After hanging my clothes up in the closet and feeding Heather, I changed into my lounge clothes and got on the bed. I'd have to make a run to a pet store to buy her some toys. When she finally settled down, it took me hours to fall asleep. And what was on my mind when I did fall to sleep followed me into my dreams ...

I'm lying in bed on my side, asleep. I hear my name and open my eyes. I smile. "Hi."

"Hello, sweetheart." His voice reminds me of Bill's, but it's not Bill standing by my bed, naked.

My eyes trace over his body, from head to toe. His fangs are long and sharp, and so is his penis. "Hmm, wanna join me?" I ask, sitting up.

He shakes his head. "Not quite yet," he says, taking a step closer. "There is something that needs some attention, though."

I know what he wants, and so do I. I scoot over closer to the side of the bed and take his penis into my hand, working it just the way I know he likes it. Looking up at him seductively, his hand reaches out for my breast, slowly cupping and pinching my nipple. He growls, and it drives me insane.

"Now, my little scrumptious one, lie on your back." His voice sounds so far away, yet every syllable plunges to my sweet spot, down below.

Before I realize it, Eric enters me, grinds his hips into mine, his dick touching every single nerve in me. He pulls out completely, and takes my face in his hands. "Look at me, Connee." He pushes inside me again, forcing me to arch my back and throw my head back. He forcefully pulls my face back up. "I want to see your face when you cum." He kisses me, his fangs scraping against my bottom lip, our tongues search for the others in a fevered passion. Without another word, he pounds hard into me, making me whine and moan until he pulls almost out, then rams deeper into me. The noises and groans that are coming out of my mouth are primal, something I'd never heard come from my lips before.

He continues to pound and grind into me, and just as the much wanted orgasm is within my reach, there's a crash out in the hallway. But I don't give a shit. I love feeling him inside me and I hunger for release.

Another crash ...

I bolted upright in bed, looking around me in a daze. I felt my drenched panties thanks to the dream. Then I hear something in the living room. "Eric? Is that—"

"No, bitch." Susie walked into my bedroom, brandishing a pistol.

Why does all this shit happen to me? "How the hell did you get in here?" I demanded. Little Heather stretched then curled right back to sleep.

"Oh, you know," she replied as she stepped into the room, "did a little this, did a little Eric." She wiggled the apartment key in her hand then sat on the edge of the bed, the pistol aimed at my forehead.

I glanced out the window. It was still dark, though the birds were beginning to chirp softly outside. I hoped Eric was still out there somewhere and could see what was happening and come and rescue me. Like he always did.

"GET OFF MY BED!" I don't know whether I was angry that she was on my bed, or that she did what she said she did. Did it really matter? If it didn't, I wouldn't have gotten angry.

"You play this little game of being Eric's little subbie, as he calls me ... oops," she corrected maliciously, "but he doesn't want you."

"You can have him as far as I'm concerned," I snapped, although I didn't convince myself.

"Oh, I don't want him, Connee. I want you."

"Why? What have I ever done to you? I stuttered.

"You killed Michael."

"Eric, Eric killed him. He had to. He almost—"

She extended her arm further, took a step close, the pistol only inches from me and cocked it. I was too shaken up to do anything. "Do it," I challenged, my voice quivered. "I don't care anymore."

"Get up," she demanded, ignoring my request. I slid off the other side of the bed and walked to the end of it, my hands up defensively, as the gun was then pointing at my chest. "Tsk, tsk," she said. Who's cowering now?"

"You will be," came a voice from the doorway. Susie turned to look at Eric, who stood smugly and confidently. "Why would you want to waste those beautiful breasts that I happen to adore?"

Susie grinned, but I could tell she lost her poise. "I'm warning you, Eric, stay back."

"Oh, that's hardly a threat," he replied.

"Eric, stay back," I pleaded.

Within a single heartbeat, Eric had her wrist in a tight grip, holding the gun. He forced her hand down and was bringing it back when a loud, cracking explosion filled the small bedroom. An intense, sharp pain tore through my collarbone that forced me back onto the dresser. I tried to hold myself up but slid to the floor. I couldn't even find the strength to see what Eric was doing to Susie, although I had some idea.

"Eric," I muttered. It was soft, and barely audible to me, but I knew he would hear me. "Don' kill 'er."

There was a little more scuffling then Eric was at my side. I heard a soft ripping noise, the faint smell of something metallic. I knew what it was. He was going to give me his blood.

"No, Eri'."

"You'll die."

"Then le' me die."

"I don't have time for this!" he snapped, and I could tell he was angry.

"I. Do. Not. Want ..." I coughed, gurgled with the blood coming up in the back of my throat, "... your blood."

"Shit! The sun will be up—"

"Let me go," I mumbled, felt myself slip away.

"No, I won't," he said adamantly. "I'm going to dig the bullet out of you."

"Wha'? No!"

"Look at me. Let me take your pain."

"No, no."

"Stupid fool!" Eric ripped my blood-soaked night-shirt off while I still protested. It fell on deaf ears. "Hold your breath, Connee."

Tears poured out of my eyes. I could speak no longer to protest. I looked at him, pleading with my eyes to just let me die.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry." His fingers came closer to my lower neck. "I'm so sorry."

I screamed in pain when he dug his fingers into my flesh. I kicked my feet, trying to get away from him. The last thing I remember was the look of fear, regret and pain in his eyes as his fingers searched for the bullet.

Eric's POV:

"What am I going to do with you," I asked Connee's lifeless body as I rushed home.

I could feel the heat from the rising sun, and if I hurried I knew we'd make it back. I was able to call Doug and ask him to take care of Susie's body and the kitten; at least I knew he wouldn't eat it. The sun's rays soon began to appear through the trees. I was relieved to see the cabin hidden in the ancient wisps of the trees surrounding it. Connee hadn't made a noise the past few minutes, but I could still feel and hear her heartbeat, though it was weak.

Kicking in the door I glided to the back room and placed Connee on the bed. It was far too late to call Sylvester, yet I didn't know what the hell to do. There was blood in the corner of her mouth, and I fought every urge I had not to lick it away. "Damn it! Don't die on me!"

Looking over her body, she told me she didn't want my blood. I had to respect that. But I sure didn't have to let her die. I'd done everything I could to show her that I was sorry: I bought her flowers, I saved her life, I gave her Heather, I told her I loved her. And here she was, dying on my bed, probably. What was I supposed to do?

The first thing I knew I had to do was to stop the bleeding. Okay, so, she said she didn't want my blood. I could live with that—for the moment. But she didn't say I couldn't take her blood. I had to clean her wound. Besides, hopefully it would heal her torn flesh.

She was only in her bra, then a lacy red, it had been white. I took my time licking at the wound. God, she tasted so good, but I had no carnal lust for her at that particular moment. Spending a little extra time on the opening where the bullet went through, it didn't close up as quickly as I would have liked. Once it did, within minutes more blood would seep out from a new area of the wound. It might be too late.

Hours later ...

"Shhh, Connee, you're fine."

She was far from it, actually. From the smell of her blood infection had already set in. She hadn't regained consciousness since I'd brought her to my day den, but occasionally she'd mumble incoherently or whine in pain when she'd move in her sleep.

That was the norm the past several hours, and the sun was far from setting. While I'd only slept for an hour, off and on, her whimpering would always wake me up.

Then, though, her body was shivering with fever. I hadn't a damned thing to blanket her. I couldn't do it because I knew my body would be too cold to her. And her beautiful face was covered in sweat, from the fever, I supposed. Whenever I'd wipe it off, the moisture would build up just as quickly.

I would have liked to call someone, Lucille, maybe? I knew Sylvester didn't like me, so that was out. Sookie? I'd already pushed her to her limits. I couldn't take Connee to the hospital because the authorities would investigate further with the gunshot wound.

There wasn't a damned thing I could do about Connee's suffering.

Hours later ...

"'Hmmph ..." she muttered.

I'd been sitting up beside Connee, who'd been mumbling in her sleep again. "Connee, I'm here." I wiped her face again, but her complexion was pale, the apples of her cheeks flushed.

"Wha' happen'?"

Oh, thank god! She's back. "You got into a little trouble. You're fine now."

I could tell she tried to open her eyes but had given up the attempt. "The acc'ntnt ... he was supp ..."

Shit. "Connee, I know you told me you didn't want my blood, but—"

"Wh' would I say tha'?" she muttered.

What was she talking about?

"Oh, 'ic, make love to me." She finally opened her eyes but she wasn't there. It was as if she looked right through me. I didn't like it.

I quickly slid my arm under her head to her shoulders and pulled her to me. She screamed in pain, her eyes wide in anguish. I could hear her collarbone crunch—it was disheartening to hear.

"I'm sorry. I know you told me ..." I dug into my forearm, not giving a shit about my own pain, "... not to give you my blood, but you will not die, Ms. Byers." I placed my arm over her mouth. "Drink from me, Connee. I don't want you to ..." I had to stop speaking because I knew she couldn't hear me, truthfully my voice cracked.

Within a second, she clamped her lips onto me and drank, hard. "No, easy, easy."

Her tongue lapped at my skin then would suck for more blood, as if she knew I was trying to save her life. I closed my eyes and let her drink all she could until her head fell back, although I caught it. "Good girl. That's my girl."

Her eyes were closed tightly. All I could do then was wait.

Connee's POV:

God, I hurt like a son of a bitch. I was afraid to move because I knew I would scream, and I also knew the pain would intensify. But my collarbone wasn't really bad, it was tolerable. I tried to conjure up what I last remembered, and it was when Eric stuck his finger into my flesh at the bullet hole.

It was quiet, crickets sang all around me, and I could tell it was dark. The trickling of water overwhelmed me, but then I realized I was cradled against something that was cold, yet my body was pooled in lukewarm water. Water spilled over my chest and neck, then was rinsed off my skin. Beads of water spilled over my bare breasts ... I tilted my head up, trying to force my eyes open, but they wouldn't cooperate.

"Connee, are you awake?"

Eric? I moaned when his huge, soft hand rubbed over my breasts. I tried to talk, to tell him off, but I shivered with cold.

"I know it's cold. Sorry about that."

It was Eric.

A second later, I was turned around and cradled in his arms, my legs over one of his legs. My upper body was pulled away from him, but he had his arms behind me with his hands on the back of my shoulders.

"Connee? Open your eyes for me, please." I was disoriented, my head spun, but I eventually opened them. "Hey, you're in there," he told me, a smile on his lips, no fangs showing.

"Wha' happened?"

"I'll tell you all about it later. Right now, I have to finish cleaning you off."

"Why?"

"Because you have been delirious with fever for over twenty-four hours, and you're all hot and sweaty."

"Why?"

"An infection."

"You smell awful," I croaked.

He laughed, and it felt good when my body shuttered with his. "No, dear, that's you."

"Oh."

He pulled me hard against him, and I wanted to protest. I wanted and needed more answers. But I felt his hands, then holding a bar of soap that lathered up over my back, and it felt so damned good. I had to bring my left arm up closer to my side because I felt my collarbone pop. I didn't even have the strength to whine.

"I'm sorry, but I had to give you some of my blood. Are you still hurting?"

I shook my head. "Not really. Did you ... change me?"

"No."

"Okay." With his huge, warm hands caressing my back, I'd never felt more secure in my life. "That feels good. I like it."

"Yeah, it feels good to me, too."

"Eric," I muttered, because I was getting sleepy again.

"Yes, love."

"Hmm, I like that even better."

"I'll remember that," he said devilishly. His hands slid to the small of my back, and he traced his nails softly over my skin. I gasped as my body slowly came awake.

"No, I like the 'love' part," I corrected.

"Oh, darn."

I smiled. "Thank you."

He pushed me away gently and looked into my eyes. I melted completely. I could tell there was something he wanted to say, but he returned my smile. After a second, he said, "Thank you."

I frowned. "For what?"

"For allowing me to make amends."

I shook my head and leaned forward. He let me brush my lips against his. He was so soft and gentle that I melted even more. I broke the kiss first and buried my face in his neck. "I think I'm all clean now."

"Darn it. Let me take you home."

"Hmm, kay."

I didn't feel him pick me up and carry me off.

I woke up again later, though I didn't know how much later because we were back in Eric's hideout and it was almost pitch black, except for a small oil lamp lit in the corner. I was on a mattress close to the floor on my side. There was no longer in any type of pain whatsoever. I was relieved. I felt alive again, just like I did when I had Eric's blood the first time. I could hear the creatures scurrying outside, wherever we were, and I could even smell the dead leaves crunching under their feet.

Then I opened my eyes and faced Eric, who was asleep beside me. His hands were tucked under his chin, his knees bent up. He looked just like an angel. He was so incredibly handsome, his face relaxed and soft. For some odd reason, I was expecting to see his nostrils flair and his chest, his naked chest, rise and fall with his breathing. I'd forgotten vampires don't breathe. How stupid of me. I wished I could get into his head and know what he was thinking, but in a way I wouldn't want to know. Too much violence; too many deaths; too much heartache.

"You are giving me a complex by staring at me," he said quietly, a smile slowly creeping over his lips.

"Couldn't help it," I replied bashfully.

He opened his eyes and looked me over, his grin growing wider. I hadn't realized I was still naked. I didn't care.

"I can't figure you out," I muttered.

"I don't want you to figure me out."

"Okay, I get it." He traced a fingernail up my arm that sent shivers down to my fingers. "No, don't," I said, but didn't pull my arm away.

He did as I asked and removed his arm. "Sorry, I didn't think about getting you any food. You must be hungry," he said apologetically.

"Yeah, a little," I confessed.

"We'll go to Pam's as soon as the sun is down."

I nodded. "Eric, what was your life like?" I dared to ask.

From the expression on his face I knew I had hit a sore spot. God, the pain and sorrow he must have been put through. "I'm sorry, Eric. Forget I asked."

He rolled over on his back, put his head under his arms and stared at the ceiling, his face contorted. "I was a womanizer ... when I was human. I loved women, their softness, their scent, their bodies. I had no time to settle down and start a family. I didn't want one, didn't deserve one. While most of us Vikings conquered Great Britain, some of us came here, as I did. Our first raid was ... I won't go into details. Godric, my maker, wanted me for my strength. He wanted me to fight for and with him. I didn't understand at the time. He changed me after I'd been wounded on a raid. I knew I was going to die, and I wanted to die. I was ready for death."

I heard what he said, and it tore at my heart. A human being never wanting to be loved, taken care of? I couldn't even fathom that concept.

He turned his head to look at me. "And death is what I received."

Chills went through my body at his comment. His eyes were filled with something I couldn't even explain. "No, Eric, I refuse to believe that."

"No, little girl, you don't get it."

"Then explain it to me." I truly wanted to understand.

"I find humans ... entertaining. It doesn't matter what century I coexist with them, past or present. They are a naïve, cowering people and no match for us."

"Then why do you want me, if I'm such a pathetic creature?"

"You are far from pathetic or naïve. You have a rare gift, Connee. You are strong." He took a strand of my hair and twirled it around his finger. I let him. "You know what you want. You know your limits, yet you strive to overcome them. Your upbringing was as fucked up as mine."

"Yeah, I guess it was."

We stared at each other in that uncomfortable way that we'd done before, but then there was an understanding between us.

"Then why love me, Eric?"

He removed his finger from my hair, raised an eyebrow and tried to look angry. He didn't do a very good job. "Who said I loved you?"

"You tried to change into someone you thought I wanted. You bought me roses, although I was in the shower and you should have knocked. You got me Heather ... by the way, where is she?"

He grinned. "With Doug."

"Okay, good." Here comes the tricky, threatening part. I put my head in my hand and looked him dead in the eye. "And you brought me here, the one place every vampire holds sacred, according to Bill. Then, either that means something that scares you shitless, or you're going to kill me anyway for knowing your hideout." I didn't want to mention his comment about him falling in love with me, just in case I was hallucinating when I thought I heard it.

"If I was going to kill you, I would have let you bleed to death ... both times. And I can always take your memory."

I wasn't expecting that. "Would you, seriously? After all—"

"Don't have to," he replied confidently.

"Hmm, what makes you so sure?"

"Because you were passed out and delirious. You still don't know where we are."

I grinned, knowing I was defeated, and put my head on my forearm. "Could you love me, Eric Northman?"

I got my answer when he placed his hand on my cheek, pulled me to him and plastered his lips on mine. I lost my breath as our kiss grew, and man, he could kiss. I wrapped my arm around his neck and pulled him towards me, his chest pressed against my breasts. My fingers found his hair and grabbed some, running my fingers through his soft mane.

"Hmm, no, no, little one," Eric growled as he pulled away from me. "There will be plenty of time for that later." His fangs were then out, but I wasn't frightened.

"You're right, damn it," I giggled breathlessly. "We'll have to redefine our Contract."

His voice was full of shock and amazement when he asked, "Is that what you want?"

"I'm an idiot, but yes, I would. I'm all for giving someone second chances."

"Oh, I am sooo grateful," he replied playfully, a small grin on his lips. "You get some rest."

I yawned long and hard, I just didn't want to argue with him. I threw myself onto my other side because that's the normal position I fall to sleep in. "Eric?"

"Yes?" he answered, and I could tell he was then on his back.

"Would you cuddle with a lowly human?"

"I don't know. Let me think—ow!" I'd actually been able to elbow him softly on his forearm. "Of course. I would feel so honored."

I waited anxiously to feel him beside me again, but he didn't. I sighed. Totally defeated, but too tired to care to argue further, I grew drowsy. Only then did I feel his cool body press against mine, his arm over my waist, his leg over both of mine, his face buried in my hair.

"I know that was hard for you," I said softly. "Thank you so much."

"Shut up and go to sleep, woman," he grunted. But even with that one grunt, I could hear the smile on his face.