A/N: I was completely stuck on my paper for my sociology class so I decided to dabble a bit on this story last night. And this afternoon. It's all thats in my head. I really wish I could just hand this in instead, it's way past 20 pages by now. Highly doubt my professor would appreciate that.

I dedicated myself to not updating three days in a row so I waited until after midnight to post this chapter. Sorry to disappoint, but don't expect updates again before Friday. I actually do need to get started on my real paper, plus two rounds of Thanksgiving (one with my family, one with my boyfriend's family). Real life sucks, what can I tell you. I do love writing this story and I've completely fallen in love with the characters. I'm glad so many of you seem to like it as much as I do. Your reviews help distract me from my obligations to grad school, which I procrastinate happily.

Once again, many thanks to my beta, chisaii-kitty. I was lucky enough to get this chapter to her before the start of Dancing with the Stars and got it back several commercial breaks later. ;)

Disclaimer: I recently came into a great deal of money and now own the rights to the Southern Vampire Mysteries. J/K Any money would immediately go to St. John's University to fund my Master's Degree.

When we last left our dashing hero:

"What would I have to tell you?"

"You know, how you're head over heels in love with my roommate?"


He stared at her. His brain couldn't possibly formulate an answer to the question she had just asked. He felt as if he was having an out of body experience, since this moment in his life couldn't possibly be happening. He had to be watching someone else's life play out before his eyes.

"I beg your pardon? What the fuck are you talking about?"

"Oh, Eric, come on and stop being defensive. Don't play dumb with me. I see the way you stare at her, the way your whole face lights up when you see her."

"I don't know what you're talking about. I haven't felt anything for a woman in years."

"That's exactly why you're freaking out now. You're in complete denial. Tell me the truth, you saw Sookie before I introduced her to you."

"Well, I may have seen her in the cardio room yesterday. She was running and singing…"

"Singing? Holy shit, do not tell me she's the one you based the jazz singer off of!"

"I swear I didn't know anything about her. It's just she's so beautiful and her voice was so smooth I couldn't help but be inspired. The entire thing came to me in a daydream. It was completely unintentional!"

"So tell me, what's the jazz singer's name?"

"Susannah Renard."

It was Amelia's turn to be left speechless.

"Nope, sorry, not going to happen. No chance that happened independently of you meeting Sookie. Her legal name is Susannah and she grew up in Bon Temps, Louisiana. Want to take a guess which Parrish that's located in?"

"If you say Renard, so help me God, I'm going home and throwing my computer out the fucking window."

"Hope you backup your important documents."

Eric rose from the bench, full of nervous energy, running his hands through is hair. He couldn't believe any of this was happening. He knew nothing about Sookie when he had his daydream. How had he gotten such specific details about her so dead on? He dropped back down to the bench, putting his head between his knees. What he was feeling could only be categorized as a panic attack.

"Calm down there, Big Guy. I didn't mean to set you off like this. Just breathe, take deep cleansing breaths, in through your nose and out your mouth. Try to focus on getting your pulse rate to drop. I really don't feel like having to use my first aid training right now."

If there was anyone to have by your side while having a panic attack, it was a yoga instructor. Nobody understands how to get breathing under control like one. She began rubbing his back in soothing motions, similar to what she had done for Sookie on several occasions. She was making calming noises, timing her circles on his back to each inhale and exhale. It was working miracles on his nerves; he might have to give yoga some more consideration.

Once he got his breathing back in a normal rhythm, he looked over at Amelia, whose face was a mix of fear and concern. Looking around, he realized he had earned the attention of everyone else at the dog park. A few had cell phones out, ready to call 9-1-1 should he get any worse. Even Clancy had run over to his master's side in support. He offered a weak wave to the crowd as a way to say he was going to be okay. He ran his hands over Clancy; his dog always was able to calm him down.

"I'm sorry about that. After everything I've been through, I've developed a habit of having these nasty panic attacks when I'm feeling... overwhelmed."

"If anyone should be sorry, it's me! I should have known you would be a little more sensitive about emotional matters than most. I should have taken it easy on you. I know I'm a little snarky at times, maybe too much for my own good."

"Remind me to never, under any circumstances, let you meet Pam. You two would have far too much fun torturing me."

He gave her a sly smile, and in response, she hit him on the arm. Now that she was sure he was going to be okay, caring Amelia could be put away and the same old snarky Amelia could return.

"I really want to tell you something, but you have to promise not to do that again."

"I'm not making any promises."

"Sookie's going to change your life."

"She already has."

He looked down at Clancy so Amelia wouldn't see the tears in his eyes. He released his furry companion so he could go back to playing, but Clancy wouldn't hear it. He sat by Eric's side, refusing to leave.

"I'll be honest with you, Amelia. These past few years have been shit. I've been miserable. I tried committing suicide four times before I finally gave up. I refused to leave my apartment except to take Clancy for walks. My friends all gave up on me, or I gave up on them. The only one left in my life is Pam.

"Finally, I hit rock bottom and was able to try and pull myself up. My first day acknowledging myself as a member of the human race, I see her. Sookie has been a bright light in the darkness; a beacon calling me back to humanity. I should be elated. My life is getting back on track. But I'm terrified. I barely know her. I don't want to let her down but I don't know how to be with someone without shaming the memory of my wife. Additionally, why can I tell you every detail of my life this easily? It's as if you cast a spell over me."

"People come into our lives at specific times because that's when we need them the most. You are one lucky hombre. You got a two for one deal on amazing women."

"Tell me how to do this the right way. I can't risk screwing up whatever this is with Sookie."

"She's a true Southern Belle. You need to take it slow, be romantic, and be a gentleman. But let me tell you this as the best friend. Do not fuck this up. She has had her heart broken in the worst ways. If you don't have proper intentions for her, don't start anything. Do not string her along only to dump her when you don't need her for your book anymore."

"I could never do that. I'll just be honest with her. I don't know what I want from a relationship, or even if I'm ready for one. I don't think I'll have a problem taking things slow. I should be going. I'm trying to get more writing done. A plot usually proves helpful in a novel."

"See ya, Eric, be well. I'll see you around the gym. Don't be a stranger at yoga class! Oh, and a quick heads up. After you have dinner with Sookie Thursday night, she's going to want to invite you to come have drinks with a group of our friends. We all meet up every Thursday night since we coordinate a night off then. I knew Sookie wouldn't pass up a chance to have dinner with you, but she would never forgive herself if she canceled on our tradition for a guy. If you say no, it'll break her heart. Be prepared to meet a bunch of drunken hicks who will grill every detail out of your life."

"Thanks for the advice. How many do you consider a bunch to be? And aren't you supposed to be busy every night, how are you suddenly available Thursday night for drinks?"

"More than three, less than ten. I lied so you could take Sookie out alone, suck it up. Ciao!"

With that, Eric and Clancy headed out of the park. During the walk home, Eric found himself in a very contemplative mood. He made sure to stop at the grocery store on the way home, securing Clancy to a parking meter outside. He picked up a few of the necessities to get him through the next few days. With an increase in his workout regiment, he knew he needed to get back to eating regular meals.

Walking through the front door of his apartment, Eric found his way to the kitchen to refill Clancy's water dish and pass him a cookie. He considered sitting down on the couch to some mindless television, but what he said to Amelia was true; he needed to find a plot somewhere in that jazz club.

He found his way behind his desk, Clancy taking his favorite position underneath it wrapped around Eric's feet. He stared at the document, scanning through what he had written the day before. Even he had to admit it was pretty good. He ended up staring at the next blank page trying to find the rest of this story. He tried to think about his writing process in the past. He hated using a computer to get his ideas down, he liked nothing more than putting pen to paper. He dug through the drawers, trying to find an old legal pad to write on.

The sun was in the earliest stages of setting, so he opted to sit out on the balcony to get a change of scenery. Clancy was by his side, finding the overstuffed pillow that Eric kept out there for him. Eric stared down at the traffic passing beneath him, listening to the sounds of the city. He closed his eyes, willing his muse to sing to him once again. Susannah and Danger quickly appeared in his mind wrapped in a passionate embrace.

Nope, not ready to go there yet. Try again kids.

His neighbors were once again playing their television far too loud. He couldn't really blame them; the adorable couple both were in their eighties. Maybe trying to write outside wasn't a good idea. He could hear the night's headlines blasting through the open window.

The serial killer plaguing the Bowery was caught today. He struck ten times over the past six months before slipping and appearing on a surveillance camera. Police say he was leaving false information behind on cryptic notes to steer them in the wrong direction.

The story kept his attention, but the details faded to the background. The gears in his mind started spinning.

"Hey Clancy, how does this sound. Danger gets placed on the case of a serial killer. But the killer is working for him, making sure he's kept on the wrong path. That could be interesting."

He needed someone to bounce ideas off of. That position was once held by Felicia, she always told it like it was. She wasn't afraid to tell him his ideas were crap. Pam hated playing the hypothetical game. If it wasn't written in stone, his intended direction of a story, she had no input. He tapped his pen against the pad under the now unnatural glow of the lights strung along the balcony and the street lights below.

When did it get so late? Maybe a little dinner will get the creative juices flowing.

For the first time in a long time, Eric found himself in the kitchen, preparing dinner. He threw together a quick stir fry, the spices perfuming the air of the kitchen. Clancy sauntered into the apartment, roused from his outdoor nap by the smell of human food. He never was one to turn down the chance to beg, even if it never proved successful. Eric took the hint and opened up the can of dog food after plating his own dinner. The pair ate their meals together, Eric trapped deep in his thoughts.

Who can I bounce ideas off of? Sookie certainly couldn't be objective about the plot lines and Amelia had already done enough for me. Maybe it's time to put my big boy pants on and do this myself. I'm fully capable of stringing together a plot.

Placing his dirty plates in sink, he retrieved the legal pad and locked up the balcony. He paced the living room twirling the pen between his fingers, speaking out loud to no one in particular. Clancy certainly couldn't give any positive feedback; he was too busy working on a rawhide.

"A serial killer plaguing the city, that's something I've never done before. Someone pure evil, incapable of feeling remorse would be one hell of a foil for Danger. He would definitely be the darkest villain I've ever written, but I think I have enough practice in dark thoughts to get it right.

"But how does the jazz club tie into all of this? Maybe that's where Danger meets this new big bad. He could be a drinking companion, someone who acted compassionately, then befriending him in his darkest time. Maybe he's a waiter, or a bartender."

He raked his hands through is hair, in the earliest stages of getting frustrated. This idea of putting a book together alone was proving harder than he thought.

"That gets the club in, but what about Susannah? What role does she play in all of this? If she's working at the club, maybe she's friends with whoever our killer turns out to be."

He stopped dead in his tracks, dropping the pen to the floor in his moment of shock. The loud thud was enough to attract Clancy's attention off his bone.

"She's it! She's the killer. She's a black widow, marrying rich men and then killing them off when she's bored. The owner of the club is her next victim! Oh, Clancy, that's good, that's going to work. I've never done a femme fatale before, it'll be a twist the readers never see coming.

"If she's seeing the owner, how do I get her with Danger? That's how she's going to keep him off her trail, feeding him false information about the crime scene. Of course, if Danger's already on the case, her husband would already be dead! With the lead detective being led in a completely different direction, she's free to kill as often as she likes!"

Then his heart sank.

"Oh, not good, definitely not good. How do I tell Sookie that the character she inspired is a cold blooded killer? She'll think that I think she's evil, or that I think she's using me for something. Maybe she'll just be so excited that I thought of her to be included in the book that she can forgive me. I'll explain that the three characters I based off of Felicia didn't possess all her traits, at times they were polar opposites with just traces of her personality in them."

He fell back to the couch with a sense of peace about the book but a sense of dread about what was going to happen between him and Sookie. He hoped she understood enough to overlook that her inclusion into the Danger-verse was as a murderer. He glanced up at the clock and saw it was nearing midnight. He quickly jotted down his ideas so he wouldn't forget them tomorrow. He brought Clancy outside for his last stop of the night before going to bed. He was determined that he would have the entire storyline plotted out before he met Sookie, even if that meant allowing his writing to consume him as it used to. He needed a good night's sleep; he was unlikely to sleep again until he had it all down.


The next two days passed by in a blur. It was suddenly Wednesday night, and Pam was looking at the mess of papers covering his dining room table. He had done it; he had every detail of his story worked out. He had created a storyboard similar to that of a movie director. He invited Pam to stop by so he could get his green light to go ahead and begin writing.

Nothing on this Earth could wipe the smile off of Pam's face. She looked as his writing with the same glee that a child looked at her Christmas presents. She turned to his position in the kitchen where he was nursing a cup of coffee. True to his word, he stayed up for the past forty-five hours to get everything in his head down on paper. He hadn't felt this creative in years. His writing never came to him with this much force, demanding this much attention. Something inside of him had woken up from a deep sleep and was anxious to get back to work.

"Eric, this is amazing. I don't know where this came from, but frankly, I don't care. You have never gotten an outline to me this quickly in the nine years we've been working together. But that doesn't matter. Whatever happened to your process is for the better and I won't be the one to jinx it. Expect me tomorrow night; I'll bring a contract over so we can get this ball rolling!"

"Tomorrow night isn't good for me. I have plans"

"Plans? Eric Northman has plans? Be still my beating heart. Wait, is it with the blonde? Please tell me it's with the blonde. If she's got you this inspired, we need to keep her in the picture."

"Her name is Sookie and we're going to dinner. Apparently after that we're getting drinks with some of her friends."

"You're getting dinner with a woman and then going to a bar with a group of friends? Welcome back, old friend."

"Thanks. I actually have a small favor to ask you."

He then mumbled something undecipherable under his breath.

"What was that, you'll have to speak up. I don't take time out of my busy schedule for mumblers."

"I was hoping you would go shopping for me. I need something to wear that doesn't still have traces of Felicia's perfume. I want to look good tomorrow night."

"I won't go shopping for you, but I'll go with you. I can write off the afternoon as a business meeting and no one will ask. You know I love playing dress up with you as my personal Ken doll."

"Did you even play with Barbie dolls when you were little? In fact, were you ever little? I was under the impression that you were spawned fully developed from the demon that delivered you into this world as my own personal torture device."

"I'll ignore that little quip since it cements your return to being the smart ass I lost so long ago. And yes, I played with Barbie. I had an elaborate wedding where she married Midge. It was very romantic. I think that's when my mother realized she wasn't getting a traditional wedding out of me. Meet me at the Armani store on Fifth Avenue tomorrow at two. Please get some sleep, you look like shit."

Pam always had a way of ending a conversation. Performing the standard night time rituals, he soon found himself tucked into bed, an alarm set for the next morning at ten. Despite the massive amounts of coffee he had consumed, he found himself drifting off, back to the jazz club where Susannah gave him a private serenade of his favorite songs. His last conscious moment of the night was spent wondering if Sookie would ever consider a private concert for him.

A/N 2: Oh that Amelia. She's such a trip. I want to tell you a little story. I had this chapter finished earlier in the day but left it alone until I went to class so I could reread it. I came back and hated how I ended things. I originally had Eric find Amelia to bounce ideas around but decided that my Eric was becoming too co-dependent on her. I think the way I re-wrote it shows way more personal growth and his coming into his own again. Yup, I deleted 3.5 pages and am extremely satisfied with the way things turned out. What say you, reading public?