First, I want to thank you all so much for your lovely reviews and for following this story, and for being so supportive. You are all amazing, and I love you all. Hoping you enjoy this one. As usual, I'm extremely nervous LOL. Feel free to let me know your thoughts :-)


Chapter Twelve

It feels odd having Eric Northman in my bedroom. Even if it is with my permission this time around.

I'm not quite sure where we go from here. It's obvious he's expecting me to go ahead and rip off my clothes, and let him have his way. Maybe that's a sufficient demonstration of gratitude to a vampire who just threatened another for me?

I gaze at his face nervously as he walks around the room curiously, like a man lost in a strange and unfamiliar world. He glances around, assessing everything. He goes over to my dresser, which is cluttered with hair products, body moisturizer, and make-up. He picks up one of my lip balms and inspects it curiously, uncaps it, and holds it up his nose. I'm pretty sure I hear him inhale it in.

"Nice room, by the way," he says, stunning me. I can't tell whether he's being serious or patronizing.

"It's nothing all that fancy. I know."

He holds up my lip balm into the air, and turns his eyes onto me. "Is this supposed to be one of those scented things?"

I don't know whether to laugh by the odd interest he has in my lip balm. "Um, no. It's not meant to be scented."

"I was going to say, if so, they failed..." He holds it up to his nose again, and takes in another deep sniff. "I can't smell a single fucking thing."

"You're not meant to smell anything."

He nods distractedly, and his eyes fall onto my bed, where they rest there for a long moment. Here it is, it's finally going to happen. It's now or never, and tonight was a decent enough time as any.

Having him in bedroom, it almost makes me feel prepared and ready. I feel all tense with anticipation. Honestly, I just want to get this damn thing over between us, as quickly as possible. It would feel good not having to worry about what's coming around the corner, sooner or later.

Taking in a deep breath for courage, and making my unsteady limbs work, I pull off my woollen jumper over my head and throw it down at my feet, all the while judging his reaction to it. Hmmm. Nothing. He simply stands there, his thumbs hooked into the sides of his leather belt holding up his jeans, casually inspecting my room. He goes over to the desk that holds my old computer on it, paying me no attention whatsoever. He doesn't even send a leering look my way, no less. Not even a filthy remark. Well, it's pretty disappointing.

He raises a hand to the computer desk and his fingers give the old keyboard a good work-out, pressing down numerous random keys. When he finally turns to look at me, he shows no indication that he knows I've removed one article of clothing, and that I am intending to take more off, anytime soon.

"Do you know how to set-up email accounts?" he asks me, completely out of the blue. Um, okay. It throws me off balance, in a super big way. I'm getting ready to undress myself for sex, and he's interested in my computer instead? Since when? What happened to that vampire a few nights ago, who was saying all this perverted and sexual stuff to me (and, not to mention... insinuating coffin sex)? Where did he go because he's certainly not here, present in this room?

"Um, of course, I do." Setting up an email address wasn't the most difficult thing in the world. Maybe he wasn't all that great with computers?

"Can you help me? Pam's the techie. I don't know half a shit about computers." It occurs to me he is being completely sincere on that; He actually wants me to help him set up an email address, for goodness sake.

"Um, sure." I can't deny I'm feeling a bit deflated in mood, but I succeed in not letting it show. We spend a few moments waiting for my computer to boot up, and he stares at the screen in strangely hilarious confusion. How funny. Eric Northman doesn't know how to do something as simple as using a computer. It wasn't something I was expecting. "You seriously don't know how to use a computer?" I ask him, in disbelief.

"Yes." He doesn't sound too happy to admit that to me.

I can't help but laugh at the absurdity of it all.

"Is something fucking funny?"

"No, it's just... I can't believe you don't know how to use a computer."

"Pam uses it," he says defensively. "She's always on E-Bay. They didn't have this shit around thirty years ago. I don't understand the trend."

"You can go right ahead and sit in the computer chair," I tell him, making sure to put my hand on his back. His entire back and shoulders stiffen rigidly, before he yanks out the computer chair from underneath the desk and sits. I just love that I can make him feel uncomfortable, and all it takes is touching him. I make big, notorious vampire Eric Northman nervous simply by touching him. That knowledge pleases me to no end. I am a wickedly happy girl. "Now we've just got to open up the email account for you." I lean against the back of the computer chair and reach down over his shoulder with my hand, being real careful to invade his personal space, while I do it. I open up the internet, resting my chin near the side of his face, just an inch or so from his earlobe. He stiffens again, and I hear him make a deep noise from the very back of his throat. It's a very exhilarating sound that tells me my close proximity to him is having intended effect. "Are you following me?"

He brings a tightly fisted hand up to his mouth, and presses the back of his knuckles against his lips. He clears his throat loudly, as if he's got a frog caught in it or something. "Yes," he says, his voice coming out muffled and hoarse against his skin.

"Now you just got to write down your details, and what you want your email address to be."

"All right. I think I can handle it from here." I can tell he is majorly annoyed at having me help him set up an email-address. He must think it's detrimental to his pride, or something. He glances down at the keyboard like it's a foreign contraption, and let's his hand fall from his mouth. His large fingers hover over the keys uncertainly. "Now what?" he barks out impatiently.

"You just write in your name, and details. It isn't that hard."

"Well, it is to me." He says it like he's admitting to some inexorable fault. I find it quite endearing he doesn't know much about technology, really. I have to stifle a smile, pressing my lips together.

He starts to type his name, slowly and carefully pressing down into the keys with the tips of his fingers. My Lord, we'll be here all night, by the looks of it.

I remain standing over him, repeatedly touching him occasionally and singing him high praises despite his slowness. I touch his shoulders with my hands, and be sure to keep my cheek near his. His hands get dramatically slower from their typing, each and every time I do. By the time he is finished typing everything out- which takes roughly over twenty-five minutes- I notice his hands and fingers are trembling.

"Now what, Perky?"

"All right. You just press that blue enter button right there and, hopefully, it'll work."

"What blue enter button?" he asks, far too loudly than what I consider necessary.

I'm getting all frustrated myself, because it's rubbing off on me. "The one on the damn screen!"

"Oh." He stabs a finger down onto the mouse, realizing, and we wait as patiently as we possibly can until it gives us the confirmation that his address has all been set up. Unfortunately, it goes back to the same page.

"You didn't put in your birth date," I tell him, trying not to sound too sullen.

"Well, it doesn't go back that far." He's speaking through clenched teeth. "It doesn't go back a thousand-fucking-years!"

Jesus Christ Almighty. "Then just make up your birth date. Select any one. Lie."

"Which date, then?"

"Just choose any goddamn one. There really isn't any need to be so picky!"

He makes a gruff noise, a grunt at me over my obvious frustration- oddly enough, sounding like a suppressed laugh- and, at true last, picks one. It's a success this time, and an unfamiliar weight lifts instantly off my shoulders. Eric sags in the computer chair in relief. Finally. Hallelujah, it's over! Now we can move onto more important and interesting things...

Like taking off our clothes, and...

Heaven forbid... Sex.

He stands from the computer chair fluidly, and stares at me, with an odd look I can't quite gather. It seems like a look that says to me: Well, here we are. Let's do this. Let's have the sex you promised me.

I feel this is it. It begins now. Why else would he come into my room, after all? He's expecting it, I know he is. And maybe I am, too.

"My Grandmother is in her room across the hall," I inform him meaningfully. "We might just have to be a bit quiet."

He blinks at me several times, folding his arms over his chest. "What?"

I come at him mercilessly, and he tries to take a step back. He almost stumbles back into the computer chair, if he hadn't caught himself in the nick of time, and straightened himself up. He grabs onto the desk quickly for support with a hand, when I near him and rise up onto the tips of my toes to finally get at him.

He clutches my face in his hands, catching me unfairly before I even so much as have the time to kiss him, and I raise my eyes to hold his anxious gaze. It's like he is questioning me with his eyes alone; Do I want this, right here and now? Hell, yes. I damn well do. I'm nervous, as any first-timer would be. But I feel tonight's the right time for it, the right... moment, for it to finally happen. Especially after what he did for me tonight, off his own back, with the Vampire Bill.

I feel like I saw a different side to him tonight. A dangerous, but ultimately caring side of him. He silvered the Vampire Bill up to a tree, for me. Now it is my turn to give him something. And what better thing to give him, than this? We made an agreement, after all. I would have sex with him, if he met my Grandmother. And, now that he already has, why delay it any longer? Now is a good enough time as any.

"I mightn't know much, but I know I'm ready for this," I confess, my voice barely audible. But fortunately, he hears me, loud and clear. I bring my hands up to wrap them around his upper arms, feeling around curiously. He's surprisingly very muscular. "I want to get it over and done with. I want you to have me, like I swore you would, but... I also want you to keep in mind, that this will be my first time, and that I've never done something like this before. I'll need you to take it easy on me, and for you to show me the way." I try to give him a nervous smile, but my face feels all hot and twitchy. Must be the nerves. "Is that all right with you?" I ask, assessing him anxiously for any sign of expression into how he feels on this.

And there's... nothing.

I can't read him at all. I truly wish I could read his mind somehow, know how he was feeling about all of this, because I haven't the slightest clue on earth.

The pads of his thumbs brush underneath my eyes softly, and my breath gets caught in my throat, when his fangs make their way out between his slightly parted lips. I wince, unable to control it, even though I was expecting them, sooner or later. I now find myself wishing I wasn't so nervous of them, or wary. He surely can't help it that he comes with a pair of fangs... He is a vampire, after all.

And, for the very first time, since he ever came into my life, I feel almost like I want to experience them. I want them on me, as crazy as it is. I want to learn how it feels when being bitten, by a vampire. And that vampire is standing right before me. It's him I want to share my first time with; This maddening, hot-headed vampire, is the one I want to give myself over to completely.

"My Lord," I breathe out nervously, shaking with laughter, when the silence on his end becomes almost unbearable. "Can you say something? Just any little thing will do, please. I feel like a total fool right now, and you saying nothing really isn't helping anything!"

Lifting my hand tentatively, I stroke the skin peeking out of his V-neck shirt with my fingers, the closest thing I can find. Skin on skin contact. This is lovely. I want more, though. I notice his breathing getting louder and his lips part wider, showing even more of the length of those glistening white fangs to me, and it pleases me to the moon and back. I absolutely love that my forward touching flusters him, in some unexplainable way. It's oddly... empowering, and incredibly attractive of him.

"Say something," I plead again unevenly.

"Fucking what, though?" he whispers gruffly, very clueless.

"I don't know. Anything, I guess." I smile up at him, licking my lips to moisten them. "Anything will do at this point in time..."

Slowly, I glide my fingers up over his throat. I feel his skin twitch underneath the tips of them, as he swallows audibly. It becomes obvious to me that he is feeling just as nervous as I am, and it reassures me wonderfully. But I wish I wasn't the only one doing all the experimented touching. His hands remain still, cradling my face, his thumbs stroking around my cheekbones. Maybe he is unsure on where he is supposed to touch me? I can think of thousands of places I'd very much like those hands and fingers to be.

His eyes are wide and luminous, as they peer deeply into mine. I know he is afraid, and nervous by me touching him. I can just tell. And, I think, it makes me want this with him even more. He's being surprisingly self-contained for a vampire.

I hear him catch his breath and make an odd noise emulating from the very back of his throat, when I lean up on my tiptoes and place a soft, gentle kiss on the exposed skin of his chest. He swallows again loudly, and I can hear his breathing growing increasingly shallower by the minute.

"I'm tired of this shit," he murmurs, sounding very frustrated.

I lean back to meet his eyes questioningly. What's he tired of? Me? This? He doesn't want this? Not here? Not now?

"Tired of what?" I'm alarmed by how quiet and breathless my voice sounds as I speak the words. I hardly recognize myself.

"This..." He lifts his gaze and stares past my head, defiantly ignoring me. His eyes narrow at the wall across my head, in a vaguely disgusted way, like he's appalled in the color of the paint or something. "I don't understand this at all."

"Understand what?" I urge desperately, holding my breath. I need to know. It sure would help right now. He doesn't respond, simply stares straight ahead. I grip his shoulders tightly between my hands, and try to give him a little encouraging shake. Well, as much of a gentle shake as I possibly can, in my irritation. "What's there to understand here?"

"The fluttering. Everything." He blinks ahead at me, seemingly confounded by this frequently mentioned fluttering.

We're back to this. The unknown fluttering. Again. I don't even understand what he means by it myself.

"Maybe you should describe it a little more for me, so that we can work it out together," I suggest, purposefully making my voice lighter and sympathetic. "Describe it for me. Where exactly is this fluttering you feel?"

He finally brings his eyes back down to mine. He shakes his head slightly in exasperation. "You wouldn't understand, even if I tried..."

"Oh, come on," I growl, clutching tighter onto his shoulders. "Try me, Mister. Just say it. I don't think you give me the credit I deserve, frankly."

I can hardly breathe, the need to know is killing me...

"You mention it all the time. Where does this fluttering originate from?"

He sighs through his nostrils deeply. "Inside of me."

"All righty." I nod, in a hopefully supportive manner. "And where inside, exactly?"

"I've never felt it before. I think it's... somewhere inside of me-" He stops abruptly, breathing heavily, at a loss in how to explain it. "I don't even know whether the fuck it is, or where it came from, but it... it happens for me. A lot, lately."

All right. Now we're getting somewhere... Finally. I thought it was going to take hours, and hours.

"Like the jitters?" I ask, helping him. He blinks down at me like I've said something in another language. "Like nerves, you mean?"

He shrugs underneath my hands. "I don't know what the fuck it's called," he breathes, almost helplessly. His voice is barely audible.

"You get nervous." I caress his cheek, and I feel the muscles of his jaw clench underneath my palm. "Everybody get's nervous. It's not a big thing!"

He closes his eyes at my words. I can tell he isn't very pleased. "Not me," he insists vehemently. "I do not get fucking nervous. It isn't nervous, it isn't that."

"But what you described as a fluttering feeling... everybody get's that when they're nervous!" I laugh, I can't seem to help it. It's just so endearing to me that he doesn't know how it feels to be nervous. I feel my bones soften into jelly. "It's a completely normal thing that clearly both vampire's and human's get. We're not so different, after all. I get nervous myself!" Especially in front of you, I add mentally, too proud to say it.

"It's not nerves," he grumbles, very defensively. "It's fucking weird, is what it is. I don't get nervous. Not for anyone. The fluttering is something else. Inside my chest."

I try a different method, because he's clearly far too proud to admit it himself that he, Eric Northman, even gets occasionally nervous. "All right. When does it happen then? The fluttering?"

He sighs heavily again through his nose, and fixes his attention back on the wall across from me. He looks so reluctant to continue our conversation about this mysterious fluttering. So... disgusted and full of disbelief. "It happens mostly when..." His face scrunches up, like he can taste something sour on the tip of his tongue. I have to hold in a laugh. "...I am around you. It does not happen when I am around anyone else."

It throws me off for a second. Holy ass. I make him fluttery? Me, and me alone.

"You get nervous around me. It's not a big deal."

"Well, it is for me," he whispers, as if it's such a terribly disgraceful thing. "Pam thinks I'm just turning fucking soft, which I probably am. It all started, for me, the very same night you entered my office in Fangtasia. Or no..." He pauses, thinking deeply for a moment. "Maybe it was when you forced me into dancing, and then groped my fucking balls." I cringe at how casually he brings it up. Oh, boy. I want to forget that even happened. Most awkward moment ever.

I pale. He's been talking about me to his daughter?

"No human has ever touched me outright like that. You remind me of Pam, when she was still human."

"I do?" I ask, feeling doubtful. In all the times I've met Pam, I thought we were very different. For one thing, she has a potty-mouth. And secondly, she steals his credit card. I wouldn't ever take someone's card and feel personally entitled to use their money.

"Yes, you do." His eyes cloud over at some memory. "Pam did not fear me, either. She did not fear the death I presented. She's a fucking fire-cracker, but oddly enough... I like her. It doesn't mean she isn't a pain in the ass... exactly like you are."

"Oh, well. I think you're a pain in the butt, too," I tease. He compresses his lips together, and I know he is trying to hide a smile.

"I'm used to human's fearing me. The only two I've met that haven't, is Pamela and yourself. I am fucked up, because of Godric, but I didn't mind it. It enabled me to keep everyone at arm's length, so... I wouldn't have to let them in. Pamela wanted to be let in, and... look where that got her." He jerks his shoulders roughly underneath my hands. "She has me, as her Maker. She's constantly having to defend me, when Godric appears to me. She does not consider me insane. She was the only human I fucked, after Godric's passing."

I feel my stomach squirm in uneasiness. Why is he telling me this? It hardly seems like something I need to know...

"Only Pam. And then I avoided intimacy ever since that one time." The words are barely audible. "I thought that if I was angry, and human's feared getting too close... it wouldn't happen ever again. I wouldn't have to... try." These are very hard things for him to admit to me, and I can tell. I'm very pleased he is, though. "Pam was exactly everything I needed, as my Progeny. I never thought the day would come, until her. She doesn't care how fucked-up I am, with my visions, and talking to myself. She was the only human that understood, and now... she is the only vampire that possibly understands."

"I understand," I whisper weakly. "At least, I'm trying to."

"And this is what is so fucking weird," he says sharply. His hands tighten over my face a bit, in all his pent-up frustration. "Year after year, of feeling next to... nothing. Everything was so simple, and then you." His deep voice turns almost bitter, accusatory. He's back to blaming me again, and it's a great feeling. Not. "You come into my fucking bar, stepped into my office one evening, and then... everything fucking changes. I went from feeling empty to fucking... fluttering. I don't understand it. How can it change so quickly?"

"I don't know," I murmur, with the little breath I've got left, even though I know he isn't quite directing the question at me.

"You will give yourself to me?" he asks quietly, sounding unsure. Well, damn. Did I need to make myself more clear? Maybe, I do.

Without any other way to say it, I grab his face between my hands and pull his lips down to mine. He grunts a little in surprise, and I let my tongue slip into his mouth, touching his fangs with it, as I go. It definitely sends the message across, loud and clear, into his brain. Finally.

Hope this one wasn't a disappointment. Please let me know your thoughts! I love them!

P.S: Sorry to leave it there, next chapter will be longer (hopefully as long as last one)! Thank you all so much for your support, it blows me away. You're all incredible and sweet :-) x