"That ain't true. And you shouldn't talk about Sarah that way!" Jason yells, which Luke just uses against him: "You work fast!" He swears this time he isn't working, and packs his stuff as quickly as possible, mortified and terrified and turned on and self-hating as usual. "She ain't like that. I earned this!" Luke assures him that, either way, he most certainly did.

The desk agent at the Hotel Carmilla (nice) says the computer has Bill and Sookie down for one room, no bed. Bill of course immediately starts seething, but Sookie -- because she grew up with Jason, and knows that only Bill's well I never pearl-clutching invokes such powerfully nasty playfulness from Eric -- grins and lets it slide: "Nooo, we need a bed." The woman hooks them up with a "light-lockable," "double-soundproofed" king suite, and Bill asks for an adjoining room for his... What to call Jessica? The vampire word, he tells Sookie, is "progeny," which isn't true either. "Call her your ward!" Sookie exclaims. "You have a ward, like Bruce Wayne!" Who turns, of course, into a bat every night.

Over in the lobby, Jessica sits with a still very addled Leon. "Would you give me your cell phone?" He hands it over and she bounces in teenage ecstasy on the opulent leather couch. "Thank you, Leon. Everything's okay!" He nods, and she reconsiders. "Actually, everything's not okay. All your worst fears are about to come true..." He shudders and begs. "Unless you scream at the top of your lungs..." She whispers into his ear.

Over Bill's confirmation that Mr. Northman is paying their bills, Leon screams from the lobby, "Becky Eubanks is a stuck-up whore who let Chase finger her in the church!" Jessica rocks, almost falling over, rolling around in joy on the couch. It echoes. "She's... New," Bill says, embarrassed, and even Sookie feels a bit awkward.

The people of Bon Temps laissés their asses rouler, and out in the mist Maryann raises her hands over her head, toward heaven, hands pointing down toward earth. Her body is like a dagger as she calls Him up: "Lo, lo Bacchos; lo, lo Eleutherios; lo, lo Loxias..." The wind kicks up, the dancing slows down; Eggs and Tara kiss as they dance, the players whirl. Maryann raises her face to the sky, in wonder and passion. Eggs leads Tara up the stairs, scattered with rose petals, past Jane Bodehouse in ecstasy. He kisses her, and lays her moaning on the bed.