Still Eric's POV:

We waited for half an hour, too long if you asked me, before Sylvester came back out. "She'll be fine. I do not want her back to work, Mr. Northman, for a week." I didn't like the way he said my name. "Against my orders, she wants to see you."

Maybe there was hope.

He continued. "Pam, Bill, can you be with her? She must not be aggravated."

They both nodded. Sookie chortled.

And we headed into the bedroom, still without anything to say. The first thing I noticed was she had changed clothes and sitting on the side, her body tilted toward us. She still looked angry, but she looked wonderful.

I know I fucked up. Hurting Connee was the last thing I wanted to do. But here we were at a crossroad. And I had no damned idea which way it would lead us.

Connee's POV:

When Sookie, Pam, Bill and Eric walked into the bedroom after Sylvester left, I thought I was doomed. It was a good thing the doctor gave me a tranquilizer, though it hadn't taken effect yet. I wish it had. Sookie came to sit beside me on the bed. She put her hand on my shoulder, but I pulled away. It was nothing personal. She had done a lot for me. There was nothing she could do to console me. Pam and Bill—god, he was hot, but mean looking, meaner than Eric—stood firmly at Eric's side between the bed and the door.

Eric. The one being I didn't want to see. But here he was. I looked him over carefully. He still looked the same. But his eyes—they were filled with something I'd never seen before. I quickly averted my eyes.

"Connee," Eric said softly. I couldn't speak. "You look well."

"I feel better."

"I'm glad to hear it. Connee, I ..." I saw Bill tense up, "There's nothing I can say to make up for what I've done."

His voice killed me—the pain and quivering. I wasn't going to cry. He wasn't going to make me feel bad for something he did. "What got into you? Why ... why couldn't you stop?" Eric bowed his head. He didn't answer. "Did you want it to happen again?" I asked, not even thinking that might have been something he didn't want known.

That was obvious when Bill, Pam and Sookie shot Eric curious, eyebrow raising glares.

"No, no. Of course not."

"What happened? Explain it to me. I deserve that much."

Eric nodded in agreement. "You have an amazingly irresistible scent of allure to me." He took a step closer, but his body guards did not stop him, though they remained on high alert. "No human can ever understand."

He glanced to his side, and I knew he wanted to say more. He was afraid to speak with the others there. God help me, but I let him off the hook. "Guys, can you leave us alone for a minute?" I was surprised how much control I had over my voice; my mind was another matter.

"No," Bill interjected. "Absolutely not."

"Connee, are you sure that's wise?" Sookie asked me.

"No. But I want to hear what he has to say."

"We'll be right outside," Pam said, surprising me a little.

"No," Sookie said as she approached Bill. "You and Pam will wait in the living room, out of ear shot. I will wait by the door if anything happens."

Bill growled but took her hand and led her out. Pam was the last to leave, and I could have sworn I saw a look of warning in her eyes towards Pam.

By then, my head was beginning to spin a little, so I put my feet on the bed and propped myself up on the pillows. And I waited for Eric to explain. But he took a step closer to the end of the bed. I put my hand up for him to stop.

"I felt your body go limp, Connee, but I couldn't stop. I didn't want to hurt you; didn't want to kill you. You have to believe that."

What was I supposed to say to that? That's right—nothing.

"I wanted you so badly at that moment I ... I lost control. If Pam ..." He closed his eyes briefly. "I would have indeed killed you if she hadn't pulled you away. I was certain I'd ripped a chunk of your skin ... I would have attacked her if she wasn't holding you. I could barely hear your heart beat. I thought you were ... Pam said she was bringing you back to her house, here, and for me to stay the hell away from you."

The tranquilizer was definitely kicking in, as I had trouble focusing on him.

"I couldn't stay away. Pam called Bill for Sookie to watch over you, but I think she really wanted Bill here to ... Connee, I would never ... can you ever forgive me?"

We stared at the other for several long, tense moments. "Eric, I have never forgiven my father; I have yet to forgive. I honestly don't know if I can ever forgive you." I yawned long and hard, no longer able to keep my eyes open.

"Oh, Connee," he said regretfully.

"Eric, no, don't, please," I pleaded weakly. I just couldn't hear anymore.

He nodded then turned and walked towards the door. "Eric," I called out. He turned and looked at me. "I know you feel something for me because of your tears. Give me time to figure out what I feel for you."

Again he nodded and left me alone to my thoughts, a total of ten seconds before I fell back to sleep.

But what Mr. Eric Northman had planned for himself later that morning was nothing I would have imagined him ever doing.

Eric's POV:

Walking in, I could have killed Pam for making me agree to this. I made a mental note to kill her again within the next few decades. Sure, I know I'm vain enough to have it done before, but it was never here. It was always in private. Never with other vamps seeing me degrade myself. But at least I'd look good—not that I needed that much help.

A perky, short little pixey with big brown eyes, her fangs exposed, approached us. "Sheriff, it's an honor to have you here."

"Get on with it, Dani," Pam warned.

"Right. This way, Sir. We'll want to wash your hair first."

I sat in the chair, the cape was draped over me, clipped in the back. Dani had a look of excitement in her eyes that definitely made me apprehensive. Oh, yeah, Pam dies again.

Seconds later, it was over. Dani spent a little too long rinsing the conditioner out of my hair. But honestly, I had to admit, her fingers gave an awesome massage. That didn't mean I would give her more of a tip, though.

"So, Pam, what are we doing tonight?" Dani asked as I sat in the chair across from the mirror of her station. I just knew she and Pam planned on making me walk out with mult-colored hair in a Mohawk. Maybe I'd color Pam's hair pink before ... no, she likes pastels. She'd probably like it.

"What I want done is this …" I informed her.

Dani set about cutting and trimming and smiling in a way that I didn't like nor appreciated.

I'll win Connee back. This was only the beginning.

Connee's POV:

I was groggy as hell when I woke up hours later. It was still dark outside, which was great because the sun wouldn't hurt my eyes. I stretched long and hard and felt better. Oh, man, did I ever have to pee badly. It must have been the fluids Sylvester had given me. I threw my legs over the bed and tested my feet first before I stood, my hands still on the bed, just in case I got weak. I was proud of myself for making it to the bathroom on my own. I tried to avoid looking in the mirror, but caught my reflection anyway. What a mess. It looked like squirrels had been trying to build a nest in my hair. And my face ... ugh. Sitting on the toilet, I stared at the shower curtain and figured I was strong enough to take a shower. Then my stomach growled.

After undressing, I pulled the shower curtain back and grinned. Pam sure liked to primp up. There were three different types of shampoos and conditioners, with four bars of soap, all still wrapped. I ran the water to the right temperature and stepped in. It was absolutely the best shower I'd ever have in my entire life. And yet, it did nothing to help me come to a conclusion about Eric.

I dried my hair, leaving it a little damp to allow the little waves that presented themselves when I did. A flowery scent assaulted my nose. I'd never noticed it before. Maybe it was the conditioner, although it didn't smell like flowers when I went to put it in my hair.

Hoping Pam was thoughtful enough to leave food downstairs, I stepped out of the bathroom and my mouth dropped. There were four bouquets of roses, all lavender, set strategically throughout the room. The one closest to me was on the nightstand, and I saw a card in the tendrils.

I so didn't want this. Did he honestly think a few flowers would make me think everything was all peachy keen? And he was here? It only pissed me off more.

I slipped on the pair of jeans and t-shirt that were lying on the bed then decided what I was going to do about Eric. That lasted about two seconds with no resolution. I kept staring at the flowers by the bed. I told myself I'd flush them down the toilet. And that's what I set myself on doing.

I grabbed the vase and walked into the bathroom, but the damned card kept screaming at me. Setting the vase on the sink, I removed the card and looked at the one word, written in handwriting I recognized as Eric's: Downstairs. Meet him downstairs? What an ass! I grabbed the bouquet in a huff and threw them in the toilet, stuffing them down hard. But I never flushed them. With my current luck, it would get backed up and the water would spill all over the floor. And I was not in the mood to clean anything up.

I pulled them out and threw them in the trash bin beside the commode, pressing them down so they wouldn't fall out. I stood up and looked at the trash can, my hands on my hips. Only then did I feel my palms burn and hurt like hell. I'd forgotten about the damned thorns. Looking at the watery blood, I remembered when Eric licked my wounds I'd previously inflicted upon myself. I could even feel his cool tongue lapping at my skin, and smiling up at me with his eyes.

Sighing heavily, I went to the next bouquet that was set on the small table by the window, against my better judgment. The card read, 'go.' Oh, here we go with the damned demands! The next card had written, 'and.' Okay, so, I got it: 'Go downstairs and' ... And what? Make passionate love to me? Tell me you love me? Get down on my knees and ... I rushed to the last vase, set on the dresser by the door and read it. 'Eat.' Okay, I just needed to calm down.

I headed down the hallway to the kitchen and saw Sookie standing in front of the stove. "Sookie?" She turned around startled. "I'm sorry, sorry."

"No, it's okay. I thought you were ... Eric." So, he was in the bedroom. "How are you feeling?" she asked.

"Much better. Sookie, I don't like you doing all this for me."

"It's not a problem. Have a seat. I'm almost done."

A carafe of coffee was sitting on the table so I poured a cup. "How could you let Eric in the bedroom? I was in the shower."

"Oh, I'm sorry. But you know how fast he is. I was in the living room when he rushed in."

"Do you know he left me flowers?"

She turned around sharply. "He did?" I hated the smile on her face.

"Yeah." Maybe she hadn't seen him.

"The only time I saw him he told me to make you something to eat."

"Why? Just because he asked you to?" I was appalled.

"No, Connee," she said as she set the plate of food in front of me. "I did it for Bill. Now eat. When you're done, I'll take you back to your apartment."

I didn't touch the food but looked over her face. "Wow, you look exhausted."

"I am," she sighed. "You'd think I'd get used to being with a ..."

I was just about to put the fork to my mouth when I finished her sentence. "Vampire?"

"Yeah."

We didn't talk while I ate, and I didn't want to. As I took the last bite and finished the coffee, Sookie's cell phone rang. She flipped it over and grunted. "What?" she answered coldly. I figured it was Eric, as it was still dark outside. She said nothing else but closed her phone. "Connee, look out the window," she said calmly yet cautiously.

"Why? Is Eric out there? Like that would—"

"Yeah, he is. Just go look." I could tell she was trying to hide a smile.

I threw my hands up in the air exasperated. I scooted the chair out from under me and went to the window, each step feeling like I was walking in molasses. Pulling back the curtain I saw Eric standing under the driveway lamp post and ... I bust out laughing.

Eric was wearing dress pants, a buttoned down dress shirt, a jacket, and shiny, black dress shoes. I thought for sure I was hallucinating. When I'd calmed down, I looked over his face. Even in the dim lighting, I could see his cheeks were rosey pink; he must have fed. Well, at least he was thinking of curbing his appetite before ... then I noticed his hair. It was very light blonde, not greasy looking or dark like he always wore it, and it was trimmed, cut and styled close to his scalp. No more pony tail! I could see highlights around his face.

"Oh, my god!" I stuttered.

He was holding flowers—more flowers, ugh—and smiling. I had never, ever seen Eric without his fangs, and he did look ... completely different. I gulped hard. What was he doing? What the hell was he thinking?

Eric looked off to the horizon and shuffled his feet. I knew the sun was coming up soon and he'd be off to his coffin. I laughed at that. He bowed, set the flowers on the ground at his feet, mouthed 'I'm sorry' then flashed off.

"Oh, goody. What else does Danny Zuko have up his sleeve?"

"I don't know, Sandy," Sookie snickered beside me. How long had she been standing there? "But he's off to a good start, don't you think?"