Mkay I saw the season six premiere last night and had to write this.

A simple oneshot that will be divided into two parts. The next part coming in a day or so.

Read and Enjoy people!

Pam's eyes darted sporadically between the gun barrel pointed at her forehead, and Tara's inert body, the beginngs of panic fluttering in her stomach. Tara was not moving. She wasn't fucking breathing, and there was a peculiar feeling of emptiness corroding her progeny's side of the bond. For the second time since Pam became a Maker, she was well and truly terrified for Tara's life. Humans armed with guns, filled with wooden ammunition had flooded into Fangtasia-forcefully trying to take the one establishment that still connected her explicitly to Eric. They built it together; they ran it togther; Fangtasia was the one commonality between them that still felt tangible, and had nothing to do with Sookie's magical fucking vagina. For that reason alone Pam had tried to preserve it, but negotiating with a bunch of military neanderthals was a fruitless endeavor, and one that she abandoned as soon as she realized how terrified the opposing party was. Even now-The acrid scent of human fear permeated through the air-a constant reminder of the current situation. These particular humans were tense, and they were trigger happy-the worse possible combination for her to deal with. They were here to take Fangtasia from her and they had shot Tara.

Tara. Fangtasia. Tara. Fangtasia. Tara. Fangtasia.

Pam's glacier blue eyes darkened.

These fucktwats shot her progeny.

Pam could only feel small traces of Tara through their bond. Brief flickers of pain and confusion. Nothing concrete. Nothing reassuring.

A booted foot rammed into her ribs, startling her, and her gaze slowly left her progeny to stare at the human hovering over her. The ambitious leader of the firing squad surrounding her bar. He edged closer to her, beads of perspiration rolling down his brow, and jammed the edge of his assault rifle into her shoulder. "Move up against the wall. We're appropriating all of your wares tonight. If you try anything funny we will shoot you, just like we shot your friend." He warned her, his voice dropping to a low cadence in warning.

Pam's perfect white teeth flashed at the human meatsack as she mentally eviscerated him over and over again in her head. He was presumptuous enough to command her. He was taking Fangtasia. He shot Tara. All valid reasons to seperate his head from his body, and yet even with the exquisite vampire gifts Eric had graced her with, she was still helpless. These humans were taking everything, and there was not a damn thing she could do about it.

There were too many for her to kill, while dodging bullets, and she couldn't afford to risk Tara.

So, she surrendered.

Against propriety.

Against her nature.

Pushing off the ground she began to follow the gunman's directions. With excruciating slowness-her eyes moving in tandem with his rifle, she half crawled-half slid her way to the back of the bar. Halfway to her destination, she took a detour inching closer to Tara. Treating her progeny like she would fragile glass, she gently drew the limp woman into her arms, and slid back against the wall. Tara's head rolled into her lap, and Pam adjusted their position so the inert woman was arranged neatly against her, instead of sprawled over her in an unsightly heap. She was trying so very hard to be careful-exhibiting a fraction of the tenderness she reserved for only Tara. She was so engrossed in the task she hardly noticed the artillery squad milling about Fangtasia. Moving things. Destroying things.

Pam was experiencing an accute sense of whiplash.

They had been free from the Authority for less than an hour.

They survived Lillith.

They survived Bill Fucking Compton.

Pam had survived Eric's familial revelation.

Would they survive the human race when it was hell bent on incinerating them?

With Tara hovering between extreme states of lucidity and complete incoherency, Pam was leaning towards no. This was a human world that vampires lived in. And the humans didn't feel like sharing anymore. The time for a peaceful coexistance was over. Chasing the phantom of coinhabitance was no longer plausible. The severity of the situation was finally beginning to sink in. Vampires were on the cusp of total extinction, and no one borne of supernatural origins was safe. Eric was right to reprimand her earlier. Her feelings of righteous indignation were ill timed. And totally misguided. Nora was a pain in the ass but she was not the problem. The problem was Pam was missing the big picture.

Sometimes she forgot that in comparison to Eric she was relatively young, and unlike her he was not thinking in the present. He was old, and the marks of his age were shrouded in his invulnerable persona. He was always looking towards the future, and examining what variables would be detrimental to the whole. In the grand scheme of things, Pam's emotional turmoil was not important and would not have any fatal consequences. Not now. Not when the world was ending. But an hour ago Pam was too distraught to come to this conclusion. She was too upset that Eric didn't trust her.

She wanted to be able to stand side by side with Eric as his equal.

She ached to live up to her Maker's legacy.

But really, did her feelings matter now?

Only to Tara it seemed...

Her devastatingly beautiful, and unbelievably stupid progeny-Who had a complex for getting shot to protect the blondes in her life. Pam appreciated the protective gesture, but she was going to kill Tara when she woke up. Honestly. The girl acted like she had an "S" on her chest and was impervious to death. Vampires were more durable than humans, but the first lesson Eric had taught her was that everyone dies. Vampires included. A well known fact that Tara was refusing to learn.

Fucking Baby Vamps.

"Pam?" A caress of the wind; a dry rasp that her progney managed to husk out between clenched teeth.

Pam's gaze immediately fell towards the limp woman in her arms. Tara was making no attempt to mask her pain physically or in the less verbose way. Pam shuddered as something akin to a javelin piercing through her, traveled down the extension of their bond, mirroring Tara's agony, and magnifying it so Pam could feel it.

"Well, well, " Pam drawled-trying to gather her composure as a staggering amount of relief tore through her at seeing Tara awake again. "Welcome back." Her grip tightened marginally on her progeny, trying to solidify in her mind that she was real, and not on the verge of death or a very crippled afterlife. Mindful of the soldiers still watching them with hawk like vigilance, Pam leaned down so her lips were right next to Tara's ear. "What were you thinking Tara?" She hissed, her voice only audible to a vampire's hearing.

Tara was hardly recovered from the bullet lodged in her stomach, so her reply came out breathy and pained. "I was thinking that they need to keep their goddamn rifles off of you."

"You are stupid." Pam reprimanded her sharply, unmoved by the crass show of devotion. "We are surrounded. They are armed to the teeth, and they are scared. You just gave them another reason to fear us, so they shot you." Pam explained slowly, enunciating each word with exaggerated emphasis so Tara knew how serious she was.

"They were going to shoot you." Tara rumbled weakly, her hazel eyes flickering over to the shooting squad invading their home, before flitting back to Pam's exasperated gaze. "They were going to kill you. I will die before I let that happen. The bullet those fucking cunts shot me with hurts like a bitch, but it's nothing compared to how I would feel if you died." Tara's voice cracked, and through their bond pain pulsed like a living thing, thrashing, and writhing, looking for an outlet and finding one in her progeny.

For the first time in a long time Pam was speechless.

It wasn't the most eloquent show of loyalty she'd ever heard, but it was the most sincere one that had ever been directed at her. Feelings she tended to ignore bubbled up in her chest, pride, gratitude, and something far more intimate. However, in the same way it gratified her, it worried her. Tara was ready to die for her at the slightest provocation. In this stage of her progeny's life when she was all impulse, and primal instincts-she did not have a hope in hell of competeing against the enemies closing in on them from all sides. Tara's feelings towards Pam, however well intended, were going to get the little Vampire killed.

Losing Tara was becoming a distinct possibility.

Pam absentmindedly traced the contours of her progeny's face, with a gentle hand. "You are so stupid." She concluded without any of her usual bite. "They weren't going to kill me. They were going to take Fangtasia." Her lips curved up into a wistful smile-her mood settling on melancholy in the midst of pure chaos. "And despite the slight attatchment I have to this place, I don't need it. It's just four walls, and plaster, and everything in it from the tables, to the drinks, to the humans that work here are replaceable." Pam's voice hardened as she turned icy eyes to her progeny, who flinched in her arms. "You are not. So stop being so fucking moronic, and willing to cast your life away like it has no value."

"I don't...I don't understand" Tara trailed off uncertainly, her eyes wide. "Earlier you said-I could never measure up to Eric. I thought-"

"You weren't listening." Pam cut her off impatiently. "That feeling that connects Maker and progeny never goes away, and I've been Eric's for over 100 years. The devotion you have for me, that drove you to dive in front of a bullet-I have tenfold for Eric. I told you that you could never replace him-that doesn't mean you don't matter."

Tara's breathing stalled. "So does that mean, you and me?" The words struggled out into a barely cohesive sentence.

Pam sighed despairingly. "I also told you this is not an epic fucking romance. We could die at any moment. You almost just died a few minutes ago. I'm not interested in a relationship that could end miserably in death."

"Not because of Eric then. Because you're scared." Tara rationalized, staring up at her Maker beneath lidded eyes.

"Considering the several times we nearly died this week. Yes, scared just about sums up my emotional status, and if you were smart you would be too." Pam informed her bitterly. Exhaustion dragged down her words, and there was a temporary lapse in the conversation as Pam let her head fall back against the wall behind them. The blonde vampire stared up silently at the ceiling. Wondering how long this god awful "appropriation process" would take. An eternity seemed to have passed already, and she was still hearing the same convolution of noises; glass cracking, wood breaking, and paper tearing.

Tara had fallen silent in her arms as well, and Pam's exemplary hearing was able to pick up on her labored breathing.

The bullet probably needed to come out.

And there were no tweazers or tools of any kind to save Pam from having to bodily dig it out herself.

Fan-fucking-tastic. She thought darkly, and let her hand that was resting beneath Tara's neck slide down her body o her midsection. Tearing her shirt, so the expanse of flesh beneath her fingers was exposed Pam narrowed her focus to the small gaping hole staring at her. "I suggest you brace yourself. This is going to hurt." She warned a barely conscious Tara before inserting her pointer finger into the bulletwound. Immediately Tara's eyes shot open, and her progeny appeared to be holding back a scream. "Don't thrash, or the bullet might go in deeper, and this is going to hurt alot more." Pam murmured distractedly, twirling her finger around beneath Tara's skin so she could widen the wound. She needed two fingers inside the gaping wound to grasp the bullet, and pull it out.

As attentive as Pam was being at her current task, her senses were still on overdrive so when the door to Fangtasia slammed open and the smell of winter frost wafted to her, hailing her Maker's arrival with that damnable sister of his, she did not even look up. The humans all jumped at the sound-pausing in whatever governor ordered mandate they might be doing, and turning their attention towards the door.

"What the hell is going on here?" Eric Northman's voice drifted towards her a second later. Pam knew it would take her Maker a minute to assess the situation. The question is what would he do? Unlike her, he had the capabilites to kill every human in this room without sacrificing one of his own to do it. His sister would undoubtedly help him protect what was his as well. The loving sibling that she was. Fucking Nora.

The human leader of the firing squad that had addressed her earlier stepped forward. "We are here under the governers orders to shut down this business."

Eric, didn't even deem the man's words worthy enough to respond to. Instead his gaze perused the confines of Fangtasia looking for his progeny who was hidden beneath the bar counter trying to rid Tara of the accursed bullet weakening her. "Pamela?"

Oh now he wanted to talk to her?

Funny, she was a tad occupied at the moment.

The vindictive part of her laughed.

"Sir, I'm going to have to ask you to stand against the wall while we do this." The human gunman persisted.

Eric who was still trying to divine the location of his progney, focused intently on the assault rifles now pointed at him. Nora, ever at his side these days snorted disparagingly. "You've got to be joking." She drawled, her voice dripping with disdain, and that was the last thing Pam heard before screams filled the air, as well as the sound of decapitated bodies hitting the ground. In the instant it took to blink, Eric and Nora had systematically killed every last human in the room. A feat Pam could not have accomplished on her own. The threats being thoroughly executed gave Eric a singular focus, and he was able to track Pam's scent to the bar. Peering over the countertop, he was astonished to see Pam pouring over Tara's prone form. "Pam?" He vaulted over the bar landing next to his progney, who refused to look up from Tara's body.

Pam ignored her Maker, partly out of spite, and partly because her fingertips just brushed against the edge of the bullet. Grasping the the piece of ammunition carefully, she pulled it out from Tara's flesh with a quiet slink. Tara shuddered, her eyes glassy from the pain as the bullet left her body.

Eric watched this process silently. "Are you okay?" He asked, just as Pam threw the bullet on the ground disgustedly.

"I'm just peachy." Pam deadpanned. "They shot my fucking progney. How do you think I am?" Gently setting Tara on the ground, so as not to upset her battered body, she met Eric's concerned gaze, with a contemptible glare of her own. "How's Tinkerbell? and Jessica?"

"The fairy is fine, and so is the baby vamp." Nora spoke up from the corner of the room, even as Eric remained silent in the face of Pam's fury.

Of course the fairy was fine.

Sookie was always fine.

Pam shook her head, unable to put into words how sick she was of Sookie's life taking precedence over everyone elses. Tara might have died tonight, and Eric was moping like a lovesick teenage boy over Sookie fucking Stackhouse. "How cool." Pam gushed disinterestedly. "Well as lively as this diversion has been, my progeny needs blood if she's going to recover." She brushed past Eric, making an attempt to move around the bar.

He caught her arm, keeping her in place. "Pam. I know how trying this is for you, but she is my sister, and you are my progney. We are all going to survive this together, or we're going to die alone because we were too stupid to keep each other alive."

Pam shrugged out of his grip. "You don't have to tell me to play nice." His cutting words from earlier returned with a vengeance. Revolving in a never ending carousel through her mind.

Either have my back or get out of my face.

"No matter what you choose to do, I will always have your back." She chuckled in a way that held no amusment. "but the only one that always has mine is lying in a tangle of limbs by the bar."

She loved Eric to death.

That was an irrefutable fact that would never change.

But he wasn't the only one that mattered anymore, and his actions were indirectly making her progney suffer, and by extension indirectly making her suffer. She needed a break from Eric's indecipherable moods, and unpredictable actions. But like always, she would return to his side when it didn't visibly strain her to be around him. "I'll be back." At vamp speed she left the bar, a huntress looking for prey to sustain her, and those dear to her.

As she left Fangtasia behind her, Nora's voice filtered towards her. "Is she always this fucking dramatic?"

And that's the end for now.

What did you think?

And Did anyone else get the feeling in this new episode that Tara came on to Pam too strong, and royally fucked up the moment by being impulsive? Pam is not impressed by Baby vamp feelings. I think once Tara grows a little they will get somewhere.