TITLE: Denial Isn't Just A River In Egypt

RATING: M for language, violence and mature themes

PAIRING: Pam/Tara

SYNOPSIS: Pam wants to kiss and forget. Tara wants to do more than kiss. What happens when the tension between maker and progeny reach a critical point?

DISCLAIMER: True Blood and its delightfully complex characters do not belong to me. I'm just borrowing them to satiate my muse.

A/N: So, many stories have revolved around Pam and Tara accepting the sudden development in their relationship. I've decided to go a different route and explore a story where Pam is buried deep beneath a sea of denial.

FYI, the titles for each chapter and Pam's actions/reactions are going to be based on George Eman Vaillant's 4 levels of denial. Any misinterpretation is completely my fault; I barely scraped a pass for Psych 101 in college. That subject is so NOT my forte and all my psych classes were at some godforsaken hour of the morning which didn't help. Anyway, enjoy!

Level I – Pathological Defenses

It was "Ignore Tara" day. The vampire in question watched with sulky eyes as her maker backed out of the room as quickly as she had entered it and found Tara sprawled across the couch.

Tara bit back a growl of frustration as she flopped back onto the couch, the careless action causing her hair to splay out around her like flowing black water. Ever since The Kiss happened, Pam had been acting borderline bi-polar. There were days where her maker was her usual self; all snark and dry humor. Then there days like today, where Pam would actively avoid her progeny like the bubonic plague.

Tara rolled onto her stomach and allowed herself a moment's reprieve as she buried her head into the couch cushion and screamed out a stream of expletives that would have no doubt turned the air blue.

Ten days. It had been ten days since the motley crew of vampire, human and half-fairy had escaped The Authority. Ten days of being cooped up together in close quarters and learning to deal with each other's idiosyncrasies. Ten days of playing "Guess Which Pam It Is Today." Tara chewed off a new string of curses, punching half-heartedly at the couch as she went.

"Hey," a tentative voice floated over to the frustrated vampire.

Tara lifted her head mid-curse and found none other than Jessica standing timidly by the door. Groaning, she dropped her head back onto the couch, muttering nonsensically.

Jessica chewed her lip as she contemplated her actions. Curiosity won out and she found herself meandering across the room only to perch on the arm of the couch by Tara's head. She stared down at her fellow vampire, a bit startled to see Tara so unhinged. "Hey," she repeated, purposefully keeping her voice low, lest she provoke Tara into a rage. "You okay?"

"Do I fuckin' look okay?" Tara snarled as she lifted her head to glare at the redheaded vampire.

"Move over."

Tara cocked her head in surprise. "Excuse me?"

"Move over," Jessica instructed, indicating down the couch with a pale hand.

Tara rolled her eyes, bit back an acerbic reply and folded herself into a sitting position at the end of the couch.

Jessica plopped down next to her and brought her knees up to her chest. Propping her chin on her knees, she stared at Tara with concern clouding her cornflower blue eyes. Tara, for her part, was watching the front of her boots with forced fascination. "Have you talked to her about what happened?" Jessica finally questioned.

Tara rolled her eyes. "Have you seen the way she's been acting? She's like a fuckin' emotional yo-yo. One minute she acts like everything's fine and the next minute she's hightailin' it out of every room I'm in like her fine ass caught fire."

Jessica smirked gleefully at Tara's blatant mention of Pam's posterior being "fine" but then nodded sympathetically . Pam's irrational mood swings were starting to take its toll on every occupant in the house. Even Eric, who was the most calm and levelheaded of the group, had been seen engaging in a heated discussion with his progeny. The two blondes had been found in the main living room hurling biting remarks back and forth in Old Swedish. It had ended with Eric throwing his hands up in defeat, a deep scowl etched across his face whilst Pam had sneered, called him a dick and turned on her heel before marching out the door.

"You really need to talk to her," Jessica implored beseechingly. "For everyone's sake."

Tara dropped her head against the back of the couch with an audible thump. "Nuh uh. I'm sick and tired of her hot and cold bullshit." She screwed her eyes shut and sucked in a deep but needless breath. "Kissing her was a goddamn mistake."

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Pam, who was currently hiding out in the small pantry, which happened to be adjacent to the small living room Tara was in, carefully nursed a bottle of Tru Blood.

"Kissing her was a goddamn mistake."

The sound of Tara's voice penetrated through the thin wall dividing the two rooms and floated over to tickle Pam's ears. Her fingers tightened around the neck of the bottle upon hearing those words but she relinquished the chokehold she had on the bottle when the glass began to crack and splinter under the pressure.

"Fuckin' baby vamps," Pam mumbled derisively before taking a healthy swig. She grimaced at the dead metallic taste and set the bottle back down.

Truth was, Pam knew she had been acting crazy. She had even managed to drive calm and collected Eric Northman into a frenzied state of frustration, which was quite a feat considering the almost endless supply of patience her maker had. But ever since The Kiss, Pam had been subjected to a myriad of foreign emotions that had left her like a PMS-ing teenage girl on steroids.

The Kiss. She lifted a hand to trace her full lips, still able to feel the soft brush of Tara's mouth against her own. The kiss had been unexpected but Pam was ashamed to say not entirely unwelcomed. In the heat of the moment, she had allowed Tara to walk into her arms and capture her lips with her own. In front of both Sookie and Jessica, Pam had given in to the moment and returned the kiss with fervor.

Now, she was reaping its consequences. Pam slugged back another mouthful of Tru Blood before sighing heavily. The Kiss had opened up the door to a flood of feelings Pam was sure had been quelled by her jaded human life. Now they coursed through her veins, wrecking havoc as they went and Pam was sure that she would be driven insane by them.

Yet instead of dealing with them and talking to Tara about what The Kiss meant, Pam had taken a turn for the worst and retreated deep into the land of denial. There were days when she could safely push The Kiss to the far corners of her mind and pretend like everything was fine. These were the days when she could tolerate being in the same room as her progeny. However, there were days, like today, where The Kiss was all she could think about and being in such close proximity to Tara and having the younger vampire's scent wrap around her like a seductive noose was more than she could take.

"It was just a kiss," the blonde muttered to herself. "One kiss. It meant nothing. She means nothing."

'Lies," a smug voice answered inside Pam's head. 'You liked it,' the voice continued in a taunting manner.

"Shut up," Pam growled. She tugged a frustrated hand through her hair then shook her head in exasperation. Here she was, sitting alone and arguing with herself. She was starting to lose it.

"Fuck," Pam muttered darkly. She drained the bottle of its red liquid then moved over to the sink to rinse it out before chucking it into the blue recycle bin located in the corner. "Fuck these feelings," she hissed, resolve hardening. She was a goddamn vampire, not some hapless damsel found flitting through romance novels. Feelings had no place in her world.

Back straightening, she marched out of the small pantry, bypassing Nora who jumped aside like a scalded cat upon seeing the dangerous glint in Pam's eye. She was going to squash these feelings once and for all, consequences be damned.

As Pam made her way back to her room, she vowed for a mental makeover and pitied anyone would try to persuade her otherwise.

TBC