Characters belong to Charlaine Harris. I moved them to Brooklyn because Louisiana has enough vampires.

I left the hospital the next day but didn't go back to work until the day after that. Or the night after that, I should say.

The fracture in my left arm wasn't bad enough to warrant a cast. Instead I wore a sling and had been sent home with strict instructions not to use my injured arm. It made tending bar a little tricky but I was able to manage the tap and the register.

It didn't take long for me to fall into my usual routine and I was pretty thrilled about it. A few of the regulars dubbed me the One Armed Bartender, which I found amusing.

Since I'd had Eric's blood the month before, I'd spent many a dull moment daydreaming of my superhero alter-ego.

Given the neighborhood's number of watering holes, I thought the One Armed Bartender was a good superhero for Bay Ridge.

The Salty Dog was a favorite in the neighborhood. Our customers included many of New York's Finest (cops), Bravest (firefighters), and Strongest (sanitation guys). We also attracted a lot of Good Fellas. While definitely an interesting mix, and Lord knows there were rivalries, they seemed to leave it at the door. The Salty Dog was a safe haven. What can I say? No matter their background, the guys all loved (not necessarily in this order): beer, sports, and their country. The Dog celebrated all three and everyone was happy.

I loved working there since my first day because it was shiny and lively and entertaining. Never a dull moment, I was able to sink into the background. After being poked and prodded so much during my early years, I was only too happy to get lost in the shadows.

That, however, seemed to be changing a little.

Since I'd been released from the hospital, Tara and JB had been by a couple of times and I'd been trying to pin Jason down to dinner. I didn't know for certain but I suspected that my run of near death experiences was pushing me a little outside of my shell.

Another factor contributing to my sense of well-being was the fact that Eric hadn't come through on his promise—threat—of seeing me again.

On my fifth night back at work, I was chatting with a couple of the regulars, Andy Bellefleur, a stocky but muscular cop, and Hoyt Fortenberry, a friend of my brother's. Hoyt, a total sweetheart, had been Jason's best friend since seventh grade. They worked together at DSNY—pronounced Disney but in that it was the city's sanitation department, it was about as far away from Mickey Mouse as you could get. They also co-owned a three family house in Sunset Park, each taking one of the building's apartments and splitting the rent collected on the third unit.

"You guys good on drinks?" I smiled at the two of them; happy to be alive, I wasn't short on smiles.

"Yeah, Sook, I'm good," replied Andy. "Halleigh wants to get pregnant so I'm not allowed more than two so I don't have any trouble getting it up."

Andy's eyes never left mine as he spoke; I just nodded, my crazy smile plastered on my face. Stealing a glance at Hoyt, meanwhile, I saw my brother's friend nearly sputter up his Bud and silently shake his head. I brought my eyes back to Andy.

"Oh!" What the hell would Gran say? "Andy! How wonderful! Halleigh's gonna make a terrific mom." She's a teacher so she must like kids, right? She's been married to Andy, a 30-something juvenile delinquent for four years; that certainly must qualify her to be a mom.

"Sookie!" All of a sudden my coworker Arlene called me from the opposite end of the bar. By my friend's spastic head movements gesturing towards the crowd in the front, I gathered there was somebody there asking for me. My heart rose to my throat. Lowering my shield, I conducted a mental survey. I was ready to pass out from relief when I confirmed the absence of Eric's familar mental void. I did, however, detect a different brain pattern. Different from anything I'd ever encountered before.

A spot opened up by the door and I caught a glimpse of a statuesque, model-gorgeous woman talking to Arlene over the bar counter. I could tell that this beautiful woman was the one with the distinctive brain pattern.

She also seemed to be the one who wanted to talk to me. With trepidation, I made my way to Arlene, a tentative smile on my face.

"What's up Arlene?"

Smiling, Arlene turned to me. Jerking her head as she introduced Claudine, her bright red curls to bounced.

"Sookie, this is Claudine. She says you guys met the night of your fall."

Arlene whispered the last word in the same way she would whisper "period" or "yeast infection." She was a transplant from Louisiana and some of her mannerisms still cracked me up, even after knowing her five years.

Still wearing my uneasy, unnatural smile, I turned to take a closer look at my visitor. She had cascading dark hair, big brown eyes, and a photo-ready smile.

"Hi," I greeted her. "Claudine is it?"

"That's right," she nodded. "Claudine Crane. How are you feeling? I have to say, considering what you've been through, you look terrific!"

"I was saying the same thing myself," said Arlene. "Not everyone looks good after an ordeal, but Sookie's got some good genes."

"Yes, she does," Claudine agreed, with an emphatic nod.

While decidedly charmed, I was also more than a little overwhelmed by my guest. Not to mention I was also wondering why I couldn't read her thoughts.

"Thank you, Claudine," I replied, my smile thinning out on my face. "I have to tell you: I don't remember meeting you that night. Were you at the show?"

"Oh, no, hon," she shook her head to reinforce her words. "We met on the train. Nope, make that on the platform. Maybe on the tracks is the most accurate way to describe it."

I felt my eyes widen like saucers.

"You got me out." I said, my voice a little shaky. "You were the woman who pulled me off the tracks!"

"Yes, Sookie," she nodded, her delighted smile still plastered to her face.

"Hey, Arlene!" I turned around to face Arlene. "Can you manage without me for five? We're gonna go out front so we don't have to shout."

With Arlene's blessing, I hightailed it out from behind the bar and within minutes, Claudine and I were standing on Third Avenue in front of the Salty Dog's entrance.

Not sure what to say, I mulled things over in my mind for a few seconds before I felt comfortable enough to put them into words.

"Claudine, what you did for me was amazing. I can't believe you did it." Choking on my words, I had to pause. "You put yourself in danger to save me. I know there's no words that can really express how grateful I am. I mean I would've died that night but you gave my life back to me."

While a smile still covered Claudine's face, I was starting to see something else in her eyes.

Regret?

No, more than that.

Guilt?

"Claudine, you look like you have something else you want to say to me. Am I right?"

"You're a quick one," she nodded approvingly, her lips upturned in a winsome smile once more. "Niall's going to like you."

"Excuse me?"

"Sookie," Claudine glanced around as she spoke, "we have many things to discuss and I'm afraid standing on this street corner will not do."

Just then her words were underscored as a group of young men walked past, making catcalls at us.

"Ooh, you two Wonder Woman and Super Tits?"

Frowning, I rolled my eyes and did my best to ignore them. Claudine shocked me and impressed me by tackling them head on.

"Hey, I could take down any one of you in less time than it takes to say erectile dysfunction. You want to try me?"

The five guys, college aged and mostly drunk, chortled and just continued on their way.

"Bitch!" One of them called over his shoulder.

"You don't know the half of it," Claudine replied freely. "New Yorkers are such a different breed," she said absently to me.

"I guess," I shrugged. As amusing as it was watching Claudine in action, I really wished she would focus on telling me whatever it was she kept dancing around. "Claudine, what did you mean? Who's Niall?"

"Oh, Sookie," she smiled at me warmly. "There's plenty of time to discuss Niall." Pausing, she averted her gaze while she seemed to consider her next words. "Why don't we meet for dinner tomorrow night? Have you ever been to the River Cafe? It'll be my treat! As a congratulations on still being alive."

"I'm working tomorrow," I replied.

"Oh, I'm sure your boss will understand." Suddenly Claudine was grabbing my hand. "I'll talk to him. Come on."

Without another word—I understood instinctively that Claudine was not to be dissuaded on this matter—I followed her back into the bar and watched as she tracked down my boss, Sam Merlotte.

Having worked at the Salty Dog for nearly five years, I regarded my boss as much a friend as a boss. Sam was wiry but strong, with a halo of sandy hair. In his 30s, he'd taken over running the bar from his dad and his uncle, when they'd finally decided they'd had enough of New York winters and went the way of the snowbird and retired to Florida. Sam had just returned to New York after a stint in the military.

"Hey, boss-man," Claudine zeroed in on Sam who was manning my station at the bar. "I'm the one who pulled our girl from the choo-choo track." Stopping, Claudine threw a look in my direction; Sam's eyes, meanwhile, darted from her to me and back again. "Requesting permission to take her out for dinner tomorrow to celebrate."

"Sure," said Sam with an embarrassed chuckle, his voice carrying a lilt of uncertainty. "I'm Sam Merlotte. Who are you?"

"Well, my name's Claudine. Guess you could call me the Sook's fairy godmother."

Sam, startled by Claudine's comment, snorted but I could tell he was more puzzled than amused. Claudine was never more than one breath away from laughing and it appeared to be infectious. To some. Not to me. Not to Sam. Claudine, still giggling, gave me a conspiratorial wink while all I could do was just nod, and smile, and play along.

~oooOOOooo~

"Who was Claudine?" asks Amelia.

"Not was. Is, Amelia," I sigh. "Claudine plays several roles in my life," like Eric I think. "She is actually a distant cousin from a branch of the family I wasn't aware existed until she showed up."

"Oh!" I watch as Amelia attempts to process this piece of information. "Well, that must be nice. Discovering new relatives."

"Hmmm, yeah," I answer lamely. I remain unconvinced.

"Wow! So it was a coincidence that your relative—"

"Cousin," I interrupt.

"A coincidence that your cousin was there and pulled you off of the track."

"Not exactly."

"What do you mean?"

"Claudine's not just my cousin," I report warily. "She really is my fairy godmother."

"Oh," she says, surprised. I can tell Amelia has no clue where to go with that revelation so she throws me a softball. "How did you find out?"

"She told me at dinner the next night."

~oooOOOooo~

Claudine picked me up at my apartment the following night. I wasn't altogether surprised to see her pull up in a bright blue BMW convertible.

"Hi, hon," she greeted me. She double-parked the car, climbed out, and raced over to give me a hug. "How are you feeling?"

"Oh, I'm fine," I replied. "It's really just the fracture in my arm and that should heal pretty quickly."

"Terrif," she smiled. "Well, come on. Dinner awaits."

We settled inside the car and soon were off. I figured the heavy conversation would wait for the restaurant so I settled on small talk.

"So, Claudine, what do you do?"

"I work in fashion. I'm a buyer."

"Oh, I should've guessed. You have a distinctive sense of style."

That was true. This first time I met her she had been wearing an orange pantsuit; for our special dinner, she was wearing a yellow halter top and a long print skirt. I didn't think I'd be able to pull off either outfit. I wasn't sure I would want to but Claudine had an amazing figure and obviously didn't mind being the center of attention. If I found myself the center of attention, it was due to either my D cups or the crazy expression on my face.

"I like colors. Many in the City are afraid of colors. I've created my own little niche."

We continued to chitchat on random topics and within minutes we were pulling up to the River Cafe. Once the valet attendant came around to park the car I realized just how expensive the restaurant was.

"Claudine, I can pay for my own dinner," I said as I climbed out of the car. "You don't have to-"

"Nonsense! I asked you to come with me to this overpriced den of pretentious non-starters and I wouldn't have invited you if I didn't intend on paying." She smiled blithely as she linked her arm with my unbroken one. "And don't think you can cheap out on not ordering what you want. They have a $25 per person minimum so they're just going to make me pay anyway, so please order what you like."

I glanced up at her uneasily.

"Listen, I've been wanting to try this place out but I'd never come here by myself," she continued. "So really you're doing me a favor, when you think about it. And our meeting and your good health are two things highly worthy of celebration and definitely more than worthy than this tourist-cum-yuppie trap."

"All right," I finally broke down giggling.

Soon Claudine and I were seated at a table with a lovely view of both the East River and the Manhattan skyline. I'd initially demurred on ordering alcohol—I figured it would just make the dinner cost more—but Claudine wouldn't hear of it.

"Sookie, my grandfather is a very wealthy man. Your money is no good here."

"Oh!" I took that in. "Okay. Thank you, Claudine." I smiled at her gratefully and her face seemed to take on that guilty look I'd noticed the night before.

"Don't thank me too quickly, there, Sookie."

"What? Why?"

"I have to tell you something. Actually there's a couple of somethings."

"Oh? What is it?"

"Maybe three major somethings and a handful of small ones."

"O-kay..." I hung on to my reply, unsure of what to make of Claudine. I wasn't afraid of her, but I definitely didn't feel that she was someone who could be taken at face value. As her silence stretched on, I finally prodded her. "Do you want to start?"

"Hmmm, guess so," she nodded. "You know how you think your brother Jason is your only relative since your grandmother passed and your cousin disappeared?"

Aghast at how much Claudine knew about me, my jaw hit the floor. I forced myself to respond.

"Yes?" I said haltingly.

"Wrong! Hello, cos!"

My mouth was stuck in catching flies mode. "What?"

"I'm your cousin, Sookie! But don't worry! We can still be friends. I'm of a mind that you can be both friends and family."

"What? How?" My face must've shown every bit of my confusion.

"Well, technically my grandfather is your great-grandfather."

"What? Who?"

"His name is Niall Brigant and he's my grandfather and your great-grandfather."

"Brigant?" I asked, proud of myself for managing something other than Who? What? Or How? "I don't know that name."

"Hmm, well. There was a little side nookie involved. Your grandfather on your father's side—"

"Grandpa Mitchell?"

"Nope," she shook her head. "Not Grandpa Mitchell. That's what I'm trying to tell you. He wasn't your real grandfather. Your grandfather's name was Finton Brigant."

"What?"

"Sookie, I'm sorry. I know this kind of news must be disturbing."

"My gran-"

"Had some secrets, Sookie."

"This doesn't make any sense. Why should I believe you? How do I know you're not just making this up?"

"Well, there's really no reason for me to lie," she replied with a sigh. "If I were lying, I'd probably try to come up with something better than the truth because the truth kind of sucks."

"What?"

"You heard me."

"The truth sucks?"

"Yep," she replied cheerfully.

"How?"

"Well, I'm a fairy and you're a part-fairy. Actually, I really am your fairy godmother."

"You're my fairy godmother?"

"Yep. It wasn't a lie what I told your boss." With that, Claudine moved her hair away from her ear and I could see a pointed, Vulcan-like ear. It didn't look like it had been surgically altered. Somehow I knew if I touched it the cartilage would feel natural.

Claudine, I was afraid, was telling me the truth.

"Okay." We paused our conversation as the waiter brought out our dinners. As I stared at my delicious-looking free game hen that I no longer had an appetite for, all I could think was I'd have some nice leftovers for the next few days. When the waiter was gone, Claudine resumed her story.

"Oh," she sounded apologetic. "I'm afraid what I said might be misconstrued, Sookie." She laid her hand on mine. "I love being your fairy godmother. That's not what sucks. Really, you've been no trouble at all. Until now. And there's nothing to be ashamed about being fairy, even if you came about it through a little side-nookie."

"All right," I said uncertainly. "So what's the part that sucks?"

"Well, your great-grandfather—that is my grandfather, Niall—is having some issues with a relative. That relative is pretty angry at all of us as a result."

"Me too? But I don't even know any of you!"

"Oh, Sookie," Claudine's eyes met my own. "That doesn't matter! Breandan's crazy! He hates Niall and he'll do anything—kill anyone—to hurt Niall and eradicate the bloodline." She hesitated. "He's actually really got a beef with the half-breeds."

"Half-breeds?"

"You know," she gave me a doe-eyed grin. "Half-human, half-fairy."

A chill spread throughout me; suddenly I understood all too well what Claudine was telling me in her roundabout way.

"Claudine," I leveled my eyes on hers. "Are you trying to tell me that it wasn't just some random crazy person who pushed me off the subway platform? It was this Breandan person trying to kill me?"

"Yep. Well, it was actually Lochlan. Breandan is like Niall. Tends not to do his own dirty work." She shrugged, never losing her happy smile. "Of course, Niall's a prince. He shouldn't have to do his own dirty work. Breandan, on the other hand, is a jerk. He just needs to die."

~oooOOOooo~

Amelia, speechless, lets out a breath.

"So that was your dinner with the woman who saved you in the subway?"

"Yeah."

"Wow."

"I know."

"Did she say anything else?"

"Did she say anything else…" Repeating Amelia's words, I turn my head so I'm no longer meeting her eyes. "She said, 'You know it wouldn't be the worst thing in the world to spend time with tall, blonde and dead.'"

"What? She was talking about Eric? Why?"

"Because with a little luck, he and Breandan would kill each other," I replied simply, twisting around to face Amelia. "Two birds and one stone." If there's one thing I've learned about fairies is they're nothing if not pragmatic.

"What did you say to that?"

"I told her I'd think about it." I can be pragmatic too.

AN: Thank you for reading. Got to love Claudine. Beautiful. Infectious laugh. Twisted as all hell. Got to love CH too. She gave us a lot to play with.