Warning: the below is rated M, very M. You have been warned.

Chapter 37

Sookie POVff

Eric hustles me out of the hall after the Queen exits, and I have to acknowledge that I am just as motivated to get out of here. I start to talk to him in the elevator, but he just shakes his head and motions for me to wait. I guess if the Queen's doors open with finger prints, it's not such a crazy idea to think that she would have security cameras/listening devices.

As much as I want to get out of the mansion, I know that every step I take is bringing me closer to a confrontation with Eric about tonight's events.

I expect a car to be waiting at the front, but instead of waiting for one to pull up, Eric sweeps me up and we are fifty feet up before I can blink.

I manage a "meep," but it is quickly lost in the wind.

I chance a glance at Eric, and see that he is looking straight ahead. In other words, not at me.

My gut tightens.

Okay, fine, I can use the 'flight' to think. What can I say to defend my actions? 'I thought it was for the best'… hmm, crap. That's probably not going to hold water. I had this all codified for myself before I left. I guess there's the fact that things worked out... but I know as much as he does that it could have totally blown up in my face.

I hate being in the wrong. I hate having no idea how he's going to react. I can imagine several scenarios; I let my mind wander over them as we fly: A) He could be pissed and just drop me off at my car and ignore me; torturing me with silence. B) He could yell at me, and scold me for being so foolish. C) He could glaze over this whole issue and fuck me senseless.

Somehow 'C' seems more like wishful thinking. I'm probably in for some combination of all three… or some left-field 'D' option I can't even imagine. Not knowing is driving me crazy.

I look down and no longer see the city beneath us. "Um, Eric, where are we going?"

"I am taking you back to Bon Temps."

Okay. "What about my car?"

…

"Eric?"

"Pam will drive it back."

I don't chance asking anything else. He still hasn't looked at me. I huddle a little closer in his arms to brace against the wind. We must be going pretty fast, I glance at the ground again and can't make anything out. Whether that's due to the speed or the darkness I can't tell.

I try to think about other things: Bill's upcoming trip to "Seattle," for one, but my mind keeps coming back to Eric.

The more I think, the worse I feel, and the worse I feel, the angrier I get. Yes, my actions were stupid and rash, but damn it! What was I supposed to do? Gran's death pushed my plans back so far that I had to rush off to save Hadley. And, okay, yes I could have told Eric. I could have asked Eric to come with me, but he works for the Queen too. He hasn't said anything about what we are doing, or what we are to each other. I'm sure he hasn't said anything about our relationship to the Queen. I was just doing what I thought was best. Suddenly that doesn't sound as weak. I can't tell if I'm just riling myself up, or if I actually do have a leg to stand on here.

Is it so outrageous that I made decisions for myself? How can Eric be mad about me not telling him when for all intents and purposes we've only been together for a couple of weeks? And are we together? We still haven't had that talk.

By the time we touch down at my house I'm fuming, and raring for a fight.

As soon as I'm settled however, Eric begins to take off.

Oh shit! Option D: Totally ditching me as soon as possible!

My cheeks burn as I realized that tears are welling up in my eyes. I can't believe he's just leaving. Have I totally misread this whole thing? Has he just plain had enough?

"Where—where are you going?" I try not to sound as devastated as I feel. He's already three stories up, but his super vampire hearing catches my question. He quickly descends back down to my level, but stays airborne.

"I have some things to take care of. I may be able to come by later."

He doesn't sound mad. He doesn't sound anything. 'He may be able to come by later.' I blink to clear my eyes, and when I look up again, he's gone. I want to scream and cry and stomp my feet. I settle for stomping into the house. I do the dishes, dust the downstairs and take a shower. As I scrub at my face in the shower I let any tears that want to fall, fall. They all mix in with the water anyway. Crying in the shower almost doesn't count.

By the time I get out I'm at my wit's end. I have no idea where Eric is, or how long he'll be, or… oh. Oh.

I suppose this is exactly how he must have felt earlier this evening. Only, I'm pretty sure he's not in terrible danger. I'm pretty sure he's not risking my well-being in a half-cocked plan.

I feel my face get hot as I blush. At the very least I should have told him; told him myself, in person…

I take a deep breath and start drying my hair. This is a new start for us…well, an actual start for us. It's been going so well up until now. If Eric comes back, no, when Eric comes back, I am going to explain as best I can and have a real grown-up conversation about what is going on between us, and what happened tonight. If I want him to take our relationship seriously, I have to too.

No more running. No more rescinding invitations or ignoring calls when things get difficult.

I watch as my reflection in the mirror shifts from grim determination to a crafty grin.

Now, what can I wear that will get me the most sympathy?

Eric POV

I am, as the humans would say 'totally in the shitter.'

A half-mile away from the house I call Pam to inform her that the rest of her night will involve going to New Orleans and driving Sookie's car back to Bon Temps. When Sookie asked about her car I hadn't even given it a thought; I was concerned with only one thing: getting away from the Queen as quickly as possible. I am getting sloppy.

I double back and start searching the woods around her house. I wouldn't put it past the Queen to send Siegbert or some other goon after Sookie right away. I just hope it's not Andre. Sookie is maddening. I seem to be unable to predict what she will do; and unable to predict what others will do when interacting with her.

She is utterly unpredictable.

It's possible that the Queen really does plan to capitulate; it would be the first time in a thousand years that she has followed the wishes of a human, but I suppose it's possible.

That is not entirely true. She submitted to Hadley's desire to be turned, even though she knew it would not be… ideal. Perhaps there is something about Sookie's family that vampires cannot deny? I've searched the entire property, and see no signs of foul play. I would call on Bubba to start keeping watch over her, but Bubba's movements must be reported to the Queen. As much as I hate it, I may have to have Bill look after her. He is the only one short of hiring a were that could protect Sookie against any action the Queen might take on short notice.

I make some calls and decide what to do. I know I should go back to Shreveport and leave Sookie to consider her actions. I should go back and consider if all this is really worth it.

Bill's words play again in my mind: You are too concerned with keeping Sookie all to yourself. Is that what this is about? Are you angry she came to me rather than you?

I cannot hide from myself. Mostly, I am angry that Sookie was so careless, and put us both in a compromising position; but I am also… upset… that she did not even have the consideration to tell me what she was doing. She put herself in danger. That, in turn riles me. I have committed to making Sookie mine, but did not consider that in the process I would somehow also become hers. Keeping our relationship from the Queen for much longer is not wise, but without a blood bond, I will appear weak.

I grow increasing frustrated; there are no good options here.

Without really deciding anything I fly directly to her bedroom window, which has become a habit over the last few weeks. She is curled up in the chair across from her bed reading a book. I can smell fresh cleaning products downstairs, and the soothing moist soap-smell from her shower. She must have showered recently; her hair is still slightly damp around the ends, and tumbles over her shoulders in loose curls. Instead of a nightgown, she is wearing small, plaid cotton draw-string shorts and a white tank top. The tips of her damp hair touch the tank top just above her breasts, turning the fabric translucent.

As if she has felt my stare, she looks up, meeting my eyes. I feel paralyzed. Paralyzed by anger, and need and some other emotion I cannot face.

She opens the window, and holds out her hand to me, as if to help me in. I almost laugh at the idea of this frail human helping me into the room as if I would fall, but stop at the memory of when I actually almost did. I ignore her and move into the room as if I own it. It is time for Sookie to learn that though I have been letting her set the tone, I will not be disrespected. I will not be mislead, or lied to or fooled.

We both want control, and the nights of me freely handing it over to her are numbered. Her face sets with determination, and I prepare for a verbal battle.

"I'm sorry" she says.

I can only look surprised.

She is utterly unpredictable.

Sookie POV

He sits outside my window for Lord knows how long before I look up. I've been sitting here with a paper back for thirty minutes trying to read. I just keep reading the same sentence. I open the window and he strides past me to stand several feet in front of my door. The light from the hall casts a faint glow around him and I press my lips at how amazing he looks. Here we go…

"I'm sorry." He just stands there. I know they aren't magic words. I can't just say that and have everything work out. After what seems like an eternity, he says:

"What exactly are you apologizing for?"

"I should have told you what I was planning. It indirectly involved you too. It was dangerous, and I didn't think it through."

His brows rise. "But you left me a note. Surely that was sufficient." He practically sneers the word 'note,' and I fight to keep clam.

"All I can say is that I did what I thought was best at the time, and that I'm sorry for threatening your position with the Queen. I had to go to Hadley; but I should have told you in person, and not gone around you to Bill."

He bristles at the mention of Bill, and I hurry on. "I didn't mean to deceive you. I think, subconsciously I knew you would try to stop me, and I didn't want that. I didn't want to fight with you. I didn't want to face what it would mean for us… I don't know what we even are Eric. Do you?"

His face is blank, and I can tell he is thinking. "Do not try to shift this to a conversation about our relationship Sookie. What happens the next time you feel the need to run off? Do you have any idea what you have even done?"

Oh God, he looks furious. What can I say to that? Do I know what I've done? Is there something he knows that I don't? I don't think so. I feel my anger getting the better of me, and I blurt out: "Me run off? What was that earlier? You just flew off without a second thought!" I feel the sting again of watching him leave.

Suddenly he is right in front of me; I get the impression he was purposely keeping his distance until now, like a straining sling-shot finally let loose. "I was searching the property for threats; strategizing how to keep you alive. The Queen now finds you interesting; there is not a more dangerous position you could be in; it would be better to have angered her." He's practically humming with rage.

The anger ebbs out of me and I look away. "I'm sorry if I messed things up for you."

He grabs my shoulders. "You are not listening. I am fine. The Queen may soon find out that I have been coming to see you; that is of little consequence. She may chastise me, or assume I am trying to take you from her. Whatever the outcome the punishment will not be great. You, Sookie. You are in danger now. For that I cannot forgive you." He looks shocked.

He's mad that I was in danger.

It's probably not the best idea to tell him that I really do think that the Queen plans to leave me alone.

My heart swells.

He really cares about me. I smile and laugh. Gran was right.

Eric lets go of my shoulders, and I take the opportunity to jump him. If he were human he probably would have stumbled back with the force of it. I practically climb up his body until my arms are around his neck. I smatter kisses all over his face and neck, and start to tear at his shirt.

He sighs and wraps his arms around me. "You are utterly unpredictable."

All the anger and frustration of this evening is expelled as we strip each other's clothes off. It occurs to me as I fumble with the button on his dark denim jeans that we didn't really have the conversation about our relationship that I wanted, but all thoughts in that direction disappear as I pull the denim down to discover that he isn't wearing anything underneath.

He kicks off the pants and now stands naked in all his glory. I'm a little behind, still in my panties and tank top. He literally rips off my underwear and lifts me up firmly gripping my butt. I expect him to take us to the bed, but instead he pushes me up against the wall next to the doorway out into the hall. I have a bit of déjà vu to our 'first' meeting in his office. I won't be telling him to stop this time.

I gasp as he grasps my breasts through my thin tank top, which is now all I have on (I decided to strategically go sans bra). He holds me against the wall with the rest of his body as he lifts my left breast slightly and brings his mouth down to suck my nipple into his mouth through the shirt. He jabs at me relentlessly with his tongue, alternating between the left and the right. I can't help but groan as little shock-waves of pleasure ripple through me; my mind thinks of the other places his tongue could be, thrusting in and out.

Oh sweet Lord.

He plays with my nipples through the shirt until I'm practically crying. Finally he pulls back, but only to gather the excess material of the shirt at my back, pulling it taught so that the fabric is stretched to its limit over my chest. The cotton that an hour ago felt soft against my skin is now feels rough as it scrapes against my abused flesh.

All the stimulation on such a small area has me begging for him to move somewhere else. My hands scramble over him; desperate to provide him some kind of stimulation in turn.

"Please" I choke out.

"Hmm, please what?" he asks, as he nuzzles my collar bone. I'm sure I'd see him smirking if I could focus on his face.

I grab his head, pulling at his hair, dragging his mouth to mine. I have never felt like this; even when I was with Eric before. I have never wanted him so much. I practically gnaw at his mouth, releasing my pent up frustration. I thrust my tongue violently in his mouth, showing him what I want.

I pull back and his eyes are sparkling. "Need you" I manage to mutter as I turn to his neck and bite down on his earlobe. I'm straddling him now, holding on to him with all the strength I have in my legs.

He lets his hand play over my stomach. "Where do you need me?"

I growl now. A girl can only take so much. I take his hand and shift it lower, holding it firmly between my spread legs. I cry out in sharp relief as finally a part of him enters me. A single strong finger glides in while rubbing my clitoris. I grind down, determined to take all of him I can get. I'm shocked as I feel slight pain break through my haze of pleasure. Eric adds a second finger the pain increases. That's right… my body has been returned to its virginal state.

I look down and there is a small amount of blood. Eric looks too, and we watch as his fingers slowly thrust in and out of me. My legs are trembling now, and I can feel my grip on his neck loosening. He removes his fingers, and carefully carries me over to the bed. He spreads himself on top of me and his body covers mine; he looks intently into my eyes.

"I am the first to have you, my lover?"

Oh God, what a question. Now is not the time for a Timeline A/Timeline B discussion, but I don't want to lie (would it be lying to say yes… or no?), so I just kiss him. I know I should tell him. I will tell him… later. He moves down, lightly licking my tender nipples, down my stomach, finally reaching his goal.

He laps at me for a while; somehow I feel like I should be grossed out that he's tasting blood down there, but all I can seem to think now is pleasegodfuckmetakemepleasepleaseplease.

I can't take it anymore. I grab his shoulder and pull him back up, reaching down and grasping him. He hisses slightly as I run my fingers over him, stroking him toward me. I rub his length against my outer folds, coating him in the ridiculous amount of wetness that has accumulated between my thighs. I stroke him once, hard, and place him at my entrance.

"Now" I breath.

His fangs are fully down, and he's ready to stop playing. His hand joins mine and we both guide him into me slowly. It hurts again, but not in a way that would ever make me want to stop. More like pressure, a new pressure this body has never felt.

My heat has soaked into him and he no longer feels cool to the touch. When he's all the way in, he stops and looks at me. I arch my back, squeeze my internal muscles and smile up at him to let him know I'm okay. With a growl he starts thrusting into me, and I lose myself in the pleasure of it. His mouth moves up to my throat, but he just keeps his lips pressed to my pulse point. I realize that he must be waiting for permission.

I tilt my head to the side, and pull his face back so he can see me. I run one hand into his hair at the base of his skull, and let the other trail the other down his back.

"Take me" I say as I tilt my head farther, exposing my entire neck. His face reveals too many emotions, and I'm almost relieved when he looks away to bend down to bite. He slams back into me just as his fangs sink in. Explosions go off behind my eyes and I'm coming.

He only takes about how much I would give in a blood bank, but the suddenness of it makes me light-headed. He continues, shifting angles so he rubs up just right there with every pass. I can feel sweat building on every part of me, and a second orgasm builds at the base of my spine. It hits me suddenly, and without thinking I bite down on the juncture between his neck and shoulder.

A mouthful of his blood flows into my mouth and I welcome it. He is only seconds behind, shouting my name as I take his blood into me.

Eric POV

Between Sookie's fae blood, and her natural talents, I have just had the best sex of my entire existence. I shake my head at the improbability of it all. I have had thousands of women. Hell, I have probably had thousands of virgins. She… how is she? I do not have words.

I pull her closer. After mumbling "That was amazing." She essentially passed out.

I slowly rip the fabric of the tiny shirt she'd been wearing down the middle. Easing it off of her form. Suddenly tonight's earlier events seem insignificant. She is mine.

She has finally taken my blood.

Willingly taken my blood.

I sense that the dawn is coming. I must talk to her about creating a resting place for me here. I lift her and place her under the covers, write her a quick note and place it on her bed stand.

The flight back to Shreveport seems to take no time, and I make it back to my resting place before the first rays of sun appear over the horizon.

I welcome dreams of Sookie this day.

My eyes shoot open. It is sunset. It is sunset, and I have dreamed. I have dreamed of things that seem impossible. I have seen Sookie not as she is now.

I remember.

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So, yes, huge cliff. I can only defend myself by saying that this chapter has been what we've all be waiting for, right? (And my longest to date to boot!). Hope the ESN (aka smut, haha) was alright; I will try to post again soon…