A/N: You know, I had several plot points all sketched out for that last chapter, and Eric had to go and mess them up for me. Stubborn bastard just wouldn't shut up. Apparently, he's not quite done yet, either.

Eric POV

Pam made excellent time to the Bon Temps police department. My child might drive faster than me, if such a thing is even possible. She certainly gets pulled over less; I think that's because she drives a minivan, and no one seems to want to pull over what might be a soccer mom. I love my Corvette, but I've lost track of the number of cops I've glamoured in the past month alone.

After glamouring the cops at the station, Pam was able to get the necessary details: the women had died by strangulation, and they had not been drained of any blood. The investigation was still pending, and there were currently no suspects.

That meant there was a killer in Sookie's hometown. When she and I discussed the potential motives, it looked like that killer might have reason to go after her at some point. It had been her own brother who inadvertently put her in the line of fire. She might have called dibs on smacking him around, and I hoped she had a chance to do so before I met him, otherwise I might feel inclined to pick up the slack.

I called Pam back to give her further instructions. She was halfway back to Shreveport and grumbled when she heard she had to back to Bon Temps. I gave her directions to the Stackhouse residence, telling her to bring Adele back to my house and wait with her until Sookie and I arrived. I considered letting Pam know that Adele was more than a little feisty, but thought it might be more amusing if I didn't warn her ahead of time.

Sookie was sitting in a chair, looking for all the world like she was lost at sea. I went over to her, picked her up, and sat down on the couch with her in my lap. She snuggled against my chest as I kissed the top of her head. It was an odd time to notice how well we seemed to fit against each other.

"Pam is on her way to pick up Adele; she should be there any moment now. We will be meeting them at my house later tonight. You will both be safe. I will not let anything happen to you."

She laughed. "You're not scared to sleep under the same roof with Gran?"

I was proud of her for being able to find humor in the midst of a decidedly unfunny situation, and smiled. "It would not be in her best interests to cause me harm." I paused for a few seconds. "And we'll be keeping the bedroom doors locked."

Sookie chuckled softly, and then was quiet for a few minutes. "Why are you doing this?"

"Because I want to keep you safe."

She turned to look at me. "But why? Please don't get me wrong: I really do appreciate everything you're doing. I just don't understand it."

There was no easy answer I could think of to give her; she was already overwhelmed. I simply tucked her head back under my chin and tried to comfort her.

Pam POV

I couldn't fathom my master's fascination with Sookie Stackhouse. Sure, she smelled really fucking good, and wasn't hard on the eyes… but this was all going way too far, way too fast. Biting her made perfect sense, and I would have fucked her in a heartbeat. Bringing her – and her elderly grandmother – into his resting place was another thing entirely. Eric should know better than to be so careless, especially if this woman really was part fae.

Just as not all vampires are assholes, not all fairies are fuckrags. Each has the potential to be vicious and bloodthirsty. Vampires don't sparkle, and fairies don't turn pumpkins into coaches for scullery maids. A part-human with vindictive fae relatives was bad news.

One thing I will say for Sookie: there hadn't been a single night of tedium since she first walked into Fangtasia. I almost wanted to thank her for that, but she was a damn fool if she thought I was going to forget about that chicken stunt anytime soon. I wouldn't actually do anything, since Eric wouldn't let me. Asshole. But I could let her wonder. Sometimes the anticipation of a falling anvil is worse than the impact ever could be.

And fuck Long Shadow sideways for the idea with the Post-Its. I knew I'd be the one who would have to clean that shit up. Eric's reaction wasn't nearly amusing enough to make it worthwhile. Bastard.

The Good Times doughnut patrol took one look at me in my ridiculous Fangtasia "finery" and I knew I'd have to glamour them. Fine by me. My way was more efficient. The less time I spent there, the better. I glamoured them into telling me what I needed to know, and then left a few suggestions behind. Nothing big: the murderer wasn't a vampire; plaid curtains are beyond tacky; and Russian surf rock makes for wonderful hold music. Never underestimate the power of the Red Elvises.

Mission accomplished, I drove like a bat out of hell back to Shreveport. When Eric called to tell me to go retrieve Sookie's grandmother, I started thinking about all of the shoes I was going to get out of him for this. I may be a spoiled bitch, but he has only himself to blame.

As I drove up to Sookie's decrepit old house, I cackled. Her grandmother was going to love me. I could see her now: a delicate, wrinkly old biddy who smelled of dry cat food and cheap face powder. Her reaction to my outfit would be priceless. She would lecture me about "kids these days", and I'd probably have to glamour her to get her to shut up about her weekly games of Bingo.

Eric told me that Adele would be expecting me, but there was no way he could have prepared her for me.

I walked up to the door and rang the bell. I heard footsteps on the other side of the door, and a woman called out, "Who's there?"

"I am Pam. Eric sent me."

She unlocked the door, but didn't open it. "The door's unlocked. Go ahead and open it."

She hadn't invited me in. Maybe she wasn't completely senile. I ducked to the side, so that I wasn't in front of the door, and opened it.

I looked down and saw the shadow of Adele holding what I guessed was a shotgun. Oh, the hell you say? I knew it wouldn't kill me, but I'd be damned if I let some old lady shoot me.

"Thank you, Pam. Could you come help me with my bag? It's a bit heavy for my old bones."

Sneaky bitch. She still hadn't invited me in. She just wanted me where she could see me.

"Can't be much heavier than that shotgun you've got." I said, still out of her line of sight. "Listen, Sookie would be really pissed if I had to do this the hard way, and Eric would kick my ass if I upset Sookie. So how are we gonna do this?"

"Tell me something interesting about Sookie."

I snorted. "To hear Eric tell it, everything about Sookie is probably interesting. For starters: Sookie Stackhouse, age 26, birth sign is Cancer. She showed up at Fangtasia three nights ago wearing a hideous pair of jeans and a ratty old shirt, likes gin and tonic, and bears the distinction of being the only telepath I've ever met. You want her drivers license number and blood type?"

Adele cackled and stepped out into the doorway. "Such a pleasure meeting you, Pam. I'd invite you in and offer you a True Blood, but don't you think we've wasted enough time?"

I smirked. She might actually be tolerable. "Let me get your bag for you."

In a few minutes, Adele and I were spraying gravel out of her driveway, headed back to Shreveport. She hadn't wanted to let it go, but I made her put the shotgun on the floor of the back seat. Last thing I needed was trigger-finger granny accidentally blowing a hole in my windshield.

"Do you really know how to shoot, or is that thing for show?" I asked.

She laughed. "Oh, I'm the one who taught my kids how to shoot. These days, Sookie's a better shot than me, but I could still hit 'em where it counts if I needed to."

"Could you teach me?"

Adele reached over and patted my leg. "Name your time and place, dear. Pretty thing like you needs all the advantages she can get."

Hell's bells. I think I liked this strange old lady.

Sookie POV

When Eric and I got back to his place, we found Gran and Pam in the living room, chatting up a storm. They seemed to hit it off, much to Eric's dismay. I could already imagine Pam teasing him about it.

Pam went off to pick up some "human necessities" while I got Gran settled in one of Eric's guest bedrooms. I was amused that she'd brought her shotgun, which she insisted on keeping by the side of her bed. She swore that she wouldn't shoot Eric, it just made her feel better having it nearby. Since we normally kept that particular gun in the hall closet, I wondered if she had another one stashed in her bedroom at home. We sat on the bed and talked about the events of the evening. Gran seemed to be handling it better than me; I felt pretty shaken up.

By the time I went back downstairs, Pam had come back. She and Eric were talking in Swedish while putting groceries away in the kitchen. It looked oddly domestic. Whatever they were talking about, it either didn't involve me or they didn't want me to know about it.

I interrupted them just long enough to let them know I was going to retire for the evening, and promptly went to Eric's room. He followed me so that he could show me how to work the security locks, and then told me he'd join me when he finished talking with Pam. I got ready for bed and was out almost as soon as my head hit the pillow.

There were some growing pains while Gran and I got settled in at the Northman residence. Eric was apparently used to walking around his house naked. Gran did not approve. Gran, for reasons I couldn't begin to understand, scared the bejeezus out of Eric. Pam found that endlessly entertaining; she had her own house, but was spending more time at Eric's so that she could hang out with Gran. Eric did not approve, but was outnumbered on that point.

Eric kept putting off my requests to go back home to get more clothes. I knew I could have simple gone to the house when I was in Bon Temps for work, but I didn't want to break our promise: straight there, straight back, no stops along the way.

Every other day or so, he would sneak new articles of clothing (mostly lingerie) into my drawers. When I found them, he would feign ignorance while I fussed at him for spending money on me. I would wear them just long enough to get my scent on them, then leave them in odd places for him to find (and where I knew for certain that Gran wouldn't): on the chair in his office, in his laptop case, in the glove box in his car. I tried to set it up so that I wouldn't be with him when he found them; the resulting text messages were often quite entertaining.

I had decided that I wasn't mad at Eric for failing to tell me about the cameras in the house before my little naked saunter through the place, and would occasionally wiggle my butt in their direction. I wondered when he found the time to watch them; when I asked him about that, he told me they were motion-sensitive, and only recorded when they detected movement.

All things said and done, the three of us settled into a fairly easy routine.

Gran would wake up early and putter. She didn't get bored easily; she had brought several books with her, and I would bring more home from the library at her request. When she didn't feel like reading, she would knit, crochet, watch television, or talk on the phone with her friends. Eric had picked up a cell phone for Gran for that very purpose; she'd fussed at him for spending money on her, but I noticed she eased up on him after that.

I would wake up earlier than usual, have breakfast with Gran, and make the long commute from Shreveport to the Bon Temps library. I worked it out so that I was only there part-time; my boss had been itching to hire his niece in my position, and was using this opportunity to train her. Eric hadn't mentioned much about my daytime security, but I could sense that they were there. It had been a compromise, and while I didn't think anyone would attack me at the library, I figured it was better safe than strangled.

I would come home in the early afternoon, have a late lunch and chat with Gran, then take a nap until Eric woke up. He never let me out of bed right away, but I wasn't ever upset about that. When we did finally get up, he would try to convince me to go with him to Fangtasia. Sometimes I would, but sometimes I stayed home and hung out with Gran. When she went to bed, I would send Eric naughty text messages to try to lure him home early. It worked more often than not.

While I didn't like the circumstances that had brought us here, I found that I liked staying with Eric. Sometimes I had to remind myself that it was only temporary.

Disclaimer: All of the characters contained in this story are property of Charlaine Harris. I don't own them, I just like to play with them a bit.