A/N: Hello my lovelies! So, I am just shocked and super flattered at the response this fic has gotten, and I know I have neglected you so – not a very good way of showing my thanks to all of you who read, reviewed, and added me to your alerts/faves.

I have been very distracted – you can blame all the girls for coming up with contests that I just could not resist sinking my teeth into ;p So, now that I've gotten that out of my system, and got to finish my other mutli-chapter fic, I can devote my full, undivided attention to you. Yay!

If you're interested in reading my cowboy up! contest entry, I'll meet ya at the bottom with details. Yee Haw ;D

A million thanks and smoochies to my beta, VampLover1, for betaing this chapter with vampire speed, and for writing another hilarious Fiends clip. I loves yous ;p Any mistakes remaining are totally mine ;p

Disclaimer: I do not own any rights to the Sookie Stackhouse Series or the HBO series True Blood

CHAPTER 3: THE O

There is only you and your camera. The limitations in your photography are in yourself, for what we see is what we are

~Ernst Haas

Thursday

"Ah, Sookie," I purred, relishing in the shock widening the girl's innocent sky blue eyes as she spotted me waiting for her in the car. "Welcome to the City of Angels."

The petite blonde froze in mid-bend, her voluptuous breasts peeking most invitingly above her thin rayon sweater, imprinted with a garish floral pattern. The only redeeming quality of the eyesore of a top was that it did accentuate the golden sparkle of her hair, now tumbling in big, loose waves around her shoulders. She kept one hand on the door, the other clutching tightly at the handles of a gift bag as she teetered just outside the car with uncertainty.

I didn't even attempt to hide the smirk that was curling my lips, as I patted my hand on the seat beside me. "Well, c'mon, little one. I don't bite."

I waited for her to slide into the seat next to me and close the door. As soon as she did, I met the driver's gaze in the mirror briefly, and with the flick of my eye, an almost imperceptible gesture which had become second nature for both of us, I motioned him to start driving. As the car pulled away from the curb of LAX, I leaned in, placing my hand on Sookie's shoulder and winked. "Unless you'd like me to, that is."

Her wince was as delicious as her scent – sweet and tart, like strawberries warmed by the sun. Yum. She shrank away from me, at least as far as the car would allow her, and crossed her arms in adorable annoyance at my peals of uncontrollable laughter.

"Well hello to you too, Pam. Are you quite done teasing the country bumpkin?" she demanded with narrowing eyes.

"Oh, Sookie," I replied, patting her knee. "This is going to be so much fun!"

After a moment's glare off, I allowed my gaze to wonder to the gift bag that Sookie was clutching her small hand around.

"So," I said, cocking my head to one side. "Do tell. What's in the bag?"

Sookie's excitement overtook her anxiety. She set the bag between us, opening it up and taking out her new purchase. She unfolded the t-shirt and held it up to her chest, modeling it.

I could feel amusement light up in my eyes, but bit down on my response, so that the girl could provide me with even more adorable teasing material.

"I just had to get it as soon as I saw it," she exclaimed, her charming southern drawl becoming more pronounced with her enthusiasm. "See? It says I heart LA! That's my home state!"

At this, I could no longer contain myself. I put my hand to my stomach, doubling over as if in pain, as the giggles rolled out of me. I pulled myself together when I heard what sounded like a growl coming out of the innocent little blonde sitting beside me.

"Oh, God, Sookie," I cackled, resting my hand on her shoulder. "You are just too adorably entertaining. That stands for L.A., sweetie, as in Los Angeles? The city you just landed in?"

I sobered up at the stricken look that clouded the girl's face. I stroked her cheek with the back of my hand with an affection that surprised both of us as I whispered, "Aren't you just a bag of precious. So … sweet."

My eyes lingered on her for another moment, before reaching down to unzip the tote bag at my side, withdrawing a large charcoal-gray folder. I placed it in Sookie's lap and then leaned back, crossing my arms, waiting for Sookie to open it. The girl traced the magenta letters spelling F/Stop while her eyes darted about, procrastinating the discovery of what awaited her inside the thick folder.

I dug my fingernails into my arms, biting down on the urge to count the seconds until Sookie gathered enough courage to open the damn folder. When she finally opened it, her mouth dropped so far down she was practically licking the brochure that was on the top.

She whipped her head towards me, her eyes as wide open as her mouth had been a moment ago.

"The O Hotel?" she screamed her disbelief. "What's next, the Get Some A Bar & Grill?"

I snorted. "Oooh, now that sounds like a hot spot!" I allowed myself a brief moment to enjoy the little blonde's huffing and puffing, until I managed to pull myself together once again. "Oh, little one, the acronyms are a mere coincidence, I assure you. It's a beautiful hotel, and very convenient to the location of the F/Stop."

Sookie rolled her eyes. "Oh, I just bet it is," she quipped before proceeding to open the brochure.

The O Hotel was one of those small boutique hotels that seemed to be popping up everywhere now. Except the O was gorgeous while pulling off the quaint charm of the boutique experience without trying too hard. Quite a rare feat, especially in this town. It was like the elegant, simple beauty of a Frank Stella compared to the self-important existential airs of a Pollock. God, sometimes I hated how even my damn metaphors were based on the art world.

I loved the O so much that we had a long-term lease for one of their Flower suites. Situated in the heart of downtown, it was convenient for our numerous out of town guests, but it also came in handy for my own uses. My own apartment was in Venice Beach, so it was great to have a place to stay when I wanted to have a shorter commute the next morning, or when I liked a date enough to share my bed, but not so much that I wanted to bring her to my home. Or both.

The Flower suite was five hundred square feet of pure West coast style luxury, named so for the gorgeous view of Flower Street. Like other suites at the hotel, it was laid out in an open, airy floor plan with a separate bedroom and living room. The living room area featured a flat screen television as well as a mini-fridge stocked with everything from caviar to a wide assortment of chocolate-covered treats.

Everything was of the highest quality, of course. The California king-sized bed had one of those memory foam mattresses that molds to your body, with adjustable firmness settings and the bedding was hypoallergenic, with 1000 thread count Egyptian cottonsheets. The bathroom was fit for a queen as well, with a large roman tub and adjustable, massaging showerhead. It even had heated floors that automatically turned on with the lights.

Since it was our suite exclusively, I had taken the liberty of adding in some of my own upgrades. This included an office area in the living room, featuring an ergonomic designer chair and a Macbook Pro which was stowed away in a desk hutch. I had also put in a Gaggia cappuccino maker. It was fully automated, allowing you to brew pretty much any type of coffee drink your heart desired, with a touch of a button.I simply could not stay anywhere without one of these, and I wholeheartedly believed no one else should either.

Anyway, I was so looking forward to seeing Sookie's expression when she discovered all the luxurious little details of her plush new digs; but alas, I just could not find a good enough excuse to accompany her to the room. Oh well, I just hoped it would make convincing her to stay there longer that much easier.

I forced myself out of my musings. I would worry about how to get her to stay, later. Now was certainly not the time. I did not want to scare this adorable, skittish little kitten away. No, I could wait until she was a bit more settled in, I thought, as I watched her leaf through the pages of the brochure.

I noticed her glance up every so often from the glossy pictures to look at me. Her eyes traveled up and down my body, taking in my attire – a powder blue cashmere fitted top paired with a tailored charcoal gray pencil skirt that tapered to just below my knees. After her initial assessment, she kept looking back and forth from me to the brochure in her hands. I could barely contain the sparkle of amusement and satisfaction from my eyes, fully aware of the striking similarities in style between myself and my favorite hotel that my petite blonde companion was noticing. It was a sleek and elegant beauty, without being pretentious or unapproachable.

"Don't worry, there won't be a written quiz," I teased then put up my hands in a gesture of surrender at the burning glare from Sookie, softening my smirk with a wink. "Okay, okay. I'll stop, for now. You're just so much fun! Now, if you'll flip over to the last page, you'll see your room key."

Sookie pulled the key card out and put it away in her wallet.

"Now, we'll be there in a few minutes, so listen carefully like a nice little girl," I told her, smiling congenially and patting her knee, ignoring her furious sighs. "You'll have the rest of today to settle in. Tomorrow, you must get to the gallery by seven pm for the opening... and you must, I repeat must, stay for at least an hour." I paused a moment for an exceptionally impressive eye roll. "Look, Sookie, it's not my favorite thing, either. The lot of them are pretentious, and shallow, mindless sheep. But you have to put in your time and... enthrall the vermin, if you will."

"Okay, fine," Sookie agreed with a sigh, her shoulders sagging in resignation.

"Good," I said with a pleased nod, smoothing out my skirt. "Now, it's not that I don't trust your word...but, I do have an insurance plan, to make sure that you'll be there."

"Oh?" She raised her eyebrow in question. I was pleased to find both curiosity and thinly veiled amusement in her eyes.

"Yes, I don't like leaving things to chance," I replied with a smile growing on my own lips. "You will be receiving those much-coveted tickets to the Fiends premiere at the gallery tomorrow night."

I let her stew on that for a moment, before continuing. "Well, we're almost there, but we do need to talk about this, first." As I said this, I waved my hand, gesturing at her hideous outfit.

"This?" Sookie asked, mimicking my hand gesture and raising her eyebrow.

"Yes, this," I repeated, fingering the thin, rough rayon material of her shirt like it was greasy garbage, before wiping my hand on the car seat. I considered fishing out a clean-wipe from my purse to rub in my point even further, but opted for putting on my sunglasses instead. "It's quite blinding."

It really was blinding, even though I had probably overdone the teasing just a bit. The mustard-yellow skirt hung in shapeless pleats down to her knees. But it wasn't a muted Grey-Poupon color – oh, no, it was a horrendous, poke-your-eyes-out French's mustard hue. The white shirt, covered with a pattern of roses an even more repulsive shade of yellow, clung to her in a manner indicative of the cheap material, and the even cheaper labor that had gone into producing it. She looked like trailer trash all dressed up for church in her cheap, Wal-mart Sunday best.

Well, at least she seemed to have good taste in shoes, I consoled myself, as I gazed with grudging appreciation at her cream patent leather pumps.

"I'm sorry Sookie, but this just will not do," I informed her as I raised my sunglasses, placing them on top of my head and looking straight into her eyes. "Whatever you wear on you own personal time is your business, I suppose, but when you represent the F/Stop, you must dress more appropriately. Tomorrow, I will send over a suitable dress for you to wear to the opening."

I gave Sookie a stare that said that this was not up for negotiation.

"Fine, I guess. While I'm technically working, at least," Sookie conceded with a pout, just as the car pulled up to the curb of the O Hotel. "But just make sure it's not black."

I leaned in for a quick embrace, brushing my lips lightly against her cheek. "I'll see you tomorrow night, then."

When the driver opened the door for her, Sookie jumped a little at the unexpected movement. It was quite obvious that she did not have any experience with service personnel. She pulled herself together and got out, waiting on the sidewalk while the driver retrieved her luggage. Just as he was handing it to her and she started to move towards the hotel, I lowered the window. She tensed a bit at the sound then turned around to face me. Leaning forward, amusement irresistibly tugging at the corners of my mouth, I left her with one last tease. I just couldn't help myself. "I personally think you should burn those eyesores you call clothes, but as long as I don't have to lay my eyes on them again, it's all the same to me."

She turned her back on my maniacal cackles and stalked towards the lobby.

I wrapped the robe more tightly around me and hopped onto the roomy bed, luxuriating in my swanky accommodations. The robe was that ultra comfortable kind that fancy spas had, where the inside was a fluffy terry cloth towel, while the outside was a plush velour material. It felt like being hugged by a cloud. A pink, cotton candy cloud. I had discovered it hanging on the bathroom door, right after I stepped onto the heated bathroom floor after the most amazing bubble bath of my life. The delicious scent of vanilla and almonds still clung to me. I could definitely get used to this, I thought, as I stretched my arms across the bed.

The remote control, propped up on the nightstand, caught my eye. Ooooh, I hoped HBO was part of the room package. They were sure to be playing some old episodes of Fiends since this was the week of the season three premiere. Sitting up, I unwrapped the towel from around my head, snuggled under the covers, and turned on the television. I watched as the list of channels and corresponding scheduled shows scrolled on the screen while I began to gently comb out my wet curls. A wide grin spread over my lips when I saw that Fiends was just about to start. I quickly tuned in to the correct channel and held my breath until the reception came in. Score.

Oooh, I wondered which episode they were going to air.

Scene: Door opens. BJORN and a slim brunette, SELAH, enter the apartment, upstage left. She is well-dressed, her hair and makeup perfect. He is wearing tight jeans with a turtleneck and blazer. He looks delicious; she looks like a bitch on four inch designer fuck-me pumps.

SELAH: "So, this is where you and your twin brother live?" (she looks around her, somewhat disdainfully)

BJORN: "Yes, this is home, sweet home."

BJORN tosses his keys on the hall table and adjusts his glasses before heading to the open kitchen, stage right. SELAH settles herself on the couch, downstage.

BJORN: "Care for a drink, Selah? I'm afraid my brother and I don't keep much in the fridge besides beer and blood."

SELAH: "Oh, I don't mind joining you in a blood. You might not know this about me yet, Bjorn, but I always like trying NEW things. In fact, my colleagues at work affectionately call me 'Sampling Selah,' or something endearing like that, when they don't know I'm listening to them talk about me."

BJORN shakes his head in amazement and warms two bottles of blood in the microwave. BJORN walks downstage, handing SELAH a bottle of blood as he sits on the couch next to her.

SELAH: "Thanks… and if you don't mind me saying so, Bjorn, you could do so much better by investing in real estate, rather than wasting your money on rent each month. I just listed a chic condo near the most fashionable shops… I could show it to you sometime…"

SELAH places the bottle on the coffee table and turns to face him. She runs her perfectly manicured fingernails through his long blond hair then softly kisses him.

SELAH: "And I could show you ALL of my assets if you're interested…"

Before SELAH can go any further, BJORN stops her and gently pushes her away.

BJORN: "Any decisions regarding a change in living arrangements would have to be discussed with my brother as well, Selah. Leif and I are very close…"

SELAH: "Ah, you two are close?" (she laughs) "I just think it's wonderful when two brothers, sexy twin brothers no less, can share in things they both enjoy. Tell me, Bjorn, what things do you both like to do together? Hmm? Maybe we should call your brother and see if he can join us tonight for a… threesome…"

SELAH's fingers start working their way down BJORN's chest and get dangerously close to his lap before BJORN grabs her hand to stop her.

BJORN: "NO! Leif is busy tonight. Besides, you and I don't even know each other that well, Selah. Why don't we talk and get to know one another first?"

SELAH sighs and returns her hands to her own lap. She is clearly annoyed at being turned down.

SELAH: "Fine, Bjorn, whatever. As you probably would expect, by looking at me, I won the million-dollar sales award last year. I am VERY good at what I do and can be very persuasive when I need to be. Now tell me, Bjorn. What's it like to be a vampire? Can I see your fangs? Is it true that vampires can last… all… night… long?"

BJORN: "But don't you want to know what I do for a living, Selah? What my interests are? What I'm like as a person?" (he asks in hurt shock)

SELAH: "Not really, Bjorn. I do want to know what's under those pants, though…" (she aggressively reaches to unbutton his jeans, but he quickly stands up and steps away from her)

BJORN: "Out! Get out of my apartment, NOW!" (he points to the door)

SELAH: "What!? You are actually asking ME, successful realtor Selah Pumphrey, to leave?" (she stands up, indignant) "No man has EVER not wanted to be with me!"

BJORN: "Well, you finally found one who doesn't! All you care about is bedding a vampire. You don't care at all about the man beneath the fangs and pale skin, do you?"

SELAH: "Oh, for god's sake! Why did I have to end up with the one sensitive vampire in the world who would rather talk to me than screw me?"

BJORN: "OUT! Your kind is not welcome here. Go do your 'sampling' elsewhere!"

SELAH gathers herself and her purse, then heads for the door.

SELAH: "You have no idea what you're missing, buddy! I am the BEST at everything I do!" (slams door on her way out)

BJORN sinks into the couch, his head in his hands.

BBRRING… BBRRING… the room phone on the hotel nightstand was ringing, so I lowered the volume on the TV. The episode was almost over, anyway. At least I got to see the part where Bjorn threw the bitch out on her skinny butt. When the episode first aired last season, all of the fans on the website chat threads were thrilled that Selah was shot down. Bjorn's vulnerable sensitivity, after all, was what made him so attractive to his fans. But I suppose I could understand the character Selah's motivations; it is easy to forget sometimes that there really is a person underneath all that hot, adorkable sexiness. And who wouldn't rather screw him than talk to him?

I leaned over to answer the phone, wondering if it was Pam checking up on how her little country bumpkin was settling in. I was shocked to find out who was actually on the other end of the line.

"Miss Stackhouse?" a low and husky masculine voice asked expectantly.

"Yes?" I answered, with honey-sweet politeness that would have made my Gran proud.

"Well, hi there," the deep voice continued, revealing a hint of a sexy accent. "This is Eric Northman, I was just calling to–"

"Pardon?"

"Oh, my name is Er– "

I interrupted him again with a snort. "Oh, I heard you just fine before."

Silence stretched its awkward fingers between us, before he finally broke it with an eloquent "Oh."

That earned yet another unladylike snort from me. "You honestly expect to me believe that this is the Eric Northman? As in, the star of Fiends Eric Northman?" After a moment's pause, I added, "How much did Pam pay you?"

My caller responded with a snort of his own. "Pamela didn't give me any money, or any other form of compensation. Although, considering how difficult you're making this, I'm starting to think maybe I should have demanded something in return."

I huffed at the phone, pulling it away from my face for a moment and glaring at it. Ugh! Considering how difficult I was making it? I returned the phone to my ear. "You mean, how difficult I'm making it for you to make fun of the stupid country bumpkin?" I continued, brushing off the amused chuckles I could clearly hear coming from the other end. "You can tell Pamela that I didn't fall for her ridiculous little prank, and that despite her childish attempt to amuse herself at my expense, I will still be there tomorrow, as promised. I did give her my word, after all, so I'll be there at seven pm sharp."

I slammed the phone down on the receiver, not even dignifying the imposter with a chance to reply to my angry rant.

Leaning back against the fluffy pillows, I could feel a smile creeping onto my lips. That Pam. As irritated as I was by this cheap trick, I had to admit that there was something about her that I enjoyed, despite myself.

My eyes traveled to the phone when it began ringing again. Huh. Persistent, if nothing else, I thought as I wrapped the blanket more tightly around myself and raised the volume of the TV.

A few moments later, the red message light on the phone started blinking. Unbelievable. Who heard of a prank caller actually leaving a message? I scooted up to a more upright position as I picked up the receiver to retrieve my message. One message. Well, geez, I wonder who that could be?

I dialed up the extension to retrieve the message, and I could practically hear the smirk in that husky let's-do-the-horizontal-mambo voice.

"Sookie Stackhouse. This is Eric Northman. I assure you that yes, it is the Eric Northman. (sexy, self-satisfied chuckle) As I was trying to tell you a few moments ago, before you so rudely interrupted me and refused to let me get in one word, I was just calling to welcome you to the city of Angels, and to congratulate you on winning the young photographer contest. I was also going to mention that I look forward to seeing you at our premiere screening party on Saturday. I do so look forward to putting a face to that sexy snort of yours."

A/N: Sooo...what'd ya think? Did ya like Pam pov? Are you as excited as me for the big opening at the F/Stop? Pssst...if you leave me some review love, I could be convinced to reward you with a peek for next chapter. * wink wink * Yeah, yeah, that was totally bribery, but I can't help it! You've got me so addicted to your crack-a-licious review luv ;D