AN: Another chapter so soon?! Whaaaat? lol. I was in the groove last night and wrote this one up, too, so I decided to post it since, yeah, it can easily look like Eric and Maria took a huge step back. This is a kind of "middle" chapter, just something where stuff mundanely happens. Normal, basically, but I just wanted you to know that things between Eric and Maria do even out very quickly, like, next chapter. Promise. Anyway, I hope you guys like it. Let me know what you think, and Enjoy!

Chapter 15

Maria lay in bed staring at the ceiling of the room she had at Eric's house. She'd been there for hours with her mind racing, struggling really, to sort through a thousand years of memories. She'd never touched someone so old before and been drowned in the past. When she touched Godric, it was intentional. He was strong enough to block out most of the noise, even though she still saw some of the "extra" bits. But with Northman… there was no barrier, no dam to keep everything back. She was flooded with his life within seconds.

If there was a soul on the planet she didn't want to know that intimately, it was Eric Northman.

There was so much information surging through her brain that she had trouble organizing it. The most recent information was jumbled with his strongest memories. The mundane, the things that happened during the day-to-day that meant nothing were wisps. She could easily ignore those, but anything that held emotion of any degree, things that mattered or were important, those were what fought to get to the foreground.

It did offer clarity, though. Maria saw the slaughter of his family, saw and felt the pain it left behind. That memory was tied to a recent one which meant it was right alongside the first. Maria finally saw what made Eric so anxious and worried before. He found his father's crown in Russell's collection. That was why he was suddenly so disoriented. She understood completely.

Along with the deep, unrivaled sense of revenge he felt, Maria also saw his time with Godric, and even Pam. She felt his love for them both, and relived Godric's death in a much more intense way than she had before.

The seeing others' past was bad enough, but Maria would give anything asked of her, literally anything, to not feel them, too. The emotional transfer was always painful, but coming from Northman, it nearly killed her. She actually bled. Never before had Maria been so effected that her nose bled.

She'd seen his human life, felt his joy in battle and his readiness to die. She felt him turn and the love for Godric. She felt centuries of both delight in bloodshed and frustration that his revenge hadn't been slated. It was everything, absolutely everything. She'd even seen (through his eyes) herself when he walked into the torture room, and up until the moment he touched her hand.

The look of betrayal she saw afterward actually broke her heart a little. He looked like a child whose favorite parent told them they were no longer loved. That was the best way she could think to describe it. It was so deep and profound. She wished she could take it back, for multiple reasons, but mostly because of that look.

Maria had seen it more than once on a number of faces. As a child, she didn't understand why, but as an adult she did. No one wanted their life laid bare, least of all to a little girl, or someone they barely knew. Everyone was entitled to their privacy, to have secrets they wanted to take to the grave, but Maria robbed them of the ability whether she meant to or not.

Surely, he'd have to know it wasn't intentional. She told him the first night she was out of her box that bad things happened when she touched people. She told him it was dangerous. Granted, specifics weren't given, but the warning was there.

The one good thing to be brought out of it (if there was any at all) was Maria now knew what Sookie was. The little blonde waitress was a fairy, a God damned, light-sucking, magic-using, nature-fucking fairy. Maria had hoped she'd never meet one. She'd hoped, foolishly it seemed, that they were all dead and gone. Clearly, she wasn't that lucky. It did explain the vampires' obsession with the blonde, though, and Maria's deep-seated, primal fear of her, too.

"Fucking fairies," Maria mumbled to herself.

A night and a day passed and Maria remained on her own. She didn't bother contacting either Pam or Eric. There'd be no point. She simply had to wait for Eric to speak to her again. Last time, it was when he needed something a week later. She was fine with that.

A knock on her door around ten AM woke her from a shallow sleep. Annoyed and confused, she rose to answer it. Maria wasn't in the mood to deal with solicitors, neighbors, or religious-types trying to push their God on her. She was religious, once. Did the term "ironic" encompass a woman who lost her faith in God, but was canonized as a Saint after she died? It seemed the perfect definition.

When she opened the front door, temporarily blinded by the eastern sun shining directly into her face, Maria was met with a middle-aged man in a suit holding a briefcase. She arched a brow at him.

"No thank you." She said, more than willing to slam the door in his face when he spoke.

"Miss Romanov,"

The door was inches from closing completely when he spoke her name, something that instantly caused her to pause. Slowly, Maria opened it once more and eyed him skeptically. No one, no one in Louisiana knew her name –that she knew of. At least, no one who knew where to find her and actually wanted to speak to her.

"Excuse me?" She asked.

He reached into his pocket and offered her his card. She took it apprehensively.

"My name is Andrew Morris. I'm Mr. Northman's attorney."

Her face twisted with even further confusion. "Well, he isn't here, and I don't know how you know my name, so…" She offered him the card once more, but he refused to take it.

"No, Miss Romanov," He said with a light smile. "Mr. Northman sent me. Now," he glanced at his watch. "We don't have much time. The paperwork will need to be filed soon, so if we can get on with this."

"Get on with what?" she was losing her patience. "What's going on?"

It was his turn to look confused, but he was over it faster than she was. Perhaps it was simply his constant dealing with Eric as his lawyer, or maybe it was simply his dealings with vampires in general. Whatever the reason, he recovered quickly.

"Mr. Northman sent me to help facilitate your home purchase."

Shock. That was the best way to describe it. She was shocked.

"I'm buying a house?"

"Yes, ma'am. May I?" He motioned towards the interior of the house and it was only then she seemed to realize she was still standing there with the door open.

Maria nodded and stepped aside, allowing him to enter. After she closed the door, she took him into the kitchen. There was no hesitation. Mr. Morris immediately opened his briefcase and offered her a pair of folders. Each one held a property –the pictures, simplistic floor plan printouts, and their stats.

"Now, these two owners are willing to forego escrow and sign over the property before the end of business today." He said.

"Well, that's great, but what's the rush? If I'm going to buy a house, I'd like to take some time to look at a few, first." She told him as though it should have been obvious. And then she glanced at the prices of the two properties and her heart sank. "And ones a bit cheaper."

While she wasn't lacking for finances, Maria wasn't exactly prepared to hand hundreds of thousands of dollars over for properties she didn't entirely want.

"No, ma'am." He said. "You won't have to pay for anything. Mr. Northman has taken care of that already. The home will be in your name, but he is covering the financial side of the transaction."

She felt a jolt of fear. Something was wrong, deeply, deeply wrong if Northman was offering to buy a house for her, especially less than twenty-four hours after what happened in Mississippi.

"Okay," She answered unsurely. Maria wasn't entirely sure what else to do and chose to simply play along. It was basically a free house.

She looked over the two files, both open and revealing the pictures of each house. One was a simple, single-family home. It was basic and she didn't like it. It was just too plain for her and she felt nothing looking at it.

The other, however, was much nicer. It was an old farmhouse that looked abandoned. It was a relatively large building, boxy with a thousand windows, and a large front porch. Perhaps it was the thick columns in front, the ones that made it look like a weak attempt at a plantation house, or maybe even the Widow's Walk above the porch that drew her to the house, she couldn't say. Whatever the reason, that was the house she liked.

"This one," She shoved it toward him and closed the file on the second.

Mr. Morris nodded and reached for the paperwork. "Now," He said as he did, "Just be aware, this property is being sold immediately which means as-is. There's no inspection, so if there are problems," He opened a new file filled with crisp white pages she was probably going to sign, "There's nothing we can do about it."

Maia grumbled to herself, but she understood. So long as ceilings weren't crumbling and floors hadn't buckled from leaks or mold, she could repair damages.

After a nod, Mr. Morris began his speech about what she was signing. Thankfully, he was willing to ignore that she had no photo ID to prove who she was, or any other identifying document. Apparently, money truly did buy everything, and Eric had much more of it than she thought.

Maria parked her stolen motorcycle and stood in front of her new house. It felt odd for more than a few reasons. Not only had she not owned property in quite some time, but she hadn't even bought it. Was it a gift? Or, the more likely, had Eric bought the house because he didn't want to see her anymore?

She leaned toward the latter.

The house looked haunted, but maybe that was why she liked it so much. Peeling beige paint hinted at the siding beneath. The shudders had the same weathered appearance and the windows were dirty. It sat on top of a sloping hill in the center of four acres. Maria had the suspicion that it was one of those old family plots of land that had somehow stayed mostly intact despite the development that surrounded it. And while the house was on a small hill, it was surrounded by trees. At least she had a little privacy.

With deed and keys in hand, Maria walked up the porch. The wood creaked beneath her heels.

The lock gave way easily and the door opened without a squeaking hinge, but the smell of stale air hit her like a fist to the face. Clearly, the house hadn't been opened in some time.

Standing in the foyer, Maria could see straight down a hall to the backdoor. It seemed far away, tucked to the side of the stairs that led up. To her immediate left was a living room or den, and to her immediate right was the same, just slightly different. Without furniture, she couldn't tell for certain. She walked to the left.

Large windows and wood floors, with peeling wallpaper, and aged wood molding met her. She arched a curious brow at it. The room was decently sized and had potential. To her right there was another doorway, so she walked through it and into what could only be described as a formal dining room. She was met with more of the same, though different colored wallpaper, and another doorway in front of her. It led to the kitchen.

The kitchen was old, with old appliances that she couldn't say worked, or not. A huge bay window rested above the farm sink and overlooked the back of the property. She turned to the right again, glanced down the hall that led directly to the front door, and walked through the breakfast nook. She walked through yet another doorway, though this one had an actual door. She assumed the room was an office of some kind, and continued into the final room downstairs. It was the one that was to the right of the foyer. The whole downstairs was a circle.

Next came the second floor, and Maria was sure to step carefully because she couldn't guarantee she wouldn't fall through. Once there, she was greeted once more with a long, narrow hall, at the end of which was another window, a window she guessed was above the backdoor.

None of the rooms upstairs were connected like the ones on the main floor, except the two that faced the front of the house, but they weren't connected in the typical sense. The foyer had a high ceiling, one that she expected reached the natural height of the house, but the Widow's Walk, the balcony outside that stretched the length of the front porch, had two double French doors on either end. As a result, both bedrooms one each side of the house were technically connected.

The downside though, beyond the layers of dust and cosmetic damage that needed to be repaired, and beyond the fact that electricity would take an unknown amount of time to turn on (for some reason) was the single bathroom. It was palatial, sure, and sported a claw foot tub, a large window that overlooked the backyard and the woods therein, but it was still just one and upstairs. A toilet downstairs would have been nice, but easily fixed when she renovated. And she would definitely renovate. She initially thought the door beneath the stairs led to a powder room, but it didn't. It led to a dank, unfinished, dirt-floor cellar.

Still, she liked it, probably more than she should, and it was all hers.

Maria had opened the doors to her new home a little after two in the afternoon, every window shortly after that, and spent the remaining sunlight cleaning every inch of it. Gathering supplies was a pain in the ass given she had no car, but a well-compensated cab driver was willing to offer aid. Even more wonderful was that the house had well-water. It ran without city interference, and she'd never have a bill, though the strong scent of sulfur told her the filtration needed to be repaired.

Cleaning slowed when Maria was forced to rely on the three candles she'd purchased alongside her cleaning supplies, but since she wasn't human, she managed. In the morning, she'd buy some lanterns along with the furniture she planned to get.

Around ten thirty, her phone beeped. She paid it passing attention since she was busy dumping another bucket of soiled mop water down the toilet, but when she was hands free and had the chance, she was shocked to see who it was from.

Viking: Come to Fangtasia.

That was it, three words without context. For a moment, no matter how brief, Maria thought about ignoring it, but the thought left her quickly. She knew Eric well now, definitely well enough to recognize that he wouldn't be asking her to meet him unless it was important. That combined with the purchase of the farmhouse simply reaffirmed the fact.

Dusting herself off, she made her way to Fangtasia.

When Maria arrived, she was surprised to see Mr. Morris leaving. The lawyer offered her a kind word in passing, but looked busy and in a hurry to leave. As she entered the club, she was met with the sound of arguing. Yvetta was quite angry as she stormed away and Pam seemed no better.

"You can be a cold-hearted bastard sometimes." She said as she walked off, too. She barely cast her eye in Maria's direction as she disappeared into the back.

Maria was less certain about her decision to answer Eric's text than she had been before. Tensions were high and she had arrived in the middle of something. A bit apprehensively, she still approached the stoic vampire.

Eric was sat at a table with an official-looking document in front of him. His eyes were focused on the distance and he seemed to be in his thoughts. She almost didn't want to break him out of them. It didn't matter. He spoke when she was perhaps five yards from him.

"I need you to take Pam to your house." He said in a somber tone. "Invite her inside. She needs to be kept safe."

"Okay," She muttered unsurely. "What's happening?"

At first, he didn't reply, which she fully expected. Maria didn't really think he'd tell her, but she asked out of nervous habit. She was surprised to hear him answer, however.

"I killed Talbot." He told her plainly. Maria felt a jolt of shock. "Russell Edgington is unstable now. He'll stop at nothing to hurt me and Pam is important."

Maria fought the urge to tell him that she was well-aware of how important Pam was to him now, but she felt obligated to say something else.

"I'm sorry."

Eric turned his head just a bit to the side, enough she could see him in profile, but he didn't speak. He merely acknowledged that he heard her. Maria felt compelled to continue during the rare moment of silence on his part.

"I didn't mean for it to happen." She continued while she could. "That's why I wear the gloves. You have no idea what it's like. I can never touch people without-"

"It's fine." He interrupted her sharply, but his tone remained level. Eric turned his head to face forward once more. "Take Pam to your house."

Maria nodded. Her mind raced as she turned and stepped towards the door that led to the back, but paused half way there.

"I…" She found the words sticking in her throat because she couldn't believe what she was about to say. It was beyond insanity as far as she was concerned, and yet, knowing everything she now knew, she felt obligated. "I can return the favor."

She saw him flinch slightly before shifting in his seat to face her completely for the first time since she'd arrived. Confusion twisted his features.

"I…" Again, she hesitated. Maria began to wring her hands. "I can show you everything… about me." His confusion vanished in an instant, replaced once more by his blank expression and in it, Maria was immediately hit with regret. She tried to cover herself. "Never mind." She said quickly. "I'll get Pam."

And with that, she all but ran into the back just to remove herself from the situation she'd created. Maria kicked herself immediately for the stupidity of it. She'd only ever done it twice before, and that was with her own family. Yet, a part of her felt as though she had to offer him the chance, as though it would somehow make them even. She prayed he never took her up on the offer because, like everyone else, there were a thousand things she didn't want anyone else to know about her.

Shaking her head to herself, Maria opened the door to Eric's office where she heard Pam pacing. The blonde instantly stopped and shot her an angry scowl.

"What?" She snapped.

"Uh," Maria was a little slow to answer, not from shock as to her attitude, though. She still couldn't believe how stupid she'd been only a second prior when speaking to Northman. "Eric wants me to take you to my house so I can invite you in."

Pam arched a perfectly sculpted brow while Maria swam in shock. She'd never called Eric by his first name before, at least not out loud.

"Fine," Pam's short and angry word brought Maria back into the moment. "Let's go. I need to get the hell outta here, anyway."

And with that, the towering blonde walked by her and out of the club. Maria followed, casting Eric a sideways glance in the process. He still hadn't moved.

Pam hadn't removed her scowl since she got out of her car. It only grew worse the moment they stepped through the door and into the house itself. Maria thought the fact that it was dark only helped her. It saved her from even more of Pam's vitriol.

"Why in the hell did you buy this shithole?" She asked bluntly.

"I didn't." Maria replied. "Northman did." She consciously refused to call him Eric out loud again. "And I'm beginning to think it was so I can be used as a safe house."

"Hm," She approached Maria. Her heels clacking against the hardwood floors echoed in the expansive house. "You're outta your goddamn mind if you think I'm gonna be sleepin' on your floor."

Maria rolled her eyes. "Unless you plan to sleep here tonight, don't worry about it. Okay?"

"Fine," she all but snapped. "You should do somethin' about the smell, too."

Maria frowned, but said nothing else as Pam stepped around her and left. As she watched the always-fabulous vampire leave, Maria felt a question rise in her throat, but she bit it back successfully. She didn't need to know why Eric was putting his affairs in order. She could guess, and she knew she was right. There was no point in asking Pam.

With nothing else to do, Maria locked up the house, got on her bike again, and drove back to Eric's. She had no intentions of sleeping on her floor, either.