Hi everybody! This time I have a short chapter for you all.

Disclaimer: It's not what it looks like!

Unbetaed.

Previously:

Two metal balls fell out on my open palm. I felt my pulse quickening when I discovered that my hunch didn't lead me wrong. I put aside the bullet I already knew and carefully picked the other one. I lifted it in my hand and looked at it in the light.

What was it Alcide was talking about?

A proof.

I was absolutely sure that I was holding the bullet from Debbie's gun. The second bullet meant for me and willingly taken by Eric.

I turned the key in the lock. Sam had offered a solution to my temporary living arrangement problem – he had told me that he could rent me one of the apartments he was land-lording. I agreed without a second thought.

I stepped in and looked around curiously. After living in a farmhouse is seemed small, but the space arrangement was planned rationally. It felt nice to be able to have a taste of a little privacy, even if it was limited by the presence of the neighbors across the wall and the public road outside the window. I started with tiding the rooms, which were a bit dusty, and unpacking what little things I had brought from my house. I had taken some more of them earlier that day when I had checked on Terry and the progress he was making on restoring my home. I also had two bags of grocery I had bought on my way – I didn't trust anything that came out of the burned house, not even cans, so I had to buy many things.

After I finished cleaning I quickly made myself a well-deserved snack and then I mixed the products for a pie and left the pulp to grow before cooking. I was planning to drop it later at Jason's and ask my brother to give it to Calvin with my wishes for his quick recovery when he or Crystal would go to visit him at the hospital. It was Crystal who had unknowingly put the idea in my head when she had mentioned to me during out chat that Calvin had liked my visit. I thought it better not to show too much enthusiasm about getting to know him after out last talk at the hospital, so I came up with the idea of the pie instead. Of course I preferred Calvin to like me so he had another reason to stop his people from getting any ideas about serving redneck justice on Jason, but since I had realized that it was my person that might very easily become a bargain chip if push came to shove, I thought it wise not to send any signals that he might interpret as the sign that I would be willing to make myself available. I thought giving Calvin a homemade treat would send a better message than showing in person – a balancing act between showing my concern and putting myself on the market. Plus, this way I wouldn't have to talk to the werepanters and maybe I could avoid any further conversational traps.

While I was putting together all products for the pie on the table in the tiny kitchen in my temporary haven I remembered the dream I had had the night before: I had been dreaming about my Gran's much bigger and now burnt kitchen in my own house. In my dream I was walking around it with Eric – which wasn't really surprising on itself, since I had already become somehow used to the Viking's regular presence in my dreams. This time (for a change?) we had our clothes on and I wondered if it had something to do with the fact that I had spent some time thinking about his non-physical characteristics the day before, after finding the material piece of the puzzle that was the story of my missing memories.

My subconscious must have been sure that there are some things you just can't take out of Eric, though, because our conversation (which had started quite innocent - Eric had expressed his regret about the fact that my old wooden kitchen table had not survived the fire) became loaded with innuendo after only a few sentences: surprised with Eric's remark I asked him what it had been about my table that had made him so fond of it, to which he answered that the table had been very "handy" and that it had hold a sentimental value for him. Completely oblivious to the double entendre I asked like a fool how the "handiness" had been manifesting itself and whatever use Eric could have had for it anyway. To my surprise his answer to the second question was quite ordinary: Eric said that "obviously" he had been using the table to dine, because what else could you use a table for? - and as far as its "handiness" went, it had been its height he appreciated.

"But you don't eat anything but blood," I laughed, "and you don't really need a table for that."

Eric assured me then that he liked to dine at my table very much and he looked at me in the way that made me suddenly realise that drinking bottled blood was merely one of the possible, but decidedly not preferred option of vampire feeding. At the same moment I became aware that the meal Eric had been putting on the table had been me.

My imagination had run out of the memory-based variations lately and it had been throwing the most peculiar scenarios at me instead. I was really lucky that I was the only telepath in the area.

I turned the oven on. By the time the pie was ready I had just enough time left to drive by Jason's to drop it (I packed it in two boxes knowing that Jason was going to eat the contents of one of them himself anyway, so at least there was a chance that he'd stop before opening the other) and stop by the library.

I ran into Andy Bellefleure on my way to the car. He was just about to knock on my neighbor's door – Andy and Heileigh had been dating for some time.

"Sookie!" he called seeing me. "You asked me to find something about the guy whose body we found next to your house during the fire.

I had asked him, but I hadn't thought he was really going to do that.

"There is no trace of any previous crimes in his record," he said. "And there is no connection to the Fellowship."

"But that doesn't make any sense," I said thinking aloud. "Why would he do something like that otherwise?"

"I expected you might say something like that."

Oh for God's sake. I knew that Andy didn't have me in high regard, but enough is enough.

"Listen, Andy," I said firmly. "I've never had any troubles with law. I pay my taxes. I've never sold alcohol to underage kid. I've never even got a ticket for driving too fast! And then someone tries to fry me inside my own house. Why are you making it sound like this is somehow my fault?"

"I just don't see anything in this guy's past that would explain why he would attack you."

"Perfect! Then find out who did it, because someone burned my house and it certainly wasn't me!"

I tuned on my heel without waiting for his reply and I got into my car, angrily slamming the door behind me. He had to make himself scarce quickly, because when I glanced in the mirror he was already gone.

After talking to Andy I had less time than I had planned, so I couldn't afford staying to chat with Jason. I estimated that if I made it quick, I would still had a chance to take care of everything I had planned – so when I finally drove into the library lot, I parked in hurry and I was still a little on edge.

It turned out that it was a blessing, because my distraction caused my telepathic shields to slip: for a split second a very active and hostile brain signature registered on my radar. I flinched instinctively trying to get away and then suddenly I felt something hitting my arm. I heard a loud bang and then I felt something wet on my arm and saw a dark stain growing on my sleeve.

At least I left the coat in the car, so it won't get ruined – I thought looking down at my once white and now dirty Merlotte's top.

And then there was blinding pain when I realized that the stain was blood and the thing hitting me had been a bullet biting into my flesh. I only had time to think what a shame it was that this bullet wouldn't push itself out of my wound like I had seen with the vamps before I fell to my knees.

There went Sookie's New Year's resolution.

Next time: Hmmm... in a way... you could say it's a pillow-talk.