A/N: I know, I suck. Let me make it up to you.


He could tell she was watching him.

"You know if you want another round all you have to do is ask," he purred without opening his eyes. He heard her giggle – no, not giggle, giggling was for girls, hers was a throaty kind of laugh that had a direct access to his dick. He then felt his manhood stir - case in point.

His eyes fluttered open and found her lying on her side, arm folded, propping her head. She lay wrapped in white hotel sheets and nothing else. Her hair a tangled mess clinging on her shoulders. Her lips were still swollen, glistening and just begging to be kissed.

"You're a perv," she stated with forced antipathy.

He mirrored her stance, kicking the blanket off him to show her he truly meant business. Her eyes darted down to his growing erection. Who's the pervert now? He tipped her elbow, making her head fall back onto the pillow, before he leaned closer and hovered over her.

"Why're you still up?" he hummed as he started threading his fingers through the ends of her curls. "Don't tell me I'm losing my touch and I haven't successfully worn you out."

Even as he said it, he knew it was impossible. Just fucking impossible. From the second he stepped back into their hotel room and found her pacing, eagerly awaiting his return from the Northman tower, he was all over her. He went straight to her parted lips. If she had said anything before he kissed her he hadn't heard any of it. Hell, the whole place could have been on fire and he would never have cared. Clothes were strewn all over the place and he was almost certain they had broken a lamp or two. He was reduced to a primate. Her muffled moans stoking the fire inside him. His father once told him that love was like sunshine making everything gleam, but now he knew it wasn't true. Love was the sun itself, all consuming. And if his love for her wasn't strong enough to sustain the heat he would have been torched to ashes.

He wanted to take his time with her, or at least dial down the porn star vibe a notch but he couldn't. And judging by the way her nails were digging into his back and the tight clutch of her legs around his hips, she probably couldn't help it too. He buried himself inside her to the hilt, making her arch her back to adjust to his size. Every thrust of his hips was welcomed with a soft whimper. Mine, he wanted to scream. She was his. Anyone who would dare say otherwise would know just how ruthlessly selfish he could be. He didn't say it out loud, though. It would be a moot point. There was no need to state the obvious.

His hand glided down to her shoulder, like how the blind traces Braille. He wanted to memorize every inch of her body, every niche, every curve, every scar, every bruise. His hand paused on the purplish map on the hollow of her neck.

"This is new," he stated sharply. "Did I do this?" He cursed himself immediately. Sometimes in the heat of the moment he could easily forget just how delicate she was.

She must have read his thoughts from the expression on his face as she quickly shook her head while stroking his cheek.

"Don't let that bother you. I'm a big girl. I can handle a few bruises. I bruise like a peach when I'm near my period, you know that."

He wasn't convinced, though. His eyes started scanning her for more contusions.

"Hey, hey," she husked grabbing both his cheeks, forcing him to focus on her. "If you keep that up, I swear I will never have sex with you again."

Denying him sex, man, that was low.

But her threat worked. He stopped and trained his eyes back to hers.

Her eyes gleamed with triumph. Manipulative minx. She ran her fingers through his hair. "Tell me about your mom," she whispered, changing the topic.

His brow furrowed in confusion. "Seriously? You want me to talk about my dead mother while I'm naked on top of you?"

She chuckled, her warm breath tickling his cheeks. "Come on…" she goaded. "I'm curious."

"There's nothing to tell," he shrugged, before he planted a moist kiss on her bruise, willing it to fade. "She died when I was young."

"No. Nonono," she tsked, shaking her head. "You've been giving me that same reader's digest version for years. I want more."

Eric stopped his ministrations and lifted his head to meet her gaze. What the hell did she want to know? Wasn't it enough that he had a fake homicidal bitch of a grandmother, did she really have to sift through his mommy issues, too?

"What do you want to know?"

Her expression turned sullen. "Do you miss her?"

He bit back the lump in his throat. "I have very few memories of my mom. It's difficult to miss someone I can barely remember."

It was a lie, and he hoped the bitterness he was feeling didn't creep into his tone.

She fell silent. For a second he thought she'd keep dogging him for answers. Then, at last, she smiled, wistful.

"What's with the sudden interest?" he poked. Somehow he felt the need to turn the table on her.

She shrugged. "I told you, I was curious."

A smile toyed in the corner of his lips. "Aren't you going to ask me if I'll miss you when you're gone?"

She flinched. A shadow moved across her eyes but it was too quick for him read.

"Will you?" she almost choked.

Bravo, Northman. Go ahead, make her cry.

With a nonchalant shake of his head he answered, "No. I won't miss you." Her expression morphed from poignant to indignant. "Because you'll never give me a chance to miss you. You'll be tethered to my side all the time."

She cracked a smile. See, he had tact – or humor, at the very least.

"All the time?" she asked playfully.

"All the fucking time," he stressed. "Until we both grow sick of each other and decide to pull a Shakespeare tragedy."

She laughed at that. Ah, what a joyous sound. That was how battles were won.


E/S

The next day...

She was distracted; that much he could tell. Her head was tilted toward the window as she gazed off into the distance. She was looking rather flushed and it bothered him that she was intentionally avoiding his eyes.

She had been shuttered since she got that phone call earlier. 'It's work; Halleigh wants me fly in today.' It was bullshit but he suppressed the urge to call her out. He knew it was more urgent than work. Perhaps, it was about Bill or Pam.

He turned his eyes back to the windshield before he twisted the steering wheel and pulled the car over.

"Don't go," he said, his tone commanding, leaving no room for rebuttal. "We talked about this. We'll deal with Bill together. Just give me a couple of days to help Dad sort things out in the company and the impending arraignment then we'll fly home together."

She bit her lower lip. Her brows drew closer together as though she was somewhat conflicted.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

Now he was the one who was lost. "For what?"

"For marrying Bill."

His lips thinned into a taut line.

Oh, that.

"S'okay. I understand." He didn't. He probably never would. But this moment was theirs. Why would he ruin it by dwelling on the past?

"I didn't do it because I love him, I did it becau-"

"I don't want to know," he cut her off rather sharply.

Her chin quivered and he instantly regretted snapping at her. For once, he wished he wasn't such an ass.

It was a good thing she decided to ignore his sharp comeback as her hand moved to cup his cheek. "I love you," she husked.

His lips tugged into a lopsided smile as he turned his head and kissed her palm. Goddamn, he was that easy. If he was a girl, he'd be a slut. But only for Sookie. "I love you more."

She beamed.

"I still have to go. I have a few errands to run before I talk to Bill and it's not practical for me to stay here and let things stew in Seattle," she stated her case. "I've made this mess, Eric. Let me be the one to clean it up. You can't be Mighty Mouse all the time."

Superman would have made for a better analogy. But she managed to get her point across. So with another roll of the wheel he drove her to the airport with the heaviest of hearts.

He kissed her hard before letting her off the car. She tapped the glass window and he rolled it down.

"Don't lose your helmet, okay?" she quipped with a wink. It was a private joke. When they were still at the early stage of dating, Dawn, his bitter ex, came up to them and told Sookie that she was like a concussion and soon he would realize that he was too good for Sookie.

His Sookie, with her quick wit and smart mouth, just laughed and countered with 'Don't worry, doll, I bought him a helmet.'

She whisked and trudged toward the airport entry, pulling her small suitcase behind her. He couldn't take his eyes off her. She must have felt he was watching her too because before she stepped inside the entrance, she whipped her head to him and blew him a kiss. It was infantile, downright ridiculous and sickeningly sweet, he almost shivered. He would have caught it if he weren't so concerned of looking like a lovesick puppy.


E/S

Six hours later…

"Are you sure about this Eric?" Russell Edgington asked as he sat beside him in the conference room of the Northman Tower. "Why don't you think about it again? Take as long as you need; you don't have to give us an answer right away."

Eric glanced at the clock on the opposite wall while drumming his fingers idly at the round cherry wood table. It was past four in the afternoon. He wondered what she was doing now. Perhaps she was sipping margaritas with her sister. That or she was in the middle of decorating her front lawn with Bill's v-neck shirts.

"I don't need any more time to think. My decision is final. I'm selling my share."

Russell threw a 'help me' glance in Godric's direction. His father merely shrugged.

"You see this isn't just about your share. With your financial background we can get you a seat on the board. You will work side by side your father. I'm willing to give up my office at the top floor to accommodate you." Russell was relentless. No wonder he made it this far in this business.

Eric sighed. "I appreciate the offer. Really. But I'm not wired for a corporate life. I'm sure my dad will do just fine running this company on his own. With your guidance, of course," he quickly added. "My father knows there is only one thing I want from him."

Russell directed his attention to Godric, who had been deliberately silent the entire meeting.

Godric's shoulders sagged as he closed the folder he had been fiddling with for the past hour. "Russell, would you mind giving us a minute?"

Russell bristled. He must not have been used to taking orders. Especially from his godson. He shook his head gently and gathered his own pile of folders and rose from his seat. "Of course. I'll start briefing the directors."

As soon as Russell shut the door behind him, Godric peeled himself off his chair and grabbed the one closest to Eric.

"I owe you an apology," his father started.

You owe me more than an apology, Eric thought ruefully. He kept his opinion to himself, though, deciding that it was best not to antagonize his father.

"When your mother died, I promised her I'd look after you. That I'd always put your well-being above mine. I failed on both counts. Miserably. When I adopted Sookie, I thought – we thought – that we were doing you both a favor. Pam just got out of rehab; and you and Sookie had that pregnancy scare."

Eric shot his father a 'how did you know' look.

"I'm not as oblivious as you think, son," Godric answered the unspoken query. "You drove to Canada and sold your car. You were gone for days for Pete's sake. I was scared out of my wits. God, I almost asked Lilith for help to track you down. It came to a point where I'd jump every time the phone rang - terrified that it might be from a morgue somewhere asking me to identify your body."

Eric kept his silence, urging his father to get to the damned point.

"With Sookie, you were reckless and stubborn; there was no reasoning with you. Michelle was afraid you'd break her daughter's heart and I feared she'd break you. So we made a decision to throw a wrench in your relationship. It was cruel, I know that now. I had been so fixated with your flaws that I failed to see just how happy she makes you. The person you are when you're with her. It wasn't stubbornness, it was determination. The lengths you were willing to go through for her was unthinkable."

Eric looked away. This kind of talk was making him uncomfortable.

Godric let out a heavy breath and sank back in his chair. "After the arraignment, Michelle and I will get an annulment and overturn the adoption. So you and Sookie can go and start the life we've denied you both."

Eric stared at his father, waiting for his statement to sink in. After a few heartbeats, he nodded and said, "Thank you."

Godric gave him a tight smile. "Don't thank me yet. You still have to settle things with Bill."

Eric rolled his eyes. "Bill won't be a problem."

Godric's smile spread wider. "After what you've done to Lilith and Cataliades, there's no question in my mind you'll kick that bastard's ass."

Eric clicked his tongue mockingly. "Language, old man. Just because you're raised by a pathological bitch doesn't mean you can talk like one."

They both chuckled at that.

"About your share in the Enterprise," Godric muttered taking on a business tone. "I would like you to keep it."

Eric opened his mouth to refute but Godric held a finger. "You don't need to work here. You don't even need to show up for meetings. Consider it as an investment. You'll be my silent partner. Russell's right, I'd need more allies with all the sharks rounding up against me. If you need the money, Karin informed me that Mamma Thalia had included us in her will. Take all of it. Use it however you want. Buy a new bar; build your own empire. Get a big house. Bring Sookie to Sweden and show off the Northman legacy. Your call."

Eric nodded his assent.

"Also, about the Tavern-" Godric was cut off by the knocks on the door followed by Russell's entry.

But it wasn't Russell's abrupt arrival that disgruntled Eric the most, it was the person who was trailing him.

Roman Zimojic.

"What is he doing here?" Godric asked, jabbing a finger in Roman's direction.

"He's here for Eric," Russell replied.

"If you're here to ask for your job back then you've wasted your time. We're not on the market for lapdogs."

Roman stepped forward, ignoring Eric's insult. "Your grandmother wants to speak with you."

Eric forced a hollow chuckle. "Then you better get a medium because my grandmother is dead."

"She thought you'd say that that's why she wants me to give this to you." Roman placed a manila envelope on the table and slid it to Eric.

Eric wanted nothing to do with Lilith but his curiosity got the best of him. Besides if he wouldn't at least check what was inside the package, he was certain his father would. He picked up the thick envelope and appraised it. There was a yellow post-it attached on the flap. He plucked it and read the note.

'Love isn't the strongest emotion, Eric. It's desperation.'


A/N: I don't own Eric.

Okay, I know that was vague but please bear with me for a few more chapters. Much love goes to amandagm, who amidst her awesome work with her own stories, still finds time to read and correct my errors. All remaining mistakes are mine.

Thank you, thank you, thank you for supporting this fic! I feel so cherished by the amount of love I am getting from all of you. Hugs to y'all.