Who: Sookie Stackhouse and Bill Compton When: Directedly after his close encounter of the Eric kind Where: Hotel library What: Sookie and Bill stuff Status/rating Incomplete/tbd (seriously, it's a library, how steamy can it get?)
Into the ward of the clean white-washed halls, Where the dead slept and the dying lay; Wounded by bayonets, sabres and balls, Somebody's darling was borne one day. Somebody's darling so young and so brave, Wearing still on his sweet yet pale face Soon to be hid in the dust of the grave, The lingering light of his boyhood's grace.
Somebody's darling, somebody's pride, Who'll tell his Mother where her boy
Bill was more than a little annoyed when he left the presence of the sheriff of area 5, but he managed to conceal his irritation in his own inimitable style. Eric was Eric, after all, and there wasn't much more to be said on that score. Besides, he more pleasant subjects for his consideration, namely meeting Sookie and being with her. Regardless of Eric and his insinuations, Bill knew that Sookie was completely trustworthy, and feared nothing from Eric's quarters.
Bill was not the type to fly off the handle, either, having learned to curb his temper a long time before. When the need arose, he could be passionately angry, but that time was not now. From what he could see of this place ever since his arrival, there was no danger to Sookie, or himself. Although he sometimes wondered how the Queen was faring without her best and strongest sheriff, and without Bill's own inimitable and invaluable services. He was still working on his computer program, but only time would tell if he would be able to present it to her majesty, Queen Sophie-Anne Leclerc herself.
He reached the library quickly. At this time of night, it was virtually deserted. He loved the night, for obvious reasons, but mostly because here, at this place, night time did not mean having to share his Sookie with Merlotte's. Here she did not have to work, and here they were on an equal footing, in a financial sort of way, so she did not have to feel beholden to him, and all was good in that regard. He quickly spotted her, sitting at a table, waiting for his arrival, and his heart leapt in his breast (hush, don't be so literal) when he saw her.
He stood for a moment, watching her. She had a book in her hands, but somehow he didn't think she was reading it, her thoughts seeming to be elsewhere. Perhaps on him, he dared to hope. A small smile flitted about his lips. Moving quickly, but not so as to draw attention to himself, not that anyone was paying attention, he came up behind her, brushing his lips lightly over her hair.
"Sookie," he said softly, expressing so much in that one little word.