A/N: Sorry for the delay in updates, guys - real life has been a bit of a pest, but is (I hope) now back on track. I've also been trying to finish the last few chapters of this story, and a couple of other multi-chapter stories (one for Christmas, if I can get it done in time), and some one-shots - as well as the usual Christmas preparations. I like a challenge, me.


It had been about a week or so since Eric's visit to Merlotte's, and I'd given no more thought to the mysterious Bill Compton. This evening, though, he was sitting back in my area, as large as life. Sam gave me a concerned look. "You want me to take that table?" he murmured.

"It'll be more obvious if you do," I muttered back.

"If he gives you any trouble, let me know. I'll keep an eye out."

I nodded, and went over to the vampire's table. "What can I get you?"

"A bottle of True Blood, please. Whatever type you have."

I heated a bottle, like Sam had showed me, and took it over to his table, placing it on a folded napkin. "Anything else for you?" I asked politely.

"I wanted to thank you. For your part in the incident the other evening."

Inwardly I gulped, but outwardly, managed to stay looking calm. "Oh, but all I did was make a phone-call to Mr Northman, like Sam asked me," I said, playing the part of the dumb blonde. "It was Sam who did all the hard work."

He looked unhappy. "Nevertheless… I was brought up to give thanks where it's due. I understand we're close neighbours?"

Damn; he'd figured that out. Well, I guessed there weren't too many other Stackhouses in Bon Temps to choose from – just me, Gran, and Jason, and you couldn't exactly get us mixed up, especially when Gran and I lived together. "That's right. Just across the cemetery," I confirmed through gritted teeth. There was no point in lying, after all.

"It's a way out of town to be living on your own."

It was said pleasantly, curiously, but it sent a shiver down my spine after some of the conversations I'd had with Eric. "I don't live alone," I smiled, not intending to elaborate.

"Oh?"

I growled internally. "I live with my grandmother." I had a vision of myself as Little Red Riding Hood, and Bill Compton as the wolf. 'What big teeth you have', 'all the better to eat you with, my dear.'

"Oh! I should come and pay my respects some evening."

I wasn't sure how to respond to that, but then another voice chimed in. "He bothering you, Sookie?"

Great; this evening was going from bad to worse. First Bill Compton, now Rene Lenier. "It's all good, thanks, Rene. Mr Compton was just being polite."

"Sookie," called Sam from behind the bar, effectively breaking the tension, "burger and fries up for Andy Bellefleur."

I breathed a sigh of relief. "'Scuse me, duty calls," I said brightly, hustling to the bar. "Thanks, Sam," I whispered in passing, as I picked up Andy's order.

"No problem, cher."

Unsurprisingly, there was a text message waiting for me when I checked my phone. Felt your unease. Call me when safe to do so.

I muttered under my breath about people being high-handed and ordering me around, but immediately felt ashamed of myself; he was concerned for my safety, and I had a nasty feeling it was justified. I slipped my phone back into my purse, and went back to the bar. I was relieved to see that Rene, at least, had left.

I was surprised to see Jason there, though. He looked upset, as though he'd been crying. "Jason? What's wrong?"

"Sookie, you need to come home."

"What's happened? Jason, is it Gran?" I asked, alarmed.

"Uncle Bartlett," he snuffled.

"Son of a bitch, if's he's hurt Gran, I'll…"

"No… no, Sookie, it's Uncle Bartlett. He… he's dead, Sookie."

"Dead?" A cold feeling crept up on me. "What happened?"

"He was… he was arrested," he said rapidly, quietly. "He was in police custody. He collapsed in his cell this morning. They couldn't revive him."

I stood there, suddenly ashamed of my immediate suspicion that Eric had been involved. If he'd collapsed in daylight hours, in a cell, no vampire could have been responsible, and I doubted that Eric, devious as I realised he could be, would risk discovery by using a human – even a crooked cop – to do his dirty work. Though in my memory my uncle was still the monster he'd been when I was a child, he'd be old, and probably frail, by now; perhaps his arrest had been the final straw. I couldn't bring myself to feel sorry he was gone.

Sam had overheard. "Go on, Sook. Your Gran will need you. It's quiet this evening, I'll cover your tables. Go home."

"I'm going that way, if you need a lift, Miss Stackhouse."

I'd forgotten about Bill Compton. "I have my car here, thanks," I said politely.

"Are you sure you're safe to drive?" he asked, sounding concerned. "I'm sorry, I couldn't help over-hearing. In your bereaved state…"

"I hated my great-uncle while he was alive, and I don't give a rat's ass that he's dead," I snapped at him. "I'm going home because my Gran will want me there, not because I'm grieving. I'm perfectly capable of driving myself home, thank you very much."

I flounced out with Jason following me out. "Was he bothering you?" he asked, in a subdued tone.

"Kinda," I answered. "I tried giving him a gentle brush-off, but he didn't take the hint. Look, if he asks you anything about me, just…"

"I'll tell him to back off," he said. "Sook, I owe you an apology."

I tried not to let my surprise show; I'd long since decided to block Jason's thoughts (there are some things you just don't want to know about your nearest and dearest), so I hadn't picked up on what he was thinking. "What for?"

"For not believing you. About Uncle Bartlett. Seems there was an anonymous tip-off about him having… having…" he looked sick, and I suddenly felt sorry for him. My great-uncle had never molested him, and Jason had been fond of him. He'd never believed him capable of what he'd done to me.

"Having what?" I asked, though I knew only too well.

"Child pornography. They found stuff hidden away in his attic. Apparently, he went quietly, knew the game was up. He broke down under questioning and confessed to – to what he did to you. And to Hadley, and Aunt Linda." I found myself enveloped in Jason's arms. "I'm so, so sorry, Sook."

I hugged him back, allowing a few tears to fall, at his apology; something inside me that had hurt, when he hadn't believed me, healed a little. "Let's get back to Gran, okay? However much she hated him for what he did, he was still her brother. It must be hurting her."

Jason nodded. "Can you give me a lift? Hoyt dropped me off here on his way home." Hoyt Fortenberry worked with Jason, and they'd been friends for years. I guess he'd realised that Jason really wasn't fit to drive.

"Sure, jump in." I was glad to get out of there, but I felt uneasy about Bill's attention. I resolved to call Eric as soon as I could.

Gran was remarkably calm when we got home. I guess it was how she was brought up, and she was still furious with him for the way he'd behaved. There wasn't anything to say, really, so in the end, I drove Jason back to his place. I enjoyed the silence on the way back home, though I felt numb at the thought of my uncle's death. I certainly couldn't feel any grief at his passing, and to pretend it would have been hypocritical.

It was late by the time I got home (for the second time that evening), and I automatically checked my phone. Two missed calls and a text message from Eric. If I don't hear from you soon, I will assume the worst and come looking for you.

I gave a wan smile, and headed to my room. Gran had already gone to bed; I hoped she'd taken a sleeping pill as I'd suggested. I dialled Eric's number; it was answered almost immediately.

"Sookie, my little trouble-magnet, where have you been?"

"Driving Jason home. Uncle Bartlett's dead."

"I would say I'm sorry for your loss, but it would be a lie. I'm not sorry, and he is no loss to you."

Well, that was blunt and to the point. It was also completely true. "Well, Jason was fond of him," I said. "I'd have called you earlier if it wasn't for Jason coming and bringing the news."

"It wasn't hearing of his death that made you uneasy, then?" he asked.

"No. Bill Compton was in Merlotte's."

"Oh?" His tone was quite a bit colder. "He has every right to be there, of course."

"Yes, he does," I agreed.

"But he made you feel uncomfortable?" he pressed.

I told him what had happened, down to Rene's intervention (and Sam's), and Bill's offer of driving me home. "I'm probably just over-reacting," I said, playing it down. "It's just… after some of the things we've talked about…"

"Yes, of course. It may be nothing; but equally, it may be something." There was a pause. "I wish I could put a guard on your house, but doing so would only alert Bill – and perhaps others – that there is some association between us."

"Damned if you do, damned if you don't," I sighed.

He chuckled. "Your Christian church would have you believe I'm damned anyway, my darling." I glowed a little internally, and he chuckled again. "You like me calling you that."

It was a statement, not a question, so I didn't dignify it with a response. "I feel as though I've got vultures circling all around me at the moment," I said with a shiver.

He was silent for a while. "I will try to arrange for Lenier to be watched," he said thoughtfully, "if only at night. That can be linked to this ongoing investigation, not to you as such. As for Compton…"

"Could he glamour Gran into letting him into the house? Or Jason or Gran into giving him information about me?"

"Regrettably, yes, he could."

"Isn't there anything I can do?" I asked in frustration.

"Not without it being effectively a big flashing light drawing attention to yourself, no." It was small comfort that he sounded every bit as frustrated as I was.

"So I just go on pretending to be a normal girl without a care in the world until he decides to make a move? What if he goes after Gran, or Jason? What if he kidnaps me? What if…" I tensed suddenly. "There's someone outside my house. A vampire. I can sense a void where the thoughts should be."

"I know," he said calmly.

"What?" I hissed down the phone.

"I'm standing on the porch. Come and let me in, there's a good girl." I muttered something about being called a good girl, and he laughed. "I'd be enchanted if you'd be a bad girl for me, Sookie, but I doubt that's going to happen any time soon."

Still muttering under my breath, I went to open the door for him, drinking in the sight of him, from the heavy boots to the intricately braided hair. I felt considerably better, now that he was there, and shut the door thankfully behind him. I turned round, but before I could say anything, his mouth was on mine, his arms pulling me close against him. I tried to remember why this was a bad idea (my body certainly seemed to think it was a pretty darned good idea), and eventually gave up trying.

He didn't do anything more than kiss me, but he'd had over a thousand years to perfect his technique, and he clearly hadn't wasted any of it. I pulled away, finally, needing to breathe. "Hello to you, too," I said with a faint smile. "How did you get here? I didn't see a car out front."

"I flew. It's easier to go unnoticed."

"You flew? You can fly?"

"Mm-hmm." His lips started investigating the spot behind my ear, and I shivered.

"W-why did you…" I began, not quite able to make a coherent sentence.

"I told you, if I didn't hear from you soon, I was going to come looking for you," he murmured. "I was already on my way when you called."

"But you – ah…"

He flicked my earlobe with his tongue, and nibbled gently, then went back to kissing behind my ear. "I believe I've found a chink in your armour, my darling," he murmured, as I gasped and jerked against him.

"Don't bite me," I forced out as he kissed down my neck.

"Not till you ask me to," he promised, feathering his lips over my collarbone.

"Not having sex with you, either."

He made an amused sound. "Are you trying to convince me or yourself?"

Both, I figured, but there was no way I was admitting that to him. He let me push him away gently. "You don't seem convinced that I mean it."

He didn't laugh. "I know you mean it at the moment. I know you have reservations. I also know that your body responds to my touch, to my presence, to my voice."

Damned blood.

"I know you want me, Sookie. I told you, I will wait." Then he gave me a puckish smile. "But I will also do my best to persuade you."

I guess there was no arguing with that.