Disclaimer: Mmmm, hot, blonde Viking… If I have to dream and drool, it means I don't own it.

A/N: This does take place right before season two but deviates after the second episode, just to clarify. And an aspect/part of episode three is involved.

A/N: So… I've noticed that I've been getting an awful lot of alerts and faves but a relatively small percent of you folks actually review. A bit disappointing.

A/N: Alex is in Lady Gaga's Paparazzi video, something I found humorous and entertaining.

A/N: The lyrics at the beginning of each chapter are significant to the story itself, if not the chapter. They're also apart of the playlist I've created to go along with this whole mess and if anyone has song suggestions, I'm all ears!

A/N: This chapter was hard to write. I'm not quite sure why, but I hope it's long enough. I feel bad for not posting sooner. Also, I edited chapter three and added a little bit to the end.

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Another Way to Die

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Chapter 4: Nouvelle Lune

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I know the player with the slick

Trigger finger for Her Majesty

Another one with the golden tone voice

And then your fantasy, another bill

From a killer turned a thrill into a tragedy

A door left open, a woman walking by

A drop in the water, a look in the eye

A phone on the table, a man on your side

Someone that you think that you can trust is just

Another way to die



Another tricky little gun Giving solace to the one

That will never see the sunshine

Another inch of your life Sacrificed
For your brother In the nick of time

Another dirty money, Heaven sent honey

Turning on a dime

- Another Way to Die, by Jack White and Alicia Keys

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Eric was still sleeping, his short hair falling into his closed eyes. The lamp on his side was on low, the light creating a soft, dim pool. With his arm draped over my waist, my legs tangled in his, I was able to study his face more closely. He had a light, five o'clock shadow. I briefly wondered if it would grow back if I shaved it off. Not that I would even be able to get away with pressing the razor to his skin. He'd wake up fast enough to slam my head through the wall. I was careful not to touch him, at least not any more than I was already. He looked older than myself, not necessarily eleven hundred years older but physically older than eighteen. When had he been turned? Who was he before? Was his name always Eric? What about those feelings I experienced, when I briefly saw a part of his life? A wife? Children? How many? Boys or girls or both? How old were they? Who was his wife? Was she beautiful? Were they alive when he was turned into a vampire? Did he kill them? Did he miss them?

There were always more questions asked than answered, as I discovered with Eric. Even in sleep, he looked the same. Poised, cool and confident. Even though his hair was mussed from sleep, I decided that I liked it better short. It seemed blonder than before… A cord around his neck caught my attention. It traveled down his collarbone, looping back up to hold an aged, gleaming fang. I gently traced it with my index finger. It was smooth with age. Eric opened his eyes and I almost recoiled under his shocking blue gaze,

"Do you like it?" My nose tingled when he spoke,

"What is it?" Curling my lip, I winced at the stench that gently clung to his skin and breath. How could I not have noticed it before? "You stink," I muttered, pushing him away. He seemed mildly offended, "You didn't take a shower before you got into bed," I accused, sitting up. Stone faced, I pointed at the bathroom, "Go take one," He propped himself up on his elbow,

"I don't take kindly to being ordered around, human," The was nothing in his face to betray any sort of amusement,

"I don't like sleeping next to someone who smells like shit," He had me pinned down the moment I paused to take another breath. My heart slammed in my ribcage, my muscles tightening beneath my skin. Eric's fangs were out and he hissed softly,

"You're getting real lax with the words that are coming out of your mouth," The necklace dangled just above my throat, brushing against me as I breathed,

"Really? I hadn't noticed," We stared at each other and I refused to look away. I knew what he was doing; asserting his dominance, being the alpha dog, or vampire rather. Trying not to flinch, I kept my breathing nice and even. I wasn't sure what he was going to do. Would he rip my throat out and drain me dry? Maybe. Vampires were volatile, unpredictable and no longer governed by human limitations. He could smell my underlying suspicion; I knew it,

"I suggest that you stop and think before you speak," I didn't reply. He slipped off me like water and snapped the bathroom door behind him. I stayed still for a while, staring up where his face had been so incredibly close to mine. It took me a moment to realize that my heart hadn't stopped racing.

How could I forget that while playing with matches, one could get burned? How could I have been so stupid, to let myself ramble on like that- It was a mistake an ignorant human would have made, someone who hadn't grown up with vampires sleeping under their floorboards and knowing that despite their former human lives, something else inhabited their human bodies as well. I was spoiled to have known Salome and Durand as my first vampires. Absolutely spoiled. Now I was paying for it. I paid for it with two minutes of my life; two minutes spent wondering if he was going to kill me, if that was going to be my end. How could I be attracted to something like that? To something that had no qualms with playfully keeping my sketchbook out of reach before pinning me down to remind me of my place on the food chain?

Easy. It was so easy. It was easy because he was beautiful, because he was intelligent and had a quick, dry sense of humor, when it suited him. It was easy because he recognized something in me, knew something in himself and had enough experience to last at least ten lifetimes. It was easy because no one was one-dimensional. I rolled the nugget in my mind, quietly sitting up and leaning over to turn the brightness of the lamp up and to click on my own light. My hands folded in my lap and I looked intently at my cuticles because I didn't want to look at anything else. The sound of the shower was a low, muffled drone in the background.

This wasn't an epiphany. It wasn't a light bulb flashing on or a stroke of lightening piercing the earth. Fireworks didn't explode; Holy Light didn't shine down from parted clouds. It was calm, a sensible conclusion to a string of thoughtful reasoning. That was all. Was I attracted to Eric? Absolutely. Physically? Of course. Mentally? Without a doubt.

Did I love him? I didn't think so. What was there to love? I knew nothing about him, except for that brief skin-to-skin contact that started the whole ordeal in the first place. If I had to think when I answered my own question of love, then I knew I didn't love him. If I did, my answer would have come without hesitation. A strange cocktail of relief and disappointment brewed in my chest but I disregarded it, more out of trepidation of exploring it than anything else.

I pulled the sheets to the side and swung my legs off the bed. Keeping my back to the bathroom door, I unbuttoned the dress shirt and dug around the drawers for a fresh bra and panties. I slipped those on and kicked my dirty clothes into the corner by my nightstand. Didn't he have a hamper somewhere? I crouched to look for a pair of pants in the bottom drawer when I heard the bathroom door open. My face grew hot by I didn't say anything. I quickly pulled out some navy and white striped shorts and gracelessly yanked them on. I kept my eyes focused on finding a shirt as the closest door clacked. It seemed that Eric didn't feel inclined to speak either. Choosing a heather gray, strappy tank top, I slid it over my head, glancing over at him as I adjusted the fabric.

From the corner of my eye, I could see he had flicked on the light inside and was casually browsing through the hangers,

"What, do you have a million track suits or something?" I asked, trying to keep things light in lieu of our earlier… confrontation, "Are you going to get me some matching ones?"

"I'll think about it," He replied dryly. Keeping my smile to myself, I started to make the bed, "I have more questions for you," I looked up. His arms were crossed over his chest. He wore track pants and a ribbed, sleeveless top. Both were black. I kept myself from rolling my eyes. Typical,

"Yeah, I still have some things I want to ask you, too," He raised an eyebrow, his wet, golden hair gleaming in the light. I schooled my features, "But you go first,"

"Thank you," Eric replied, not bothering to hid the mockery in his words. I pursed my lips,

"Why did you leave home?" It was pointless for me to question why he asked me so much and answered so little. Giving in, I shrugged and said,

"Wanted to see the rest of Louisiana… maybe more if I can still sell some sketches,"

"You mentioned that you wanted to be an art student," It wasn't a question. He remembered because, frankly, that was one of the only things a vampire could do; live and remember,

"Yeah, but mémère's broke. And I'm not going to ask Salome and Durand for the money, if they have any?"

"What about a job?" I laughed,

"I live in the bayous and was home schooled by two vampires. Where would I get a job and how would I get there?"

"Those are excuses," That one stung. I clamped my mouth shut and jerked the sheets up a little harder than was probably necessary. He leaned against the wall across from me, watching as I tucked the sheets in. I hated how he was right. If I really wanted to be an art student, to go to school, I could work. I could get a job. I could save for a car. I just didn't,

"Salome and Durand?" His curiosity pulled me back to what I was doing. I nodded,

"Yeah, they helped raise me,"

"The vampires you mentioned?"

"Yup. That's them," His pale, blue eyes lingered on my face before flickering down to a spot on my skin. I frowned and something flitted across his features,

"Did they feed on you?"

"No… Why?" He disappeared in a smear of air, reappearing at my side, unblinking. I almost clutched my chest to slow my heart from it's frantic, wild beating. He took the breath right out of me,

"Then what are those?" He had no boundaries. One long, deft finger tapped the skin just above my left breast, close to the leather cord that held my gris-gris pouch. I was glad I hadn't flinched but my ears burned at the intimacy. Glancing down, I spotted what he was pointing at,

"These?" I realized what he was thinking. They could be scars, and from the way they were spaced, scars from a vampire. I shook my head with a lopsided smile, "Nah, these are café au lait spots. I have these two," I stretched the skin a little to display them more clearly, "And another one,"

"And where is that one?" I averted my eyes. He was making fun of me,

"On my leg," I answered carefully. He didn't have to know where on my leg…

"Be careful," Eric's voice drew my attention back to him. I wrinkled my brow,

"Why?"

"Because you might not always have the chance to explain what those are," He stared intently into my face and I felt some stir in my chest. We were too close, like there wasn't enough air between us, even though he didn't need to breathe. I sat down abruptly on the tidied up bed to add some distance. He continued standing. There was a pregnant pause as I looked at everything but him while Eric remained focused on me. I hated it. Finally, I spoke with the first stupid thing that came to mind,

"Eric, did you ever have a dog as a kid?" He seemed both puzzled and vaguely amused with where I was going with it,

"Why?" I couldn't ask him anymore when he'd let me leave, or how long he planned to keep me so I rolled with an analogy that might as well have come out of my ass,

"Because having a pet dog is a lot like having a pet human. You have to feed it, water it and let it, you know, exercise," I hinted, waggling my eyebrows,

"There are plenty of ways to exercise without leaving the bed," He replied coyly. I flushed. That hadn't really gone according to plan. Who was I kidding? Like I had a plan when I opened my big, fat mouth, "Get to the point, Rochelle," I was taken aback when he said my name. He only seemed to say it when the next thing was important,

"Can I go out to the club tonight? I'm tired of sitting in this room," I looked him squarely in the eye, gazing up at him from my seat on the edge of the bed. A playful smile ghosted his perfect lips,

"Aren't you entertained by the television?" I snorted,

"I want to draw," and I crossed my arms below my chest like a kid. Eric tilted his head to the side; a part of me was surprised that he was being so indulgent,

"You've drawn me from memory," He replied. Oh. That's right. He went through my sketchbook,

"Yeah, but those suck. Its better to have someone in front of you," I didn't know if he was offended that I thought my sketches of him were horrible. He didn't touch on the manner,

"Hm," Shocked, I stared. He had to be kidding. Just some noncommittal, one syllable sound?

"That's it?" I asked incredulously, "Just 'hm'?" He cocked an eyebrow, "No clever quip or, or anything?"

"You can go," Who did he think he was? Sure, he may be the oldest vampire I'd ever met, and probably the hottest, but I was sick and tired of him controlling me and keeping me locked up like some bird. On top of that, I wasn't allowed to question him or anything! And even if I did, it's not like he ever gave me a straightforward response. What is it with vampires and being vague?

"I mean, seriously, I thought you'd at least have some- what?"

"I said you can go," He smiled at my dumb expression.

Oh. Well. There I went, running my mouth. I was thankful he wasn't telepathic. I didn't question his sudden agreement. Can't look a gift horse in the mouth. The excitement was apparent in my step as I bounded over to my backpack, which had mysteriously ended up on his side of the bed. I hummed absently as I grabbed my sketchbook and pencil case. Eric looked amused at my upbeat mood as he stood beside me at the door, the only one I hadn't been able to open. He paused, his hand on the knob and for one fearful moment, I thought he had changed his mind. He glanced down, a smug smile quirking his lips before he twisted the handle.

He had been teasing me. I almost scowled. Jerk. The door clicked shut behind us and I hugged my belongings to my chest. The hall was abysmally gray with irritating florescent lights. Eric's long legs kept him at least a step in front of me as he guided me closer to the muted beats and pulses from the club's music. I eyed him openly, knowing that he couldn't see, and shook my head disapprovingly,

"You know, track pants and flip flops don't really scream, 'Roar, I'm a vampire! Fear me!'" He slowed to match his pace with mine,

"What was that? What don't they scream?" An ice like innocence graced his face,

"Roar! I'm a- hey!" I colored as I caught myself. Eric chuckled, "You're a dick," I wondered what had put him in such a good mood. We took a few turns before he opened a thick, heavy door. As we passed through it, I took another glance at the door. I doubted that I would've been able to open it by myself. The low lighting was a welcomed sight from the bright fluorescents. The sight of so many other people plastered a stupid grin on my face. While company with Eric could be nice, if he felt like it, being in a crowd allowed me a brief taste of freedom. I didn't bother questioning myself with how far the extent of my imprisonment lasted. I just wanted to hold on to the moment.

Eric's hand briefly touched my shoulder. I looked up at him,

"I want you to sit over there. Where I can see you," He was pointing at a part of the bar and I recognized the bartender,

"Okay. Am I allowed to talk to anyone?" I teased. His eyebrow rose,

"As long as you don't make yourself an open invitation to being eaten," Eric turned his body slightly, putting himself between me and some vampires who brushed by. Their eyes followed me intently and I looked away, "Let me know when you want to go back," and he melted away from my side. I quickly made my way to the bar, perplexed by his subtleties and words. Although it wasn't unwelcomed, his kindness was confusing. What did he want from me?

I seated myself on one of the stools, setting my sketchbook and pencil case before me. I cleared my throat and the Cajun vampire turned around,

"Fancy seeing you again," He smiled coyly,

"Rochelle," I smiled, offering my hand,

"I know," His white teeth gleamed as he took it was a firm shake. He sniffed. His eyebrows rose diminutively but I knew what he was smelled. Eric. My lips twitched, "There's been some talk. The name's Janvier, by the way," I nodded, glad that he hadn't mentioned anything,

"Nice to meet you," Releasing his hand, I leaned forward on the bar, "What do you mean by 'talk'?" Janvier shrugged, resuming his glass cleaning,

"Someone sneaked you in a few nights ago, yeah?"

"Yeah," I replied, wary of where this was going,

"She's been asking about you,"

"Oh,"

"And some idiot told her that you spoke with Eric,"

"Uh-oh," He gave a curt nod,

"Uh-oh is correct, chéri," Janvier must have noticed my expression because his face smoothed into a languid smile, "But relax. With Eric, nothing should happen to you,"

"Should something happen to me?" I asked carefully. His eyes widened in mock dismay,

"Of course not, mon ami!" Janvier cried. He set down his glass, "And just for worrying you, I'll make you a drink. On the house," He promised with a wink. I looked over my shoulder to Eric, but he was busy humiliating some human man who had come crawling to his feet, "What'll it be, chéri?"

"A virgin Mojito," I finally answered. He frowned,

"Not the drinking type?" But he started my drink nonetheless. I shook my head,

"Not yet anyway. I'm underage," I confessed,

"How underage?" Janvier asked suspiciously, his tawny hands paused. I laughed,

"Old enough to be in here legally," I assured him. His flirtatious smile elicited another giggle from me. It felt so nice to speak to someone who didn't seem so icy and brooding. I asked if I could draw him and he complied, flattered by my request. We spoke through the night and I found him to be the most heart-warming vampire I had met at Fangtasia. He freely spoke of his past, eager to share it after just a few questions. He had been born in New Orleans in the year 1804 to a family of six. He had grown up and followed the Voodoo practitioner Marie Laveau. My jack almost dropped out of its socket,

"You knew Marie Laveau?"

"Of course!" He scoffed, making me another virgin Mojito. His wide range of expressions had already taken up a few pages in my book, "I knew her on a personal level as well; she was a friend of the family," I opened and closed my mouth several times before saying,

"My mémère says we're related to her," He raised his eyebrows,

"Really?" I nodded, "Hmmm…" He leaned in closer, mahogany eyes squinted in concentration, "I do see a small resemblance; but tell me, does your mémère practice?"

"Yeah. She made me this before I left," I fondly touched my gris-gris. Mémère had once told me that no two gris-gris were alike, as they were each individually crafted for a specific person or purpose. He smiled,

"You must be close,"

"She raised me," I replied simply, "She's a strong woman and I'm glad she took me in," I took a sip of my drink and we moved on to lighter topics,

"Rochelle?" Janvier pursed his thin lips, one eyebrow cocked up in a very What-do-you-think-you're-doing manner. I turned in my barstool to see the bald vampire, who had snuck me in with her friends a few nights ago,

"Oh, hey," I wracked my brain for her name, "Sabrina," Her feline smile made me a little nervous,

"What's up?" She sat beside me, back resting against the edge of the wood,

"Not much," I responded airily, "Just… chillin',"

"Do you mind if I chill with you?" Sabrina asked. She was alone,

"Uh, sure," She didn't ask for a drink and Janvier didn't offer one. I saw why a moment later. Taking a swig of Tru Blood she held in her left hand, she eyed me,

"You look good," I wasn't sure how predatory her purr was,

"Thanks," I managed, "You too," I closed my sketchbook and zipped up my pencil case, setting them an arm's length away from me.

"Mm," Again with the noncommittal replies! What was it with vampires? Ugh, they were so annoying! Janvier was called away by a small group of tourists at the other end of the bar. Sabrina moved in for her kill,

"Rochelle," She spoke softly, her pupils dilated, "Do you trust me?" I recognized the ethereal timbre was her attempt to glamour me. I said nothing, "Rochelle," She pressed, "Can you hear me?"

"She may act stupid, but she's not deaf," Came Eric's voice. He blurred beside us. I was startled, but looked to him with relief. The slightest frown touched his features, but it didn't mar his beauty. Nothing seemed to. Sabrina straightened, "What do you want with her?"

"Nothing," She answered quickly. I mentally congratulated her for being able to recognize who had the bigger guns,

"Don't lie," His bored tone was clipped; he must have been irked. I stopped myself from biting my lip, "Were you going to drink her? That would have been incredibly idiotic of you, especially here," Sabrina rose, a vehement look spread across her face. Uh-oh. This probably wasn't going to end well; at least, not for her,

"What do you care what I do with her? She's just a human," She spat. I didn't bother with getting offended. A few curious onlookers turned their attention to us,

"Get out," Instead of hauling her ass like she should have, she took a defiant step towards him, chin jutting out in arrogance. Stupid, stupid girl. She raised her arm, as if to toss the bottle of Tru Blood at his face. But Eric was older, faster and probably expected a reaction like that. I heard him break her outstretched arm before I even saw him move. She howled in pain and the synthetic blood flew from her hand, splattering all over and me. I winced. It was still warm,

"I told you to get out," Although his face remained mild, his voice had darkened like heavy storm clouds. He tossed her away from him and she crashed back into several other vampires. The immediate crowd around us had fallen silent, but the music still played and other people still talked. Nothing seemed to stop completely for anybody,

"Pam?" The blonde appeared before us, "Would you mind-"

"Taking out the garbage? My pleasure," She deadpanned, roughly grabbing Sabrina's upper arm and dragging her through the parting crowd,

"Ever the sweetheart," I stared at their seamless exchange. They must have known each other for a very long time. A small, but adamant part of me wanted to know how long. Another vampire appeared, round faced and Asian. He began to dispel the crowd, telling them to go back to their business. Eric scooped up my thing with ease, his free hand placed at the small of my back to guide me back to the heavy door marked Employees Only. Once we were in the fluorescent hallway, I pulled the hem of my shirt away from my stomach to inspect the damage. Tru Blood was splattered all over it and I knew from experience it would be impossible to wash out,

"Aw, you ruined my shirt!" I groaned, disgruntled,

"I'll buy you a new one," He replied dryly.

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And that is why Eric was in Forever 21 in Episode 2 of Season 2. Hooray for plot bunnies!

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