"It felt like every single care or worry or sadness I ever had was just flowing out of me, into him," Sookie explains to Lafayette. "And yeah, that hurt at first. But then when I relaxed, didn't hurt at all." He admits he is impressed. "I was always too scared to let 'em bite me..." He gets serious and looks into her eyes, leveling. "I don't know, Sook. I just think that when there's blood involved, a line been crossed." Crossed, recrossed, redrawn into a free nation of one. Just like Heaven. "Oh, I definitely crossed a line... But I'm glad I did!" she wiggles cutely, daring herself to play Lafayette's games, the hip and the look. "Well, you go ahead on cooking with your bad ass. Good for you. It ain't possible to live unless you're crossing somebody's line," he says. She giggles and runs off, as Sam stares sullen and sad, and Lafayette smiles to himself. "Skank."
A girl wearing a Fangatasia!-brand t-shirt approaches Eric, who's busily texting or something. She's terrified. Long Shadow is behind her and she doesn't even know it. Eric gives her leave to take a picture, and Long Shadow immediately confiscates and smashes her phone. "No pictures." She's confused, that's not fair. "I did not say you could keep it," he smiles, and Long Shadow laughs. This is what fate does to you: says "take a picture" and smashes your camera. They're leviathans. Jason watches the go-go dancers, remarking on the boy one's moves. "Can I get you another?" Long Shadow asks, and he starts to get himself into trouble. A girl in a soft, long hippie dress with a scarf around her forehead, Amy Burley, recognizes the trouble immediately, and takes a position nearby in case he goes too far.
"Not Tru-Blood, but really strong. You know what I'm sayin'?" Long Shadow better not. "We've got Kentucky straight bourbon whiskey. Hundred proof. It'll turn the lining right off your stomach." Not really. "Somethin' stronger than that?" Amy rolls her eyes. "But you know, a different color?" Pissy Long Shadow is so much funnier and more appealing than any other kind: "Just tell me what the fuck you want, little boy." He's down to asking for "something closer to the color of the walls in here" when she finally drags him away from the bar. He's sweating, she can tell what it is, but he says the word again: "V." She tries to shut him up, he's not getting it, she finally whispers, grabbing his face: "Listen, they can hear really well, alright? So let's talk about it later. Let's get out of here before you get us both killed." Have you met Jason Stackhouse? Getting it is not in his wheelhouse: "I ain't going nowhere until I get what I came for." She taps her purse, amazed at how dumb his stubbornness and hunger have made him.