Hey there. Again, I own nothing to do with TB. Never will. :)

Thank you all so much for the reviews and alerts I have received. It shocks me every time. I do hope you enjoy this chapter. :) As usual, please let me know your thoughts.

I rewatched Season 7 on the week, and it was like a mindscrew lol. They had so much potential for a satisfying Eric and Sookie, and Pam and Tara ending that it just sucked :( So this is me trying to write a more solid Eric/Sookie ending.

Just to be warned, this is silly. Lol.

Chapter Four

Eric found himself flying directly above the waitress human's car, following her to her residence. Why he was bothering to do that, was anyone's guess. But he felt a strange compulsion to, a strange need to make for certain that she arrived home safe without Compton trying anything on her. Once he saw her park her car and get out, he hovered until he saw her get inside before touching down smoothly on the grass in her yard.

He could hear the blonde human talking to an elderly human, about her day, about the crazy incident with the windows smashing, which was something he did not fully understand himself. As if his feet had minds of their own, he approached the window from where the area their voices were coming from inside the house, and peered in through the lace curtains. He felt that strange humming noise in his ears again as he watched the elderly human and the waitress human. Then he heard something that concerned him.

"Have you had any luck yet?" The elderly human asked, her voice high with excitement. "Have you met your soul mate, Mr. E.N yet?"

"Gran, don't! You know I don't put any stock into that story you told me as a little girl anymore!"

He gritted his teeth and his eyes widened. Meet her soul mate, Mr. E.N? E.N? Those were his initials. Eric Northman. E.N. What was the meaning of this?

He watched the humans for a bit longer, while trying to make sense of that comment. Then it slowly dawned onto him that he was being what humans termed a 'stalker'. He was stalking the human by basically loitering outside her place of residence, and watching through the curtains. A fucking Peeping Tom in vampire form.

Eric didn't understand what was going on with himself lately. Well, tonight, at least. He certainly was not acting like his usual self; He usually did not do this, in tracking a human down by following them to their residential address. He usually did not hang around outside their house, peeking through their windows listening to their usually mundane conversations. Above all that, he did not actively go out of his way to protect a human from harm, with being more concerned about himself or his progeny than others. Yet, he had done so, tonight, at that pissy little bar, in shielding the waitress from the shatters of glass that had gone flying around from the windows. He may have even enjoyed having her in his arms and feeling how fragile and warm she was in comparison to him.

What was wrong with him?

Deeply unsettled by his behavior, he forced himself backwards away from the window unsteadily and turned, taking to the sky. Flying usually helped him gain a sense of clarity and cleared his head. It was hard to think when you were six or so feet in the air, seeing the glorious sights of Louisiana unfolding beneath you. When he got to Fangtasia, he saw the massive line of humans waiting to get inside and he flew above the roof to the opposite side of the building where the staff entrance was. He was in no mood to deal with humans right now. As he landed on the cracked pavement, he smoothed his hair down with his hand and unzipped his leather jacket before opening the staff entrance and heading in.

On his way to his office, he could hear Pam entertaining the vermin.

"Do vampires still have to take shits?" One male human was asking. "Do you-all still have to brush your teeth?"

Gah, silly humans and their ridiculous questions. Every year, those questions seemed to get worse.

"Idiots," Eric grumbled under his breath, shaking his head in dismay.

He managed to get into his office successfully without being ambushed by any humans and when he closed the door, he went straight over to his desk filled with paperwork and removed his leather jacket, shaking it out before draping it along the back of his chair. A few shards of glass that must have gotten into his jacket somehow fell on the floor. He stared down at the sharp pieces in confusion.

It was like the pieces of glass alone were accusing him. You protected a human tonight by shielding her! You are supposed to be a badass Viking vampire that humans fear! You do not protect humans! What the fuck is wrong with you?

Sighing loudly, he fell into his chair and hang his head back, closing his eyes, listening to the bass of the heavy metal music shake the framed pictures on the walls of his office. The instance he did close them, that waitress filled his vision, for some strange reason. As if she was still there in his retina. He saw her smiling, her dark brown eyes crinkling at him happily. In a terrible way, it made him ache and that thrumming filled his ears again. Maybe he was losing his touch?

The conversation he had overheard came back to him, and he sighed again, reopening his eyes, staring at the wall thoughtfully. Why E.N? Why his initials? He frowned. And what of his mark, even? It had been plaguing him for nearly the past twenty years solid, the itching, the throbbing. Yet now, suddenly, it was gone. Although he didn't understand the logistics behind it, he recalled touching the human and that mildly discomforting zapping sensation overtook him. Since that happened, the mark seemed to stop irritating him. Was that why? Because this... this waitress human held the key? The key to what, though?

As a thousand year old, he thought he had seen and understood everything. Clearly not.

He put his head in his hands and sighed again. This was not something he understood. Even Dr. Ludwig years ago had never heard of a vampire developing a mark at random, and she was known to be the best supernatural doctor out there. Even she had no idea what it all meant. But could that waitress human have been connected with it all? And her elderly companion even said E.N, his initials. Could it be a pure coincidence or something far more meaningful? And soul mates, like that elderly human had said? Pfft, yeah right.

Pam's heels clacking suddenly warned him of her approach and he quickly lifted his head out from his hands and tried to appear normal as she knocked before entering. Kicking off the floor with his feet, he spun around in his chair to look at her as she closed the door up gently behind her. He had no particular desire for Pamela to see him like this, so hopeless and unlike himself. Her eyebrows arched in surprise and she stopped dead still in her tracks when it occurred to her that he had already snuck his way in and that he was sitting there, in his chair.

"Fuck, Eric." He could feel through the Maker-Progeny bond that she was uneasy by his return. She was hiding something. "I didn't know you'd be back so soon."

"You're not happy to see me, Pam? Have to say, I'm crushed."

The leopard print dress Pam was wearing was tight and clingy, reaching just below mid-thigh, and Eric allowed himself the moment to show his appreciation in his Child by running his eyes down her dress, all the way to the large black pumps she was wearing. He felt a rush of personal pride. He had chosen right, in Pam. She was never something he could ever begin to regret, nor doubt. Though she was lazy and rude, she was also a loyal and lovely sidekick. He watched her pale, slender legs as she moved around the room, pacing back and forth. Something was clearly bothering her tonight. That made two of them, then.

But then when she doubled back, he saw something on her shin on her right leg that made his eyebrows raise. Folding his hands in front of his lap, he leaned forward slightly off the chair, inspecting her shin more attentively. There was a big round mark there. A pink rash, just below her kneecap.

Instinctively he reached out, taking hold of her arm to stop her from pacing around. "Is that what I'm thinking it is, Pam?" he asked her, breathless. "When did this happen?"

"Tonight, while you were gone." She sounded calm as anything, but Eric could sense that she was panicking. "I don't know the fuck how or why, but it just... it happened suddenly. I didn't do anything different from normal, but it just... happened. Started itching out of nowhere. Why the fuck is this happening to us? Is it some kind of disease passed on by daddy to daughter?"

"Actually, mine stopped itching tonight," Eric filled her in, not without some pleasure. "I don't know how or why. But I did touch a human and there was this... this zapping sensation through my upper back when I did. Now it hasn't been pestering me ever since. Congratulations," he added, leaning back in the chair. "Guess you won't have to be my back scratcher anymore, after all..."

Pam put her hands on her hips, eyeing him thoughtfully. "You just touched a human and then that was fucking it? We've been searching for something that would help it stop for over fifteen years and yet, all it took was some clearly magical humans touch?"

"It was, Pam. That's it."

"Well, what are you waiting for? We need to find her before mine gets worse!"

"Have you peeled it yet, Pam?" When he brought his eyes down to the red round spot on her shin, he could see she hadn't. Maybe she was even too frightened to?

"I haven't yet. Didn't want to wreck my nails."

"Well, then. Allow me." It was only fair Eric do it for her, considering she had done it for him. Reaching down, he took her calve carefully in his hands, bringing her leg up, spreading his legs apart and setting her foot in the middle on the chair. Without even so much as preparing her, he just got it over with, in scraping the skin off with his short thumbnail. The skin peeled off rather quickly and through their bond, he could feel Pam's relief, as if he was experiencing it all again for himself. "Feels good, doesn't it, Pam?" he asked her knowingly.

If his heart had been functioning perfectly well, it would have been beating overtime. He found himself anxious for Pam, and worried that the mark would match his. S.S. If it did, then it would be even trickier for the pair of them to work out what the significance of it meant. A part of him, deep down inside, was praying to Odin that her mark was different, that it wasn't similar to his. And once all the dead skin was removed and he saw what was on her shin, he let loose an unnecessary breath.

"Well?" Pam prompted urgently. "Is it the same as yours?"

"No actually, it isn't." His forehead crumpled as he eyed the letters on her skin, brushing his fingers over the red outline of them. It appeared and looked exactly as his did. They weren't too out of the skin or bumpy. The letters were just... there, deep under the first layer of skin. "Well, really, it seems to be exactly how mine progressed, but the mark is different. Yours isn't S.S like mine, Pam."

"What is it, then? What does mine say?"

When he let her put her foot back down on the ground, he saw her peer down at her leg nervously, shaking it around.

"T.T," he answered calmly after watching her dance around for a moment with her leg. "It's two T's, Pam."

"Two fucking T's?" she repeated shakily. "What the fuck is going on here? First you, and now me, Eric? Surely it has to mean something, doesn't it? It just has to!"

He was listening to his dear Pam. He really was. It was just when he closed his eyes for a moment, he saw that blonde waitress again.

She smiled at him, and suddenly there was a scene change. He was no longer in his office, but in his chair, his throne. She was on stage, walking around him in a circle from where he sat, running her hands along his shoulder every time she passed him, touching him, teasing him. She wasn't wearing her waitress outfit- he saw that very clearly for himself when she sashayed in front of him, her blonde hair out and dangling around her shoulders- but what she was wearing was fucking divine. Black lingerie, period. Then she placed both hands on his knees, bending over him slightly with her body in a way that made him see her pillowy breasts at a perfect angle, and he felt his fangs retract and throb in pleasure when she pulled his knees wide apart forcefully, slipping in between them with her legs.

There was just her and him and he felt his face go slack with arousal when she started rubbing her hands up and down his thighs, her fingernails scratching against the fabric of his jeans, presenting a light, pleasant sensation that made the blood suddenly flow to his groin. He had an erection and she smiled, seemingly pretty fucking happy about that when her eyes darted down to the considerable bulge, and Eric shifted in the chair uncomfortably.

"You want my help?" The human waitress asked, her voice coy. There was an ethereal quality to it, like it echoed around him.

"Hmmm?"

"You want my help with that, big boy?"

"What? Your-"

"Come back down to earth, Eric!"

Suddenly Pam's voice was there, a distant noise in the background.

"Wake the fuck up! Are you even listening?"

Then something hit his forehead and he opened his eyes with effort. Pam was standing there, confused, hand on her hip. She had thrown a pen lid at him and how fucking unfair, it was just a dream. A... daydream. He was back in his office, there was no blonde waitress human, and unfortunately for him, parts of the dream were actually true. For instance, the throbbing of his fangs and engorgement of his dick in his jeans. Fucking fantastic.

"Sorry, Pam. You were saying?" Uncomfortable beyond reason at having an erection due to a human with his progeny in the room, he reached behind him, took his leather jacket from the back of the chair and bunched it up, sitting it conveniently in his lap instead. "I just had the most, um, enchanting daydream."

Pam was not happily. "Forget it," she said under her breath. "I'm going back out." She threw her hands up in the air helplessly, storming out of his office.

Eric knew he ought to have felt bad about zoning out while Pam was having troubles of her own, but he just couldn't help it. He had no idea what was happening to him, or what it was in particular about the human that had him fantasizing about her like he was an infatuated little boy, but it just happened.

All he knew was that now Pamela was having troubles of her own - she now had a mark herself- and who knew what that was supposed to mean for her? He didn't have any fucking idea what his mark, the SS, meant for him.

But in the meantime...

Since the coast was clear and no one was in or around his office, now that Pam had gone back out to enthrall the vermin, he decided to take a few simple matters into his own hands. Literally.

Blowing out through his mouth, he pushed his chair back from the desk and stood, tossing his jacket on the floor. Then he unzipped his jeans, took it in his hand, and he was hard as anything, all thanks to that random fucking daydream about that blonde waitress in that shitty, pathetic bar. Closing his eyes again while starting to stroke up and down, up and down, he saw her again, filling the darkness under his eyelids.

"You want my help with that, big boy?" she asked again, in her Southern twang of a voice.

"Yes, I certainly do," he muttered to himself quietly in a sing-song voice, as if she was truly there.

He was almost there. He could feel himself about to cum, he didn't think he could last any longer, not with how quick and urgently he was stroking himself. When he finally did, he had to grab the edge of his desk for support, his dick slick with cum-blood, a blinding-hot white light flashing across his vision. He felt as if he was soaring, floating, with her. It was probably the most intense orgasm he had felt in years- his ears were ringing, his forehead tingling pleasantly- and that was definitely saying something, considering how many humans he had leisurely fucked with over the millennium.

"Fuck, yes, that's it, Sookie," he grunted thoughtlessly, licking his lips, and when he reopened his eyes, panting, he blinked at the wall across from him in blank confusion. Sookie? Where did that come from? "Sookie?" he repeated, stunned. "Who is Sookie again?"

Hope you enjoyed this one or was it terrible/silly? Please review and let me know. See you next update hopefully! :)