A/N - It feels like months since I last posted! Sorry!

If you are having difficulties reading/understanding the Lafayette PoV at the top, scroll to the bottom where there is a "translation"

Disclaimer - These are not my sheep, they belong to Ms Harris, I am just letting them graze a while.


Somethin' magical seems to happen when folk sit down to eat together. It's all about the breakin' of bread, or in this case; shepherd's pie, Yorkshire pudding, roast parsnips and potatoes and more beef gravy than you eva' did see. I might be a Louisianna boy in my heart and soul, but I love me some British cookin'. The world might turn its nose up at simple food like this, but they is missin' out.

Sal likes her 'dinner parties'. They ain't nothin' fancy, just folks stayin' on the farm, but it let her play lady of the house and act and feel all regal. She usually invites the locals to be ruled over but they always find they washin' they hair that night or come down with some bug. Sal rubbed their feathers wrong when she first took over the farm and folks have some real long memories in Llandifiau. But this night, the world and he wife were hustlin' for an invite for sups! Not that I'm surprised.

I had high hopes for my lil' investment and she didn't disappoint, least not while we all ate. Southern manners were in that girl's blood and they shine through her skin like she made of glow-worms or somethin'. Sho 'nuff, even the backpackers staying wit' me in the barn were drawn to Sookie like white on rice. Each, tryin' to out-do theyselves with ideas on where she should visit. Charlie, who look like he spend too much time wishin' he were Captain Hook, all curly haired and tiny beard, preened like a cat when he gave the winning suggestion. Lake Vyrnwy was her first destination.

She even tried to be nice to that Andre: "So, Andy, have you and Sal owned the farm for long?"

"Is Andre," he sniffed, giving Sal a look. Bitch Puhleese! He was real particular about his name, and about being French; so was Sal, but she wanted folks to think she was makin' the effort to be one of them.

Sal forced Eric to join us. He seem to listen to her more than he listen to most, but he just sat through dinner with a scowl on that handsome face of his. Sookie didn't even try to talk to him. She jus' flinched whenever he talked to Sal in French or look at my sugar wit'dem beautiful blue eyes. The truth is, I know honeychile is hungry for more than some home cookin', but what can I do to help a bitch who won't help his self? He didn't utter one word in English the entire time. Rude ass shit.

.-oOSOo-.

I needed to get away after dinner. The guys staying on the farm were nice and all, but between Eric and Andre I had had just about enough of smiling through the pain. Skipping out and driving to the pub was the perfect relief. Bill's smile when I walked through the door made all my suffering over Lafayette's delicious food tolerable.

Earlier that day Bill had been a complete gentleman and walked me home in the rain. He was sweet and charming and he made me feel like a lady. We talked on the country side, why he'd bought the pub, and what his dreams were for the future. Yes, I could happily say I liked Bill. A lot. His accent was cute, and he had a way about him that made me feel like spending more time in Llandifiau, even if I had to tolerate Andre and Eric.

After our brief, but lovely chat that evening I decided that if, in a day or two, things hadn't improved on the farm, I would be brazen, and try to get Bill to invite me to stay with him. I wasn't sure Gran would approve, but I was a grown woman, and what Gran didn't know…

I climbed into bed that night with a light head, not from any alcohol, but from the delightful charms of Mr. Compton.I slept fitfully, with dreams of fine and muscular arms holding me, pulling me against a firm strong chest.

Soft hair sweeping across my cheek, a face nuzzling my neck, breathing me in. His presence alone warming me in places that made me bashful and flustered. I wanted to show him how I was feeling, what he was doing to me, how I wanted him… but something was in my way. What was it? What was stopping me? I dug my fingers into his broad shoulders, scared that if he let go I would fall away, and tried to kiss him, but our lips did not meet.

I woke not long after dawn with dried tears down my cheeks and my hand tucked into the elastic of my pajama pants, feeling annoyed and frustrated in one tight angry package.

Monday morning brought a bright and shiny day, and who was I to be frustrated when the sun was beaming on me? One of the backpackers staying on the farm, Charlie I think, but it could have been Bazza, had suggested I took a trip to Lake Vyrnwy, so with map in hand, and plenty of supplies (thanks to my darling Lafayette) I hopped in my rental and set off on the shortest route. Maybe it was just the small car I was driving, or maybe it was the bad mood I was trying to squash, but the landscape had an oddly close feeling to it, despite its sprawling openness.

I only have one word to describe Lake Vyrnwy: " WOW!" Really, just that, WOW!

My camera came out the moment I parked up and I just had to capture everything in pixels to send home to Gran. She and I loved to read romance novels, and this place was just making my imagination burst with thoughts of fair maidens and valiant knights. There was even a Rapunzel tower off one of the banks.

I splashed out (ha, ha) on a hire boat; I'd always wanted to go fishing in a boat on a lake with a grandfather figure, just like you see in the films, but Gramps died before my parents, and they died when I was pretty young, so it never happened. They made sure I knew the basics ("this is an oar, this is a rowlock, pull this way to go here, pull that way to go there…") and when I was secure in the little boat, the guy (who reminded me of a mix between a country hick and a surfer dude) pushed me off from the pebbled shore, and I floated into the middle of the lake. The current, caused by the open dam, was pulling me slowly towards the bridge, so I put a in little effort and gently rowed myself 'upstream', then I just sat back and lazily drifted.

My guide book said the tower was a water monitoring station, or something, but it looked all too fancy and wistful for something as dull as that. I tucked into my packed lunch that Lafayette had left in the fridge for me (he's such a sweetheart) with the oars pulled into the boat and my knees tucked under my chin. I gazed at the tower, day dreaming about being a princess trapped up high, with my Barman Bill calling to me from the drawbridge, begging access. I smiled to myself, maybe tonight I might let him in.

With my camera almost full, my heart a-flutter with anticipation and my thirst for beautiful romantic countryside sated (for the day anyway) I headed back to the farm and to the night at Y Gafr's that awaited me. I'd never set out to seduce anyone before, although I'd watched my brother do it many times, and I wasn't sure how well received my advances might be. At least I was safe in the knowledge that if I embarrassed myself in front of the whole village I could climb into my rental the next day and never see any of them again. I took comfort in that thought.

The clouds started to blow over as I got closer to Llandifiau, but thankfully my high spirits weren't hidden along with the sunshine. Sitting in the boat that afternoon had given me a chance to do a little sun-worshipping, which I didn't think I'd be able to do so far away from home. Adding to my tan always made me more relaxed and confident. Slowing down to drive around the hairpin bends I could hear quite a commotion. Blocked from my view by one of the tall hedges, there must have been a huge gathering of sheep, and they sounded real frightened.

I pulled my car up against a fence, tucked away from the road in case another car, or even worse a tractor should come by, and took myself off to see what was causing all the fuss as the threatening clouds started to release a fine mist of rain.

The temperature was starting to drop as I made my way over to the fretting pile of woolly creatures in the next field across. I was grateful that I had thought to pack a fleece as well as sweater for the day, but I was wishing I had a waterproof jacket too. Reaching the gate I lifted myself up onto it and peered into the field. There, just a few yards away, was a sheep, stuck in a patch of mud with its fellow flock members crowded round to see what was wrong.

The stuck sheep, I called her Shaun, was clearly terrified; her four feet firmly fixed in the squelching soft brown earth. I climbed over the gate in a most unladylike fashion, and began to waddle as best as I could over to her, my movements hampered by the same gunk Shaun was stuck in.

"Shhh, it's okay Shaun, I'll get you out," I said to her in an attempt to sooth her, my own nervousness must have been apparent in my voice because though because her bleating got louder. My feet were starting to stick, pulling them out was becoming real hard work, but I managed to reach her and stroked her head to try to calm her, and myself. The rest of the flock must have decided that Shaun was now safe in my hands or they were scared of me, I wasn't sure which, because they dispersed and turned their attention to the grass.

"Okay Shaun, it's like this," I said, steeling myself for not only trying to get the sheep out of this sticky situation, but now myself, because the mud was like glue. "I'll push you from behind, and you try to walk forward. How does that sound?"

I was talking to a sheep I was trying to rescue, in the cold wet weather of Wales. What a vacation!

"Right, on the count of three!" I put my hands on Sean's behind and was about to push when… SPLAT! Sean lightly jumped forward, out of the mud and into the field, l leaving me face down in her wake.

I tried to get to my feet, my hands, face, clothes all now covered in mud, but I was fairly stuck. I sat on my knees, looked up at the sky and said a little mental thank you to the fates who were clearly laughing at me. How, I wondered, could this get any worse?

"Are you beyond stupid?" boomed a deep voice, I turned round and saw Eric resting his weight on the gate. "No, don't answer!"


A/N

Lake Vyrnwy - please google it and look at the pictures, it really is a fantastically pretty place. The birds around there are very tame due to the tourists feeding them crumbs of ice-cream cones and other tit bits. The hotel that overlooks the lake has had mixed reviews from people I know, I have never been there though.

Stuck sheep - I have witnessed almost exactly this situation, although the sheep in question was in a canal, not a muddy field. The other sheep crowding round were preventing it escaping its terrible fate. We tried very hard to help the poor thing, but nothing worked. Until I scared all the other sheep away and the creature easily hopped out the canal and onto the bank. *sigh*

Shaun - a nod to Wallace & Gromit's "A Close Shave" that Sookie mentioned she'd seen back in Chapter 4.

Lafayette - I've had a comment that Lafayette's getting harder to understand. SORRY! I'm trying to make him as 'real' as possible, and that means writing in his dialect. Since that makes him hard to understand - here's a translation into "real" English:

There is something magical when you sit down and eat together as a family. It's all about the breaking of bread, or in this case; shepherd's pie, Yorkshire pudding, roast parsnips and potatoes and more beef gravy than you have ever seen. I might be a Louisianna boy in my heart and soul, but I traditional British cooking. The world might turn its nose up at simple food like this, but they are missing out.

Sal likes to host 'dinner parties'. They are nothing fancy, just a few folks staying on the farm, but it let her play lady of the house and act and feel all regal. She usually invites the locals to be ruled over but they always find they have to wash their hair that night or have fallen ill with some bug. Sal annoyed them when she first took over the farm and folks have somevery long memories in Llandifiau. But this night, the entire village was begging for an invite for dinner! Not that I'm surprised.

I had high hopes for my little investment and she didn't disappoint me, at least not while we all ate. Southern manners were in that girl's blood and they shine through her skin like she's made of glow-worms or something. Sure enough, even the backpackers staying with me in the barn were drawn to Sookie like moths to a flame. Each, tryinh to out-do themselves with ideas on where she should visit. Charlie, who look like he spend too much time wishing he was a pirate, all curly haired and tiny beard, preened like a cat when he gave the winning suggestion. Lake Vyrnwy was her first destination.

She even tried to be nice to that Andre: "So, Andy, have you and Sal owned the farm for long?"

"Is Andre," he sniffed, giving Sal a look. Bitch Please! He was real particular about his name, and about being French; so was Sal, but she wanted folks to think she was making the effort to be one of them.

Sal forced Eric to join us. He seem to listen to her more than he listen to most, but he just sat through dinner with a scowl on that handsome face of his. Sookie didn't even try to talk to him. She just flinched whenever he talked to Sal in French or look at my sugar with those beautiful blue eyes. The truth is, I know he wants more, but what can I do to help a bitch who won't help his self? He didn't utter one word in English the entire time. Rude ass shit.