Chapter Eight:

She was dying. She knew she had to have been. As she lay there on her couch, an arm slung over her face while the other was wrapped securely around her churning stomach, Henley was certain she was dying. Or it at least felt like such.

"Fucking ghosts," she moaned to Moony, who had been sitting at her side all day, his head resting on the cushion closest to her head.

"Well that is quite rude,"

"No," she groaned. "No no no no no."

"Ah, quite yes, actually," Godric chuckled over her.

Why was he doing this to her? What could have honestly been so important that this ghost needed to torture her?

"Haven't you done enough?" Henley thought about ignoring him, but knew he wouldn't let her get away with that, if last night was any indication of his persistence.

"Not at all," she could just imagine the smirk plastered across his transparent face.

She grumbled under her breath as she peeked around her arm, rolling her eyes when she found the vampire ghost standing above her, that cocky smirk of his indeed spread across his lips. "You're an asshole."

"Shouldn't you be at work?" he ignored her comment. "You wouldn't want to be perceived as lazy, now would you?"

"Oh just leave me alone," she grumbled. It was bad enough she had emptied the entire contents of her stomach throughout the night, and had endured the most blinding migraine throughout the morning; she really didn't need to deal with this pestering vampire. "This is entirely your fault."

"Hm, I fail to see how that is possible," Godric raised an eyebrow. "I'm merely a weak ghost, am I not?"

Henley lowered her arm and glared at the vampire. "You know very well what you did."

He only snickered in response before suddenly, the lights in the room were turned on. Cringing, Henley immediately squeezed her eyes closed, her arm returning overtop of her face.

"Seriously? Are you five?" she could feel the pounding in her head increase, a soft cry of pain emitting from her lips.

"No, I am much older than that, little one."

"Really don't care. Just leave me alone."

"Agree to help me," he knelt beside the couch, leaning closer to the pained girl. "And perhaps I will."

"Not. Going. To. Happen," she grit her teeth together. "Leave me alone."

"Now why," he raised a hand, his fingertips ever so lightly gliding across her arm. Henley shuddered, trying to move away, but was trapped between Godric and the couch. "Would I do a thing like that? We could help each other, you know."

"Don't," she winced as she removed her arm from her eyes, her hand rubbing the skin where he had just touched. Her stomach flipped and flopped and she could feel the desire to vomit again rising. "Please, just leave me alone."

"I would never bother you again. You only need to help me," he pointed out. "Help me and I can help you, Henley. Until then, I will do everything in my power to ensure you do not have a moment of peace."

"I hate you."

"Good."

She was relieved when Godric appeared in the chair across the room, though she knew there would be no rest from his infuriating annoyance.

"You are as stubborn as my child," Godric mused, tilting his head to the side as he watched as she slowly pushed herself into a sitting position. Henley rolled her eyes, but he continued nonetheless. "I cannot decide whether he would be amused by you, or infuriated."

"Like you make me," she mumbled under her breath, shooting him a glare before grabbing the throw from over the back of the couch and wrapping it around her form. To her surprise, the lights in the room dimmed a sigh of relief escaping her lips.

"He was a Viking once. He still is, in a matter of speaking."

"Don't do that," Henley shook her head. "Don't tell me your life story. Don't tell me all about your family. Don't try and make me relate or pity you. It won't work, so don't waste your breath."

Godric chuckled. "Yes, you would indeed infuriate him."

"Godric…" her eyes narrowed.

"He, of course, is just infuriating at times. Stubborn and hardheaded, much as you are," Henley frowned as she glanced at the vampire, only to find him a million miles away. Her eyebrows furrowed as he continued. "But it was his sheer will that drew me to him, to turn him a millennium ago."

Her eyebrows shot up into her hairline. "I'm sorry, did you just say a thousand years ago?"

He raised an eyebrow at her. "Yes."

"Oh, no biggie or anything at all," she snorted. "You're just a thousand years old."

"I'm twice the age of my child."

Her mouth dropped open. "Seriously?"

He seemed amused at her reaction. "I am."

"Shit!" she had to admit, she was impressed. She hadn't exactly met a two thousand year old being before, alive or dead.

Godric chuckled. "Many humans have that reaction."

"Well it's not exactly every day you meet someone two thousand years old," she pointed out.

"I suppose not," a small smile crossed his lips.

Her eyes narrowed at him before quickly looking away. It had not been her mission to have a civil conversation with him. That would only lead down the road of her caving, and that was the last thing she needed.

To her relief, before Godric could strike up conversation again, the doorbell rang.

"Saved by the bell," she murmured, slowly pushing herself to her feet.

"It's the Doctor," Godric informed, a frown on his lips. His gaze bore a hole right through the front door, causing Henley to roll her eyes.

"Fantastic," she tried to smooth her pajamas and fix her hair as she shuffled across the room and into the hallway. She braced herself as she pulled the door open, the sunlight flooding into the dark house. "Hi Jackson,"

"Sorry for just showing up," his gaze swept over her with a frown. "But I called the clinic and Michelle said you were pretty sick. I was worried it might have been something you ate last night."

Despite her pounding headache and her churning stomach, she couldn't help the butterflies that fluttered at his concern. She had been a complete wreck last night, and she didn't understand at all how he would even care about her at all. He was too kind to her.

"I think I just caught something," she assured him. "I'm fine, just a little under the weather."

"Well nonetheless, I brought you soup," he held up a container with an appetizing substance sloshing around inside. Her stomach growled and her face flushed a deep shade of red. She had been too afraid to eat anything in fear that it wouldn't stay down. But she realized now just how hungry she was. "I would say it was homemade, but that would be a lie."

She flashed the doctor a smile. She was regretting running a brush through her hair now. "It looks delicious. You really didn't have to."

"I don't mind," that charming smile of his appeared. "I can't stay; I have to get back to the office. I just wanted to check up on you."

"That's very sweet of you," she gratefully took the soup from his hands. "And thank you for this."

"I'll call you later?"

"I look forward to it," she nodded, her smile widening.

She waved as Jackson headed back to his car, driving off to work moments later. Henley couldn't wipe the smile from her face as she closed the door, cradling the soup in her hands as if it was gold.

"You shouldn't eat that," Godric advised, appearing behind her.

Henley sighed as she turned to shoot the vampire a dark look. "Oh shut up, Godric."

"You should not eat that," Godric shook his head, staring intently at the content of the container.

"It's soup, Godric," she snorted, moving around the ghost and towards the kitchen. "I know you're ancient, but soup is delicious."

"You're sick," he reminded.

"And humans eat soup when they're sick."

Godric appeared before her again, blocking her path even as she moved from side to side.

"Godric, stop it," she sighed heavily, her shoulders slumping. "I've had the worst day thanks to what you did last night. All I want to do is eat this soup and pray to god I don't throw it up. So just leave me be."

"You shouldn't eat it," he repeated, his hand reaching for the container, only falling right through it.

"Gross," her nose scrunched up, pulling the soup out of his reach. "I'd rather not eat death, thanks."

"Henley, you cannot eat that."

"Honestly, what's the problem?" she waved him to the side. When he finally moved, she walked into the kitchen and went in search of a bowl. "Let me eat in peace, Godric. You can drive me up the wall later."

"Henley," he insisted, materializing directly beside her, the bowl on the counter suddenly bursting into pieces.

Henley's eyes widened as she jumped back. "Godric!"

"Whatever you do, Henley, do not eat that," he warned. "You cannot trust him."

"Stop being melodramatic," she shook her head, grabbing a spoon and tugging the container lid free. "I really don't understand why you're acting like…"

The window behind her began shaking, the back door rattling. Henley frowned, her eyebrows furrowing as she tried to understand what was wrong with this ghost. What was is problem? It was only a little bit of soup. Jackson had been so kind to bring her over something to eat, to check on her when she was sick.

"Jackson is not who you think he is."

"Then who exactly is he?" she raised an eyebrow. When he didn't answer, she rolled her eyes and dipped the spoon into the soup. Before the liquid could reach her lips, however, a sharp win suddenly appeared, knocking the spoon and container right from her hands. "Godric!"

The soup spilled to the tiled floor, her lunch gone as quickly as it appeared.

"Seriously, Godric?" she glared at the vampire. "I was looking forward to eating that!"

"It's poison."

"Poison?" Henley rubbed the bridge of her nose in exasperation. And people thought she was insane! "Godric, it was soup. Jackson was being sweet and brought me soup. He doesn't have some ulterior motive, and he certainly doesn't want to poison me. This isn't snow white, and that's not an apple. I don't need you to be my Prince Charming."

"You need to listen to me, Henley," Godric appeared as close as he possibly could without touching her. She stilled completely, holding her breath as she pressed herself against the kitchen counter to keep her distance. "You may detest me and my methods to get you to help me, but I am not tricking you. This is not a mere game. Jackson is dangerous. You need to…"

"Oh yeah, because a pediatrician is a total psychopath trying to kill me," Henley shook her head. "You're overreacting Godric. There was nothing wrong with the soup."

"Perhaps you're right. But there is something wrong with him. And I will discover what it is."

He was gone before she could even tell him how insane he sounded.

"Seriously, this vampire," Henley huffed, pouting as she gazed down at the spilled soup. Moony had trotted over, his nose inching towards the liquid. She didn't know why, but she quickly called the dog away. Godric was completely off his rocker, but a small, tiny part of her didn't want to test whether or not that was true with her dog's life. "Come on Moony, let's get both of us some lunch, all right?"

Henley made sure to wear gloves when she cleaned the soup up.

Godric didn't appear for the rest of the day, and she was grateful. Her stomach had finally begun to settle and her headache was only a dull thudding every so often. She had even felt up to doing some work on her laptop to make up for the day at work she missed. It was near 10 when her boredom struck, her mind elsewhere. Instead of working diligently on her work, she found herself checking Facebook and all the celebrity gossip sites. When neither was able to quench her thirst for something to do, her curiosity got the better of her.

"This isn't considered helping," she muttered to herself in assurance, pulling up Google and typing in the most ridiculous phrase she would ever search.

She never thought she would get a single webpage during her search of the thousand-year-old Viking vampire. But she found more than enough information, multiple news and magazine articles written about the business mogul.

"Fangtasia, huh?" she raised an eyebrow as she fell upon the website for the vampire bar this Eric Northman supposedly owned. She had heard of the bar, of course. She had heard a few girls talking about the place in the waiting room once. It was Louisiana's hottest bar, and quite possibly, the most dangerous.

And apparently, now the most interesting.

"So, this is who you want me to help?" she found a picture of the bar owner, blinking as she tried to decide whether or not a single being could be as handsome as this vampire. She had thought Jackson was gorgeous, but this Viking, he was godlike.

Shaking her head at the thought, Henley quickly closed the laptop and shoved it to the end of the couch. She shouldn't have been looking up anything about Godric's kid. That would only peak her interest, and she didn't need that. The more she knew, the harder it would be to say no to the pesky ghost. She needed to remain strong, and curiosity free, in order to not break.

Unfortunately, as she got ready for bed, she found she couldn't get the address of the bar out of her head.

"It's not helping," she reminded herself, climbing into bed. "Maybe I just want to get a drink after a long day of work. That's all."

She was going to regret planning a visit to Fangtasia, she just knew it.

A/N: Thanks everyone for reviewing and sticking with the story even when I don't update for a week or two. I'm in the back end of the semester, so things are finally starting to slow down.

I've had a few questions about the romance in this story. My answer is: It will not be with Eric. Poor guy isn't getting any lovin. I can't really say much more, other than there is going to be romance. Take that as you like ;)