Few references here:

The Park is a real place in Chelsea. It's really lovely and fun. The site is theparknyc(dot)com. Check it out.

A Louisiana Lullaby is a drink from… you got it! Louisiana. It's Dubonnet Rouge, Grand Marnier, and Dark Rum.

By the way, at this point I think this story will be all Sam POV. That being said, I'm not 100% sure about that, so I'll keep putting his name there in case I switch it up.

Pixie is my punctuation goddess.

Other than that: None of it's mine except a twisted fantasy consisting of Pam slapping Sam's ass.

June, 1999

Sam POV

(11 years earlier)

I met Sookie in the summer of '99.

It was June and I was at bat. Bahaar had a curve ball that could knock you off your ass. We were playing against the Agra team that day - a popular Pakistani restaurant on the East side. It was the playoffs; the winner would be up against Izumi, the Japanese place in Soho that had claimed the championship three years in a row. I wanted that title real bad.

Bahaar let the ball fly, a perfect curve. I swung my bat, hearing a satisfying crack! I didn't even think and started running. That was my thing, I ran. I was faster than damn near anyone in the league and I had Bill to thank for that. That Dalmatian could run for hours …. As I passed first I could see the outfielders scrambling. I dashed for second, rounded third, and I then I saw her sitting on the bleachers. Oh man, that first glimpse. Miracle I kept breathing, let alone running.

I was moving fast, but I could see blonde, curves, and killer legs. I had no idea what was happening with the game at that point. All I wanted to do was slide home and find the blonde again. I was safe … at least in the game. I couldn't focus on much else except the blonde though. She sat there enjoying the game alone. She knew what was going on too! She'd whoop and holler at the right times and yell at the ump when he made a bad call. Of course that wasn't really poor Mr. Jackson's fault - he was at least 10 years too old to be ump anymore. No one had the heart to tell him though.

Bill barked and ran in circles when we won; he was our unofficial mascot. Mostly, I think he just wanted to run and catch the balls with us, but even I had to admit he looked cute in the blue Viking T-shirt's that Pam ordered for the team. I let Bill off the leash to jump and cheer with the rest of the team, knowing full well that none of my guys would let him get away - they all loved that dog like it was their own.

I turned toward the bleachers to see the blonde walking away. Aww hell no that wasn't happening! Sweaty and dusty, I ran in her direction. I couldn't let her go without trying to get a name and number. Hopefully she was single. I started jogging toward her when out of the corner of my eye, something black, white, and blue ran past me. In slow motion, I saw Bill, tongue hanging out of the side of his mouth like a damn fool, run right into the back of the blonde's legs. The blonde, completely caught off guard, buckled and started falling forward. I don't know how I made it time to break her fall, but somehow I grabbed her from behind, pressed her to me, and spun us so that she fell on me, instead of hitting the concrete path.

"Ooof!" I cried out as we slammed into the ground.

"Oh …." but the rest was cut off by Bill, who was running around us in manic circles, jumping and barking like it was some damn game. Crazy ass dog.

"BILL!" I shouted as loudly as I could, "TERRY, NOW!" Daft fucking dog wasn't even aware he was in trouble. He just ran off toward Terry, happy as a lark, tail wagging.

I opened my eyes, half excited, half terrified of the reaction the blonde on top of me would have.

"Jesus Sheppard of Judea!" Blondie said and immediately looked shocked at her own words and tried to move her hand, I assumed to cover her mouth, but my arms were wrapped around her in a death grip.

I loosened my arms gingerly. There was an almost comical moment of fumbling around as we tried to get up without rubbing things against other things. Finally, she was upright and I was still flat on the ground – I didn't think I had hurt myself, but jumping up didn't seem like a great idea. A small, manicured hand came into view.

"Need a hand?" said a sweet southern accent. Thought it may have been Louisiana.

I sat up slowly, took her hand, and stood up. I just couldn't let go of her hand yet though. She chuckled.

"You okay?"

"Hmmm …."

"Think I can have my hand back? Promise I won't run away."

"Promise?"

"Ya, promise."

I let go of her hand, and mercifully, she stayed put.

"Listen, I'm sorry about Bill, he's …."

"A dog. No harm done thanks to your fancy foot work. But how you doin'? I'm not exactly light as a feather."

"I'm just fine ma'am thanks." Huh, I hadn't called anyone ma'am for years, not since Eric told me if I wanted the job, I'd have to get rid of the Texan accent.

"Texas?"

"Yes ma'am … Louisiana?"

"Yup, south of Shreveport."

"I'm Sam by the way," I offered my hand again.

"Sookie Stackhouse," she accepted the shake. "You're doing it again Sam."

"Huh?"

"My hand?"

"Oh hell, sorry."

"It's okay; it's nice to meet you too," a brilliant smile crossed her cherry lips.

I dropped her hand and decided it was now or never. "So, seeing as how my dog damn near killed you, I think it's only fair that I buy you a drink."

"Tell you what, make that an iced tea and you got a deal."

"Iced tea … Southern girl through and through huh?"

"Well Mr. Sam …."

"… Merlotte."

"Well Mr. Sam Merlotte from Texas, I'll bet you my gramndmama's creamed corn recipe there's a bottle of your mama's BBQ sauce in your kitchen right now."

I busted out laughing. There sure as hell was a bottle of my Mama's sauce in the kitchen. She sent me one every month without fail.

"Caught me red handed. When and where can I pick you up?"

"About the only place I know here yet is my friend's place where I'm staying, and Central Park of course."

I got her friend's address and told her to be ready at seven. I collected my stuff, including Bill who was definitely not getting a treat later. When I got home, I showered and got ready. Normally, I would have put on a pair of loafers or something with my jeans and black button down, but instead, I slipped on my boots. Something told me Sookie wouldn't mind. I was at her friend's apartment building just a few minutes early and when Sookie walked out the front door I was a grinning fool.

She was wearing a black sundress with red cherries over it, and a pair of matching red heels. I don't need to tell you she looked good enough to eat. Her blond hair was wavy and 'round her shoulders, her blue eyes were sparkling. She had soft hips and not a single bone protruded from her body. The women of New York had nothing on Sookie.

"You look amazing."

"Nice boots." I think that may have been the very moment I fell for her.

I took her hand and hailed a cab. A few moments later, we got out and she laughed. I had sort of hoped she would, too. It popped into my mind when she said the only places she knew in the city were her friend's apartment and Central Park. The Park was a fun restaurant that had trees growing throughout it, hence the name. There was also a great terrace bar upstairs that looked onto the downtown skyline. Something told me she might like it.

"The Park?"

"Ya, thought you might get a kick out of it. So I know I promised you iced tea, but how about some food with it?"

"I never turn down a meal," hell, she was my kind of girl.

We both ordered steak, we both had iced tea, and in true girly fashion, she didn't order desert but instead attacked mine. I didn't care though. Watching Sookie eat chocolate cake was something I'll never forget. With every bite she closed her eyes, savoring the taste. I even heard a moan once or twice. It was the sweetest torture.

We went upstairs after dinner. The night was warm but breezy. She loved the terrace. You could see to the water and all around Chelsea from up there. There were lanterns illuminating the space and a soft constant thumping coming from the speakers. She glowed in the light. I got myself a beer and a diet coke with a cherry in it for Sookie. That was just the cutest and sexiest damn thing I ever did hear a girl order.

We sat on a bench covered with pillows under the city skyline and talked for hours. She had left her home town of Bon Temps almost exactly a year after her Grandmother died and right after her brother's wedding. Her parents died when she was just seven in a car crash, and her grandmother had raised her and her brother Jason. But, she needed a change - there was nothing left for her in Bon Temps. Grandma gone, her brother starting a new chapter of his life. Her ex and one of her best friends who had been married for year had their first baby a few months before she left … I think she felt left out and kinda lonely.

She called up a friend she had made in New Orleans one summer. She thought maybe she'd go to there for a bit. Instead, she found out through her friend's father that Amelia had moved to New York. She got the number and when Amelia found out that Sookie was looking for something new, she'd offered her the second bedroom without thinking twice. So she had been in New York for exactly three weeks. She had no idea what to do with herself yet, but money was running out. She was gonna need a job soon.

I thought I just might be able to help there. She had waitressing experience and I knew enough people in the restaurant world to find her something, I was sure. She hugged me when I offered. Her soft body pressed up against mine. I didn't want to let go. When she cleared her throat I knew I had been holding on too long.

"Is this a chronic problem you have Sam? Not letting go of people?"

"No. It's just you."

"Oh," she said as she smiled and turned her head. I couldn't be sure, but I thought she may have been blushing.

It was well past midnight when I finally dropped her off. I would have stayed out with her all night, but I had to work a full shift at the bar and I needed at least some sleep. I gave Sookie the address to Viking Bar and told her to bring Amelia. Drinks would be on me.

Now normally, I would have gone in for a kiss, a full on kiss. But Sookie was a southern girl and I was liable to get a solid slap in the puss for that. So before she turned away to walk into the building, I leaned in and kissed her cheek. It was risky, I'll admit. But when all I got was a smile, a little wave goodbye, and a subtle little ass wiggle as she walked up the steps to the door of the building, I knew I was safe.

I was anxious all night. I had no idea if she would show up or not. Pam, the manager, picked up on it immediately.

"Jesus Sam, what the hell's wrong with you?"

A bottle of gin slipped through my fingers, crashing to the mats under my feet.

"Aww Christ on crutches."

"Oh now I KNOW something's up. You never let your accent slip."

"Pam, what's the likelihood of you dropping this?"

"About as likely as me cleaning that mess up. Hey Hector! HECTOR! Where the hell is that guy? HEEEECTORRR! You better spill it Sam, we open in twenty and I'll make your night a living hell if I don't find out." Hector showed up with a bucket and a mop.

As we shuffled away to let Hector clean up (he was our best outfielder by the way), I resigned myself to telling Pam everything. She would have made my night miserable if I hadn't. The last time I tried to keep something from her she palmed all my tips and wouldn't give them back until I promised to call her "Your Highness" for a week. Sobered me to the force that is Pam real quick.

When I finished with everything she snorted.

"Oh please, so some pretty little southern belle has you all tied in knots? Get over it and quick … you make more tips the more single you seem, sweet cheeks."

A slap on the ass and she was off. I got used to that a long time ago. Pam was actually gay but she liked my ass – a lot. I was annoyed for exactly two minutes the first time it happened, then I realized that even though she was with hot women every night, my ass was the one she liked to slap - kinda puffed up the ego in a totally twisted way.

It was about two hours into the night, at about 10:30pm when I saw a flash of blonde waves. I was fixing a whiskey sour for some guy when I heard "Hey Bartender, know how to make a Louisiana Lullaby? My friend and I are real thirsty!"

I turned to see blonde locks, blue eyes, and yellow frills. She was wearing some kind of wrap shirt that had yellow frilly stuff down the front. I could see a hint of cleavage and good lord it was delectable. The cute brunette must have been her friend Amelia.

"No Dubonnet Rouge cher, but I have a diet coke and maraschino with your name on it," putting on my best Cajun accent, which was pretty awful actually.

Sookie leaned over the counter and kissed me on the cheek. Every man in that room had to be jealous. I fixed Sookie's diet with cherry and a Tequila Sunrise for Amelia. Amelia reached into her purse, but I stopped her hand. "On the house, ladies." I wanted to chat, but it was a Saturday night and Viking Bar was a popular joint for the rich, trendy, and pretentious.

I was only able to get a few words in here or there before they left about an hour and a half later. Before she left though, I slipped her my number on the back of a Viking Bar card. Ball was in her court – I only hoped she'd use it.

While we closing up the bar for the night, Pam strolled over to me.

"Was that Scarlet in the yellow frills?"

"Scarlet?"

"O'Hara … you know, your southern belle?"

"Sookie, ya that was her."

"She's something Sam. Keep her away from Eric, he'll eat her alive."

A/N

Ok, so here's the real test. You want more? The only way I know if you do is to press that lonely green button.

-Zhiv