They arrived at Merlotte's Bar and Grill rather quickly once they reached Bon Temps. Despite Eric's giving directions, Lucifer was confident he could have found his way without any help. Bon Temps was that small of a town. Rolling up to the restaurant, Lucifer was impressed by the size of the parking lot—and by how full it was. Judging by the time, it was probably due to the fact that the dinner crowd and the drinking crowd were mixing, that strange spot where some people were only sitting down to dinner while others were gearing up for a night of drinks and . . . billiards and darts, if the look of this place was any indication.

Lucifer unfolded himself from the car and looked the bar and grill over with a critical eye. The restaurant was all by itself, surrounded by trees and shadows. The main building was a hunter green, long with big windows that were lit up. Above, on the slanting roof, was a large neon sign, lit up to announce that you had arrived at MERLOTTE'S BAR AND GRILL. There was an out building to the left, looking very much run down, and a trailer home parked to the right with just enough trees in between to give it some privacy from the bar.

"That's where Merlotte lives," Eric supplied, noticing Lucifer's curiosity. "I'd be disgusted, but I was living in my bar's fucking basement."

Lucifer chuckled at that and then turned his attention back to the bar. "Shall we?" he asked, striding out toward it, gravel crunching under his dress shoes.

"Luci." The word was strained and Lucifer stopped, turning in surprise to see a worried Eric.

He tilted his head to the side, studying his vampire. "What is it?" he asked, concerned. He didn't think this had to do with Sookie—this was something else entirely.

"Don't expect them to be happy to see me," Eric said, his eyebrows screwed up, his mouth set in a small frown. "The people of Bon Temps don't particularly like me."

"Well, I suppose I should expect that. Things were different not so long ago, yes?"

Eric grimaced. "No shit."

He gestured for Lucifer to go first and the two men walked into the vestibule of Merlotte's Bar and Grill. There was no one manning the host station and so Lucifer stepped through the archway and into the dining room proper. To the right was another archway leading into a games room where, unsurprisingly, Lucifer spotted a few pool tables and yes, indeed, a darts board. To his left were booths and tables, most of them full. Straight ahead was a long bar with a serving pass with a few plates of food waiting to be delivered to the patrons.

Sam had beaten them there and was already behind the bar, having a serious conversation with his bartender. He looked right at home there, plaid shirt blending in with all the wood the place was decked out in.

Eric joined him, the two tall men surveying what was very, very much different from both Lux and Fangtasia. This place was family friendly most of the time. Not at all Lucifer's style. Although the smell of the food was making Lucifer's stomach rumble, so perhaps there was something to be said for running a grill.

A short scream and then the crash of dishes to the floor stopped Lucifer's perusal of the bar around him. Eric groaned as Lucifer turned toward the booths to see a waitress in a short black skirt and white shirt staring at them in horror, hands held out almost placatingly. Tray and dirty dishes lay broken at her feet.

"Please," she begged, her eyes finding Eric's. "Please don't kill me. I didn't know what Marnie was doing; I had no idea we were going to curse you. You've got to believe me!"

Lucifer glanced to Eric. "One of Lafayette's friends?" he asked, remembering a similar response when they'd gone to visit the colourful man who had also been pushing V, old vampire blood.

"You could say that," Eric growled out.

"But we don't care about that, yes?" Lucifer asked, watching the vampire for any angry reaction.

For a moment, Lucifer wasn't certain that Eric would stand down. There was a thunderous look on his face and even Lucifer could understand wanting to get revenge for the curse that had originally been put upon him. But still . . . without that curse, the two of them certainly wouldn't have met. Or at least not in a way that would have struck up their relationship. Deciding he wouldn't let Eric lose his temper, he grabbed the pale man's arm and began dragging him toward the only empty booth in the place. He gave the waitress a look that begged forgiveness for their coming here.

"Come now, Viking. I'm absolutely starved after the flight out here." He nearly pushed Eric into the booth and slid in across from him. "Could I please get a menu?" he asked, voice raised so someone who worked here would hear. "I'd like to see what the Sh—Sam Merlotte offers at his bar and grill." He'd almost said Shifter, having already decided that would be Merlotte's nickname, but he somehow knew it wouldn't be wise to say it out loud in the man's place of business.

Vampires might be out of the coffin, but he was pretty sure shifters and werewolves were not. He'd certainly never heard of either before now. He settled himself in the booth, elbows on the table and hands clasped lightly before him. Eric glowered across from him and the bar continued to remain silent.

Sam had come around from behind the bar and was now kneeling to gather broken plates. He looked up at the waitress who hadn't budged from her spot, her wide eyes riveted on Eric with true fear in them. "It's fine, Holly. He's here to help."

Holly blinked in surprise at that. "Help? Him?"

Sam sighed, standing with a bar towel filled with broken ceramic. "I know; I'm a bit skeptic too. But I didn't know who else to turn to. Besides, he brought help—someone who seems to know how to solve mysteries."

The silence was broken again with a voice that was familiar to Lucifer. "Oh hell no, bitch."

Lucifer perked up, looking at the service pass behind the bar to see Lafayette Reynolds' familiar face peeking through. Long lashes and a do-rag was all he could see of the man, but Lucifer had no doubt the man was dressed to impress . . . even if he was apparently a fry cook.

Lucifer gave the man a charming smile from across the restaurant. "You'll be making my dinner?" he asked, sounding pleased. "Wonderful."

Sam looked angry as he moved behind the bar with his bundle of broken dishes. "Leave it be, Lafayette."

Lafayette looked affronted. "Leave it be?" he asked, incredulous. "Do you know who that man is?" He waved a hand in Lucifer's direction, and Lucifer's smile brightened even further. Lafayette was one of the few humans who had taken Lucifer at his word immediately. It seemed the fry cook was about to continue but then he stopped, mouth snapping shut as he thought better of announcing that the devil was dining at Merlotte's.

His head disappeared back into the kitchen with a few choice swear words, and Sam shook out his towel into a garbage can, the noise jarring. Moments later the world began to move again, conversations starting up at the tables and the clack of a pool cue against the balls in the other room bringing the bar to life. A waitress—not the one who had screamed—came by and dropped a single menu on the table.

Eric scanned the place while Lucifer perused his options. There was a fine mix of down-home comfort and southern fare, everything fried and positively unhealthy for you. A far cry from the preferred healthy options one would find in Los Angeles. He had to wave the menu in the air before their waitress came back and Lucifer couldn't decide if it was because the place was so busy or because everyone in Merlotte's seemed to fear Eric.

Apparently the vampire hadn't been kidding. He had a bad reputation in Bon Temps. Not surprising though. Lucifer was well aware of the man's previous transgressions—and there were many of them.

The waitress did return, biting her lip nervously. Her red hair obviously came from a bottle and her mascara was too thick, but the cock to her hip as she waited for him to recite what he wanted told him she'd been a waitress for a long time—perhaps too long. She didn't even bother to jot down his order, just filed it away to bring to the cooks.

Lucifer ordered the chicken fried steak with a side of hushpuppies, asking for a pint of whatever was on tap to wash it all down with. He noted that the waitress didn't even look at Eric, much less asked him what he wanted. Lucifer frowned as she walked away.

"Arlene," Eric supplied. "One of Sookie's friends. Perhaps our best bet, because Jason Stackhouse doesn't appear to be here."

There came a snort of derision from the booth behind Lucifer, and he turned in his seat to see a large man scoffing at them. "You don't want anything to do with Jason," the man said. "Fucking asshole is what he is."

Lucifer was in a prime position to see Eric's eyebrows shoot up in surprise. But then something seemed to register and Eric gave the other man a sardonic grin. "He's the reason you and Jessica broke up?"

"Fucking. Asshole."

"I take it you haven't seen him then?" Eric asked. "Sookie is missing and I was hoping Jason might know something."

For a moment, concern flickered across the other man's face, telling Lucifer he was normally a genuinely nice guy. Lucifer was suddenly certain the man didn't normally wear guyliner and dress like he belonged at Fangtasia either. Rebellion of some sort perhaps?

Before the man could reply—or not bother to reply—Lucifer stuck a hand over the back of the booth. "I'm Lucifer Morningstar. And you are?"

The man's response was automatic. His big hand enveloped Lucifer's in a warm and steady grip and a friendly smile almost lit up his eyes. "Hoyt Fortenberry, pleased to meet you."

A polite young man.

But the smile left his face again as he looked back to Eric. Unlike everyone else, he didn't seem scared of Eric, at least. "I haven't talked to Jason in weeks. But I know he hasn't been at Merlotte's the last few days." He nearly leaned over the back of the booth, getting closer to both Lucifer and Eric. "Say, how come I haven't seen you at Fangtasia? Where've you been?"

Eric blinked in surprise at that. "You've been going to Fangtasia?"

"Of course," Hoyt scoffed, like Eric should know better. But it was clear by Eric's response that this was unexpected. "Where else am I supposed to find someone new?"

Eric sat still, seeming to process this, while Lucifer looked between the two of them. Finally, Eric sighed. "You think to only seek a new relationship with a vampire?"

A gleam came to Hoyt's eyes then. "What else is there?" he asked. He made a gesture that seemed to encompass not just Merlotte's but all of Bon Temps. "There's nothing here. Certainly nothing exciting. And I sure as hell won't let my mother set me up. Ever again."

Eric just shook his head, a look of amusement on his face. "Just because you are bored of safety, doesn't mean you should go looking for trouble. You might find it's not worth it."

Hoyt snorted. "How the hell would you know?" he asked, before turning back around to continue his meal.

Eric just shook his head as Lucifer settled back to look at him.

A moment later, the waitress had returned with Lucifer's beer. Eric looked up at her but it was very apparent that she was doing her best to ignore him. "Arlene, have you seen Jason Stackhouse?" Eric asked before she could scurry away.

Arlene bit her lip again, her gaze finally meeting Eric's. "Nuh-uh," she said quietly, and even with just those two syllables, her southern accent was very apparent. Lucifer was most definitely in the south.

Eric's usual cranky demeanour suddenly transformed, a rare but beautiful smile gracing his face. Hell, it even reached his eyes. "I'm looking for Sookie, Arlene. She's missing; but you know that, right?"

Arlene nodded, some part of her wanting to believe he was safe and friendly, as he was suddenly appearing to be. Eric Northman could put on the charm if he really wanted to. Lucifer suspected if that didn't work, the vampire would resort to glamouring.

The thing was, it really didn't work. He could see Arlene responding to the warmth that the vampire was giving off, but a larger part of her was terrified of him. He didn't think for the same reasons as the other waitress, or Lafayette. Those two had had a part in Eric's memory loss. But this one? She was scared of things she didn't understand—and that included vampires.

Still, the fear didn't win. It seemed she knew Sookie, and her worry for her friend ultimately won out. "Sookie's been gone for a few days," she admitted to Eric. "So has Jason. See, I figure they went off on some family thing, but Sam's worried as all get out. As always." She tried to roll her eyes and laugh at her boss's expense, but Lucifer could still see the unease in her.

"A family thing?" Lucifer questioned.

"Oh, you know . . . maybe another aunt or uncle died and they had to go to a funeral. That sort of thing." Arlene narrowed her eyes at Lucifer. "I don't think we've met. How do you know Sookie?"

"Through Mr. Northman, of course," Lucifer said smoothly, lighting up with a smile to match Eric's act. He reached a hand out, "I'm Lucifer Morningstar. And you are?"

She took the offered hand just as quickly as Hoyt had, except in this case Lucifer was certain she was succumbing to his charm and good looks. Hoyt had been all about manners, but this woman . . . well, she may be a veteran waitress, but she knew a good looking man when she saw one. And Lucifer, if anything, was a fine specimen indeed, if he did think so himself.

"I'm Arlene Fowl—Bellefleur," the women replied, obviously having forgotten she was married for a second.

Lucifer almost preened, feeling confident suddenly. "It's lovely to meet you, Miss Bellefleur," Lucifer replied, pretending he hadn't caught her mistake and simply assumed she was single. "Mr. Northman and I are worried for Sookie's safety, after speaking with your employer. We'd been hoping to speak to her brother today."

Arlene's lips drew into a thin line and she shook her head. "He hasn't been to Merlotte's in days," she admitted. "I'm sorry I can't help you." She truly did seem sorry, now that her attention was solely on Lucifer and not on Eric.

A moment later she was regretfully leaving though, having been called back to another table looking for another round of beer.

Lucifer watched her leave, wondering why he'd rarely bothered wooing the tired housewife sort. He suspected that they'd be very eager to please if given the right opportunity. And eternally grateful for the proper attention, no less.

"I'm a fucking idiot," Eric swore from across the table.

Lucifer tore his gaze away from Arlene to see Eric scowling across the booth, not worried or sad but more likely pissed at himself. "Of course Jason would be missing too. He's got the same genetic makeup as Sookie."

"Of course," Lucifer agreed, making the connection. "If she's a halfling, so is he. What sort of fairy powers does her brother have?"

Eric shook his head, indicating the brother had probably gotten the short end of the stick, but then he smirked. "If he had any sort of fairy power, it was probably his dick."

Lucifer's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "I beg your pardon?" he asked, not quite certain he'd heard correctly.

Eric made a gesture toward Hoyt Fortenberry in the other booth. "Jason Stackhouse, from my understanding, has slept through the entire town on Bon Temps. Single, married. Doesn't seem to have a type other than someone of the female persuasion. And none of them seem to be able to say no to him."

Lucifer gave Eric a wide smile. "Sounds like a fun fellow, doesn't he?"

Eric couldn't help but smile back. "I've never had any issue with Jason Stackhouse. Even when he was at that fucking moronic anti-vampire cult, you could tell he really had no idea what the fuck he'd gotten himself into. He's dumber than dirt."

"There's something to be said about a himbo," Lucifer mused. "Why waste your effort being intelligent, so long as you're intelligent in bed?"

It seemed the topic of Jason entertained Eric, because the vampire couldn't help but chuckle. Shortly thereafter, Lucifer's meal arrived and he tucked into it with zeal while Eric continued to scan the restaurant. Lucifer was just finishing the last hushpuppy on his plate—delicious, he would have to give thanks to the cook, even if Lafayette didn't want to see him—when Eric stirred opposite him. "There's only one person here who might help us, and she's already said she doesn't know anything."

"The waitress?" Lucifer asked, picking up his napkin to make sure he didn't have any grease on his fingers or lips.

Eric nodded. "But she might be able to help us."

"How so?" Lucifer asked, dropping the napkin atop his knife and fork to indicate he'd finished the meal. "She's already told us she figured the Stackhouses had left town for a family related reason."

"True," Eric drawled, his blue gaze focusing on the waitress in question. Her flaming red hair was hard to miss. "But she's probably the only person in town who has a spare key to the Stackhouse home, and I'm the idiot who fucking gave the damn house back to Sookie." A low growl escaped him. "I should have just kept it, then there'd be no problem going up there and looking around. But no, I was in a selfless mood and gave the damn thing back—right before she fucking spurned me."

Lucifer frowned. "Right. You can't enter a person's home without an invitation." He perked up. "Well, that doesn't stop me. I could break in and then invite you in."

Eric shook his head. "It wouldn't work. Don't ask me why, but it needs to be an honest invite. And while Arlene doesn't live at the Stackhouse residence, I'm sure she's got a key. She's welcome there, so the invitation from her would work."

"No problem then," Lucifer said. "I'm sure we can get her to let us in."

"I don't think it's going to be that simple," Eric said. "She doesn't like me. Like I said, the people of Bon Temps have a specific image of me. But Arlene in particular . . . she's scared of vampires. And no amount of convincing on Sookie's part has ever really changed her mind."

Lucifer looked at her again and when he caught her eye, she began to make her way back over. "Come now, Viking. Between you and me, I'm sure one of us could glamour her into helping us."

Eric grunted a silent agreement, but Lucifer perked up.

"Let it be my turn," Lucifer said. "I'd like to know what Arlene Bellefleur's deepest desire is."

Eric quirked a single eyebrow at him. "Is that so?"

"A tired waitress in Bon Temps? How could I not want to know?"

"How was supper?" Arlene asked, her tired eyes almost worshipful as she looked at Lucifer.

"Positively decadent," Lucifer said and found he meant it. "My compliments to the chef. Was it Lafayette?"

Arlene shook her head and then gave Lucifer a smile that showcased a surprising but steadfast love for someone that was in the kitchen. "No, Lafayette wouldn't touch your order. Kept saying silly things about dinner with the devil. My Terry made your dinner tonight." She gave Lucifer a sad smile, and suddenly it was as if all her attraction to him and gone out the window. "I'll be sure to let him know you enjoyed it."

This wasn't a tired housewife, he realized. Something was exhausting her, but it wasn't her homelife. At least not in the way he had initially thought.

Lucifer tilted his head to the side, curious. Now he really wanted to know what it was that made this woman tick.

"Arlene, my dear," Lucifer said as she went to pick up his empty plate. He wouldn't let her leave until she made eye contact with him, at which point he dug deep, finding his devilish powers, and made a connection with Arlene that was impossible to pull away from. Her eyes turned glassy, even as her mouth opened in surprise. "What is it you most desire?" he asked, his voice offering a melodious promise that almost no human could deny.

Arlene Bellefleur was no exception.

Much to Lucifer's satisfaction, she told him precisely what it was that she wanted. And it was not at all what he'd expected.