A/N: SVM is owned by Charlaine Harris. FiniteAnarchy, who is both the bees knees and the cat's pajamas, is the beta for this story. She's also writing Dead Memories which is a great take on pre-Revelation Area 5 and features our most adored amnesiac. Have a look!

This leg of the story is winding down. The good news (I hope) is that I have more I'd like to show and tell in this AU. There've been a few little seeds planted in the last few of chapters, some of them you reviewers have picked up on already!

I like to see things end at their natural endpoints, which from the point of view of the main plots, is right about here. However, aside from being my fun action mystery romp, this is a Sookie and Eric story; and these two have just not gotten to where we want them to be (threatening to break the nearest porch swing). In view of that, their story will continue right here.

So, if this were a book, we're more or less shifting into Part Two.

I'm going to drop it down to once a week updates, at least for a little while, until I've caught up. If you care about which day, I've put a poll on my profile page. Just click my name at the top. I'll let you know. Expect the regular update Friday.

Hopefully I'll be able to continue writing the characters and intrigue in a way that's true to the spirit of the books and satisfying for most. Thanks for reading!

Chapter 17 - You Could Have Knocked Me Over With a Vampire

The only exciting thing to happen on Saturday was that the quilt I'd ordered Gran for Christmas arrived. Her old one was beginning to show some wear. She used to like sewing, and might once have enjoyed the project of making a new one, but a broken finger that hadn't set right a few years back had ruined the hobby for her. I'd never gotten into it myself. This one was handmade by somebody at least. It was lovely and practical. I really hoped she would be pleased.

I finally made it to the grocery store, even remembering to pick up some more synthetic blood. Bizarrely, Life Force was on weekly special at the Winn Dixie. I tried and failed to imagine a vampire clipping coupons.

As promised, I didn't see Eric that night. That was a good thing. I needed the time to sort out my feelings. I didn't exactly manage it, but I made some good progress.

My body was apparently ready to stop ignoring Eric's attractions, but my brain demanded to know exactly where we stood before taking up with him romantically.

I wasn't even sure that "taking up with him romantically" was being offered. Eric wanted to have sex with me and drink my blood; that much was clear. I didn't know if the romantic side of things, the companionship, was part of the deal.

And was that what it would be? Just a deal? In lieu of wealth or property, he'd take my body? Though I had the strong impression I wouldn't find such an arrangement unpleasant, at least physically, every thought rebelled against trading sex for my safety and security.

I have tried sex. Yes, I kept to myself in college a lot, but I wasn't a nun. It took three years for me to get up the nerve to take the plunge, but I had done it. It was pretty awful. We'd been friendly for a little while. I did like him well enough, and I sure knew he liked me, even with my weirdness. One night our hormones just took over.

I had to shield my mind like crazy just to make it to the point where we were ready to do it. In retrospect, I almost wish I hadn't learned to make my shields that strong back then, or it probably wouldn't have happened at all. Of course, I don't think I could have dealt with attending college at all if they weren't. Day in, day out, so many different people with so many thoughts... I felt a great relief now, as I remembered.

I'd been distracted with the effort of keeping him out, so while I knew to expect that sharp pinch of pain, the moment when it actually occurred came as a shock. My mental defense faltered, and all the thoughts he was having about when he'd taken his high school girlfriend's virginity came through in a flash.

I spent about a month kicking myself for doing it. I couldn't even be mad at him. People can't help the thoughts that fly into their heads. That's something I'd known for years. He hadn't been mean to me, either during or after. He'd tried to keep talking to me in the days that followed. He liked how I looked naked, and was eager to try again. I just couldn't. I stopped trying to pretend I could have any semblance of a normal social life for a while after that. I ended up making really good grades that year.

So that had been it. I've been too leery to give it another go. I would not be dipping in to the human pool again, no matter what. We are just not compatible. I had always hoped that one day, if I met a nice opaque-minded shifter who was handsome enough and kind enough, maybe I'd get my chance. I was fairly confident that I could like sex, given the right conditions. I certainly enjoyed my own ministrations.

Thank you, Mr. January.

On Sunday I was back at Gran's in the afternoon. I'd brought over some laundry detergent and some napkins, as well as some beef and chicken for the freezer. Though she lived off a fairly modest pension, Gran had a great objection to taking what she called "charity." She would never allow me to buy her groceries, or God forbid, give her actual money. I was permitted to pick up things that happened to be on sale, however, and bring them by when I happened to visit. I happened to watch the flyers for sales on meat, soap, paper goods, and other more expensive items pretty regularly.

Though I busied myself while she finished the cooking with another long walk in the woods, I steered well clear of the fairy portal. Niall had hinted that there'd been fighting in his world of late, and that is what had kept him away. I was now convinced that the disturbance I had sensed the last time I'd been here was related to that. I was resolved to keep away.

We had the typical sharing of news as we ate our lunch. Jason harped on that the Parish's budget surplus would be rolled over, rather than be meted out to employees in the form of end of year bonuses, which had been the rumor in circulation. Gran and I both approved of the Parish's prudent plan. It was no real hardship to my brother. Jason's not rich, but as a single guy with no mortgage and no kids to support, he's doing just fine. He does his part for Gran as well, even beyond the handyman-type stuff. He'd had her propane tank filled last month when he did his. Just for the convenience of the propane delivery people, naturally. It'd be a waste if they had to drive all the way out to Bon Temps twice.

I didn't have much to talk about, since apart from my tourist trip to Fangtasia, I'd had a very humdrum sort of week. It was Gran who had the best gossip.

"Old Jesse Compton over the way passed on in his sleep on Thursday night," she announced.

Mr. Compton had been Gran's nearest neighbor. Ours too, when we used to live here. His antebellum home, still grander than this old farmhouse even its decay, was situated on the other side of Sweet Home Cemetery which abutted Gran's property to the south. I didn't remember old Mr. Compton well. I suppose Gran was friendly with him. Gran is friendly with practically everyone.

Obviously he would be buried in Sweet Home, but Gran said she didn't think there'd be much of a funeral. He didn't have any family left in these parts, which was why she did for him in the first place. We talked a bit about the big old house and the possibility of Gran getting some new neighbors sometime down the road. We weren't sure how long that might take to sort out, when there was no heir. The property would probably have to revert to the State or something, for a time, before it could be auctioned. That's what I guessed anyway.

As we were leaving, I warned Jason that he needed to check up on her more often during the week. He gave me a sullen, put upon look, and I smacked him on the shoulder, assuring him that I'd be calling her more as well. Gran is by no means a desolate old woman. I just wanted to keep it that way.

Mr. Cataliades phoned me late in the evening and I filled him in on what had been happening, chiefly as pertained to the Sheriff of Area Five and his knowledge of me.

"I suppose that must be part of the reason he's scheduled a meeting with me this week."

I tensed a little as he told me that, but forced myself to smooth my cool.

"Are you coming up here? If you let me know what night, I'll cook you dinner," I said invitingly.

"It seems that he'll be visiting down here for a number of days. Evidently he has some business with the Queen." By his tone of voice it was plain that while I might have been making an effort to try to trust Eric, he was not.

"I see."

"Do you suppose that's something you need to be concerned about?"

"I'm...pretty sure not. I think he and I have a...n...understanding on that score." I stumbled over exactly how to phrase it, but Mr. C didn't call attention to that.

"It will be an interesting week down here."

"He does have a knack for that," I agreed.

"To be sure, but apart from the Sheriff's visit, we'll be hosting Arkansas."

"Oh? Is he forwarding his courtship?" I wondered, remembering what Diantha had told me.

"I believe so."

He imparted no further details of the prospective vampire nuptials and we said goodnight shortly after. I'd sort of expected Eric or Pam to stop by that evening and fill me in on the Clancy situation, but neither did.

Work on Monday found me in my typical routine. I was a little disappointed to see that Ghellert wasn't in, I couldn't begrudge him a day off. He had worked nearly round the clock while Mintah was here, and quite a lot last week. I'm certain he needed some rest.

Tray Dawson was on duty, along with a Were named Curt. Curt was another great hulking figure. Weres do come in sizes small and slight, but you wouldn't know it meeting those who'd been assigned at Splendide. When introduced, Curt had greeted me with a warm, two-handed shake and a deferential nod that seemed to amuse Dawson.

"He's gotta be one of the friendliest wolves I've ever met," he murmured, once Curt had left us. I didn't know about that. Despite the grim face, Tray himself seemed friendly enough. I glanced around immediately to be certain we were away from any prying ears, garnering another smirk from the lone wolf. Naturally he assumed that he'd know better than I if anyone had been near enough to catch his remark. He could keep right on assuming. He was probably right at that particular moment anyway, since I wasn't listening out. It would take some getting used to, having more people around on a regular basis with whom I could speak somewhat freely. I knew we'd still have to be careful, but I decided it was kind of...nice.

"Listen, careful what you say around here. It's only Brenda and I who-"

"I know," he said interrupting me. "I guess it just feels good to be able to say something like that to someone who's not also two-natured. Or dead," he added as an afterthought. We were on the same page, then.

"Well, not too much longer, right?"

"Eh, years. They're only just starting to get organized beyond a local level, and loners like me well, we don't even get half a say."

"Curt's in the Shreveport pack?" I asked casually. I was fishing for a little more information about my new coworkers in general, but I was also curious about Tray. Did he ever feel pressure from the local pack to join up?

"Nah. The Sharp Claws over in Monroe, where he's from."

"That's kind of a trek," I mused, considering his commute.

"This job pays pretty well," he informed me.

"That's good I guess." I suppose Eric had negotiated pretty sweet terms with Mintah. He'd take his cut off the top before paying his guys of course.

"It is," Tray continued, not distracted as I was with mental accounting. "I got a boy looking like he's going to college to worry about lately."

I didn't let my face betray me as I observed that he looked a little young to have a son in high school. He was maybe only a few years older than me. It's not such a great rarity down here, young parents. Holly was one too, after all. It had probably caused no small amount of gossip if he came from a small town though. I resolved not to comment.

"Oh yeah? That's great," I smiled, and he smiled back. "Is he uh..."

"A Were? Nah. Runs like one though, with a football," he said proudly.

We shared another smile before I headed down to work. I had a collection of very old coins to go through. They're not my field of expertise. I could make estimates, but since coin collecting is such a very specific interest, these would be shipped to our specialist in another office. I just needed to make sure that everything was kosher. That was the byword that Brenda and I used, since it's not like she could ask me in front of others if everything was "human." Vampires and shifters would use regular money of course, and currency in the Fae world tended to be less...tangible. Sometimes though, you could get an emblem or other trinket of supernatural origin slipping in among the coins. Nothing special today, though. I finished them before lunch.

I took a couple of consultation calls in the afternoon. Human professionals in this field actually do network quite a bit. I enjoy that since it's done almost entirely over the phone or online. Sometimes, when you're at your wit's end trying to identify something, it's helpful to reach out to others who might have a clue.

Between the robbery and the holidays, we expected that business wouldn't really pick up again until after the new year. Come January we'd have a bit of appraisal to do, and some amount of what was basically gift exchange. When it's known that someone has an interest in antiques, it might be tempting to buy them something pretty and old when there's occasion to do so. Unfortunately, most collectors have very specific tastes, and well-meaning present-givers can easily miss the mark. After an event like Christmas, many pieces tend to find their way back on to the market. It's a good time to buy. So even though it was slow now, no one was particularly worried about the future of our business. If there's any trade that can take the long view of things, it's ours.

I thought that I might busy myself for the week doing research, and though it does consist of sitting around and reading, which I find pleasurable, it is not quite the same as slacking off. After all, the more knowledge that I have, the better I can do my job in the future. There's simply so much out there that I could spend a lifetime at it and never be done learning things.

The vast majority of my supernatural knowledge has been passed by word of mouth from those I've met, or listened to, or things I've heard in passing. I have a few books. The set that I particularly love were a gift from Niall on the occasion of my graduation.

They are a translation of what is effectively an encyclopedia from the Fae world, though it includes some things from this world, and some from some places I can't even begin to imagine. It's only three volumes, hand-written in a sometimes minuscule script. Apart from being full of information, the books are quite beautiful. They remind me of the illuminated manuscripts that humans produced in Europe in the middle ages, though of course they are much newer. They're written on true vellum (not paper vellum), made from the skin of the water sprites who helped kill my parents. That was intended to be part of the present.

Somewhat to Niall's disappointment, I didn't revel in that. I tried not to think of it. Every time I did, I had to convince myself that it was no different from regular vellum or leather, which come from cows. Really malicious cows. Whoever coined the term "fairy stories" to apply to nice and wonderful things really needs a cuff upside the head.

Apart from those books and a couple others I have access to, trying to do research on supernatural history and habits gets a little tricky. I've heard a rumor that the shifters have some kind of library, and boy would I love to get a visitor's card to that! Since I am not a shifter though, that wasn't going to happen. There's plenty that's been written down by humans, but you have to cherry-pick the fact from the fiction. Most often, research just leads me to questions. It's still a case of finding someone to provide the clarifying answers.

I bet Eric would be good for that. I might still have some Q&A time due me, for helping with Pam. He didn't say they had to be about him.

Brenda was pleased that I planned on making use of my down time to do something productive. Donald and Wilson had spent most of the morning downing eggnog in the break room and reading the newspaper. She ended up sending them home at midday, intending to handle any walk-ins herself. We did not get any.

Holly, Brenda, and I left together at five-thirty. Tray was coming off his shift as well and walked us three over to the parking lot. Initially I'd thought that Ghellert had just been continuing the habit of acting protective since he'd served the brief stint guarding me, but evidently it was now a formal procedure. Any employee departing after dark would need to do so with an escort. I was glad it was Tray and not one of the vampires who'd just come on duty. So was Brenda.

Eric turned up after I'd eaten dinner, but not to stay. When I gestured him inside he walked straight through to the living room and didn't turn around until he caught sight of my coffee table, bare of any cases of super valuable relics of vampire justice that may have been left behind.

"I've come to retrieve the case I left."

"Sure," I agreed, and went back to fish it out from under the guest bed. He followed me and hovered in the doorway as I crouched down.

"Nosy," I said, not that this was exactly the world's most secure hiding place.

"Enjoying the view," he informed me, breaking my gaze to let his eyes wander back to my behind.

"Charming." I rolled my eyes. Still kneeling, I set the case on the bed and opened it, ready to take the knives out.

"Actually, I was hoping to borrow the silver."

Ah.

"Clancy?" I asked.

"Yes."

"What's happening there?"

"It is not for me to decide. When I informed the Queen of his treachery, she decided that she would act as the arbitrator. I am ordered to bring him before her in New Orleans. We leave tonight."

"Oh, that's good," I said absently. It was good, since it answered satisfactorily why Eric had meetings with the Queen this week, but if he had to leave tonight, I guess it meant we wouldn't be talking...

"It is inconvenient," he said peevishly. "I am her Sheriff. Does she not trust me to carry out a fit punishment on one of my own?"

I bit my lip, trying not to smile. It wasn't that I was pleased about his irritation, but he just seemed so... like a person...as he showed it.

"Is that so strange? That she'd summon you?"

"Not unheard of, but uncustomary. This matter pertains to my child, and she has decided that for the sake of appearing aboveboard, she will pass the judgment. I should have just let Pam stake him," he continued ruefully. "Because he was not an immediate threat, I decided it would be best to follow the proper protocol."

"She probably just wants you around while the Arkansas vamps are there," I said consolingly.

"What?"

I knew he'd heard me so I was a little confused by the question.

Finally he said, "Arkansas will be visiting New Orleans this week?"

"Oh. Yes, sorry. I just figured you knew."

"I did not."

"Oh," I shrugged. "Well, now you do."

He seemed to consider it for a long moment before making a short sound of derision. I looked up at him puzzled, but he didn't answer.

"So she's what, having you in for backup? Showing you off?"

"Yes," he agreed. "Catching me off guard, and putting her dominion over me on display to her guests as well."

"Yuck," I agreed. His comment had come in a flat, indifferent tone, but there was no hiding the unpleasantness of that situation. "Well, it could be worse," I said, all Miss Mary Sunshine. "At least you don't have to deal with that stuff all the time, right?"

He peered down at my tentative smile and finally nodded.

"Do you have to get going right away?" I asked.

He was beside me then and his hand came down and caught a piece of my hair. He brushed against my neck as he twirled it through his fingers.

"Were you hoping for some alone time with me?"

I swallowed. He'd stayed across the room as we chatted, but since I was still sitting back on my heels and he was now standing right beside me, I brushed his hand out of my hair and stood up. He was still watching me with that expectant leer once I was on my feet.

"Yes," I answered. "We need to talk. I want to know about Clancy, and there are a lot of other things." For a distraction, and to keep myself from pinking up, I asked, "Do you need the gold too, or just the silver?"

"Just the silver," he said, and when I plucked the knife he would not be taking out of the case, he stepped forward and closed it, tucking it under one arm. I wanted to warn him to return the knife clean and intact, but then his hand was back cupping my neck.

"We do need to talk, and other things," he agreed. "But I will not be gone for long. Pam will be remaining here, if there should be some emergency."

"She's not going with you? Won't she need to testify, if it's a trial?"

"I am taking Long Shadow and the girl from the club, his human. Pam will remain with Indira and Maxwell Lee to run the bar while I am gone."

"So, why did he do it? Why'd he help Jack get Pam?"

Eric gave me one of his considering stares which seem designed to make me feel uncomfortable while he buys time to decide how much to tell me. I raised my eyebrows letting him know to hurry it along. I felt I was owed the explanation.

"Clancy acted as my second-in-command before the Great Revelation, before I called Pam back to me."

"So he was jealous of her?" I asked.

"He is not very...he felt he would do the best job." The way he said it was odd, and I wondered if maybe there wasn't more between them.

"Were you two um, lovers?"

He laughed. "No."

"So he wanted to go back to being your second, and he thought he'd dispose of Pam through the witches?"

"Something like that."

"Something like...?" I pressed.

"He has confessed to learning of, and fostering the witches' plot, and helping to abduct Pam. He had planned to help to apprehend them, once the deed was done. As to the motivations, he has not said. I am unconcerned with his reasons. Clancy has lacked due deference in the past. Perhaps he could have simply left my area, but he chose this instead. If not for you, Pam would be dead or worse. He will pay."

"And my part in it all is staying between us, yes? You're not going to mention you had help from a telepath at all, right? Not even an unidentified one?"

"No. Between Pam's lover and this Dirk, I will say I gleaned enough to track them down. If he should happen to mention the presence of a blonde woman at the club, and it is unlikely, it will only have been as someone who had seen Dirk in the salon and been glamored into speaking of him."

"Good," I breathed. I was glad he'd given some thought to the contingency, and wouldn't have to come up with an explanation on the spot.

"And, what about the girl from the gift shop?" I asked.

"She will testify that Clancy hinted his resentment for Pam."

"And then?"

"Then she will decide that she dislikes her employer enough to quit her job."

I nodded. That was for the best. After hearing her thoughts I could even believe that, in the absence of Clancy, she might have made that decision on her own.

"So... how long will you be gone?"

"I will return sometime Friday in the night."

I nodded.

"It may be late," he added.

"Well, maybe you can put me your schedule some time soon then."

"Yes," he agreed, and he stepped closer, bowing his head to my neck. He drew a long slow breath, taking my scent, and I felt his fangs brush ever so lightly across the skin. I shivered.

He stepped back, and I suppose I had to be grateful that he'd gotten neither of us too riled up again. He nodded towards the door, and I nodded back. He had to leave. His Queen was expecting him.

I followed him back to the front door and was pleased when he seemed to linger another moment.

"Oh," I remembered. "Eric?"

"Yes, Sookie?" I enjoyed hearing him say my name.

"Why are you meeting with Cataliades?"

He arched a brow. That was evidently not the question he'd expected.

"We have things to discuss."

"Regarding me?"

"Yes."

"Are you going to tell me what?" I asked impatiently.

"Yes," he repeated, with a tiny wink.

He really does know how to make an exit.

The next morning I got another chat with Tray wherein I learned that unlike our old group of guards who were mostly ex-military, he instead was an ex-cop. Though he hailed from up here, he'd worked down in New Orleans. From both his mind and his manner as he spoke, I got that there was a little more to that story than he was telling, but I didn't want to pry just at that moment.

The other Were on duty that day was a man named Parnell Whatley and he didn't seem interested in joining in our small talk in the slightest.

"He's one of Flood's," Tray offered, as if that were some explanation for the standoffish behavior. "He's with the Pack here."

"Good to know," I said.

I talked for a minute or two with Holly who was busy writing up a list. I was a little surprised when she reminded me that Christmas was this coming Sunday, only five days away. It wasn't that I'd been unaware of the date or anything, but there always seems to be that point each year when, after ignoring weeks or even months of holiday ads, you realize that Christmas actually finally is just around the corner. The party at work would be Friday. Actually I didn't think we were still calling it a party. It had been downgraded to a luncheon at the end of last week. With Dan and Greg and everyone so newly gone, subdued seemed just about right.

I knew they'd get other assignments; they were good guards. I could understand why the decision to hire the supes had been made. It didn't stop the fact that putting our old guys out of work, especially at this time of year, was just lousy. I doubted Mintah had given it any thought at all.

Brenda and I went out to eat lunch together, as we did a couple of times during a normal work week. For once it was my phone that rang to interrupt our meal, rather than hers, which rarely seemed to stop.

I peered down at the little window and frowned. It was an odd time for Gran to be calling.

"Gran?" I answered. "Everything okay?"

"Better than okay honey." She sounded like she'd been crying.

"What's going on?"

"It's Hadley."

"Is she-"

"Honey, she's home."

I gasped.

"She's...?"

"She's here. She's right here. Oh, Sookie, can you come out tonight?"

"What's going on?" Brenda asked. I had no idea what kind of expression was on my face.

"I'll get there as soon as I can, Gran." A dozen questions were flying through my head. Was she alright? Where had she been? Was she still on drugs? Was she sick? "Did you call Jason?"

"He's coming right over after work," she told me.

"I'll be there too."

"Okay baby, we'll see you soon."

She hung up. I stared down at my phone in disbelief.

"My... cousin is home," I told my boss.

"The runaway?" Brenda asked. I hadn't talked about Hadley much, but would come up occasionally when we chatted about our families. Mine is so small, I just didn't have many people to talk about. Hadley wasn't exactly a runaway. She was closer to Jason's age, and she'd been a legal adult when she left, but it was a near enough explanation that I didn't bother correcting her.

"Yeah."

"Home for Christmas," Brenda said.

"Yeah," I repeated.

"You okay Sookie?"

"Yeah."

It's been more than six years since we'd even heard from her, and the last time had been... She'd been into drugs and sex and a style of living that was not conducive to, well, living. We'd all thought she'd died, or at best that she never wanted to be found.

"Damn." I muttered, still a little shell-shocked.

"Do you want to get right over there?"

"I'll go straight there after work," I said.

"I think the selkies can wait until tomorrow," she said, in reference to my planned research. She dropped her voice even lower. "They're just wereseals anyway."

"They've left a rich archaeological record scattered throughout the islands and the coasts of the North Atlantic," I murmured. "They're well documented."

"Sookie."

"Hm?"

"You have my permission to leave early."

"Thanks."

I needed time to digest. Isn't Easter the holiday for the resurrections?

"Sookie, snap out of it."

"Right," I mumbled. "Sorry. Let's get the check."

She waved the slim black folder in front of me. I guess I'd missed a minute or two there. I produced the bills to pay for my lunch and parted from Brenda while she went inside and I went to my car. I'd locked the lab when I left and the only things I'd brought into work had been my purse and jacket, both of which I had with me.

I drove to Gran's house more or less on autopilot. Before I knew it I was coming up the gravel drive. This really needed replacing. I stepped out of the car and there she was. Her thin arms wrapped around me as she bent her head against my shoulder. I patted her back.

"Hey Had," I said.

"Hey Sook," she said, smiling through tears. It looked like she'd been crying for hours. I'm sure she had been.

We sat at the kitchen table while Gran cooked and sat down with us at intervals. Hadley wasn't talking about whatever the hell she'd been up to, so Gran and I were obliged to fill her in on our lives. She'd known about Linda. She said she'd clipped the obituary and had kept it. I nodded when she relayed that. She sure as heck hadn't turned up for the funeral, nor even sent a card.

Jason banged through the door a few minutes after four and Hadley was on her feet again in a flash.

"Christ girlie, where in Sam Hill have you been?" he said, hugging her tightly.

"Jason, I'm sorry," she said.

"Forget it Hadley," my brother said, smoothing her hair. I didn't quite know what that was about, which is pretty rare for me, but then again, I make an active effort to stay out of my brother's head. I wouldn't read Gran as much as I do if she minded the way Jason does. She doesn't though. She knows I can't relax if I'm actively trying to block her out. "Damn it's good to see you."

My brother lacked the tact of Gran and I, who come to the tacit agreement that we'd let Hadley tell her tale in her own time. He was unwilling to wait, and after his second, "No seriously, where the hell have you been?" he got a thwack on the back of the head with an oven mitt for his cussin', and Hadley began to talk. I listened to her with my ears and my other sense.

When she'd left us, she gone to New Orleans, hoping to reconnect with her father and her father's family. They were well-to-do people of the sort that can recite you the names of their great great great grandparents, not because they're history buffs like our Gran, but because they believed that their family was better than most other people's and had been for quite some time. When that didn't turn out well, she'd gone straight back to the party scene, and worked in various clubs and bars. She'd enjoyed what she admitted in front of Gran was, "too much fun," but which I could see in her head had sometimes been about the furthest thing from fun that you can get and still make it out alive.

She managed to straighten herself out a bit, after a time. She met a nice man with a good and steady job, and she married him, which shocked Gran. She was Hadley Savoy now, having done away with her father's name of Delahoussaye. She'd had a pregnancy, but lost the baby, and things had got bad for her again, she told us. She'd inched back to her wild ways and filed for a divorce when she decided she wanted no more ties.

It was about that time when she realized she was no longer interested in men at all, though she didn't say that out loud to our grandmother either. When her girlfriend had turned up dead, she realized she'd had her fill of New Orleans. She'd been living in Houston these last two years, where she worked as a hostess at a restaurant and lived with another girl who worked there.

What I knew, because she turned to me and thought directly at me, in the way we used to do when we were kids and wanted to keep secrets from Jason, was that the girl she'd been living with had been her girlfriend, as well as a Were.

Hadley had questions.

"Why'd you leave Houston?" Jason asked. "Or are you just visiting?"

"I...I might have done something stupid," Hadley started.

At that point the three of us, in unison, breathed out the same heavy sigh. Jason was the first to chuckle. Gran followed suit. I made myself smile along with them. I couldn't laugh at the moment.

Hadley's "something stupid," she confessed, was cheating. She considered briefly telling us that she had slept with the woman's boyfriend, but decided to go with the truth, explaining to Gran that her roommate had been more than a friend. Gran took that news in her stride while Hadley was speaking. She'd work it out for herself later on.

I saw immediately that it was the getting caught part of the business that Hadley really regretted. Her suddenly ex-girlfriend had responded to the infidelity by kicking Hadley out of the shared apartment and torching all of her possessions in a dumpster behind a Target store. No such thing as a burn-barrel in the big city, I guess.

I'm pretty sure that Hadley could have showed up with bloody hands and a body to hide and still found a welcome on Gran's doorstep that day. Once she had told us her edited version of the worst, our grandmother simply embraced her and assured her that everything was going to be okay now. Since Jason had only ever escaped the branding of "cheater" by virtue of never committing to a woman for more than a night or two, he was indifferent. He certainly understood the impulse to roam. That left prudish old me alone in my disapprobation.

She'd turned up here only because she'd had nowhere else to go. Was it really the first time she'd been in this position? From the story she'd told of the life she'd led, it was hard to imagine that this was truly the first time she'd been at the end of her rope.

I felt guilty about it, but I really couldn't help being suspicious of my cousin.

Hadley hadn't arrived with much. I wasn't sure how she'd gotten here. There'd been no extra car in Gran's driveway. She had a little money with her, but no savings she could have relied on. Gran found some clothes for her to wear for a day or two, an mishmash of her own things and some of those that I hadn't taken to Shreveport. Hadley had complained good-naturedly that the pair of my old jeans she wore, ones I'd left behind because they no longer fit me, were "way loose" on her. Gran was planning to take her shopping in the morning to get her enough things to tide her over. She didn't even have a toothbrush.

We stayed through dinner and a long while afterwards, but finally it was time for me to get going and Jason opted to hit the road as well. Hadley was out front saying goodnight to my brother while Gran went back to tend to the guest room. I slipped in the room after her and she shot me a smile over her shoulder.

"I'm so glad she's home," Gran told me, as if she needed to.

"I'm happy too," I said. "It's weird though."

"What's got you worried?"

"I don't know," I shrugged. "I hope you talk to her, Gran. She's been away for so long...we don't even know her anymore."

"She's family," Gran said firmly.

"Of course, I never said she wasn't. I'm glad she's home...I just want to be sure she's home for good."

"Me too," Gran admitted.

We said our goodbyes. I went out and found Hadley hanging around on the back porch. I caught sight of Jason's taillights just turning on to the road.

"So you're living in Shreveport now?" my cousin asked.

"Yup," I agreed. We'd covered this earlier.

"Do you like it?"

"Yeah, I do."

"You're really an archaeologist?" I tried not to mind that she sounded disbelieving.

"Yeah. I work in a lab though, no Indiana Jones stuff."

She met my brief smile with an airy chuckle.

"That's cool," she said. "Um, Sookie?"

"Yes?"

"Could I talk to you sometime, about things?"

"Things like how your mother died of cancer believing you were dead in a ditch somewhere, or things like how you left a pissed off werewolf behind in Houston?"

Her eyes widened for a moment before she shut them entirely. I'd been polite and smiling all evening, at least outwardly. I hadn't let on before that moment that I'd picked up what she'd tried to convey to me about the dual nature of her ex-girlfriend.

"Both," she whispered.

I waited until she was looking at me again and I gave her a level nod.

"Then yes. We can talk about things."

"Okay."

"Not tonight though. I got work in the morning."

"Not tonight," she agreed.

"Soon," I assured her.

"Thank you."

A/N: To preempt concerns: no Hunter, no Hadley+QSA. If you did not guess already, Mr. Cataliades would not be so committed to protecting Sookie's obscurity if Hadley were up in Sophie-Anne's boudoir spilling family secrets the whole time. All I'll say is that she's still Hadley. Hopefully you'll still come along?