A/N: Um. These characters aren't mine. Yeah. But these mistakes are, since I added some stuff after I sent it to my beta. Yeah.

Speaking of my beta: chiisai-kitty, who not only betas everything super good, super fast, also finds the time to tweet with me about the clothing on True Blood. Seriously. Tonight we talked about the symbolism of the lace worn by Sookie and Lorena, and also the necessity of unbuttoning Alcide Hevreaux's plaid shirt in a bar fight.

I love her so hard.

I walked back to my house dazedly. The mystery novel I had been reading before my revelation seemed stupid compared to my own mystery that I had stumbled on. I had my mysterious target of suspect, Bill, as well as the handsome and witty partner with whom I'd bounce ideas off of, Eric. All I needed was a trench coat, really. And a primetime television show.

And I needed time to go by faster, so Eric could wake up and I could tell him everything I found out today.

Reading was so out of the question now—as was watching TV. There was no way I could concentrate to even the simplest story line, not when I was having trouble following my own personal one. I could have cooked dinner, but I worried my mind was too frazzled to pay attention to recipes and measuring. I was in no condition to be near hot appliances and sharp knives.

I made my way upstairs and flopped onto my bed. God, I was such a child, hiding under the covers when I found out a vampire was kinda sorta maybe stalking me. At least, I thought he was. There were too many coincidences. Waaaaaaay too many.

I was a little hot under all the blankets, what with my socks and my jeans and an old zip-up hoodie. But I was too lazy, and too tired, to really do anything about it. I fumbled to take my socks off, but with my feet. It took a while, but finally they were off. And then I stuck my feet out, so that they were peeking out of the blankets, and that was a little better. I hugged the blankets around me and even pulled a sheet over my head, so I looked completely covered. I felt safe. Immature and childish, but safe.

So I tried to go to sleep, take a nap, but then I kept thinking about all the things this Bill Compton fella could do to me. And I couldn't have that. So I tried counting sheep, but once I got into the three hundreds I stopped that. Then I tried thinking of everything that was black, the color of my eyelids when they were closed. Because black equaled darkness which equaled sleep which equaled night which equaled Eric being up. And that worked in my mind.

Okay. I can do this. Black. The cookie part of an Oreo. The color of my driveway, which I still needed to get paved. The color that was the zebra's stripes, or the zebra's background, or whatever. The color of the licorice-y jelly beans that I would always give to Gran, because she actually liked them, but now I just threw them out. The color of the pants part of my waitress uniform. The color of …

I woke up being nuzzled. That was a nice way to wake up—a strong arm wrapped around me, a solid chest behind me, and a chin in the crook of my shoulder. Eric, I thought sleepily. I smiled lazily and moved back, so I'd be even closer to him. I sighed contently and stretched my body out, so it'd fit his.

Wait. Eric got his memories back. Eric doesn't live with me anymore. Eric wouldn't be in my bed.

I stilled, body now rigid, and pushed back against a set of rock-hard shoulders.

"Sookie, it's me," a familiar voice murmured.

"Eric?" I whimpered, even though I knew without a doubt it was him.

"Yes." My body relaxed, and Eric lifted his hand and reassuringly rubbed my arm, his fingers somehow managing to penetrate through the fabric of my sweatshirt and getting right to me. I still melted under his touch.

I was dreaming. That had to be it. I was in a dream.

"You know, this is exactly how I saw you the last time," Eric whispered, his lips meeting my ear like the old friends that they were. "Except, now you are wearing more clothes."

He smiled in my hair.

I muttered, "Some dream." The only way this dream could get any better was if we were nakey. Damn, my imagination stunk.

Eric stopped rubbing my arm. "What did you say?"

Even though he couldn't see me, I still furrowed my brow. "I said, some dream."

"Sookie … this isn't a dream." He found my hand and pinched the skin on the back of it. It hurt. "See? No dream. This is real."

The fuck? My jaw dropped. This was real life, and Eric was still in my bed, curled up next to me?

… Voluntarily?

"Sookie?" Eric asked softly, bringing me out of my shock.

"Yeahuh?" I replied, still not capable of real words. Eric was in my bed. Eric was in MY bed.

"Why did you think this was a dream?"

I paused and took a deep breath. "Because I … um, because I thought it was too good to be true."

Eric didn't know what to say to that, and frankly I didn't blame him. He came up with silkily murmuring, "Well then … looks like your dream came true." He resumed slowly rubbing up and down my arm.

"Yeah, well, that's probably because I had a nightmare of a day," I muttered, low but of course not low enough for Eric not to hear it.

"Why don't you tell me about it?" he replied thoughtfully.

My heart was speeding up now, for him to hear and me to feel. He was acting so much like Amnesia Eric right now. I rolled over so I was facing him. He was still under the covers, like me, and as far as I could tell he wasn't wearing his shirt.

No word on the pants situation, though.

His face was now inches away from mine. We were, as Eric would say, within kissing distance.

I said the first thing that came to mind. "Eric, I found out Bill lives in an abandoned house across the graveyard, and that's why his tracks led there." I sounded and felt more awake than ever.

Out of all of the things I could have told Eric about my day, I had picked the one to zap out any sexual tension. Eric instantly sat straight up as soon as I finished talking, the covers floating back down to the bed after being thrust up by the motion of his body.

He was wearing pants.

"That is a nightmare," he groaned. He looked so serious, especially compared to the lazy, cat-in-the-sun grin he'd had on earlier. That worried me.

I sat up too, so now we were sitting upright on my bed, still very close. Our knees were almost touching. We were facing each other, legs crossed Indian-style.

"It's the old Compton house. It's been in that family for at least two hundred years, just like my house has been in the Stackhouse family. Eric, Jesse Compton died like three months ago, and I thought that house was just abandoned. But it all makes sense, don't you see?"

Eric nodded. "It makes sense. But it shouldn't. Why would Bill Compton want to move back to the very spot he was human? Why here? Why now?"

"You know what I think? I think it's recent. I mean, yes, Jesse Compton died a couple months ago, but I feel like Bill would have come over when you were staying with me, you know? Wouldn't he, like, sense or smell you?"

"If he came this way, yes. And if he's been living here for a long time, then he would have went to Merlotte's sooner, don't you think?"

"Yeah!" I said enthusiastically. "It's just like what you said—why here? Why now?"

"I didn't even know he was in the area. And I should have." He ran a hand through his hair, something he did whenever he was upset. I hated that I knew that.

"Oh come on, it's not your fault," I said kindly, thinking he was beating himself up because he didn't follow Bill's tracks more last night. "I mean, what are the chances that he'd live right next door? You didn't know any better."

Eric shook his head. "I should have. You see, because I'm the sheriff of this area, any and all vampires traveling through it, or wanting to settle in it, are required to see me and get my authorization. If Bill was planning on staying in this house, on living in this town, or even visiting his grave, he should have paid me a visit. But he didn't. He should have, but he didn't. And he's an old enough vampire that he would know this."

We exchanged a look. Whoever this Bill was … he meant business. I could tell by the look on Eric's face that he was pissed.

"What are we going to do now?" I asked, sounding as small as my voice sounded.

Eric studied me. Then he abruptly turned and got out of bed, bending over and giving me a view of that gorgeous ass as he reached for the shirt. He put it on, turning towards me to speak as he lifted his arms. When I was sure the shirt was over his face, I smiled giddily, only to completely rearrange my face into a hopefully concerned expression once the shirt was fully in place.

"Now, instead of talking more about your day or all the presents you left for me in my resting place, which is what I really want to do," he said, gesturing to the blanket on the floor, "I am going to the Compton house to have a talk with Bill. And now he's making me even more angry and fed-up than before. You are going to stay here, and don't leave the house whatever happens."

He walked over to my side of the bed, which I was still sitting on. He took a seat next to me, and I shifted so that we were now sitting shoulder-to-shoulder.

"I know it's pretty silly to worry about a vampire … but you'll be okay, right Eric?" I asked timidly.

He smiled softly, turning his head to look at me. I did the same, so we were gazing into each other's eyes. "I'll be fine. I'm over a thousand years old, and Bill is just a baby compared to me, at 140. If he fights, I will fight back harder. If he lies, I will know." He paused before nudging my shoulder with his and joked, "Besides, I am Eric Northman."

"Right, right," I laughed. "I forgot you're like the vampire version of Chuck Norris."

Eric surprised me by laughing and saying, "Right. I have heard of him, this Chuck Norris. He wears a live rattlesnake as a condom. And there is no theory of evolution, just the animals that Chuck Norris allows to live."

I snorted. "Or, Chuck Norris can slam a revolving door, and divide any number by zero. And he ordered a Big Mac at a Burger King once and got one."

Eric smiled. "Or, Chuck Norris doesn't read books—he just stares them down until he gets the information from them. And before the Bogeyman goes to bed, he has to check his closet for Chuck Norris."

"It takes Chuck Norris twenty minutes to watch Sixty Minutes. And when he does a pushup, he doesn't lift his body up—he pushes the Earth down."

"Good one! When Chuck Norris crossed the road, no one dared to ask why."

"Thanks! When Chuck Norris falls in water, Chuck Norris doesn't get wet. Water gets Chuck Norris."

As soon as we both calmed down a little, Eric said, "So you got it wrong, then. I'm not the vampire version of Chuck Norris. Chuck Norris is the human version of me."

Well, that just made me burst out laughing again. Eric joined in too. He added, "But he is not nearly as handsome or sexy as me."

I rolled my eyes. "True."

"And if Chuck Norris ever tried to fight me, I hate to say this, but he'd get vampire roundhouse-kicked in his wrinkly sunburned face."

"True."

It's amazing how a few jokes and laughs can completely brighten the mood. I was feeling much better now, all because of Eric. He was looking a lot more relaxed too.

"So you see? I will be fine. No," he said, and I looked up at him when he said that. He waited until we were staring at each other to firmly add, "I will be more than fine. I will be Eric Northman."

I smiled at him, and he got off the bed to stand up. I did too.

"I'm not sure how long this will take, but I don't want you to stress about it," Eric said, looking over his shoulder at me as he started walking down the stairs.

I nodded my head. "I'll just make myself dinner or something. Oh—I almost forgot! I bought some True Blood at the grocery store today."

Eric stopped walking and turned around to face me. "Wait to eat, until I come back. Please. That way I can have my True Blood while you eat your food, and you can tell me more about your day and what I found in the closet."

A retard smile came on my face. I almost asked him if he somehow got his memories back, because he was acting so much like Amnesiac Eric. "Sure."

"Good." Eric smiled and turned around to walk down the stairs. I was glad about that, because that way he wouldn't be able to see my stupid grin or the obscene way I was ogling his ass.

He walked over to the front door and opened it, stepping out onto the porch. I followed, with neither of us saying anything.

"Go … go Eric Northman his ass!" I finally said, pointing out to where the old Compton house was.

Eric laughed. "I shall." And with one long, final look at me, he vampire speeded away to go do just that.

I stood outside for a little while longer, and then walked back into the kitchen. What would be quick, and easy to make for dinner—and also be distracting? I ended up going with a pizza bagel and salad.

Having already fixed up a salad, I was just taking the pizza bagel out of the toaster oven when there was a knock on the back door. I was on my way over there to open it when the door swung open and Eric strode in, carefully closing the door behind him.

"Eric!" I smiled, walking over to him to give him a hug. If he had snuggled with me earlier, surely it'd be okay to hug him? I almost stopped myself halfway, but I was encouraged by the sight of him walking over to me too.

"Sookie," he said, opening his arms. I stepped in and wrapped my arms around him, smiling as I felt one of his hands cradle the back of my head, fingers losing themselves in my hair.

"How'd it go?" I murmured into his shirt.

"Disappointing," he replied, and I pulled back slightly to look at his face.

"What do you mean?"

"He wasn't there," Eric said flatly.

"But isn't that a good thing?"

"Yes and no." He shrugged his shoulders, and walked over to the kitchen table to sit down—same spot he sat down in last time. I took the seat across from him, all thoughts about dinner or hugging out of my mind.

Once we were settled he continued, "He hasn't been there since last night; his scent was very faint, and the only one I could follow was the same one I followed last night. But it's his house. I didn't need an invitation inside; that's how you can tell a vampire lives there. I also found discarded True Blood bottles in a recycling bin, and smelled him everywhere. So it's definitely his house, that's for sure."

"Oh." I made a face. "Well, at least we know that now, for sure."

"Yes."

"Oh! Speaking of True Bloods, would you like me to get you one?"

"Yes, I'd like that very much. Thank you."

I nodded and picked a bottle of blood out of the fridge. I put it in the microwave and set down my pizza bagel, salad, and utensils on the table. "Want a glass?" I asked.

"Please."

I picked out a wine glass and poured the True Blood into that once it was done. I placed it on a napkin in front of Eric, who thanked me, and went to my seat to start eating.

Eric took a sip of the blood and waited until I took a couple bites out of my pizza bagel before he asked, "So explain to me the presents in my resting spot."

I almost spit out my food. Almost.

Eric looked amused. "Come on, I already told you twice I wanted to hear about it."

To his credit, he had. "Yeah, I know. I just wasn't expecting you to just come out and ask like that."

Looking unperturbed, Eric just shrugged his shoulders.

"Well," I started, "the clothes were the ones I bought for you at Walmart."

He nodded. "I figured as much. And the blanket?"

"I don't know, I had it with me in the car the first night I saw you, and I gave it to you because, you know, you were just wearing jeans and it was cold out. And it became, like, your blanket. Like, when I see it, I call it 'Eric's blanket' in my mind—because we'd lie on it when we talked in front of the fire or when we watched something on TV."

"Why wouldn't you put it back in your car, or in the living room? Why stuff it in my resting place?" Eric asked after a moment.

I hesitated before answering, "It hurt too much to look at. I put everything in your hidey hole the night you got your memories back."

Eric took a swig of his True Blood, apparently done with the questioning. I picked up my pizza bagel and took a bite.

"Now that that's cleared up … what else did you do today, besides doing what Pam would probably classify as Buffy the Vampire Slayer investigating?" Eric asked, setting his glass down and looking across the table at me.

I swallowed. "Um … not much. Went to the grocery store—bought your True Blood. Oh—Jason came by. It's the second time in two days he's come by, all before eleven in the morning, which is weird."

"I'll have to take your word for it. I've never met him."

Oh. Um. About that … "So, uh, what are we going to do tonight? And what on earth are we going to do about Bill?"

"I was thinking that we would go to Fangtasia. That's where I would go if I was Bill and I knew there was a chance that the Sheriff of the area knew I was unlawfully in his area. Quite frankly, I'm surprised he didn't even try to glamour you into forgetting you ever saw him—I would have. But that doesn't matter. We can wait for him to come to Fangtasia, and even if he doesn't show, you never read the employees at Fangtasia for me. Remember? You just read the customers."

"Yeah. I remember." I also remembered why I never got to read the employees, and from the way Eric had just gone silent, I'd say he was remembering too.

I took another bite and chewed slowly. "Okay. Okay, yeah. Fangtasia's fine. Um, I should probably get dressed for it."

"Why?" Eric asked curiously.

"Because you know … it's Fangtasia," I said, like that explained it all. Fangtasia was a club, so therefore I should get dressed up when I go to it. Right?

"Yeah. Fangtasia. A vampire bar teeming with desperate fangbangers," Eric said, sounding more disgusted than I would have expected. He leaned back in his chair. "What you're wearing is fine. In fact, I wish more of Fangtasia's patrons would wear normal clothes like what you have on, rather than that hideous black leather nonsense. Pam is not the only one who hates dressing up for Fangtasia, you know."

"I know. But suppose Bill shows up? And I'm there at Fangtasia? Won't he expect me to be, like, a normal fangbanger? Isn't that what we agreed on last night? If you're paying me so much attention, shouldn't I have to look like I would deserve it?"

"You would with what you are wearing now. All Bill would have to do is look at you and he'd see why you'd be with me," Eric replied honestly. And I don't know how he did it, but he sounded so sincere that I didn't doubt him. There wasn't any cheese-factor in that statement. None.

I blushed and stammered, "Although I appreciate what you're saying, Eric—and believe me, I do—um, I don't know, I feel like if Bill buys that I'm yours, or whatever, then he'll quit sniffing around me. You know what I mean?"

"Sure. And who am I to prevent a lady from beautifying herself even more? Although, I don't remember seeing any leather or corsets in your closet," Eric said, winking.

Oh my God. Who was this Eric? Whoever he is, can he be the permanent one?

I laughed. "Well, I have that purple dress I wore the last time to Fangtasia. Do you remember that?"

"The one that looked like it was painted on your body? Of course." He smiled quickly, not showing any teeth.

I blushed. A lot. "Uh, yeah. That would be the one. And I also have like, a red cocktail dress, and a black-and-nude lacey one. I think those would be the best ones."

"I did like the first dress you wore, the white one with red flowers," Eric said, remembering out loud.

"Really?" I asked, fascinated. I leaned in on my elbows so I'd be closer to him. I never would have guessed. From what I remembered of that night, I would have thought Eric was too busy being a jerk to notice what I was wearing. And I was surprised he remembered that dress too.

He nodded. "But I don't want Bill to see you in it. If he did, then he might try to take you away from me."

I smiled nervously, appreciating the compliment (duh) but not knowing if he was kidding. "Guess that means I'll just have to do some trying on, then," I said, getting up to clear the table. Eric picked up his bottle and walked over to the sink behind me, putting it in the sink.

Once I was done, I headed up the stairs and Eric sat down in the living room. When I reached my room, I went to my closet and grabbed the two dresses I hadn't worn to Fangtasia. I had to go to the bathroom, so I took one of the dresses with me there, thinking I could hit two birds with one stone.

I had forgotten to grab my strapless bra from the drawer, so I just took my bra off and stepped into the red one-shouldered dress. I tried to zipper it up, but the zipper was in the back so I only got it to go an inch or so before I couldn't do anything more about it. Whatever.

I walked back to the bedroom and almost had a heart attack when I saw Eric lying down on the bed, balancing his glass of True Blood on his chest. He put it on the night stand and sat up straight when I walked into the room and stopped.

"Your zipper isn't all the way up," he murmured, getting up and walking over to me. "Turn around. I'll do it for you." I obliged, and was awarded with the sensation of having one of Eric's hands placed on the small of my back while the other one slowly moved the zipper. I held my breath, and when he zipped me up some of the way, he stopped and carefully gathered all of my hair to one side, placing it over one shoulder so it wouldn't be in his way.

"There we go," he murmured once he was done.

I turned around to face him. "Thank you, Eric," I said, my voice sounding breathy for some reason.

He nodded. "It looks good on you. The color, especially."

"Again, thank you, Eric." I almost told him to take a mental picture so he'd have something to compare the other one with, but the look in his eyes told me he had already memorized how I looked.

I ducked my head and walked over to the mirror. Eric was right. The dress looked damn good on me, if I did say so myself.

"Okay. On to the next one," I said after a moment, brushing past Eric to go back to the bathroom.

"Would you like me to unzip you?" he asked, stopping me in my tracks.

Whoops, I had forgotten about that. "Oh yeah, that'd be great."

He did. Slowly. All the way down.

"I can't tell you how familiar this all feels … being in this room, lying in your bed, touching you. It's as if I know that there are things that happened here, in your house, in your room, in your bed, with you … but I don't know what they are. It's fucking annoying," he said slowly, looking at me the whole time, watching my expression. Which was, stupefied.

There was heavy silence then, as we gazed at each other.

"I really ought to try on the other dress," I finally managed to get out. Eric nodded a little and sat back down on the side of the bed.

With trembling legs, I walked back into the bathroom and changed into the next dress, the nude one with off-the-shoulder bands and black lace; the pattern looked like it could be on one of the fancy lingerie bras or nighties I'd see in the windows of the Victoria's Secret at the mall in Monroe. The fact that my skin was almost, almost the same color as the nude undertone of the dress made it even sexier—and made me feel even sexier.

Unfortunately, this dress had a side-zipper, so I didn't need Eric to zip me up. Damn.

But I knew right away that this was the dress I'd be wearing to Fangtasia, and the special romantic-movie-star way that Eric looked at me when I entered the room only cemented my decision.

He didn't speak for a couple seconds, until he huskily murmured, "There's no way you're not mine when you're wearing that."

Good Lord, when he said things like that, I just wanted to jump him. Pure and simple.

I settled for spinning around and saying, "I take it you like it, then?"

"But of course."

"Good. 'Cause it's the one I'm wearing," I said, walking to the dresser and opening the underwear drawer. I settled for a nude strapless bra and a plain black thong, since I thought they fit with the theme of the dress.

"I'm going to go and do my makeup and stuff, but I'll try not to be too female and leave you waiting forever!" I continued, walking back to the bathroom. I turned around and saw that Eric went back to sitting on the bed.

Once in the bathroom I changed and put some makeup on—I tried doing "cat-eyes" with my eyeliner and I thought it looked okay, so I went with that and some red lip gloss, since I didn't actually own any red lipstick (never had a reason, until now, maybe). I parted my hair to the side and twisted it into a low bun, so that with my hair out of the way my shoulders and collar bone would be highlighted better, since they were on display thanks to the dress. The whole thing only took about twenty minutes, and I was almost as proud as that as I was with myself, for looking and feeling so good tonight.

Smiling, I walked back to the bedroom and saw that Eric was exactly as I left him, sitting on the side of the bed. He was staring at my wall, and it wasn't until I walked in the room that he kind of shook himself and came out of this, well, vampire down-time I guess. It seemed like he had been sleeping but without actually sleeping and without actually closing his eyes. Ever since I walked in the room he looked wide awake.

I walked over to the closet and picked out the black clutch and the heels I had brought to Fangtasia the last time I went, and after that I was all set.

As Eric went to put his glass in the sink, I put some money, my license, and my lip gloss in the clutch and said good bye to Tina, who was lounging on the couch.

Eric walked in the living room then. "Ready to go?"

"Yep. You?"

"Yes. It's exciting, don't you think?" he said, walking out the front door.

"What is?" I asked.

"Not having any idea how this night is going to turn out." He glanced at me and grinned.

Walking over to the driver's side of my car and unlocking it with my key, I replied, "Now you know how I feel whenever I go to Fangtasia."

He waited until we were both in the car to say, "Then you should come to Fangtasia more often."

A/N: As awesome as it would be, I did not come up with those Chuck Norris facts. *sad panda* If you're looking for a laugh, I would highly recommend going over to

http:/www. chucknorrisfacts. com/chuck-norris-top-50-facts

A/N 2: So if you have me on author alert, then you would have seen that I posted an outtake of DTMW yesterday. It's for my good friend AlisonbyNumbers/Northman Maille, and a bunch of us Sookieverse ladies came together and shared little stories we wrote as a ginormous get-well-soon gift for Alison. The fic is called, "Forget 'Dear Abby,' this is for Dear Ali!" is told in Pam POV, from the part in chapter 7 where Sookie calls Pam for advice about vampire teeth; I remembered Alison really liked that scene, so I kind of, err, revamped it for her! It can be found on my author page and also the author page that was created for this whole thing, http:/www. fanfiction. net/u/2419303/Alison_beads_of_fiction. And in lieu of leaving reviews, I'd rather you left get well wishes for Alison!

A/N 3: Soooooo, Eric and Sookie are holding a little stakeout for Bill the next chapter, huh? Bwahahaha. That should be up in a couple of days, just putting the finishing touches on it now.