A/N: No, I'm not telling you what happened at Eric's place after the party. You'll get a few hints here and there, but no chapter full of gratuitous sex. Sorry if that disappoints you! ;-)

Someone asked if the supes wouldn't have been able to tell what happened on the dance floor from the scent - I suspect not, given that Sookie probably wasn't the only one in the room turned on, and they wouldn't be able to tell how far along that path she was - and, let's face it, if you were dancing with Eric, you'd get a little flustered too, wouldn't you?! ;-)

I would be eternally grateful to Alison for her help the day after the party. Not having been intending to stay at Eric's overnight, and having been given a lift to Shreveport by him, I was pretty much stranded until he woke up - or so I thought, until she texted me.

Did you get home okay last night, or still in Shreveport? Text if still here, will pick you up for breakfast and drive you home if you want.

You star. Still in Shreveport. Eric has no coffee or food in the house, and I have no change of clothes.

LOL. Typical. Pick you up in 20 minutes. Leave a note for E or he will have a hissy fit when he wakes up.

I smothered a laugh, realising she had a point – Mr Control Freak certainly liked getting his own way in everything, but more to the point, he'd no doubt worry if I disappeared without any explanation. I scribbled a note to him and left it by his bedside, and crept out of the bedroom, shutting the door behind me. Thankfully, my dress had made it through the evening intact, so I didn't have quite so much of a walk of shame as I might have done. I was thankful to see Alison pull up outside Eric's house, and legged it to her car. "Thank you so much for this," I said gratefully.

She chuckled. "Least I could do. Last night was a raging success, and people are already signing up for places at next year's event. Did you two practise that dance?"

"Umm, no. It was a last-minute thing."

"It sure was realistic," she laughed. "You must be a great actress to pull that off." She glanced at my red face. "Ah – oh. Sorry."

The only good thing about this was that, if Alison hadn't realised, probably nobody else had, either – well, other than Eric, and of course Pam, after my little outburst, but I doubted Eric would be sharing that around the place, and he'd probably make sure Pam kept her mouth shut, too, given the looks he'd given her. I heaved an almighty sigh of relief. "I've never… um, danced quite like that before," I stammered awkwardly. "I didn't think I could do anything like that."

She looked at me curiously. "Was he glamouring you?"

I shook my head. "No, just good, old-fashioned 'look at me so you don't get distracted and lose your nerve' stuff."

"Hmkay." She didn't look convinced.

"Really, he can't glamour me; he tried the first time we met, and I just felt a buzzing in my head, like a fly you want to swat."

She gave a snort of laughter. "He would hate that description."

I grinned. "I can imagine."

"Did he actually bite you?"

"No," I said. "His fangs were out, but he didn't break my skin - just kissed my neck." And that had been all it took to push me over the edge, I remembered with a shiver. In retrospect, I actually enjoyed the memory more than I thought I would, feeling much less embarrassed now that I knew that people thought we were just acting. It was a considerable relief.

It was a relief she let the subject drop, too. "Guess you'd rather get changed before heading for breakfast?" she asked.

"If you don't mind."

She handed me a styrofoam cup. "Not a problem, but drink your coffee before it gets cold."

"You're an angel," I said with feeling, taking a sip. "I need this." I'd had very little sleep - but a very good night. I understood now what they meant about make-up sex - Eric certainly had thrown himself into it with zeal.

"I thought you might," she said dryly.

We didn't talk much on the way back to Bon Temps. I was surprised, when we got to my place, to see Sam on my doorstep. "Sook, you're okay!"

I looked at him mystified. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"W-well, last night, you weren't… and you didn't answer your phone… and…" he stuttered to a halt.

"Sam, I went to a party, and stayed over in Shreveport, so I wasn't in," I said reasonably. "Why so much of a panic?"

"The thing is, they… I mean…" he closed his eyes. "Sook, the police took Jason in for questioning. About the murder of Maudette Pickens, and a couple of girls in Monroe."

"What?"

"They found…" he glanced at Alison, worried; I motioned for him to continue. She was my therapist, after all, not just a neighbour of Eric's; if it was really bad, it would come out in one of our sessions; if it wasn't that bad, I didn't mind her knowing. "Tapes. That he'd made. When he was with them," he said. "When you weren't here, and weren't answering your phone, I… wondered if he'd realised about your - ah, working arrangements, and, um, anyway, I was worried," he said sheepishly.

I sighed. "Sam, I'm fine. Oh – this is Alison Jones. Alison, my boss, Sam Merlotte."

She chuckled. "We've met a time or two." I looked between them blankly. "She doesn't know?" she asked Sam.

"Know what?" I asked, mystified. Was Sam a relative, or something? I knew from chatting to Mr and Mrs Herveaux the previous night that only the first child of two weres would become a were - maybe Sam was a younger brother, and I hadn't realised?

He looked annoyed, and sighed. "I'm a shifter, Sook."

He was? That was what Eric had meant when he said, 'he hasn't told you'? He was talking about Sam? Suddenly, that made a lot more sense. "Oh. Oh, okay."

"It doesn't bother you?" he asked anxiously.

I shrugged. "I work for a vampire part time, no big deal to work for a shifter the rest of the time. What do you normally shift into?"

"A collie," he replied, looking relieved. "Big, but friendly."

I nodded, taking this in. To be honest, having spent an evening hanging out with a couple of vampires and a bunch of Weres, it didn't faze me at all. "So long as you don't chase Tina," I said. "Look, come on in, both of you, I'll make breakfast."

I ran in to get changed, fed Tina, and set about making breakfast. I noticed Sam sniffing surreptitiously. "You're with Eric now?"

"You can tell that?" I asked, momentarily distracted from being annoyed with the sniffing thing. He nodded, looking a little embarrassed. "Been with him a while," I said casually. He didn't look happy; Alison just looked amused.

"So… you went to a party. With Eric?" I nodded. "And stayed with him last night?"

"Mm-hmm." I flipped the eggs.

"And Alison drove you home?"

"Yup."

He sat there quietly for a moment, taking this in. "This party…"

Alison rolled her eyes. "Sam, she's a supe."

He stared at me. "What?"

"Part fairy," I mumbled. "Jason, too."

He gawped. "Seriously?"

"Yes, seriously. But that goes no further," I said warningly. "I don't want people asking about the hows and whys of that. You know what the folks in Bon Temps are like. At least in Shreveport, there aren't that many people who know me." Which was a very good thing on various counts, I thought.

"Sure. Does Eric know?"

"Yes, of course he knows," I said, exasperated. "He was there when I found out. Now, if you're done quizzing me about my private life," I said with a meaningful glare, "can you please tell me about what it is my idiot brother's been doing? Videos of… I assume him and these girls having sex?" He nodded. "How did you find that out?"

"Overheard Andy Bellefleur mention it in the bar," he admitted.

"Jason, you idiot," I muttered. "You don't believe he did it, though? Right?" I asked anxiously.

Sam shook his head. "No, not Jason. He makes some questionable decisions, but I can't see him as a killer."

I relaxed fractionally, glad that at least someone thought that. I suppressed a shudder, though; Jason had known Cindy Lenier, too, and given his tomcat ways, I wouldn't really surprised at him knowing the two girls in Monroe – he sometimes headed over that way if things were slow in Bon Temps (i.e., nobody to have sex with).

Oh, boy. I didn't believe Jason to be a killer, but… well, was that just because he was my brother? I really didn't know. I felt like crying, or being sick – maybe both.

Please don't let Jason be involved, I pleaded silently as I plated up breakfast. Please.