A/N Hi! Thank you for your kind reviews and alerts, it's really encouraging!

I managed to sleep about three hours before I woke with a start. It was incredibly unfair that I found myself honestly exhausted, laying in the most comfortable bed I'd been in, possibly ever, and I couldn't manage a decent day's rest. I thought I'd been having a sexy dream about Bill, one of those ones where you're watching yourself while feeling everything. Only my hair was the wrong shade of blonde, and when I reached for him he shoved me aside, and I saw it was Lorena, wrapped up with him in the sheets I'd just bought for us, falling back on the pillowcases that my grandmother had embroidered and laughing as Bill dove between her splayed thighs. I remember when Gran made those pillowcases. I'd taken them from my hope chest when we moved.

I was entirely wound around the sheets in my own, well, in my hotel bed, when I came to. My face was wet. I felt trapped and kicked myself free before stumbling into the bathroom. May I just say? Thank goodness for hotel toiletries. With an on site spa, the selection was especially nice, and I pulled out my pony tail and turned on every single faucet in the shower. It was amazing. There were jets on three sides, and those overhead rainfall shower heads, and the ones with a hose attached that you can remove shooting down at angles. There was a little bench in there. It was like my very own jasmine-scented water park. Okay, this totally made up for the lousy nap. I stayed in until I started to prune. I would be taking another shower before bed tonight. And another one in the morning.

It occurred to me that I hadn't contacted the concierge about returning the rental car, but I also hadn't been down to check to make sure it was all tidied up and that we didn't leave anything in it. I abandoned a fluffy, over-sized towel for a plush, over-sized robe. I made my way back to the bedroom and I found my phone and dialed Lafayette.

"Girl, why your boyfriend callin' me at all hours looking for you?" he answered.

"First of all, no longer my boyfriend. Second, if he calls again, don't answer," I responded.

"Sook?" he asks, dropping right out of sassy mode.

"Long or short?" I ask, as I started to remake the bed.

"Both, start with the headline but read me all the fine print."

"Came home from tutoring last night to find Bill with that Lorena cow from his work in our bed." He actually gasped. "Yes naked, yes right in the act," I continued.

"That piece of shit," he answered.

"Yup," I confirmed. "He jumps up immediately, and oh my god Laf, it was exactly like you read about and see in movies. It's like he was running lines from the cheating asshole script. Sookie, it's not what you think, Sookie let me explain. There's another woman cumming on my sheets Bill! Even Bill O'Reilly could explain that!" I can almost hear Laf nodding as he mutters his agreement. "But of course you know, I had nothing to say at the time. I was just in shock, completely speechless. So I just went in the room and started pulling at the laundry pile, and got some clothes, and left my books. And she's just laying there, naked as a jay bird," I start waving my hands at the empty hotel bed as I continue carrying on to my best friend like he's in the room.

"And once I have some clothes in my purse I'm just standing there like a moron, while she's laying in my bed, and she smiles at me and asks me what I'm doing there. And then she turns to Bill and tells him to Put. The dog. Out."

"Oh no she fucking didn't," he says, and not in his 'oh-my-god' voice, in his 'I'm six-foot-two-inch-two-hundred-fifty-pound black man' voice.

"Yes she fucking did!" I shriek back. I don't know if I have neighbors in this room or not. It's still just afternoon, so if I do, hopefully they're not in. If they're in, hopefully they didn't hear that. I feel bad for shouting curses and try to rein myself in quickly.

"Well I just didn't know what to say to that, so I just left. I went out to the kitchen and called for the car service and had a glass of water, and he finally comes out with his sleep pants on, and tries to explain some more, except he's not explaining anything, he just keeps telling me this is a misunderstanding, and I don't know what I walked in on. I couldn't say one word to him. I don't even know half of what he was saying, I was just waiting for the car." Lafayette takes my pause to agree that nothing that fink bastard has to say at that point was worth listening to anyway, while inadvertently agreeing with Jason about Bill's Oedipal complex with the crudest terminology.

"So after about six hours of me staring at my phone the driver calls up, and I go down, and he follows me out, and then he starts in about how I'm being unreasonable and ridiculous, and how we need to talk about this like adults. He followed me onto the street still in his stupid sleep pants and nothing else, shouting at me like I'm some child. Well then I just told him to never call me again and shut up and I got in the car and locked it and left."

"Aw, Sook. Why didn't you come right here?"

"I went to the airport, Laf."

"Are you home? I mean home, home."

"Not quite. I'm in New Orleans. I guess I'm sort of staying with a friend tonight."

"That's good, you need a little sisterhood today. Kappas going to fix you right up."

"No it's...not a sorority friend. Not even a girlfriend. My night just got weirder and weirder. I'm on about 5 hours of sleep, broken up in bits." I start to explain about running into Eric Northman of all people, and getting rerouted to Dallas, and driving through the night, and ending up in this luxury hotel with the world's softest bed and the shower that makes me want to get to church this Sunday so I can thank God for plumbers.

"I'll be at Jason's in a day or two until I can get the house open again," I finally finish. I upend my purse on the bed, abandoning the pretence that I can find any darn thing I am looking for in there otherwise. I start separating out the clothes from the books and the pens and this morning's granola bar, and all the various other junk that makes its way into my bag. Oh hey. I have gum.

"This is Bill's hot asshole boss, right?"

"Right."

"The one who hits on you?"

"That's the one," I chirp, thinking of Pam. I wonder what she'll have to say about all this. I'm going to be pretty sick and tired of reiterating the whole story soon, I think. "Oh damn," I interrupt myself. "Laf, do you know anyone that's good with Algebra? I just started with the Bermans but I'm not going to be able to commit, obviously. I want to leave them with a recommendation." I've known Lafayette since university, and he's now doing his post grad work in Seattle. I'd been so happy to reconnect with him out there. He's the one who got me into tutoring to hold me over until I could find a regular teaching job. I'm feeling absolutely horrible right now for bailing on him.

"Sook, don't even worry about that, you take care of you."

"Lafayette, I'm so sorry to leave you in a lurch," I continue, but he cuts me off.

"I'm serious. I've got an endless stream of undergrad ass kissers to send their way. One will stick. I'll call when we get off and tell them you've had a family crisis and had to return to Louisiana."

"You're an amazing man, Lafayette Reynolds."

"Yup, and you just keep telling every boy you meet that. One of them will make his way back to me." I smile. He is indeed an amazing man.

"So I've got to go shopping now," I say, ready to wind down the conversation.

"Sookie, you should break up more often. I never hear you treating yourself so good."

"No, it's not that. I didn't pack any underwear." He laughs. I laugh. We say our love you's and goodbyes.

I take a notebook and a pen from now tidy array of my belongings from my bed and start making my shopping list. Bras, underwear. Outfits. Shoes. Suitcase? Coffee. Deodorant. I do not put shampoo or conditioner or soaps on the list. I plan on availing myself of the hotel's stock while I'm here. That's what they're there for. I need to have the clothes I wore here laundered. There's a bag for that in the front closet. Good. I need to call about the spa for Pam, but I don't know when she's in, or what they have planned. It's not quite five yet, I have a couple of hours. I can check with Eric. I'd really prefer he do it. Oh yes, check the SUV.

The outfit I didn't wear on the plane and the impromptu eight hour road trip is a grey pencil skirt and a black knit twin set. Probably too warm for down here during the day, but it's what I've got, so I slip it on, along with my withered delicates. I console myself with the fact that I have an extra good reason to revisit the wonderful shower later. I fix my hair a little, and just as I finish, the room phone rings. Trudy's calling to wake me, and let me know that Mister Northman left a message that he'll be back at the hotel by eight. I bite my lip and go ahead and ask her to book Pam for a half-day of her favourite spa treatments beginning at noon, and then the standard half-day for myself as well at the same time, but minus the facial, because those take a day or two to recover from if they're done right, and I'm doing just fine keeping my face flushed and puffy on my own, thank you.

At this point I've resigned myself to spending from my savings. You're supposed to save money for a rainy day, and as Dallas International can attest, it seems to be pouring wherever I'm headed this week. So I'm spoiling myself, just a little. I've got no idea when I'm going to be able to get my things back from Bill. I guess I will have to talk to him eventually, but definitely not today. I repack my purse, leaving out most of its previous contents, and head downstairs.

I hadn't really taken in the lobby earlier that afternoon, but it's really stunning. The floors are marble and there's a gorgeous crystal chandelier hanging from the high vaulted ceiling. The space is very open and airy, with full windows all around. Big lush ferns are potted in various corners, concealing outlets and switches, I assume, but the effect is lovely. The sun is fading fast, but there's still a lot of light coming in. I spy Rick and Trudy at the desk and head over to ask about the car. Rick's on the line with the valet to have it brought up for me to inspect before he'll send someone out to return it. They're amazing and I tell them so.

He assures me that they can have a rental here within an hour whenever I have need tomorrow, so I don't need to worry about that today. She tries to ploy me once again with assistance with the shopping but doesn't seem to take offence when I refuse. It's nice being catered to this way, if a little overbearing. I phoned Pam as I headed out.

Our Barbie joke persisted through several other of our meetings pertaining to Bill's work. She was blonde too and taller than me, though not as buxom. I didn't want her missing the fun, so she'd been Bored Barbie, Bisexual Barbie, and once, memorably, Bare-assed Barbie. Anything for fashion, that Pam. We'd had lunch several times, both before and after the move, and chatted occasionally. I wouldn't say we were bosom friends, but we were friends. We had a niche, and it was really nice to have someone I could always gravitate towards whenever I was playing my traditional Arm Candy Barbie role.

"This is Pam," she answered.

"Hey Pam," I replied.

"Soo-kie, Soo-kie, Soo-kie," she started. "Eric tells me you're with him in New Orleans."

"Guilty as charged, ma'am."

"Don't call me ma'am!"

I giggled. Pam already had plans to defy aging gracefully, and hadn't even hit thirty yet. I gave her a very brief version of how her boss and I had ended up travelling companions, omitting Bill entirely. She noticed the omission.

"And where's Bill? Still up here?"

"I assume so," I said, and that was really saying plenty in itself.

"REAL-ly," she replied.

"We'll talk about it tomorrow, Pam. When do you get in?"

"Nine. I'll be at the hotel by ten. You'll still be there?"

"It's looking like that. I think I'm on vacation, at this point."

"Well, then I'll see you in the morning, Sookie."

"Sure will. Safe flight." I hung up. I'm not really a shopper, the way some girls are. For me, it's a chore. I found a drug store first, and then blessedly, a department store. I did my very best to be quick and practical. I got a pair of tennis shoes, and another pair of silver flats. I found two skirts, three blouses, a cardigan, two sundresses, a pair of trousers, a pair of yoga pants and a t-shirt, and a plethora of matched lacy underthings. Whenever I buy bras, I buy several. I wasn't being vain when I said I'm buxom. They don't always have my size, so when they do, I tend to buy. I found a cute little sleep set and some socks, a short silk chemise, and a little black dress, and some sunglasses. Finally, I found a little suitcase on wheels to pack it all into. It was quick and practically painless, and I found myself back at the hotel by seven with an hour to kill.

I changed into one of the sun dresses and set out the laundry by the door so I'd remember to stick it out overnight. I probably could have waited until I got to Jason's, and done mine with the piles of his that were sure to be waiting there for me, but I figured the fewer dirty things I packed with my nice new stuff, the better. I started list-making again, about the house. Water was from the well, and that stayed intact, but I should probably have it serviced just in case. Electric, Cable. Phone. Did I still need a land line? No, but I did need a new cell phone. I literally facepalmed. Bill and I were on a family plan. I needed a new cell phone tomorrow. I underlined it three times. Internet. Maybe I'll finally get a smart phone. Then I won't need the internet separately I think, because it'll be on my phone. And I can tether it... or something like that. I'd have to ask at the store. They were going to love me. I know how to use it. I'm good at using technology, but I don't know how it works, and as long as it works, I don't really care. I guess I'd have to learn a bit now though. Bill did all that stuff. I went ahead and called about the electric and the well before there was a knock on the door.

Eric looked downright dapper in a navy blue suit with a light blue shirt and a red tie and matching pocket square, but his eyes showed exhaustion. He threw himself on the comfy leather couch, pulled his hair out of its leather tie and tilted his head back.

"Tough day at the office?" I asked, retreating back to my place at the table, switching on another lamp as I came.

"You've no fucking idea," he groaned, slipping off his tie. He paused, looking around at the room. "This is nice. Cosy."

I laughed, since the word I would have chosen was more along the lines of palatial, at least as hotel rooms go.

"Were you on time then?" I ask.

"Yes, thank you for getting the car. It had slipped my mind."

"I sorted all the cars. The rental has been returned as well, and they tell me I can order one up whenever I'm ready to go. Rick is amazing. Trudy, too."

"It's what we pay them for."

"True, but they're incredibly nice about it. I talked to Pam a bit. You'd mentioned the spa. She's in at nine and here by ten. Trudy hinted that she's picky, and wanted to take over scheduling, so I let her. The appointment is for noon."

"That's fine. For you as well?"

"Well, yes, but I needed to ask you, what time is checkout, and what is your schedule like tomorrow?"

"I'm tied up in the afternoon again, so it works out well."

"Well then maybe we could have breakfast, or brunch when Pam gets in, and then I can leave after the spa."

His head shot up and suddenly I had his full attention. "You're leaving?"

I chuckled, "Well yes Eric, that's the plan. I think you were even with me when I planned it."

"I thought you'd stay through the week with us."

"And - what?"

"Most of our team has moved to Seattle now. It's actually why Sophie Ann's so interested in keeping ties down here. We have no one in the area. You'll be good company."

"So today I was your assistant, and what am I for the rest of the week, an entertainment expense?"

"Well I'm sure you can assist Pam or I with ..."

"Eric!"

"Sookie?"

"Eric, I planned to stay one night here. And lovely as it is, and believe me, I think the fringe benefits of corporate drudgery are finally dawning on me after seeing that bathroom, I'm not living out the week in here so you can have amusing dinner conversation."

"You told Pam you were on vacation."

"Well yes," I started.

"And you told your brother you would call him tonight to finalize your plans."

"Yes, you were sitting right there," I confirm, walking right into it.

"So you can tell him that you'll be up next week, and this is even better really, because if Bill goes looking for you there, you won't be found, which you seemed to want."

"Yes, but," I started again.

"And I'm sure you have friends in New Orleans you would like to catch up with, besides us."

"Well, always, but..."

"But?"

"But you can't just make decisions like that for me. I mean you didn't even ask."

"Sookie, would you like to stay on vacation here for a week, and continue enjoying the heavenly bathroom?"

I glared.

"That's adorable," he remarked, almost impassively. "It's like you're angry about not being able to be angry with me."

"Eric," I sighed.

"Yes?"

"I'll stay then."

"Excellent. Dinner?"

"Aren't you tired?"

"Yes, but bedtime is midnight. If I sleep too soon, I'll be up too early, and then I'll be tired in the afternoon. Did you get your shopping done?"

"I did actually. I spoiled myself a bit."

"Just one suitcase? I'll schedule Pam some time to teach you about spoiling yourself." He gets to his feet, pulling himself to his impressive height. "Come on then, I know a good place. You won't have to change." This is a brand new dress. Thanks for keeping me humble, big guy.

It's a warm night, for March, so I just grabbed a sweater before we headed out. I called Jason, alerting him of the revised plan, and told him to call me immediately if Bill contacted him again, or God forbid, showed up in Bon Temps. Since Bill had said he'd call at six Seattle time, and since I had no intention of answering that call, I went ahead and left my giant purse behind, taking only the little wristlet that snapped inside of it along with me. I quizzed Eric about cell phones and internet service as we walked. He told me what kind of setup I'd need and agreed it was probably my best option so far out in the sticks. He had the same reaction to sharing a cell phone plan with Bill that I'd had myself, and offered to take me shopping before Pam arrived in the morning.

"If you wouldn't mind, I'd really appreciate it actually," I said.

"It's no problem, though all the geeks will be very put out they lose the chance to school you." I snorted at that, but he continued, "No really, it's what they live for."

"Speaking from experience there, Northman?"

"I worked in the computer lab all through school. Having clueless coeds as my captive audience late at nights was the only benefit."

"I'm not sure if I'm more surprised to hear you worked in school, that you were a tech geek, or that you're actually telling me about yourself."

"I am a tech geek, Sookie. Perhaps more socially functional than most, or at least better at pretending to be. I hear when my guard is down, I am both a grump and a grouch." So, definitely faking sleep at least part of the time. The snores. The snores will be the gauge. Wait, why am I planning on being around him while he's sleeping ever again? "And of course I worked in school," he finished.

"But aren't you? I mean, you didn't have to, did you?"

"No, I didn't have to, but it's good to work. Do you not agree?"

"I do. My gran was very fond of that adage about idle hands being the devil's playground. Not the actual devil though. She meant it as far as your own demons. It's important to have things that focus you, both work and pastimes."

"Yes, I have a grandmother with many similar sayings."

"Do you have a big family?"

"Not so much. My parents are divorced, and I don't see much of either of them. My mother's mother is the one with all the wisdom. My father's parents are both here in the city. No cousins, no siblings. It's just you and Jason, yes?"

"Yes."

"So why did he say 'family'?"

"Hm?"

"In his voicemail Bill said he was assuming you'd gone to visit your family. It's an odd way to word it if he knows it's just Jason."

"Oh, he and Jason don't get on. Jason is, well, he's a redneck. If he'd gone to school it would have been for the football, but he wasn't quite good enough for that, so he didn't. But he's happy as he is. He's blue collar through and through, and Bill... well, you know Bill."

"Social climbing, ass kissing, economic snob."

"Right. You do know Bill," I smiled weakly. It was true. They were negative qualities that I knew he had all along, but just like I forgive Jason for loving Nascar, I forgive Bill for loving wine and cheese. And he really did. The man could pick a merlot. "Anyway, I suppose it's just the way he compartmentalized what he considered a blemish."

"I hope you're realizing as you're saying that how fucked up it is."

"Yup," I said, popping the P.

The place we stopped at was a little bistro and he confessed that the initial draw had been the really large chairs. He'd actually said 'properly sized chairs', but honestly, they were built for giants. Only my toe tips brushed the ground when I sat back. The food was amazing. You might not think that two blonde haired blue eyed people would be into soul food, but I'm from here, and I love it, and Eric plainly enjoyed his meal as well.

"It's nice that you eat," he said, as wandered away down the street.

"Yeah, I've gotten that before. Most girls only pick at salad, right?"

"Right."

"It's all lies, you know. They run home and eat a whole pint of ice cream at bed time cause they're starving."

"You're saying you skip the ice cream then?"

"No way," I grinned.

"Good. This way, Miss Stackhouse, if you please." He gave an exaggerated bow and offered his arm, and I took it with a laugh.

The ice cream shop he had in mind was a bit of a hike from the restaurant, but I knew it well and it was worth the walk. I had one scoop of almond rose and one of honeyed pear on a cone. He had some sort of enormous sundae, and he let me pay. I was almost shocked. We sat down at one of the tables outside, so we wouldn't make a mess while walking. Also, we were both really tired.

"You realize that's not fair," he said as he watched me.

"If you wanted one, you could have gotten one," I answered breezily.

"Not what I meant," he said, helping himself to another spoonful of chocolate and brownie.

"Oh real men can't lick on ice cream cones, huh?"

"Also not what I meant."

"Hm."

"Keep guessing, you'll stumble onto it eventually and then I can stop pretending I'm not getting hard watching you."

"Ah, Mister Northman. I almost missed you."

I turned away from him then, so as not to further agitate him, and to hide my own embarrassment. It was familiar, in an uncomfortable sort of way. Definitely not the first time he'd made a similar remark. In fact he'd done it more or less every time we'd met, to one degree or another. I swear it was like he didn't have an appetite for picnic food until he'd turned me as red as one of the plastic drink cups. I'd been with Bill every time of course, and that had made it simultaneously harmless and horrible. Harmless, because I had been with Bill and he knew it, and I knew it, and I'd never once reciprocated with anything like in kind. Horrible, because I had been with Bill and he knew it, and it was just plain disrespectful to us both. At least now I only cared about my part in it, though.

"Eric?" I asked, still not turning around.

"Sookie?" he replied.

"Did you know?" And nothing. There were people all around, and we were on the street, so it wasn't quiet, but the silence from him was all I could focus on. I pulled my arms around myself with my wrist tilted awkwardly so my cone was jutting out away from my new sweater. "About Bill and Lorena I mean," I finished finally. Maybe he just wasn't answering because he didn't understand my question.

"No," he said from over my shoulder. He took the cone from my hand and replaced it with another of his handkerchiefs, red this time, which I gratefully pressed to my eyes.

"I suspected I guess," he paused, "but I didn't know for sure."

He came around me and lifted his hand to my arm to get me moving alongside him down the street. We ambled along for a while, I with my chin nearly to my chest, my hair falling in a curtain around my face, and him slurping occasionally at my ice cream cone. I suspected maybe he was exaggerating the noise. To help hide my sniffling maybe? Or to make me laugh? Maybe just to prove he was man enough to lick on an ice cream cone in public.

"Is that why you always talk to me like that?" I asked quietly. "Because you knew something wasn't right?"

"Maybe," he answered after a moment. "Maybe it's just because you're hot in general and pretty when you blush, Sookie."

He didn't say anything else until my sobbing had abated. After it had, he put an arm out in front of me to halt me and stepped in front of me. I lifted my head only fractionally, and looked up at him only so much that I could barely see his face. He offered me the cone back, lowering it in front of me.

"No, finish it," I said, shaking my head, my hair swaying with the gesture. "You sounded like you were enjoying it." He said nothing, and continued holding the cone out, so I pushed at his hand a bit, to little effect. "Let's get back. I want to try out my enormous bathtub before bed," I said, moving to step around him, but he caught my arm and held me in place. Wow. He is really strong. Finally I look up at him, getting exasperated. "Eric, what?"

He glanced down at the cone again, then raised an eyebrow at me. Rolling my eyes I pushed his hand away again, and he pushed back, only like I said, he's really strong, and his little push was stronger than my little push. And that's how I ended up with honeyed pear ice cream up my nose and all over my cheeks. I leapt back with a shriek, worried for my dress and he let the cone fall to the ground with a tiny splatter that made me jump again. For a shocked moment we stood there before he burst out laughing and I raised his tear-stained handkerchief to wipe my nose while I stared at him in disbelief. Then, he ran for it. I gave half a thought to my shoes before giving myself and internal shrug, and then bounded after him.

Three blocks later he let me catch up, breathless, laughing. I swatted at him with my wristlet, which he easily deflected.

"I only wanted to watch you with it some more," he laughed, "but that was so, so much better." He leaned over me. "You missed a spot. Well. Spots," he grinned, and I gave him a hard shove and he staggered back melodramatically.

"Ass," I grinned at him, wiping at my face again.

"I hear it's one of my best features," he smirked. Oh God how did he know that? Bright. Red. Stop it stop it stop it. He's aware independently! He probably does special exercises just to keep it like that. Stop blushing! I stormed away from him, feigning indignation over the ice cream assault. Yes. Righteous indignation. Definitely not mortification.

"I see you agree!" he gloated after me.

As we reached the corner of a busier street he caught my arm and held me back. "Let's get a taxi," he said. We had one hailed within a few minutes, and then we were speeding back to the hotel. The ride was quiet, but comfortable. I was glad it was short, as I was indeed in danger of falling asleep on him again. We walked through the lobby to the elevator and Eric greeted Stuart, the night manager. He wished us each a good night. He called me by name, though we hadn't been introduced. Well, he called me Miss Stackhouse, at least. I don't think there's a single person in this place that doesn't take pride in their job. I'm looking forward to the spa day even more now.

"So nine or so, for the cell phone shopping? That should leave us enough time to get back before Pam comes in," he says.

"That's fine, I'm usually up early," I say.

"Well we've established that I'm not a morning person, so come up at nine. It'll give me a few extra minutes. 602 is me."

"Sure," I say. The doors slide open and he's following me to my room.

"I forgot something earlier," he apologizes. I glance back at him. Ah, his tie. After successfully navigating the door lock with the swipe card, he follows me inside. I hate these, incidentally. What the heck was ever wrong with plain old keys?

Waltzing into the sitting room he bends to grab his crimson tie off the table where he left it. "Bring me your phone for a second?" he asks. I go and grab it from the charger in the bedroom and hand it over. He probably needs to check the SIM card or something.

After fiddling with it for the moment, he says, "You've got three texts, three missed calls, and a voicemail. Do you want to check them now?" I nod, telling him the password. It doesn't matter. I'm changing it tomorrow anyway. That was pretty slick of him, I realize.

"The calls are all from Compton," after a pause. "The texts, Call Jason in the morning. Compton texting to let you know he wants to talk to you, thanks Bill, she never would have guessed by the three calls in two hours, and Bill again, asking you to check your voicemail." I gestured him to go ahead and call it, and he does, switching on the speaker.

"Today at. Eight. Twelve. ... Sookie I'm growing a little weary of the silent treatment. I'm more than concerned. Your credit card appears to have been tampered with. I have been unable to contact your family today. If you are in Louisiana I would appreciate being informed of the length of your stay and when I can expect you home. You've received some mail today from one of the schools you mentioned applying at for work. If you like, I will open it. You have responsibilities here that are clearly going unattended. I will expect your call tomorrow. Good night."

He pushed another button. "De-lee-ted," said the robot woman, and Eric switched the phone off.

"Your credit card?" he asks.

"I called the company this morning, had them disable anything he could try to access remotely as far as recent transactions go."

"Smart." He nodded his approval. Then, "You alright?" he asked, and I nodded. "I meant what I said earlier today, just so you know." He waited for me to look at him in question. "Bill Compton is a fucking idiot."

"Amongst other things," I sighed.

"That's the spirit," he agreed, patting my shoulder. "So, good first date, yes? Not a bad night?"

I rolled my eyes. "Oh sure. Only one breakdown in tears over another man, and barely half a dessert all over my face," I say matter-of-factly. "A charming evening all around." It was his turn to roll his eyes. "I had fun Eric, thank you," I said more seriously. "You cheered me up quite a bit."

"I'm glad you agree."

"Nope, not a bad night."

"No, that it was a date," he smirks. He bent down and kissed my cheek, and before I could say a word or move a muscle he used his nimble giant powers to spring across the room and scoot out the door. "Nine A.M.!" I heard him call from the hall as the door closed behind him. Eric Northman, ladies and gentlemen. He knows how to make an exit.

I went to run the bath before bothering with anything else. It would take at least ten minutes to fill. I stripped off and cuddled back in the snugly robe, and went to set the laundry out. I didn't bother with the dress I'd worn tonight, but the under things went in the sack. I filled out the little inventory card and cracked the door open to slip the bag on the outside handle before flipping the top lock. Padding back to the bedroom, I cleared all the purse debris from the bed onto the dresser and grabbed my book heading back to the bath. Half way full. I found a little bottle of body wash and emptied its contents into the tap. It works just as well as actual bubble bath. I briefly considered raiding the minibar for one of those little bottles of wine, but decided against it. I didn't want to pass out in the tub. So I dropped the robe and sunk into luxury, eager to see if the Duchess and her groom would finally yield to their temptations this day. I can't help it if I'm a romantic.

I must have dozed in there at some point anyway, as I stirred with a shiver to find that all my bubbles had vanished and the water had gone lukewarm. I dried quickly and crawled into bed still mostly damp and dreamt I was Buttercup ordering about a taller version of Wesley, only he made fun of me for not being able to reach the pitcher instead of simply fetching it. I stirred again, feeling myself smiling as I snuggled down. Overall, a good night.

The discrete digital clock on the dresser glowed a ghostly blue 7:15 when I woke up for real. For the first time in about 36 hours, I actually felt awake, so hopped out of bed, pulled on my yoga pants, tee, brand new socks (I love new socks.) and tennis shoes, and went downstairs to see about the gym. And hopefully coffee, on the return trip. I met Marcia and Paul at the desk, and they gave me directions. Without Eric, I'd actually gotten the chance to introduce myself to the morning staff. I confirmed with them that we expected Pam by ten. I followed the way Marcia pointed across the lobby and down the hall until I found the workout room. It was pretty standard fare and I had a good stretch before hopping up on the elliptical machine and bumping the resistance way up so I could get ta' sweatin'.

Half an hour later I was drenched and my ears were buzzing with the flood of endorphins. I was bent over the water cooler sucking down my third little cone cup of sweet hydration when Paul came in to offer me a towel. I beamed at him and wiped my face down, totally stoked that it was shower time. I paced around the mats for another few minutes to cool down and then I followed the smell of fresh coffee to a giant Keurig machine and a platter of fresh fruits. I threw the towel over my shoulder and grabbed a handful of grapes in one hand and steaming cup of French roast in the other. Good morning, Sookie.

Stripping off the sweaty workout wear, I realize immediately that I'll probably need another set at some point soon. Maybe Pam will want to shop some time this week. The shower is glorious yet again, and I take a little extra time to dry and style my hair till it's as bouncy as I feel. I pull on a light blue skirt and a yellow blouse and the new silver flats. At ten to nine I pop back downstairs, grab another coffee for me, and one for Eric, and get a little wink and a wave from Marcia before I'm off to wake the beast.

After opening the door, he steps back to shut down the little workstation he's made for himself out of the dining table. Yup, that's a full length, seating for eight, dining table in a hotel room. I can see why he called mine "cosy." The décor up here is pretty much the same as mine, though the common space all seems to be twice as large. Is that a fireplace? There are two extra sets of pocket doors. So a multi-bedroom suite, I guess? This isn't even the top floor. Maybe this is one of those places that only offers suites. I follow him back to the table with a cheerful, "Good morning," and set his coffee down. He still hasn't said anything, but he hasn't made any ogre noises either, and he's plainly been awake for at least a little while. All in all, this is an improvement. His hair is still wet, and it's sticking to the back of his shirt in clumps, dampening it. I bite back the impulse to go sort him out. "Been up long?" I ask as I make my way back to hover by the foyer.

"A bit, yeah. Thanks. 'Morning," he mumbles, taking the coffee and tasting it tentatively. He takes a longer sip and then turns to look at me again, offering a louder, "Thanks," as he lifts the paper cup like he's toasting me. "Be a minute or two, sit if you like," he waves a careless arm at the room in general as he retreats into the bedroom. Even if this isn't his home, I feel a bit strange about wandering around his space in his absence, so I stay just where I am. He's only a couple of minutes before he re-emerges with his hair pulled back and with a fresh shirt. He arms himself with sunglasses and finishes his coffee in one long draught, leaving the cup on the table. "Ready to go?" he asks, sounding human.

"Yessir," I answer, and proceed him out the door and down to the elevator.

"What about you, good sleep?"

"Yes," I gush, smiling. I can't really elaborate.

"So do you know what kind of phone you want?" he asks, and when I'm unsure he begins a litany on the pros and cons of a dozen different models, pausing to ask me questions about the features I think I'd use. The conversation carries us happily along the five minute walk to the shop. He holds the door open for me, and I go in and approach the kiosk where the phones are all out on display. He'd told me to play with them to find one I like the feel of. I'm still toting around an old flip phone, so the touch screens and the built in keyboards are all a novelty to me. He's already up at the counter asking to see the coverage map for the state when one of the clerks approaches me.

"Can I help you find anything?" he asks, leaning against the counter beside me.

"Oh, I'm just trying to find the right fit really, I've never had one of these," I tries to hold up the phone I'm playing with, but it's tied down, so the gesture is a little abbreviated.

"You've never had a cell phone?" he gapes.

"Of course I have," I roll my eyes. "Just not one of these computer phones."

"Oh they're great. You'll never put it down." I nod politely. I'm excited about getting an upgrade, but I would never let myself be one of those people who are stuck to their phones all the time. It's just plain rude. I move away from the clerk and continue playing with the various phones, but he follows on my heels.

"Listen, I just need a few moments to look," I say, hoping he'll take the hint and step off. He nods in understanding, but instead stays put. Okay, that is a little annoying. I look over to Eric who's now leaning across the counter to get a better view of the screen the guy behind it is accessing. I hear him say Bon Temps, so I figure they're still trying to locate it. Yeah, I'm from a real small town. Trying to ignore my shadow, I pick up another phone and slide the keyboard out, testing out typing my name and a few random words. I move on to the next, still being followed at every step when suddenly Eric is right beside me, having wedged himself between me and my shadow. He lifts a hand tucks some of my hair behind my ear.

"So lover, did you find one that you like?" he asks, pretty loudly.

I turn to look up at him with a confused expression, blocked from anyone else's view by the proximity of his body. He jerks his head in the direction of the retreating sales clerk and smirks, "Told you so."

I laughed, stepping away from him, and hold up the design I like. He gives it a thorough looking over and then rounds the counter, staring down intently at the offerings. Finding what he's looking for, he beckons me over and hands me his selection. It's pretty indistinguishable from the other, as far as I can tell. "This one has a greater memory capacity so you can store more things," he explains, "And it has the double cameras so it's easier to video chat. It's newer in general, so you'll have a whole month or so before you're obsolete again," he finishes. I defer to his choice and wander over to pick out accessories. They have a pink case for it. It will be coming home with us.

Eric pulls another couple of things off the wall and holds them up as options for me to choose from, explaining that I can use one to tether, which the providers generally don't like, but he'll happily show me how to set up, and the other is the device they sell to do the same exact thing for a small additional fee. Since I'm skipping the landline anyway, and this is my whole internet package, and since, if I buy the company's product above board, they'll owe me any tech support I may need, I opt for that. He takes my old phone off me and pulls out the battery and the SIM card and I set to making all the arrangements for a new number while cancelling my old one. Throughout the entire process he is looming over me, offering encouraging smiles every time I look up. As I'm paying, he's already busy transferring my contacts into the new phone and putting it in its case. "I added me," he says, as he hands it over, and we head back to the hotel to wait for Pam.

"Feeling liberated?" he asks, as we walk.

I nod with a smile. "Thank you, Eric," I say, stopping to grab his hand a moment so he stops too. "You've been awesome. With that, and, in general. I really appreciate it." I give his hand another squeeze so he knows I mean it before letting it drop.

"You're welcome, Sookie," he replies.

"I need to send out a mass message with the new number, I think," I say as we continue walking.

He agrees and asks, "So what's left on the list?"

"I guess I'll want to top off the oil tank, and cable I guess, but..." It's just occurred to me this moment that we donated my old television to goodwill before we left for Seattle, and the new one was technically Bill's. "Oh. Well, maybe not cable. I don't think I have a tv anymore," and after a pause. "I need to figure out how I'm going to get my things."

He seems to mull that over. Back at the hotel we just park ourselves in the lobby to wait for Pam. He shows me how to look up and verify that her flight came in on time. That was pretty cool. I know that phones can do that now. I've used other people's phones, and Bill's blackberry to look stuff up, but it was really cool to have one of my own now. I was beaming down at it when Pam arrived in a flurry, trailed by two bellhops, each laden with her bags. "Morning Pam," I sung out cheerfully, standing up. Impossibly, she hadn't noticed us sitting there. She stopped and turned toward us abruptly, nearly causing a collision in the luggage train.

"Barbie! Fancy meeting you here," she smiled and leaned in, giving me a double air kiss. "And you brought Ken," she drawled, smirking up at Eric.

"Pam," he said, as if it were 'hey'.

Marcia was already headed over to us, Pam's key card in hand. She handed a second one to the bellman, and shooed the pair on while Pam settled down next to us in the little ring of comfy chairs.

"Eric, Cater's been on since the plane landed," she began. "They're sending over a whole focus for this afternoon. I was hoping the courier would beat me here, but it seems not. You're due there at one again, but you're going to want a couple of hours to familiarize yourself with their requests before you go in. It's obviously designed to unsmooth your cool since yesterday it was entirely on the financials where you know your shit and theirs in and out. This is all HR nonsense. They want to grandfather in their pension scheme for their execs only..." she was going a mile a minute and had started leafing through a sheaf of documents she'd pulled from a leather folio, thrusting one after another at Eric, who was engrossed.

I zoned out, and went ahead composing my mass text to inform my contact list of my new number. I dithered a little, wondering if I should also include my new, old address, but decided that that could wait, and kept it brief. Eric and Pam's phones chirped in unison a couple of moments after I hit send, but they both ignored it. I saw the courier wander in and over to the desk and watched as Marcia approached and waited patiently for their attention. After a couple of minutes I gave Pam a nudge and nodded over to Marcia.

"Oh good," she said, turning back to Eric and breaking into the manila parcel without further interrupting the stream of their conversation. I smiled up at Marcia and mouthed a "Thank you," to her, and she flashed me a smile before turning to walk away. I played with my phone a bit more as I waited for them to finish, which came abruptly a few moments later when Pam's stomach rumbled audibly.

"Right, food," she looked around as Eric began gathering up the papers that had spread onto the low tables in front of us. "Let's just go across the way then, they do those powdery sugar things and omelettes to order." I felt a little awkward as I followed in their trail out the lobby and across the street to a rustic little restaurant with a small brunch crowd. We ordered up a pot of chicory coffee for the table and a plate of beignets while we waited for our eggs to be served. I had two, and I seemed to be the only one eating as she continued briefing him.

They continued all through breakfast, completely ignoring me as she recounted every syllable this "Cater" person had uttered to her that morning, and he went over everything from yesterday's meetings that she'd not yet been caught up on. An hour later he decided that he needed some time alone with the courier package, and she thought she could use a shower.

"Sookie, I'll meet you at the spa at noon?" she asked, as we were stepping back on to the elevator inside.

"Hm?" I said, stirring from my reverie. It was literally the first thing she'd said to me directly since the Ken comment. "Mmhm. Noon," I answered. She gave me an odd look and we rode up in silence. I got off at five and saw her shooting him the same sort of look as the doors closed behind me.

I wandered back to my room to see that it was after eleven. There wasn't time to do anything big, so I replied to the few texts I'd received in reply to my mass message while we'd been at the table. My awkward, weird feeling was persisting and I was trying to pin it down. I wasn't really a stranger to sitting by while a table full of people talked business over my head, but it had felt different then. I decided it was because before I was always attached to Bill in those instances, both figuratively and usually literally. I guess arm candy had been a pretty accurate description. It made me feel pretty sad actually, and a little lonely. Not lonely for Bill. He was a lying, cheating, bastard. Just lonely in general.

I decided that since I'd be heading down to be pampered and beautified in an hour anyway, and I wouldn't be seeing Eric again until whenever o'clock tonight, that I had some leeway. I grabbed the box of the lotion-infused tissues from the bath and went ahead and let myself cry. That's what accounted for the red hot mess I was when I swung open the door twenty minutes later to find dapper, business suit Eric asking if all was well, since I'd been so quiet at breakfast. I'd figured it was the laundry service. Jesus Christ.

"Sookie?" he asked again, following me hesitantly. I'd thrown up my hands in annoyance, since it was just perfect, and retreated a few paces back into the room. "Did something happen?"

"No Eric," I sighed heavily, as I continued to try to mop myself up. "I'm just," and I waved my arms around, fists clenching used tissues, at a complete and honest loss to describe my state. Finally I let my shoulders slump feeling wholly defeated.

"I'm just Breakup Barbie right now," I said, trying hard to control my voice. "I'm a sopping, sobbing mess, and there's really nothing for it but to let it out."

He seemed to reflect on that for a moment. "Dinner tonight with me and Pam?" he asked.

"Sure Eric," I said.

"I should be done around the same time."

"Sure Eric," I said again.

"I'd offer another hug or something, but," he started.

I sighed, and gave him the closest thing to a smile I could muster. "Eric, just...go." After another minute, he did.