This was intended as an entry for the Snarky Sidekick contest, but alas life got in the way and it was not to be. I hope you enjoy it anyway!
Disclaimer: Pam, her snarkiness and all things Sookieverse belong to the talented Charlaine Harris.
Summary: Pam has apparently passed on her love of Dear Abby to dear Eric—much to her chagrin.
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"The master has instructed me to relieve you from the door. He wishes to see you in his office immediately," Thalia told me with no emotion as I carded morbid drunks at the Fangtasia door.
"Thalia, always a pleasure. You little ray of sunshine, a thousand thanks for my- relief."
I quickly went to Eric's office. The toneless manner in which Thalia delivered the message could mean any number of things and since my master isn't my biggest fan at the moment, I felt it prudent not to delay him.
As I approached, I noticed the door was open. I was mere inches from it when I heard his voice from within.
"Enter, Pamela," he said without lifting his eyes from his laptop.
Pamela? Shit. Then this was going to be one of those unpleasant meetings. Bring on the formality.
"Master, Thalia said that you wished to see me." I spoke as I entered my hands hooked behind my back and my head lowered in reverence.
"I did. I have a gift for you," he said. He picked up a wrapped package with a card taped to the top. He still did not remove his eyes from the computer screen.
The package was light and felt like a book but I waited to be told to open it. The tension between Eric and I had been palpable since our tangle in Sookie's kitchen a few nights prior.
He typed something in and hit the enter key and finally he met my eyes. He was smiling and it was his old, cocky smile. I would have breathed in relief but remained wary.
"I am taking Sookie on a date tonight. We are attending a play at the Strand Theatre, I just got tickets. Don't look so afraid. Since when are you shy about receiving gifts?"
"I am sorry Master. Thank you for the gift, truly. I only thought…"
"Pamela, we have been stressed out as the breathers put it. However, you are still my child and I still love you. Now, I need to get dressed, you may open the gift while I go change."
He exited the room in a blur of black. Our Fangtasia attire left little room for self expression—or body movement.
For a moment, I looked at the parcel like it was made of silver. Finally deciding that I needed to nut up or shut up(my new favorite phrase, courtesy of Sookie's brother) I first opened the card on top.
Thinking of You
The top of the card was adorned with a Labrador puppy in a field of daisies. The pups soulful eyes challenging me to go further into the token.
Dearest Pamela,
I must apologize for my many years of doubting you. When you first mentioned my need to read the advice column Dear Abby, I seriously considered ending you. However, I am now delightfully acquainted with her sage words of advice. I have even submitted a letter to her and I am pleased to tell you that she chose my letter to answer in a recent edition of her column. Please see the attached letter and enjoy my gift to you.
-E
Eric wrote to Dear Abby? If I weren't already a fucking corpse my blood would have been running cold. Nothing good could come from baby Labradors, daisies or Eric Northman writing to Dear Abby.
The attached newspaper clipping caused me to seek a chair and the sound of my latex catsuit reverberated around the office.
DEAR ABBY: I am a new reader to your column as it has come highly recommended by my longtime business partner for years. I have only recently come to respect your views and see that once again my partner "Pam" really knows her stuff. However, I am writing to you because of my partner.
You see we have been together for what feels like centuries. She is my most trusted confidant and an ally that I know I can always count on. The problem is that we have been dealt a windfall of stress lately with the powers that be and I feel that her inability to control the stress has caused her to begin minding issues of my personal life and affecting her work.
My partner is business savvy and fiercely loyal to me. Together we have seen many battles and I anticipate more in our future. I seek your advice on ways to alleviate her stress and remove her from personal issues in my life without causing a division in our partnership. Your advice will be greatly appreciated.
-Stressed Out in Shreveport
Dear Stressed Out: Stress is a main contributing factor for many problems in women, especially in today's society. You and "Pam" seem to have a wonderful business relationship, but I do agree that in order to keep things friendly she must have limited interest in your personal life. In my professional opinion, you must learn to say when enough is enough as far as the personal nosing goes.
However, going back to the issue of stress, one of my hobbies and a great stress reliever for myself is keeping a journal. There is no set way to write in a journal, it is simply a place for recording one's thoughts throughout a day and can serve as a place to vent. I suggest that you acquire a journal for "Pam" and if she chooses to use it she just may see that her stresses can be managed.
I do wish you luck in your business and personal responsibilities. Thanks for writing!
My hands were shaking. I peeled the paper away from what I was sure was my new journal. Sure enough, underneath the dreadful puppy and the flowery wrapping paper was a blood red leather journal with my initials emblazoned in gold filigree. The pages were unlined and there was a small attached holder with a fine ball point pen in it.
Eric walked back into the room and straight to the full length mirror in the corner. He looked prepared for a night at the theater in a dark Armani suit with an undone tie around his neck. He glanced at my hands and smiled deliciously.
"Pam, would you be a dear and come fix my tie for me?"
Why? Is it possible to strangle you with the tie?
"Of course, Eric," I replied as I sat down my new journal on his desk.
"Soooo, what do you think?" he asked me beaming.
"Thank you for the lovely journal," I said as I effortlessly tied a Windsor knot into his crimson tie.
"You are most welcome. I expect to see your daily musings in the journal and hopefully it will alleviate the stress of our business."
"Eric. I am not stressed out because of the business and you know it. Miriam is dead. Victor is alive. And you have been sold into a marriage with some bitch of a queen. That is not stress—that is a big old pile of bullshit as Sookie would say."
Apparently at a loss for words, Eric showed the first tenderness to me that I had received in weeks. He lifted my chin up but I turned my head determined that he would not see the hot, bloody tear waiting to fall.
"Pamela, titta på mig."
I hesitantly raised my eyes to his. Eric had been my maker for nearly three centuries. He was more than a maker to me.
"I am sorry for your Miriam. Victor will meet his end at my sword to atone for his many sins the most recent of which has hurt you. As far as Oklahoma, I appreciate your concern but I will handle it. I will not be marrying anyone, I am already married. Sookie does not need to know—for now. Understood?"
I knew that was as close to an apology that I would get and honestly, I have done bitchier things to him.
"What play are you going to see?" I asked.
"Fiddler on the Roof. Sookie has never even seen it on television, I thought it might be a welcome choice."
"I am sure she will love it."
"Yes. Pam, I will need you to close up the bar tonight. You are relieved from the door for the remainder of the evening. I expect Compton to come in tonight to deliver formal notice as to the exit of his sister, lover, whatever Judith was and her departure since she did not feel inclined to tell me herself. Please deal with him."
"Yes," I held my breath hoping the ridiculous journal was only the means to a joke of some kind.
"And of course, do not forget to write in your journal. Have a pleasant night."
And then he was gone.
Oh, don't worry. I will write in the diary.
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Dear Journal,
Dear Diary,
Hello,
Welcome to my world: Yes, that one felt right for the first entry.
Welcome to my world. I have been, presumably, ordered to write in a journal. What can I say? Apparently, I am stressed out. And why would I be? A sniveling little dickwad of a vampire, Victor Madden, has refused to allow me to create a vampire of my lover. She is now dead, having succumbed to a human disease. My maker who is married to the little telepath I have become quite fond of is betrothed to the Queen of Oklahoma because his douchebag maker basically sold him to the highest bidder. He still hasn't told his wife and if I know Sookie, this will not end well.
Can I get in trouble if I hope she gives him hell? Hmm.
So I will be entering my thoughts to relieve my stress.
Evening One: 12:53 a.m.
Bill Compton has just walked through the door. He looks like a washed up model for the Sears and Roebuck catalog. I can't decide what is tighter the fake smile on his face or perhaps his asshole. He walks up to me, clearly searching for Eric. So sorry soldier but tonight you deal with me.
"Evening Bill. What a pleasure it is to see you in our fine establishment. How's Judith?"
"Pam, you know that Judith has left me. Would it kill you to behave like a lady for once in your life?"
"Well seeing as I'm already dead and my life has been ended for a while I suppose not. Anyway, I am very busy. What do you want?"
He stood stoically as I filed down a fingernail and watched it grow back in minutes.
"I can see that. Is Eric in?"
Oh good, this could be fun.
"Afraid not. He took Sookie, his wife, to see a play a few hours ago. I would assume he is either at his home or hers fucking her into tears of ecstacy right about now. Is there anything that I can help you with?"
He thrust a manila envelope to me, thick with documentation.
"I have gathered the necessary information from Judith- not without pain I might add. Make sure that the Sheriff receives it."
"Oh sir, yes sir," I responded as I gave him a one fingered salute. I purposely flung the folder down onto the bar top and resumed my filing.
He stood there, apparently transfixed for a few seconds before walking to a booth and flagging down a waitress.
After slowly sipping his True Blood, glancing at his watch every five fucking minutes and trying to stare a hole into my forehead he finally decided to leave. Jesus, we need to get him another woman quickly. Or at least a doll of some type.
The rest of the page was filled with a hand drawn rendition of Bill in full Confederate regalia crying outside Sookie's window. Cries of passion drawn into floating bubbles. My art was amazing. I could do this comic book thing, easy.
At twenty minutes to two, I got yet another visitor. Alcide Herveaux came stomping into the bar. I usually prefer my meat in a female version, but figured Herveaux would do in a pinch. The tight white t-shirt he wore clung to his extremely well defined chest like a second skin. I wonder if werewolf tastes different than regular men? Food for thought.
Entry Two: 1:43 a.m.
"Pam, is Eric here? I need to speak to him right now. Gotta get this shit cleared up quick."
"Sorry Alcide, but my master was on a date tonight with his wife. As I told Compton, I believe the plan was go to dinner, go to a play, and then sex until dawn. Can I help you?"
"Uh, just tell Eric that I need to talk to him and that it's urgent."
He started to walk away but I was curious. Besides, I need fodder for my darling little journal.
"Oh Alcide, how about a free beer before you go?"
And that was all it took for me to catch his eyes and hold him in my glamour.
By the time the man had told me what he did at Sookie's house I was nearly choking with laughter.
"So you were totally naked?"
"Yes ma'am."
"And you were in her bed?"
"Yes ma'am."
"And Eric doesn't know yet?"
"I'm not sure but I feel we need to clear the air before any shit gets started."
"Oh, yes. Although, why would anyone want to start any shit just because you stripped down to your birthday suit and showed up in the bed of the wife of Eric Northman. That's preposterous."
He stood looking at me with the glazed over vision of a man in a trance.
"Alcide, I'm hungry. Take a lady to dinner?"
Eric is going to kill me when he smells his office. Oh and he tasted sort of gamey but sweet at the same time.
After I let out the dog it was back to boredom. Thank God the bar was only open for a little bit longer before the dawn.
I was literally watching the seconds tick by on the clock waiting for closing when my night got a whole lot more interesting. At five minutes to four Thalia came flying into the room.
"Pam! Victor is here and he has a woman with him who claims to be the Queen of Oklahoma!"
Wonderful that this should happen when Eric is out—just fucking wonderful.
"Okay. You get the bar empty and I will go greet Victor and his guest and take them to my office. As soon as the bar is empty, I need you to report to my office. Bring Ricarldo with you."
Ricarldo was the newest in a long line of bartenders but at least he was vampire. He was a recent turn but big and strong. He had been in some sort of televised fighting club on television. I knew that Victor would be heavily guarded and I didn't know what would be happening in that office. Better to cover my ass.
"Victor, what a lovely surprise," I spoke desperately trying to control the acid in my voice. I shivered as he leaned in and kissed me on both cheeks stopping by my ear to give his deepest sympathies at Miriam's death.
"Yes, well. Shall we adjourn to my office?" I asked.
"Pam, I have brought with me the Queen of Oklahoma. Is this any way to greet royalty?"
I looked at her hardly impressed. She had a nice enough face but was sorely lacking in the body department. Perhaps this is why she had to resort to buying a husband from a maker. Regardless, I bowed my head in deference.
"Your majesty.
A/N: In the next chapter we will see what goes down in Pam's office. This takes place before the death of Victor. I hope you all enjoyed it and want me to continue. Love to you all! –D-