A Bit of Warm Comfort (A True Blood - Sam/Tara Fic)

Chapter 5 - Strange Behavior

Terry Bellefleur, Sam's sometimes bartender, busboy and short order cook, moved hastily behind the bar. A troubled frown marred his rugged features. "Sorry I'm late, Sam," he said, tying an apron around his waist. "My dog's sick again."

"It's alright Terry," Sam said, taking several large bills from the teal and placing them in a deposit bag. "I'm just glad you could make it on such short notice. Is Scrapper gonna be okay?"

"I ain't sure. I think somebody poisoned 'im. I swear if I find out who done it, I'm gonna kill the bastard."

Scrapper was Terry's third hound dog in the past two years. He was convinced that someone was deliberately killing his dogs. Sam thought it was just a case of bad luck, but at this moment, he had other things on his mind. He'd been counting the minutes since Tara had stormed out the bar. Sam couldn't remember seeing Tara so upset. He wouldn't be able to rest unless he knew for sure she was alright.

"I'm sure he'll recover," said Sam, backing towards the door. "Tell Arlene to show the new girl, Rachelle, how to subtract her tips again. She came up short last night."

Terry nodded, his eyes shifting nervously down at his booted feet. Was it Sam's imagination or did Terry just blush when he mentioned Arlene's name?

"Call my cell if you need anything."

"Alright," said Terry.

Sam hurried across the parking lot to his pickup truck. When he got to Sookie's house, it was a little after nine. All was quiet. The surrounding woods and nearby clearing looked undisturbed. The only illumination came from two motion lights hanging from a nine foot post next to the gravel driveway. Sam bounded up the steps and peered through the front window. There were no signs of movement.

Where is she?

He lifted his nose and sniffed. The faint scent of honeydew, vanilla, and spice, Tara's favorite fragrance, lingered in the breezy night air. Sam followed the scent to the back of the house. His heart sank when he saw that Tara's car wasn't parked in its usual spot. He was tempted to sit on the porch and wait, but quickly discarded the idea. The last thing he wanted was Tara thinking he was stalking her.

Disappointed, he went back to his truck. He'd just have to settle for seeing her at Merlotte's tomorrow. As Sam climbed into the cab, he got another idea. Perhaps after work, he could ask her over to his trailer to watch a movie. They could stay up talking until morning like they did three nights ago. His thoughts drifted back to that night, recalling the coolness of her bare skin against his leg, the soft rhythmic breathing that tickled his chest hairs as she slept. He'd been amazed by how good it felt to just hold her and watch her sleep. As they lay in the darkness with her head on his chest, their limbs fitted together like the black and white halves of a ying-yang sign, Sam felt a sliver of hope.

Maybe things will be different between us this time, he thought. I won't have to be alone anymore. We both can be happy. Maybe…

Sam turned the key in the ignition, backed out the driveway and turned onto the main road. He headed westbound back to his trailer. He couldn't help thinking how nice it would be if Tara was there waiting for him when he got home.

The next day, Tara arrived to work right on time. She seemed different, but in a good way. She was more subdued than normal, but carried out her duties with efficiency and hadn't snapped at one customer. Things were going well and by the time the lunch rush was over Sam had built up the courage to approach her.

"Hey Tara, you mind if I talk to you for moment." He asked, rubbing the back of his neck, a tell-tell sign that he was nervous.

"Whassup, Sam?" She said indirectly while placing another beer in front of Jane Bodehouse who was sitting at the bar.