A/N: I am really close to having chapter 4 done! I also have CTD 36 and 37 done and betaed, if you read it. Look for 36 Fridayish Only one more chapter plus an epilogue to go before it's complete! Eek! Ilovemysteries is a trooper. Much thanks to Leave Sookie Alone, too, for being one hell of an idea-bouncer and suggesterer. Or whatever.

Chapter 3

It was nearly two o'clock when Sookie finally woke up that afternoon. That was a little less than three and a half hours until sunset, according to the newspaper, which she'd read while she drank her coffee and ate a couple of pieces of toast. She called Walmart to make sure that they were open on New Year's Day, and then headed out after a very-much-needed shower.

She was surprised that she felt as good as she did, as stiff and achy and sore as she had been the night before. At the end of her driveway, she stuck out her tongue and looked at it in the rearview mirror, and there wasn't a mark on it.

She had read that vampire saliva contained anticoagulants so that the wounds from their bites wouldn't bleed too much, but her tongue wasn't just scabbed over. She remembered how wet and salty his cool mouth had been, and she wondered if he had given her some of his blood. She knew that people took V as some kind of party drug that made them high, but she hadn't felt like that after their kiss. At least not in any way that wasn't strictly because of it. She had also heard that it was a powerful aphrodisiac, and she could sort of attest to that, but she had been feeling that way well before he'd kissed her. But it certainly couldn't have helped.

She hadn't heard that vampire blood could heal wounds, but she supposed that it kind of made sense. It could sort of bring people back from the dead, after all. And vampires would want to keep that under wraps, or else they would be in even more danger from drainers.

She also felt kind of like everything had been turned up a notch. Her senses were a little heightened. She felt energized. A bit stronger. And kind of extra horny. She still didn't know if that was the blood or the kiss. Or just him.

There wasn't much traffic on the road, and she made it to the Walmart in Clarice in less than half an hour. She was hoping that she wouldn't see any people she knew inside.

She went to the liquor section first and found True Blood in large plastic bottles. She thought that those should be alright. It was the brand they'd stocked at the bar the one time that Sam had ordered it a few months after the Revelation. He hadn't bothered ordering it again after it had all expired, and the only vampire to come in since had had to settle for red wine, according to Arlene. And probably his first sunny day in a long time.

She put four bottles in her cart, hesitated, and added four more. She really couldn't afford that kind of wishful thinking, but hopefully they would at least exchange them for store credit if he was gone before he finished them. She would make sure to keep the receipt.

She went to the men's section next. She was looking at the t-shirts when she saw a woman with a toddler give her the evil eye. Sookie threw the black shirt she was holding into the cart, covering up the bottles, and moved to the shoe section instead.

She cringed at the prices. Thank goodness New Year's Eve was one of her biggest tip nights of the year. She found a pair of plain black sneakers that weren't too expensive or ugly in a thirteen, and hoped they would fit. His jeans had looked expensive, and he did too, somehow. She doubted that he wore this sort of thing at home, but it was what she could do.

She got him a package of athletic socks and then went over to the underwear. She reached for a three pack of briefs and then hesitated, remembering the way that the red fabric had stretched over the most gorgeous butt that she had ever seen. He'd had to take the blanket off to hold up the tarp, and hadn't put it back on again. She sighed. He just wasn't a Fruit of the Loom kind of guy. The store at least had a package of Calvin Kleins that she thought would hug… She didn't look at the price tag, threw them into the cart, and quickly walked back to the racks of shirts and pants. She hoped that Ms Judgmental was gone. Thankfully, she was.

Sookie grabbed a couple of pairs of jeans in the same size as the ones she'd thrown into the dryer on her way out the door, a pair of sweats, a couple more t-shirts, a plaid flannel, and a hoodie. She hoped that it would all do. She passed the underwear aisle again on the way back to the checkouts, and the undershirts were on the endcap. She threw in a package of black wife beaters, because yum.

The cashier gave her a long look as eight big bottles of blood travelled in slow motion down the conveyor belt. She held her head high, tried to ignore the vampire gangbang with herself as the main event in his head, and paid with a wad of ones and fives and the occasional ten that she'd received on her very last night at Merlotte's the night before. The sign would be up until Andy got around to changing it but, as of opening on January first, they were technically Caroline's Bar and Grill, after his mother. Sookie was so glad that he had decided not to go with Dandy Andy's.

Sookie loaded the bags into the cart and felt the creepy cashier's eyes all over her. His thoughts were even more dirty than before; now there were five vampires on her at once. He grinned. "Have a great night!"

She felt like slapping him, or at least telling him to go to hell, but she just stood up a little straighter and went back out to the car. She didn't notice the wanted man poster on the bulletin board in the entryway.

She thought about going to Home Depot for some lumber to make him somewhere more suitable to stay, but she really had no idea what to get. She also reminded herself that he was likely not staying for long, despite the two gallons of blood and new wardrobe she'd just spent a couple of hundred dollars on in the trunk. Closer to three.

She decided to say fuck it and spent a little more on a quarter pounder and a chocolate shake and some fries. She ate it in her car with the heat on, and then headed back to Bon Temps. There was anticipation coiling in her belly. It was almost sunset.

She was being an idiot. She would be calling Fangtasia when it got late enough for the vampires to actually show up, and then off he'd go back to wherever he'd come from. Why was she cooking up some kind of ridiculous fantasy where she and this sweet, vulnerable, gorgeous vampire would live happily ever after in their own secret bubble of sex-filled solitude?

Because she was lonely. Because his mind was silent, even when he'd kissed her. Because she wanted him. Because she thought that she could love him. Already. But she also knew what an awful idea it would be, even if it was feasible. Which it wasn't.

The coil of anticipation turned into a churning disappointment, but she headed back to Bon Temps, anyway. Surely she shouldn't call the vampire bar until at least nine. Maybe ten.

She was just loading the last of the bottles into the fridge when she heard him come into the kitchen. She had wondered what their dynamic would be like tonight, after their kiss, and she got her answer when he was standing a little too close behind her with his nose and mouth no more than an inch from the curve of her neck. His hair tickled her arm and she wondered if it was her imagination, or if she really had felt it brushing against her nipple through both her shirt and bra.

"I did not realize last night how good you smell."

She tried not to shiver, or let the stew of emotions show in her voice. "Yeah. I got half a pint of beer spilled on me, and I must have run out fifty orders of fried pickles."

There was a pause. "I don't understand."

She closed the fridge door, turned around, and leaned back against it. He stood back up straight. She tried not to notice how little material there was covering what looked to be a pretty big problem going on in his underwear. She cleared her throat and tried looking him in the forehead.

"I work at a bar. That's why I was on the road so late last night when I ran into you. I was on my way home."

"Why do you not have a man to take care of you?" He sounded more than a bit incredulous.

She stood up straight, too, and she had frown lines between her eyebrows. She lowered her gaze until she met his. She didn't look any lower. "I don't need a man to take care of me."

It was true. She didn't need a man to take care of her. She was doing ok on her own. But she was pissed off because she wanted one to, in a reciprocal kind of way. One in particular. And, goddammit, he was the only man who had ever even been an option.

He immediately softened. His apprehension seemed to have come back a little. "I just meant… I just meant that you deserve one."

She kept looking into his eyes for a moment and then dropped hers before bustling over to the kitchen table. "Here are your clothes. Your jeans are clean and folded up right here. I got you some more things, too, if you want to put something on. And there's synthetic blood in the fridge. I can heat some up for you, if you like."

"Yes, please."

Happy for some busywork. She shook and then opened a bottle and poured some into a mug and watched it spin around in the microwave. After it beeped, she pulled the cup out and handed it to him. She was disappointed and relieved that he hadn't taken the forty-seven seconds or so to put on his jeans.

He pushed the bags aside and sat at the table with the mug in front of him. She realized that she'd left her mug and plate next to the newspaper at her usual place that afternoon, so she took the dishes to the sink and washed them. She folded the newspaper up and set it on the island. She thought that she might like a fire in the fireplace later, and she could use the paper to get it started. Because it was cold out, not because it was romantic.

He took a sip of blood and didn't make a face, so she thought that it must have been ok. She wanted to ask him about something because this was the most awkward silence of her life, but there wasn't anything to ask. He wouldn't know the answer, unless maybe the question was, 'will you please rip off my clothes and take my virginity'. She was pretty sure that she knew what the answer to that one would be by the look in his eyes. And the state of his skivvies.

"Is the blood alright? I think that one is most popular."

"Yes. It is fine."

And the awkward silence stretched on. Sookie had to do something, so she got up and made herself a mug of hot chocolate. She even found a bag of mini marshmallows and sprinkled some on top. She moved the shopping bags onto the counter, sat across from him, and took a sip. She closed her eyes in pleasure. At least there was chocolate.

"That smells good. Sweet."

She smiled. "Yes. It's nice. Especially when it's so cold outside."

"You smell very sweet, too."

Well, there went that. The conversation had veered sharply back into the awkward zone. What was she supposed to say?

"Um. Thanks."

They drank in silence. Eric wasn't so bothered by the awkwardness. He didn't think it would do anything to push her away. She was fighting the inevitable, but he could feel that she was wavering. If anything, the quiet was pulling them together. The pressure would all end, just as soon as she gave in. And then she would be his. By the feel of things, it would happen very soon. Perhaps tonight.