I am so sorry about the long delay for getting this chapter up. I hope you feel it has been worth it.

And thank you also to all those who have left such kind words for me. I haven't been able to return your kindness personally. But I appreciate every comment.

Merick

Chapter 11

Andre reeled backwards, he knew he'd heard her correctly, she'd said 'no' to his further advances, 'no' to another kiss, 'no' to him. He stood up, confused and sad, both expressions obvious in his face.

"Andre?" Sookie's own confusion did nothing to comfort him.

"I should leave." He began to stumble backwards, unsure of what to do for the first time in many, many years.

"No, please don't, I didn't mean it."

"I'm sorry."

"No, please, you didn't do anything wrong." Sookie stood as well, eyes pleading with Andre to understand, even though, by her own words, it was obvious she had no idea how to compose her thoughts. "It's just that you, you look,"

"Like a child? Like a monster? Worse? A freak?" He chose the word specifically because he was hurting; his first response was to hurt back.

"No, Andre, no, that isn't what I meant. I just can't, don't," Stuttering out her words, she reached for him and he took another step backwards, teetering on the edge of the porch. The slow progression of a car, crunching on the gravel gave him his escape.

"Your grandmother is coming, I shouldn't be here." Without waiting for Sookie to stumble over her words once again he tore away from her, as fast as he was able, leaving her, he was certain, even more confused at another revealed Vampire power.

Pausing for just a moment within the edge of the woods he looked back, hoping to see her following him, but of course that was an unreasonable wish. She had vanished from the porch, no doubt gone around to meet her Grandmother. His body was tight with anger, and misery and he fought back the blood tears that threatened to fall. How could he have become so, so, smitten by this breather? He gnashed his teeth together, fangs revealed, and curled his fingers into fists, not entirely certain what he wanted to destroy. Turning his back on her and the house, and the lights that were coming on, he began to run; swerving around the trees, toppling the small ones that got his way, until he had reached the clearing in the woods, the one with the peripheral shimmering, the one that made him feel odd, and hungry and curious. He fell to his knees as the whole 'vibration' of the place surrounded him and craned his head up to the night sky screaming, at first with rage, and fury and then despair. The blood tears rolled, his control was lost.

ooOOoo

Andre didn't know how much time had passed; he had been lost in self pity, wondering why Sookie had rejected him, and anger, wondering why he even cared? Her power was useless to him, she was just another breather, okay, not just another breather, one with Fairy genes that made her blood sing to him. But in the end she was simply another human wasn't she? Taste or not? (And he hadn't even tasted her). So why did this rejection hurt so much, she was nothing. Wasn't she? There was so much confusion he could barely sort through it. In all that chaos, he could hardly feel the demand of his body to find shelter because the day was dawning, everything was such a muddle of thoughts and instinct. Hands turned into claws, and dug into the dirt of the forest floor hardly bidden, carving out a grave into which Andre threw himself, piling the earth back over top of him. For the first time in hours, he thought it was hours, his mind went clear, and the tattered consciousness slept.

ooOOoo

The smell of earth was the first thing that assaulted his nostrils as he woke, it was musty and warm, and almost comforting in those first few moments of awareness, those blissful moments between oblivion and the return of memories. For when the thoughts did coalesce they hit Andre square in the chest, and their weight felt as though it was pushing him further into the ground, his limbs unable to respond. Above him he could hear the pounding of what was likely a Louisiana thunderstorm, but it was most certainly night, and he knew he had a decision to make. Heavy arms rose, fingers clawed at the loosened earth and Andre pulled himself from the pit, shaking the dirt from his hair and clothing. There was no way to remain clean when you slept in the earth, and when you awoke to a storm. The trees provided some cover, but still the rain plastered his shirt to his chest and flattened his hair to his head. The cold from the elements didn't bother him, but the cold in his veins did. The whole expanse seemed oppressive at that moment, almost as if an outside force was trying to influence his decisions, pushing him towards leaving, going back to Shreveport, and then on to New Orleans, unfulfilled, and defeated. But something fought against that idea, something that wanted him, needed him to return to the old farmhouse, to set things straight, to retrieve some of his damaged dignity, and to see, just one last time, if Sookie really wanted nothing to do with him. It was pitiful, his anger spat at him, he should return and take what he wanted from the girl and then cast her aside, on his terms. He clutched at his head as if the voices were palpable, and stumbled away from the clearing, deeper into the forest, where the pounding rain was thinner, and his mind seemed to clear a little. He was going back to the house, he knew that, if only to satisfy himself of the truth of her feelings, and his own. And then he could take his leave permanently of this backwater. Gritting his teeth, fangs included, he began to walk.

The house was quiet, excepting the sounds of nature, rain pounding on the old roof, water cascading down the drain spouts and pattering against the windows. It was empty, no heartbeats to be heard, even masked by the drumming. Sookie's car was gone. Andre had no idea when she might return, if she was out, if she was working, it made little difference to him. He was prepared to wait, as long as it took, until she returned and he could see her, question her if need be, with whatever persuasion was required. But where to wait for her, he pondered? He could wait on the porch, at least he'd be out of the rain, but then he would have to sit and watch it, and run the risk of all his insecurities and rage coming to the fore to taint their eventual reunion. No, he quickly rejected that idea, and settled on doing something physical. The pile of logs remained, still not split for the fireplace. It took no genius to determine that there would be an axe in the garden shed, where else would someone keep such a tool? Certainly not in the house, and there was no garage. His intuition proved correct. Setting the largest of the sections flat on the soggy ground Andre lifted the first piece atop it and began swinging the ax, splitting each round into halves, and then those into halves again, with rhythmic cracks, even louder than the thunder. It felt good.

When he had been human, physical labor had been an escape. It was a respite from the abuse, because you had to concentrate, at least enough to avoid cutting off your own limbs, and it was repetitive, you could measure every beat, of a breath, of a heart, of the fall of the ax. He focused on each swing, heard the wood squeal as it split, and felt the satisfying broken edges as he tossed each quarter onto a rapidly growing pile, even as the rain soaked his clothing through and nearly blinded each heft. He heard the car approach, but ignored it, still not certain what he would do if it were Sookie. The ax slammed into another log. He heard the car come to a stop. Footsteps were lost in the driving rain and the thrum of the ax against the wood.

"Andre?" It was her, safe on her porch, out of the rain, calling to him; he didn't look up at her.

"Andre?" She repeated, a little louder, "What are you doing?"

"I promised you firewood, as payment for my keep. I intend to fulfill that promise." The ax fell again.

"Come out of the rain, you'll catch your death."

"I'm already dead!" He spat back, anger making the first pronouncement. Finally taking his eyes, and muscles from the task of splitting the wood, Andre turned them to her. Her face was ashen, her eyes wide, her hands wrapped around her chest tightly, as if she was afraid that she might fall apart. She moved down the steps towards him, very slowly.

"Andre, you are frightening me!" It was less a yell than a loud supplication directed at him.

"That's what monsters do!" He slammed the ax down into the largest log, the one he had been using as a support, burying it halfway up the blade.

"You aren't a monster."

"Of course I am." His words were sharp.

"Not to me." Her words in return were, soft and pleading.

That statement stopped him; held his anger and tore it, and let the sorrow begin to leak through. She closed the few steps between them, still moving cautiously.

"Then why?" He asked, his tight eyes and clenched jaw falling. Even his fangs receded. "Why did you push me away?"

"I was, I am so confused Andre. It's so hard to explain."

He begged her to try with his honest gaze and limp shoulders.

"You're the first person I can't hear. I know what people think about me, what they feel about me. You are the first real unknown in my life Andre. I have to trust, but I don't even trust myself. I don't know what these feelings are; I don't know what your feelings are. What do I do?" She reached out for him, her right hand brushing his cheek and curving around his neck. He felt the gentle pull of her fingers, coaxing him forward.

"I can't tell you what to do Sookie. I only know what I want." He whispered, his eyes closing as she drew near, brushing her lips against his. He fought with his resolve, even as he felt the soft pressure of her mouth, and the warmth of her body radiating around them both. The rain cascaded over them as they kissed, making her shiver, he presumed, with cold.

"You should get in out of the rain." He told her.

"Not without you Andre." The water was flattening her blond hair to the sides of her face and trickling down her cheeks like tears.

"Your Grandmother won't like that."

"She isn't here. Please, come out of the rain with me?" She reached for his hand, tangling her fingers into his and tugging just a little. He tried halfheartedly to resist, but resolve broken by her nearness, he let her lead him away.

Sookie dropped his hand, only long enough to fumble her keys into the lock and turn it, it would have been enough time to run, but Andre knew that it was never going to happen. The door swung inwards, and Sookie crossed the threshold, looking back at him

"You have to invite me in." He whispered.

"What?"

"Say the words, it's, important."

"Andre? Won't you please come in out of the rain?"

He followed her through the open door into the dark house. It was how he had imagined it. Cluttered with knick-knacks, filled with old furniture, shiny spots on the rugs and wear patterns from multiple generations in the wood. It smelled of home cooking, no cigarette smoke there, and flowers and potpourri, things that might once have offended Andre's heightened senses, but right then, did not. He kicked off his muddy shoes.

"Come over to the fireplace, I've got it all set up." Sookie looked over at him, "Are you okay to start a fire here?"

"Fire doesn't bother me Sookie." His voice was quiet, even to his own ears. He sounded mesmerized, which he supposed upon thinking about it, that he was.

"Good, the lighter is on the mantle, I'll go get us some towels." Andre heard her footsteps pad away from him, and he watched his hand reach for the lighter, almost as if it wasn't even his own. He felt so displaced. He managed to light the logs that were there, and to stand back and watch the flames begin to lick around them, mesmerized. He only came back to himself when Sookie returned and her voice overrode the crackling.

"Give me your shirt, you're completely soaked." She was holding out a hand for it, a pile of towels now deposited in a wooden recliner of some sort. He pulled it off over his head and turned to her. Despite the water her scent clung to her and again Andre felt the drunken type of disorientation in his head. Though perhaps it had more to do with the fact that she had changed out of her wet sundress, (what had been its color, he couldn't remember), into a white robe, cotton he suspected, that clung to her body in an angelic silhouette.

"Thank you." He gave over his shirt and was handed a towel, though water continued to puddle around his feet.

"I guess you'd better give me your pants too." A blush rose in her cheek as she looked at him, it was beyond charming. "I'll turn around."

Her back was nearly as beautiful as her front, disguised as it was by the robe. Her thin waist, a gently rounded bottom, and toned legs, framed by the thin fabric. If he cold have drawn a breath to steady himself, Andre would have. As it was he struggled to undo the buttons at his waist, and to let the pants fall down to his ankles. Quickly wrapping himself in the towel so as to be modest, he scooped up the sodden pile and took the two steps to her.

"Here." He offered, touching her shoulder very softly, afraid to break whatever spell was being woven around them. She turned back, eyes looking straight at the ground.

"Thanks, maybe I'll just run and put these in the wash." Her voice was nervous, and Andre was fairly certain that it wasn't because she was staring at his now bare feet and ankles. But she was gone again before he could grasp the presence of mind to object. He returned to watching the fire take hold.

The orange and yellow tendrils flickered and embraced the dried wood with snaps of varying pitch and intensity. It was certainly not the first fire Andre had ever seen, and it was not likely to be the last. But it was the most important one that he could recall just then, and its warmth was like a blessing. Andre closed his eyes and let the feel of it wash over his body, towel still wrapped around his waist.

"You look peaceful." Was the quiet observation from behind him. "I'm glad. I was so worried for you Andre."

"You shouldn't worry for me Sookie." He opened his eyes slowly. The fire had taken a greater hold of its prey and was dancing merrily in the blackened hollow.

"You're my friend, I worry for all my friends." Hands touched both his shoulders from behind, and he felt her body follow them, drawing nearer to his skin.

"I don't think I've ever had a friend before." He mused.

"Not even the person who changed you?" Her hands drifted down his arms.

"A companion, someone I love, but perhaps not a friend."

"You have me."

He turned in her grasp to face her. Both about the same height, they looked directly at each other. That time Andre began the kiss, his insides demanding it, his arms wrapping her close, lips parting hers with desperation. He clung to her, deliberately breathing in her scent, coupling it with the taste of her. His fangs dropped, accompanied by a wash of electricity that radiated from his head down to his very toes, leaving him with a delicious shudder and the beginnings of a physical arousal he could not hide.

He felt her pull away, but could not stop looking at her. As he watched, her fingers rose and touched his lips. He let his jaw drop, knowing somehow that it was the fangs that were so fascinating her just then.

"Have I made you angry?" She asked

"No Sookie, not at all."

"Then why are your fangs down?"

"It is because I am, aroused by you Sookie."

"You are?"

"You are honestly, the most beautiful person I have ever seen Sookie; inside and out."

"Wow."

He could not help but allow himself a little laugh at her innocent response.

"No one has ever said anything that nice to me before."

"Then they are fools." He kept her held in his arms.

"It's kind of a fairy tale sort of thing." She smiled at him.

The smile, her scent, the taste of her kiss and Andre knew he was lost. Every power he'd had to distance himself, to play the rational, calculated game was gone. All he wanted, betrayed by his body and his mind, was to have her then.

"It's like a dream. Am I dreaming Andre?"

"Please Sookie." Andre could not remember ever being so afraid of a question, at least not as a Vampire. "Please. We can turn out the lights, I can be any lover you want me to be, any fantasy."

Sookie let out a very long breath and stared at Andre, he could see so much passing before him in the depth of her blue eyes as he waited for her response, any response.

"I don't want you to be anyone else Andre. I just want you to be yourself." She whispered.