I sat across the small room from Sookie and the phlebotomist. She had already received her CT scan. The solution she had to drink this morning looked like spoiled milk. This was the last test of the day and we would be called in for a consultation tomorrow. I watched as her blood began to flow along the plastic tubing and hit the end of the test tube with force. As much blood as they were insisting on taking from her, she would be weak as a newborn by the time we left the hospital. I was less than pleased. I sat there as the minutes passed, watching the young man in mauve scrubs remove and replace tube after tube. Halfway through the process Sookie became nauseous. He had to stop for a moment and begin again.

I left the lab on the second floor with Sookie leaning heavily on me. She smiled up at me as the elevator doors closed and we descended to the parking garage. "I got a cookie," she laughed softly. I knew she was trying to ease my mind and for her benefit I conceded to smile back. No use upsetting her more than she already was.

She was asleep before I pulled the rental car back up to street level. I was loath to wake her, exhausted as she was. I carried her through the hotel lobby, to the elevators, up to our room. I had planned a relaxing evening for her in our room – room service, a movie, champagne and a bath. There was no reason I could not put that on hold in favor of her rest. She obviously needed it.

I laid her gently on top of the bed and would let her rest for a few hours. If she had not awoken on her own by that time, I would change her clothing, tuck her under the blankets and watch her sleep. Now it was time to deal with business.

I shrugged out of my coat and tossed it over the back of one of the sitting room chairs. My laptop was plugged in and charging on the small table in the corner. I reached for the remote and turned on the television, tuning into the news. I didn't want Sookie hearing anything she wasn't already privy to if she woke up in the meantime. I checked the battery on my PDA and decided to let it charge for a bit before making my phone calls this evening. Instead I hunted for a blood and the microwave.

As I watched the bottle turn in the microwave, I listened to the announcer on the news station state that the death toll of the North American Ice Storm had reached eighty-five at final count. Houston was hit considerably by the freezing temperatures a week ago, and forced us to postpone our trip. Other than that, it seemed the top stories were centered around Windows Vista, tennis, and a racehorse's euthanasia. All of little importance.

I removed the blood from the microwave and swirled it around in the bottle to alleviate hotspots. I turned the TV volume up a few clicks and sat down in front of my laptop. I logged into Bill's database. I have conveniently fallen upon an all access account registration (Bill is nothing if not loyal – even if that loyalty is out of respect for Sophie-Anne). It has taken a deal of effort but, as an all access administrator (of whom all are anonymous), I have been able to keep most of my personal information out of the database. New entries are submitted and subsequently rejected. In this way, Bill and myself are able to keep the strictest control over the information we are feeding Victor. For Victor is Felipe de Castro's 'ace' in the Louisiana territories.

It disgusts me and makes Bill considerably disagreeable, but I have spent the past eighteen months tearing down what Sophie-Anne fought so hard to build through the vampire database. It is a necessary evil. With a few minor changes here and there of wording, or information 'slips', it is easy to sew seeds of doubt, and Bill has provided us with the ideal tool for the sewing.

There are few vampires left in the territories that are capable of pledging fealty to Felipe through Victor and still remaining loyal to the old regime. If all were centered near Shreveport, suspicions would thrive, and so, many of our allies lie in different jurisdictions these days, which makes doing business that much more tedious, and that much more worth the effort.

Pamela and Bill are my first arsenal. It is important to groom their profiles to display just enough malice and intrigue to imply accurate vampire goings on, while shielding other possible alliances and assets that could be of use to us at a later date.

I was editing an entry on Pam's time spent alone in the Midwest, when my phone began to vibrate.

"Yes."

"I trust you and Sookie are staying warm?"

"Compton. I expect this isn't simply a call after my well-being. As for Sookie," I looked over at her then, sleeping in the bedroom. I knew Bill would never completely let her go. He hadn't been the one faced with losing her forever, and he was jealous for that. Idiot. "She is exhausted. I've just put her to bed and I'm listening to the sounds of her sleeping." Let him take that as he would.

"She was supposed to have quite a bit of blood taken today." How did he know that? "She e-mailed me your itinerary. How is she feeling?"

"Well cared-for." I said nothing more, and he deserved nothing more. I let a faint hint of venom into my tone.

"I see you've been data basing," Compton supplied by way of changing the subject. "I received some interesting reports about your time in California. I destroyed them, as I assumed they were fictitious. Of course."

"Of course." I tried to keep the smile out of my voice.

"Have you made contact with Walker?"

"No. I will before I make the trip back. Can you make a trip out to New Jersey?"

"Now?" He sounded taken aback.

"In a few days. There's a new drug on the market, and I've called for a shipment to be delivered to the LSU Cancer Center, but someone must accompany it. You might also meet a girl in a coffee shop near Princeton. You should have a good time."

"Yes, I hear the student body is enticing." Bill sounded less than enthusiastic about the prospect of winter weather travel to meet a contact under the guise of procuring medication on Sookie's behalf. I really had ordered the drug.

"So long as you make your return flight, with the drug. It was rather expensive."

"Oh. Of course. How did the tests…?"

"We will see tomorrow. No doubt you will receive another e-mail." I grunted to signal the end of the conversation.

"Good evening, Eric." I hit end on the phone and opened a new browser window to compose an e-mail to our Princeton counterpart. I then set work aside for the rest of the night. I wanted to look in on Sookie.

I looked down on her sleeping form. She looked at odds with herself – peaceful and troubled. She was beautiful all the same. I studied the arch of her neck, the steady in and out rhythm of her breath. Her hair swam around her shoulders and across her abdomen in a soft tangled mass. I had requested that she leave it to grow. Now it marked the passage of the time that had been given to us. To her.

I reminded myself that my time would go on long after she was gone from this world.

I cursed her again in words too subtle to wake her. This was an argument we would have time and again. The same words would fall out of my mouth before my filter kicked in – the one I found I only employed for her benefit. Self-preservation.

I sat on the bed next to her and pulled her gently into my lap. She barely stirred. She looked almost miniature in her over-sized men's cardigan. I had heard her brother refer to it as her 'Mr. Rogers sweater'. It was large and graying-green in color, and must have belonged to her father or grandfather at some point. Though it was attractive the way she paired it with her very feminine skinny jeans and a tight black camisole. I pulled the collar of the sweater away from her enticing neck. My fangs came out completely.

I had thought of a moment like this for the past year. I closed my eyes and breathed in the scent of her deliriously enticing blood flowing beneath her skin. If I could just take enough – only a little more than usual. Then I would be the monster I had worked so hard to convince her did not exist. And she would never die again.

Rmph. "Eric?" I retracted my fangs and opened my eyes upon the angel in my arms. "What time is it? Oh, did I miss dinner?"

I sat her up and ordered room service, pilling the pillows behind her and the covers on top of her. She was looking through the list of pay per view movies when her meal arrived. "Ok. Pirates of the Caribean: 2, Little Miss Sunshine, or Lady In The Water?"

"Your choice, Lover."

"Stop being so nice to me!" she practically berated me. I could feel that she was frustrated and near the point of a breakdown. Childishly, I shut down as well.

"I put little importance on such human entertainment. Choose what you will. It means nothing to me." I could feel her hurt before I closed my mouth, but I had little time for regret. She picked up her plate of food, disentangled herself from the bed and stomped to the bathroom, closing and locking the door behind her. It was so childlike it would have been comical if it hadn't been maddening as hell.

When she opened the door twenty minutes later, I was sitting in the middle of the bed, sipping a blood. Calm. Patient. She was carrying an empty plate. Her hair was pulled back into a long loose ponytail, and she had removed her ancient cardigan. She sat the plate on the table in the sitting room and came to stand in front of the bed. She couldn't quite bring herself to look at me. Not yet. I knew this dance. She felt ashamed for lashing out, and too proud to admit it. Idiot woman. I held my laughter in but let a bit too much out across the bond.

"You think it's funny!" She squeaked. I saw, even in the dim light of the bedroom, the blush and smile start to spread across her face. I held out my hand to her. She climbed up onto the bed and into my lap. She laid her head against my chest and let out a ragged breath. "I'm sorry." She whispered. "I'm just so exhausted."

"You lost a lot of blood today. You need to feed." I looked down at her, stroking her arms. She tilted her head back to look into my eyes.

"So do you."

I cut my wrist and held it to her lips, feeling the hypnotic draw on my life force as it fed her. I leaned down and gently pressed my lips against her shoulder. My fangs came down and, as she breathed in deeply, my teeth pierced skin.

For a moment I felt pain. Then into the darkness, I heard a voice.

That pain exists for everyone. The possibilities are endless. Who's to say things will happen exactly the same way twice?