Betaed by Breathesgirl.

Disclaimer: Do I look like Charlaine Harris? I guess you don't know, so I'll tell you: no. I don't.

Thankfully, even stunned as I was after my confrontation with Eric, I somehow managed to retain enough presence of mind to avoid wrapping my car around the tree. I briefly considered stopping by Sam's to return his cell-phone to him and to check on him but I was so exhausted that I decided to simply call him to ask how he was doing and confirm that Pam was coming to help instead, and then swing by his place and drop the phone off on my way to work next day.

"I see you were in no hurry to leave Fangtasia," Sam said instead of hello.

My temper flared, choking me up for a moment. What was that supposed to mean?

"Ooooh, Sooookie, thank you for getting a bartender and a bodyguard for me," I mocked. "I'm sooo sorry you had to swallow your pride and ask Eric for help on my account."

Right then I didn't care that he was my boss.

"So Eric went for it," Sam stated in reply after a moment.

Did he have amnesia too? Maybe there was something in the water?

"Yes, he did, I'm not sure why you sound so surprised. We talked about it on the phone when I was at Fangtasia. Nothing has changed."

"Blood, resting place and a favour, is that right?"

I nodded even though he couldn't see me, "Just like I said."

"I owe Eric a favour," he repeated as if he somehow thought I was to blame for that.

"Yes, you do! I consulted you with the terms and you agreed! You sent me to take care of your business for you and I did! You asked him for a favour, he asked for one in exchange. I did you a favour and you are being rude to me instead of being grateful. No matter what you made yourself believe in the meantime, this is how things are."

He admitted I was right, but he didn't sound too pleased about that.

"I changed my mind, though," he said. "I think Pam should stay with you."

"And why is that?"

"The closet in the storage room she would have to lock herself in is rather small – and you have a light-tight space for a vampire in your house, don't you?"

"Why didn't you tell me this before? I don't like that you're putting me in this position."

"Are you saying no?"

"I have every right to say no! You should have asked me, or at least inform me about your plans before you made a decision that someone – a vampire – is going to stay at my house, not just assuming that I would be okay with that! It's not like I'm running a vampire hotel."

Yes, I knew Pam, but it was about principles.

"No, but you work for me and Pam is going to work for me too…"

"Uh-huh, sure, why don't you ask Arlene or Holly to let her crash at their place?"

"Well, no, but that's because…" he sounded genuinely surprised.

Luckily for him, he trailed off.

"What, you don't know how to finish this sentence? Listen to me…"

I paused to gather my thoughts.

It wasn't some hypothetical strange vampire we were talking about. If that was the case, I would have told Sam to go climb a tree – but we were talking about Pam.

Damn it. My hands were tied.

If Sam was talking about the closet with chemicals in the storage room I really didn't want to put Pam through sleeping inside it. It would protect her from the sun, and it's not like vampires suffer from insomnia, but she would have to curl next to Sam's supply of rat poison and old mops. I couldn't do that to someone I considered my friend. Sure, all I could offer her was a place in a closet, too, but at least my closet was remodeled to serve the purpose. I would give her a pillow and sheets – and my closet smelled of lavender, not cleaning products and rags.

"I'm going to do this, but only because it's Pam, do you understand? I'll do this – for her, not for you. Which doesn't change the fact that it was wrong of you to leave me no choice like this! Don't think that just because I'm doing this it means that I agree with you and that everything is fine. Bye, Sam."

I hung up before he could respond. Without a pause, not wanting to lose the nerve, I found the number for Fangtasia and angrily pressed the buttons. I asked dryly for them to pass the phone to Pam or Eric, depending which one of them was available at the moment. Of course with my luck I got Eric.

"Tell Pam that she's going to stay with me after all," I said after I got through the unsurprising part of the conversation containing Eric asking me if I was already missing him (let's face it – when it comes to certain things Eric is predictable). "I work the lunch shift tomorrow, so she'll probably miss me at Merlotte's, but I'll be home in the evening and I'll let her in.

"Would I get the same invitation if I offered myself instead of Pam?" he asked after a few seconds.

"Goodnight, Eric," I said simply before disconnecting.

I decided it was time to cease my activity for the day and was happy to crawl into my bed. I fell asleep almost immediately.

I woke up reinvigorated but still in a testy mood. It was raining and I was wondering if Sam was going to fire me for last night.

I was up early, so I indulged myself with a lazy breakfast, deciding to leave doing the chores for later. I wanted to clean the place up before Pam's arrival, but I knew that since she was going to work the evening shift, I would still have a few hours to do that after I come home from work.

I was just drinking my coffee when the courier parked in my driveway.

The delivery was from Fangtasia. I examined it curiously. I had no idea why I got it and why now.

The package was stiff and smaller than the last one I got from Eric. I unpacked it and was surprised to find a book inside it – or, more precisely, a trashy romance novel, the kind I liked to entertain myself by reading in my free time for relaxation. Someone (judging from the handwriting I suspected Eric) stuck a note between the pages; it read "for sleepless nights". Other than that, there was no explanation. Last night's conversation left me completely confused, so I couldn't stop myself from being a little suspicious. I wanted to believe the gift was offered in good faith and that "for sleepless nights" could be translated as "peace offering", but preferred to stay frosty – injured male pride was no joke. On the other hand, it might have been just a sign of one of Eric's strong personality traits: he never gave up. One thing was certain – he had no intention of letting me forget about him.

I glanced at the page marked by the note and felt my ears burning.

Definitely Eric.

Without reading the book I could bet that I was reading the raciest scene in the novel – or at least I hoped so.

I wondered if I should be concerned about the fact that the scandalous undertone of the gift was almost welcomed. Indecency was Eric's natural state. I was already used to it and the blunt way in which he was constantly expressing his attraction to me became a part of the norm in our relationship. I was relieved to see the banter returning, even if the type of 'hinting' Eric preferred in his innuendos was so transparent that it was hard to even call it that. One of the things I always liked about Eric was his sense of humour. After the unusual gravity of our last few interactions, light-heartedness was something I longed for.

The truth was, even though most of the time I thought him completely insufferable, somewhere along the way (I wasn't sure when exactly) he grew on me and I found myself getting attached to his devious personality. It was almost masochistic in a way and probably not too wise of me, considering how dangerous he was.

I closed the book and flipped it to take a look at the front cover.

I snorted loudly.

"Seriously?" I said.

There was a picture on the cover, one of these computer processed graphics that are styled to imitate a photo, with a deep chiaroscuro, dramatic wind-blown hair and disheveled clothes. It displayed an image of a couple: a busty blond in the arms of a muscular man with a half-naked torso. The blond's lips were parted with a sigh and she looked like she was about to faint. The man had Nordic features and looked suspiciously like a Viking.

"Sword of passion" – I read, amused.

Subtle, Eric.

Fighting a smile, I put the book on my nightstand to examine it closer at a later date and got back to getting ready to leave. I made a mental note to stop by a grocery to buy some True Blood – I knew that according to the deal I struck for Sam he was the one supposed to take care of supplying Pam with blood but since I was the one playing host, I preferred to have something to offer her on hand, even if only for my own peace of mind.

I walked into Merlotte's mentally prepared to confront Sam, but it turned out that he wasn't even at the bar. I felt almost disappointed.

I walked to the table occupied by my brother and his friend Hoyt and took their orders. Jason seemed to be in a good mood. I reminded myself that I had to warn him.

"Sook, would you like to go with me to Grainger hospital after work?" he surprised me.

Calvin was at Grainger hospital. I gave it a thought. Maybe it would be a good idea to talk to him?

"Sure, why not?"

We exchanged a few more remarks about recent dramatic events and then I hurried to take care of the new customers. The two of them just entered the bar: a well-built, dark haired man with a scar on his face and a pretty blond with a short haircut. They were from out of town.

"Am I talking to Sookie Stackhause?" the man asked when I brought him the tea he ordered.

"Yes, why are you asking?"

"My name is Jack Leeds," he said, putting a business card on the table, "and I'm a private investigator. My wife and I are working on a case and we would like to ask you a few questions."

"And what case would that be?"

"The disappearance of Debbie Pelt."

Dun, Dun, DUN! ;)

Next time: More questions and some were-panthers.

Did you see the number of reviews? Yes, we're close to reaching another mark... so I think it's only fair if I give the teaser to the person who gives me review number 200 :)