A/N: So in honor of April Fool's Day, this little drabble starring my favorite couple came to mind. Please be on the look out for more drabbles, one-shots, and short stories as for some reason my muse has decided to make a little cameo. As always I'd totally appreciate hearing your thoughts on it as reviews make my day!
Happy reading!
A small smirk of mischief tugged at the corners of Tara's mocha dusted lips as she sat, curled up like a black cat on the long black leather couch in the lounge of the palatial cubby beneath the nightclub she owned with her lover, Fangtasia Revamped. Eyes carved from the darkest obsidian roved intently over the white printed pages of the large book in her hand. The fingers of the other hand threaded indolently through her smooth ink black tresses as her foot thumped against the cool couch cushion in time to a tune she softly hummed to herself.
Three. Two. One.
A sharp, high pitched shriek suddenly rent the air and Tara's smirk widened into a full fledged shit eating grin of delight as she snapped her book closed and rose to her feet to face the inevitable maelstrom that was due to strike in a matter of seconds.
"TARA MAE THORNTON!" Pam screamed, storming out of the bathroom in a powder white bathrobe, her face bearing an expression of pure, unadulterated fury. Her long, lustrous hair had been stripped of its natural golden blonde hue and was now a bright and vivid shade of blue.
"I'm gonna fucking kill you," she seethed, stalking her progeny with a slow, vicious intent.
Tara darted behind the couch, hands raised in defense. "Aww c'mon Pam," she teased with a chuckle, "It matches your eyes."
"And my fist is gonna match your face if you don't fix this shit now!"
The chuckling gave way to a deep, throaty belly laugh as Tara dodged Pam's charge, vamp speeding to other end of the room. "Be a good sport baby, it's April first."
As if the moment couldn't get any worse, the scent of salt and ice flooded the livid vampire's nostrils. "Yes, do be a good sport Pamela," a charmingly low voice drawled in amusement from the room's threshold. Pam's cerulean gaze narrowed as her Maker unceremoniously strutted across the floor, a coy smile spread across his face, Nordic eyes twinkling with delight upon taking in the sight of his progeny's new do, "You look like that Muppet with the cookie addiction."
"Chill the fuck out," Tara laughed, wiping a blood tear of mirth from her eye, "He said you look like Cookie Monster."
Pam placed her hand on her hip and shot daggers back and forth between her Maker and progeny. If looks could kill both would have been puddles of congealed blood on the cream carpet. "Payback's a fucking bitch," she growled, fangs bared as she vamp sped into the bathroom to wash that blue monstrosity out of her hair and God help Tara and Eric if the shit didn't come right out.
The young vampire looked over at her grandsire, the amusement ebbing from her face as her Maker's threat seemed to tangibly linger in the air, "Are we in trouble?"
Eric scatched the back of his, looking somewhat contrite and a little worried, "I don't know. I think you'd better sleep with one eye open though. Pamela's pretty vengeful when she wants to be."
"Oh hell no Swedish Fish. If I go down I'm taking all six foot four of you down with me. That dye job was your idea!"
