A/N: Hellooo my lovelies! Okay, so … I just have to dedicate this one to my buttercup, Lilabitblf.

A/N And, a quick pimp. Only 10 days left in the Dead Pan Contest!!! Pleeeeze go read & review! Pretty please? With Nutella slathered on top? *puppy dog eyes*

http://www . fanfiction . net/community/Dead_Pan_Contest/78556/99/0/1/

CHAPTER 15:OVEREXPOSURE

When words become unclear, I shall focus with photographs. When images become inadequate, I shall be content with silence.

~Ansel Adams

EPOV

I undid the bowtie and examined my handiwork. Pretty damn near perfect.

It had just enough wrinkle to it to give it the careless-disheveled look, and was the perfect finishing touch to my black velvet suit. It was a safe bet that both Sookie and her camera would not be able to resist this shit.

Thoughts and images from last night swirled through my head. Finding out Sookie was an empath certainly brought a lot of things into clearer focus, but that kiss ... shit. It was a fairly safe bet that it had made us both more than weak in the knees. Now, all I had to do was turn up that infamous Northman charm just a notch, and Sookie Stackhouse would tumble right over the edge.

Cocky much? Fuck, yeah—but only with good reason. After all, no one can break the laws of physics, not in real life anyways. And Sookie was about to run right into Northman's law of sexual gravitation—you can only fend off the pull for so long. There's empirical evidence on that shit. Look it up.

The doorbell snapped me out of my 'Sookie Finally Yields' show, but, as I headed downstairs, I had to work hard to ignore the way my heart was skipping like a damn crushin' schoolgirl.

When I opened the door, my mouth practically watered at the sight of sweet-as-apple-pie Sookie.

Either I was overdressed, or she was way underdressed—not that I minded either. I enjoyed the way her eyes drank me in as they raked up and down my body just as much as I was enjoying the sight of her in low-slung jeans and a clingy pale-pink top. That color set off her golden skin to absolute perfection, and the low neckline did the same for her phenomenal breasts. I found myself thinking that the material did seem kind of thin and hoping and praying that it would be just a little bit too cold outside.

"Hey, sexy," I purred as I stepped aside to let her in.

I heard her stifle a snicker as she walked past me.

"What?"

"Oh, nothing," she mumbled and shrugged as she took a seat on the sofa. She looked up at me again and her face contorted with a smirk she was obviously trying to bite back.

"Okay, what's got you all a-gigglin' and a-snortin' there? Hmm?"

She was digging around in her bag for something, but I could see her shoulders were shaking with laughter. She finally looked up at me as she took out a roll of film and began to load it into her camera. "It's no big deal, Eric. Really," she said with laughter in the back of her throat while her hands deftly worked without even a glance at what they were up to. "I'm just … touched that you would dress up. Like, school-picture-day dress up."

"Yeah, yeah. Make fun all you want … but I know you're enjoying the view."

She shut the back of the camera and looked at me with a full-out grin. "I never said I wasn't."

Wow. Saucy.

This night was going to be more fun than I could have even hoped for.

XXX

"So …."

"So."

We stared at each other for a moment of unsure awkwardness, before we both burst into laughter. I stood up, offering her my arm and a smile. She took it and I led her outside. After depositing her in a seat, I grabbed the champagne bottle from the ice bucket it had been chilling in and popped the cork. As the bubbly foam spilled over, I heard her giggle behind me. Turning around and walking over to join her, I set the bottle down and sucked the champagne off my finger in exaggerated slow motion.

I was more than satisfied with the response.

Sookie's laughter died immediately as her eyes fixated on my mouth. I noticed her hands clutch the handle of her chair tight enough to cause the knuckles to go white and her mouth part, before she remembered herself enough to hide her reaction. I could practically feel the heat roll off her.

I gave her a wink and picked up the champagne. Palming the bottom of the bottle in one hand, I poured a glass and passed it to her. "Thirsty?"

Her eyes widened before she straightened in her seat and took the offered glass. "Oh, uh … yeah. Sure."

She slammed it down with one gulp. Impressive.

"So, shall we get started?"

"I'm ready whenever you are." I punctuated my answer with an eyebrow waggle.

She rolled her eyes. "Okay … well, where do you want to do this?"

My eyebrow shot up of its own accord, and she sucked in her breath and muttered something that sounded like a curse, though I couldn't make it out.

She cut me off just as I was about to respond. "Yeah, yeah. Am I gonna be able to say anything tonight that you won't twist around into something sexual?"

I answered her with my brightest choir-boy grin. And that's when the first snap went off.

I was caught a little bit off guard that she would take the first shot without even a word of warning, but I kind of liked it, too. It was almost like the camera was part of the sentence, like a punctuation or something. I lifted my own glass and tossed it down the hatch before grabbing her hand and heading down to the beach.

XXX

I lost track of how many roles of film she went through.

I gave her solemn and brooding, smoldering sex-god … and everything in between. Hey, I hadn't become Eric fucking Northman for nothing. I knew how to turn it on, and it was on full blast today. She didn't say much, but her occasional giggle and the rapid firing off of the camera shutter told me all I needed to know.

We walked back toward my house right as the sun was beginning to set. She stopped just short of the deck and sat down, pulling her knees up and resting her chin on them as she looked at the clouds of red and orange through her camera.

Her hair surrounded her like a halo in the fading light of the sunset. I had to touch it, touch her.

I moved closer, watching her profile as I slid a hand into her hair and pulled it back, revealing the perfect curve of her neck. She did her best to stay still, but the goose bumps that sprung along her skin were a dead giveaway. It was irre-fucking-sistible.

I inched even closer, as close as I could get without touching her delicious skin, close enough so that when I spoke, my lips grazed against it. "So, when do I get to capture you, Sookie?"

Feeling her tremble underneath my lips—well, it just made me want to feel her entire body tremble underneath me, around me.

She jumped to her feet and spun around to face me. "Oh, I don't think I could afford to hire you," she teased, but the huskiness in her voice betrayed her.

Oh, but I think I already have captured you. I can see it in your shudders. "I'm sure we could work something out," I purred as I lay back on the sand, crossing my arms behind my head.

"Yeah, I'm sure," she muttered, raising the barrier of the camera between us once again and snapping a few frames.

"So, would you like to get a few more shots out here?" I offered, turning onto my side and propping myself on my elbow. As I ran a hand through my hair, I added, "I could strip for you."

She snorted. "Uh … whatever makes you more comfortable."

The temperature had obviously dropped in the last few minutes, and it had nothing to do with the cool evening breeze. Hoping that a little show would heat her up again, I gave her my best smirk and eyebrow wiggle combo and began to undo the buttons of my shirt. That didn't seem to get me anywhere, aside from the occasional click of the shutter.

So I pulled out all the guns. I pounced forward, moving into a kneeling position as I dug my hands into the sand and stared up at her, turning up the heat in my eyes to panty-scorching.

The rate of clicks definitely seemed to increase.

I threw my head back, shaking my hair back and forth so that when I returned my gaze back to her it fell in a disheveled, bed-head mess around my face. Never taking my eyes off her, I tore the jacket off, and yanked my suspenders down, leaving them hanging at my sides. The shirt followed not even a second later, but I left the white wife-beater on, well aware of just what a peak of clavicle tended to do to the female population.

Sookie snapped another picture and then dropped the camera to her side.

I was ready for her to molest me with her eyes.

Or, even better, to drop down to her knees and binge at the Northman gourmet buffet. I would gladly give her all-you-can-eat privileges.

But I was far from ready for the words that floated down at me from her perfect little lips.

"You hungry?"

Oh, you bet your fine little ass, I'm hungry. Ravenous. Insatiably so.

"Yeah, I think we're done here. Let's go grab something to eat." She tossed the camera strap over her shoulder and started walking toward my house.

Motherfucking hell.

As I followed behind her, I couldn't stop from thinking that even though my kitchen was stocked with plenty of choices, I would not be feasting on what I was really craving. Whatever it ended up being, it sure as hell wasn't going to be in the food group I'd had in mind.

XXX

"So do you think you got some good shots?" I asked as watched her lean back on the couch, covering her content stomach with her hands.

She gave me a sidelong glance followed by an unimpressed little grunting sound. "Uh … I wouldn't suggest holding your breath."

I tried to disguise my shock. I mean, I did put on the full Northman charm offensive—there were sure to be plenty of good choices. "C'mon, Sookie. I'm sure you're being too hard on yourself."

"Actually, no. I'm usually right when it comes to these things."

I stewed for a good long minute, working to swallow equal doses of shock and irritation. "So, is there anything in particular that makes you so certain of this?"

"Do you really want to know?" She crossed her arms defensively as she met my gaze.

"Please, do enlighten me."

She searched my face and gave a long, heavy sigh. "You were doing your whole EN routine again."

"My EN routine?"

"Yeah, the Mr. Hollywood heartthrob thing. The sex smirk that could win an Olympic event, if there was one," she paused, taking another deep breath as she looked at me from behind eyes that seemed to be full of sadness and … if I had to place it, I'd say regret, even. "You know—a wink here, a brow waggle there … and panties go poof everywhere."

She gave me a small, apologetic smile that mirrored the emotion of her eyes, before continuing, "The thing is—I know there's more to you than that, Eric. Okay, maybe I didn't think so at first, but now I do know. I saw it, last night. But you've been 'shielding' yourself, as you call it, for so long now, I wonder if you even know how to BE just Eric."

She took another deep breath that did absolutely nothing to calm the storm in her eyes. "Look, Eric, when you first asked me to do these photos of you, you said you wanted me to capture you. But now, after all this … I have to wonder. Can you even let yourself be captured?"

I was glad that I was sitting down, because otherwise I was sure that I would have stumbled back as her words—no, scratch that, her accusations, and to be perfectly honest, her spot-on observations—cut into me.

The flash of her camera going off snapped me out of it.

She set her camera down in her lap and reached out for me, placing her hand on my shoulder and rubbing her thumb in soothing circles, both assuring and inquiring at once. Her brows were furrowed with worry, and my own pain was reflected back at me in her glistening eyes.

"Why do you wear a mask?" she whispered.

I had to smile at the quote; I knew it well. When we'd had a discussion about favorite movies a few nights ago, she had admitted to the Princess Bride being her all time favorite, and I had told her how that was the one movie I'd thoroughly regretted turning down. I explained to her how much I'd wanted to take that offer, but that at the time, I was already in the middle of another project—shooting in Sweden, no less—so I had to give it a pass.

After she got over the shock that I was offered that role, we spent the better part of an hour reciting favorite lines—I knew them since I'd had to learn many of them for my audition, and, what can I say? They struck a chord. Hey, it really was an excellent piece of film making.

Her voice, soft yet determined, brought me back to the present. "Is it because you were burned?"

My head snapped up to take her in, our eyes locking on each other's. "Well, they are comfortable," I paused, swallowing hard at my rage. I wasn't sure if I was more angry at her or at myself, but I promptly decided that I didn't really give a shit which it was. "Aren't they, Sookie?"

She retracted her hand, wincing as if she was burned. "What?"

"Aren't they comfortable? You know, so easy to hide behind? And far too easy to get used to."

Confusion and hurt clouded her face, immediately replaced by fire sparking in her eyes and snarling at her lips. "Look, I don't know what the hell you're talking about—"

"Oh, spare me," I cut her off.

Fuck. That hurt behind her eyes—as much as she tried to conceal it, I could still see it—it made my fucking chest hurt. Oh, this was not good. I was so beyond fucking screwed.

I took a deep breath before continuing. "Look, Sookie, it just seems to me that whenever things get a bit too, uh … close for comfort, you lash out with some bitchy snark. Have you considered that maybe that's your shield? Or mask, or whatever you want to call it."

I snuck a peek at her face to gauge her reaction, and immediately wished I hadn't. Her lower lip was trembling, and she pursed her lips together trying to still the tell-tale signs of her emotions. But her eyes betrayed her. One lone tear toppled over the line of her lashes and fell onto her cheek.

Without another thought, I was at her side, wiping the tear away with my thumb as my hand cradled her cheek. She leaned into my hand and her own hand flew up to cover mine, meeting my eyes and melting my fucking black ass heart before her lashes fluttered down and away, slamming down that goddamn fortress again.

"Well, I should get going …." she mumbled as she shot up to her feet, clutching her camera to her chest like it was a damn teddy bear and rushing to the kitchen, where she'd left her purse earlier.

Just fucking fucktastic.

I followed her with my eyes as she all but ran past me to the door. She paused, looking back at me over her shoulder with a hand on the handle. "Look, Eric. I really am sorry if what I said hurt you. That most definitely was not what I wanted. I just—well, I dunno," she shrugged her shoulders and looked away. "I honestly am sorry if it did. But, anyways, I'm just gonna need a few days to work on these and then I should have something for you to take a look at. I'll call you."

And with a small smile that didn't reach her eyes and another shrug, she walked out the door.

A/N: Oh, c'mon! Y'all didn't reeeeally think it was gonna be that easy, did ya? Now press that green button and tell me what you thought.

A/N A gazillon Nutella-flavored kissies to chiisai-kitty who beta'd this at vamp speed for my antsy li'l ass.

Any mistakes remaining are purely my own.

Disclaimer: As always, I do not own any rights to the characters in SVM or the HBO series True Blood. However, the original content and ideas are mine all mine.