Hey guys,

As usual I own nothing to do with TB. Hope this one is okay and that you find some enjoyment out of it, despite its usual silliness and craziness :P Thank you!

Chapter Thirty Six

I was starting to feel it was all a huge and terrible joke. Eric goading this poor little boy to come outside with him.

I only realize it isn't when Eric scruffs him by the front of his shirt roughly, bringing the lanky boy to his feet.

Any relief I could have felt over this display of reaction from Eric is severely doused, when I see how serious and grim Eric looks. The poor boy is trembling and sobbing so hard, it tears my heart into two.

What on earth have I gone and done?

Shouldn't I have already learned by now how out of control and overboard Eric can get when he is truly peeved off? Why had I been so silly to take Tara's advice while knowing the type of hot-headed man Eric could be at times?

Sure, he may be defending his territory but he's a grown-ass vamp while his 'competitor' is a poor little defenseless boy who, by the looks of him, is nearing peeing himself point. Really, considering how dangerous Eric looks, I could hardly blame him. I was nearing peeing myself point as well; though, luckily for me, not only did I have proper control over my bladder right now, but I wasn't the one being threatened by a thousand-year-old, six-foot-something Viking vamp.

"Well, let's go, tiny meatball. Let's fight for her like men." The look on Eric's face isn't reassuring to me in the slightest; It's pure predator.

"Eric, don't do this," I say, voice full of warning. "This isn't necessary!"

When he ignores me, guiding the poor lad towards the door forcefully, I take matters into my own hands by slipping directly in front them, hopefully in a way that acts as a barrier to prevent Eric from hauling him out. I stare up at Eric's face pleadingly.

"He's just a little boy. You're not really gonna take him outside to brawl with him, right? This is just a big joke to scare me, isn't it? Well, hardy-ha. You've succeeded, so please... whatever you are trying to do, it ends right now!"

He looks at the little boy, watching the tears stream down his face pitifully. The poor little guy is too scared to even look at him; He refuses eye-contact, peering down at the floor instead, his shoulders hunched forward.

"Are you really going with him tonight, Perky? This... This..." He scrutinizes the boy hard for a moment, "I don't even know what the hell it is! Is it actually a boy or is it a small girl?"

"Um, it's a boy, of course! And you're really daring to ask me whether I'm going off with him tonight?" The fact he has to ask me that is quite frankly insulting. "No, I don't even know the poor boy, I swear," I breathe out. "Hell, I've never even seen him before! And besides, look at him! There's a name to call someone whose going home with somebody as young as him, and its called... pedophilia! People go to jail for that kind of sick and bad stuff! Do you really think I'd go off with a little boy like him? I mean, seriously!"

My voice is all high-pitched and loud in all my anxiety to get him to understand.

"This was all my fault, and I'm so sorry," I say desperately, looking between both the boy and Eric. "I didn't realize it would go this far! And this poor little boy, he's done nothing, not to me or anybody! I'm just being real immature right now, and I'm sorry! Let's not overreact to this, please!"

Eric glances at me again indecisively. "But Sookie, you are mine," he says, his voice so low and rumbly in such definite tones that it shakes me all over.

"Yes, I am," I agree without thought. "I am yours, and I think I'll always be yours. From my head down to my toes, I'm yours. I'm your Perky, and... it... it's all yours." My emotions from the past few confusing days threaten to make me cry, and I feel my jaw tighten and wobble. "But if you don't let this poor boy go, then we're gonna be having some serious problems here."

"I come here tonight to try to resolve our issues and, yet, I find you telling meatsack boy over here that you're going home with him right before my very own eyes?" God, he's not only pissed off. He's enraged.

"I know." I swallow hard, not proud to have to admit the next part. "Truth is, I just wasn't so sure where we stood, and... and Tara told me I should try make you jealous. So that was why I said what I did, involving him." My eyes flit to the boy sadly. I can't believe I had let this get this far, so blown out of proportion. "I'm sorry, and I... I know I don't always do the right things. I'm that inexperienced with all of this that I suppose I just... I should have gotten over myself and asked you straight up instead of involving some outsider into my childish crap."

I feel the wave of tension leave my body almost immediately when Eric releases the boys shirt at last. Oh, thank god for that. The poor boy makes a noise of relief before full-on running away, outside of Merlotte's, a wet patch there on the back of his jeans. Already, the poor boy has wet himself. Probably just out of sheer relief of getting away safe and unharmed.

"Thank you," I get out with a gasp.

Just when I'm feeling too complacent, Eric takes my hand, leaning down towards me slightly with a look that I can only describe as frighteningly determined. "You and me, outside. Now," he demands tersely.

Oh, great. Now he's wanting to pick a brawl with me...

And seeing as its only fair that we sit down and talk out this mess, I can do nothing else but agree. Eric is clearly not letting me take the easy way out tonight.

"Sam, I'm heading out on my break."

A part of me just wants to run and avoid this conversation altogether, but clearly Eric's not having that. His grip on my hand is so tight that I can do nothing else but let him lead me outside.

The nerves get so bad that I actually feel nauseous and as though I want to vomit, but I can't afford to vomit in front of him again, not after last night. Something told me we needed this; To just sit still and have a good, meaningful talk to finally solve this, yet I feel petrified at having to.

Already, I feel all cotton-mouthed and I know its going to be so incredibly hard to say what the heck I feel needs to be said. But when Eric finally turns to face me after we find a reasonably quiet and private area outside the bar, I'm relieved to see he looks almost as anxious as I feel on the inside. Guess we both are equally as bad as the other at having to say this type of stuff...

That urge to vomit gets even worse when he leans against the brick wall beside us, his hand still holding onto mine.

I say the first thing that comes to mind, just to break the nervous tension, I guess. "I'm real sorry about vomiting on you last night," I say, then cringe. "Well, I mean, not vomiting on you exactly 'cause I know I never did that." I smile up at him, my mouth all twitchy. "But vomiting near you and you having to see me like that. I'm betting it wasn't exactly very nice for you, huh?"

"Well, Perky. I'll just say that it definitely wasn't your finest moment."

I laugh, and it seems to take that edge off wonderfully. "Yeah, I know that. And it definitely wasn't."

A weird moment of silence falls between us, where Eric just seems only to stare into my eyes searchingly while stroking my hand with his fingertips. It's obvious he isn't going to be the one to say it first, which means I'll have to. I suck in a deep breath, readying myself for it. Then I have to look away.

I don't think I can do this. I'm far too chicken-shit for all of this, my brain screams at me. Run. Run away, because you're just gonna do something or say something you'll regret and make it embarrassing like always...

But I shut that little voice up by kicking her in the face, with some mental effort. Really, this has to happen, otherwise I will regret it for the rest of my life. I don't want this to be the end and, frankly, I've been missing him like hell. I wouldn't have the faintest idea whether he still feels the same way, but I've got to just risk it and take the chance, don't I?

Men like aggressive women who say what they have to. That's what Tara told me this morning. Maybe that piece of advice was the one right thing she suggested to me that wouldn't actually make any of this worse?

"Okay, well. I guess I'll go first," I say anxiously when it occurs to me that its probably exactly what he wants. I can hardly bring myself to look him in the eye, so I simply stare at our hands instead. "I know that I ought to have just been straightforward and tell you this last night, but I guess I just... I wasn't in the right frame of mind. I was drunk, as you know. The tequila kind of clouded my judgment and what I was really trying to tell you."

"So tell me what you wanted to say now, Perky."

"Well, I suppose I wanted to tell you last night before I had a visit from Ralph that I..." I swallow nervously. I meet his eyes, because I find myself wanting him to see them when I say the next part. It's hard, and I find myself wanting to shy away when he holds my gaze intently, but I can't. I have to be a big girl about this. "I know we have a lot of things to work on, and I know I'm so terribly crap at this, and... you can sometimes be, too. I think its safe to say that we are both pretty new at this, and half the time, I guess that's why I can't get this right. I can't say or do the right things half the time, and I know that. But I-"

I stop for a moment, peering up at his face again. I haven't lost him, at least. But he isn't exactly helping me out either,

Short and straight to the point. Just keep it short and sweet. "What I'm trying to say here, really, is that I... I don't want to say our goodbyes just yet. I know I've been immature about how I went about this, especially trying to get you jealous just then and almost making you brawl with a little boy, but I guess I... I didn't know how else to do this." I shrug helplessly. "I don't know what the hell I'm doing half the time and I-"

"-I was," he cuts through me, his voice so low and spoken through gritted teeth that it is almost inaudible.

"Huh? You were what?"

"Jealous, if that is even the right fucking word for it." Just by his serious tone of voice, I can tell he is still majorly grumpy over that. And really, can I blame him? "I definitely would have tore his intestines out and smeared them all over the walls if you hadn't stopped me."

Knowing Eric, that's probably exactly what he would have done. Gosh, poor boy. Terrible as it is of me, I can't help but feel somewhat pleased that he felt that strongly over it, though.

"Well, I got to say I'm relieved then. Not that you'd felt tempted to do that to the poor little boy, of course, but... um, relieved that you felt that way. That you felt that strongly over the idea of me being with someone else, or at least... taking up with someone else. After what you said to me, how you said I was pretty much nothing to you... I wasn't so sure you'd give a possums fart either way."

His brows furrow and he gives me a very annoyed look. "I thought I had made it clear last night? I was just saying that to be an asshole, that you were nothing to me."

"Well, it definitely didn't feel that way at the time," I point out crisply.

"Well, as much as this... this disturbs me to have to point it out to you clearly yet again, you are the opposite of nothing to me, Perky."

Startling me, he slips one hand under my chin, lifting my head slightly so I'll have to look at him. It's more than I feel I can handle, but I surrender, meeting his eyes. What I see there on his face is surprisingly gentle. Tender, and without an ounce of disgust whatsoever. Wow, talk about progress.

"I am sorry that I hurt you the way that I did while telling you that, but I... I didn't know what else to say." There's uncertainty gleaming there in his eyes for me and he swallows audibly. "And yes, you're right," he goes on after a moment strongly, "I am new at this as well. Shit at this, in fact. But just because I don't show my sappy side very often, or I don't say the right things, it doesn't mean that I don't care for you." He says it all with the utmost sincerity. "Words just have never come easily to me, unless they are... vulgar or rude. But let me tell you; I would slaughter a room full of both vampire and human for you, and trust me, I wouldn't do that unless you meant a very big deal to me."

My heart explodes in my chest with a rush of different feelings impossible to describe. Then the tears start to well in my eyes over the overwhelming emotions hitting me due to his words. Finally, he's said it. What I needed to hear, that he does still care, that I'm not really nothing to him.

His eyes flicker downwards and I don't realize the waterworks has began until I feel the tears start rolling down my cheeks. He strokes my chin with his thumb. "What?" he breathes in confusion, no doubt taking in my tears. "Let me guess," he sighs in frustration after a moment, "I've gone and fucked this up by saying the wrong thing again, haven't I?"

Him coming to that conclusion automatically makes me give out a watery laugh. "No, not at all," I assure him, smiling tightly. "It's just that... those were exactly the words I have been waiting for you to say, ever since what you said, about me being nothing to you. And I wanted to say it too, so badly. I just weren't sure we were on the same page or not." I inhale in a deep breath, sobering myself up for it. "I wanted to tell you last night before I threw up that I... I was in no way ready to say my goodbyes yet, that I hoped it weren't the end for us. I just... didn't want to say the wrong thing at the time. Well, really, I vomited instead of saying it, and I... I said all this other crap that wasn't even hardly half of what I was wanting to say."

Hardly caring anymore, I place both hands on his shoulders, standing higher up on my tiptoes.

"I don't care that you have your Godric visions, that you swear like a sailor or that we fight all the time. I hardly even care that you have a reputation for being a homicidal, crazy vampire, because I... I love you, and I don't care about any of that. And, about you not wanting to be sappy, well... I can't change the way you are and the way Godric made you and all, and I think I can learn to get past that, because I want you the way you are and only you."

Here I am, spewing out the sappiest things I had ever said to him, as though we were in some kind of rom-com. To his credit, Eric doesn't make a sickened face at me. I don't care though, either way; I don't care how cliche it all probably is to him, because its the damn well truth.

"I want us to be back together, because I... I've missed you like hell. I don't care that we aren't like other couples, in that we talk about crazy things or we... do weird stuff, because it makes me happy. It makes my day spending time with you. Now, I don't know if you feel the same way?" I ask hesitatingly, searching around his face for the answer on that. "But... if you don't, then I guess I... I'm being silly, aren't I?"

This is the ultra scary part. Waiting for him to either reciprocate or to shoot me down.

Only when I look up at his face carefully, I realize my answer is already there. While he can be poker-faced at times, on this, Eric isn't. Emotion fills his eyes as they bore into mine, and he opens his mouth, about to say it.

But that's when the air surrounding us seems to shift unnervingly. I think we about notice it at the same time; Eric's fangs shoot down while he goes all tense and rigid, and before I know it, he is shoving me flat up against the wall and standing over me in protective grumpy vamp mode.

"There they are... Holy fucking shit, he's a fanger which means I can score me some easy V..."

A rumbling growling noise erupts from around us. Then another one, from another creature, and then another one. Three. Three creatures.

"...He's gonna be so thrilled about this... Score some easy V on the job... Stupid bitch isn't gonna know what's hit her once Talbot's done with her..."

"Talbot," I breathe anxiously, just loud enough so only Eric can hear me. "He's probably planning to get you back for you killing his husband last night. I can hear them, all three of them."

Throwing me in a loop, Eric looks back at me and starts laughing like I've said something so frigging hilarious to him, like I've just said some joke. For the life of me, I can't figure out what could possibly be so funny in this situation?

"What are you-?" I start through gritted teeth in irritation before he sends a meaningful look my way. It seems a look to me that says I ought to laugh, too. I mightn't be able to hear him telepathically but I sure do know him well enough. Despite how scary the situation is, I force myself to laugh as well, like he's saying something funny back to me.

Then his arms come around me, pulling me off the wall and against him in a bruising way. He laughs again and so do I, while I feel him shoving his feet under mine, forcing me to step on both of his shoes. I don't know what he is playing at, but I try to play along, despite how clueless I am into what's happening. It starts to sink in when while one hand is around my back, holding me firm to him, his other hand comes up, his fingers threading through the strands of my hair gently.

"Oh, great... this'll be so fucking easy... Won't see it coming... Horny... Idiots..."

I bring my hands around him, sliding them slowly up his shirt like a caress, before settling my hands onto his shoulders tightly while peering at Eric's face briefly. He looks distracted somehow. Then I feel the rise in the front of his jeans and I think I about get it, then. He's not completely playing with the part.

"Oh, yeah," I say in the most aroused voice I can make without actually being aroused, for the sake of the three guys around us waiting for the moment to catch us, of course. "Screw me. Screw me up against the wall right now." I feel my cheeks flame at how dirty I'm being, but if you're going to do something, you might as well do it well. "I know you're ready for it. Is that a pen in your pocket, or are you just happy to see little, old me?"

Eric's arm tightens around my back as he raises an eyebrow at me questioningly, and I very nearly fall off him into the wall if he hadn't been holding me strong enough, when he thrusts once with his groin at the spot between my legs, the friction so right and on point that its almost devastating. A groan leaves my mouth, and he makes a throaty noise himself.

Already, we're both panting heavily.

"What the fuck are you doing right now?" he asks me in a strained voice.

"Hell if I know."

"Well, Perky, I can't concentrate on this when you're-"

I retaliate by rubbing myself against him in return. It shuts him up wonderfully. He closes his eyes tightly, mouth parted and fangs glistening.

"Go... Let's fucking do this shit..."

"Now," I squeeze out through my teeth desperately. And I'm not talking about us clothes humping some more either, despite the aching in my loins for it.

I shove my chin into his shoulder, looking straight past us. Since I'm the one facing away from the wall, I see them then. My stomach clenches fearfully when they come out of the bushed area in the parking lot. They aren't what I'm expecting at all. They aren't mere men. They're dogs. Wolves. Three wolves. Scampering straight towards us like we were their prey.

"Paybacks going to be a bitch later," Eric says warningly in my ear. "We're not done with this just yet."

"Just go! Do it already! Now's the time!"

As I cling to his neck with my arms wrapped around him, the wolves are just about to reach us, snarling with their teeth bared, before we vault into the air, just in the nick of time. The roaring wind blasting in my ears drowns out any screams I'm making when my legs flail about around me and my stomach lurches at the sudden upward movement.

My arms stiffen reflexively around Eric's neck as the wind stings my eyes, but I refuse to close them. When I peer down, fear is instantly replaced by amazement, and my screams turn into incredulous laughter. It sure is something to see Bon Temps from high up above. When we start getting lower and lower, suddenly those small houses and roofs become recognizable. The church hall. Convenience stores.

Then I spot a small little figure in a house across the cemetery. It's a person, though they are so minuscule and small that they look like an ant. Then the lower we drop more, I realize it isn't exactly a person. It's a lawn chair. A person's sitting in it, at this ridiculous hour of the night.

With a whooshing sound, we are gliding diagonally towards that small person in that lawn chair. Eric's clearly aiming for that person. I only realize who that person is lounging in that chair, once we are about a meter above them.

Bill Compton.

My legs are still swinging crazily so I twine mine through his, fully trusting him not to collide with the Vampire Bill and his lawn chair. Yet when I allow myself to peek at Eric's face I'd say he hardly cares either way. So once there's a thud when we hit the ground, I hear Bill make an alarmed noise when Eric decides to lose our footing, most likely on purpose.

Bill catapults out of his lawn chair just in time before we hit it. A sudden aching twinge hits my back as it connects with the hard wood of the chair, but all in all, we have safely grounded, away from the wolves and Talbot's men for the time being.

Suddenly Eric rolls over so that I'm laying on top of him on the lawn chair, and when we both look at vampire Bill, he looks anything but pleased, his arms crossed tightly over his chest.

"Whoops. Sorry about that, Billy-Boy," Eric says, hardly sounding as if he means it though. "It seems I have gotten my geography screwed up. I was meant to land in Sookie's yard, rather than yours." I know that Eric's simply doing it on purpose, but astonishingly, when it comes to Bill, I find myself hardly caring in the slightest.

Hoping you enjoyed this one? Sorry if its annoying, the constant fighting and misunderstandings; It's really just how these two are, stumbling and learning, but they get there LOL. More plot will be involved shortly, with a were showdown, Sookie's flashlight fingers making an appearance, her fairy Grandfather Niall, and Eric having a slip-up referring to Sookie as his wife, etc. :) Hope you aren't getting sick of the story?