A/N: Crazy busy week, and difficult, setting it up to finish up chapter. Sorry about that. Also, new summary.

I was up at dawn on Friday morning, determined to continue riding high on the train of gettin' things done. I drove out to the hospital and wrote them a check for my bill in full. I stopped by the office of the photographer Crystal had selected and paid down the deposit. We hadn't talked about the money in our little planning meeting last week, but I just went ahead and decided that this would be my gift to them. They already had a house. I didn't know if Crystal was planning on registering anywhere, but I figured that between them they already had everything they needed. This seemed like a good thing to do for them. When I called Maryelizabeth to tell her of all my good works she was pleased, and then tasked me with keeping an eye out for suitable locations for the wedding pictures. I agreed of course - not that I could really refuse. This would be more difficult than simply hiring the photographer. At least I had some more time to come up with this one.

I headed back towards home but pulled over by the Loudermilk place (I was going to have to think of a new name for it) instead of turning in to my house. I left my car just off the road, sort of a landmark for whoever would be coming by. It turned out to be a genuine beefcake, and I don't throw that term around loosely. He was tall, though not quite as tall as Eric, and very muscular with the tan that men who work outdoors can't help but adopt, even this early in the summer. He had shaggy black hair and dark green eyes. I might have been intimidated, if it weren't for his warm, easy smile. That, and the plastic clipboard he carried. It's hard to look threatening wielding a clipboard.

"Sookie Stackhouse?" he asked me. He'd parked his truck by mine and was heading over to me.

"That's me," I say, offering my hand to shake his.

"Alcide Herveaux," he introduces himself. Surely this is 'and Son.' He is checking me out just as surely as I'd checked him out. I pretend not to notice. "So you've just inherited this property?"

"Yes, more or less," I agree. "It's come to me unexpectedly. I've got the place next door. I guess what I need to know from you is what it might be fit for. There's a house up there, hasn't been lived in for a decade, so I'm curious if that can be spared. The property...well, I don't know how much you can tell me about it. It's mostly woods, I think. I haven't really had the chance to walk around back there much. If I end up selling it, I figure the information I get from you guys will only help with that."

"Connie said it's all overgrown around the house?"

"Yes."

"Well, I got some tools in the truck if needs be. Let's go take a look. You wanna ride with me?" I shrug my assent and follow him back the short distance to his truck. You can't see the house from the road. It's mostly because of the woods and the way the drive curves. It's not far, maybe a quarter of a mile from the road to the house, but I suppose that's something of a hike back if he ends up needing whatever he's got in the back of the truck. He gets the door for me and offers me a hand up in a very gentlemanly gesture.

"You live out here alone?" he asks as he backs his truck up and turns down the driveway. Why Mr. Herveaux, we're a ways up from the creek if you're going to be fishing.

"For now. I just got hired down in New Orleans, so I'm looking to get my ducks in a row up here," I answer.

"I get down there from time to time," he tells me. "Most of our work is up here."

"Jason mentioned you do some work for the Parish," I say.

"Jason Stackhouse, right," he says in recognition. "Knew I knew the name from somewhere. Brother?"

"My one and only," I grin.

"Seems like a good guy," he supplies. I can't imagine he knows Jason very well at all or I'd have met him before. He's just being polite.

He lets out a low whistle as the house comes into view. We'd rolled real slowly over the broken driveway. I didn't know if was for my benefit or his truck's, the way he avoided hitting the bumps at any speed. This was a nice truck. I wondered if he babied it the way Jason babied his. Of course it could have been just general caution.

"It's a damn shame when old family plots like this go to ruin," he comments once we pull up and hop down from the truck. He goes back to the truck bed and gets a sledgehammer out, hefting it easily in his massive grip. Holy God, that's a menacing. I back away a few steps, almost instinctively. He catches the movement and turns his head fully toward me with a lazy grin. Somehow that does little to reassure me. Rationally, I know he must have some perfectly valid use for it, but it's still a bit of a startling image. Or sexy. Maybe it was that. It was something, anyway. Chuckling, he walks over to the front porch and brings the hammer down with some force on the first few steps in turn, then tentatively steps up. He was just testing the strength of the wood.

He turns around and gives me a smirk. "What'd you think I was going to splatter you across the gravel?" He doesn't wait for an answer before moving slowly across the porch, testing the boards with loud thumps. He finds several that give way as he goes.

"Only for a second," I call over, faintly relieved.

I walk a few paces over to him, he's hunched down in front of the windows trying to peer inside. He seems to be aware of my proximity, either by hearing or he caught my reflection in the glass. "Don't come up," he warns, snapping around and holding his hand up.

I watch as he walks carefully back across the porch, stepping in a very particular pattern. "I'm on the crossbeams," he explains. "A lot of these planks won't hold any weight."

"You got keys to this place?" he asks.

Huh. "Actually no," I say.

He nods. "Well, you could call a locksmith, or I can just shoulder my way in when I need to get inside and board it up afterwards. I won't do that today. I'm gonna take a look around the back."

Not knowing what else to do with myself, I ended up following him. I was glad I'd worn jeans. He pushed back a lot of the overgrown vines and brush with ease and I found myself just squeezing through behind him. He pointed out things here and there that he could tell just at a glance would be issues that needed to be addressed if I planned on doing anything with the house.

He did his hammer trick with the short stair leading up to the back door. After it sunk through two of the steps successively he pushed sideways on the post and the whole small structure slumped over. The backdoor was warped in its frame as well. We walked through the overgrown yard a bit and he examined the two outbuildings with cursory interest. One was a garage. The other was a newer building, likely a guest house or servants quarter. This was a home that would have had slave quarters, back in the day. Maybe there were some mouldering piles of lumber somewhere out in the woods that stood as monument to that fact, but those buildings wouldn't have been constructed to stand the test of time.

"Well, I'll need to get out here for a full day to take in the main house," he concludes after our turn around the main part of the property. We were back in the driveway. "The land is a separate thing. I can do some measurements, take the gradient, that sort of thing, but if you have no immediate plants to clear it or to build here, that amounts to a lot of information you probably won't use and don't need to pay for. I'll take in the main yard which will be useful if you decide to do anything to the outbuildings, or put in a pool, something like that."

"A pool, huh?" I ask. A pool so far beyond the things this property needs...

"Well, people put in a lot of pools. Most of my work is not this glamorous."

"Glamorous!" I laugh out. "Oh yeah, this is the height of fashion down here."

"Hey, at one time it was," he says with sincerity. "Even in the decay you can see this was a great old house once, and unless there's something serious going on in the foundation or the load-bearing walls, there's no reason it couldn't be again some day."

"Do you really think so?"

"Yeah," he agrees, nodding. Then he shoots me his boyish smirk again. "I'm actually prohibited by law from lying to you. It wouldn't be cheap, but it should be doable. That's just an initial opinion of course," he finishes, sounding slightly more serious.

"Out of curiosity, I know it's not your field exactly, but when you say not cheap..."

"Oh, a hundred thousand worth of renovations, easily."

I grimaced. It's not a flattering look for me but I couldn't help myself.

"That's minimum. You could do a lot more. But, it's a historic property so I'm sure there are a lot of tax credits and stuff. That's normally what draws people to places like this nowadays."

"Is it?" I ask. I really have no idea what he means.

"Well yeah. Hm. I don't know if this home is in the state registry, I'd have to check back at the office, but there's no reason why it couldn't be if it's not already. Have you had a tax assessor out here yet?"

"No."

"Well, that's a call to make after I do my work. Anyway, you're looking at about sixteen hundred dollars for the building survey and the structural survey." I gave him a nod. From the research I'd done, I was prepared for anything up to two thousand. "From there, I'll be able to tell you where to start. Even if you're not sure what you intend to do right away, the information is useful to have if you decide to try and sell it or something. A lot of times the buyer requires it before closing anyway."

"Alright, can we make the appointment now?"

"Uh, no, you need to call the office for that. Here, I'll give you my number in case you have any questions," he says. He jots it down on the back of a business card and hands it to me.

"Thanks. What do I owe you for today?" I ask.

"Nothing. We do a lot of these consults. You'll pay me after I've done some work. Well, you'll pay the company," he clarifies.

"Alright then," I say, and I hold out my hand. "Well, it's been a pleasure to meet you Mister Herveaux, I'll be calling."

"I'll be seeing you then," he tells me. I wave him off as he gets back in his truck and walk back down the driveway he drove down. A hundred thousand dollars at minimum, yeesh. Well, I didn't have that much, even if I sold the ring. Walking back down the little lane towards the road it struck me again how pretty the trees were through here. I snapped another picture of the scene, this time taking care to frame the shot. Maybe it could work for the wedding pictures. Beneath a big old live oak? That could be very pretty.

I reached my car and drove it back home, and once I was there I decided to put pen to paper and brainstorm my summer programs a bit more. I was liking the history focus since in a way it softened the maths aspect without detracting from it. I figured logic puzzles and things were the fall back. They could be fun, but, day in day out for three weeks? There wasn't really anywhere you could take that. There wasn't a lot to build on and it would become repetitive. I grabbed the kitchen notebook which had last been used by me to record Eric's musings on his inheritance.

When I opened it up though, I found it had been Eric himself who had used it. He'd made notes on the prospect of moving back to New Orleans, of leaving Area Five. He had all sorts of things I had never considered, like having to go through the trouble of rolling over his pension and company stocks and a lot of things to address with his lawyer; the many circumstances of being an owner of something. There were things that were illegible, and things that were unintelligible. Some were just random musings on what he'd do once he started running the Northman Group. It felt odd to read his notes, even if they weren't especially private. I wondered if he'd be more open about his day to day work in the new position. I turned a few pages away.

My phone seemed very determined to distract me this afternoon. It chimed frequently with emails and text messages from friends and acquaintances. I felt like quite the popular girl. I guess Arlene had been doing some chatting and people were aware that I was around more. I heard from Amelia, who sent a message saying that we needed to catch up soon. I guess that meant that she had news of some sort, but she didn't elaborate, nor let me know when a good time to call her was. Eventually I gave up on trying to get anything done and started responding to all the messages. I had an email from Jade Chou asking me if I'd be in town next week. She wanted to get together for lunch, and asked me to give her a call. I thought that one over before I phoned her back to agree. From any angle, it couldn't do any harm. I knew nothing about Eric's plans regarding the merger, so there was nothing I could accidentally divulge, if that's why she was being chummy. If it wasn't, well, maybe I'd make a new friend. I liked her, and I respected her taste. We got along.

We agreed to meet on Tuesday. There was a Trustees Meeting at Peterson late in the afternoon that day. It would be my first faculty function. A possibly-but-hopefully-not awkward lunch was just the ticket to distract me from my nerves on that score. I'd still have Tuesday morning free in case Claudine and I didn't see everything we needed to on Monday, or maybe to do the business of signing lease agreements, if I totally lucked out. I could only be hopeful. In that light, I didn't bother trying to get back to work. Instead I paid my bills, made the appointment to have Alcide come back, and started repacking some boxes, separating out things I wanted to keep here and things I'd want to take with me.

The following afternoon I was back with Eric. We didn't have any specific plans so I tried to call Amelia to see if she'd like to get together. She politely declined, so Eric and I were left alone. We ended up spending most of the afternoon cuddled up on the couch just chatting. I told him about Jade's call and he seemed surprised without being disapproving.

"I imagine she's looking to make more friends here in town, if she'll be working here."

"Will she be working here?" I ask.

"I believe so," he says.

"I hope she doesn't talk about her work," I say.

"She wouldn't," Eric says, with certainty. I know he respects Jade, even likes her on a personal level. (He'd compared her to me once, after all!) It's too bad he can't really afford to be friends with her himself. Huh. Maybe that explained in a nutshell why Eric didn't seem to have a lot of friends, given the distance he was forced to keep with most of the people he interacted with.

"Did your week end better than it started?" I ask him.

"It did," he inclines his head in a nod. "Peter Threadgill is getting more audacious. I think he'll be making his move in the next couple of weeks."

"Wouldn't it make more sense for him to wait until you're gone? Since you've got such a firm grip on things?"

"I don't think so actually. Even pushing me out earlier than I'd wished, Sophie Ann is going to need to stall things with Arkansas as my successor comes in. There will be a period of catch-up where nothing will move forward, and that's anticipated by all. But if Peter acts sooner rather than later, I just become a lame duck while the proverbial heads start to roll. He won't even need to manoeuvre around me after he takes over, because I'll just be a placeholder at that point."

"So how do you think he's going to do it?"

"Honestly? I think he'll do it at our AGM."

"AGM?"

"Annual General Meeting... it's when they elect the Board, and when they'll get official approval from shareholders about the merger, among other, lesser things. Normal business. He might wait until the reports from the second quarter come out, but he's got a flare for the dramatic, and he's cocksure. I'd bet on the general meeting, since he's been going after board members directly."

"So you're, what? Gonna scoop him at the AGM?" I grin. It sounds like such sneaky business. Maybe cause that's exactly what it is.

"We'll see."

"Will we? Do I get to come watch you pull the rug out from under him?"

He chuckles. "Would you want to?"

"It could be fun to see you in action."

"It would be interesting to show you. I don't know if you'd want to be there. Lorena Ball will be. Compton too, if he sorts out his criminal charges in time."

"Psh. She won't keep me away. What's she going to do, call me a white trash see-you-next-Tuesday in front of dozens of people?" I smirk. And yes, that's how I communicate that particular word, even when I'm quoting.

"Hundreds," he says, grinning, but it fades. "Wait, she called you a what?"

I shrugged. "Well, that's a bit of an amalgam. The c part she called me after I initially told the police on Bill. The white trash she called me on Wednesday. Along with a lot of other stuff," I tell him. Then replay some of the more choice phrases in my head again. "A lot of other stuff."

"She's never been a pleasant person. Sometimes you want that. She had her uses," he says quickly, "But I'm a little surprised she's acting so unhinged."

"She really was. I'd pity her if it weren't for... Well, no. Maybe I could never pity her," I finish stiffly. Since there's no reply that he can really make to that, he just rubs my arm a little in a soothing gesture. "In any case, I think it could be fun to watch your endgame."

"Then, tentatively, you can come."

I smiled at that, pleased that Eric would let me witness his big send off. "Are you gonna gloat?" I grin.

"I don't think I'll need to."

"Do you ever feel bad? I mean it's his life's work."

"Not at all."

"Explain that?" I ask.

"He loses nothing but control. In fact, he'll come out of it a wealthier man. But most of all, he's trying to do the same thing to us, as I'm trying to do to him. So why should I have any scruples?"

"And you could never just... talk it out, or something?"

He laughs out loud at that, jostling me a little in the process. "I'm just imagining if any deal I've ever seen had been run with everyone's cards on the table. No. It couldn't work. It's not about playing nice, it's about the bottom line. Personal rapport, it's a tool. It's not something to trust in. There is no trust when it comes to this much money."

I made a face. "That sounds faintly awful."

He leans over to kiss my forehead. "I'm glad that you think so really, but for me, it is almost fun."

"How does he know your dad? Peter I mean." I ask idly. Eric's business dealings don't really explain the way the families seem to know each other, so I figure I might as well ask.

"Oh, they've known each other for ages I guess. Since school for them. There's a personal rivalry there. I almost went to work for David after college."

"Why didn't you?"

"Location, and compromise."

"How so?"

"Well you know when I finished that my father and grandfather both expected me to come and work for one of them."

"Yes," I agree.

"So Peter was my extreme opposite. Then when I ultimately took the job at Area Five, that was the middle ground."

"Poor Peter, he is always the pawn in your schemes," I smirk. Poor is really the last word you can use to describe Peter, in any sense. My tone conveys that.

"Well since he only offered me the job in the first place to spite my father...no."

I rolled my eyes and smiled. "Your whole world is very complicated. I think I would get tired of it."

"Do you?" he asks. He pulls away to look at me as he waits for his answer.

"Of course," I say. "I can't even imagine what it would be like to look at everyone you meet as some sort of chess piece."

"Most of them are."

"That's an ugly way to look at the world," I say.

"Every sphere has its players and its politics, Sookie. Social, professional...even in academia you are not isolated from this."

"I don't involve myself in all that," I say. Of course I know that even in schools there are politics and teachers are sometimes called upon to participate in pushing forward a collective agenda, or pushing back against one. I mean what I say though, I don't get into it. I'm there to teach. My interest is educating, and that's it.

He laughs again, and it comes across as harsh laughter to me. He stops himself when he sees my wounded expression. More kindly he says, "You are involved whether you wish to be or not." After a moment, "I thought perhaps that's why you were falling in with Mitz Pirrie and that set. I know you didn't want the leg up with work," he says quickly. "And I respect that. But socially of course, these are the grand dames."

"Are they?" I ask. "I mean I know they're society ladies, but I don't really have the measure of all that."

"Well, yes," he says, sounding a little sceptical. "And as you know, they don't just sit around playing bridge."

I shrug it off, literally. "They should try it. Gran was big for bridge."

"I figure your Gran was pretty much a grand dame within the sphere of Bon Temps."

"No," I say, shaking my head. "We have our own rich old families, even in Bon Temps. Gran was no Caroline Holliday or a Marcia Albanese. Just a well loved woman," I finish fondly.

He gives a little sigh seeing his comparison falls short. I gave him a little pat, for the effort. He'd been trying to pay her a compliment, I think, in his way. "But no, I'm not looking to climb the social ladder down here, or anywhere, really. They just seem like nice people, apart from the meddling of course."

"I can't decide if you're naïve or fortunate," he frowns.

"Fortunate," I say, poking his ribs.

"Hmm," he murmurs, with some finality. Then he pulls me closer to him even as he squirms at my tickling fingers. We stayed like that into the early part of the evening. Pam would have sneered had she caught us this way, being so blatantly cutesy and couple-y, but she was off doing her own things. Eric said he'd booked her into the spa again. The lazy Saturday is a welcome break for both of us, and I felt like I had one, despite having spent the morning driving down here. We went out dancing again that night and came home sweaty and exhausted and did a little more dancing in the shower together.

We went back to the explorer's society restaurant for brunch on Sunday, at Eric's suggestion. He asked for a menu when we were seated, and the coffee. He ended up ordering just the full breakfast anyway, and asked for beans on his toast. He ordered the same for me, without the beans. I raised an eyebrow at him, but he just shrugged with a grin and said he thought he'd try it. I figure he meant the beans and toast, not ordering for me. I'd ordered for him last time, after all. I haven't said much since we'd arrived. I'm very amused just watching him inhabit the space. Not just the way he'd patted the stuffed gazelle that was positioned between us at the table as we were seated, but the way he was both familiarizing himself with things, and being familiar. Obviously he liked it here. When the paper came, he split it up giving me the arts, local, and real estate sections.

"Are you sure you don't want arts? Less to grumble at in here," I say, trying to offer it back with a grin.

"I might as well know what they say," he explains.

"No diatribes," I tease.

"No cursing and no diatribes? Sookie, this is getting to be an awful lot of rules for the table."

"Don't forget no elbows," I say mildly.

He makes a point of leaning up in his chair and propping not one but both elbows on the table as he snaps open the business section, holding it up in front of him. I just stared at his defiance with a bland expression, which he can't see, of course.

"Eric Northman, were you raised in a barn?" I hiss, affecting a scandalized tone.

He peeks over the paper and glances at the gazelle, and then back to me, with a steady look. At that point we both cracked up.

"I feel like I should have a smoking pipe," he says, sitting back again. He rested his feet up on the wicker stool while we waited for our food.

"Maybe a tweed waistcoat?"

"I was thinking one of those khaki safari jackets with all the pockets."

"No, definitely the waistcoat."

"I'll have Pam call my tailor," he smirks. "And one of those big floppy dogs by the ottoman here," he speculates, still painting the scene in his head.

"Gonna have Pam pick one of those up too?"

"No, she'd bring me back something that fits in a purse. Or something that ends in 'oodle'. She is petty in that way." He says it fondly, and I can hear the smile in his voice though his face is obscured by the paper. "It's a thought though."

"Sending her on horrible errands? Has she been insubordinate?"

"Always. But no, maybe I could get a dog in a couple months. Once I am settled. I could run with it in the mornings," he pauses, thinking over his idea.

"What kind would you want? One of those big sheepdogs?"

"I don't know. Nothing too small though. The dog must fit the man."

"Won't you still be travelling fairly often though? What would you do with it?"

He sighs. Oops, I guess I took the wind out of his sails there. "I don't know. A kennel or something. Maybe I will just make all of our hotels pet-friendly. Or friendly to my pet, at least."

I chuckle. "It's a nice idea."

"Yes, we'll see, I suppose."

Our food arrived then and he ate with his usual gusto. He did not like the beans, so he ordered just a plain plate of toast when the waiter came by to check on us. I guess they're traditional, but not everyone likes them. Not me either, just to give an example. We lingered at the restaurant for a long time, and once we finally left we just walked around for a while. It was a lovely and uninterrupted day. It felt like a real treat.

On Monday at noon sharp I met Claudine Crane outside her office. She had a big cup of coffee for me, and I smiled as I realized that she'd remembered how I took it. Maybe she'd made a note in her tablet. I'd had time to work on my curriculum that morning after Eric and Pam left. Pam had joined us for breakfast and we had fun talking around her about tweed and poodles. She played along at being exasperated with the pair of us in a smiling way. We had chatted a bit about my forthcoming apartment hunt, which was a topic that interested both of them as either would be looking for themselves quite soon. If Ms. Crane worked out for me, she'd definitely be picking up two more clients. Claudine walked me over to her big luxury SUV. It was obviously more for the purpose of having space to transport her clients, than any off-road driving.

We had hits and misses. She had a long list for us to go through. One of the places, I just didn't like the look of, even from the outside. It was a small house and well kept but the houses around it were not. I knew instantly that I wasn't going to like it, but we met the landlord anyway and went inside and all the while I was unimpressed. As we got back in the car she asked me what I thought. I'd explained my initial impression and she chided me for not speaking up sooner.

"We don't have to see everything. If you know right away that something's not right, just say so."

"I didn't want to be rude," I smile at her apologetically. "I know you took care putting the list together."

"May I speak freely?" she asks. I nod at her to continue. "I'm working for you. I have no loyalty to these apartments and houses. It is more rude to waste your time, and mine, and the property owner's, touring a place that you already know you won't like. These are places, not people. You won't hurt their feelings if you don't like them."

"Alright," I agree with a nod.

It went a little smoother after that, and after a couple of other places I found I was able to more readily voice my likes and dislikes. Once the afternoon was wearing on we took a break and went over the remainder of her list. She had photos of most places, as well as the descriptions. I was able to eliminate two of them there and then. There were some listings which did not have photographs but sounded intriguing. One was from the internet, and the other was a private listing that had just come up that morning. We decided to check those out, since they were our wild cards. They could equally be gems or duds, and if the former, we wouldn't want to miss them. Gems, as it turned out. Well, the first one was an absolute gem. We never got around to seeing the second one.

We followed her satnav to the address, turning the corner off of a tree-lined street. The houses here seemed to be as guarded by the trees and landscaping as they were by the wrought iron fences. We turned into a short driveway and were met by the woman who presumably was the one Claudine had spoken with on the phone twenty minutes previous. I knew immediately that barring this being the site of some horrible triple murder, this was it. It had originally been the caretaker's home and was part of the same property as the large house we'd passed on the corner. It was cream coloured with dark shutters and slight hints of the Victorian style in the hipped roof and dormers and the overhanging eaves with subtle fretwork. It was modest by any standard, but I was very struck by the way it was nestled back among the trees that obscured it from the main house, and the surrounding houses. I loved the short driveway of paving stones that lead up to the blue front door. I can't even imagine the look of delight that must have been painted on my face.

"I think we'd like to see inside," Claudine said, almost chuckling.

It was small but well kept. I wouldn't need a lot of space, I reminded myself. The bottom floor was divided between a living room area and a large kitchen. There was not a lot of counter space, but room for a table, quite a lot like the kitchen at Gran's. Between the living room and kitchen were two doors. One was a powder room, the other was a laundry closet, with a washer and dryer stacked one on top of the other. That was a big plus. The other places we had seen only had the outlets and exhaust vents, and I'd have had to buy the appliances. I'd need a coat rack, there was no coat closet. The refrigerator was a no-frills plain white one, so it was hard to determine its age, but it was very clean when I peeked inside. The cabinets were a good size and there were probably more than enough of them to house my kitchen accoutrements. There was no dish washer, so I'd need a drying rack. The stove was amazing. It was footed, first of all, in the antique style, while being obviously new (it was way too clean, and also, it was electric). It had the standard four burners and a small stove with a warming cabinet on top and one to the side of the tiny oven. I examined it thoroughly.

"Do you like it?" the woman asked. She'd introduced herself as Madge outside. "I find this style so charming, but we just redid the kitchen inside very modern, and my decorator was not having it," she laughs.

"It's absolutely adorable," I confirm with a beaming smile. It is. Practical? No, but it's not like I'd be cooking Thanksgiving here, so it was really a non-issue.

I went up the single flight of stairs and found two bedrooms on either side of a short hall with a bathroom at the end. The bedrooms were equal sized and not large. My one thing with the bedrooms was that I wanted to get a California king-sized bed. Yes, I freely admit that it had something to do with Eric. However, I had also come to the conclusion, independently, that I enjoyed a big bed. Yes, certain very specific bedroom activities with Eric had spoken to this decision, but it was still my own. I wanted it for me most of all, and that it would suit him as merely a big plus. So I asked about the previous beds that had been in here, because I was having trouble guesstimating whether or not such a mattress could fit up the stairs. At that point, Claudine produced a tape measure and started pacing through the hallway.

I wandered off into the bathroom which was tiled on the floor with one inch blue tiles, and tiled halfway up the walls with white rectangles, almost like bricks. The walls were white. There was a huge claw foot tub, and a separate, tiled shower stall that was tiny. There was a single pedestal sink, but a ceramic cup and toothbrush holder and a soap dish were affixed to the walls. The mirror over the sink was one of those push open cabinets. There were two simple sconces at either side of it. There was a single high half moon window above the tub, with a vent discretely beneath it.

"I love this," I said out loud. My voice echoed back at me from the empty walls. Claudine and Madge appeared in the bathroom doorway.

"Where do I sign?" I beamed at them.

"Well dear, come down and we will talk," says Madge.

A flicker of a frown crossed my face but I forced it away. I hoped she wasn't about to tell me I couldn't live here. She ended up telling me I couldn't live here yet. She wanted to do a credit and background check, and she wanted a reference from my last landlord. These were reasonable requests I figured. The background check was maybe a little odd, but I suppose since I was living on her personal property, it made sense. She had forms for me to fill out which were fairly extensive. I wished I had thought of getting a letter from Bill's and my old landlord ahead of time, that would slow this process down a bit. I tried to sound eager, rather than anxious, and stay positive. This was turning out to be a bit like an application and an interview.

She asked many questions about me, and I tried to keep up and ask some of her in kind. She wanted to know if I had pets. She told me a cat would be okay, if I ever wanted to get one. She explained what she called "her thoroughness" by the fact that she and her husband were not normally in New Orleans during the summer months apart from the odd week here and there. She told me that their old tenant had been a young professional man who had been free to use their patio in the summer months as well, in exchange for looking out for the property. As she explained it, this seemed to equate to no more than being a contact for their security company in case the alarm was tripped. That seemed fine to me. She casually asked if I anticipated any frequent overnight guests. I hope I managed to pull of demure as I admitted I had a steady beau.

She said I could drop off my reference at the front house any time this evening or tomorrow, and I found myself apologizing that I hadn't come prepared with it. Madge said she understood that it was a little old fashioned, but she felt assured by the personal recommendation. We shook hands as we left.

"Oh my God, I hope I get it!" I gushed, when Claudine and I were alone in her car.

"It's a lovely place," she observes.

"It's perfect," I say.

"It will be a tight squeeze getting your bed in."

"But doable?" I ask.

"Should be, if you angle it."

"Claudine, you are awesome for finding this."

She smiles over at me. "Tell your friends," she says with a wink.

"Oh, I will. My boyfriend and his assistant will be relocating back here within the next couple of months. I'll definitely push them your way."

"Thanks," she says. "So you can bring the letter to me and I'll drop it off first thing in the morning."

"You will? That's lovely."

"Yes. She's going to give me a copy of her lease agreement as well, so we can look over that while she's deciding. And I can do my professional curiosity thing to try to find out how many other people she's seeing about the place, which she might not want to tell you directly."

"I hope nobody."

"We'll act as quickly as we can, that place will go fast I think."

Claudine dropped me off at my car and I immediately called my old landlord and had a very awkward conversation wherein I explained that I was looking to rent a new apartment and really needed letter of reference ASAP. Of course, I had to talk about Bill a bit, when he, the landlord, had inquired how Mr. Compton was doing, and expressed concern that Seattle hadn't worked out for us. I said as succinctly as possible that it was only me that Seattle hadn't worked out for, and prayed he wouldn't push the point. He didn't. He agreed to write the letter and said I could pick it up in the morning. I wanted to demand he write it tonight, while I come sit and watch. I would ensure that he mentions that our rent was never late, not even once, and how I spent a full day after we'd completely moved out just cleaning the walls, floors, cabinets, and everything else. Hopefully he would cover those bases.

I spent the whole of Monday night filled with jittery anticipation. I was annoying to the point that Eric had to distract me with sex. Had to. He explained this was exactly what he was doing, so it wasn't sneaky or sly like Amelia had intimated. I appreciated the gesture. I do not think I would have fallen asleep if he had not exhausted me. I'd told him all about the little house and how it was perfect. He was pleased on my behalf. He asked how long the lease was, what utilities were included, if I would be getting renter's insurance. He thought it was great that the oven was cute, but was far more hung up on the practical things. I knew these were sensible concerns he was voicing, but it was a little deflating, and besides, this was why I had Claudine. I had to catch myself before getting mad at him when he innocently asked if I'd seen anything that might serve as a suitable second choice, in case this one didn't work out. It was shortly after that when I'd been carried to the bedroom.

I was up and out before Pam showed up on Tuesday morning and after thoroughly alarming my old landlord, I made it to Claudine's office by nine to drop the letter off. She assured me that she'd get a time-frame and be in touch as soon as she knew something.

Lunch with Jade Chou was interesting for a couple of reasons. The main one being that it turned into a lunch with Jade and Peter Threadgill. When I met her at the restaurant she had barely enough time to tell me that he'd more or less invited himself along. She shot me an apologetic little look as she explained that when she'd casually answered his question about her lunch plans he said it sounded great. This more or less put the kibosh on the girl-time I'd been hoping for. Jade seemed to tend towards silence when her boss was present. It didn't turn in to a particularly unpleasant hour, but there were more than a few uncomfortable moments.

"It's certainly nice to see you again under more pleasant circumstances, Miss Stackhouse," Peter says, once we were seated.

I nod my agreement.

"I must say I am surprised by the way things were handled with all that. I would have assumed that Sten's company would have gone to Viktor, him being in the same business," he continues.

"Mm. I don't think I know the family well enough to comment, but I believe Mister Northman had always hoped Eric would follow in his footsteps."

Peter barked out laughter at that point. "Yes, that is certainly true. I nearly swayed Eric to Arkansas at one point early in his career, you know. And now just before the merger he is snatched away, again, by a Northman," he said, almost ruefully.

"I know Eric is disappointed he has to give up his own work," I said carefully. "But he is too responsible to let the Northman Group fall by the wayside."

"Certainly, certainly," Peter acknowledged. "But it's more the pity. I've certainly enjoyed working with him throughout this little venture. The boy keeps me on my toes." Again with 'the boy,' I bristled inwardly.

"I'm sure it would flatter him to hear you say so," I agree.

"Eric tells me you've found a job down here?" Jade supplies.

I shoot her a grateful smile for the very timely subject change before turning to Peter. "Yes. And actually Mister Threadgill, in a roundabout way, I think I have you to thank for it."

"Is that so?" he asks intrigued.

I explained to him my new position at Peterson Academy. He seemed tickled that I'd managed to secure the job we'd spoken of so many weeks ago at dinner. We talked about some of the other schools in the city, comparing their virtues. He was impressed that I'd been offered a position at Hestia, one of the schools that had been considered for his daughter, Laura. I omitted the bit about how it hadn't really been a real offer.

"I understand you're acquainted with some of my recent acquisitions, as well?" Peter says.

Oh dear. "I'm sorry?" I ask, feigning ignorance.

"Bill Compton and Lorena Ball," he says, clarifying unnecessarily. "We've just brought them in to head up our software department."

"Yes, Bill is my former...well. Yes, I know them," I say, hoping to impress upon him with that simple statement that this is a sore subject.

"Of course Area Five was none too pleased to lose them," he goes on.

"Yes," I say, since I have nothing else to say. "This is really a lovely wine, is it from California?"

"No," Peter says. "Australia I believe?" he checks the bottle then nods his agreement. "Yes, New South Wales. Very crisp."

"Mm, perfect for a light meal, yes," I agree.

"Are you more or less fixed in town now, Sookie?" Jade asks.

"Not quite yet. I'm waiting to hear back about this little house I'd like to rent. It's tucked away in the Garden District, it's just perfect for me."

"I've considered whether or not to buy down here," Peter says.

"I imagine you'll have more use of a house, once the merger is complete," I say.

"Maybe a bit," he agrees. "I plan on installing David down here to oversee... well, he'll be here to act as my primary liaison," he says. That was probably a little bit of a slip up. For a moment he looks mildly uncomfortable, though I don't think he would have any idea that I'd pick up on it. "I'll still be centred in Little Rock in the main."

I see Jade's eyes widen momentarily, and I know that whatever he has just said surprised her as well. I don't know what to make of it, but I'll surely be telling Eric.

"I wish I could buy down here," Jade says. "The corporate apartments are very nice, but they are not really designed to feel like home, just more of a home than a hotel room."

After that we kept the conversation much lighter and far from the subject of their work. I was glad of it. It hadn't escaped me that Jade had been useful in steering us from the conversation's sensitive points. Peter paid the bill, which was nice of him. He had his car to carry him back to his office, and Jade and I were finally left alone for a few minutes.

"Well, that was not quite what I had planned," she said.

"He's certainly a lively dining companion," I chuckle.

"Perhaps we can try to do this again. It would be very nice to get to know some people down here."

"So you won't be going up to Seattle?"

"Oh, no. I will be here, on David's team."

"Well, it's a great city," I say. "Please do call, I'd love to try getting together another time, sans bosses."

She chuckled at that. We said our goodbyes and I headed over to Peterson. Since I didn't know anyone else, I found Headmaster Keeting in a small group and was introduced and shook hands with two other teachers and one trustee. The meeting was actually very boring. It was a lot to do with the school's finances and fundraising and certain planned events and large expenditures that would be made. I remained attentive, but it was a small struggle at points not to let my mind wander. The only part that was specifically relevant to me was the brief note that I had been hired as a full time faculty member, along with two other teachers, one along with me in the upper school, and one in the lower. Afterwards I hung around for a few minutes, making a point to meet some of the other trustees and parents. I was eager to get back to Eric and tell him about the lunch, and so I felt free to leave once I realized that most people were doing so. It had been two and a half hours of not very much interesting, but I had done my duty in being present and starting to meet people.

Eric wasn't in his room when I'd got back, so I shot him a message to ask when he'd be around. He didn't respond right away, so I gathered he was quite busy. I settled down with a book and found myself frowning at Lady Adalaide DuChamps. Her so-called quandary about the suitableness of Lord Astermarque was quite uninteresting. The guy was obviously a slimeball, handsome or not. I hoped her elderly grandfather would hurry up and die so that she would be free to defy her noble birth and marry Stefan, the royal messenger.

My phone buzzed, interrupting my romantic musings. I was expecting Eric, but it was Amelia.

"Hey Amelia," I answered.

"Hey Sookie," she said. She sounded upset, possibly like she'd been crying. "Are you in town?"

"Yes," I say, with concern. "What's wrong?"

"Could you... do you think you could come over? I could really use some company."

"Of course," I say. "Is everything alright? Are you alright?"

"I'm fine. Not really. I don't know."

"I'm coming right now," I tell her, and wait for her to acknowledge that before hanging up.

I was going to leave a message for Eric, but I wasn't sure what to tell him, so instead I left a note that simply said I was at Amelia's and would call him later on. When I arrived I went ahead and let myself in, calling out to her.

"In here," I heard her call, from her bedroom.

I paced down the short hallway and found her on her bed wrapped in a blanket. She looked like she might be sick, but I could also see I'd been right about the crying. I sat on the side of her bed.

"Amelia, what happened?"

"I'm being stupid," Amelia sighs.

"I'm sure you're not, but what is wrong?"

"Penny doesn't want to see me anymore. She told me last night," my friend laments.

"Oh, hun, it will be alright," I say. I lean over and rub her arm in a soothing gesture, but she shrugs me away.

"She said it just wasn't working out. I thought it was working out."

"What did she say?"

"She said she couldn't be with me because I've been with men. That she didn't want to get close to me, because she was always going to be afraid I'd leave her for a man. That every time we went out...she couldn't get over the idea that I was checking out guys. I don't think I was...maybe I was. I don't know, you notice attractive people, don't you?"

"Of course you do, that doesn't mean you're going to leave the one you're with," I console.

"She said she could never get serious with someone who is bi...and I haven't wanted to be serious with anyone ever really, since Tray..." Tray had been Amelia's boyfriend way back in high school. He had been older than her, college aged. Probably too old to have been dating a girl in high school, and he'd died. I know she loved him, as much as a seventeen or eighteen year old girl can be in love. I know this had something to do with the way she was never interested in settling to one person and that the times she had done so had been short lived. This even, with this girl, apparently Penny, had been short lived. This was about the time Amelia, in her normal course, would want to move on. I supposed the fact that she realized she hadn't wanted to, when Penny did, had hit her very hard.

"I'm so sorry, Amelia," I soothe.

"After we talked last night, I went out, and I went home with this guy named Derrick," she confesses. I felt my lips tighten. It was the best I could do not to frown at her. She wasn't looking me in the eye as she spoke, so maybe she didn't see. "He's called me twice today. I'm so not interested, he was just...comfort."

"Ah, Ames," I pulled her up and pulled her into a hug. "I wish you'd called me."

"I didn't know if you were with Eric, and I didn't...want...to see you. I know you're so happy and things are starting to go so well. And Lafayette too and even Tara. I just couldn't face that last night."

"You need to be with someone who's more secure. It hurt last night, and it hurts today, but it's for the best that this happened right now, and not much later. I know that's no consolation in this moment, but," I start to say.

"I know. I know. It just feels like crap right now. She seemed so perfect. We were having so much fun." I hear her voice start to tremble as she finishes.

"I know," I shush her. "It's okay to like someone. It will be okay."

I stayed with her, rocking her back and forth, until she decided to get up and get in the shower. She did cry. It's not something that I have seen very often in our long friendship, and it's not something that I've ever seen over someone she's been dating. I figured there was a lot more going on inside her head, reasons this had hit her so hard. I could only hope that she'd come out of it better. While she was in the bathroom I called Eric and told him I was going to stay here tonight. I'd planned on going home tomorrow, but I'd also brought some extra clothes since every time I was down here I ended up feeling the pull to stay a little longer for one reason or another. I'd go pick them up tomorrow. I didn't go into any detail with him. We said we'd talk later.

After we hung up, I went ahead and fixed some dinner for Amelia and I, just soup and sandwiches. She came out dressed in sweats and even that spoke to her mood, since she always had cute things, even in pyjamas. She looked worn out, and while I wanted to talk more, I just left it for now. I'd stay, and she'd talk when she was ready. We watched mindless reality television and she told me she was taking a personal day tomorrow. I offered to keep her company. We didn't stay up very late. I made up the bed in her guest room after she went to sleep. I debated sending an email to Lafayette to let him know what had happened. He'd want to know, but I ended up deciding it wasn't my news to tell. I fell asleep feeling lucky and sad.