Some have wanted to know what Bill thought of Pam's little delivery a few days ago she sent to him. So, he finally sent her a reply. Thanks for all my wonderful reviews, you all are great! So patient and easy on me, I swear! The gang's going out later tonight, so that'll be the next chapter I'm working on; I just had to appease some who wanted Bill's reaction written in. You guys kill me, lol. I think this may not be the end of their little hatred-fueled long-distance exchanges, perhaps.

A short Chapter Thirty Five, sorry

"Goddamnit!!!"

Tara and I were upstairs in the office when Pam let one fly. We both quirked our eyebrows at each other, and made a beeline for the railing outside our door.

Looking down, we could see Pam standing at one end of the bar with her fingers pinching the bridge of her nose. She looked livid.

We were downstairs and at her side in a flash.

I reached for the photo that was now upside down on the table, but Pam was quicker. She clamped her hand over my wrist and gave me this horrid look.

"Don't."

Tara and I exchanged a look. Telling me "don't" just made me wanna do it anyway. Tara grabbed it before Pam could stop her, taking a quick glance. She quickly threw it down and stepped away from the bar.

"Oh good God, Sookie, don't look at that..that..what the hell is that?" she scrunched up her nose, looking pained.

Now I was even more curious.

"Come on, I wanna see!" I yanked my wrist away from Pam's grasp, as she threw her hands up in disgust.

"Fine, if you wanna see it, be my guest. You'll be sorry, that's all I'm fucking saying." She turned and stormed off, yelling Eric's name.

I reached for the photo, and knew instantly what it was... and it wasn't pretty. It was, well....hairy - black hair, to be specific. I laid the photo back on the bar, face down. Tara smirked at me.

"We did try to tell you, stubborn. You haaaad to look."

I flipped her off and flopped my chin into my hands, propping my elbows on the bar.

"You don't look too surprised. You happen to know what all that's about?" She mirrored me, propping her elbows up on the bar beside me, studying me.

I snorted and stared at the glass behind the bar at my reflection. It was funny to me how I'd never looked in a mirror so much in my life as I had the past few days. It never got old to see myself, my eyes and my skin. It was as if the clock had never struck midnight, and my fairy godmother had forgotten to turn me back into my old plain self.

Of course, I knew what the hell that photo was of. It was paybacks for that huge ass box of garlic cloves Pam had sent Bill right before the wedding. She'd planned it as a joke, to throw salt in his wounds and gloat about Eric and I.

"Bill" I offered indifferently, bored and hungry.

Pam and Eric came stalking in, his boots heavy on the dance floor. His eyes were narrow and his forehead had that little crease in it. I sighed, knowing exactly what was running through his mind: whether it was worth it to react to this little delivery, or to not even give it the time of day.

He looked at me briefly as he approached, taking in my calm demeanor. Deciding that I wasn't upset, his eyes honed in on the little greeting of sorts lying on the bar.

He swiped it roughly and held it to his chest. He looked at me first, and raised an eyebrow.

"Will I be scarred for life if I look, that's all I want to know." He looked completely serious, but for some reason, I had to stifle a snicker.

"Depends" I answered him nonchalantly.

"On what?" he asked, annoyed at the dilemma....to look or not to look, that was the question.

Tara huffed and started back towards the office upstairs. "I'm sure you've seen some fucked up shit in your life, but unless you want to look at Bill's nuts, I'd suggest you not look" she called over her shoulder.

His expression turned from annoyance, to pissed. He ripped the photo away from his chest and looked it over.

"That's Bill?" He put the photo back on the bar after looking at it for a few seconds, and turned to look directly at me. His expression was blank again.

"What?" I asked, trying not to snicker again.

"Is that seriously his dick?" he asked again, his lips quivering slightly. The furrow in his brow was long gone, and his cheekbones had become more prominent, a sure-fire indicator that he was about to burst into a very big smile.

I stared at him, trying not to break. We were getting competitive lately, and this was the same as usual. He was looking at me, begging me to laugh, and I the same to him.

After a few seconds of twitching lips, he finally cracked, unable to hold it in any longer. He bent over slightly, putting an arm on the bar to hold his weight. I joined in, letting myself explode with laughter. The sound of our cackling echoed through the empty, quiet club.

"What in the hell is funny about that? The fucking asspirate addressed it to ME, specifically" Pam said icily.

We both stared at her for a moment, and tried to feel sympathy for her. We really did. That lasted for all of two seconds, before we busted up even harder.

She put her hands on her hips and rolled her eyes at us as we barked out several rounds of laughs.

"Are you two quite finished yet? I can't possibly see how this is fucking funny. And why aren't you traumatized?" she asked, looking at me pointedly.

I shrugged my shoulders and composed myself, finally pulling myself out of my giggle fit. He sobered up as well, seeing Pam looking mighty pissed about seeing something she had never, ever wanted to see.

He smirked at her, and lowered the boom. "You did provoke him. Can you honestly tell me you didn't expect him to send you something back?"

She opened her mouth, started to say something, and then closed it.

"A fucking box of what smells the worst to him is NOT a photo of my cooch. I think that junk shot, as Sookie put it, is above and beyond. I just wanna KILL HIM!" She half roared and half shrieked in frustration, letting it all out in a flurry of words, all in Swedish.

Eric laughed loudly, understanding all of it clearly.

"Alright," he said, changing the topic, "if you want, you and I will hop on a plane and take care of this. Otherwise, I'm gonna get back to it...." he trailed off, still smirking.

With another shriek of frustration, she ripped up the photo and threw the pieces in the trash can behind the bar. She straightened her black button up blouse, smoothed her hair, and held her head high as she walked off, looking as though she hadn't a care in the world.

"Guess we're not organizing a 'Kill Bill' reconnaissance team" he joked, as he gave me a chaste peck on the forehead.

"Don't look at me like that, either, or I'm never gonna get this shit done for tomorrow night. You're delicious, I would like nothing more than to do exactly what you're thinking about...but later, I promise." And with a wink, he sauntered back towards the backroom to finish the inventory with James.

"Fine," I muttered, somewhat annoyed that he wasn't adventurous enough to take a five minute break. "Kill-joy."

I groaned, trying to think of something, anything other than the needs I had. Instead of 'human needs', I found now I had 'vampire needs'. Same ole' shit – different day.

I decided to go back upstairs and help Tara with the rest of the phone calls for the last of the bookings we were finishing. It was going to be a long evening, with my body screaming out for some attention. Well, damn.

Two hours and a few minutes later, miraculously, the inventory was finally finished. Everything else had long been ready for opening night, so that meant when we heard Eric and James downstairs that work time was over, and playtime was soon to commence.

We shut our computers off and got ourselves downstairs in a hurry. James threw some bottles in the microwave behind the bar for us, giving me exactly 1 minute and 45 seconds of tongue time with my hot hunk of tight ass sitting at the bar.

He was talking to James about something over his shoulder when I approached, so I cut right to the chase, sliding in between his legs. I stood right against him, pressing myself into him tightly, shifting myself to create a little bit of friction.

When his head turned, once I had stolen his attention, he licked his lips in anticipation.

"Don't look over the bar unless you want a show" I smirked, unzipping his pants. Tara took my que and ran around behind the bar, jumping her own hot piece of sex-on-a-stick.

I ran my fingers lightly across his silky skin, admiring the difference between that God-awful photo and the Gracious Plenty that was mine. I was rewarded with Eric's fingers lacing in my hair, gripping gently but firmly. His low growl was all the feedback I needed, having suspected that he'd needed a little satisfaction just as much as I did.

I gripped his base tightly, preparing to take him in. I had learned that first night that I no longer had a gag reflex. Eric was very pleased about this, amusingly enough. He was too much for me before, but now...I could take more of him down.

As soon as I wrapped my mouth around him, sounds floated out from behind the bar of parallel pleasures, spurring me on even harder. I gave no warm-up, and instead, started working his length expertly, quickly, working him into a frenzy. I could see his hands go out to grip the bar behind him as he held on for dear life.

"You are...," he gritted his teeth, struggling to think, "I bow to your fucking feet..." was all he managed. If he could talk, I wasn't laying him out properly.

The microwave gave a quiet little 'ding'. Fuck the microwave, and Tara must have agreed. The moans from behind us continued, quietly.

I stood quickly, as he growled in protest, until he saw me shucking my pants. I was bare and straddling him on the barstool right quick, unable to contain my needs any longer. His hands curved underneath each cheek, lifting me up and over him.

He wasted no time making up for the delayed gratification, sending both of us crying out quickly. I felt his teeth against my shoulder, but he abstained from feeding. We both needed fuel first.

Once we had regained some semblance of control, I slid off of him and dressed again. He licked his lips at me with heavy, darkened eyes as he rebuttoned his pants.

James and Tara were quiet now, but hadn't come up for air yet. I grabbed our bloods and set them on the bar. Eric cracked two of them open, handing one to me. Without ceremony, we drank them down greedily, having worked up quite an appetite.

As we were finishing our first round, the other two lovebirds finally showed their faces. Tara's hair was cute, looking like complete sex hair, while James' shirt was buttoned wrong. They were wearing the same satisfied looks we were.

"Damn, I'm ready to fucking party now, man. You up for some late night action with the boys?" James smirked at Eric.

He grabbed me and pulled my back to his chest as he affirmed his need for some cutting loose.

"Hell yeah, but we're gonna have to get somebody laid tonight." He motioned his head towards the direction Pam had stalked off in earlier.

"She's in a foul mood because of some dirty tactics Compton pulled. Personally, since it wasn't addressed to us, I think it's pretty fucking funny, seeing her all pissed off." Eric laughed, squeezing his arms around my chest, chuckling into my hair.

"Dude, I'd fucking kill that prick if he sent that shit to Tara" James said darkly, meaning every word of it. "But Pam," he lightened up again, "was asking for that shit."

"If she wanted retribution, though, he'd be taken care of tonight. One word out of Pam, and tonight would be his last. I think she's plotting revenge, instead. He's become a fucked up plaything of hers" Eric mused, shaking his head.

I pulled Eric by the hand, ready to get the evening started. "Let's find Pam and all of us high-tail our asses over to Peter's place. It's time for a little fun."

A/N: Bill sent the package to the club, not to Viktoria's or Sookie and Eric's. He doesn't know their addresses. If he hadn't heard about the nightclub opening, Bill wouldn't have known to send it there, either. Either way, what a douche. I wouldn't have ripped it up, I would have took a Sharpie and wrote some stuff on there, you know, doodling and stuff about how little it is, etc etc. But Pam was pissed, and had to go and rip it up. Poorly played, Pam. Poorly played. ;)