A/N: Well here goes nothing. I do not own the characters; I just like to play with them. Especially the Viking sex god. This is a completely all human story, I think my plot bunnies are afraid of the dark..lol

As a writer, people watching became a new pastime, making up stories about the ordinary people walking by the café, changing the frazzled mom with two small children into the leading lady that gets to bed the strong handsome man, while the children are perfect angels for the governess. Or something like that. So today was like any other day. I purchased my coffee and hauled my laptop to my usual table under the awning. Looking across the road, I noticed a shop was being slated to open soon. Aside from that little tidbit, there really wasn't anything interesting, so I checked my e-mail, looking to see if my agent/editor and best friend had heard anything about my contract. I had been trying to get a green light to write a new novel, not the ones that fit in with the Harlequins and Silhouettes. I was ready to try my hand at love stories. Sadly my love life hasn't been where I would like it to be. I mean, how was it that I didn't see that my older brother, the one that everyone knew as a skirt chaser, was having an affair with my boyfriend, again how I missed those little signs, I'll never know. Anyway, the book that I want to write is going to be set in the time of the Vikings. I had become quite interested in Norse mythology as I was researching for my other stories. It didn't really help that it was spurred on by this 6'5" blonde god that I ran into at the market.

It was a day like any other, just heading to the market to pick up something for dinner. Staring down the kid at the meat department was getting a bit old. The kid was always trying to convince me that buying the whole chicken was cheaper than just getting the quarters.

"I don't need the whole chicken. I am only cooking for one, why do I need a whole chicken?" Have I mentioned that I am single? "What am I going to do with the rest of it, when I only want the quarter?"

"Ma'am," the kid behind the counter started. I think the name tag said Steve, not really caring at the moment. "You could just freeze the rest. That way you will have chicken for another day."

In hindsight, the outburst that I made after Steve spoke, was probably uncalled for, and I will most likely be quite embarrassed later on but, a woman can only take so much.

"Listen here Steve. I don't need the whole chicken. I live alone, what am I going to do with a whole chicken, when I am only cooking for me, myself, and I?" Did I also mention that it was a Saturday and the meat department was really busy? I was really wound up now, to the point that I didn't notice the man walk up behind me until I felt his huge hand on my shoulder.

"Is this man causing problems Miss?" Oh, that voice could melt butter. I think I just melted a little too.

"No, no," I turned to look at the man. Jesus Christ Shepherd of Judea. I just about faint. The man is sex on a stick. Mentally I check to make sure I didn't just drool all over myself. "I'm sorry. No, just having a day I guess." I turn to look at Steve, "I'm sorry. I really didn't mean to shout." I turn to leave when the hand didn't leave my shoulder.

"Would you like to have dinner with me?" Tall blonde and gorgeous asks. I am floored, that is for sure.

"Um, do you normally ask random, psychotic women to dinner?"

"No, but I could use the company and I think the whole store knows that you need it too." Wow. I mean wow, who could turn down an offer like that? Me, that's for sure.

"You know what," why did I just pause there? "I think I will take you up on that." Wait what? What part of my brain wasn't engaged for the conversation that just took place?

"Great, what is your address, I'll pick you up around, say 6:30?"

"That would be great. Do I get a name too, or is that an after dinner treat?" Seriously, what part of my brain is talking here?

"Eric Northman," He holds out his massive hand for mine.

"Sookie, Sookie Stackhouse," I took his hand. It was warm, and it made my hand seem so small. I gave him my address and phone number.

After the disaster and impromptu dinner invite, I got home unscathed. I kept running that whole conversation with Eric through my head. I finally figured out which part of my brain wasn't there for the man haters club of America meeting. The sex deprived one. Well that isn't going to help me. For the 2.5 minutes that I was near Eric, he seemed like a nice guy. So what is a hot man like that doing asking a nut job like me out? Doesn't he have a wife or woman at home? Oh God, what if he's gay? That will put me 2-2 in the totally didn't see that one coming column.

So after going through my closet and making sure that I wasn't dressed too sexy/ too blah, I was ready to go. This was at 6:00. A half hour and five wardrobe changes later, the door bell rang. I opened the door to see Eric with a huge bouquet of daisies, my favorite, dressed in a pair of black slacks and a charcoal polo shirt. Definitely drool worthy.

"Eric, hello, please come in." I smiled brightly. It has been a really long time since any man has brought me flowers.

"You look beautiful Sookie," he handed me the flowers. I quickly found a vase for them.

"Thank you Eric, daisies are my favorite."

"That's good to know. Are you ready to go?" A loaded question if I have ever heard one.

**

TBC