A/N: I am still prone to swooning over the season 6 premiere. All the Pam/Tara screen time made me ever so happy. Here is my rendition of what went down between them on the beach after the cameras faded to black. Hope y'all enjoy!
Get out of my sight before I kill you
I trust no one. You shouldn't either.
As your Maker, I release you.
Get over it and have my back, or get out of my face.
No matter how many times she tried, Pam couldn't stop the words from swirling around the recesses of her mind. They were in the middle of a bloody war, had just escaped the confines of the now smoldering Authority headquarters, had just witnessed what could possibly be Lillith incarnate in the form of Bill fucking Compton take to the midnight skies and yet none of that mattered. No, the only thing that mattered was the fact that the one person who had meant anything to her for the last century was attempting to kick her out of his life. Or at least that was what it felt like. For one hundred years they had existed side by side, killing and fucking and laughing and in the span of a few months, all of that was coming to an end. At first, she had blamed it on Sookie Stackhouse and that pixie pussy of hers but now it looked as if her Maker's feelings had been influenced by no one but his own. And she couldn't understand why. Kicking over a small castle a child had left in the sand, she all but plopped onto the beach with a dejected huff.
She could sense her progeny lingering behind her before she heard the blur of vamp speed. Being the proud vampire she was, she wasn't keen on Tara seeing her so vulnerable. It wasn't exactly consistent with the unbreakable Barbie image she had upheld for the past few weeks. But despite the fact, an odd warmth filled her belly as she bit back a sniffle when Tara settled herself beside her in the cool, moist sand.
"I hate the beach," Pam griped, pleased to hear that her voice had gone nearly back to its normal, dry drawl, "Fish piss and sand in your cooch."
Tara regarded her Maker through soft, burnt sienna eyes. Through their bond she could feel the emotions that warred within the blonde and knew how much Eric's dismissal had hurt her. Personally, she couldn't understand Pam's devotion to the asshole, had never been fond of the former Viking herself, and desired nothing more than to spit silver in his eye. But she wasn't going to admit to that, especially not when every fiber in her undead body sang to comfort Pam. It was all she could do to keep herself from wrapping her arms around her but the defensiveness was just oozing in waves off of the older vampire and Tara knew from experience that particular sort of onslaught would be met with resistance.
"You know," she murmured, "Love doesn't have to be a competition between you and everybody else."
Pam stared out at the breaking waters of the sea as her progeny's word washed over her and tears welled in her eyes. Tara didn't understand and she probably never would. Eric was her Maker, her hero. There was no competition. Sookie could hardly count as a contender regardless of how good her cookie tasted and that bitch Nora couldn't be that important for her to have no knowledge of the former council members' existence for a century. As far as she was concerned Eric was hers. She had given him everything, all of her love, respect, and loyalty. She would die for him a thousand times and that was something Sookie or fucking Nora could never vow. A drop of blood playing on the tip of her lower lashes rolled down her cheek.
"Fuck off," she grunted, turning her face away lest her Child see the evidence of her pain.
Tara's heart seized at the sight of Pam's tears and her dislike of Eric increased tenfold. How dare he put that defeated look in her Maker's eyes? She lifted a tentative hand, her fingertips barely ghosting the skin of Pam's forearm before the limb was jerked from her grasp.
"I mean it Tara."
The ebony skinned vampire slowly retracted her hand, her gaze never wavering from Pam. "You just don't want me to see you cry," she gently accused.
Pam's head fell as she took in a deep though unnecessary breath, "I'm not crying." She didn't have to see her progeny's soft smile and eye roll to know how ridiculous she sounded. "All right, I'm crying but it's because I'm fucking pissed."
A small spell of silence passed between them before Tara lifted another tentative hand to Pam's shoulder and she felt all resistance slowly melt away. A sob broke from the blonde's lips and she let her head fall to her progeny's shoulder, abandoning her defenses. It was a strange feeling, drawing comfort from another and her mind went back to her breakdown in front of Ginger. This was different though. The warmth that had pooled in her stomach was spreading and a feeling of calm came over her. It was as if Tara was pouring pure tranquility through the bond and Pam relished in it even as her shoulders shook with anguish.
"I would hold you forever," Tara murmured, brushing back a lock of Pam's now windswept hair.
Blood rimmed cerulean eyes met soft brown ones, searching them imploringly before the contact was broken with a sigh. "You don't know what that means."
"Oh I think I do."
"You don't."
Tired of the back and forth, Tara leaned forward and captured Pam's lips with her own. The blonde froze for a moment before returning the kiss, responding with just the same heat and fervor from the Authority headquarters though Tara quickly took control, her lips moving sensually and intently over her Maker's, her hands gently cupping Pam's face, catching the sigh that fell from her bee-stung mouth. Their tongues met, teasing and tasting as the kiss deepened and the passion infused desperation increased. Pam poured her pain and confusion while Tara sprinkled her protectiveness and desire, all of which combined into a heady, volatile concoction that had both moaning for more.
Pam's hand trailed from her progeny's shoulder, down to her jacket covered breast, lean torso, to the button of her leopard print jeggings. Tara shuddered when she felt her pants unsnap and gasped, her fangs dropping with a sharp click as cool fingers teased her damp feminine curls. Pam chuckled throatily as she pressed a line of kisses along Tara's jaw line, all evidence of sadness and despaired wiped away as she slipped into a more familiar and welcome emotional territory.
"I bet that never happened before," she drawled between kisses, her long fingers delving between Tara's folds, pleased to discover that she was both quivering and soaked, "My my, aren't we eager?"
"Jesus fucking Christ," Tara moaned, her hips rolling as Pam hungrily explored her nether regions, the crash of waves breaking, the sand and beach, the war and Billith disappearing from her mind entirely. Had she been human still she might have fainted as the sensory overload was proving to be too much. She gripped Pam's shoulders, needing some kind of solid something as her head fell back and another strangled expletive burst from her lips.
Jason!
Oh my gosh!
What are you doing?!
It was over before it had even properly begun. Maker and progeny were quickly jolted back into reality by the alarmed shouts coming from the other side of the beach and as Pam's fingers slipped from out of her pants Tara couldn't help but feel bereft, biting back a bitter curse. Pam wordlessly jumped to her feet when the sound of Eric's voice met their ears and Tara followed suite, both vamp speeding in the direction of what sounded like a potentially deadly situation.
