I bet some of you thought you wouldn't hear from me again. I'm happy to prove you wrong :)

Here is the promised outtake - I'm posting it here so everyone who was following this story would find it.

Gonsalsy helped me to improve this story - thank you for all your hard work!

Disclaimer: I've already said it in more than hundred different ways in all the chapters of my fics but I can say it again if it makes you feel better: I don't own SVM series.

Now, enjoy - it's a long one.

SOMEONE'S BEEN EATING FROM MY BOWL

There are times when I think that my life has finally reached the point beyond which it can't get any stranger than it already is. Then usually something happens within the next twenty four hours – something that proves me wrong.

When I went with Alcide to help him make sure his father's rival to the packmaster title wasn't cheating (which I had agreed to only because I still felt guilty about Debbie) I expected troubles. What I didn't expect, though, was that the weretiger acting as the emcee would take it upon himself to provide me with first aid by licking my wound, or that I would acquire a new injury at all. I also didn't expect the two fairies I knew to hold me back and forcefully keep me quiet so I wouldn't make a fuss while one werewolf killed the other and then the winner had some kind of ritual sex with one of the women from his pack (hand-delivered by his own wife).

That's why I was really happy when I found myself finally safe at my own place, or rather at the apartment I was renting from Sam.

I was in the middle of looking for something to change into after I showered when I heard the doorbell. I hadn't made plans to meet anyone, so I furrowed my eyebrows before heading for the door. Who could it be so late in the evening?

The last few weeks had been so crazy that seeing Eric Northman on my doorstep paying me an unannounced visit made me feel relieved instead of alarmed.

I didn't expect that either.

He smiled, like he knew exactly what his presence did to me – probably because he did.

"Hi, Eric," I said stepping aside to let him in.

He closed the door and turned toward me.

He opened his mouth to say something, but then he suddenly froze. His eyes widened. He was looking right at me, but it was only when his nostrils moved fractionally that I realized what the problem was.

I had spent the night in a very mixed company: bunch of werewolves, a weretiger and… two fairies. The latter had been holding me quite tight. Add the fact that I had been bleeding at some point and had yet to take a shower…

Uh-oh.

Eric took a step forward, staring at me as if he was under a spell.

And then another one.

"Eric," I said tersely. In that moment my knees hit the edge of the couch as I stepped back. "Knock it off."

He didn't reply. I abruptly plopped down on the couch under his pressing body. I was trapped between Eric and the plush backrest.

"Eric, please," I tried again. "You have to snap out of this!"

He ran his nose along the skin down my neck, first on one side and then the other, inhaling deeply, and then he moved down, as if he meant to sniff my whole body, from head to toe.

"Someone was touching you," he said finally in a low, raspy voice. And then, with apparent anger, when his inspection allowed him to scent a hint of my blood: "Someone hurt you."

For a moment I had an eerie feeling that I had somehow managed to transport myself into a very twisted version of the tale of Goldilocks.

Someone's been sitting on my stool. Someone's been eating from my bowl. Someone's been sleeping in my…

I looked at him and this time he was staring back at me. There was some unspoken question in his eyes. I inhaled sharply as I had a light-bulb moment – I remembered how I had got caught between the fighting werewolves and how Quinn had tried to lick my wounded leg later on. Actually, he did lick it.

I shook my head and placed my hands on Eric's cheeks.

"No, no, no," I said insistently. We still hadn't talked about what exactly was going on between us, but I didn't want him to have a reason to think that I had been fooling around with someone else right after we had spent a night together. "Oh, Eric, no."

He looked at me for a moment intently, and then he straightened his back and wrapped his arms snugly around me.

"What happened?" he asked, his pupils still dilated.

This was clearly one of those times when his instincts were trying to take over.

I attempted to rub his back to sooth him somehow, but he was holding me so tight that I could barely move.

"I'll tell you everything, just calm down. I promise that you have nothing to worry about."

"Someone bit you!" he said painfully.

I hadn't been sure before if the cut on my leg did, indeed, come from the werewolf's teeth or just from some shard I had collided with on my way out of the room, but I wasn't about to argue with Eric's expertise.

"It's just a scratch and it's already almost healed. I'm fine."

"I don't like it."

At least he was still using words to communicate. That was a good sign, right?

"I know you don't. I don't like it either, but it's over. Do you hear me?"

"You smell of…"

"I know!"

"I don't like it," he said again, like a stubborn child.

"Trust me."

I have no idea what came over me to say that, but he looked at me and he seemed to listen to me.

"All right," he agreed and I would have laughed at this simple reply if it hadn't been followed a half second later by the kind of insistent kiss you would give someone if the world was coming to an end.

"Sookie," he groaned when I gasped for breath. "I…"

He paused long enough for me to notice that he looked as if he was fighting some kind of inner battle. His eyes were glazed over. The mix of the narcotic fairy scent, my blood, the kiss and Eric's own possessive-protective instincts must have been staggering.

"I… I can't… have to… I need…"

I'd never heard Eric stutter before, but as he pressed me even closer to his body, wedging himself between my knees, I suddenly understood what he was trying to tell me and what it was that he needed – me.

It seemed that he had managed to get his bloodlust under control, but it wasn't the only kind of lust his body was demanding that he quench. I blinked.

I had a choice to make. I had few options: I could try to push him away by force hoping that he wouldn't really fight me, try to reason with him (which probably wouldn't go too well), rescind his invitation and then talk to him over the threshold, or… well… surrender and accept the situation for what it was, making the best of it.

It was awfully primitive and probably totally in disagreement with my inner feminist but… also surprisingly exciting.

"Okay," I said finally.

"Okay?" repeated Eric, whipping his head up, with something between disbelief, hope, and crashing relief in his voice.

"Come here."

He didn't need to be told twice. I had no illusions as to what I should expect and that it wasn't going to be anywhere near unhurried and gentle. He didn't waste any time getting me out of my clothes. He was making some impatient noises as he was at it. I couldn't deny that there was something attractive in being the object of such intense and pressing desire.

He bared his fangs and growled at the scratch on my calf when he uncovered the skin on my legs. It was as if he was growling at whoever had done it. He pressed his mouth to the remainder of the cut quickly and then he made a face. He was probably able to tell that he wasn't the first one to do that.

"I DON'T LIKE IT," he said for the third time sniffing around the scratch, as if he wanted to test how far the "contaminated" area reached.

"Eric, sweetheart," I said stroking his head. I wasn't sure if using pet-names was a good idea, but I had to try to somehow shake him out of his current mood. "It's nothing."

I counted on him remembering that he would have known if I tried to lie to him.

He ignored me and started to methodically lap at my skin, spot after spot, pausing from time to time only to hiss at the imaginary adversary on my calf. It would have been funny if I wasn't a little concerned. I think he was trying to cover the offending scent by his own. The last traces of the injury were quickly vanishing thanks to the healing properties of vampire saliva. I continued to pet his hair, since I didn't know what else I could do. At least his anger wasn't turned on me. To be honest, his ministrations were actually quite pleasant.

Especially when he opted for leaving my calf in peace and systematically moving on to higher regions. By the way, I never knew I had so many nerve endings on the underside of my knees.

Perhaps he decided that it wasn't enough to rub his scent onto the place where someone else had had the nerve to leave their own, but rather soak me whole in his odor, just to be on the safe side.

Suddenly he looked up and his eyes bore into me.

"You're mine," he said.

"Eric, you know how much I don't like…"

"You're MINE," he said again, urgently and almost reproachfully, making me rethink my stance on the matter.

Eric needed my reassurance; that's what this whole act was really about, though he was having difficulty putting it into words. This wasn't time for semantics.

I imagined my tombstone:

Here lies Sookie Stackhouse,

Fallen in battle over a four-letter word.

She fought till the very end.

I rolled my eyes.

"Yeah, yeah," I said indulgently.

But Eric was staring at me expectantly, so after a beat I added reluctantly:

"Yours."

That seemed to switch Eric's mood like the touch of a magic wand, because when he climbed up for a kiss, all the dark tension and distress that had previously painted his face vanished without a trace, replaced by a mixture of delight and hunger.

"Only mine," he prompted just to make it clear.

"Sure."

Eric gave me a look of pure adoration, but far from the platonic kind. Either way, I thought it was worth it. He quickly disposed of the rest of my clothes and only then realized that he had yet to get rid of his own. By then he was in such a hurry that it didn't go very well. He only shrugged off his jacket (which he had been too busy squishing me against the couch to shed before) before his impatience took over. He skipped stripping off his T-shirt and went straight for his pants instead. I didn't even try to help him, deciding it was better to stay out of his way. Eric growled something irritated and then for the first time I saw him ripping his own clothes. The sight of the flying button hitting the floor and the sharp sound of the seam giving way were somewhat satisfying – vampires had torn my clothes to shreds so many times that it gave me a sense of justice to see the roles finally reversed.

He didn't even bother to take his pants all the way off. He just pushed them past his hips. It gave me some idea about what was in store for me and, truth be told, I gulped a little nervously, though at that point I was already quite aroused myself.

Eric pushed my legs apart without a word and slid between them. I saw him grinding his teeth as he put all of his willpower into forcing himself not to move any faster than he did. I gripped his shoulders hard and some kind of whimpering sound escaped me. While I had thought that I was ready for him, he still somehow managed to catch me by surprise. Finally I exhaled with relief – that is, when I was able to breathe again. Eric still didn't relax, though. He brushed his fingers against my cheek – and it was probably the first really tender thing he had done since he stepped through the door.

"Sookie," he said in a tense voice. "I won't be able… to go… slow."

But this time when he looked at me I could really believe that he was seeing me, contrary to that 'moth flying to the light' expression he had in his eyes before.

This was the Eric I knew and trusted. I could see how much effort it was taking from him to stay in control, so I simply kissed him. It was the initial shock I had been most worried about, and since I had already crossed that bridge, I didn't have that much concern about the rest. I didn't expect him to hold back too much – just enough to make sure that he wouldn't break me. He took my silent answer as permission and when he finally moved, he let go completely.

"Oh my God!" I exclaimed.

This was something else. I'd never had that kind of sex with Eric before – not that I recalled, anyway - but it did feel slightly familiar, like everything else had with Eric. I wasn't sure if it was my body-memory kicking in again, or if it was just because we were really compatible.

It was rough and wild; this was what people called fucking. To be honest, that would be probably the most precise name for what we were doing, but I couldn't quite make myself think about it that way because the emotional load lurking in the background was enormous.

"Eyes," demanded Eric and my eyelids, which had drifted closed from sensory overload, immediately snapped open.

I had noticed that Eric liked to maintain eye-contact while in intimate situations and I had suspected that no matter what position we started in, we'd always find ourselves face to face in the end. I decided I liked it – it made me feel like he wanted to be with me.

Eric slid his hands under my back, as if he wanted to make sure that there was absolutely no way to hold me any closer that he already was,all the while making sure – again and again – that he couldn't get any deeper. It made for a seeming contradiction of animalistic sex and a hug and I could only clutch him and try to keep up.

His T-shirt was irritating me, but we were pressed too close to each other to take it off. I rolled it up as far as possible until the sleeves got in my way.

Everything was so intense it was almost too much.

I felt like I couldn't take another second longer so, seeking some kind of release, I tilted my head to the side willingly baring my neck.

Eric moaned. I only saw him licking his lips from the corner of my eye before he pounced and bit. It was the last straw – and exactly what I'd been waiting for.

But I underestimated the force of my own body's reaction as it washed over me. I had to hold onto something and as it turned out, squeezing Eric with both my arm and legs wasn't enough. I felt like I was falling. Desperately looking for something to grasp at, I finally found it by sinking my own teeth into Eric's bent neck mirroring his actions. I tasted blood and, drunk on Eric, I threw caution to the wind and swallowed. I tried soothing the bite with my tongue, like he always did, but the blood didn't stop flowing right away. Eric cried out and moved even faster than before. For the second time his self-control shattered, but this time I didn't care one bit.

As we lay there, tasting each other at the same time, I felt something stretch and snap between us, like a bolt of electricity. The circuit was closed.

I opened my mouth only when I had to gasp for breath. Instead of calming down I floated on a long, high wave, like a rock that skips on the surface several times instead of sinking into the water . Eric lifted himself slightly and turned his head toward me. His parted lips were painted red. I hadn't even noticed when he removed his fangs from my neck – thank heavens he had done that in time, otherwise a sharp movement probably would have tore some of my flesh. I could get completely lost in the passion that burned in his eyes in that moment.

He kissed me before he collapsed on top of me.

This time I was unable to hold onto him, but I didn't have to.. My muscles relaxed to the point of becoming jelly without one conscious thought on my part. I had no choice but surrender. I couldn't control the shivers that were running through my limbs.

I would have been stunned, but saying that would mean that my brain was still working.

…and all of that would have been much more perfect if I didn't need to breathe.

Which turned out to be quite an important detail once I remembered it.

"Eric," I rasped, surprising myself with my ability to use articulate speech. "Air."

I stuck to the one-word sentences for the time being.

He pulled himself up onto his forearms lifting the weight from my lungs. I felt instantly better. He was still working on closing the wound on my neck and I wondered foggily whether the blood had stained the couch. At the moment I couldn't bring myself to really care.

I was still dazzled. My body and heart were a melting pot swimming with so many feelings and sensations that it surpassed my ability to process them all.

Eric stroked my messy hair and whispered something in some foreign language into my ear. I had no idea what he was saying, but his tone was soothing and it sounded gentle.

He was showering my face with light kisses that seemed almost unsuitably innocent considering what we had just done, and his eyes were warm. He licked – that's right, he licked my lips which made me aware that I probably had some remains of blood on them.

"I didn't hurt you, did I?" he asked concernedly.

I smiled at him.

"No, you didn't," I said rather pleased with myself.

Normally I would have probably been sore and paid for the wild pleasure once my hormones settled down, but even then, when I was laying there exhausted, I could feel Eric's thousand year old blood spreading across my body like a magic potion, recharging my every cell. I felt great.

It wasn't something I would do every night, but I wouldn't mind doing it again someday.

He laid his head on my chest and listened to my calming heartbeat. I didn't have any strength to move, so I simply put my hand on the top of his head.

He was sweet as pie and perfectly happy.

Turns out, men are really simple creatures.

"I know you wouldn't do that," he said suddenly from somewhere around my bosom.

"Mmmm?"

"I know you wouldn't… betray me." I didn't voice any of my inner debate on the matter ﹘ could I even really cheat on him since we had yet to establish whether or not we were together ﹘ that instantly arose in my head. "I wasn't mad."

I snorted disbelievingly.

"I wasn't mad at you," he corrected quickly. That sounded more likely. "But when you smell like that…"

"You lose your mind," I diagnosed.

"I wouldn't attack you," he insisted.

Well, at least not in the usual meaning of the word. One way or another – it was good to hear.

"I know, sunshine," ooops, this time it slipped completely accidentally.

But Eric only rubbed his cheek against me, so I took it as a sign that he didn't mind.

"I had to…" he started explaining, but then he trailed off tactfully.

I suppose he realized that finishing this sentence with something along the lines of "I had to take you here and now to prove that I am the only one who can do that" wouldn't be polite.

My, my, look who got sensitive all of a sudden.

"…replace that scent with your own?" I suggested a more civil alternative to save him.

"Yes."

I sighed. I knew I should move. I was slowly becoming uncomfortable. Some of us had circulation and such.

"I think we could use a shower," I told Eric.

I decided that I would let Eric join me. Otherwise, he would have probably come to the inevitable conclusion that all his hard work in applying his scent on me got wasted and that he had to do it all over again. There was still a chance that he would think of that. Not that I didn't like the process, but I needed a break.

Eric grunted approvingly.

"Did I tell you how much I value your creativity?" he purred.

I smiled. He sat up and finally took the damned T-shirt off. Only then, when I looked over his shoulder, did I realise that we had just had sex in a room without any kind of curtains in the windows – and one should keep in mind that I was no longer living in a secluded area, like I was used to, but in the middle of the town.

I groaned and looked around for my clothes.

"What's the matter?" Eric asked.

"I forgot that the windows are bare here. Anyone walking by could have looked inside."

This news didn't make much of an impression on him. I narrowed my eyes.

"Please, tell me that you didn't do that on purpose."

"I didn't do that on purpose," he repeated my exact words without missing a beat.

"Did you say that because I asked you to, or because it's true?" I asked suspiciously.

He shrugged.

"I wasn't thinking about the windows. I was busy."

He did have a point. I supposed he was telling the truth. He didn't seem to care one way or another.

He stood up, but when he tried to take a step, his pants, still trapped around his legs, got in his way. I burst with uncontrollable laughter. Eric smiled at me and, completely unperturbed, simply kicked off his pants the rest of the way. They were ruined anyway.

"How are you going to get home without your pants?" I got curious.

"I'll figure something out," he said light-heartedly while sweeping me off the couch and lifting me up in his arms with an added bounce.

I squealed dutifully.

He carried me to the bathroom and placed me in the shower stall.

"I love sharing showers," he informed me.

I sighed as soon as I felt warm water hitting my skin. This crazy day was ending much better than I could have predicted. Despite what Eric's enthusiasm for that type of activity might have suggested, the shower turned out to be a very peaceful experience. We washed each other unhurriedly. It was… nice.

Eric was eyeing me curiously and suddenly I realized that my previous assessment of the situation wasn't quite right: sure, he was very pleased – almost vibrating with his contentment – but he was also… cautious. And a little concerned. As if he was waiting for the other shoe to drop.

"What's wrong?" I asked softly.

"What do you mean?" he replied in a neutral tone.

"What are you worried about?"

"How do you know I'm worried?"

I froze in horror. I felt like someone had thrown a bucket of ice water on me.

Nothing in Eric's behavior or expression was pointing toward worry. With a delay it occurred to me that I hadn't read that information out of his face, but sensed it in a considerably less natural and much more suspicious way – and that I had just revealed that ability to Eric.

"Sookie?" he asked, his hand still holding my wet hair that he had been rinsing the moment before. "How did you know that I was worried?"

"I…" my voice faltered and I stopped.

My throat was dry. What happened? How did it happen? Had I just had a flash from his mind again? After all, it had happened not so long ago, so it was possible…

But Eric was absolutely, under no circumstances, supposed to know that.

I frantically tried to come up with some plausible excuse, but my mind was blank and with every passing second my silence was becoming harder and harder to explain. Eric wasn't stupid and I was sure it wouldn't take long for him to connect the dots. What was going to happen once he did?

"I… I don't know how it happened."

I took a shaky step back and pressed my back against the tiled wall.

The worst thing was that I noticed Eric becoming even more cautious – which meant that our connection didn't break as soon as it came, as it had the last time. I could still get a read on him. Thank God, this time I couldn't actually hear his thoughts, but would he believe me if I told him so? I was feeling his emotions, a little like when I was listening to the two-natured, but at the same time I could tell that it was somehow very different, in some fundamental way - as if the feeling didn't come from my mind, but rather from my gut. That, and I couldn't block him, even with my shields fully up.

"Did you feel my worry?" Eric asked, still in the same, calm voice.

I didn't know what to say, so I just nodded. He would have known if I tried to lie, anyway.

I was watching him with wide, scared eyes. I imagined how awful it would be if it turned out that, at the end, it was he who was to kill me – right then and there, minutes after we…

"Eric, I didn't mean to do that, I promise," I spilled anxiously. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to…"

"Shhh…" he hushed me, but I was too panicked to stop.

"I don't know what happened. But I swear I can't hear your thoughts. You know I'm not lying."

Eric's eyes widened, as if in sudden understanding.

"Sookie, no," he said. "Shhhh, it's not your fault."

It was his turn to fervently deny something, though I still didn't understand why. He reached for me and I stiffened. It took me a long moment to believe that he was simply hugging me. The relief I felt at the realization was so strong that it was almost painful. A sob escaped me and for a change I clung to him, grateful that he didn't react with aggression.

"What did you think I would do, anyway? Did you think I would hurt you?" he rumbled sounding slightly offended.

I bit my lip.

"I don't know," I whispered sniffing. "I thought you'd be angry."

"And do what? Hit you? For all the gods, woman…"

"I can't stop it," I blurted slightly hysterically. "Why can't I be normal? What is wrong with me?"

Without lifting my eyes to look at his face I felt his anger flaring as if it was my own.

"Nothing is wrong with you," he said so sharply that I flinched again.

He must have noticed that he was scaring me, because he murmured something soothing and stroked my head.

I heard him cut off the water.

"I think I know what happened," he said.

"You do?" I risked glancing up at him.

He nodded.

"And it has nothing to do with your telepathy," he assured me.

"It doesn't?" I was surprised. "Why did it happen, then? What happened?"

"We exchanged blood."

I gulped. It hadn't crossed my mind that biting Eric could have that kind of effect. I had drunk his blood before, but it looked like I had exceeded some kind of normal tolerance limit, or maybe it was because we drank from each other at the same time?

Either way, it told me one thing: it was my fault. I was the one to bite Eric without asking first and I should have known better than to think that I could just swallow vampire blood without consequences.

And then Eric knocked me into a cocked hat by saying:

"It seems that we have accidentally created a blood-bond."

"A what?" I asked warily.

"Come," he said instead of answering me. "We should get out of here before you get cold."

"Eric?"

"We can talk about it in bed."

I didn't try to fight him on that. I got out of the shower still on shaky legs and let Eric dry me with a towel and lead me to the bedroom. I sat in the middle of the bed and wrapped myself in a comforter. Eric sat next to me. He was waiting for me to start. Slowly, I managed to get a grip on myself.

"What did I do?" I asked right to the point. "Does this mean that I'm going to feel vampires' emotions now?"

"No. Just mine."

I felt unexpectedly better hearing that.

"This…" I touched my chest, where that foreign new sensation I was experiencing seemed to take root. It felt a little as if someone had tied a knot there, linking my body with Eric's with an invisible thread. "This thing… What is it?"

"That would be me," Eric shocked me by saying very matter of factly.

I stared at him for a moment speechless.

"But it'll pass, right?" I said shaking myself out of my stupor. "I mean… this bond… it will weaken with time if I don't drink your blood again, won't it?"

He seemed a little offended.

"Is feeling me so awful?" he asked.

"N-no," I hesitated, startled not as much by his expectations regarding my feelings on the matter, but more so that for a second there he sounded as if he liked that I could feel him. "No, that's not what I meant at all. But it's… confusing and… strange."

I was digging myself in deeper. Truth be told, feeling that kind of closeness to Eric was quite pleasant, or rather it would be, if it wasn't so unsettling. It made me feel warm and safe.

"You'll get used to it," Eric said setting off every alarm bell in my head.

"What do you mean? How long will it last?"

"Forever," was Eric's stoic answer.

"What do you mean for…" I couldn't even finish that sentence without taking another breath. I looked at Eric disbelievingly. "What do you mean: FOREVER?"

"Blood-bonds are permanent," he explained politely, stroking my cheek.

"You're kidding," I said hopefully.

"Not a bit."

I started shivering again when I realized that he was serious. What had I gotten myself into? Scratch that: what had I gotten us into? Whatever I did, it clearly affected Eric's life as much as mine.

"I'm sorry," I whispered on the brink of crying again. "I'm sorry, I didn't know…"

Eric put a finger on my lips.

"Sookie," he said firmly. "Look at me."

I couldn't make myself do that. He gripped my chin lightly to lift my head, but I had to swallow a few times before I dared to look up.

"I'm not upset," he said.

"No?" I asked softly, surprised.

He shook his head and brushed my tears away.

I didn't get that. How was he so accepting of the fact that I had done something that would tie him to me for a lifetime and that I would always know how he felt?

Eric was big on privacy.

"How can you not be?" I asked.

He did seem awfully cool about all of this. Which was good, but also slightly irritating.

"I like to be connected to you," he said frankly.

And then he waggled his eyebrows. I let out a clipped laugh.

He pulled me closer.

Now that I had calmed down a bit, I was finally able to focus on the emotions I was getting from him through our brand new connection, wave after wave. I gingerly let his feelings wash over me.

Deep satisfaction rolled over me. Eric didn't just accept the bond – he liked it.

But he was also still concerned.

"Then why are you worried?" I asked stubbornly.

"You're afraid and you're crying. How can I not be worried?"

Instead of answering I hugged him and nuzzled my face against his neck. I closed my eyes.

I felt Eric lowering us onto the bed and drawing the covers up.

"We still have to talk more about it," I muttered and then just to be clear added: "Later."

I was sure that I wasn't done freaking out over it, but I was drained and ready to let it go for the moment. My daily dose of panic was already exhausted.

Eric kissed my forehead. He was rubbing my back with an open hand and it felt very nice.

"Lover?" he whispered when I was already halfway toward dreamland.

"Hmmm?"

"You still didn't tell me what happened to you today."

Since this whole story was based on the idea of reversal of sorts, I thought I'd play one last trick on them and make Sookie to be the one feeling responsible for creating the bond for once ;)

I missed you all guys, so drop me a line!