I take it you received the package?"

"I did… uh, that's why I'm calling?"

"He's handsome, isn't he? I feel like you two would be a good match, you would look great together, too. Your hair is the same blond."

"Yeah, about that…"

"Oh, you're doubting it aren't you?" I heard her clicking away at what I assumed to be her keyboard.

"You could say that. I just don't think this is for me, Pam."

"No one thinks this is for them, Sookie. No girl grows up dreaming that she'll find her Mr. Right through a matchmaking catalog, but, shit and life happens and you have to go where the tide takes you. The tide took you to my door, and this is what we came up with. He's pretty great. I've been saving him."

Fucking Pam was right. About all of it. "I know, I know you're right," I sighed, "but it's all just a little overwhelming at the moment… and that letter you wrote to him?"

She chuckled."It was merely an opening, something to break the ice, and a step I knew you'd be unwilling to take so soon. There was no harm to it, and it got him to respond."

"What else have you told him about me?"

"Oh, nothing much. I just sent some photos -"

"How did you even get those?" Before I finished my own sentence I knew how she got them. Isabel. She and I would be having words too, it seemed.

"Trust me, they're flattering. Just a few photos, and a link to your Facebook."

Oh, God.

"So… What do I do now?"

"Whatever you'd like, his phone number is included, or you could just do something as simple as writing back to him, yourself this time."

"And say what exactly? Why are you for sale? Why are you as fail at this as I am?"

With that she laughed. "Oh, Sookie. You need to relax, I don't run a prostitution ring or anything, no one is for 'sale', no matter how much they pay me. No one is obligated to do anything they do not want to do. So really, where you go from here is up to the both of you, and if you decide that you'd like to meet him, I arrange the transport of course. But other than that, it's all yours."

Hanging up on the call with Pam settled my nerves a little, but now that I knew everything was on me, it left me with a whole new set of worries. I chickened out of handwriting a letter and decided that email was safer.

Hi Erik,

Thanks for your interest in meeting me. It was nice to get your letter.

I flipped through the packet. He was a sometimes fisherman, sometimes carpenter who lived with his grandparents in a place called Fjallbacka in northern Sweden. According to the internet, it was home to less than two thousand people.

I've never really done anything like this before. I mean, I've done online dating, and speed dating, but this is completely new to me. It's strange, not knowing anything about each other and talking about marriage. How do you feel about that?

I wondered how well anyone really knew the person they were marrying.

Anyway, I thought it might be good for us to try and get to know each other a bit, and see if we're a good match. Maybe we can talk on the phone, or spend some time emailing, and see what happens. You seem nice (and very handsome), and frankly, I haven't had much luck meeting men in more conventional ways. If you'd like to talk on the phone, feel free to give me a call sometime. I think Pam passed along my number.

Call me old fashioned, but I wanted him to call me, at least the first time. I then remembered that I was potentially paying for him. Money was probably an issue.

And if you need to call collect, that's fine too.

Best,

Sookie

I didn't get an email for three days, and when I did, I had even more questions than I did to begin with.

My Lover,

I was much esteemed to receive your correspondence through this electronic mail. I have had many thoughts on you and the information Pamela has kindly provided. Forgive me for the delay in responding back to you, electronic mail does not work so easily at my house.

I was starting to think that perhaps he had run his email through some kind of translation site, at least I hoped that's what it was and he wasn't a little… slow. His lover? It had to be a translation site.

I love to talk to you soon, hear your voice and understand how you are outside of words on paper or on the screen. I am interested in hearing about you too, speed dating as example sounds uncomfortable. Is there a car involved? A speed limit perhaps?

With that I smiled, even through the somewhat obvious communication barrier, he was able to make me laugh. I felt he understood what speed dating was just fine, but was attempting to keep things light. I liked that, I had forgotten that in all my worrying.

I looks forward to hearing all these things when we talk, I hope to call to you soon on the telephone. I can telephone you, perhaps on the Saturday at a time that would be convenient towards you.

Yep, definitely filtered his words through a translator. At least, I hoped. I took a deep breath and hit the 'reply' button, informing him that Saturday would be great, and that with the time difference between our countries, that ten am my time would leave it around six pm his time, all perfectly acceptable times for a phone call. Ten am was too early to be drunk, right?

I paced the floor, cup of coffee in hand. I stared at the phone as if waiting for it to talk me out of what I was waiting for. It was nine forty five on the Saturday, when Erik was meant to call at ten my time. At ten on the dot, the phone rang and I wanted to throw up a little. Instead I braced myself and answered the call.

"Hello?"

"Sookie?"

"Hi, Erik?

"Yes, it is Erik, hello."

"It's nice to hear from you, how are you?" I began, awkwardly. I mean really, how did you start off this conversation? It's not like there were any self-help books for women purchasing a husband from another country.

"Oh, I am fine, thank you. The telephone reception here is … not good? So, a short walk is necessary for the use of this telephone, you hear me okay, yes?"

"Uh, yes, I hear you just fine, that sucks that it's hard to get a signal where you live."

"Sucks what?"

"Oh, just…it's… unfortunate?"

"Ah, yes. Very. But mostly okay, unless someone is ill but the boats help with that, in transport, you know?"

"That's good, that there's a faster option."

"Yes. How are you? I know this is… um… odd? A little anyway, such strange way of doing things."

I laughed, glad I wasn't the only one feeling that way. "Yes, a little odd to say the least. I am just, curious about you, I suppose.

"What would you like to hear?"

"Uh, I don't… have you ever done anything like this before?"

"Before, yes. I have been in Pamela's database for a time now. There have been no real… um… the um…match perfect?"

"Perfect match?"

"Ja! Det är det, um yes, that's it?"

"Oh. I see. How many others has Pam tried to-"

"I … offer before with um, the other Ladies but no good. It… no good. They wanted …hmm more city, more um, how you say, the… modern man?"

"Right, and you're… not?"

"Well, I fish, I like boats, and quiet, and the water and to build. I love to build." He sighed. "They wanted more…uh…"

I think I knew what he was trying to say, the women that were desperate enough to basically buy a husband, probably wanted him more for the show, and less for the tell, which I imagined to be difficult given the language barrier.

"I understand."

"Good, great. I'm sorry my full English is not so great, I never have much use for it when at sea."

"Do you spend a lot of time at sea?"

"Some. It pays enough, and is good trade, good times. Good friends. Important things those things, I think. Enough to live, but good times and good friends, and hopefully soon, good lady."

I guess I was the good lady he was speaking of.

"Good friends are important, and making a living doing what you like to do."

"Yes. You like the florals? Flowers? Yes?"

"Yes, I do, my Grandmother had a big garden when I was a kid, um, growing up, you know?"

I clarified in case he assumed 'kid' to be baby goat. I was never a baby goat.

"Yes."

"And I guess I caught the green thumb from her."

"Sounds painful…" He laughed and then I laughed, and was thankful that he had a sense of humour, despite our confusion. That he wasn't a dour bore or someone that took life too seriously. His voice was deep, deeper when he broke into Swedish than it was when he attempted to speak English.

We talked a little more as I got comfortable on the couch. He told me of his village, and that he wasn't really a fan of big cities, that he would spend six months or more sometimes aboard his fishing boat with his crew, then six months of the year as a carpenter in his Father's workshop where they made bespoke pieces, and fixed up antiques from all over Sweden. His parents lived next door, and his grandparents lived next door to them. It sounded very cute that they all stayed so close, though he said it was more out of necessity than choice since the village was so small.

It made me laugh. His call got cut off twice, but he insisted on calling me, a trait that I liked right away, he was willing to make the effort which impressed me, since it sounded like he was calling from a public phone box too. Then we started talking about me, he said he wanted to know more about the woman with the brightest smile he'd ever seen, and that before Pam sent him my package, he was considering giving up.

"Why?"

"Lots of trying, no match up again and again. And I wanted to leave it all behind. But then I saw you… The pictures I mean." He chuckled. "And it sounds… funny… But there was… something in your eyes, in that smile… I just have to know it. Strange, I know, but there was something there that I trusted, on instant."

"Instinct?"

"Ja! That. You think me strange now?"

I smiled. No, I didn't think him strange at all. I thought him sweet, honest even if it made him look silly. Now I wanted to know more.

My thoughts that whole weekend were filled with the deep voiced Swede that had me extremely curious, to say the least. Dragging myself to work that Monday was done so in a daze of indecision.

"Hey Sook, the order for the McAndrews wedding just came through, she finally decided on her flowers," Jessica, the high school student I had hired to be the reception and admin girl three days a week, said as I came through the door with our coffees that morning.

"Good, it took her long enough. I swear, Brides, they're all nuts at some point or another. I've yet to meet a sane one! What did she decide?"

"The pinks, she wants four different tones of the pink roses, those," she pointed out the glassware on the photo from the portfolio," and some kind of antique ribbon that belongs to her grandmother. She said she'll drop that off next week."

"Okay, good!" I smiled, shedding my jacket and setting up my laptop at my desk.

"How was your weekend?" Jess asked sipping her coffee, glancing my direction. This was our ritual of sorts. Every Monday morning we would go over the events or the non-events of the weekend before, that's if we weren't covering a Saturday wedding, then I had all hands on deck. She would sit, her eyes still full of great expectation from her teenhood, and I would squash those expectations with tales from my 'old lady' lifestyle. She would never call me that, but sometimes I wonder if that's what she thought of me, she was after all, only seventeen and working a part-time job to help with college money. She told me of her on again off again boyfriend Hoyt, and how they were now 'off' again because of something his mother said.

She was upset about it, but she was resolved to make him understand that his mother couldn't treat her that way and let things continue unnoticed. I told her she was right, and brave and all those things, but what I really wanted to say was to not let old biddies like Maxine Fortenberry stand in the way of their happiness. But I doubted that she'd listen. I knew I wouldn't have at her age.

"I have that arrangement ready for the Portman funeral, they said they'd pick up at nine thirty, right?" Jess inquired flipping through the books.

"Yep, that poor woman was beside herself, I really hate that aspect of this job. The happy, fun, events? Sure, but the funerals are the worst."

"I agree, they give me the heebie jeebies." She shuddered. "But, they're in the cooler, and I think I'll get started on the Mccluskey anniversary order." She smiled slipping her cell off her desk and heading into the back. Yeah, flower arranging wasn't all she was going do in there. She was going to obsess and probably mass text everyone she knew about Hoyt. It was just her way.

Then I thought of my way, and how I had pretty much been doing the same thing the teenage girl had been doing, all weekend. Only I was obsessing alone, too ashamed to even think of letting this slip to my friends. This madcap idea of mine, of Pam's really, and just how it was going to play out. Eric and I had promised to email back and forth and while I liked that idea, I was always one for a face to face, to really evaluate a person one on one. The idea of a face to face with Eric was a terrifying prospect though, it meant a lot of travel, a foreign country, a strange man I'd never really met, meeting alone in said foreign country.

I sighed, booking in more orders for the week coming up, and checking my email obsessively.

Clearly age was just a number and Jess and I were more alike than either of us wanted to admit.

By that Friday, I had decided.

It was time to take a chance.

I was going to Sweden.

A/N: Thank you guys so much for the support on the first chapter for Sea and I. It's been so much fun to write something lighthearted and we're glad you're loving it so far! :)