Author's Note Thanks for the reviews, guys. I'm really glad you're enjoying the story. And I'm really glad some of you are familiar with Strong Poison by Dorothy L Sayers. Those of you who aren't, I can't recommend it highly enough. I just thought I'd mention that I've changed the category on this story from SVM to True Blood, because I'm relying more and more on show canon as the chapters progress-referencing things like the AVL, and the gutsplosion style death of staked vampires. Also, I think Eric's tone in this story, as well as Pam's, is more in keeping with the show. This won't have any effect on the story, though.

Eric does not attend the trial the next day. He seeds the audience with loyal vampires from his retinue, and receives their reports afterward. The news is not good. Compton's letter has been introduced into evidence, but the prosecution had seized on the ambiguity of its phrasing and placed one vampire after another on the stand to testify to the unlikelihood of any vampire surrendering his immortal existence for the sake of a human. The jury, Eric's observers tell him, found the combined weight of the testimonies compelling.

Eric spends the day reviewing the evidence and waiting for a call from Pam that never comes. Finally, he receives a text from her indicating that she has spent their time apart following a number of leads that have all panned out. Eric resists the temptation to vent his frustration by crushing the phone in his hand, and returns instead to the Bon Temps jailhouse. He finds Chow's security arrangements placed invisibly around the perimeter. It's small comfort. The greatest danger facing Sookie will not come from outside.

He glamors the human guard and the receptionist in order to pass them by without tiresome interference. He finds Sookie curled up on her bed, reading a book. She's changed out of her court clothes, into a tank top and a pair of pyjama bottoms. Her hair is wet. He finds the scene oddly arousing.

"Miss Stackhouse." She jumps, shrieks, and stumbles to her feet. Eric smiles. "I hope I find you well."

Sookie gathers up her dignity like the train of an evening dress, and gives him a short nod. "As well as I can be, thank you."

"You've had visitors." Eric glances at the flower arrangement in a plastic cup sitting on the desk against the wall.

Sookie follows his glance and smiles. "Some of my friends came by with food and books and flowers."

Flowers, thinks Eric. I should have thought of that. She must be enduring any number of privations in this jail cell; he will spare a thought, later, for contemplating how he can ease them.

"You are a great reader," he observes, taking in the fresh piles of books beside her bed.

Sookie shrugs. "Not a lot else to do in here."

"I have a substantial library."

Sookie cocks an eyebrow. "You've certainly had the time to build one." She takes a step backwards and sits down on the bed. "Have you found out anything new about Bill?"

"My people are still making inquiries," Eric says. "You can assist them by answering a few questions."

"Fire away," says Sookie.

"How you are covering your legal expenses?"

Sookie blushes faintly, but she doesn't avert her eyes. "Sid Matt is an old friend of my grandmother's and he's letting me pay in installments," she says. "Plus, my boss is letting me borrow some money."

"Your employer? Sam Merlotte?" Eric hears his voice turn cold. It is news to him that there is a man in her life willing to support her financially. He makes a note to look into Merlotte later.

"He's a friend," says Sookie uncertainly, as though the revelation has embarrassed her.

"Your grandmother died recently. Did she have nothing to leave you?"

Sookie shakes her head. "Just the house and the land. Not that I'm not grateful, but between taxes and upkeep the only way I could make money off them is if I sold them."

Eric finds himself wondering why she hasn't done precisely that.

"What of Bill's estate?" he asks.

"Excuse me?" says Sookie.

The confusion in her expression, Eric thinks, is a good sign. "You're the beneficiary of his will."

"I am? I figured he would have changed that when we broke up."

Eric's relief evaporates. "You knew about the will."

"Bill mentioned it once," she says, carelessly. "I think he just didn't want his family's house to go to strangers. It's not like he was leaving me a fortune, anyway. That old house of his is just like mine, a sinkhole for money."

Eric watches her face carefully. "Bill owned several thriving businesses."

Sookie's eyes widen. "Seriously?"

"He never told you?"

"No." There's a bitter twist to her mouth. "There's a lot of things Bill didn't tell me."

"Perhaps it's just as well this hasn't come up in the trial."

"Because it's not enough for me to be a homicidal fangbanger, I've got to be a gold-digger too."

Eric shrugs. "It could be portrayed as a convincing motive."

Sookie rolls her eyes. "Even if I knew Bill had money, killing him would be a stupid way to try and get it. You're not allowed to profit by crime."

"A jury might have a difficult time believing that you knew that."

"Because barmaids aren't supposed to know anything about the law?" she says shrewdly.

Eric smiles. "Something like that."

"Even barmaids watch Law & Order."

Eric turns behind him and picks up the chair left from the night before. He places it close to the bars of the cell door and sits down, leaning back casually.

"If you were going to kill a vampire," he says, in a light tone, "how would you do it?"

Sookie frowns, and blinks, but she rises to the challenge. "Stake them while they were sleeping, I guess."

"What would you do with the remains?"

"What remains?"

"The remains of the vampire you'd staked."

"Um, I don't know, vacuum them up? Sweep them under a rug?"

Eric smiles. A knot of tension in his stomach begins to relax and uncoil. "You've never seen a vampire staked."

"Uh, no." Sookie laughs a little, like the question is ridiculous.

"We don't turn to ash, Miss Stackhouse, unless we meet the sun. Even then the process is not instantaneous."

"Golly." Sookie blinks. "Did Bill leave-remains?"

"Remains were found at the scene. They were supposed to be Bill's. His resting place was-heavily marked with your scent."

She doesn't look surprised. "I'd been down there a few times."

"It is rare for a vampire to place that degree of trust in a human." Although he thinks he can understand why Bill Compton had done so. Eric feels quite certain that if Sookie ever kills anyone, they will be awake, facing her, and possibly armed.

"So the vampires on the jury will assume the only reason his resting place would smell like me is because I went there to kill him."

"Yes."

"How would I have known where he slept if he hadn't invited me down there?"

Eric rolls his eyes, remembering the closet and the carpet over the trapdoor. "It was not-especially well concealed."

"So someone else could have been able to find him, right?"

"That is my assumption."

She tilts her head curiously. "Did it smell like anyone else had been there, besides me and Bill?"

"The official report says no."

"You think whoever found him lied about what they smelled?"

Eric nods. "It's possible." It is more than possible; it is almost certainly what happened, which means that the deception must involve the Queen, the AVL, or both. He doesn't like to dwell on the potential complications this represents.

"Could someone else go and take a sniff around?" Like you? her expression seems to say.

He does not tell her that he has been there already in an attempt to do just that. "The scent is too old. Too many people have been in and out since the scene was discovered."

Sookie sits silently for a moment. Eric can almost see the rapid working of her thoughts. He wishes he could read them; the girl is complex, unpredictable for a human, in ways that leave him feeling uncharacteristically uncertain.

"Do you think there's a chance that Bill isn't really dead?" she says finally.

Eric's eyes widen involuntarily. He covers this by staring at her coolly for a second. "Why would you suggest that?"

"You said the remains were assumed to be his. Isn't there a way to tell for sure? Could they match his DNA?"

"DNA typing is unreliable for vampires." Not to mention the fact that many older vampires treat its existence as some kind of human fairy tale. The degree to which human scientific advancements has outstripped the magics of their kind makes most vampires deeply uncomfortable. Not Eric, though. He loves technology. He finds it all too easy to remember what the world was like without it.

"Well, crap," says Sookie, slumping.

"Don't look so despondent," says Eric, in a tone he hopes is consoling. He is out of practice at comforting humans. "I may have good news for you soon."

"What sort of good news?"

He briefly considers telling her about Pam's assignment, then changes his mind. It may yield nothing, and he doesn't want to place himself in the position of having to disappoint her.

"I can't say yet." He smiles, and deliberately changes subjects. "Have you given any further consideration to my offer?"

Sookie does not blush, or smile. She looks irritated. Eric fights the urge to scowl.

"It's crossed my mind a few times," she says. "But I have to tell you, Mr Northman, lately all I can think about is leaving the vampire world behind all together."

He forgets, from time to time, what a child she is. Does she truly believe she will ever be free of vampires again? "You may find that difficult."

"I reckon I'll find it a lot more difficult if I take up with you," she says pertly.

"Other vampires will not wait for you to choose them of your own free will."

"I'm pretty sure there are laws against that sort of thing."

Eric arches an eyebrow. "Human law has yet to catch up with the complexities of our world."

"I don't think it counts as free will if I agree to become yours just because I'm afraid of other vampires."

"We see things differently."

"I'll bet." Her voice is flat, unimpressed, dismissive.

Eric leans forward and favors her with a display of teeth. "I know you find me attractive."

Sookie shrugs. "Yeah, I've got eyes. So what?"

Stung, Eric sits back again. "I have a great deal to offer."

"That's what Bobby Delray from Lizard Lick, North Carolina, said in his letter." Sookie smiles. "He owns the Piggly Wiggly up there, apparently."

A growl rises in Eric's throat before he can restrain it. "You are mocking me."

Sookie's smile disappears. "You're mocking yourself," she says.

They stare at each other for a long moment. Sookie uncrosses her legs and sits up straight before speaking again.

"When I was Bill, I let him tell people I was 'his'," she makes finger-quotes around the word, "because I loved him, and because he said it was the only way to keep me safe from other vampires. But let me tell you, I didn't find it the least bit charming." She leans forward, her expression intent, like she's about to tell him a secret. "And just because he's not here anymore, it doesn't mean I'm fair game for the next vampire who takes a shine to me."

"I'm afraid that in the eyes of other vampires, you are very much fair game, as you put it," he says, irritated. "You would be wise to keep this in mind before scorning me."

Sookie rolls her eyes. "God knows, I can't stop you or any other vampire from knocking me over the head and dragging me off by the hair to your vamp-cave, if you want to. But my self-respect's about the only thing I've got in this world, and I'm not about to sell that by taking up with a man just because I'm afraid of what will happen if I don't."

Eric blinks. He finds that he has to take a moment before he can form a response to this. "You value your honor over your life." It isn't a question.

Sookie flushes. "Yes, if you want to put it like that, I guess I do."

Eric watches her for so long that she begins to squirm under his gaze. "Remarkable," he says at last.

"Not really."

He does not contradict her. To her, he is sure it does not seem remarkable. She probably can't imagine any other way to be.

Part of him wants to walk away now, leave the girl to her prison cell and her trial and what remains of her short human life. Or else tear down the door between them and sink his fangs into her neck. He can't remember the last time he met a human's resistance with anything other than a brief, predictable spurt of violence. He can't remember the last time he wanted anything so much, only to be denied.

But what a victory it would be, he finds himself thinking, before he can act on either impulse, to conquer the resistance of such a creature-not by stealing her honor, but by winning honor for himself in her eyes.

Eric opens his mouth. Closes it again, then speaks.

"What must a man do-a vampire-to win your loyalty, Miss Stackhouse?"

Sookie looks at him blankly. Her shock mirrors his own.

"I don't know," she says, after a moment. "I guess his actions would have to speak for themselves."

"Indeed." Eric grins. Action, he understands. He and Sookie speak different languages; action is infinitely to be preferred. "In that case, I have much to do before dawn."

He leaves her with no further word of farewell. Let her be confused; let her be the one left wondering, for a change.