A/N: Let me apologize right now. I am such a twisted puppy. This story was inspired—yet again—by the hysterical banter engaged in by the wonderful participants on Tangler's Sookie Stackhouse Series Forum. Yes. We were debating the tissues visible on Alcide's bed in the scene teasers from Season 3. Yes! The conversation went there.

Disclaimer: Characters the property of Charlaine Harris. Alan Ball gets credit for the tissues.

Alcide Herveaux let out a deep sigh. He was really growing tired of his arrangement with Eric Northman. Since Alcide's father had borrowed money from the vampire, the Herveaux family had no choice but to comply with Northman's demands. Whenever Northman called with a request—no matter what it was—Alcide was obliged to do his bidding.

Eric, despising Alcide for some unknown infraction, had delighted in devising a rather ludicrous way for the debt to be paid off. As for why Northman hated Alcide so much, the werewolf could not even begin to guess.

It couldn't be just for the fact I hate him with all my heart, could it? Alcide wondered.

In any case, by complying with Northman's wishes, Alcide was paying off his father's $100,000 debt at a rate of $100 a week. At the rate they were going, this 'arrangement' would continue for many many years.

Fuck, Alcide thought.

Alcide, standing in the doorway, looked around his guest bedroom. He glanced at the clock. Nearly 7pm.

It won't be long now, he thought.

Sure enough, from outside the second story window, he heard a whoosh.

Here he is, Alcide thought.

Alcide opened the window.

"Eric." Alcide snarled.

"Were." Eric greeted him, his tone slightly jovial.

Eric, levitating outside the window, landed on the ledge. Peering inside at Alcide, Eric quirked an eyebrow.

"Wont you please come in, Eric?"

"Yes, I believe I shall, Were."

Eric entered through the window and half-smiled, half-sneered at Alcide. Really, this weekly game of humiliation was childish-as Eric was 1,000 years old, he fully appreciated that fact. But, it appealed to his sense of fun. Besides, the were so deserved it.

Honestly, Eric hated the were. Eric felt that Herveaux's overwhelming sense of righteous self-importance was perhaps only surpassed by that of the fool, Bill Compton.

While Eric was forced to await opportunities to put Bill in his place, he had no such need when it came to Alcide. Thanks to the were senior's insatiable gambling obsession and unfailing ability to back the loser, Eric was able to dole out humiliation to the son on a regular basis.

"My tissues, Were?"

Alcide bent down and grabbed a box of Kleenex from inside the nightstand.

"Here," he grumbled.

"Thank you. I do prefer the aloe, as I mentioned?"

"Yes, Eric. I remember. Target was out. I'll have them next week."

"Thank you."

Alcide hesitated, continuing to stand in his guest bedroom.

"Yes?" Eric asked. Perhaps the were would like to observe and learn?


Starting to walk out of the room, Alcide hesitated and stopped in his tracks. Reconsidering, the were decided to say something after all.


"Yes, Were?"

"Do you think you'll get tired of this at some point?"

Eric turned to face Alcide. He considered the question.

The were is asking me if he believes I will tire of coming to his apartment once a week? Tire of pleasuring myself in his bed? Tire of spoiling his sheets? Tire of leaving my soiled tissues for him to clean up?

"All things considered, Were, I would say not. This arrangement of ours gives me much satisfaction. At my age it is not easy finding activities so consistently amusing. Besides, it is helpful to you. For your financial situation. And, although I may not like you myself, Sookie regards you as a friend. So, our agreement is quite beneficial, Were. A win-win as it were." Eric smiled.

Alcide closed his eyes. Eric was really not going to give up on this. Alcide sighed.

"Fine. How long?"

"Hm. About an hour, I would say."

"Fine." Alcide turned on his heel and left the room.

An hour later, Alcide knocked on the door. Hearing nothing he opened the door.

Sure enough, the room was empty, the window open. Eric had let himself out.

Alcide strode into the room and shut the window. As he did every week, as he shut it he said, "Eric Northman, I rescind your invitation."

Glancing at the bed he saw a mountain of soiled tissues. The bed sheets were a mess. He shook his head. Putting on a pair of latex gloves he grabbed from inside the nightstand, he managed to guide the tissues into a wastepaper basket with minimal hands-on contact. He smiled grimly at his joke.

Alcide then gathered the sheets from the bed and dumped them in the laundry basket. Picking up the basket, he started to leave the room with it. At the doorway, he paused and turned his gaze back into the room.

That prick is really the ultimate in high-handed. Poor Sookie. She has no idea. Too bad things didn't work out for us. She hasn't a clue what Northman is all about... Alcide thought.

Eric, back at Fangtasia, picked up his cell phone on the first ring.

"Is this my lover?"

"It is. Did you go to Alcide's?"

"I did. Is this the part where you lecture me that I am too old to be carrying on in this fashion?"

"No, even if I forgave him for abandoning me when I got staked in Jackson, or dragging me into his were shit a million times since, I'm still really pissed about the whole 'shaman' bullshit. You can go ahead and keep at it. Just-" she left off, not finishing her words.

"Yes, my lover?"

"I just don't want you to enjoy yourself too much when you go over there. I was hoping to see you tonight."

"See me, you shall, my wife. All of me."

Sookie closed her eyes and bit her lower lip.

"Hm. Eric?"

"Yes, my lover?"

"You won't need any tissues."

A/N: Like Eric's scheme for humiliating Alcide? LOL. As I said on Tangler: Now, THAT is HIGH-HANDED. I am sorry. Sometimes, I just can't help myself. I hope this doesn't affect how you any of you respond to the word 'tissues.' Or 'aloe.'