A/N: This is a story that has been bouncing around in my head for a few months and I only recently decided to sit down and write it. I am not expecting anyone to read this and am writing it more for myself. I don't write in this fandom, so don't expect the characters to be completely in character. I am still writing my other story The Dark Lord's Playbook so don't worry I haven't given it up! The first few chapters are shorter than what I normally write because I am still getting a feel for how the story will come together and the characters.

I am ageing Godric up because it's kinda creepy keeping him as a 16-year-old. And yes the endgame is the three of them together.

Obviously, I don't own True Blood or the Southern Vampire Mysteries. Anyway, I hope anyone who reads this finds it somewhat enjoyable. It does have some triggering scenes of past abuse so be warned. No judgement please as people heal in their own way.

BON TEMPS CALLING

I groaned and clutched my head- what the hell happened?

My memory of last night feels fuzzy, and I feel nauseous, maybe I drunk more than I meant too? That bottle of cheap white wine did taste a bit sketchy. I try to peel my eyelids open, but they feel like they weigh as much as Pam's pastel pink minivan.

I try again and shift my body on the couch; however, I didn't take into account that it is smooth leather and I slide right off on to the floor narrowly missing the corner of the coffee table.

I blink desperately trying to keep my eyes open. I look around, and it is still dark, so where is Mason? I stand up on wobbly legs and tentatively walk into the kitchen where everything is neatly washed up and sitting on the dish drainer. I frown. Weird, but ok. I feel uneasy- but I don't know if it is just because of the headache that feels like razor blades are slicing into the back of my skull or something else.

The glowing numbers on the stove flashed violently in green that it is just after 2 am. The apartment is quiet, so maybe he went out since I passed out on his couch. It's not the first time he has left me to snooze. He trusts me, and I believe him enough that he wouldn't drain me dry in my sleep.

I search around for my handbag, locate it in the exact spot that I always put it in, slip my shoes back on, grab my leather jacket off the coat rack by the door and lock up. I enter the hallway, and the hair on the back of my neck stands up. Now that I know that vampires exist, I am warier than ever going out at night- especially since I am a police officer- a detective- for the Shreveport PD.

The lights of the hallway momentarily blind me as I pull the door shut and hear the deadbolt engage. I bump into someone, but they keep walking. God, some people are so rude! With the mood I'm in, I am almost inclined to give him a piece of my mind. I scowl as I hit the button to open the elevator a little too aggressively.

The doors open and there is a young couple practically devouring each other against the back wall. I roll my eyes and bite my tongue; they better not get too frisky; otherwise, I will caution them for public indecency. Ugh, I sound like a jaded buzz kill, and I'm only 24 years old.

They don't stop, and neither do the lewd noises coming from them- too wrapped up in each other to notice. I sigh, wondering if I'll ever have a relationship like that again. I don't trust easily, and I came to Louisiana for a change. My sole confidant circle consists of Sookie, Adele, Mason and reluctantly Eric. I know whatever I tell him it will be held close to the chest. Getting him to talk is difficult enough as it is. I think my chances of seeing pigs fly are more likely. But once someone saves your life, you open up a little. Only Sookie and Adele know the reason I am here.

The doors open and the addictive smell of roasted coffee beans permeates the lift, and I take in a deep breath. Ahh, my first love. I step out now ignoring the humping couple and let my excited olfactory receptors take me towards the mouth-watering smell.

There's a coffee shop on the bottom level of the apartment building that is open 24 hours; the temptation of a healthy shot of caffeine is too strong to ignore. If I could only hook up an IV to do a direct injection, I would.

It is surprisingly busy for 2 am. Still, I suppose the selection of TruBloods, Royalty Blend- and coffee (can't forget that), attracts humans and vampires, who want a quiet establishment to mix without the ear-bleeding music vibrating every molecule in your body.

I join the queue and watch some of the vampire staff zip around bussing tables and making coffee at lightning speed. I wonder if they ever burn themselves doing that? My head starts to thump painfully, and I massage my temples, trying to relieve the discomfort even only for temporary relief. I don't think I have any Advil in my handbag.

"Next", I look up, and I am already second from the front- damn I must have been functioning on autopilot.

"Morning, what can I get for you?", the server was waaaay too perky for this time of the morning. I wanted to strangle her...at least until she handed me my drug of choice.

"A double shot mocha latte please", I smiled or attempted one- I probably looked like a lady either about to be committed or stumbling back into the gutter. Her resultant smile faltered...so crazy bitch it is.

"Name, Miss?"

"Whitney", she waved me on like she couldn't get me to move from her register fast enough.

I stepped to the side and loitered with the other people grouping were our drinks will be dispensed. I looked around, feeling uncomfortable. The lights in the coffee shop were bright, like three feet from the Sun bright. Dimming them would evoke a different atmosphere for the shop- but right now I just wanted my coffee and to drive the whole 40 minutes to home on a caffeine high then slump into bed.

"Mark"

"Reynold"

"Misty"

"Whitney" Oh thank God. The elixir of life - is it sad that it's the reason I can get out of bed in the morning?

The street was relatively empty, and the cool breeze whipped about my face gently. I stopped next to one of the outside tables, so I could put my cup down and slip on my jacket. My handbag went across my body, and I dug my keys out ready. Walking into deserted parking lots always had me on alert as you could never be too careful being a single woman.

I made it to my Mini Cooper in British racing green- my parent's old car before they moved to Boca- and quickly getting in and locking all the doors before turning the engine on.

Soon I was taking the exit onto the 71 for the long drive home, and seeing that sign that first greeted me when I crossed state lines from Colorado almost two years ago.

"Welcome to Bon Temps- Catfish Capitol of the South"

I vow to make it up to Mason tomorrow since I was a horrible house guest- one that came to drink mostly, and eat what little food they kept for me, and then pass out on the couch rudely. Mason is a vampire, one of the oldest in the Shreveport area. We met through work; I needed help since I am not supernatural. He volunteered, and that's also how I met Eric for the first time, stuffing my face full of pancake at a diner. I had had a craving for them all-day and needed a bit of a pick me up after a shit day at work.

Mmmm, maybe I'll go to Merlotte's in the morning and try to convince Lafayette to make them for me with that sweet Canadian maple syrup I convinced Sam to change too.

Anyway, Mason and I hit it off, platonically of course and we have dinner every week.

I pull up in the driveway of my double-wide, my car clock tells me it's nearly 3 am. Thank God tomorrow is Saturday. I look around, and the sensor light floods the front yard. I don't want any surprises. The Cork's front yard- Elias and Hattie, partially lights up as well, which reveals Hattie's extensive lawn ornaments collection which comprises mostly of Flamingos. Now and then she will sneak a few into my front patch- because it makes it more homely and not sad and depressin'. I kept one or two to keep her off my back, but I know she will not stop at that singular digit amount. The woman is a menace- a lovely, kind, elderly lady- but still a menace!

I walk to the front door, wishing I had purchased another coffee even though I know it would be a bad idea. I flick all the lights on and lock the front door, then kick off my boots. Sometimes I wish I could have an animal, but I am not home consistently enough, and that wouldn't be fair to them. I felt myself falling into a hole of self-pity and loneliness- see this is why you shouldn't drink alcohol Whit! Did he break me down so much that I have no self-worth? Or esteem?

I felt like crying. I sucked in a shaky breath clawing desperately at the notion that I could stop this upswell of heartache. Things will get better they had too. I escaped. I escaped, and I repeated that mantra as I fell into a restless sleep.