Author's Note: I suppose I should've posted this sooner, but I've obviously taken material directly from True Blood Episodes and Ms. Harris' books. Thanks to everyone who's reading, and a big gracious thank you to those kind enough to take the time to respond. I'm rather enjoying myself, and it's nice to know other people are too. Without further ado:

Third Night

I felt the warm sunshine on my face, and as I lifted my head towards it, I could see the red glow on my closed eyelids. At the soft sound of a horse's snort, I opened my eyes and looked around. It was my house surrounded by blooming azaleas, and I was sitting comfortably in a saddle in the middle of the well-tended yard. The sun felt good on my bare arms, the smell of blossoms floated on a gentle breeze, and I could feel the animal's warmth on my thighs.

"Papa," a little voice said. She was sitting in front of me in the saddle, her blond curls bouncing with the horse's movement. She leaned back to look at me upside down, and I saw my own blue eyes peering from beneath thick blond lashes. "Faster, papa," she insisted.

I tightened my arm around her as I kicked the horse. We flew across the yard towards the cemetery, my daughter squealing with delight. The horse reared back as we approached the fence, and she clutched at my arms, pressing herself back into my chest.

Heading back at a gentle gait towards the house, I saw Sookie walking towards us with a glass of lemonade. The breeze blew her thin cotton sundress, and I saw her belly was just beginning to round with my child. "Bill," she chided with a smile. "You'll scare her."

My daughter laughed defiantly, sounding for the world like her mother. "I wasn't scared."

I swung my leg around and jumped down before reaching up for my daughter. She threw her arms around my neck, her heart racing. "Maybe just a little scared," she whispered, her breath hot in my ear. "But you'll protect me."

"Always," I whispered back, kissing the top of her head. I set her down, and she ran off laughing towards the house. Sookie smiled at me and offered the lemonade; it was ice cold and heaven itself couldn't taste better.

She leaned against me, and her tongue darted out and licked a drop of sweat from my forehead. I moaned and immediately hardened as I gently pressed into her.

"Don't tease," I said.

"Oh, I'm not," she laughed, and I could feel her love and her desire as if it were my own.

I scooped her up in my arms, and I couldn't stop myself from catching her lips in a kiss. Her sweet taste mingled on my tongue with the tart lemons. Shielded from view of the house by a small hill, I laid her in the grass, and she immediately reached up for me. Once more her lips were pressed against mine, and her tongue teased my lips before I opened my mouth to let her explore. I rubbed gently against her breasts, pinching her nipples through the thin fabric of her dress, moving down to enjoy the swelling between her hips. Her fingers fumbled with my belt and my button, and she struggled to pull down the zipper.

Her hand was hot as she eased me out, her grip confident and familiar. I kisses and nibbled her neck as she stroked me, and I reached under her dress to discover she wasn't wearing panties.

"Impatient, sweetheart?" I teased as I stroked her soft wetness.

"For you, always," and she gasped as I entered her with two fingers.

Her legs wrapped around my waist like they were part of my own body. She arched into me, and I entered her in one swift movement. I sucked her shoulder into my mouth as she moaned, and I felt the sun on my back as I thrust into her again.

When I woke up staring at the floorboards above me, for a moment, I didn't know where I was or why I was alone. Like all my dreams, it felt as real as the dry, packed dirt beneath me, and I closed my eyes and longed for the smell grass, the warmth of the sun, my child in Sookie's belly, her hot tightness clenching around me.

The last time I'd seen the sun was two days before Lorena released me. We fought, and when I shattered a chair against the wall, she'd held a splinter to my heart. "Do you really want to end it?" she asked. I couldn't answer, so she took my hand, and we ran out of the city and into the California desert. As the sky in the east began to lighten, she kissed our entwined fingers and said she'd rather we both die than live apart. We were badly burned when she dug into the hot sand, and she commanded me to follow her.

I immediately shook thoughts of Lorena out of my mind, and instead explored the idea of displacing memories of Caroline and my Sarah, here in this house, with Sookie and children who could never be.

When I was human, I knew some men didn't think too much on it when their wives were with child. Life was hard, and so often children and wives died. But my favorite human memories, the ones I treasured the most during the long years of war when I felt a lifetime away from everything I knew and loved, were of lying in bed with Caroline before our children were born. There in the dark, I'd press myself against her warm back, one leg thrown over hers and my hand resting on her belly. I loved feeling my child bump and move inside her. It was like being allowed to touch God.

I hadn't thought of those nights in years, and I waited for the emptiness to consume me, as often happened when I thought about my lost human life. But it never came. Instead, I smelled Sookie's blood on my clothes and Sookie's scent on my hands, and I felt only hunger and the hum of contentment that buzzed along our bond. She was so close to me while I rested, just across the field, and she must've been outside enjoying the sun. She must've been thinking of me.

I was hungry and hard and still covered in blood and dirt from the previous night, so I quickly opened the trap door and gulped the last two TruBloods out of the cooler before rushing upstairs to change.

As much as I enjoyed it, vampires don't need to bathe: no bacteria to cause odor, no sweat. Vampire skin and hair repels everything that comes in contact with it. I knew several vampires, before the Great Revolution, who attempted to dye hair or use spray-tanning products to better blend into human society, but as soon as the chemicals dried, they brushed off. I soaked my soiled clothes in cold water and detergent and briskly rubbed my skin and hair. As I ran my fingers over my face, I wished again that I'd shaved before being turned. Now they have special clinics that cater to those about to be turned, and the humans are trimmed and waxed and buffed and whitened to perfection before being frozen in time.

After dressing, I rushed outside and across the cemetery. I could feel her nervousness mixed with excitement and anticipation. And lust. I could feel her lust. I told myself to slow down and walk across the yard at human speed, but once I realized she was outside waiting for me, I couldn't help but get to her as quickly as possible. The old floor boards on the porch groaned when I stopped moving, and she turned around, her breath caught in her throat when she realized I was suddenly there.

"Bill," she stammered. "I… I don't like it when you do that."

"I've upset you?" The last thing I wanted was to scare her, and I longed to take her hand in mine.

"No," she said. "Well, since you're here." She put aside the broom she'd been using and held open the door. I felt the house's barrier with my toe, and I would gladly give up immortality to be a normal man who could walk through an open door. "What's wrong?" She smiled at me and gestured once again towards the door.

"You have to invite me in," I said. When she looked confused, I reluctantly explained. "Otherwise it's physically impossible for me to enter a mortal's home."

"Seriously?" she said, as if I would joke about being so different from her. "Well come on. Try."

Once again, I probed the invisible barrier with my toe. "I can't," I said. "I can't even try." If I were capable of blushing, my face would've been brilliant red.

"That is so weird," she said, and I could feel her amusement and delight. "Oh Bill, won't you please come in?" It'd been so long since someone teased me that I wasn't sure how to respond.

"Thank you," I said. I started to move through the door, but she stepped in the way to stop me.

"So, if I were to withdraw my invitation, would you have to leave?"

I nodded, worried that she was already thinking of rescinding my invitation.

"I'll have to remember that." She smiled at me again as she showed me into the living room.

"Good evening, Mrs. Stackhouse," I said to her grandmother. "Thank you so much for having me."

"Oh, Mr. Compton," she blushed. "You're most welcome." She held out her hand, and I tried not to show my discomfort when I shook it lightly. Vampires don't touch each other casually. The transfer of scent is too powerful with such direct contact.

"Please," she said as she gestured for me to sit down on an old sofa, the other two chairs occupied by Sookie's bother and the girl who appeared to be her closest friend, neither of whom stood to greet me. Sookie sat next to me, perched on the very edge and as far away from my body as she could get. The space between us felt charged with electric tension, and once again I found myself wanting to touch her, any part of her. An arm around her shoulders, her hand in mine. Instead, I sat stiffly and reminded myself to blink and look as human as possible.

Mrs. Stackhouse offered a plate of sandwiches to Sookie's friend, who happily took one, and then to Jason, who piled several into his shirt, dropping crumbs onto the floor. When she held out the plate to me, I momentarily considered taking one just to be polite, but I didn't want to start out with any more deception. I held up my hand and shook my head.

"Of course. Of course…" she said, obviously embarrassed. "You don't…" She looked to Sookie, who smiled, and I smiled, and she shook her head as she set down the plate. "I'm sorry."

Mrs. Stackhouse settled next to me on the sofa, pushing me subtly towards Sookie. I felt the heat of her bare leg through my slacks as Jason defiantly shoved a whole sandwich into his mouth, glaring at me while he chewed as politely as a cow.

"Your people, Mr. Compton," Mrs. Stackhouse continued, "were from here, I believe?"

Her courtesy was comfortable and reassuring. I'd had the same conversation with Caroline's people the first time I called on her. Mrs. Stackhouse treated me no differently than any human man interested in Sookie; it was an old-fashioned politeness that was often overlooked.

"My father's people were Comptons, and my mother's people were Laudermilks."

"Oh, there are a lot of Laudermilks left," she said. I didn't explain that none were directly related to me anymore. "But I'm afraid old Mr. Jesse Compton died last year." Her tone implied sincere sadness at his loss, but I didn't know whether it was for my sake or hers.

"Yes ma'am," I nodded. "That's why I came back to Bon Temps. There were no living Comptons, so I've set up home in the old Compton place. And as I expect the VRA to pass…"

"I wouldn't be too sure about that, if I were you," Jason interrupted. He quickly swallowed his sandwich before adding, "Lots of Americans don't think you people deserve special rights."

A tense silence fell on the room, and I saw both Sookie and Mrs. Stackhouse look at Jason, as if willing him to behave. "They're the same rights you have," I finally said.

"I'm just saying there's a reason things are the way they are," he replied.

"Yeah." I leveled my eyes at him, and I thought of the way he allowed Sookie to endanger herself driving home alone so late at night while he pleasured himself with whores. My fangs pressed painfully against my gums. "It's called injustice."

"This is called this is how we do it."

"Jason," Gran sharply said. "This is my house. I will not tolerate rudeness." Jason huffed. "Did you know the Stackhouses, Mr. Compton?"

"Yes," I smiled politely, willing myself to remember my manners for the sake of Sookie's grandmother, who reminded me of my mother. "I remember Jonas Stackhouse. He and his wife moved here when Bon Temps was just a hole in the road. I was a young man of 16." Jason scowled as I continued. "Isn't this the house he built? At least in part?"

"Yes it was!" she said, looking around excitedly.

"Did you own slaves?" Tara asked.

"Tara!" Sookie said.

This rude young woman, who was just as enslaved by the powers that be as everyone else, wanted to hate me. Judging me for the institution of slavery would be like me blaming her for the tragic modern health care system, but she would never forgive me if I answered truthfully. I didn't want to focus on her, nor did I desire a philosophical discussion on the history of slavery and why mechanization would've naturally ended it without the trauma of the Civil War had the northern states left well enough alone.

I wasn't without compassion when I was a human, and I wasn't naïve, either; I knew some land-owners kept their horses better than their slaves. My family was better off than many of our neighbors, but we weren't wealthy. We worked along side our eight slaves, who were more like extended family members than servants.

"I did not," I said, which was technically true. As the only surviving son, my wife and I lived on my father's land and helped work it with the understanding that I would inherit one day. "But my father did." Tara huffed and glared at me. "A house slave, a middle-aged woman whose name I cannot recall." Rebecca's dark, kind eyes came to mind, and I blinked against a tear when I thought of the woman who loved me, who cared for me when I was sick and grieved for my brother and delivered my children. She stayed with my family during the war, and she lived with my wife until she died, just a few years before Caroline did. I hoped, where ever she was, that she would forgive me for betraying her memory. "And a yard slave," I pushed on, forcing myself to smile. "A young, strong man named Minus."

"This is the kind of thing my club will be so interested to hear about," Mrs. Stackhouse said.

"About slaves?" Tara said.

"Well," Mrs. Stackhouse uncomfortably replied. "About anything having to do with that time."

It was unpardonable, the way she and Jason were putting the old woman in a difficult position, and once again, a tense silence settled over the room.

"I look forward to speaking with your club, Mrs. Stackhouse," I lied. She beamed back at me, and I thought she must've looked very much like Sookie when she was younger.

"Now, if it's alright with you, I thought Sookie and I might take a walk." I stood up and leaned over the arm of the sofa, silently begging Sookie to agree. "It's such a lovely night."

"Well," Mrs. Stackhouse said, looking over at Sookie, who was staring at me. "It's alright with me, if it's alright with Sookie."

Jason slammed down his beer bottle and stood up. "I don't think that's a good idea."

"I don't think it's any of your business," Sookie tartly replied.

"She's right, Jason," Mrs. Stackhouse agreed.

"Gran, I'm the man of this family…" he began, but his grandmother stood up to face him and interrupted.

"You are a man in this family, but I am the oldest person here, and this is my house. You'd better respect me, boy."

"Actually," I said, leaning in to defuse the tension. "I'm the oldest person here." Mrs. Stackhouse blushed and laughed. She reached over and briefly placed a gentle hand on my arm. It was as unexpected as the night before and just as disorienting. "Shall we?" I said to Sookie, offering her my hand.

"We shall," she said, taking my hand in hers and flounced towards the door.

I nodded goodnight and thank you to Mrs. Stackhouse and glared at Jason, standing too close so he had to back up, before following Sookie out into the warm night.

"I went to the Rattrays' trailer," she said as we strolled down the drive. I'd expected her to ask about my blood, about her healing, or about our bond, not the fates of that common trash who intended to kill her.

"I told you I was strong."

"I don't believe I fully gauged the extent of your strength."

"Over the years, we become stronger," I explained. "And more skillful in hiding what we've done."

"You might want to remember next time, tornados hop," she said. "They don't just land in one place." I'd underestimated the police, and yet I couldn't stop from smiling because she worried for me. Despite my mistake, I didn't think anyone would be too sorry to see the end of those criminals. Time had taught me that, for the most part, life is cheap. "So, I guess you've killed a lot of people?" she asked.

"I killed a few by accident at first," I said, which wasn't technically untrue. "I was never sure when I'd get my next feed." I thought to those early days, when the hunger was painful, and the years of playing Lorena's bloody games. "But it's all different now: there's TruBlood." I saw the shifter in the bushes following us. He hunched low and sniffed the night air. When I glared at him, he growled at me. "I can get donor blood from a clinic in Monroe," I continued. "Or I can glamour someone into letting me feed on them for love, and then they'll forget all about it."

Sookie stopped walking and turned to me. "Did you feed on the Rattrays?"

"Yes," I said. I immediately felt her disgust. "After I'd given you my blood, while you were healing." For the first time since my turning, I wanted someone to understand. "You drank a lot of my blood."

"What will that do to me?"

"Well, you'll have keener senses," I said. Surely she'd noticed that already.

"What else?"

I paused and considered how I wanted to phrase this. "Your libido will be more active." She blushed and looked away.

"Is that it?"

"I'll always be able to feel you. I'll be able to find you fast. If you're ever in trouble, that could come in quite handy." I looked at her, and I carefully watched as she processed the information. I wanted to tell her that I'd never bonded with a human before. I wanted to hold her to me and tell how that because of her I'd been able to feel the sun.

"You're going to have to give me a minute here, Bill," she said before I could find my voice. "I'm feeling a little… overwhelmed."

"Of course," I said. We walked in silence for a few moments, but when we came to the little cemetery gate, I held it open for her and said, "It's new for me, too." She stopped and looked at me as if she didn't know whether or not to believe me.

"You said you could glamour someone into letting you bite them?" she finally asked as we continued to walk. "What is that? Hypnosis?"

"Kind-of. It's similar. All human are susceptible to it."

"Have you done it to me?"

"No," I quickly said, not wanting to tell her that I'd tried and I didn't think it worked. "And I never will."

"Really? Try."

"No," I said. I didn't want her to hate me for controlling her; I wanted to know what she honestly thought and felt. "I don't feel comfortable with that."

"Are you chicken?" she asked, daring me

I smiled and turned back to her. "Sookie?" I said, staring deeply into her eyes and forcing my mind into hers.

"Yes." She stepped closer to me, close enough to kiss or kill before her eyes could register that I'd moved.

"Can you feel my influence?" I wanted to touch her, and when she moved even closer, and I thought that she was doing it under my control. But then she burst into laughter.

"Nope. Sorry."

"Sookie, this is very strange." I worried what Andre would do when he realized she couldn't be easily controlled, and I wondered how long I could keep that information a secret.

"You don't like not being able to control people." She took my hand and led me further into the cemetery like she would a child. "That's not a very attractive trait, Bill."

"Humans are usually more squeamish about vampires than you are."

She stopped and leaned against a small railing. "Who am I to be squeamish about something out of the ordinary?" I felt such agonizing sadness through the bond. Such loneliness. I thought of the little girl in Hadley's photograph as Sookie looked off in the distance, and I knew her mind was somewhere else. "I was diagnosed with ADD," she finally said. "They tried to put me on drugs, but my mama wouldn't let them. She knew that wasn't it. She tried to protect me, even though I scared her."

"When did you lose her?" I asked.

"Just before I turned eight. Both my parents. Flash-flood." She walked away.

"I lost my wife and my children," I quietly said. "Everyone I knew from my human life. Most of them are buried here in this cemetery."

"You really don't consider yourself human at all?"

"I'm not human."

It was my turn to walk away, and I'd never hated myself more than I did in that moment. I held open the iron gate for her as we left the cemetery and entered my property.

"Can you turn into a bat?" she asked.

I almost laughed when I thought about her shifter admirer following us just out of sight. The lucky dog could have her. He could hold her all night and wake up to her in the morning. He could feed her and make love to her in the sunshine and have children, and she had no idea who he was.

"No," I said. "There are those who can change form, but I'm not one of them."

"Can you levitate?"

"No."

"Turn invisible?" she teased.

"Sorry." Telling her that I could remember everything sounded unimpressive, and not for the first time, I wished I had one of the more physical gifts, like flight.

"Bill," she laughed. "You don't seem like a very good vampire. What can you do?"

"I can bring you back to life," I said.

My house came into view as we walked through the trees. "This is where you live?" she asked.

"Since old Jesse Compton died with no living heirs, ownership reverts back to me."

"I thought that wasn't for sure until the VRA passes," she said.

"Well, I haven't been getting any trouble with the renovations I've been doing. Of course, I've been doing them myself, and at night. I need an electrician, but I can't get anyone to return my calls."

"Maybe if I made a few calls tomorrow I could stop by after work and tell you who to contact?" She shifted her weight onto one hip, and I couldn't help but smile at this girl who seemed completely unable to fail at anything.

"Thank you." Her little dress was so like the one in my dream. I wanted her hair to be like it was in the dream too. "Take your clip out," I asked. Her eyes were wide, and she never stopped looking at me as she did what I asked.

I stepped closer to her, and I could hear her erratic heart. "May I?" I asked. She nodded and held her breath.

Touching Sookie in the moonlight was even better than my best dream of her in the sun. I held the silken strands of hair between my fingers and inhaled. She threw back her head and offered me the soft skin of her neck. I saw her pulse, and I ran my nose against it, drinking in her scent. There was the delicious smell of her blood, but there was more. Because of the dream, I knew the scent I couldn't place before was the sun. My gums ached as I stepped away from her.

"I can smell the sunlight on your skin," I tried to explain.

For the first time since before I left for war, I felt like I could touch God again. I thought I'd shed everything that was human, but here was this girl who smelled of sunshine willingly standing before me. For the briefest of moments, I thought maybe I'd been turned just so I could save her life because she was entirely too good to be killed in a bar parking lot, and everything I'd lost was a small price to pay for my nose on her throbbing neck. I wanted, more than I'd ever wanted anything in my long life, to be hers.

Before I could do anything but ache for her, she stepped forward and pressed herself against me. Her hot hands pulled my head towards her, and she kissed me. I was so surprised it took a moment for me to kiss back, but then it was like I'd been waiting my whole life to kiss her. I'd never tasted anything so good, and I pressed into her as her fingers worked themselves through my hair. I wanted to rub myself over every inch of her skin. I wanted to bathe myself in her.

My tongue demanded entrance, and I willed my fangs to stay in place. She nuzzled against my face, trying to catch her breath, and I knew if I didn't do something, I wouldn't be able to stop. I wanted to bite her, to drink her, to pleasure her, and I would have to have her. All of her. Before I lost control, I abruptly stepped away, holding her still with my hand on her neck as my fangs slid down. "I…" I managed to gasp out. "I should see you home…"

She was frightened and confused, and I could feel her disappointment as strongly as my own. But she nodded. "Alright."

We walked in silence, at a comfortable human pace, back across my yard and through the cemetery. I concentrated on not breathing, and even still, my fangs didn't retract until we were half-way back to her house. It wasn't until I opened the far gate that I stopped.

"Miss Stackhouse," I began, embarrassed. "Please forgive me."

"Miss Stackhouse?" she quietly asked. "Back to that? Seems like a step in the wrong direction."

"Sookie," I willed my voice to caress her as I couldn't bring my hands to, taking her hand into my own. I heard her breath catch, and once again the delicious scent of her arousal filled my nostrils. "Sookie," I said again. "Is that better?"

She swallowed with difficulty and nodded.

"Please forgive me, Sookie. It's been… a long time…" my voice trailed off.

"Since what?" she asked.

"Since I did… this…" I waved my hand back and forth between us.

She laughed. "Well, I've never done it at all, so we're in big trouble." I couldn't help but smile at her gentle teasing. "We'll just have to make it up as we go along," she said. "The blind leading the blind?" By the time I'd walked her back to her door, I didn't want to ever leave. "Would you like to come in?" she asked as we lingered on the porch.

"Very much," I said. "But I'd better not."

She nodded. "They make TruBlood in different… flavors?" she said.

"Types."

She smiled. "Right. Types. Do they taste different?"

"They do."

She paused. "Is it like…" her voice trailed off.

"The real thing?" I finished. I smiled and shook my head. "Not at all."

She smiled. "But if I were to buy some, in case you came to call on me again…" she blushed and looked down at the ground, toeing the worn floor boards with her sandal.

"O Negative," I said. "I prefer O Negative."

"O Negative," she repeated. "Simple enough to remember."

I pulled a business card out of my pocket and pressed it into her hands. "My number," I said. "Please call me. Anytime."

"Do you want me to grab a pen for mine?" she asked.

"I'll remember," I said with a smile, knowing that even without my gift of recollection, I wouldn't forget her phone number.

"Can Gran call you about her meeting? I'm sure she's been on the phone since we left. She wants you to speak right away."

"Of course," I said. "If she calls before dark, please tell her I check messages as soon as I rise."

"I guess I'll see you tomorrow night after work, then," she reluctantly said.

I squeezed her hands gently before leaning in and kissing her cheek. "I look forward to it," I said.

By the time I returned from the 24-hour store in Monroe and dropped my purchases in the empty kitchen, there were only a couple hours before dawn.

It'd been presumptuous of me to purchase things for Sookie when I was at the store, but I found myself contentedly wandering the aisles, selecting things I thought she'd enjoy. I usually loathed going to the store, but thinking about her made it a pleasant chore as I put snacks into my basket next to TruBloods: dried fruit and nuts, crackers, little cans of juice and bottles of water. I bought a case of soda because the bright blue packaging with the orange circle looked like the sky in my dream. I chose several packages of chocolate, bottled coffee drinks, and granola bars. It was easy enough to walk down the soap aisle and smell which brand she used. I found her shampoo and deodorant the same way. I had to guess with the shaving supplies. I did the same when I selected a toothbrush, toothpaste, dental floss, and Listerine. On impulse, I included a bottle of vitamin supplements blended for humans with vampire companions and quickly decided to not think too much about it.

All was quiet at Sookie's house as I silently picked the lock on the back door and found myself standing in the kitchen. Normally I found the smell of food nauseating, but even with the hint of garlic irritating my throat, this room was comfortable. I ran my hand lightly over the table, and I imagined sitting there with a TruBlood while Sookie and her grandmother ate, the three of us laughing and teasing.

I stealthily crept up the stairs, enjoying the photos that lined the walls. Mrs. Stackhouse obviously loved her family, and there were several generations of Stackhouses on display. I saw pictures of a younger Hadley, and a woman who could only be Hadley's mother. I saw Jason and Sookie with their parents and Mrs. Stackhouse with her husband.

It was easy enough to smell which room was Sookie's once I was on the second floor, and I eased open her door. The cat turned its head to glare at me, but Sookie slept soundly, her hair fanned out on the pillow.

I forced myself to just look at her from the doorway, to breath in the saturated air of her room and listen to her even breaths. She moaned softly and turned in her sleep, and I wanted to crawl into bed and hold her in my arms while she slept. Instead, I watched over her until the last possible moment I could stay, knowing that all I had at home was a dark and empty hole.