2 Months Later

"What the fuck Sam! I sent you there to protect her, not hire her on for slave labor! Make it stop…. I don't give a flying fuck how proud she is, she should not, and will not be working in her condition, especially in your shitty bar! What do I want you to do? I want you to fire her! … She'll find another job? Ger her fired from that one then! It's a small town, how hard could it be? I don't care how or what you do, but make her unhireable! Tell the whole town she's a whore, I don't care! Make it so her only option is to sit around all day and kick up her feet; and if I so much as hear even a whisper that she's doing something even as little as picking dirty laundry off the floor, then your only option will be to run away, far, far away."

Eric finished shouting into his phone and then snapped it shut before turning around and throwing to at the wall in rage. He strode to the door, threw it open and yelled out to his assistant, "Bobby, get me a new fucking phone!"

He slammed the door shut and began pacing the length of the room, clutching and tearing at his hair in anger and frustration.

He stopped and took a look around. He wasn't staying at the Waldorf, even though he was in New York, he refused to step in that place until Sookie was back by his side, but still, his abode was just as nice. His surroundings in his hotel room were as lavish as ever, but without Sookie there with him, everything felt bare.

Her closet was empty, and her side of the bed was cold, and it drove him crazy!

He knew where she was of course, since the day she had left their suite; he had had men following her, across the US, until she finally settled in England in a little cottage.

It took everything he had not to go after her, and he had to remind himself for what felt like the millionth time that the separation was for Sookie's protection.

She was everything to him, and when he found out she was pregnant, he knew that she couldn't stay in his dangerous world any longer. He knew she would never willingly leave his side, so he did what he had to do, and kicked her out.

However, she had never truly escaped his presence. From the moment she had left their hotel room, he had had men who owed him favors across the globe following her, and guarding her with their lives.

Eventually she had moved to a tiny town in England that they had visited once together, and it was so small, that he decided it was unnecessary for her to have hordes of guards, and it was also impossible to place them in the town and make them look inconspicuous.

So he sent Sam Merlotte, a 'friend' who owed him a very big favor, to buy the local tavern and befriend Sookie, and thus watch over her 24/7.

So busy was he in his musings that he didn't hear the intruder in his room until he heard the click of a high heel on the tile floor. He immediately turned and whipped his gun from his waistband and aimed it at the unwelcome visitor.

When he saw who it was, he cursed and put the weapon back in his waistband. "By all means Pam, just walk right on in, don't announce yourself or anything," He said dryly, padding over to the liquor bar and pouring himself a healthy amount of gin. He raised an eyebrow at his guest, and she shook her head, so he capped the bottle, and then threw himself into an armchair across the room so he could keep an eye on her.

"I didn't expect for you to be startled. You must be losing your touch Northman." He snorted at that, and took a swig from his glass, and she smirked at his reaction before continuing. "Of course I've heard that's not the only thing you've lost recently." He immediately straightened up with a snarl, slamming his glass down on the table next to him, and preparing to rise, but she held up her hands in surrender. "Down boy," She said sweetly. "I didn't mean to offend, just merely sought to clarify facts. Cleary, I was right. Anyways, you summoned, I'm here. Now what do you want? I have a gorgeous girl named Theresa waiting for me back in the Maldives, and the longer I'm with you, is the longer I'm not… with her."

He raised his eyebrows in amusement. He forgot how amusing Pam could be, when she wasn't annoying the living shit out of him of course. As an accomplice she was also invaluable, with a deadly combination of being both gorgeous and lethal. She wasn't the perfect replacement for Sookie, but she would do. It also helped that she was in semi-retirement, and thus wasn't seen often, and she was as loyal as a dog, once you had earned it.

He counted himself lucky that he had earned her loyalty, and leaned forward to confide in her. "This is it Pam, the last job," He ignored her gaping at him and continued. "One last big heist, and then I'm getting out."

She still stared at him in shock, and once again he could feel himself getting annoyed. Finally she spluttered out, "But why?"

He drained his glass, and then set it gently back on the table. "I'm expecting a child now Pam, I can't be a criminal master mind anymore, my child is going to need a father. One who is not behind bars." When she still looked befuddled he elaborated. "I knew, and Sookie knew that I couldn't do this forever. I can't be jet setting around Europe lying, thieving and forging forever, I need to settle down and be responsible, and take care of my family."

Still she shook her head in disbelief. "You'll be bored within a year," She declared.

"We'll see," He replied, a mischievous smile playing on his face before going back into business mode. "Now, here's the plan…."

3 Months Later

"What do you mean there might be complications? What the hell kind of quack doctor do you have in that town anyways? Mallard? Literally, a quack? What the fuck Sam? You won't tell me what gender my child is, you don't report to me when I tell you to, and now you're telling me that my wife and child are having complications, you're lucky I don't fly over to that backwards ass country and kill you myself…. She's stressed you say? Well then fucking fix it! You're not over there to be an ornament you know! I sent you there to watch over her, protect her, and it sounds to me like you're doing a pretty shitty job of it! …. I understand that you can't just 'de-stress' someone, yes, I am well aware how delicate Sookie is… Now wait a damn second, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you were in love with my wife!"

Eric snorted in amusement, though his eyes flashed dangerously in anger. "Well good luck with that, really, let me know how living with my wife, and my child goes, good luck building a life with them." His voice dropped into a lower octave, and his eyes narrowed into slits. "But Sam, don't get too comfy over there, being my wife's loyal companion, because I'm not staying away forever, and when I go over there, you and I will see who she chooses, hmm?"

When he was done shouting into the phone and had hung up, Pam spoke from her position lounging on the bed sipping champagne, "So I am right to assume that all is going well over there?"

Eric ran his hands through his hair. "I just don't understand why it's so hard to follow orders!"

Pam chuckled lightly at his frustration and slinked off the bed. "Well, you know what they say, while the cat is away, the mice will play." He grunted his acknowledgement of her words, and she began to gently massage the tension in his shoulders away. "Will you relax? This time next month, it will all be over, and you can be at your wife's side, and Sam will be nothing more than a memory. Literally, if you had your way."

He nodded along with her words in satisfaction as images of himself shooting Sam danced along his brain. He could only hope that his wish would be fulfilled. "This time next month," He declared with determination.

1 Month Later

Sookie groaned as she waddled through her tiny little cottage, getting exasperated as she had to stop every so often to rest and catch her breath. She knew pregnancy would be a strain, but she never realized how bad it would actually be. At eight months of pregnancy, she was ready for it all to stop, and thanked her lucky stars that she only had one more month to go.

Morning sickness did not typically confine itself to the morning, she had developed a weird attraction to pickles that was not apparent prior to her being 'with child', and she was currently in one of those hostile mood swings due to the fact that she was pretty sure her shoes did not match. She was in no position to tell, as her stomach had grown so large she now no longer ate at the dinner table, just laid on the couch and balanced her plate on her belly.

Finally, after much pausing and resting, and much more cursing, she made it to her destination, and looked about it sighing with satisfaction. She had arrived to her sanctuary, her children's nursery. When she had found out she was pregnant with twins, she was flabbergasted to be sure, but quickly became excited at the idea of having twice the children to love.

It left her in quite the dilemma over the nursery however, as she did not want it to appear it to be too feminine, nor be the same token, too masculine. Finally she had gone with the norm and painted it a nice appealing shade of buttercup yellow, with yellow and white striped wallpaper lining the bottom.

If space had allowed it, she would have given them separate rooms, but as it were, the three of them in the little cottage, even as tiny as they were, would be a squeeze, sometimes literally. Plus, she had read in her baby books that it was not recommended to separate the twins, even having them sleeping in separate cribs was not recommended. So she bought a bigger crib, so as to fit the both of them, in pristine white, along with their changing table, armoire, and rocking chair. She could not afford much, but she did the best she could on a limited budget.

When she had first come to England she had gotten by financially through the generosity of Sam, the local tavern owner who graciously hired the strange pregnant foreigner. Now, however since he'd forced her to quit working at the bar, he now paid all of her bills for her despite her protests.

She entered the room, and picked up a hand crocheted pink blanket that was lovingly folded next to the matching blue blanket. Carefully and painstakingly stitched in each corners were the names she'd picked out for her beloved children.

Alexander and Kathleen

While she would have preferred for Eric to pick the names with her, she knew that was just a pipe dream, and she had to consider things realistically. She refused to give her twins cutesy matching alliterate names, and instead gave them names that held some meaning to her.

She chose Alexander because she thought it was a strong, bold name, and hoped that her little man would have all these attributes, just like his father. Kathleen was chosen because she thought it was one of the most beautiful names in the world, and because it was her Gran's middle name.

She gently set the blankets back down, and wiped a tear from her eye. It saddened her greatly that her children would never know the love of their father, just like she too would never have the love of Eric again, and, as the months between last seeing him stretched longer and longer, she began contemplating whether or not she ever had his love to begin with.

She straightened up, and held back her tears through her will alone. She had decided when Eric had first kicked her out, that she would be strong, that she would not fall to her knees and just give up, and she would not break that promise now.

With one last look around, she left the room and painstakingly made her way into the living room where she settled down to watch 'Are You Being Served?' her favorite British comedy. Midway through however, it was interrupted by the fast paced music that usually accompanied a news broadcast, and immediately, a solemn faced news reporter showed up on screen.

"Earlier today, in America," The man began, looking deeply into the camera for emphasis, "Another bank was robbed by the notorious con man, Eric Northman." Sookie gasped and sat up quickly, or as quickly as her condition would allow. "However, this bank job was not to go as planned for Northman. Shortly after taking over the bank, the SWAT team swarmed inside, and amidst the melee, Northman was shot." Sookie couldn't believe her ears, and immediately felt her eyes fill with tears.

"While Northman's identity has never truly been captured on film, or by witnesses before, accomplices that were captured confirmed that the shot man was indeed Northman. Despite the SWAT team's arrival, over 5 million dollars in funds was transferred electronically to an untraceable bank account. This heist, had it been successful, would have been Northman's 52nd, he is also well known across the world for…."

As the reporter rambled on and on about Eric and his stats, Sookie blocked him out, tears streaming down her face as shaking fingers dialed her phone. When she heard the click that signaled someone had picked up, she whispered, "Sam, will you come over? Something's happened."

After hearing his assurances that he would be over right away, she sagged down on the couch and began to weep hysterically, one hand placed protectively over her stomach.

A/N: Sorry for the wait, but I truly hoped you enjoyed the last chapter of Heist! Next will be the epilogue, which, if all goes according to plan, should be up sometime next week.

Later on tonight, or tomorrow, I will be posting the Support Stacie story won by the ever fabulous Bloodsucker815. It is entitled, 'Hey Batter, Batter' and it will be a smutty one shot. And that's it, PWP people! Just smut, just the way we like it! I would like to thank Bloodsucker815 for her generous donation, her understanding on my delays, her decision to basically give me free reign creatively wise, and her acceptance to me writing a smutty one shot. As you all heard with The Love Hotel, I am currently practicing my lemons, you all approved of the last one, so here's to hoping this next one meets all of your gracious plenty standards!

Thanks for reading!