My take on the little scene between Sookie and Eric in the first episode of season three. One shot.

He'd been at it for hours and, no matter what he did, he just wasn't enjoying this. His fangs weren't even extended. Yvetta was exhausted and she hung limply from the rope that bound her. He had brought her her release numerous times but whatever he did his evaded him. He was beginning to feel bored.

This just wasn't right. Yvetta was a fine specimen, pleasing to look at and full bodied in taste. Why wasn't she enough? Why could she not satisfy him?

His thrusts got heavier, pounding into her ever faster as his frustration grew. He thought her heart might just sputter out and stop altogether.

Then he felt it. Finally his passion flared bright as he could sense who had just entered the bar. Sookie Stackhouse. Yetta began screaming but he didn't hear her, he concentrated on Sookie, on the fire.

He heard Pam's voice then, "Sookie, stop. Don't. Come back." She deadpanned.

He heard the click of heels descending the stone steps quickly, a small gasp and then nothing as she stopped dead in her tracks.

"Holy S." she whispered to herself and Eric found it strangely endearing that she avoided swearing.

"Sookie," he purred, smiling for the first time all night, "See anything you like?"

"I do." Pam answered and he turned to see his child's eyes taking in the sight of his worn out new toy.

"I take it Sookie couldn't be stopped?" he asked, voice his usual monotone. He didn't mind the interruption one bit.

"What can I say? She overpowered me."

Pam. She was sarcastic and lazy and insubordinate. But she was also loyal and trustworthy and Eric was strangely attached to her. She was his favourite.

"Off you go, Pam." He ordered softly.

"Fine." She almost sulked and she gave one last look to Yvetta before leaving.

Perhaps he would let Pam have her for a while. His interest in the new dancer was already waning.

He turned to Sookie then and took her in. He liked her hair down, in golden curls that moved freely and tossed about her head when she yelled, but even with it up the way it was she still would've taken his breath away, had he been alive.

"Sookie," he smiled and the way he said her name did things to her body that she didn't want it to do. His voice was playful, almost cute, a little higher pitched than usual, "meet my new dancer, Yvetta, from Estonia. Yvetta, meet Sookie, from here."

When her name passed his lips the second time, a soft heat ran through her, flooding her feminine channel.

The dancer sighed something in her home language and Sookie took it as a greeting.

"Hi." She said, looking anywhere but at Eric and the woman.

"Don't go anywhere." Eric said to his dancer in Estonian.

He padded up to Sookie slowly, his eyes taking in every inch of her, feeling her discomfort and embarrassment, her worry and anger, and her lust, barely readable under the other emotions but still there.

"So, what brings you to Fangtasia on this balmy Summer night?" He enjoyed showing himself off to her, for he knew he was well built and certainly well endowed.

"Bill's been kidnapped and I think you did it." She snapped, keeping her eyes on his.

"I didn't." he countered, "Any other theories?"

"I'm still on this one thank you very much. Where were you tonight around eleven o'clock?" Her eyes kept wanting to look down but she fought the urge, knowing she would like what she saw and knowing he would feel it. She focussed on his eyes and hated herself for noticing that they were a beautiful blue-green.

"Here. With Yvetta." He made it sound as though he wasn't showing off, merely stating a fact.

"Doing this?" She said disbelievingly, "For the last six hours?"

"You sound surprised." He smiled smugly, "Is Bill's stamina not up to snuff?" He teased. He loved conversing with this human much more than he should.

"Tell me where I can find Lorena. If you don't have him, she does."

The way she changed the subject pleased him, it was obvious Bill could never do the things Eric did. Eric had been around centuries longer than him and even if he hadn't, he still would've bested him. He spent a large part of his human life 'honing his skills' so to speak. And yet he was disappointed at the same time. He liked arguing with Sookie, liked the fire he stirred inside her.

"A solid theory." He agreed, "But given the tenor of your last run-in with Miss Krasiki I think it's better if I dealt with her instead."

Sookie was determined. She might actually find Lorena and he was not having her confront the vampire, especially alone. Lorena was clearly unhinged, and she clearly did not like Sookie one bit. Sookie would probably end up very dead, probably very painfully. That shouldn't bother Eric, but it did. He wanted to keep her safe, more than anything, more than he wanted to touch her, more than her wanted to keep her. He could not allow her to be harmed.

"How do I know you will?" She eyed him suspiciously.

"Because if Bill was, in fact, kidnapped - by human or vampire - I am duty bound, as sheriff of the area in which he resides, to find him." His eyes moved down her body, the sight of her exciting him further, "Even if I do want what is his." He felt something strange in his gut when the words left him. Sadness? He couldn't remember.

His voice, his words, the look in his eyes, the desire he had for her, it made the heat inside her grow powerfully. She had to get away from him. She struggled to find her voice for a second or two.

"Then do it." She finally managed to say, feeling flustered, needing to escape. She began almost running up the steps when a thought occurred to her, "By the way, you owe me ten thousand dollars."

He watched her every movement, watched her flee, felt her desire building as her thighs moved against each other. He couldn't tear his eyes away until she was finally out of the door.

Her scent filled the room, teasing his nostrils. He could almost taste her. His fangs shot out with a small click.

In a blur of motion he was across the room and against Yvetta. He needed to ease this frustration. He took her legs in his hands and entered her quickly, making her gasp out his name.

"Do not speak." He commanded in her language, and she obeyed as he carried on, in and out, grabbing a handful of her hair and pulling her head to the side.

He imagined golden curls between his fingers, tan skin against his own pale white, the smell of sunshine and flowers and life. He sunk his teeth deep into the dancer's neck, making her scream with pleasure as he shook with his own, final, sweet relief.

He untied her hands and let her fall to the floor before swiftly putting on his jeans and leaving without another word or a glance in her direction.

Is this what I am reduced to? Fantasies? Despicable. I can't even enjoy a good woman anymore. What has she done to me?

This all stemmed from the fact that there Eric was, going all out with Yvetta, and his fangs weren't even out. He didn't look like he was enjoying himself at all!