A/N Okay, y'all asked for it, and here it is. As I said at the end of the last chapter, I was going to force you to use your imaginations and fill in the blanks, (is it really that hard, guys? I thought it was pretty clear what was going to happen), when svmfan1 made an excellent point, and said that Sookie simply couldn't be trusted to do the right thing, and folks needed me to put it in black and white. All kidding aside, I cannot argue with the beauty and truth of that logic.

Wanda W. beat it to get this to you, I can't forget to thank her. And nyc, just so you know, Berta will always belong to you.

Satisfaction has been my goal since the beginning, even above and beyond artistic concerns. So, voila! As requested! I must admit, I enjoyed expounding upon that last scene, myself. See you at the bottom of the page … misscyn


I felt the ground shake slightly as Eric landed. He caught me up in his arms and sobbing, I threw my arms around his neck and pressed myself into his chest.

"I wasn't running," I choked out hurriedly. "I just wanted to get to the fence and wait for you—,"

"Shh, lover, hush," he soothed into my hair. "I know you weren't running. Calm down."

I sniffed inelegantly and wiped my mascara and tears on the backs of my hands. He cocked an eyebrow and held out his sleeve. I smiled shakily, wiped off my face and leaned into his chest again.

He tilted my head back up with one hand. "And what had you so upset?"

I shrugged helplessly. "I wanted to talk to you but my dress and makeup were ruined and you're already going to get crappy assignments from Felipe, and I couldn't make you look bad by going in there looking like a nut," I gulped a little on the tears. "And I got all these crazy pictures in my head of my life and people in my family, and then I saw Guinevere and thought of that picture you sent me, and I just wanted to get down here and think about us away from all," I waved my hand around the property, "this."

"You're babbling," he said.

I hung my head. "I know."

"There's a better way to get close to me," he pressed my body against the fencepost, and I gasped as his mouth swooped down on mine. He grabbed me by my ass and lifted me up. I grasped his hips with my knees, and pulled the hard length of his body against mine. He kissed me for all I was worth, and all he was worth, and then some. He alternated between torturously slow and impatiently aggressive, soft, then hard, and I found myself wrapping my arms around the wire on either side of the posts, remembering ...

I began to feel decidedly lightheaded, and he pulled back for a second, but I grabbed him by the collar and pulled him back in.

I felt a nudge against my bottom, above his hands, and ignored it. Another, and I wondered what it was, but I sure wasn't going to stop kissing Eric long enough to find out.

Suddenly that cold, wet nose brushed against my naked arm and I jumped, right before Guinevere bellowed in my ear with all her might.

"Jesus Christ," I yelped, jumping forward and nearly knocking Eric off balance. Guinevere continued to caterwaul.

"Ignore her," Eric said, nuzzling my neck and pushing me back against the post. He rained kisses down my jaw line and captured my lips again.

Guinevere started carrying on even louder, snorting and shuffling her hooves.

I smiled into Eric's lips in spite of myself. The giggles bubbled up inside, and soon I had to break away. I looked up apologetically and saw his lips twitch a bit before we were both laughing out loud.

"What the hell is her problem?" he murmured after a minute, hugging my body close to his as he shamelessly trailed his hands up and down the sides of my breasts. I shivered, despite the heat and humidity.

"I think it's cow speak for 'Get you asses off my fencepost and get a freaking room.'" I drew in closer to him, away from the demented bovine bent on tormenting us.

He chuckled lightly.

"So what did you want to tell me?"

"Just," I took a deep breath, "Just yes."


I nodded.

"To what?"

"To all of it."

His eyes lit up and burned with a new intensity. I caught my breath at the beauty and strength of his gaze.

He pressed his forehead against mine, my dampness transferring to his skin. "Pigs in mud?" he asked then, just a touch of hopefulness lacing that dark, rich voice, and my insides melted all at once.

"That's pretty much the way I see it," I smiled, my own voice husky at this point.

He laughed and lifted me by the waist, twirling me in a joyous circle.

A wailing siren blared at us in appreciation as Bon Temps' only fire truck careened down the road toward the highway, all lights flashing. Eric spun me away just as it passed and I caught a glimpse of long, pale blonde hair blowing in the breeze out the driver's side window, accompanied by a happy flash of fang.

"I did not just see that," I proclaimed, my hands over my eyes. Eric chuckled again and set me down.

"Are you ready to go home?"

"Yes," I wiped my nose and smiled through my wet lashes. He took my other hand and we started down Hummingbird Lane.

Eric looked down and lifted an eyebrow at me. "Aren't you going to ask me which home we're going to?"

"Doesn't matter," I yawned, swinging his hand widely in mine. "Wherever you're going to be is where home is."

He flashed another smile and lifted me by the waist, tossing me onto his back in a deft motion. Startled momentarily, I locked my hands around his neck and my legs around his waist.

"All righty, then," he said with a smirk, and with that we took off up into the night sky.


A few weeks later, my job with the Weres did indeed end, and I found myself with some time on my hands. I decided that before I started my business, and before Eric showed me more of the supernatural world, I'd like to see Europe first. We set aside several weeks for travel and started in England, but gradually drifted north. We ended up in Norway, in a town called Tonsberg, very near where Eric was born and lived his entire human life.

Seeing him there nearly made my heart burst. I hadn't really thought that much about it, but until they came out, vampires led very constrained lives; I suppose it had always pained me to think of my vampire being limited in any way. Overseas travel being extremely difficult, Eric had not been to his homeland in literally hundreds of years, and it was like watching him with the carrots in the garden all night long the first few days we spent there.

On the third night of our visit we found ourselves in a pub, frequented by vampires and humans alike, situated just a few feet from the Tonsberg fjord. We talked and chatted and eventually found that someone knew a local priest who would do the paperwork and come out for beer, and thirty minutes later, standing on a rock facing the water, I married Eric Northman, surrounded by his countrymen, both human and undead. Although the view of the water was beyond breathtaking, my ears and hands were freezing, the wind was blowing icy salt water in my face, and it would have been a completely miserable experience except for the fact that I had never seen Eric look so happy or content. He couldn't wipe the smile off his face, and that was worth more to me than all the white dresses and bridesmaids in the world.

As a wedding present I promised him we would take a sabbatical to his homeland every year for a month or so (perhaps during the Polar Nights) if we could manage it, and you would have thought I lassoed the moon and gave it to him to keep. He immediately set about buying a place there for us. I hadn't seen him act that childlike since Dracula Night. Hell, it chokes me up now just to think about it. Sometimes I think I'm becoming addicted to seeing that man happy, and I better watch it before I spoil him, but damn if he doesn't deserve it.

Of course, when we returned to Louisiana, both Felipe and Pam were highly peeved even though we swore we never meant to elope. Felipe threw us a world-class reception in New Orleans, renting out half the French Quarter for the vampires who traveled from all four corners of the Earth. I did get to wear a fancy dress and dance with my husband and take photos, so it was a good thing. The revelry became so boisterous and over the top that it blew out the electrical transformers up and down Bourbon Street, and the event made national news. I have the newspaper cuttings to prove it.

It's been nearly a year now since the fateful night of Octavia and Wizno's wedding. My business does well. I would not have been able to do it without Eric or his plan, and I realize that. He helped me a great deal from the start and still does. I make a lot of money from supes and especially from Beau Sinclair. Boy, do people lie in the oil industry. He and Amelia have something going on, and I'm pretty sure it's for real, although she gets pink in the face when I ask. I think the girl may have met her match in that part-demon billionaire.

I've met a couple of new kinds of magical creatures, too, although I'm far from working down that list. Forget those Travelocity commercials. Gnomes are annoying little jackasses who think mortals should work for free, and that's all I have to say about that.

Speaking of which, there were no magical underwater creatures on Octavia's honeymoon, only a bunch of overfed manatees. Eric guffawed so loudly while Wizno regaled him with the look on Octavia's face when she saw the manatees were not actually mermaids, I thought they were going to high-five each other there for a minute. Real comedians, those two.

After a disastrous three months of public school kindergarten, Hunter now home schools with the brownies. He is smart, and will be an extremely talented telepath. I am very involved in his life and education. Andrea and Remy are a full-on couple now, and both seem highly committed to Hunter's future as well. Eric, of all people, supplements the history lessons, but really, who would be better?

Joe Montgomery retired to Florida, and we bought his property. We're going to build a house as soon as we can agree on house plans. Right now it's Monday through Thursday at the condo, Friday through Sunday in Bon Temps, but we always stay together.

It's not been a quiet year. I travel a lot, and sometimes, with no notice. Eric's hauled me around the country in that helicopter more than a few times, and once or twice I've flown to last-minute jobs on his back. Eric says being the owner of a bar in a strip mall is not the only thing he wants to do, and he's taken less hours at the bar to help me. He's still sheriff and heavily involved in vamp affairs, and Felipe relies on him more and more; so he's a busy vampire, still manipulating and maneuvering, but he likes it that way.

There have been some skirmishes, too, but, as always, we fought side by side and survived. We have been lucky, and yes, we are aware that our luck could change.

Jason plans to live in Gran's house when we build ours, and Remy and Andrea will rent his house, so Hunter can be closer to family. Yes, we are grandfathering Guinevere in, much to Wizno's delight.

I don't run, literally or figuratively, anymore.

The goats had babies this spring and Hunter loves them. Berta had a fry of fish babies, and suffice it to say, they were not blue. In some type of aquatic retribution, the tang ate half the young before we realized what was going on. Berta harbors no ill will and still stares longingly after him in his isolation tank. We plan to get him his own mate, soon.

Eric has to remind me periodically that fish, for the most part, are not people.

I got Eric a dog, a rescued harlequin Great Dane. Eric named him Starkad after some Icelandic hero, and he is as big as a horse. Eric wasn't that keen on the dog until he attacked some errant drunken FOS members outside Fangtasia and chased them for nearly three blocks one night, but ever since then he calls him 'the fierce warrior' and takes him to work with him all the time. They look right funny riding in the Corvette together, let me tell you.

That dog is so big it nearly kills me to deal with him and he barely fits in the condo to sleep. But when I stand at the kitchen window and watch Eric and Hunter and that horse of a dog strolling down Hummingbird Lane in the moonlight, Eric gesturing in the air as he explains some ancient epic battle to Hunter, I know I did the right thing when I got him.

Minnie became critically ill with the flu, of all things, this past winter. On her self-proclaimed deathbed, she called every single soul she had ever had a problem with and told them exactly how she felt about them. She speed dialed every son of a bitch, floozy, nosy old bat, trifling fool, and chronic malcontent in Renard parish, and laid into each one, hard, with some pointed home truths. Minnie ended each conversation with 'I'm dying, so there's not shit you can do about it, asshole,' right before she hung up. At that point, extremely satisfied with herself, she informed us all that she was fully prepared to meet the grim reaper.

Who, apparently, had something better to do.

Two days later, she began a miraculous recovery. Needless to say, she's been laying a little low on Bingo Night here lately. She still works for Felipe, and every once and a while for me. She and Niall are still doing whatever it is that they do, so that's something, anyway.

So when the house is built we will have a type of village, although Eric calls it a compound, here in our little corner of the world. After we decided to stay here and build he met with the town elders and showed them how to save tons of money with the water authority and other stuff, and now the mayor and all the other politicos love him to death and ask him advice (during after-hours, secretive meetings of course) on a regular basis. So vampires are really welcome in Bon Temps right now. Of course, some rednecks and backward thinkers will always muddy the water. People vote with their wallets, however, and Eric and the other vamps are improving the area, the schools, etc. I have great hope for Bon Temps.

Fintan, Madelyn, Minnie, Niall and Andrea come over twice a month on Sundays for dinner. Sometimes Eric slaps on a fairy cuff and talks to us after he rises for the night, but the telepathy annoys him as much as the fae blood, I think. He and the guys hang out down at Jason's some. Which is good for Jason, who may just be growing up. He's held a good job for a year now and has a nice Were girlfriend. Wizno and Octavia often join us. Sometimes Catherine and Bill come too, and Bill swears they are just friends, but I notice she stays over about three nights a week, so you figure it out.

Pam broke up with Lance and went back to girls for a while, but it looks like they are talking again. I've never really figured out their relationship, but I do know that Pam was miserable while they were apart, although she will never admit it.

I know Eric will not always be content with such a small-town life; and after I turn, things will speed up for us, not slow down. For now, he's said he doesn't mind living this way for a few years so I can be human with my family and Hunter, for which I will be, literally, eternally grateful.

As far as turning, I'm keeping it as a kind of unlife insurance policy for now. I really don't see it happening before Hunter graduates high school, to be honest. Andrea and Remy both work, and he needs me during the day too much. I'm thinking somewhere around forty to forty-five, as long as I am in good health. Eric said he's fine with that age, and somewhat teasingly commented that perhaps I will be 'fully matured' by then. I let it go, but he will eventually pay for that comment, I assure you.

The world hasn't changed that much yet, but I do have the feeling we are standing on the very cusp of great change. I have accepted that it will one day happen, and believe it or not, I look forward to it. It will be a different life, another kind of life; but I will be with Eric, and I know he will make it all good. He gives me hints and visions every once and a while about what's in store, and I am transported forward in time ...

In case of catastrophe, we do have all the cryo-banked Andromeda blood, which makes me breathe a little easier. Funny thing though, when Minnie and Catherine stopped taking the Andromeda blood, they did not age any more rapidly than normal. It appears that the DNA is permanently altered. Bill thinks I could just turn back time a few years with the A blood, and then have a vampire I trust change me at that point. I don't know about all that, I want to see some other folks do it first. I don't want to turn into a science project, and I'm just not that sure about messing with Mother Nature. As Eric says, she can be a persnickety bitch.

I finally told Eric if I was ever mortally wounded, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that I give him permission to turn me. That seemed to mean just as much to him as anything. I really hadn't realized how much he agonized over me getting killed in some silly supe skirmish, but apparently it was a big burden on his psyche.

I wish I had given him that permission a long time ago.

He did, however, inform me quite pompously that had I been so wounded before I gave him permission, he probably would have turned me against my wishes, anyway, and dealt with the consequences as best he could, even though it would have pained him greatly. Smug bastard.

My smug bastard.

I don't know what else to tell you. We still fight sometimes, but we don't take it so seriously anymore, and we always know we're going to make up. I let him get away with being the big badass Viking vampire he is, and he cuts me some slack for being, well, for being who I am, warts and all. There may be serious and stern words heard at my house from time to time, but there's a whole lot more laughter. I may not have found uncomplicated love, but I have definitely found love, and plenty of it.

We are happy.

Just like two freaking pigs in mud.


And there you have it, cracker crunchers. I will be writing a few outtakes in the next several months, the Lestat in New Orleans one we talked about, plus I'm thinking I may do one on their trip to Norway, just because Eric is so fun to write when he's being all boyish and tender. Who can ever get enough of the badass Viking vampire with a heart of gold? If you put me on author alert, then you won't miss them, I don't think.

But for now, I am on to another project, and my cohort Sonjita is impatiently tapping her foot as I speak. She's ahead of me, and I better get busy. We may introduce a taste tester in the Twilight fandom in the near future, I will let you know.

I'm going to go out on a limb here and ask anyone who may be an English aficionado, if there's some mistake I repeatedly make in my writing and it is driving you crazy, please pm me and let me know. I would like to improve, and the thought that someone knows I'm doing something wrong and won't tell me is a little depressing. Of course, if I'm doing something way right, let me know that too (yes, misscyn still loves to hear your comments, after all this time).

The sookieverse blog is a cool place to hang out, be sure to go there! Meads, our resident goddess, runs that place, so you know it's uber cool ….


All right, crunchers, I best go before I get choked up. I love all y'all, you know that. Don't be a stranger, you hear? As always, take care, misscyn

4/7 I have completed the first outtake of the chase through New Orleans for the bidders of Support Stacie, click on my profile and look under 'my stories' and you will see it!

6/6 I have a request. If you are a new reader and enjoyed this story, please let me know!

6/21/10 Welcome, newcomers, to my little corner of the SVM Universe. I appreciate you being here. I do have one thing to say to any less than honest visitors: Please do not steal my ideas, concepts, etc. I found it slightly amusing at first, and there is such a thing as coincidence.

But enough is enough. You wouldn't like it if someone did it to you.

I don't want to have to take this story down, so please.

If you need some ideas, pm me and offer to pay me. I'll be glad to help you, and I work cheap.