Drop Dead, Gorgeous.

Disclaimer : Drop Dead, Gorgeous, is a piece of fanfiction modeled from Charlaine's Harris's Southern Vampire Mystery Series 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.

Author's Note: Early chapters have a lot of lifting from the book but that will change as things progress. Reviews and Criticism are appreciated. Ideas early enough may affect outcome.

[3]

I HADN'T THOUGHT OF RENE LENIER GOING TO SAM WITH THE STORY OF THE PARKING LOT FIGHT. He'd been a busy bee though and Sam squirreled me away to his office the minute I came in the door. Sam had never been mad at me before, and the tongue lashing he gave me had me close to tears.

I had to focus on the fact that Sam was only scared for my safety, I could 'hear' that clearly enough. If I hadn't, I might have been sick already. "If you think someone is being harmed in our parking lot, your next move is to call the police, not step out there yourself like a vigilante," Sam huffed. His face flush from the long speech.

"Are you gonna fire me?" That was the scariest possibility I could imagine. He'd pulled me before I could clock in and if he was gonna send me home, now would be the time to do it.

"No! No!" he exclaimed, apparently even angrier at the conclusion I'd jumped to. "I don't want to lose you!" He gripped my shoulders and gave me a little shake and I felt heat pass through the contact. Touch accelerates my ability, makes hearing the person I'm touching imperative. While Sam's thoughts weren't as clear as most people, his feelings were crystal: Sam desired me and that desire had made him very protective and concerned for me.

I hadn't been oblivious that Sam had had more than... friendly feelings for me. But I'd never been so confronted with them. I liked my job too much and Sam… Sam seemed like a one woman kind of man. Once he found that person, I don't know how he'd do if it didn't work out. Heck, I was even sure if I was a one woman kind of woman, much less a one man kind of woman. Sex was a loaded subject for me.

I didn't know what to say to him, how to react, so I muttered about getting started and whirled out of the office.

The rest of the night I avoided being alone with Sam. I don't know if Sam had initiated that contact on purpose but Sam was one of the few people who never questioned when I knew something. I wondered if Sam knew my secret and if he'd used that to tell me his feelings without having to say them out loud. If he had, it was up to me whether to acknowledge them or not. And for now, I was firmly in the 'not' category.

[Break]

THE NEXT TWO NIGHTS WERE BETTER. We fell into the comfort of our working relationship. I was relieved, I was disappointed. I felt like I was on the precipice of something. I felt we were at an impasse. I'd attended Maudette's funeral, along with Gran, to pay my respects. While we hadn't kept in touch since school, I felt driven to say goodbye.

The church had been jam packed and it seemed like everyone who had been present went to Merlotte's after, and anyone who hadn't gone was there to hear about how it was. There was a lot of talk that wouldn't have been public normally, but everyone's lips were loose with the drama. It seemed Maudette was more interesting in her death than life and I continued to feel bad for what was said. I grappled with how to deal with it.

I was also facing the concern about having two days off. The vampire, Bill, had not returned, and I was wondering if maybe he had just been passing through. Or worse, scared off by Denise and Mack. They hadn't been in either, but that was fine by me. Rene and Hoyt Fortenberry, Jason's best friend, had let me know they were still talking about doing horrible things about me. I can't say I was surprised, or alarmed. I'd know they were in the area, or actively planning anything against me if they were close enough.

Still, Rene made a point of telling me. I appreciated the warning, but he seemed to enjoy it a bit much. Rene was small like Sam, but swarthy with rough black hair threaded with grey. He didn't strike me as a follower, but seemed more in line with going with the flow until it served his purpose. This was likely why he had 3 ex-wives. In comparison, Hoyt Fortenberry's thoughts were normally sweet but a little slow. He was always cheerful and tipped decent. He admired my brother, far beyond what Jason deserved. His loyalty had cost him more than a relationship or two. Sometimes I wondered if he'd been married by now if he struck out on his own more.

I was glad they'd left before night fell. They'd been gone a few hours when Bill finally returned.

He sat at the same table as he had the first time. I like to think he did this to ensure he was in my section. Now that he was here though, I felt a little trepidation at asking him for a favor. It seemed very assuming.

I figured I'd ease my way into it, "What can I get you?" I asked, pen and pad at the ready.

He looked up at me. He didn't smile or blink he was so immobile. I pulled won my shields and tested again his silence. I relaxed, it was as soothing as a massage (or so I've heard. Again… touch isn't great for me.)

"What are you?" he asked, my image reflected back at me.

Kinda rude, I thought. I deflected, "I'm a waitress." I stated, deliberately misunderstanding him, and smiled.

"Red wine." If he was frustrated with my lack of answer, he didn't show it.

"Yes, sir. Be right up." I glanced at him again, "The synthetic blood should come in on the truck tomorrow."

He inclined his head in thanks and I slipped my notepad in my pocket, considering. "Would you meet me after work? I have a favor to ask, if I may." I'd rephrased it in my head several times, making it a request he could refuse.

"Of course." He looked as though this had been expected, "I am in your debt." Ah, it was. And he wasn't happy about it. Well, he'd agreed to hear me out, so onward.

"Not a favor for me," I clarified. "For my grandmother." Sam was watching me, wiping a section of the bar he'd already done three times. The rest of Merlotte's customers were focused on our interaction as well, so I rushed, "I'll be done around one-thirty. If you can meet me out back then?"

"I'd be delighted," he acquiesced and I whisked away to get his drink, being sure to check on my tables along the way.

Everyone was wondering about our conversation but no one asked. Not because he was a vampire, so far as I could tell he was still undiscovered, but just because I'd been talking with a man for a decent amount of time. His eye contact had been the thing that people remembered most, he'd spent the entire time studying me.
He paid as soon as I brought him his glass, a twenty percent tip on top, and shortly after was gone.

The rest of the night passed without incident and by the time I had gotten my wallet from Sam's desk drawer, I was beat. I glanced out the employee door before heading to my car, noting the dark customer lot. Sam wouldn't have turned the lights off if anyone had been in it, but it was habit.

The security lights from Sam's trailer illuminated the employee parking, and outlined the little hedge he'd planted along the front of his home. With the bar door closed behind me, I looked from side to side, wondering where Bill may be waiting, but I didn't see him. I had been kept over a bit later than I'd stated – mainly because Arlene and Dawn had left early so I'd had to take care of a lot of clean up myself. I tried not to be bitter about it, but I was a little resentful. My lack of a social life was taken for granted a lot.

I waited a few minutes and then shook my head, striding to my car. There wasn't much I could do about him not being here, I would just try again when – I stopped before I reached the driver door feeling the malicious intent before my attacker could strike. I spun and Mack Rattray's face twisted in a snarl. He was dead set on paying me back for embarrassing him, and he was pissed I'd heard him before he could sneak up on me.

I ducked before his fist could connect with my jaw. He was hopped up on something though cause not all his moves were choreographed thoughts and the foot he rose and planted into my sternum shoved me against my car. While I kept my head from snapping back against the roof, there wasn't anything I could do about the door handle as it jabbed into my spine. A heavy fist hit my stomach before I recovered and I fell forward, dropping to the asphalt like a sack of potatoes.

Dumb bitch. Denise's thoughts were giddy, as she laughed at my pain and I saw her booted feet before she joined Mack. I don't know if they were steel toed, but her smaller shoes didn't let me catch my breath for a minute. Mack grabbed my wrists and pulled me away from my tires, exposing my back to their punishment. I twisted and grabbed his wrists in return, trying to pull him off balance. Before I could pull him down, Denise slammed her heel down into my nose. I let him go and curled up trying to protect my face.

It was then I realized they weren't going to stop, when the pain gave way to fear. Mack and Denise were enjoying themselves and every blow spurred them on. It hurt to cry.

The next time a leg came at me, I snagged it and pulled. My grip was weak but I held on with all I had, pulling myself in and biting down. I heard Mack howl. I knew it was Mack because I could see Denise across from him in my head. Then from behind me I heard a growl and I could have whimpered. Had they brought a dog?

I took another kick to the spine, and I released Mack as I went limp. My thoughts spun. Oh God. Oh God. That last kick had done something dreadful. I felt disconnected from the rest of me in a way that terrified me more than the beating, now that it had stopped. I could hear my breathing, stertorous, and a strange bubbling that seemed to be coming from my lungs.

There was shouting – someone asking what something was. It had to be Mack, the voice too deep for Denise.

I heard the growl again, closer, right behind me. I'm sure the hair on my neck was standing, if it was able, but I couldn't tell. Then somewhere else I heard a snarl. My eyes rolled to see what was happening. I caught a look at my arm. Broken. My other one was… not visible but I knew it had to have fallen relatively close when I had let go of the leg.

A cold nose pressed against my ear, the whining familiar. The dog. I wanted to pet him, but my arms were beyond my control. I had the irrational need to thank him, like it'd understand me, but I coughed up a wet lump in place of word. The sigh I let out was far away. Maybe I wasn't saved at all.

The toads and the crickets that normally filled the night air were silent from the activity. I wondered if they were watching me die. One of the things I couldn't do was read animal or insect minds. I use to wonder at this sometimes, how things would be if I could do that, but not people. Animals would be fascinating. I'd be insane by the number of bugs though. I found this darkly funny.

The dog was gone, I realized, and I could hear two people talking. Suddenly a pair of bloody blue jeans came into view, then vampire Bill's face. Well that was just great. My last moments were spent having the tar beat out of me and now my scraps were going to be eaten. There was blood smeared over his mouth and his fangs were out, glistening white. Oh, so I wasn't even the main meal. I'd be dessert. Joy.

"I'm going to pick you up," Bill informed me.

I looked back at him. His mouth set in a thin line then and he looked me over, seeming to reconsider. "This will hurt." I tried to look on the bright side. Surely he had seen an infinite number of injuries, if he said I'd be fine it might be true. Then again, maybe feeding on me was a blissful experience and he was just alluding to it.

When his arms slid under me, I found my voice. I screamed.

"Quick!" came a voice, but it was out of my line of sight.

Then we were gone. One moment we were in the lit parking lot, and a moment later we were in the woods. I wasn't sure if I'd blacked out or if he'd done that speed thing vampires seemed to do. I didn't remember blacking out (I felt like I would) so he must've ran. However he had moved me returned some semblance of feeling to my upper extremities.

I could feel the blood trickling in my hair, and the pain of my broken arm and agony of every bruise formed and forming on my torso. My abdomen felt thick – heavy. Internal bleeding, my mind supplied. What I couldn't feel? My legs.

"Can you speak?" Bill asked.

I tried. The sound was a croak, but he seemed to understand, "Yes."

"I have a cure, but you must be willing."

My heart squeezed, hesitating. The sudden change threw off my rhythm, I could tell by his face this was not good. "Don't want to be a vampire." My voice was weak but my resolve firm.

His brow smoothed and he spoke gently, "You wont be. You'll heal. Quickly." Then he added, "You may notice some changes."

I considered, but there wasn't much time. A grayness was pulling at me and I knew if I went over, that would be it. "Trot out the cure."

I heard a grunt, as if Bill had hurt himself, and then something was pressed to my mouth. "Drink."

It took effort, an incredible amount. My tongue found something wet, cold and sweet. The unmistakable feel of cool skin pressed against my lips and I realized it was his wrist, the wet liquid was his blood. I forced myself to swallow once, twice. And then I wanted to – the blood was good, salty, the stuff of life. My arm rose – the broken one, and I gripped his wrist. I felt better with every swallow and then, looking up at him, I felt safe enough that I could sleep.

I drifted.

When I woke, we were still in the woods, and I could feel someone hovering over me, my back on the ground. There was a soft, wet movement along my temple – the vampire was licking my head wound. I wondered if he had cleaned all of my face first or if he would work his way down.

"Do I taste different, from other people?" I wondered aloud.

He stopped his ministrations, eyes gleaming down at me, "Yes." He answered in a thick voice, "What are you?"

It was the third time he'd asked me. Third time's the charm, Gran always said. I smiled, "I'm not dead." I categorized my injured body to find I didn't hurt but just the slightest, and these pains were fading very quickly. My arm was in one piece, my stomach no longer bloated, and my legs… I wiggled my toes with relief. "Thank you." I closed my eyes briefly, then sat up.

The movement took effort. I was whole, but weak. It was like how I'd felt after my first fever-free day post pneumonia as a kid. Feeble but blissful. I was aware I had survived something awful. Bill moved, and I found myself cradled against his chest. It was comfortable, soothing. In all honesty, it was the first time I had been held like this without being buffeted by the emotions of another person. I felt tears move down my cheeks and wiped them away quickly.

"What I am," I explained, "is telepathic. I can hear people's thoughts."

"Even mine?" He sounded merely curious.

I shook my head, "No." I sighed, head resting against his chest, "You cannot imagine the relief when I realized you, all vampires, are beyond me." I laughed, giddy, "It's so peaceful, not to hear at all after a lifetime of nothing but…" I held one hand up to my head, mimicking a mouth moving, then dropped it back to my lap.

"How do you manage going out with men? Surely men your age, their only thought is to get you into bed."

"Well I don't," unable to contain myself, I blathered on. "I don't date. Everyone thinks I'm crazy, you know? Because I can't tell them the truth; which is that I know all their thoughts. I know the things they don't even know they think about." That was a doozey, hearing not only a person's conscious thoughts, but the layers under it? Most of the time I heard surface thoughts, unless I was trying to listen (or they were exceptional broadcasters) but I could do both, "I've dated, but very little. You can't concentrate on being comfortable with someone, when they're wondering if you dye your hair, or comparing you with their ex, or imagining what you look like naked."

Suddenly I felt more alert, realizing how much of myself I was revealing to this creature. I winced, "Excuse me," I said. "I don't know why I'm telling you all this." I struggled to regain my composure, "Thank you, for saving me from the Rats."

"It was my fault they had a chance to get to you at all." I could tell there was a rage just under the calm surface of his voice. "If I had the courtesy of patience, it would not have happened. So I owed you some of my blood. I owed you the healing."

If I had been out when I said I would, he wouldn't have needed the 'courtesy of patience,' as he put it. But I digressed. Instead I looked in the direction of the dim lights of the parking lot, through the trees, "Are they dead?"

"Oh yes." His voice came out like rough gravel.

"Good," I said, with a vengeance that surprised me.

"Sloan," my name had never sounded so smooth before. "Why did you want to talk to me tonight?" When I didn't answer right away, he reminded me gently. "What was the favor, for your grandmother?"

"Oh!" Though I was better physically, my mind was still hazy and his prodding jump started it, "My grandmother wondered how old you were," I admitted, unsure of how personal a question this was, "She wondered if you might have been in the war. The American Civil War," I clarified when I realize without his age, he may have lived through many.

He stroked my hair. In my dreamy state, it felt nice. "I was made vampire in 1870, when I was thirty human years old." He looked at me expressionless, the glow of his face hovering along his skin, "I was changed shortly after the War."

My questioning had not seemed to disturb him, and I felt no fear now, "Would you be willing to speak for my grandmother's club? They would be so happy to hear of it, to hear your experiences."

He considered this, circling back to the mention of the club and I clarified, "The Descendants of the Glorious Dead." The name felt over the top, but no one asked me. Besides, over the top was something we did well.

He repeated the phrase, and I could tell from his tone he wasn't happy.

"They've their own idea of the War, but they would like to know more about the way people lived then. The day to day, and the uniforms, the troop movements."

"Clean things." He summarized.

I nodded and he mulled this over. "It would make you happy if I did this?" He asked.

"It would mean the world to my Gran, and that would make me happy." I leaned back to look at him, "I didn't ask before, but you are planning to live here?" I couldn't imagine why else he would have stayed more than a night or two in Bon Temps, it certainly wasn't the nightlife.

He made a sound of affirmation and I pointed out, "This would go a long way to building good relations. The club doesn't have many young members, but there is a good chunk of the town in it, or has family in it. If you made a good impression, it would smooth things out for you."

"Then I'll do it." Bill agreed. I think he would have agreed anyway, without my promotion for himself, but I could be wrong. It was a change, not to know for sure.

"Thank you." As I stood, he followed me, and walked side by side with me. As we got to my car he turned, looking down at me.

"Can I call on you some night?"

I'm sure I was the picture of surprise. I must be vampire bait, I was three for three on the interest it seemed. It would be rude to reject, after what he had just done for me. And as I looked at him, I could see that he was handsome in a classical way, "Ah, sure. I work my last night tomorrow and then I'm off for two days. So… Thursday?"

He nodded, and opened my car door. I slid in, only then realizing I didn't have, "My keys." I looked around the gravel lot and Bill moved without seeming to take a step, and held them out to me, "Thanks."

By the time I had started the car, Bill was gone. It was only then I remembered the dog and I glanced around to see if I could spot him, but it was nowhere to be found. I hoped it had gotten home safely.