Chapter 3 –

"Why do you want to win?" I asked, taking on a serious turn so fast it made my head spin.

"Because the stakes are too high for me," he replied, running his finger down my tear-stained cheek.

Three. Two. One. Lift-off and Laugh-off!

I laughed so hard I snorted. Very unladylike, I know, and it would probably piss him off, but he's a vampire! And he said 'stakes'!

"Boy, you're on a roll tonight Bill!" I said between whoops and snorts, "Maybe you should take this act on the road."

He just stared at me.

That made me laugh some more.

Until I realized that he'd gone into Vampire downtime mode. No fair! I was gonna tune him out for starting a serious conversation, not the other way around!

"Bill? Hey Bill? Earth to William Thomas Compton?"

He just sat there, staring off at . . . nothing. Asshole!

I nudged him with my foot, which kinda hurt since it was like jamming my toes into concrete. He didn't budge, or give me any sign that I'd gotten his attention.

I thought about trying to wait him out, but that would be stupid. Vampires could be patient. They had forever. Sighing (and fighting like hell not to laugh again), I looked up at him with my sad puppy dog eyes and said, "Bill, I'm sorry. You were saying?"

I blinked my eyes and he was gone. Like, gone. He did that Vampire thing and left. I was stunned.

I was naked.

And I was still tied up.

"BIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIILL!"

After yelling for what I guessed to be five minutes straight, I ran out of voice and breath. Luckily I still had my buzz, otherwise it would be super panic mode. Admittedly, it took a lot more to get me panicky these days. Another fabulous side effect of my crazy life with crazy supes and their crazy-ass, deadly adventures.

He wouldn't leave me like this forever, would he?

The phone was out of reach, and I'd left my mobile at home. I hadn't exactly had a pocket handy. I spied a remote control just in reach of my right foot, if I stretched. And what do you know? Bill had a TV in his room. Of course, he'd cleverly hidden it in an old chifforobe, but the door was ajar and I could see most of the screen.

Now if I could just turn it on . . .

Got it!

Shit! Of course he'd have the most complicated cable plan with the complicated menu. I needed my hands for this. Damn it!

After some serious contortionist maneuvering that would probably leave me sore come morning (and not in the fun way), I managed to lift the remote with my feet and drop it into my right hand. Too bad it made the shawl ride up, leaving my lady parts exposed. I'd just have to cross my legs and try to stay warm.

I had a hard time, not being able to see the buttons and all, but I finally got to the option that lets you channel surf. Hey! Animal Planet! My favorite show! At least I'd be entertained while I waited for Bill to quit pouting and get his ass back up here.

"Hey Bill! If it's not too much trouble, how about you bring me some popcorn? And a coke."

No reply. He was soooooooooo stubborn. If I were to be honest with myself, that was at least half our problem. We were both obstinate (word of the day) and determined to outdo each other. I enjoyed it in the bedroom, of course, but it made our arguments pretty nasty.

The sooner we got done with this one, if it even was an argument, the sooner we could get to the make up part. I shivered, remembering the way we'd made up after Dallas, back before what we had went all to hell.

I was getting pretty antsy, and uncomfortable. Plus I needed to pee. Time to pull out the big guns.

"Bill Compton, you come up here right now and untie me, or so help me God I'll pee all over your bed! I mean it!"

I waited.

"Don't think I won't! I crumpled Alcide Herveaux's clothes with my ass not too long ago and by golly I'll piss so big that you'll never get the smell out of your mattress!"

"You would, wouldn't you?" he said. Right up in my face.

I screamed. I couldn't help it. And I almost peed on his bed by accident.

"That wasn't funny, Bill."

"Sookie?"

"Yeah?"

"What. On. Earth. Are. You. Watching?"

"Hillbilly Handfishin' and don't you dare say a word about it!"

Bill fell back on the bed and laughed. I mean, he laughed so hard I thought he might pee himself, if Vampires peed, that is. That was my first sign that we might just be O.K.

But I wasn't going to let him off easy.

"This coming from a man who listens to Kenny G? Who sleeps naked with Elvis Presley in a hole in the ground? Who TiVos . . . Jersey Shore?"

The last part got him. "How did you know about that?" he asked, wiping the bloody tears from his face.

I found it while I was messing around with your remote control.

"I sometimes watch it before I go out hunting," he said, "then I don't feel so bad about glamouring dimwitted humans and taking their blood." At least he looked sheepish.

"Oh, I get it. But I was serious about needing to pee."

Bill untied me and let me walk to the bathroom. I tried to pee all quiet, but I knew he'd be able to hear me. Why that should bother me was anyone's guess. Hell, he'd once helped take me to the bathroom when I was stuck in the hospital.

He'd also spent time sitting with me at various hospitals, keeping me company. He'd wrapped me in his arms and held me so I could sleep, asking nothing of me in return. And the last time we'd both been in the hospital together . . .

I flushed, washed my hands, and took a long look in the mirror. He would have died for me. He almost died.

I needed to stop thinking so much if I was going to stay horny. I would rather be horny than sad. But, of course, I was gonna have to deal with all of this stuff sooner or later. It seemed like Bill wanted to deal with it sooner.

I walked back out and sat down next to him. I was still naked, but to his credit he looked me square in the eyes rather than ogling my unclothed body. My buzz was wearing off, which would probably make the conversation harder.

As if he'd read my mind, Bill handed me a glass. It was Bubba's Courvoisier, on the rocks. I was about to take a swig when he spoke.

"Just promise me you'll stay reasonably sober, O.K.? I'm not sure I'll be able to do this again."

"Promise me you'll take care of me when you're done?"

"Promise me you'll hear me out?"

"Yes," I whispered.

He nodded and offered me my clothes. It stung, but then he said, "This is not a rejection, Sookie. I want you. You know that."

"Yeah," I muttered as I pulled my pants on. After I'd pulled my shirt over my head, I saw that he was looking at me. Intently.

"I think one of the greatest mistakes I made where you are concerned is pushing you away when things got rough. I should have told you everything, no matter how hurtful. I owed you honesty. I didn't pay you that debt. For that, I am truly sorry."

I nodded. I shouldn't feel bad. He did owe me an apology. I suspected he'd be giving me a few more, as much as I dreaded rehashing the specifics. Still, I couldn't help but feel . . . unworthy. Crazy, I know, but that's the first emotion that flashed through my mind.

Bill seemed to sense it, since he reached for me and pulled me into his embrace. He stood and held me, asking nothing in return. No taking. Only giving.

I sooooo did not want to cry.

"I do not wish to cause you any more pain, Sookie. I only want to heal the hurt between us. Once we do that, you may choose to stay or to go. I'll ask nothing from you."

I nodded, rubbing against his chest with my face.

"Do you want to stay here, or do you want to talk downstairs?"

"Here's fine."

Bill let me sit at the head of the bed, my back propped with pillows that he arranged with great care. He sat facing me, maintaining a respectable distance. He opened his mouth to speak, but I first blurted out, "Could you just do the blanket version of an apology instead of dragging out . . . everything?"

That was bad of me and I knew it. But I just couldn't think about what happened in the trunk. I'd buried it deep in the recesses of the places-I never-wanted-to-revisit file in my heart, right next to Uncle Bartlett. Plus it was too complicated. And I knew it had hurt him, too.

His eyes let me know that he understood what I meant, as did the red Vampire tears swelling around them. He nodded and said, "Yes. I read a very interesting book recently - one written by a dying man. He said that proper apologies have three parts."

A beat of silence passed before he started again. "What I did, all I did, was wrong."

I nodded.

"I feel badly that I hurt you." His voice broke. The tears fell then, for both of us.

I nodded again. I believed him. He was truly sorry.

"How do I make you feel better, Sookie?"

I thought about it. He'd atoned as far as I was concerned. That wasn't the issue. The issue had been the first part, and the second. He'd admitted he was wrong. Out loud. To my face. Finally. As much as it may have wounded his pride and bruised his ego, he was finally man enough to face it. And I was finally woman enough to listen.

That was what had bugged me earlier, I realized.

"I'm sorry I didn't listen before. I'm glad I'm listening now."

"I'm glad, too, Darling. But I still need to know what I can do to atone."

"You've atoned and then some, Bill. As far as making me feel better, aside from the obvious," I said, waggling my eyebrows and giving him a naughty smile, "I think I'd like to laugh with you a little more."

He raised one arched brow, which looked pretty funny on his tear-streaked face. "I'm afraid I don't know many jokes, Sookie, at least not contemporary ones. I was never good at telling them anyhow."

"You don't have to tell me jokes or do stand-up or slapstick or anything like that. You just don't . . . laugh enough, Bill Compton. We never laughed enough. You probably don't know this, but when we first met, you know, after the drainers and all . . . I was mesmerized by the sound of your laugher. It was rusty, like you didn't use it."

"I didn't often, before I met you."

"It was one of the things I always loved about you."

A spark of hope ignited in him, and it lit up is beautiful face. "What do you suggest?"

I bounded off the bed and started digging through the drawers of his chifforobe. Rude, I know, but after all we'd been through and the conversation we'd just had, I figured he wouldn't mind. I pulled out what I wanted and turned back to face him while keeping the contents of my hands hidden behind my back.

He just sat and stared. Good grief, did he need me to draw him a diagram?

"O.K., Bill, this is a little game where you pick what's in one hand or the other."

He looked wary, which made me start giggling. That broke the tension a bit. But he still didn't pick a hand.

"Come on, Bill! I'm not asking you to disarm a nuclear missile or write a thesis on the meaning of life, for Pete's sake!"

"I'll take the left."

I pulled out the DVD with a sense of triumph. This was going to be fun.

"You have got to be kidding me . . ."

"Oh lighten up! It'll be fun! Go get some popcorn for me and a True Blood for yourself and I'll pop this baby in the DVD player."

He just sat there. Stubborn jackass! I'd have to make him pay later. The fun way!

"Listen up, buddy! You asked what I wanted, what would make me feel better, remember? Were you just blowing smoke up my ass, or did you mean it?" I asked, hands on my hips, right toe tapping.

He heaved a sigh, got up, and walked to the door, "I'll have to run out and get some popcorn. Any preference?"

"Movie theater butter flavored. It's the best! And . . ." I said, walking over to him and planting a kiss on his cheek, "so are you. Just wait! You'll love this!"

He rolled his eyes, but he also smiled. Then he vanished.

I did a little happy dance and popped the Mel Brooks flick into the DVD player.

Dracula: Dead and Loving It.

This was going to be a super fun night!

A/N – The book bill references is The Last Lecture by Randy Pausch.

I know, I know, I had to go and get all serious - but I promise more fun, more funnies, and eventually I'll get to the lemons. Remember, kids, anticipation makes the eventual reward sweeter . . .

BTW, Hillbilly Handfishin' is a funny show, I don't care who you are.

But remember, friends don't let friends watch Jersey Shore.