"Miss Wright, this is Preston Harper. I know you said you weren't interested in selling, but I have a client who would very much like to meet with you and make an offer. Call me back as soon as possible; my number is—"

Mercy deleted the message before the number was rattled off. She was half tempted to call Kate and give her a piece of her mind, and then call the police and get a restraining order slapped on the annoying realtor.

She blamed Kate and Ethan entire for the fact that Preston Harper continued to call. She'd been a complete wreck eight months ago, and in their haste to be helpful they'd contacted the realtor to sell the house, sure that she wouldn't want the reminders associated with it. She'd put that idea to rest the moment she found out about it, but it was too late: Harper continually listed her house on his website.

"Aunt Mercy, why does that man keep trying to sell your house?"

"I don't know, Ava. But don't worry; we're not moving."

He would give up eventually. Or she would shoot him. Whichever came first. She wouldn't feel too bad if she shot him.

"Can we have pizza for dinner?"

"I don't think so. It's time for real food, with vegetables."

The face Ava made was the same face she'd seen on Ethan as a kid. Vegetables seemed to be the universal enemy of children everywhere. The five year old grumbled as she carted her book bag to her bedroom. Mercy busied herself in the kitchen. There was chicken in the freezer, along with bags of vegetables, and she pulled out corn and peas. It was a rare day that they got home before six p.m., and she was using the time to cook a healthy meal.

"Get started on your homework, Ava!"

It was kind of ridiculous, that a kindergartner had homework. Granted, it was easy stuff, and Ava would have no problem with it, but that a five year old had homework at all—well, Kari Reynolds might be the best kindergarten teacher in the school, but Mercy thought she needed to tone it down a little. Ava started learning to read when she came to live with her aunt.

By the time dinner was ready, the child had finished most of her work, and Mercy called her to the table. She would finish the rest after eating, and Mercy could help her with the more complicated stuff, while she got to work on her own grading. She had to get the mid-term exams graded and handed back by tomorrow. Fortunately, she only had two more classes to finish grading.

By the time Mercy finished, it was time to put Ava through a bath and into bed. The bedtime ritual she could normally accomplish in half an hour; tonight it took forty-five minutes. Mercy wasn't sure what got into the kid, but she finally had to pick her up and bodily put her in bed before starting a bedtime story. Fortunately it didn't take long at all for her to drop off once Mercy started reading. She thanked God for small mercies as she turned out the light and closed the door, leaving the night light to chase away any monsters under the bed.

Almost ready to simply fall into bed and sleep herself, Mercy forced herself to grab her night clothes and head for the shower. Her progress was halted by her cell phone ringing, the number not one she could readily identify. It couldn't be the realtor, as it wasn't a Dallas area code. That much she was sure of, and she cautiously hit the button to accept the call.

"Hello?"

"Mercedes?"

She almost dropped the phone. She hadn't heard that voice in over a week, and she hadn't expected to hear it any time soon.

"Godric?"

"Yes. I—Eric gave me a cell phone so that I might speak with you."

"He did?"

Nice one. Of course he did, where else would Godric have gotten a phone?

"He did."

"So—does that mean you've remembered anything?"

She wanted to believe that his memory had returned. He wouldn't have to hide out with Eric. He would be free to come and go as he pleased, and not be dependent on his child. He'd always valued his independence.

"Unfortunately, I have not," he interrupted her thoughts.

"But your English—"

"I learned it."

Mercy cursed the fact that she couldn't see his face as he spoke. It was always difficult to pick up cues just from his tone of voice.

"You learned English in a week?"

She knew she sounded disbelieving, which he must have picked up on as he chuckled lightly.

"Yes, a week. What have you been doing since we left?"

Oh, Good Lord. It was going to be like those first meetings all over again. The past decade was a complete blank slate to Godric. He still remembered nothing of their history. She was starting from square one. Again. Holding back a sigh, she grabbed a pitcher of tea from the fridge and poured herself a glass before settling into the chair. This could be a long night.

TB-TB-TB-TB

"I called and called you last night. Where were you?"

The moment the bell rang signaling the end of classes for the day, Mercy was interrupted by Kate. She'd half-expected it, after ignoring all of her calls in favor of a four hour conversation with Godric. She was still unhappy about Preston Harper's calls.

"I was busy, Kate."

"Too busy to answer your phone? What could you possibly have been doing?"

"I was having an all night group orgy with a few hookers I picked up on the way home," Mercy said deadpan. She loved Kate, she really did; they'd been best friends since first grade. But her business was her business only. Kate stared at her in horror for a moment before she burst out laughing.

"I'm sorry. It really is none of my business. I'm just worried—you haven't been yourself this past week."

"So you've been saying. So of course you had to tell Carol you were afraid I might slit my wrists or something."

"What? I never said that!"

"Then tell me why she hauled me into her office during lunch to quote unquote check up on me?"

Kate at least had the decency to look embarrassed.

"I might have mentioned you were acting out of sorts. She's worried about you too, Mercy."

"Oh my gosh. You people seriously need to get a new hobby other than gossiping about me, because I don't know how much more I can take of your help."

She slammed her pen on her desk with more force than necessary, suddenly very tired of everyone's well-meaning interference.

"Hey! There's no call to get snappy, Mercy. We just want to make sure you're alright."

That did it.

"No call? No call!"

Mercy shot up from her seat and started shoving her things in her purse. She was not going to sit around and listen to this any longer.

"You know, I was actually having a pretty good day today, until I was dragged into the school psychologist's office and questioned endlessly about my absolute depression and any thoughts of self-harm! Thank you very much for that, Kate! And on top of that, I got home last night to find another message from that damned realtor still trying to sell the house I freakin' live in! Because you and Ethan decided you knew the best course of action for me!"

Her friend stepped back, stunned into silence for once. Mercy tried to rein in her temper. It took quite a lot to set her off, ordinarily, but when it happened….

"Kate, you are my friend and I love you, but right now you all just need to leave me the hell alone! And you can tell Carol the same thing!"

She stormed out of her room, almost running down one of her colleagues, who flattened herself against the wall.

"Mercy, you have the faculty meeting in ten minutes."

"Tell Dunning I have a headache!" she called as she reached the exit and slammed the doors open.

She collected Ava from the after-school classroom, the glare on her face daring the other teacher to say something. They were fortunately allowed to leave unmolested, which meant that no one else came close to having their heads ripped off.

"Are you alright, Aunt Mercy?"

"I'm fine Squirt. What do you say we go do something fun this afternoon? How about we hit the park and then go see a move?"

"Can we get pizza?"

The child's one track mind mad her laugh and she easily agreed. It was a rare day when she was caught up on all of the grading she had to get done, and since stalking out of the building, she had the rest of the day to herself. She was NOT going to spend it mulling over the opinions of her coworkers.

She wasn't terribly surprised when her phone rang again that night. She had to ignore it until she put Ava to bed, but as soon as she was done she called back. She didn't want him to fly his butt from Shreveport, which she knew he might very well do. Apparently one hundred eighty miles wasn't far enough to mute the bond. She couldn't feel him, but from the number of missed calls he could definitely feel her.

"I'm alright, I promise."

"You didn't answer your phone."

"I was-in the middle of something, and could not stop. But I'm fine, I swear."

"What happened?"

"It's nothing Godric. Just a human issue. One of my coworkers managed to really tick me off. Now why don't you tell me about Shreveport, and what you do with Eric?"

Anything to keep him from pursuing the topic of her day. The less she mentioned Kate, the better it would be for everyone. Godric had never had a high opinion of her best friend, and there was no need to drag that animosity back up. Besides, she was curious about what he did in Shreveport. She knew next to nothing about Eric Northman, apart from the fact that he was Godric's oldest child and a Sheriff in Louisiana.

Twenty minutes into the conversation, Mercy was interrupted by a knock on the door. Who could be at her door at this hour?

"You didn't decide to come over, did you?"

"I did not. Are you safe?"

She stepped out into the living room and looked out the window, careful to make sure that her pistol was handy. She almost swore when she saw who was on the other side.

"Godric, hang on a minute."

"Are you safe?"

"Yeah, I'm safe. Just hold on a minute."

She set the phone down on the end table and stepped up to the door.

"Paul, I'm not any more interested in seeing you tonight than I am Kate. Go home and tell your wife I'll see her tomorrow."

"She's worried about you, Mercy," he called from the other side of the door.

"I get that, but I'm still not talking to either of you tonight. Go home Paul."

"Mercy—"

And now she was on the verge of wanting to shoot the messenger.

"Paul. Ava is asleep. I fully plan on joining that state relatively soon. If you come through that door, I'm changing the locks. Go. Home."

She waited until she heard his car pull out of the driveway before returning to her phone call.

"Now where were we?"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"He's on the phone again, Sheriff," Heather informed Eric, who was only half paying attention as his other eye was on the dancer. She was just grateful he hadn't asked her to do THAT. She was happy to play gofer if it kept her off the poles and in her clothes. So far her week at Fangtasia hadn't been anything like she'd expected it to be.

"How long has he been on the phone?"

"Nearly two hours, Sheriff."

"And last night?"

"Four hours, Sheriff."

"Very well. That will be all, Heather. If Pam has nothing for you you're free to go for the night."

The girl nodded respectfully and left. Eric liked her; she was eager to learn, and eager to please. He surprised himself as the week went on by realizing that he didn't want to jeopardize having her at his disposal by sleeping with her. And she got on well with Godric; another mark in her favor. She'd kept his maker entertained and occupied, happy to help him practice his English until Eric got him a cell phone. He'd expected Heather to be useful, and he'd been correct. Her brother, on the other hand, might not be long for immortality if he didn't change his behavior.

"You have a visitor, Eric."

He hadn't heard Pam approach between watching the dancer and contemplating the newest additions to his area. He wondered that she bothered to leave her post at the door for that when she could have simply called to him in Swedish, with no one else understanding them. Curious, he looked over to see a rather elderly looking woman standing inside the door, looking distastefully at her surroundings. Eric shot from his throne at inhuman speed, and was at the door in the blink of an eye.

"Magda."

He nodded respectfully. She was the oldest witch he knew of, head of the largest coven in the southern U.S. She was not someone he wanted to piss off. If anyone could do anything about Godric, it was she.

"Why have you summoned me, Northman?"

"I find myself in need of your help, Magda. I would consider your success in this matter full repayment of your debt."

She narrowed her eyes at him.

"I've already repaid that debt, boy. You have your maker back, do you not?"

Eric blinked. That was certainly—unexpected. The crone herself was behind Godric's reappearance?

"You brought Godric back?"

"The coven did, under my orders. Our debt is cancelled, Northman."

When she turned to leave, his hand shot out and he grabbed her arm.

"Then I would very much appreciate your fixing whatever they messed up."

"What do you mean, what they messed up?"

"Come with me."

He pushed through the floor, the crowd instantly giving way for him. The old woman followed him, and only when they were out of the press of people did he speak again.

"Godric may be returned, but not all his memory came with him."

"Explain."

The look on her face suggested she didn't believe him. He had to remind himself that trying to rip her head off would be a bad thing.

"He has no memory of the last thousand years. He has no memory of making me."

Hell, he didn't even know if Godric was only missing a thousand years. It could even be longer.

"And you're sure it's not just you that he's forgotten? That's not the same thing as missing a full millennium."

"I'm sure."

He opened the office door and allowed her to step inside. Godric was still on the phone, and Eric could pick Mercy's voice out of the noise. He was relieved the human woman was talking to his maker. He'd been half afraid she intended to try to cut Godric out of her life completely when she kicked them out of the house. He had to admit that he was most curious about their history. He'd never heard of a human who managed to stay virgin and be companion to a vampire for ten years. Especially not one with an appetite such as Godric's.

His maker's eyes widened and his fangs dropped, when he saw the woman who entered with him. Eric heard him hastily end his conversation before turning his attention to the new arrivals, eyeing Magda with clear distrust.

"You bring a witch here, Eric?"

"She's here to help, Godric. Her coven brought you back."

If that statement was supposed to be reassuring, it backfired splendidly. Godric hissed at the elderly woman. Not just a witch then, but a necromancer as well? And Eric dared bring her here? In the space of a heartbeat, he had the old woman pinned against the wall.

"Tell me why I should not rip out your heart this moment."

"Godric, no! She's here to help!"

Eric laid a restraining hand on Godric's arm. If this escalated…..

"Hold your threats, Fanger. I mean you no harm."

With a warning growl, Godric released her. She didn't so much as rub her neck as she stood down, glaring at the eternally young vampire.

"Now tell me about this memory loss," she commanded as she made herself comfortable on Eric's couch. She was silent for several minutes after Eric finished his explanation, with Godric filling in gaps in the story. Patience had never been Eric's strong suit, and he was finding it difficult to employ now.

"I'm unaware of why there should be gaps in his memory, "she said at last. "That is not an effect of the spell we used. I shall have to look into this."

"What can we do to restore his memory?"

"I would hesitate trying anything until I can investigate this, Northman. Meddling in this could very well cause more damage, or possibly kill him."

"But his memories can be restored?"

Magda pushed herself to her feet.

"Truthfully, vampire, I am not aware of a spell that would restore a millennium's worth of memories. I shall have to see what I can find. I can show myself out"

"I'll escort you."

Eric shot up from his desk. He would personally see the crone safely to her car and off his property. It would be bad for business if she ended up destroying a vampire who made a move for her.

Godric was left alone again in the office, contemplating what the old witch said. The spell itself had only brought him back; it did not cause his memory loss. While he was pleased to learn that there had been on intent in his resurrection apart from repaying the crone's debt to his child, he could not help but worry at this missing memory. Perhaps one of the witches who cast the spell wished to cause him problems? Or could it be simply that one of the casters lacked the necessary experience or ability and did not perform the spell correctly?

Still, the why of his memory loss was not so important. It was whether he might regain those memories that concerned him. If he did not have them he could not return to Mercedes. She was so certain that he was in danger if stayed in Texas without his memories; and she was strangely unwilling to leave that place. What could possibly keep her apart from him?

"Magda will let me know as soon as she has any news," Eric informed him as he returned, effectively interrupting his thoughts.

"I've arranged a donor for you. AO negative."

"I'm not hungry, Eric. Thank you."

His child's smile died on his lips. What was so distressing about a lack of appetite? It was certainly not the first time in his existence that he was not hungry. He had gone days without feeding after he set out on his own. Hunger was little more than a minor concern to him.

"You need to feed Godric. Please. You had nothing last night. I won't watch you starve!"

The vehemence in Eric's tone was surprising. His child seemed to believe that he would willingly starve himself.

"Alright, Eric. I'll feed."

That his child even thought such a thing lead him to some rather disturbing thoughts. Why would Eric fear him starving himself unless he'd been given reason? Had he starved himself before? Why would he ever do so?

"Eric, how did I die?"

Eric froze at the question. He'd hoped Godric would never ask it. He'd asked plenty of questions about his life, and Eric had been reluctant to answer even those, but to tell him about his death? To relive it himself? He could not do it.

"You were not the same vampire, Godric. And I will say no more."

He opened the door and summoned the girl he'd chosen for Godric, watching carefully as his maker fed. For a moment he was half tempted to go to Dallas and bring Godric's human back with him. Let her deal with the questioning. She would have more answers for his last years anyway.

"Eric, there's a problem outside."

He growled at Heather for the interruption, but she stood firmly in place.

"Pam sent me to get you there's a detective who wants to talk to you."

"I'll be there in a minute. Tell Pam to make sure he has a warrant before she lets him poke around in anything."

"Of course."

Damned humans. Every time a person went missing, they went straight to the vampires for the cause. Did they have no more imagination?

"Attend to your business, Eric. I believe I shall return to the house."

There was nothing further to interest him in the club, and he saw no reason for his continued presence. Eric didn't need his assistance, and there were a few books in the library that he had not yet read.

"Heather, go with him," Eric ordered as he headed back for the crowd and the detective determined to harass him tonight.

Godric bit back a very human sigh of irritation as Eric arranged a baby sitter for him. It might be time to remind his child of his place. Even missing his memory, Godric was still the elder vampire. He did not require this baby vamp to follow him around.

"Are you ready to go sir?"

"Yes Heather. I am ready."

He walked out of the club, heather keeping pace beside him. He wanted to walk back to the house; it would give him space to think. There was peace in walking, with nothing to require one's attention.

"Are you alright sir? You look troubled."

He momentarily considered berating the girl for interrupting this thought, but he could see that her desire to help was sincere. And she would do far better with encouragement. Besides, he rather liked her.

"I appreciate your concern, Heather. But it is nothing you can help with."

"Is it about your human girl?"

He stopped in his tracks and stared at the young vampire.

"I heard her voice when you spoke on the phone. And you spent so long talking; I know she has to be special to you."

"She is very special,'' he muttered quietly, almost too low for her to hear.

"Then why don't you go see her?"

"The situation is complex."

"Because of your memory issue?"

She held up her hands in a non-threatening gesture when Godric's fangs dropped and he growled at her in warning.

"Sorry! I heard Eric threatening the old witch as he escorted her out. I can keep a secret, I swear. I won't tell anyone, not even my brother."

Godric's anger didn't dissipate, even though he believed her. His anger wasn't directed at her, but rather at the fact that she was right.

"It was not safe to remain in Dallas in my current condition," he finally admitted to the patiently waiting girl as he resumed his walking, "and she chose to remain behind."

It occurred to him that Heather, being the closest in age to Mercedes of any of them, might better understand how his human's mind worked. She was a woman of the same century, after all.

"Did she say why she wouldn't come?" Heather asked as they walked, pleased that he hadn't yelled at her or shown any inclination to hit her (unlike Eric, who nearly always acted as if he was only barely restraining himself.).

"She said only that she couldn't come. Eric tells me that I'm not the same vampire I was then. It's quite probably that she no longer wishes to be mine."

"I don't think that's it," Heather's casual statement surprised him. He looked sideways at her, waiting for her to continue.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, if she's so important to you that you spend hours on the phone with her, I'm taking a stab that she knows you pretty well, right? If she knows all about who you used to be over the last two thousand years, I doubt she'd be too surprised by this new you. I mean, you're not the same as you were when you were human, or when you were first turned, are you? You've already changed a lot over two millennia, and I expect she knows that. Unless you're as bad at sharing personal things as Eric, but I just don't get that vibe from you. I think you let those who were closest to you see you as you really were."

He was surprised at the young woman's perceptiveness. Unfortunately, he couldn't remember whether she was right. She was spot on about Eric, though. He had to smile at her description of his child.

"I was engaged before I was turned," she continued as he looked at her with new appreciation, "and Jeff and I had to call it off. It had nothing to do with his not loving me because I was the same person. My maker offered to turn him if he wanted it . But Jeff had other obligations, other people who depended on him. He couldn't leave them all behind to come with me."

Godric had not considered that. His only real thought had been that his Mercedes had sent him away. He had not questioned why she would not come with him. Perhaps there were other humans she felt she could not leave? It would certainly fit the character of his human, he knew in his gut. He would have to give strong consideration to this new theory.