"Well, I didn't mean—" Sookie starts to protest, although the delayed gratitude stalls her words, and emotion hits her more directly than she expected. She knows full well what the majority of Bon Temps thinks of her, that she's more than a little dumb, generally sweet, but also a whole lot more loose and desperate than anyone her age ought to be. Lips slightly parted, eventually Sookie shakes her head, waving her hand. "I just mean that after a bit of vodka, seriously, I'm practically as high as a kite. But..."

She nods, leaning forward, reaching out to rest a hand gently on Sarah's arm, the one that wasn't broken in the fight that still stands out too clearly in Sookie's memories. "'Course you can ask me something. Anything."