Peggy and Eric sat together in a back booth at Fangtasia. Technically Eric was working, on display for the tourists and fangbangers who frequented the vampire bar, but he had decided against lolling on his throne in favor of a slightly more private setting. Only once or maybe twice an hour did anyone get up the nerve to approach him, unless he summoned them.

Eric's arm was curled possessively around her waist, and Peggy didn't mind a bit. She pressed as close to him as she dared, but she tried not to look too relaxed or safe. Part of Eric's appeal was the danger, and he wouldn't approve of her robbing him of that for his customers just so they could cuddle in public. She did, however, feel relaxed, but that might have been the cocktails that kept arriving. Safe… well, this was as safe as she possibly could get in Eric's company.

To the naked eye, he seemed to have survived his adventure with no ill effects. No tinge of green remained in his complexion, no hint of Voodoo poison in his body. He had said that he felt wonderful and there was no evidence to the contrary. He had certainly seemed wonderful when he had awakened Peggy at sunset, all of his hungers demanding and satisfying her own.

Peggy closed her eyes for a moment, remembering. She had been absolutely exhausted. He had taken so much of her blood during the battle, but she knew that if he hadn't, he wouldn't have survived. If he had drained her completely, he might have had the strength to fight. It amazed her in some ways that he hadn't.

She wouldn't have stopped him.

Afterwards, they had picked all of the bits of broken glass off of each other, and he had licked at every small cut she had received, gently healing each one. The wound on his hand healed as he took these final tastes of her blood, and then they had washed away the night in their giant glassed-in shower.

Sunset that night, and he had teased her awake. She felt as exhausted as if she had not slept at all. She didn't even have the strength to push him away.

"You need to drink some of my blood, Margaret," he said.

"But—"

"You need not fear. The poison is gone."

"Are you certain, Eric?"

"Oh, yes, my darling."

She had watched him bite into his own wrist, offering it to her instead of forcing it on her as he had the first time. She had taken it eagerly now. She wanted the bond between them as much as she wanted the soothing and healing it brought her. She was only disappointed to find out that most of the reason for this gesture was that he wanted her well enough to accompany him to Fangtasia that evening.

And here they were.

Pam was working the door, looking bored. She had barely acknowledged them other than a cursory glance and a nod to Eric. A vampire who Peggy had not met was tending bar. He looked even more bored than Pam, if that were possible, which was not an easy thing to do while serving drinks

She wanted to put her head on Eric's shoulder, but didn't know if he would permit this. Peggy opened her eyes and had another sip of her drink. Seconds later, a fresh one was whipped over to take its place.

"Good service," she told Eric with amusement.

Eric grinned. "Nothing but the best for you, Margaret."

"It amazes me how quickly you recuperate," Peggy said, tilting her head.

"I am a vampire," Eric said, shrugging slightly.

"You could have died the final death!"

"Ah, but I didn't."

"Did you at least learn something?" Peggy asked in exasperation.

"Hmm… like never trust shifters?"

"You don't trust Sam?" she challenged.

"Not so much," said Eric. "By the way, it might be best if you ended your employment at Merlotte's."

Part of Peggy felt relieved, because she was a terrible waitress and never enjoyed one thing about it except getting to know Sam and Sookie. Another part of her rebelled against Eric's command. "What if I don't wish to stop working at Merlotte's?"

Eric arched an eyebrow. "Do you not?"

"I…"

He laughed. "Why protest?"

"I owe it to Sam to at least give some notice," Peggy said finally.

"Do you think he might get Anne Marie to ask her remaining brothers to return the original necklace?" Eric mused.

"You really didn't learn anything!"

"I learned that the Sun God medallion is real, and within my reach," Eric said, his big, white hand turning into a fist on the table.

"Actually, it at de bottom o'de swamp," said Pearletta as she and Chow appeared in front of their table. Peggy's eyes widened as she observed the girl she had met only yesterday. Pearletta looked a good deal like Anne Marie, though she was a few inches taller and had black hair instead of red. It was curly and tangled, and she had huge green eyes, extremely luminescent now that she was a vampire.

Chow scowled at her. "I told you, Eric is the boss. You let him speak first, woman!"

Pearletta lifted her chin and scowled at Chow. They were about the same height so she looked him right in the eye. "An' I tole you, he ain't my boss!"

"Technically Chow is correct, Miss Boudreaux," Eric replied sharply. "I will forgive your lapse in manners to your newly arrived state. However, if you want to continue your existence, you will listen to him on the subject of protocol."

"I never wanted to be no vampire!" Pearletta scowled.

"Your other choice is to be dead. Really, really dead. That can still be arranged," said Eric.

Pearletta glared. "You suck, Eric Northman."

"Yes," said Eric, "And now, so do you. Chow, take her away before I cease being amused and become angry."

"You do not want to make him angry," Chow hissed. He grabbed Pearletta by her elbow.

"Wait!" said Peggy. "The amulet is at the bottom of the swamp?" Eric might choose pride over information, but she didn't want to have to ask Sam to ask Anne Marie to ask one of her relatives something that Pearletta might be able to tell them right now. Eric shifted slightly beside her and Peggy knew she had annoyed him, but he must have wanted to know as well since he allowed the transgression.

Pearletta tore her gaze from Eric to Peggy and it softened as she did. They had liked each other yesterday, despite the circumstances of their meeting, and Pearletta seemed to remember that now. She also seemed to be aware that Peggy might be her only friend in the new world into which she has been thrust.

"Johnny Bob, he get rid o'it good. Ain' be no finding it. M'sorry."

"I could have the swamp dragged," Eric said. "Or I could have Johnny Bob interrogated as to the exact spot he dumped it."

"He die before he tell you dat," Pearletta said stubbornly.

"I fail to see that as a loss," said Eric.

"Eric," Peggy sighed, putting her hand over his as he turned to look at her. "Can't you let it go?" She didn't expect him to agree. She felt entirely defeated. He tilted his head, quiet for a moment as if considering.

"I suppose I have no choice," Eric said, returning his gaze to Pearletta. "Miss Boudreaux, keeping in mind that your new state was demanded by your grandmother and not either your choice or my own—"

"Or mine," Chow grumbled. Eric shot him a look and he shut up.

"—let us try to make the best of things in order that our dearly bought truce may continue to be preserved."

Pearletta looked defiant for a moment, but finally she nodded. "Dat what Gran-mawmaw want," she said, then added, "Mr. Northman, sir." Eric seemed pleased by her attempt at manners.

"I know all of this must be difficult for you. Allow Chow to be your guide in your new life," Eric said, "But if you need anything at all or have any questions, feel free to come to me."

Peggy was surprised by this seeming turn around, but she tried not to show it. Pearletta looked wary, but she seemed to realize that her best option was to be gracious. She thanked Eric, and Chow led her over to the bar. The bartender gave each of them a bottle of True Blood, and Peggy could see that Pearletta, after a lifetime of delicious Cajun cooking, was not impressed with her new meal plan.

"You were very nice to her, Eric," Peggy said.

"She may be useful," he replied thoughtfully. "And the truce is a good idea. I hate when old grudges get in the way of business."

Peggy would have laughed if the comment hadn't been so soulless and cynical. Silently she sipped her drink.

"You do not approve," Eric said. It wasn't a question.

"You do not need my approval."

"No," he agreed, "And yet for some reason, some part of me is eager to have it."

"I can guess what part that is."

Eric chuckled. "That I will prove to you. It is nearly time for the club to close. Let's go home, Margaret."

When, a few hours later, they were alone in the big plantation house in Bon Temps, Eric seemed a different creature all together. He swept Peggy off her feet and carried her up to the bedroom, and loved her with a bold mixture of greed and tenderness. He licked her ear, nibbled slightly, growled.

"You are my sanctuary," he murmured.

"Oh, Eric," she whispered back, happy, her hands roaming over his broad chest.

"I did learn something." He peppered her face with small kisses.

"And what is that?" Peggy asked.

"I do not truly need that amulet."

"Of course not. You don't need anything."

"I need you," Eric said, and that left Peggy with a lot to think about.