"I had this crazy dream this morning. We were sitting, eating breakfast, and all of a sudden the sunlight set you on fire." We will never sleep beside each other, we will never have breakfast together, because we are a family and because you do not eat, and because breakfast happens across the meridian. He knows what she means, all of it, and fidgets with his keys. "It wouldn't happen quite that way." She looks at him; the coldness of this, the way he's a man and a beast and a dead thing, all at once. "The sunlight would severely weaken me. And eventually, of course, I would die. But I wouldn't burst into flames." Is that good enough? "Not right away, at least." She rolls her eyes at another crack in the foundation. The one man in all creation that she could be with.
Tara creeps toward the hedge-witch's bus. The nature is so loud out here, a thousand creatures chirping and buzzing and hissing and sliding and fucking and eating and dying in the night. It's deafening past the crossroads. Standing at the door, listening to the world, she hears a crack and turns: Miss Jeanette, beautiful and crooked, smiling at her proudly. "I knew you'd come. Let's go inside."
The guy at the nudist -- sorry, "naturist" -- colony outside Beaumont goes all the way back to the Sixties looking for the Merlottes, but there's nothing. Andy, disappointed, says goodbye, and because it's Texas the guy invites him to their monthly naked barbecue. Andy hangs up without giving what you would call a firm RSVP one way or the other.
Pam reclines against the bar -- yes! -- in a cute pink sweater, hair soft, makeup normal, nothing dominatrixy about her; Bill is next to her looking suspicious and worried or else that's just his face; Eric prowls around the bar in a black tank top; Sookie sits at a table in the middle of the room. Eric explains the favor. He, Pam and Long Shadow are partners in Fangtasia! They recently noticed $60,000 gone from the books. He indicates Bruce, a sweating chubby human accountant at the table, who is freaking the fuck out.
"Perhaps you can listen to him," Eric says, and Sookie gets snotty with him as usual, plus the rage that is bubbling ever Tara-closer to the surface: "He's not saying anything."
You have to know him, and we don't, or at least the actor, to understand how charmed he is by this. His lovely face is palsied with the effort to control his old, old hunger, and his smile is a threat, but there's a twinkle in his eyes that says there is maybe one person in Area 5, human or not, who is packing just enough game to talk this shit to him without getting kicked across the room, and that's because he is a pragmatist, just like Sookie, and realizes that every time she opens her mouth, what she's really saying is, "Fuck you for being the boss, and fuck you for putting me in a cage by dint of your existence." She could walk away from all of this, and Eric wouldn't have a call on her, do you see? She only belongs to Bill, she's only "mine," for as long as she says it's true. At least at this point. So she can afford to tell Eric to fuck off, because she's only visiting. She's only kept there by her heart, and not her blood.