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Pam flipped her hair nonchalantly, and attempted to busy herself with stacking glasses at the bar, avoiding Nan's gaze. She noticed, to her chagrin, her fingers trembled slightly as Nan's eyes bored into her, waiting for an answer to her question.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she replied, her eyes finally meeting Nan's.

"Her scent is different, Pam."

Ginger shuffled past Pam, struggling with the empty True Blood boxes. "Smells like Curve to me," she piped up. "I stopped wearing that in eighth grade, but to each her own."

"Ginger," Pam hissed at her, "go away."

The bartender looked from Pam to Nan, shrugged her shoulders, and walked to the other end of the bar, tossing the boxes onto the floor. Pam kept her eyes on Nan, who had now turned her head toward the back hallway that Sookie disappeared into moments earlier. Pam spoke up, not particularly enjoying the protective feeling that arose within her. She generally associated that feeling with Eric only.

"Ms. Flanagan, there is nothing special about Sookie Stackhouse. Aside from the way she wears a pair of cutoff jean shorts."

Nan returned her blue-tinged gaze to Pam and shook her head slowly, her lips forming a straight line. "I don't appreciate being lied to Pam," she whispered. "For some reason, everyone in Bon Temps thinks the opposite."

Pam paused, calculating her next remark. Again, she didn't enjoy the feeling creeping up her spine, this time a mixture of uncertainty and fear. "If you want to learn anything about Sookie Stackhouse, then maybe you should talk to the King of Louisiana." She gave Nan a pointed glare. "Or is he lying to you, too?"

Nan flinched faintly, and Pam noticed, watching as the blonde's lower lip trembled from anger. "Are you asserting something against your King?"

"I would never say anything treasonous about our King," Pam replied, sarcasm dripping from her tone.

"I'm sure you wouldn't, as that's an offense punishable by death."

Pam rolled her eyes. "What isn't?"

Nan's torso darted forward fast, across the counter, her face stopping inches away from Pam's. Her fangs popped out, protruding slightly, as she stared at the other woman. "Pam," she said vehemently, "you're insolent. And you're fortunate that your Maker is a lucky fuck who hasn't yet been caught playing games with the Authority. Do you really want to mess up that track record?"

Pam's fangs popped out in response, as she hissed back, "Do you really want to find out?"

Nan laughed, amused, her fangs retracting as she pulled back and placed her hands on the counter. "Pam, you are either stupid, have incredibly large balls, or you are very protective of your Maker. I'm suspecting all three." She continued to smile, seemingly entertained. Pam's fangs popped back into her mouth. She felt foolish, and she resented the AVL spokeswoman for making her feel that way. Before she could speak again, Nan smirked at her once more and flashed out of the club entrance, leaving the protesters in a gust of wind.


Eric stepped into the back entrance of Fangtasia, and strolled down the hallway to the back office. Pam, still standing at the bar, sensed him immediately, and in a split second she was in front of Eric, staring up at him. "We got a problem," she said, halting him by placing a manicured hand on his chest.

Eric sighed, and walked past her. "What else is new?"

"Nan Flanagan met Sookie tonight. She immediately picked up on her scent."

Eric stopped and turned back to Pam, his face suddenly serious. "Does she know what she is?" he asked, urgently.

Pam shook her head. "No, but she knew something was off. I could see it, Eric, her whole body trembled when she smelled her. So she must have sensed something."

"Where is she?"

"Sookie? She's in your office."

Eric shook his head, and took a few deliberate steps closer to the doorway of the office. He could sense that Sookie awaited him inside. He looked over at Pam. "No. Where is Nan?"

Pam shrugged her shoulders. "I think she may have gone to visit Bill Compton."

Eric cut his eyes at the entrance of the office, looked back at Pam and spoke loudly, his voice carrying into the room where Sookie sat waiting for him. "To find out about Sookie?"

Inside the office, Eric's voice had his desired effect as Sookie creased her brow at the mention of her name. She turned her ear toward the door, straining to hear more.

"I don't know," Pam responded.

Eric spoke, his voice still carrying. "I don't trust Bill. I don't trust that he won't betray Sookie's secret."

Sookie sighed impatiently, and cocked her head toward the door, calling out, "I can hear you talking about me, Eric."

She was met with a smile from Eric as he and his progeny walked into the office.

"Hi Sookie," Eric said pleasantly, walking toward his desk. "How are you this evening?"

Sookie stood and faced him. "I'm fine, Eric." She paused, and took a breath. "Tara's moving back in with me."

Eric raised his eyebrows in surprise. "You mean with us?"

"Yes."

"Great."

"Great?"

"The more the merrier."

Confusion crossed Sookie's face. "You're not interested in why I want her to move in with me?"

"No." Eric walked around to his office and flipped through a few receipts, ignoring Sookie's adamant look.

"What were you saying about Bill?" she asked.

Eric didn't glance up, continuing to flip through his ledger. "The usual. He's not to be trusted."

"Neither are you," Sookie reminded him.

Eric finally glanced up at her. "Maybe not by some, but you can trust me, Sookie."

Sookie rolled her eyes, and took a step toward the door. "I'm over this. I'm going back to work."

Eric gestured toward Pam, who still stood by the office door. "Pam, will you accompany Sookie back?"

Sookie protested, "No!" as Pam asked, "Why?"

"Pam, please."

Pam grimaced and gave Eric a disgusted look. "I'm not riding in that podunk mobile with her." Sookie pursed her lips at Pam, offended by the slight. A look from Eric closed the matter. "Fine," Pam said, frustrated, but obedient. "But what are you going to do about Ms. Flanagan?"

Eric looked up at the two of them, thoughtful. "Nothing," he said. "If Ms. Flanagan wants to ask me any questions, she knows where she can find me."

"Nothing?" Pam asked, surprised. She started to protest, but then looked at Sookie and threw up her hands. "I'm done caring about this shit." Sookie rolled her eyes and stalked out of the office, Pam following closely behind.


Bill raised his voice into the phone, his feet propped leisurely on his desk. "Yes, thank you, Alcide. I'm glad things are going well for you and Debbie, and that she is fully recovered. You let me know if anything strange arises between now and then." Bill rested the telephone on his shoulder as he picked up a remote and flicked on his television. Nan Flanagan's image appeared on the screen, seated across from Larry King. "Ah, one more thing, Alcide – " Bill began. Before he could finish his thought, Nan Flanagan strode into the room without knocking, stopping in front of Bill's desk. She fixed him with a furious glare, her blue eyes staring darkly down at him.

Bill removed his feet from his desk and straightened his posture. "Ah, I have got a visitor and I must go. I will be in touch with you soon. Thank you." Bill hung up the phone and rose in greeting. "Ms. Flanagan, what can I do for you? I did not know you were in Bon Temps this evening."

Nan smiled. "I had the pleasure of running into Sookie Stackhouse tonight at Fangtasia."

Bill's smile disappeared into a slightly more panicked expression. Nan caught his troubled look, and noticed that he tried to cover it with a slight smile. "At Fangtasia?" he asked.

"Cut the bullshit, Bill." Nan stepped closer to him, and peered into his eyes, silently calculating his demeanor. "When I appointed you King, do you remember what I asked you?"

Bill nodded. "I do," he said quietly.

"Do you want to answer that question truthfully now?"