Drop Dead, Gorgeous.

Disclaimer : Drop Dead, Gorgeous, is a piece of fanfiction modeled from Charlaine's Harris's Southern Vampire Mystery Series starring Sookie Stackhouse with a few liberties taken from TrueBlood, a show based off the same books. All recognizable places and characters belong to C.H. As a reminder, I earn no money from this fanfiction.

Responses to Reviews : Anonymous - Thanks for the question, I look forward to more thoughts soon! I didn't mark a pairing as of yet but I may. Yes there is a bit of Pam/Sloan, potentially Bill/Sloan in this 'book'. An overview of her character right now would be 24 Cis-F, Bi. Known Abilities : Telepathy. If anyone wants me to update that as things progress (since they will,) let me know.

Author's Note: Reviews and Criticism are appreciated.

[3]

THE PHONE WAS RINGING. I pulled my pillow over my head. No one could possibly be calling for me at this hour, and Gran was surely up to get it. As the irritating noise persisted, I realized Gran must be gone shopping or outside working in the yard. I groaned and reached for the landline on the bed table.

"Lo?" I cleared my throat and tried again, "Hello?"

"Sloan?" Sam's voice rang over the line. Uh-oh, only one reason to be calling me.

"Dawn didn't come in again, did she?" She was going to owe me. I thought of the days I might need, following next week. Maybe I'd cash in covering for her missed shifts a half shift at a time.

"I know you're on for tonight, Sloan. If you can go by her place and see what she's up to? See if you can get her to call me? The delivery truck just pulled up, and I got to tell these guys where to put stuff."

Obviously he meant now. I sighed, flipped myself over on the bed. I wanted to go back to sleep. I hadn't gotten in until close to one between driving to Bill's, the tense meeting with the trio of vampires, talking with Bill and then coming home. No wonder Gran hadn't woken me before leaving (as I realized her mind was not registering outside the house.)

Sam was still waiting for me on the other end of the phone, "Yes, yes ok." Sam thanked me and ended the call and I rolled out of bed, making it back up.

I showered and dressed in my work clothes, betting that Dawn was not going to come in, and brushed my teeth and hair on autopilot. My brain was still examining how things could have gone differently last night. The best scenario I should have left Arlene at 9 to her own and gotten to Bill's in time to prevent him from feeding from Jerry. I doubted Jerry would still be alive, but at least Bill wouldn't be sick. I wondered if Bill had called Malcolm or Diane to tell them about Jerry. Or was he going to let Jerry run his course with them? Wait for him to show up, unaware that he knew his plan.

As I went on my unwelcome errand, I wondered if the vampires had any sort of established justice system for themselves. There were vampire cops, but none in Bon Temps. Only the bigger cities had begun employing them, and they were pariahs in their own communities as far as I had read. Malcolm's group struck me as the Handle-It-Ourselves sort.

Pulling alongside Berry Street, I peered through my windshield at the three small duplexes that ran along one side. Dawn lived in one of them and she was home. Her green compact parked outside in the driveway of one of the better kept houses in the run-down area of downtown. The begonias hanging by her door were dry, I noticed.

She didn't answer the first time I knocked, and so I knocked again.

"Slo, you need some help?" The voice sounded familiar. I turned around and shielded my eyes from the morning sun. Rene Lenier was standing by his pickup, parked across the street at one of the small frame houses that populated the rest of the neighborhood.

"I'm just looking for Dawn!" I called, half turned from the house and toward Rene, "Sam asked me to stop by, see if I could find her!"

"Sam should do his own dirty work," Rene said, which made me defensive of my boss.

"Can't, no one to watch the bar since she wasn't there. Someone has to get the truck in." I turned and knocked again, "Dawn, come let me in!" I yelled. I looked down at the concrete porch. The pine pollen had begun falling two days ago. Dawn's porch was solid yellow. Mine were the only footprints. It was possible she'd been locked inside, spending the day enjoying herself with someone. But something in me doubted it. My scalp began to prickle.

Rene stood beside his truck, unsure if he should stay or go.

I walked to the front window, peering inside. The living room held only some flea-market furniture. A coffee mug sat on the table by a lumpy recliner and an old couch covered with a hand crotched afghan was pushed against a wall. Unassuming, the word came to me. It was not a word I usually applied to Dawn.

I headed around back, and Rene crossed the street to join me as though I'd signaled him. Dawn's bathroom window was so discreetly high, that I couldn't see in. She'd lowered the blinds in the bedroom but hadn't closed them tightly. I could see a little through the slats. I wish I hadn't. Dawn certainly wasn't coming to work today, or any day in the future. And she hadn't skipped out on purpose last night. Dawn was dead.

I could hear Rene coming up behind me and I called out, "Go call the police."

"What you say?" Rene asked, "You see her?"

"Go call the police!" I shouted. Though Dawn had never been shy in life, I didn't want everyone seeing her so exposed in her death.

"Okay, okay!" Rene beat a hasty retreat.

I stood with my back to the window, not wanting to look in again. I reached out to double check with my mind, but there was nothing in the room behind me. Not a void like the mind of a vampire, not the hum of someone slumbering, and certainly not the busy brain of someone awake. Dawn was gone. And her end had been violent.

I stood there through Rene's return, and his leaving to call Sam. I didn't give JB du Rune, one of the loveliest men Bon Temps ever produced, a chance to see Dawn's body, when his face appeared out the bedroom window across from Dawn's.

"What you doing out here?" he asked all curiosity and grin. JB was one of the loveliest men ever produced in Bon Temps, and so simple he didn't care if I knew what was in his head or not.

"Something seems to have happened to Dawn," JB didn't need to know what it was from me, the police would be asking him questions too soon enough.

"She in there?" JB scrambled out the window to join me, not wasting time going through the house.

I put a hand firmly on JB's chest, "Don't look in there JB, it's awful. Give her peace." JB put his arm around me and we walked out between the houses. JB was wondering if it had been the men that did her in. He was thinking about how she'd invited him over, a long time ago, but he had to leave because he couldn't do what she wanted. He'd been humiliated, but he couldn't hit a woman, even when she was asking.

I snuck out from under JB's arm and sat with him on the curb across from Rene. The three of us looked at one another. Rene was hoping no one knew he and Dawn had slept together, he was wishing Sam had come out here himself. That a girl like me shouldn't have been the one to have to see her. His thoughts were dark and spiraling, I pulled away.
JB had moved past his humiliation and was thinking he had forgotten how pretty I was, that he wouldn't mind us going back inside and –

I pulled my shields up, but my emotions made it hard to keep them in place. When the police pulled up I was relieved. I just wanted to explain what I'd found and go home. I know Sam needed the help, but I hoped he'd understand I couldn't come in today. I wanted to curl up with Gran.

"What's this about?" Kenya Jones asked. Kenya was the color of bitter chocolate and built to weather hurricanes. As the only black female cop on the force, she took her job seriously, "Rene says something happened to Dawn Green?" She'd scanned JB while she talked, Rene as well. I was aware of Kevin Prior, her partner, and her opposite in every physical way, looking at the ground all around us.

I recounted my morning, Kenya writing it all out in her notepad. Kenya had a great memory; the notepad was just for reporting. She folded it closed as I directed her to the window where I'd seen Dawn from, and both she and Kevin made their way around the house.

My shields shifted a little and I drifted into Kenya's head. She was thinking of everything, and Kevin needed to do to keep the investigation as textbook perfect as Bon Temps patrol officers could. She was thinking, she'd heard bad things about Dawn and her liking for rough sex. She was thinking that it was no surprise Dawn had met a bad end, though she felt sorry for anyone who ended up with flies crawling on her face. Kenya was thinking she was sorry she'd eaten that extra donut that morning at Nut Hut because it might come back up and that would shame her as a woman police officer.

Kevin came around the corner thinking that he better not botch any evidence and that he was glad no one knew he'd ever slept with Dawn Green. He was furious that someone killed a woman he knew, and he was hoping that it wasn't a black man because that would make his relationship with Kenya even more tense.

I pulled my hands through my hair, tired and instead of the heavy shields, I focused on the bridge that would lift me above the thoughts again. It was a little better. I sighed as Sam came hurrying up to me. I could feel his emotions (a mix of anger, worry, and concern) as they passed below me. Kenya caught his attention before he could come to stand beside me, "You have the key, Mr. Merlotte?"

JB leaned over to tell me Sam was his landlord, owning all three duplexes. Color me impressed, Sam was the first transplant to land in Bon Temps, be accepted, and then (apparently) become an entrepreneur. Normally someone came into a small town, bought up businesses and either ran it from a distance to collect a pay day, or if they did come into town, frequently got the cold shoulder. Sam had bought what is now Merlotte's three years ago, turning it from a failing business into a success, and then apparently set his sights on the downtrodden downtown row of homes. A hardworking man for sure.

"This fits front and back?" Kevin asked. Sam nodded and Kevin entered the home.

Sam moved closer to me, apologizing for sending me out but I was looking in through Dawn's window. I saw when Kevin stepped through the bedroom door, and then the smell hit him. He covered his face with his hand.

"… I was sure she was just shacked up with someone new and needed a reminder that she was supposed to be working. The last time I had to come get her, she yelled at me so much I just didn't want to deal with it again." His shame washed through me, "Like a coward, I sent you, and you had to find her like that."

I rubbed his back, "I probably would have done the same. There was no way to expect this…"

As Kenya and Kevin did their job, JB and I spoke a while, catching up. I found he was working at his dad's warehouse, his job of t resort whenever he did something that cost him the job he'd been working at. Like not showing up or offending a supervisor morally. I was surprised when he asked me about being in a relationship with Bill, "Where you hear a thing like that?"

"Dawn said so." JB's face clouded as he remembered Dawn was dead. What Dawn had said was That new vampire is interested in Sloan Stackhouse. I'd be better for him. He needs a woman who can take some tough treatment. I doubt Sloan knows what sex is. I found, scanning his mind.

It was pointless being offended by a dead person. I crossed my arms, "JB have you ever known me to be unfriendly to anyone? Wouldn't your mama want you to be nice to someone new in town?" I had JB there. He nodded thinking it through.

Another car pulled up, a detective to speak with Kevin and Kenya. Shortly after he joined us. "Miss Stackhouse," he greeted, using that quiet intense voice professional's adept in a crisis. "I'm Andy Bellefleur." The Bellefleurs had been around Bon Temps as long as there'd been a Bon Temps. This family member had graduated before Jason, and I'd been one class behind his sister, Portia.

"Your brother doing okay?" He asked, less neutral than before. It sounded like he'd had a run-in or two with Jason. Not an uncommon experience in his youth, still not unlikely today.

"Doing fine. Work has steadied him out some." Anything more would be fibbing.

"And your grandmother?" We went through a round of polite chatter, easing into the line of questioning. When had I last seen Dawn, did I talk to her, were we close. Etcetera. Two days ago, not really, and no, in that order. I frowned when his questions turned to Sam, who had by that point been called to answer questions with Kevin and Kenya. Checking on them I found this had been done strategically.

I was further agitated when his line of questioning also brought in Bill. As though our town's first vampire suddenly needed to prove his innocence. He ended with advising we'd need to talk down more at the station, "Can you come in a couple of hours?"

Since I was wore out, and was hoping Sam would have the sense to run only a short shift today since no doubt he'd also be coming down to the station (apparently given their questions) I agreed. "Is there a specific time you need me?"

Andy seemed pleased his authority wasn't being questioned. Our old high school connections knowledge of each other's family being dragged in. While he rattled off a time I combed through his insecurities. Everyone's story may be different, but at the heart we all want roughly the same things; to be respected, loved, appreciated.

Andy was a man of the law but was seen second to his sister, Portia, the lawyer. He was burly, and well-muscled, but not handsome by today's standards. He might be the man of the house, living with his grandmother and sister, but he certainly wasn't in charge. So being given his due at work by the people of Bon Temps was important to him. I could understand that. Though I still didn't appreciate the implication of either Sam or Bill in his questioning.

We parted on good terms and I let Sam know I was going to have to go down to the station. He confirmed my thought that he had been asked the same as well. As he walked me to my vehicle, I rehashed Andy's questioning with him. I didn't see a reason not to. He didn't seem surprised, and he acknowledged that wasn't that unusual, though he appreciated my refusal to believe ill of him. "I'd question anyone with access to the house to."

"Why Bill then? What does he had to do with Dawn?"

What he said surprised me, since I had carefully avoided a clearer view of Dawn's body when I'd been in the officer's minds, "Someone strangled her after beating on her a little. But she had some old tooth marks too. Like Maudette."

"There plenty of other vampires." I grumbled in response to his unspoken comment.

"Sloan, Bill is a good guy, for a vampire. But he's just not human." He said quietly.

"Are you?"

I LEFT MY VISIT AT THE STATIONHOUSE FEELING ILL AT EASE. After a canvas of the neighborhood, Detective Bellefleurs was no longer interested in Sam, though he knew he could have accessed the home easily, and instead was suspicious of Vampire Bill and Jason. I didn't like the way he thought of Bill, always as Vampire Bill, like his species condemned his identity. It was exactly the way some of the oldest members of Bon Temps looked at Lafayette and Tara. Even Kenya, though they'd stifle their disdain in the face of her badge.

Jason's being a suspect surprised me. I'd known he and Dawn had had their on-and-off agains, but I didn't realize he'd been visiting her recently. It worried me, especially when they'd asked me about his involvement with Maudette. I'd been so caught off guard and wanting to protect my brother I'd slapped my hands on the table and announced I'd had relations with Maudette and knew Dawn, did that make me a suspect too? I'd regretted it as soon as I said it, not because the way Andy's gray eyes had widened, or how red in the face he'd gotten, but because I'd dragged Maudette's brief curiosity into light when she had no way to defend herself.

And Andy? He'd thought to himself that it was no wonder I'd become a barmaid, despite testing so well through school. Any waitress was bound to be a slut. I gave him a piece of my mind in the interview room. It was a good thing Renard Parish didn't watch all their interview's or I'd be being held on the verbal assault I laid down.

Andy had stared at me and breathed, "It's true then."

I stood up and without waiting to be excused, thanked him for being sure to conduct a thorough and unbiased interview. So wound up, I couldn't take myself back home, where I'd spent the morning filling Gran in on the unfortunate news. Instead, I drove to Merlotte's and worked like a demon, with Sam's permission to clock in.

Terry had looked at me as I took my frustration out on the dishes, my jaw locked tight. He didn't talk much, and my agitation made him nervous, so he was sure to give me a wide birth. Seeing my effect on him reigned in my mood, and I apologized when I was able. He acknowledged my comment with a soft sound, patiently waiting me out.

"Dawn's dead," I said by way of explanation for part of my mood.

"What happened to her?"

"I don't know, but it wasn't peaceful."

"Maudette," Terry said, and I agreed. It would be too coincidental for the two murders not to be tied together. He looked out the window from the kitchen to the front. I wondered if he was looking for Arlene. They'd been to bed one night when Arlene had been drinking, and she'd confided in me that Terry had scars even worse than those on his face. I liked Arlene, and I was good of Terry to be concerned for her, but I hoped he wouldn't pursue her.

When there was nothing left for me to clean, I joined the others out on the floor. Arlene was in a better mood; her scare had passed and her problem seemed only to be Charlsie Tooten's inability to keep up. Charlsie filled in when the regular waitresses didn't show (or me if I was meant to to.) She was nice but older than all of us. I didn't know if she was going to go full time now that Dawn's spot was open, but it'd be nice if she did.

It had gotten out that I'd discovered Dawn's body, and I made a ton of money in tips. I didn't comment more than a few solemn words here or there and kept my face as even as I could.

I was exhausted by the time I got home. The last thing I expected to see, after I turned into the little drive through the woods that led to our house, was Bill Compton. He must be making the most of his time before he wouldn't be able to get out. I felt like I'd been caught doing something wrong. I knew he was sick, or going to be, and hadn't stopped by his house on my way home.

If I'd told Gran of his predicament, she'd be ashamed of me. A good neighbor checked in on their fellow man, or in Bill's case, vampire.

He opened my door as I came to a stop. If he had slowed down any yet, I couldn't tell. He looked comfortable in the night. "You seem troubled," he stated.

"Something happened you should know about."

"Tell me." He was trying to do that thing again, I could feel his power trying to impress itself on my mind. I frowned, brushing it away. He sighed.

"For future reference I do not appreciate that. We've established it doesn't work, let it go." I said sourly. I was in no mood. I moved to sit on the hood of the car, a temporary pucker forming under me. "Dawn was murdered. Just like Maudette Pickens."

"Dawn?"

"The other waitress at the bar." I reminded him.

"The redheaded one, the one who's been married so often?"

I laughed a little. "No, the dark haired one, the one who would walk hips first."

"Oh, that one. She came to my house."

This was news to me. He explained she'd been by before the trio's arrival, and that she was lucky to have missed them, however much she may have thought she could handle. "Wouldn't you have protected her?"

"I am a vampire, Aria. I don't think like you. I don't care about people automatically." His voice, as always, was cool. Matter of fact.

"You protected me."

"You're different." He reached to run his hand along my brow, gentle. "You're not like us, but you're not like them either."

I was well aware of this, but after such a humdinger of a day, I didn't need the reminder. It made me think of Sam. I'd asked him if he were human, and his response had left me in a foul mood that had carried right into my interview with Andy. "As much as you." Sam had said. But the problem was, I didn't know if Sam was human, at least, not completely. And I'd wondered enough on my own about my telepathy, if it came from somewhere that was less than an honest family tree.

He didn't get the reaction he'd been looking for. Maybe he was searching for agreement. Confirmation? I gave him nothing. And he asked instead, "Why did you think I needed to know about Dawn?"

For the second time I explained the detective's line of questioning, I concluded with my later outburst, "I couldn't stand to sit there and listen to Detective Bellefleur insult me. So, I left."

Bill had gone perfectly still, "There are still Bellefleurs here."

"Yeah, lots of them." I tilted my head, studying the hardness in his face. "I work with Andy's cousin Terry. He's like you, in a way, a veteran. And then there's Andy's sister, Portia. She works for a law firm out of town, but she and Andy live with their grandmother, Caroline. She's a Bellefleur by marriage though, I think she…" I stopped, watching as Bill's jaw locked together.

His eyes met mine and then tension eyes out of them, though his body was still wound up. "Please, excuse me."

Whatever I felt for Bill was no firmer than before. His reaction puzzled me. I wasn't sure if it was because he was vampire, as he kept insisting, or his personality. I slipped off the hood of my car and headed inside.