Chapter 7 –

Beep beep beep beep beep beep beep beep beep

"Oh God, what the hell is that?"

Shit! I knew what it was. It was my damned alarm clock! When had I set it? Why had I set it? I don't remember setting it . . .

I hadn't! I sat up and immediately regretted it. My head was pounding, my mouth tasted like moldy ass, and I felt dizzy. My fuzzy brain tried its best to turn itself on and remember how I got here.

I'd been at Bill's place. I'd been drinking. A lot.

Oh God! I had the mother of all hangovers.

And I hadn't even gotten laid!

I eased back down on the bed and waited for my head to stop pounding and my stomach to settle. While I waited, I went over what had happened. We were about to get our freak on, Bill and me, when we got interrupted by Sam Merlotte and his stupid Werewolf girlfriend on account of them getting skunk sprayed while going all Wild Kingdom out in the woods. Bill and I had driven (well Bill drove, since I was drunk) to my place, and we grabbed every last Mason jar full of canned tomatoes (including the ones that my late Gran had canned) in the pantry and took them back to his place. He'd left me on the couch while he tended to Sam and what's-her-face.

I felt sorry for him for about thirty seconds. Hell, Vampires had keen senses, so I could only imagine how unpleasant it had been for Bill, dealing with Eau du Wood Pussy on top of Shifter/Were smell.

Then I realized that I must have fallen asleep on the couch while I waited for him to get back.

And he didn't wake me up. Not only that, the bloodsucking bastard didn't wake me up the fun way! No wonder I had aches in my nether region to go along with the big one in my head! He'd given me the female equivalent of blue balls!

I stood up as slow and careful as I could, went to the bathroom to pee for about an hour (well, it seemed like it anyhow), stripped off my sleep shirt, and then got my grungy ass in the shower. Of course Bill hadn't washed me, or even put my panties back on. Even Mr. King-of-self-restraint had his limits. That made me feel a little better. The hot water helped, too, as did two rounds of toothbrushing. Now all I needed was coffee, a good breakfast, and possibly a stake.

I stumbled toward the kitchen and was surprised to smell the very welcome aroma of coffee brewing. Huh? I went to open the fridge so I could figure out what to scare up for breakfast when I spied his note, folded and secured under one of my many magnets. I decided I'd read it later. First, food and the caffeinated sweet nectar of the morning.

I got an even bigger shock when I opened the fridge.

There, in the middle of the second shelf, rested a tray upon which stood a tall glass of orange juice, a bowl of fresh fruit that was covered in plastic wrap, and a big bowl of yogurt. There was a little plastic baggie with what looked like granola on the side, and a goddamn vase with a flower in the middle on the other side – O.K., that was a nice touch, I'll admit. Beside the tray stood a liter bottle of water, one of those fancy Evian deals. Written on the front of the bottle in neat block sharpie letters was "Drink me, Sookie."

I also noticed a couple of ibuprofen sitting on the side of the tray.

Sighing, and grudgingly grateful, I pulled out the tray and put it on my kitchen table. I opened the bottle of water, took two big gulps, and swallowed my pills. I poured myself a cup of coffee and returned to the table, still marveling at the breakfast spread sitting before me.

Of course, it wasn't my usual fare, but either he remembered or had read (probably read) that greasy food and a hungover stomach don't mix. Either that, or he was trying to tell me that my ass was getting too big and that I needed to eat lighter. Maybe both. Still, he'd made breakfast for me. Vampire Bill made me breakfast.

Now Vampires hate human food, absolutely despise it. Don't ask me why, since they used to eat it for crying out loud, and considering what they lived on after . . . but something about the process of becoming undead makes them positively squeamish around it. Especially meat, which is probably the real reason why I didn't have sausage or bacon waiting for me. Still, he must have cut the fruit himself, and poured the OJ, and fixed up the yogurt and granola – hey, it actually tasted pretty good together – and set the coffee maker. This is pretty huge, since Bill had let me know – loudly and often – how much he hates human food.

Well, will wonders never cease?

Maybe I wouldn't get that stake after all.

I decided to go ahead and read while I ate – hey, I'm a multi-tasker - unfolding his note and traced the meandering lines of his old-fashioned cursive script.

Dearest Sookie,

I do not know how much of last evening you recall. Please know that nothing unseemly happened, so you have no need to wonder or fret.

(I snorted – no kidding, big boy! Not for lack of trying on my part, pal!)

If you do, in fact, recall our time together, then I'll wager you're feeling quite angry, perhaps embarrassed (though you needn't be), and perhaps a bit uncertain of my feelings for you. Understand this: it took monumental effort to keep me from taking you to my bed and ravishing you all night. I wanted you as fiercely as I believe you wanted me, and not only on account of your consumption of spirits. I'd like to believe that, but I could not in good conscience take your body while uncertain of your will. I realized that after I found you sleeping peacefully on my sofa.

You are worth far more to me than that.

(Aww damn! He had to go and get all mooshy! How the hell can I stay mad at him when he does that?)

I would very much like to call on you tomorrow evening, though I would request that you limit yourself to one glass of bourbon-spiked tea if you feel you must have a drink. In the meantime, you'll find breakfast in the refrigerator, and I set the timer on your coffee maker to coincide with your alarm. I do apologize for the latter, but as I could not be there to serve you myself, I choose this option to ensure it would be fresh. Please drink all of the water. I understand it helps, though in my days of soldiering we were admonished to take a shot of whiskey as a cure for overindulgence.

I do not recommend this.

(Oh ho ho! Did we do a little drinkin' back in the day, Billy Boy? I'd have loved to have seen that. Guess I'd have to wait until the next time he caught a Fae, though I definitely wouldn't wish that on anyone – except maybe Neave, but she already got what was coming to her.)

I do, however, recommend the bananas. I also left some Gatorade in your pantry.

(Great. Bill Compton - Farmer, Soldier, Red Hot Vampire Stud Muffin, Area 5 Investigator, and apparently he'd earned an M.D. in there somewhere . . .)

I took the liberty of connecting your computer to my high-speed wireless Internet router. You'll find your password at the end of this message. Change it once you logon the first time. That way, you're online business will be your own.

Perhaps you will thing me too forward, but I recently secured a new rental property between Bon Temps and Monroe. It is an old office complex and it needs a bit of work, but I thought you might find it suitable for a business venture.

You've used your talents for the Vampire and Were community, not to mention your own family, for years. While our Sheriff no doubt compensated you generously for your efforts, you could and should profit from your skills all on your own. Stackhouse Investigations has a nice ring, don't you think? There is definitely a market, and Supes are generally more trusting of their own kind than humans. A PI license isn't difficult to come by – you'll find an application on your computer desktop, and I would be happy to provide a reference.

(Hmm, taking a big risk there, Bill – suggesting what I might want to do with the office space you offered, and mentioning Eric. Either you're monumentally stupid, which I know isn't true, or you really are serious.)

I believe you'll find Mr. Herveaux more than willing to provide the labor and materials necessary for your office renovations – he's imposed on your hospitality on more than one occasion. By the way, try not to be too hard on him. Apparently Sam and Jannalyn weren't the only two-natured who experienced a bit of trouble last night. My apologies, but he was in no fit state to travel, and I really had nowhere else to put him.

I hope to see you after sunset.

All my love,

Bill

Okay, Bill. You had me until that last part. Alcide? I heard a loud groan and what sounded like a lamp being knocked over from my old bedroom. When I stepped out of the kitchen, I was just in time to see a naked (and very nice) rear end running from my room to the bathroom. The door slammed, and I heard the unmistakable sounds of last night's dinner in reverse.

"Hey, Alcide? You alright in there?" I asked as I knocked.

"Almost. Give me a sec, O.K.?"

"Sure thing. I left your pants outside the door. Want some Gatorade?"

"That'd be nice. Much obliged, Sookie."

I poured him a glass and left it on the table, and then figured I might as well dig into breakfast while I waited. Looked like this day was bound to be just as weird as yesterday. Hey! This yogurt granola crap is pretty good! My stomach had settled by the time the half-naked Were entered my kitchen looking about five shades of green.

"Sorry about the lamp, Sookie. I'll fix it. I did clean up after myself in your bathroom."

"No worries. You look like hell. What happened?"

"Full moon. I was out with the pack but got side-tracked looking for Jannalynn - "

"Oh, she was off with Sam."

He gave me a look of confusion, but then just shook it off. I get that a lot. Most folks assume I have psychic powers to go along with the telepathy. Better not elaborate, since Jannalynn probably didn't want her Packmaster to know she'd been skunk sprayed.

Though I was sorely tempted to tattle.

"Anyway, I guess I must've come across a carcass of some kind, and the wolf part of me just couldn't resist . . ."

"Oh good Lord! Say no more, just drink your Gatorade and be on your way!"

"Oh, right," he said, looking sheepish. "Sorry to impose on you again. I guess the Vampire didn't trust me in his house."

"Bill's pretty particular. If you'd broken his lamp, he'd have made you sorry."

"Right. Well, he did give me the address for your new office. I'll drive by on my way home and take a look. You have any preference on the interior?"

"Let me give it a think. Oh, and can you leave me the address as well? I sort of forgot where I put my copy."

"Will do, Sookie. Thanks for the bed and the hospitality."

"Anytime. You gonna be O.K. driving?"

"Yeah. It's not the worst thing I ever ate after shifting."

"I don't wanna know. Bye, Alcide."

"Bye, Sook."

I had a lot to think about, apparently. I probably needed to think about Eric, but I was still all kinds of mad and hurt. Luckily, I didn't have the blood bond to confound things anymore. And then there was this whole Sookie Stackhouse business-woman stuff. True, I'd had more fun solving Supe mysteries than I'd ever had in my life before, even in spite of the danger. Bill had always encouraged me to believe in myself and helped me hone my skills. I'd never thought of leaving Merlotte's; I kinda saw myself growing old and ornery like Flo off that show 'Alice,' working at the diner until I keeled over from a heart attack or something.

All alone.

That had been before Bill. It seemed I'd come full circle. I hated being beholden to him or anyone else, but the idea of being a PI did have a certain appeal . . . I guess it wouldn't hurt to look at the stuff he left on the computer, and to have a swing by that office . . .

I heard a scratching at the door that shook me out of my little moment of introspection. What the hell now? I decided it could wait until I grabbed another cup of coffee and finished the bottled water that Dr. Compton had so kindly prescribed.

When I opened the front door I felt pretty annoyed. No one was there. Then I looked a little to the left and Jesus Christ Shepherd of Judea there was Dean the dog, a.k.a. Sam Merlotte, my boss and sometimes crush, now in his preferred puppy form, sitting on my front porch and licking his balls.

"Let me guess. Because you can, right?"

Dean/Sam turned around and sat up straight. Seemed as though even people disguised as dogs could still feign innocence pretty well. Of course, if I could lick myself in that general area, I might not ever leave the house . . .

"Oh my goodness! Do you need some more tomatoes?"

Poor thing hung his head and I felt a little bad for him, but he did smell something awful! I guessed he wouldn't be coming into work today. Oh! Oh no you don't, Sam Merlotte!

"Look, I'm sorry you got sprayed, but I am off today and I intend to stay as far away from the bar as possible. I'll be happy to call someone else for you, but - "

He hopped up faster than I'd ever seen him move and nipped me on the butt!

"Sam!"

I was about to get a newspaper and swat him on the ass when he pointed, with his nose, of course, to an envelope resting near the corner of the porch where he had been.

"O.K., I'll read it. You could have just come on over as yourself, you know."

He hung his head in shame, and then I felt really sorry for him. I guessed he didn't want to run into anyone else in town and have them get a whiff of him. So, I sighed and started reading note number two of the day:

Dear Sookie,

Thank you for your help last night. Bill told me that you were gracious enough to lend me and Jannalynn your tomatoes, including your Gran's stock. I'm so sorry that we troubled you, but I am grateful for your generosity.

I read between the lines and figured out that you were at Bill's place when I called. Don't worry, he didn't tell me or anything – I just smelled you on him. I have to say, whatever you did for him after the Bellefleur funeral, the man looks much better. He had lots of folks worried, including me believe it or not. I never cared for him on account of being jealous over you, but he's kind of grown on me, and the rest of the town, since then.

He probably wouldn't want me to tell you, but I talked to him when he came to the bar after fighting the Fae. That was the night I saw how bad off he was. He told me what those Fairies did to you. I swear, Sookie, sick or not, he looked ready to kill them all over again. He has his faults, pride being one of them. He stormed out of my office when I told him I was fixing to call you. He looked like I'd slapped him across the face when I suggested that your fairy blood might help him.

I reckon something real bad must have happened between you two somewhere along the line, if he wouldn't even take blood from you as a friend. I also have a sneaking suspicion that he's set aside a college fund or something for you. Don't get all mad, but I got a call from the bank asking if it was legit. Guess they still don't trust Vamps. They probably hadn't heard I was a Shifter or they wouldn't have called me either. I just thought you ought to know all this. I don't want to pry into your personal business, but I think I can safely say that Bill Compton really does love you. He may have his faults, but love can overlook a lot. Believe me, I know. Jannalynn's a pill sometimes, but I love her something awful and I doubt that'll change. Especially since we just got sprayed together.

Whatever you decide, know you have my blessing and my friendship.

Yours truly,

Sam

Well color me surprised! I felt so touched and elated that I threw my arms around Dean/Sam and gave him a huge hug until I just couldn't take the smell anymore. He gave me a lick on the nose and then pointed at a box on the other side of my porch. I opened it up and found a $150 gift card to the new spa and nail bar in Monroe I'd been wanting to try, and a bottle of Royalty, which I assumed he meant as a thank you for Bill.

"Sam, you didn't have to do all that."

He barked twice, and then padded off my porch and back toward the woods. I doubted I'd ever get the whole ball-licking image out of my head, but I knew for certain I'd be pondering over his words for the next few hours.

I went back inside and did some stuff on the computer, and then I grabbed my keys and headed out. I had a lot to do before sunset, but first on my agenda, after buying a case of tomato sauce and dropping it off at Sam's place, was to go and look at my new office.

Then I'd go and get a new hairdo and my nails done, just in time for a date night do over with Vampire Bill.

A/N – Here's a late Christmas/early New Year's gifty for all of my fellow Bill Shippers out there in the cold, dark of cyberspace . . . pining away for their favorite brooding, sexy Vamp . . .

He'll make a big appearance in the next chapter – Scout's honor! No, really, I swear it this time! Hey, where y'all going?

Thanks to everyone for putting up with my silliness, sporadic posts, and overall pain-in-the-arse-ishness. You know I love all y'all and that I'll get around to finishing this thing before the next book comes out. Which, by the way, I read features our favorite Vampire working on a murder investigation with Ms. Stackhouse. Lots of possibilities there . . .