A/N: Holy God, I didn't realize the overwhelming pro-Viking sentiment here until I looked at the other fics, haha. I don't want to be mean to Eric, I'm just a Bill girl. Also, I wrote the first chapter as a oneshot, but you guys seemed to like it, so I thought I would try to merge another idea I've had floating around into this fic. I hope you like it. :)

As though unwilling to press his luck, Bill did not visit Sookie that next night, or the next. She had come back from Merlotte's at almost 1:00, and she wanted nothing more than to shower and immediately hibernate. I think this is what it feels like to be old, Sookie thought as the scalding water rained down on her. She felt her mental shields clatter down around her. It was an impalpable thing, and yet it felt as tangible to her as a set of armor in a museum, loudly, messily, collapsing on itself.

And she relaxed, she reveled momentarily in the mental silence. Until she realized that the silence was punctuated by a different silence, a silence sitting on her front porch.

Well, whoever it was could wait until she was clean, Sookie thought obstinately. The wards were silent and it was an indecent hour, for a human, at least. But after a moment, feeling that she was being rude and mean-spirited and silly, she shut off the water and stepped out. She dressed as quickly as was comfortable and, setting her shoulders, marched towards the porch.

"Bubba!" she exclaimed.

He sat cross-legged, leaning against the pillar. To Sookie, his position implied restlessness, and it was such a fidgety, awkward posture that the mental image of The Man from Memphis in a schoolroom- legs locked together, hands clasped, twiddling his thumbs—came unbidden. He stood to face her, and his face glowed with vampirism and happiness.

"Hello, Miss Sookie," Bubba beamed.

"What are you doing here? It's so good to see you," Sookie said, delighted.

"Well, Miss Sookie, I had to come here to tell you somethin' special," Bubba started, and he was suddenly overcome with the air of someone who wishes to be congratulated, but too bashful to be direct. And very pleased, she decided.

"I'm gettin' married," Bubba preened.

"Oh, my God," Sookie said after the slightest moment. Bubba nodded, grinning proudly as though she had reacted appropriately.

She remembered herself. "Bubba, that's so... That's amazing," she chose her words. "Who is the lucky lady?"

"Winifred," Bubba helpfully provided.

Sookie stared at him again. She hadn't ever met a Winifred, she thought, had she? Then again, Bubba had wandered the South for years on end. Sookie sure hadn't been on a road trip with Bubba since 1977. He would have met countless people in his travels.

Still, she figured it was okay to ask. "Who—I mean, when did you two meet?" She tried to keep the note of blank confusion and amazement out of her voice, afraid to hear the answer.

"Two weeks ago," Bubba proclaimed happily.

It was as Sookie had feared.

"Oh."

Bubba gazed at her expectantly.

"Congratulations!" Sookie managed. She hugged Bubba, who wriggled jokingly out of her embrace.

"I'm gonna be a married man, Miss Sookie," he said, the very picture of undead jocularity. As if remembering that this was not his original task, he reached inside his jacket and produced a small white envelope. It was neatly embellished, very stately—it was clear that a woman had selected this document, a wedding invitation.

"Mister Bill's gonna be my best man," Bubba said, and the shining happiness on his face was renewed.

"Oh, wow," Sookie said. So at least Bill knew of this, she thought. "Well, thank you for the invitation, Bubba. I'll be there."

"Goodbye then, Miss Sookie," Bubba said happily. Clearly, Sookie's bewilderment had not become apparent to him. "I'll see you there!" And then he had disappeared. Sookie stared after him, wondering where he was off to next, hand-delivering wedding invitations.

She dialed Bill's number on the kitchen phone and twirled the cord around her hand absently. He answered before the end of the first ring. "Hello."

"Did Bubba just visit you?" she asked, omitting the pleasantries.

"Yes," Bill said. "He's going to have a very human wedding, I think."

It occurred to Sookie that she had not inquired as to the nature of the being that was Winifred. "Is she human?" she asked.

"She's a Were. I met her in Birmingham, a couple of months ago."

"A Were?"

"Werecat," Bill clarified helpfully.

That made entirely too much sense. Sookie shivered involuntarily. "Why not a... I mean, Eric and I had the—" She was remembering the knife wrapped in black velvet, presented to him in a ceremony that she hadn't been informed that she would take part in. That was her concept of a vampire wedding.

"I think that maybe Bubba would be uncomfortable with... typical vampire rituals," Bill cut her off. "I think he probably wanted something simple—a human thing."

She thought for a moment. Knowing Bubba, "uncomfortable" might be an understatement. Was "uncomfortable" what happened when some unlucky person called him by his human name? Something else occurred to her.

"He's with a Were?" she said, not quite a question. "Isn't that a little unorthodox?" She knew full well that it was more than unorthodox.

"Yes," Bill conceded. "But Bubba is not very orthodox," he said, and she could hear the smile in his voice.

Sookie was smiling too, now. "That's cute." The smile faded. "They met two weeks ago?"

"I introduced them," he said.

That stunned her. "Wow." She paused. "This is awfully fast, then... Oh, Bill, she's not...?"

"Addled?" Bill provided a word from a different time. "No. Well, she's not addled in the way that he's addled. She's a little odd. But... she doesn't recognize him."

"She doesn't recognize him." Sookie echoed, not understanding. "Oh. She doesn't... recognize him? As the King?"

"Yes," Bill said.

She laughed, disbelieving. "How is that possible? How does that work?" She opened the invitation. "The pleasure of your company is requested at the marriage uniting Winifred and Bubba. Saturday, the twenty-third of June, two thousand twelve, at midnight," she read aloud. "No last names, I see."

"Like Cher," said Bill.

"Or Satan," Sookie said. She started to laugh in earnest now. She heard a rumbling over the phone that she recognized as Bill's quiet laugh. It was absurd. Winifred was an absurd name, and Bubba was the undead body of the King of Rock and Roll, and he liked to drink the blood of cats, so he was going to marry one, and it was absurd. But despite her happy puzzlement, it made sense. And she smiled.

"Mister Best Man," Sookie said after a moment. The rock in her stomach had fizzled and shrunk with her laughter, and she was left with only gladness.

"Would you like to attend it with me?" Bill asked.

"Sure," Sookie said, slightly less glad.

He must have been pleased with that answer, because after a moment he continued, "Would you like me to come over?"

"No." Sookie said flatly. Then, regretting her shortness, she softened it with, "I'm about to fall asleep with the phone in my hand, Bill."

"Of course," Bill said obligingly. "Good night, sweetheart."

"Good night," Sookie responded. It seemed like she spent her whole life tired, but she supposed that that was what one did when one associated with vampires. She hung up the phone and for the first time in a long time, she was simply excited. A normal wedding—well, not normal, but neither party was unaware that they were getting married, and Bubba was so happy, and he had a companion now. Sookie didn't think he had had a real companion before.

She smiled herself to sleep.