The next day hit me hard. I needed a moment to readjust after my clock on my bedside table had basically scared my half to death. I had snuggled up to Tom who had been by my side on an air-mattress. The sun had warmed out bodies and our souls, leaving a big smile on my face while the continuously rising temperature from our humid surrounding of the swamp almost felt like someone had dropped us in a hot bath tub. With a happy sigh I'd listened to his constant heartbeat while we both enjoyed each other's silence company. Tom had kissed my forehead causing his breath to tickle my skin.

"I am so sorry!", he whispered, so I turned my face towards him in confusion.

"Sorry about what?"

His beautiful features got twisted and his hazel brown eyes started glowing in the late afternoon sun like whisky. I could almost feel him saying something underneath me, waited for his tembre to vibrate through my body, but he stayed silent.

I shock his shoulder.

"Tom?"

The freaking ringing of my alarmclock got me to basically jump out of my skin and literally fall out of my bed bruising my backside on the dirty covered carpet.

Well good morning world.

Parts of my brain were still trying to unwiggle from my dream. I had half expected to roll down from an air mattress but I was sitting on the floor of my former blue carpet next to my white  bed frame.

So swamp, no New York, no Tom.

Bon Temps.

Planet Earth.

Plus I was late for my early shift. Again.

Like every morning I felt the crushing pain of loss tumble over me after realising it all just had been a dream. I placed my hand over my broken heart as if it would help me wand of those crushing cramps of pain and suffering.

I took a deep breath.

Once.

Twice.

Three Times.

The more I was awake, the easier it got to bottle up the pain again -  push it aside. Another dream of Tom.

Like every night.

And I had woken up in pain after realising it all just had been a dream and he'd actually been brutally murdered.

Like every morning.

Quite the routine I had going here. Weren't routines suppose to be a good thing? Well, I had to include my breathing techniques in my morning routine, since waking up in agony was part of my life now. I felt my heart break into a million pieces again, sight and got up. I had found a way to keep my head above water instead of drowning in my sorrows. Jumping into action - well and alcohol I guess, but it was early in the morning and I was still shaking from my dream so drinking didn't seem like the right next move. Especially not considering what had happened the night before.

I froze.

Right. James! Eric! The world turning upside-down. That whole thing!

As soon as I had turned the keys to my little apartment and touched my beds surface I had been sound asleep. Apparently I only managed to pull of one of my shoes and slept in my greezy Merlottes Uniform. And I smelt!

Untangling my legs from my bedsheets I got up. Time to take a shower. Accompanied by a squeaky sound the water hit my naked skin -  way to cold for my taste. I turned the heat up and started scrubbing of everything that had happened. Physically and emotionally.

My thoughts started to wander.

1) I had met Eric Northman. And he had noticed my. Yikes. Not good.

2) James had found me and had pulled me into his bullshit again. Double Yikes. Again - Not good.

With a deep sigh, I shampooed my hair.

James hadn't told me what his exact plans with me were. He'd made clear he would come back to contact me as soon as "they" were certain of my loyalty again. Whatever that means. Drawing my assumption from my experience, I would guess he was talking about him and his psycho-girlfriend.

Literally. She was on the run from an asylum!

Knowing them (and I knew them better than it was good for me) they would try to sort out a middle class business or a bank with low security measures getting them of my back for a while.

Honestly, I had been more than relieved when James had jumped in his old, rusty black chevy to drive away. I would help him and hope that we'd be done with one another once and for all. At the same time, I doubted it. Some people, no matter how hard you try, you just can't shake.

Hopefully, the time I bought myself would be enough to pull though with my plan with Eric Northman. For Eric Northman. Whatever.

Another deep sigh escaped my lips. Because I was annoyed by his pure existence. I swear. It wasn't because of him looking like Sex on sticks  or anything. No, honest to god.

With a cracking sound my forehead hit the cold tilework in my shower, my eyes closed shut trying to steer my thoughts away from Eric Northman. How he basically hovered into the bar, moving majestically like a wild animal. while he had pinned me down with just one look, his body pressed against me and my-

Stop.

Change of subject.

I tried to recollect all the gathered informations I had this far concerning this tall blond Viking. Like opening a file on a computer my brain fabricated charts and folders for me to mentally look into to find the information I was looking for. Close to a photographic memory!

I felt my lip curl up ever so slightly. There was a reason no one tried to argue with me being ace. I used to be the smartest of the bunch after all.

Reevaluating my informations I realised just how much I was in trouble with this guy. Eric Norhman was some kind of celebrity even for his kind holding a political position of power. Sheriff - which sounded weird but actually turned out to be kind of a big(-ish) deal. Apparently.  Maybe Sookie could help me out with the specifics. According to local news, he owned a few businesses and hold a CEO position in some institutions making him not only a tourist attraction but almost a local celebrity - at least for the people of Shreveport - Louisiana.  To summarize: He was an incredibly old, ruthless, good looking and tall local celebrity businessman who was involved in politics. Him going missing would have consequences.

Trying to get a few last drops of hot water from the broken heater I turned the hot water on full on blast. I really had to talk to Sam about the hot Water situation.

By now the stem had filled up the room, making it difficult to see causing me to close my eyes and rid myself of the conditioner. Massaging my scalp.

A small part of my brain I had been able to shut up before got reactivated asking me questions like: How would it feel if Eric would stand in the shower with you massaging your scalp. Maybe his fingers would get a hold of your hair, grab it, pulling your head back with it bend your neck back. Touch your shoulders. Neck. Letting his finger slit down further along your spine, caressing your breasts...

Realising what I did, a growling escaped my lips. Oh for gods sake. I turned my water down to cold. Jittering and with chattering teeth I stepped out of the shower. At least I had stopped thinking of Eric.

My thought back to business I tried to come up with a plan to achieve on simple but almost impossible task: Kill a 1000 year old vampire who had killed the love of my life.

With my thought occupied I got dressed in whatever I could find lying around on my bathroom floor. Taking a glance in the mirror to see the end product I realised it would probably do me some good to become more vain again.My skin was pale and colourless. Month of nightmares and stress had left their mark as dark circles under my eyes. My wet hair clung to my shirt looking dull leaving wet stains on my babyblue shirt. They looked like they could use a mask.

I grapped a towel from the stand and got my hair into a turban. Done. Out of sight out of mind! If I would run around town looking the way I looked right now, they would probably call the CDC and send me back home waiting for the Zombie-Apocalypse. Or worse -  they'd ask me how I'd been.

Shuddering with the image of Maxine Fortenberry asking me all kinds of personal questions in my mind, I pulled out my makeup back and started concealing my zombie-like circles under my eyes, added some rouge and hoped my use of mascara would let me look more awake and less like and escaped coala or racoon.

I still looked like death. But pretty death, so I figured nobody would go through the trouble of actually checking on me. Thank god people were so shallow.

A sudden, unexpected knocking had me shriek and I jumped. Huh. I was most definitely not expecting anyone. Already in a mode to jump to an attack, I grabbed my nail scissors and peeked through the peephole. Surprised, I opened the door.

„Sookie?"

With a nervous look she stood on my doorstep biting her lower lip.

"May I come in?", she asked, breaking all Southern Rules she usually was so accustomed to. Oh something was wrong alright.

"Hey. Jeah. How rude of me. Sure, come in!"

With the door still in my hand, I turned around quickly scanning my living room for things I had left lying around. Others looked for embarrassing things like a weird tabloid or empty bottles of alcohol. I wanted to make sure all my weapons and documents regarding Northman where hidden away.

Sookie to my left giggled. "Northman, huh? So he did leave an impression I take it."

I froze in place. "What did you just say?"

"Honestly Ash, I wouldn't exactly advice him. I don't know if you can really ever trust that tall blond glass of water."

My eyebrows must have touched the hair on my forehead.

"Say what now?" Then I understood. "Sookie! You promised, you'd stay out of my head!"

My tone was more sharp than I anticipated and Sookie raised her shoulders in defense.

"I'm sorry. You just had thought of him so clearly, I started talking before thinking.", she explained her eyes focusing on my face with intrigue. "which is weird because usually your thought are more abstract like they are.." she pouted her lip and tilted her head. "Like I don't know. Melting I guess."

Crap. Crappidy Crapcake. Crap.

I kept forgetting Sookie and her nasty habit of reading other people's minds. She must have notices my temper rising so she raised her hands in defense.

„Damn it. Sorry. Habit. Never mind me asking. Just had heard his name and was intrigued. But of cause its non of my business. I usually am way better at staying out of things, I promise. I'm just not really myself today and..."

She dropped her head when her body basically crashed into my old used couch. It squeaked even under her light weight. She placed her arms on her knees and her head in her hands. A pose of defeat.

Ooookay, it was going to be this kind of talk. Great. I did not really have time for that kind of drama but Sookie seemed to sad and broken, I couldn't just try to get her out of my apartment again.

„Tea, Coffee or Bourbon?" I asked instead and got back into the kitchen, grabbing the can from the cupboard.

She raised her head and looked at me with cheeks covered in tears.

„Coffee but Irish!" I decided and started my good old coffee machine. My hole pride. My Love. My Soulmate. When the coffee started running through, I got out two cups and opened a bag of cookies I had bought in a weak moment at the supermarket. I had tried to cut of sweets. And failed desperately. Having Cookies in the House was like the first rule of living in the South. Mine weren't freshly baked like Sookie probably would have gotten freshly out of the oven, but I was proud enough to be able to offer anything at all. I was a New York Girl through and through. When placing the cookies in front of Sookie she took a big bit.

.„He's gone!", she whispered and eyed her cookie like it tell her the secrets of the world. Truthfully I'd guess she just didn't want to look me in the eyes during our little chat. I got that, I was the same. Her statement tho, I didn't get. 

„Who is gone?"

„Bill."

„Bill?"

„Bill!"

„Gone like "on a holliday" gone or "Print my face on every milkcarton of the country" gone?" I asked confused. She shrug her shoulders looking frustrated. 

„Sookie, I don't know when I'll be back. If I'll be back. See ya.", she growld, imitating his voice. I would have laughed about her paraphrasing at the end when she would have started crying her eyes out just then.

Aaaaaah. Help. Not tears please. I never knew what to do when someone started crying. Was one supposed to hug the other person? Maybe yell at them to stop crying and be such a baby? Tell them lies that everything was gonna be okay? Slap them? The last bit I could do...

Thankfully, the coffee seemed to be done so I jumped at the excuse to leave the room and stump back into the kitchen to fill up both cups with some Irish Coffee.

Schniffling, Sookie took the steaming cup of coffee.

"Thank you"

Taking a big sip she started coughing.

"That's not coffee with Bourbon, that's Bourbon with coffee."

I looked her point blank in the eyes.

"And?"

"Thanks! Already helping."

She grinned and my lips curled up as well. Good to see her spirits return when she wiped away her tears.

"I don't even know if I am sad or angry. Being angry is so much easier.

Amen Sister!

"And then there are all those other things"

Again, I nodded in agreement. It wasn't even fake, like I used to agree with many other people on a daily basis to avoid conversations. I actually agreed with her. Identified with her.

"And all those death..."

Okay, now it started to become creepy. Was she reading my mind again? Nah. I was starting to be paranoid... probably. She was not talking about you!

Continuing to nod, I hid my face behind my cup and enjoyed the burning sensation of the alcohol washing away any other pains leaving me numb. Which was how I felt most days since all this started. Numb.

Sookie shock her head and her eyes started to sparkle again,

"-which is why I figured we could just as well catch a killer today and eat pie. You in?"

Wait. What? I missed something!

Her grin was scary.

"You. Me. Roadtrip!"

Okay, I definitely missed something!

"Slow your horses girl. What are you talking about. Roadtrip? Murder? Most importantly why do you think it would be a good idea to catch some lunatic today, who by the way has the police left to their own devices leaving no clue whatsoever, and why the HELL do we need pie for that?"

Was her newest thing reading the future in the leftovers of pumpkin pie now? Jeeez, I needed some new friends!

Again with the head shaking she started to explain.

"Right! You missed your morning shift today, forgot about that. Everything got kind of twisted and fucked up this morning. I -", she fiddled around the with the handle of the cup "well I guess I kind of got attacked by Mr. Creepy this morning", she just dropped on me like a ton of bricks. Then she raised her hand - a motion to tell me to let her finish the story. "and touched me in doing so. So I got a few mental pictures from inside his head. Now I know his name is Marshall and he knows a gal working in a Pie Shop a few towns over!"

The only emotion left on her face was excitement, no shred of fear. That girl is gonna die young!, I though still trying to regain my posture. Poor Jason, it's gonna break is puppy dog heart.

Sure. Attempted murder in the morning, pie in the afternoon. Welcome to a relationship with a vampire. God-  I would stay away from that kind of trouble for sure.