A/N: sorry for the few grammatical mistakes in the last chapter - I always read my stuff over several times before posting, but I can still miss some things. All lingonberry/IKEA references are for my bestie, sunshinelvr. She's obsessed with IKEA and educated me on the concept of the "flat pack." I refuse try lingonberries, though. Even when she pouts and says it's the greatest thing EVAH. As always, everything belongs to The Maker, Charlaine Harris.

…

Meanwhile, we catch up with Sookie...

Immediately upon returning to L.A., Sookie upped her "moving ahead with her life" timetable. Amelia had previewed a number of apartments for her and narrowed it down to three. Sookie, Pam and Amelia spent a Saturday morning viewing all three. Unlike the first two, which all three women agreed were "okay," as soon as she saw stepped into the third, Sookie looked around for a moment, then at exactly the same time, she, Pam and Amelia all said, "This one!" They then immediately cracked up laughing.

After spending a few minutes with the property manager, Sookie paid her deposits, signed her lease and had her keys. She ran back to the apartment and looked around her new home. Vaulted ceiling with a skylight in the living room, which was all open plan with the kitchen and dining room. A small "powder room" on the ground floor, then upstairs was a large, open loft and full bath. There were windows everywhere, leaving the apartment bathed in a bright glow.

"So? Think you'll be happy here?" Pam asked.

Sookie answered, "You know? I really think so. It feels like a good place to start over - a very bright, clean slate."

"There's just one small matter we need to address," Amelia said. The other two women looked at each other, grinned and said, "SHOPPING!"

…

"Thank God for IKEA," Sam muttered as he helped Sookie get her bed frame up the stairs and into the loft. "Not only does your mattress come so flat packed that you can carry it upstairs by yourself, but none of the furniture is made of real wood! Much easier to unload from my truck," he grinned.

"I suppose the Swedes are good for something," Sookie answered. "Like IKEA and ABBA," she giggled. Sam gave an answering snort of laughter as he brought in her new bookcase.

A few hours later, Sam was back to cursing Sverige for the IKEA instructions being in Swedish. "Seriously? They have tons of stores in the states and I'm stuck looking at the pictures to figure this thing out. Seriously. It's an entertainment center - this should not be difficult."

Sookie looked up from the midst of bookcase pieces. "Let me see if I can help. I think I've cracked their code." She crawled over to the pile of pieces surrounding Sam. He passed over the instructions and she began to try to make sense of them.

"Okay, so the flat piece gets attached to that long thingy... it looks like it's attached by something that looks sort of snake-like..."

"Oh, for fuck's sake, Sookie! I hate to say it, but maybe we should call...?" Sam trailed off.

"Call who? Oh wait, you mean ERIC? No way! Just because he speaks Swedish is no reason to call him."

"Soo-oook," Sam groaned and collapsed on the floor. "I think my brain will turn into a lingonberry if we keep this up."

"Easy there, Berry Boy. We have another ace in the hole we can use." Sookie grabbed her phone and called Pam. As soon as he heard Pam's voice on speakerphone, Sam actually hollered with glee. "I forgot about Pam! Pure GENIUS!"

Pam chuckled over the phone. "Well I certainly am glad you think I can help you out, Sam. But surely you recall I prefer the fairer sex? Not that the whole "urban cowboy" look doesn't work for you."

Sookie laughed. "No, we're just in the middle of trying to put together all my lovely IKEA furniture, and we've discovered the instructions are in 'Svenska.' We're surrounded in the living room by a random boards that don't seem to go anywhere, and apparently we're too dumb to understand diagrams. Help us, Pam! We're in a Swedish hell, Sam's turning into a lingonberry as we speak - I can literally see him taking on a roundish appearance - with no hope of escape. We need you to get us out of our ash blond hell!"

Pam laughed. "Well, as long as I don't have to actually touch anything but paper, fine. But if I get a paper cut I'll sue. And there better not be any nail-breakage!"

"I wouldn't expect any less, O Manicured One," Sookie chuckled. Sam moaned weakly from his ball shape on the floor.

"I'm on my way."

…

A few hours later, Pam had translated all the instructions while Sookie and Sam assembled. Once her work there was done, Pam floated out the door giving air-kisses and promises to send her translation bill. Which would most likely come in the form of a massage gift certificate or several vodka-tinis.

Finally, Sookie and Sam only had one thing left to do. The flat packed mattress lay in the center of the bed frame, and the two looked at each other across the bed. "Well, do you want to do the honors or should I?" Sookie asked.

"You should. This is the symbolic new beginning for you. Have at it," he handed her a small pocket knife and she carefully made an incision near a plastic seam, well away from the actual fabric. Once the packaging was loosened, the mattress sprang open and unfolded itself with what Sookie thought was a nice dramatic flourish. Sam held up the mattress while Sookie retrieved the plastic packaging out from underneath it. They got it straightened and centered on the bed frame, and Sookie looked at Sam across the bed.

"You know what I'm thinking?" she asked, twinkling.

"Totally," he replied. "One... Two... Three... JUMP!"

Both friends did giant belly flops onto the bed and lie there riding out the bounce. Suddenly, Sookie looked at Sam and it was as if she were seeing him for the first time. He'd always had sort of unruly hair, but now it was going grey on the sides and looked great on him. There were small, fine lines around his eyes from smiling and laughing, which also worked for him. His button down shirt had ridden up as they bounced, showing a strip of smooth, hard muscle.

Sookie watched him relax out on her new bed, one arm tucked behind his head. She'd never really noticed how strong his arms looked - in a wiry way, not a "gym every day" look. Like he'd gotten his physique the hard way - working for it every day doing honest, manual labor carting crated of beer around his bar..

Sookie felt sort of out of her body, like she was watching events unfold from somewhere else, up above. She watched herself lean over and kiss Sam gently on the mouth. He seemed shocked at first, then he tangled his fingers in the long hair at the base of her skull and pulled her into a tight lock. They kissed hurriedly, frantically, for a moment when Sam suddenly let go of her hair and pushed her gently away from him.

With eyes glazed over from the lust of the kiss, Sookie asked, "What's wrong? Don't you... don't you want to kiss me?" She shyly tucked her head down into her chest as she blushed.

"Oh, Sookie... Sookie, look at me." Sam's hand gently turned her by the chin until she was facing him. "Sook, you know I'd love to kiss you; hell, I'd love to do everything with you. But you're on the rebound, cher. And I... I'm not going to be your rebound guy. I don't think I could take it, waiting for you to find someone else you're more interested in. I couldn't have you, even a small piece of you, and lose it."

Sam stood and made his way downstairs. He turned when he reached the front door and looked back at Sookie standing up in the loft. "Let me know when you want me to help you hang your stuff on the wall, cher," he said softly. "Don't forget to lock up. 'Night."

"'Night, Sam," Sookie whispered as he closed the door.