A/N: Hi everyone! I have been SUPER busy, so sorry again for the delay. More end-of-the-year school stuff. I had my last-ever day of high school today, which was all sorts of crazy.

And on a somewhat related note, THANK YOU to everyone who reviewed or favorited or alerted or read or even thought about DTMW. You have no idea how excited I get when I see an alert in my inbox ... or even when I go back and look through everything and all of the reviews. And yay for over a thousand reviews! *does stupid happy dance* I didn't have the time to reply to all of them (it was that or use that time to write ... I figured you'd like that better?) but I DID read and smile at all of them.

A nice snuggly hug to my beta chiisai-kitty. She says she's a beta slut. I say she's a beta lover. And I love my beta. So there. :)

One last thing ... thank you CH.

.............

After a night full of restless turning, I somehow managed to fall asleep … and then I woke up, what felt like minutes later. And since I had the day off from work, that just meant I could have more time to ponder the meaning of last night.

And ponder I did.

When I thought about Eric now, I didn't feel as cold. There was a little warmth, even though it wasn't enough to warm a marshmallow with. But, that was enough right now. Tonight, with the video and the conversation, was a step up—one small step for Eric, one giant step for Sookie. No fangs were shown and, as Eric pointed out, no tears were shed. Then again, no hugs were exchanged and no kisses were shared. Yet.

But I had hope. My God, I don't think I'd be able to deal with this if I didn't. It's amazing how much of a difference one small smile, or one little look can make. Eric had shown glimpses of his old self last night, even though he didn't realize it. He would move his hands a certain way or talk in a specific tone of voice that would send me travelling back to the time when Amnesiac Eric was living with me, when my biggest worry was Eric's blood staining my favorite coffee mug. Hah.

Even though it was more than a week ago, it felt like centuries had passed since the time I had stopped that fateful New Years Eve—probably not for Eric, though. What did I wish for again, when we all went around and shared our hopes for the new year after the shift ended at Merlotte's? Peace and quiet. Well, that was shot to hell about a half hour after I said those words. What did I do? I went out and picked up a complete stranger, a completely amnesiac Viking vampire stranger on the run from evil, spell-casting strangers—and then I fell in love with him, only to have him reawake from his curse with no memory of me.

I wasn't doing so well on losing ten pounds either. But right now that was the least of my worries.

'I wish that was the only thing I wanted from you.' If only wondering about the meaning of Eric's big little though over and over again would help me understand it. Like, if after the hundredth time I went over phrase, then it would all click and I would figure out the meaning and why Eric was thinking that.

But nope. That wasn't the case here; I was still as confused as a zebra at a rodeo. What on Earth could he have meant by that? What could Eric want from me, besides information? Did he want me for my telepathy? My body? My conversation? Certainly not my crying, but what else could he have seen in me—or want to see in me? As much as the insight into Eric's mind was welcomed, I felt like it only made matters more complex, more puzzling. For me, at least. It's not like I could walk up to Eric and ask him what he meant by that. Or I could, but just not be alive long enough to be able to process his answer.

.................

Work was a welcome distraction. Luckily, Sam had been sticking to his word of giving me as many hours as he could. And damn, those were a lot of hours.

But I needed them. Eric hadn't called, visited, or even written me a letter since our conversation. Our conversation last week. Last week. Seven days ago. Seven fucking days ago.

There were so many times I picked up the phone and hung up after dialing a certain number printed on a certain business card. I found myself making excuses to do some shopping in Shreveport, but never actually going to the one place in Shreveport I genuinely wanted to go to. My thoughts always brought me to a Shreveport nightclub, one that I didn't visit no matter how much I wanted to.

I didn't know why. It was a little bit of everything, I guess: fear of rejection, fear of mistreatment, fear of broken hear. Oddly enough, it wasn't pride. Eric didn't seem to mind when he showed up at my house unannounced. Even though I didn't know where he lived, I did know where Fangtasia was. But I just didn't want to see Eric there.

Fangtasia was bad luck. That's the only reason. Think about it—the first time I went there, Eric physically attacked this bad-mouthing Were and was forced to leave the building before he hurt the tentative vampire-Were alliance. The second time I went to Fangtasia, the witches had swung by to put a horrible spell on the employees. And the third was when Eric emotionally attacked me, making me break down and cry; he had acted as anti-Eric as he could have been that night, and my heart still cringed when I thought about it.

But most of the times Eric was at my house, especially the last one, were different, better-different. No injuries—of any kind—and no arguments. More laughing than crying, and more smiling than frowning. Eric seemed more like Amnesiac Eric when he was at my house (with the exception of the first time that he wasn't Amnesiac Eric). I liked that, a lot.

Eric's elusiveness made me want to be closer to him. Had he thought about me since the last time we met? Did he come over one night, just to check up on me? Had he thought about calling me, and promptly hung up immediately after he dialed the numbers, like I had for him? Was he done with me, now that he had all the information he needed? Would he be welcoming the fangbanger's pushy come-ons, now that I wasn't with him at Fangtasia? Or would he still be dropping them on their asses?

Sam thought I needed to move on from this, and put it all behind me. Yeah, right. Not only did I not want to forget Eric—ahem, not like he could say the same, although that wasn't on purpose, but still—but because I didn't think that was possible, or logical. For me, looking back was the only thing helping me move forward.

But, I agreed with Sam when he said I should have more company around the house. He was my only real friend these days, what with Jason and Dawn surgically attached to each other all the time, and Arlene too busy fretting over her kids and the new man in her life, Rene Lenier—who I think was her second husband, but I'm not sure. And it's not like I could call Pam.

Sam and I visited the animal shelter, and I brought home a kitten from the animal shelter—and let me tell you, I am so glad I did. Tina—after Tina Turner, who's such a fighter—is probably the best thing in my life right now. I'll talk to her, and she'll meow back. She gives me something to work for, to be better for. I give her food and a bed to sleep on and a large yard to roam around. We both give each other comfort, love, and stability. It's a good relationship. We suited each other.

My days were now filled with cats and dogs—the latter being Sam's go-to animal when shifting. He had shown me one night, when I asked him all about being a shifter. In addition to the gossip and comforting, we also would have lengthy discussions about our no-longer-secret abilities—my telepathy and Sam's shifting. Our weirdness made us closer. We were spending a lot of time together, or as much as we could with our schedules—brunches, movies, going to the grocery store to pick up supplies, or just hanging out. It was what having a best friend was like, I thought.

So that's what I had—a best friend, and a cat. No vampire, though.

But my cat was good to me, as was Sam. He knew today was the week-long anniversary, for lack of a better, more morose-sounding term, so I was scheduled to work a grueling shift tonight—one to ten.

And I welcomed it—I'd rather have a head full of someone else's thoughts than my own. Headaches were better than heartaches.

When I walked through the door, Merlotte's was packed and Sam had a big smile on his face, one that increased in size and meaning when I walked through the door. I hugged him hello and waved to all the other waitresses working. Everyone cheerfully greeted me back, except for Dawn—she glared at me and stomped into the bathroom without a second glance. Huh.

I shot Arlene a look, and she quickly peeked back at the now-closing bathroom door before taking a step closer to me and not-so-quietly whispering, "Oh, don't mind her. Apparently she got into a nasty squabble with Jason last night."

Shit. "What about?"

"Oh, I don't know. But Lafayette said she tried to talk Jason into going to that vampire bar, over in Shreveport? Fangtasia, I think? Anyways, she's been there a bunch of times and he freaked out and they got in a huge fight. Like, huge huge. She went and he didn't and the poor girl's been banging cups and slamming doors all day."

"Do you think I should try and talk to her?" I whispered, nodding my head at the still-closed bathroom door.

"Yeah, if she doesn't bite your head off first," Arlene snorted. "Oh, looks like one of my tables needs a refill on their lemonade. Good luck."

Arlene hurried off, and I did too—only I was headed towards the bathroom with a nervous expression on my face, and she was sauntering over to her customers with a professional smile.

I hesitantly opened the door and called out, "Heyyyy Dawn."

I heard her sniffle in the bathroom, but no actual words.

"Look, I heard you got in a bit of a fight with Jason. Wanna talk about it?"

Still no reply.

I inched closer to the bathroom stall that showed her black Saucony sneakers. "Listen, hun, no one's better to rant to Jason about than his only sister. Believe me, I've gotten pissed off at him many, many times before. What happened?"

"I bet he's never called you a no-good fangbanging slut before, has he?" Dawn mumbled.

"Uh, no. But Jason has called me a poopyhead before. And not when he was in his single digits either. Like, when he was in his twenties."

She barked out a short, reluctant laugh. "He would."

I smiled. "So come on, what'd he do?"

Dawn didn't answer for a moment, and right when I was going to repeat myself she opened the stall door. Her long, usually commercial-perfect hair looked a little unwashed and unkempt, and her black eyeliner was smudged. I was surprised, because Dawn was usually the tough bitch, take-no-prisoners kind of girl, but I guess everyone's vulnerable when it comes to love. Who am I to judge, right?

She walked over to the sinks, where she started washing her hands. "He was just being a silly little Southern fuckhead. I asked him if he wanted to go to Fangtasia—you know Fangtasia, right? The vampire bar in Shreveport?"

Boy, did I. I nodded.

She continued, "So I've been there a couple times, and I really liked it. So I got this coupon in the mail for two-for-one drinks, and I asked Jason if he wanted to go with me. And then, then it kind of went all down-hill from there. Your brother's a big bigot, you know. Almost shit a brick when I told him I've had sex with a really, really hot vampire there, and that I let him drink from me. Then we got in a big argument and called each other names and then he just left. Haven't heard from him since. And I don't think I will."

"You didn't do anything wrong, you hear? Jason's just being an ass. In fact, he's being a donkey ass, because that's how much of an ass he is. He's an ass's ass."

A snort. A smirk. Then, "Preaching to the choir, sugar." Dawn rolled her eyes dramatically, and even though the effect was a little unsettling with her extra eye makeup, I laughed all the same. She did too, apparently glad she was back to having her Dawn sassiness. "And ya know what?" she asked.

"What?"

"I went to Fangtasia anyway, without Jason. Who needs him, right?"

"Totally. So, what'd you do there?" I asked. 'Please don't say anything about Eric please don't say anything about Eric please don't say anything about Eric.''

She tilted her head sideways, like you do when you're trying to remember something. "It's weird, 'cause I don't really remember what the night was like. I remember waiting in line to go in the club, and I remember that the bouncer lady carded me and asked for some ID, which made me feel real good, considering what just happened with Jason and all."

I nodded sympathetically. 'Please don't say anything about Eric please don't say anything about Eric please don't say anything about Eric.'

"And I remember going to the bar to use my coupon to get my drinks and then … and then I was driving myself home. But I didn't feel drunk. I was just driving myself home. It's the weirdest thing. How the hell can you not remember a whole night? But, I was pretty upset. I probably had waaay too much to drink"

Not if you know about glamoring. "Huh," I replied sympathetically, because that's all I trusted myself with saying at the moment.

In the saddest, most self-deprecating way, Dawn said, "I'm glad Jason wasn't there when I got back, because he would have really thought I was a no-good fangbanging slut with a drinking problem."

"Nonsense. Like I said, Jason's an ass. Gran would be horrified if she heard about his behavior. She'd have been okay with a vampire, if she'd have met one. If you want me to give Jason some sisterly guilt, just say the world, 'kay?" I offered.

Dawn raised an eyebrow and smirked. "Well, I'm not saying don't do it … but you don't have to. I'm sure this is awkward for you. And I know we don't have the best relationship either. I'm not sure what I'd be doing if I was in your shoes."

And blunt Dawn was back. "I'll talk to him. I'd be glad to. I know Jason likes his beer and his Nascar, but I didn't know he was that much of a Southern boy, that he'd be … vampire racist. Someone needs to talk some sense into him, no matter how long that might take. But if it means anything, I'll say sorry for him."

Walking towards the door, Dawn sadly replied, "Oh, he'll apologize to me, sooner or later. They always do."

And right when I was thinking about how awful that statement was, and how awful it was that Dawn was so made so cynical about it, she turned around to look at me. "Thank you, Sookie. I … I'll see you out there. But this doesn't mean I'll take one of your tables or nothing, you hear?"

I smiled and waved goodbye, but as soon as she was out of the room, I got hit with a sudden burst of anger. What on earth did Jason say to make Dawn so vulnerable? And why the fuck was he so bigoted, about vampires? It's not like he's met any. And I sure am glad he didn't meet Eric, 'cause who knows what might have happened if he did.

Eric. Even though I wasn't a vampire, this had Eric's scent all over it. What did he do to Dawn—besides glamoring her and screwing up things with Jason? He sent that stupid coupon to try and entice Dawn into coming to Fangtasia, and even though he probably got what they wanted—I'm assuming information about me?—it was all because he ruined her relationship with her boyfriend! Oh my god, was he able to think of anyone but himself? Did he not trust me—did he need a second opinion or something? Why would he need to see Dawn? Did he fuck her? Did he take her blood? Oh my God. Oh my God. Of course he did. Why wouldn't he? He's already had her, so what's stopping him from having her again?

After a few more moments, I pushed the anger away and went back to my tables and customers. And though I was hurt and upset and angry, I made damn sure none of my customers knew it. Not even Sam, because at the end of my shift, when I went back to say good night to him, he complimented me on how I was handling the one week anniversary. I just smiled and said good night before driving home.

I wanted nothing more to do than dig around for something sweet in the kitchen and put on my comfiest pajamas, but there was no way I was doing that tonight. No, tonight I was going to Fangtasia. And I was going to confront Eric about Dawn. And I was going to make him pay. Yes, I was going to make him pay.

I showered. I shaved. I put on more makeup than I usually do. I put on less clothing than I usually do. I put on my highest heels and my tightest dress. I blow-dried my hair.

And damn straight I sprayed some perfume on my neck.

...............

A/N: So it's kind of like a baby chapter, but it's needed for the next chapter. Hell hath no fury like a woman who thinks she's scorned, right?