Eric was unfair. He knew that, but he couldn't bear to see his Pamela with another man. Together they had been magnificent, but in the end the fear had caused him to end that relationship. He loved her too much to stay with her like that. Keeping his child around damn near two centuries was shady enough without having her as his lover as well.

When he commanded her as her maker to never be with another man he saw the pain in her eyes, but knew she would listen. She always listened to him. Pam also knew he'd always find other women, and Eric saw her die a little each time he did. She could feel the love he still had for her burning through their bond, and even when he tried to hide it she could always feel it every night before he died for the day.

What Pam didn't realize is that Eric sought out women that were her. Blonde haired, blue eyes, soft curves on a lithe body; not a single goddamn one of them compared to her though. For starters they didn't smell like his Pam, that was an easy fix for him though, he'd taken to fucking them in the office he shared with the woman he truly desired. One thing he couldn't get past was their taste though. No matter how hard he tried no one tasted like Pam. Her body always tasted like a combination of her human blood and the sunshine she had smelled of the night he turned her. The blood was the hardest part to overcome though. Her human blood had tasted like a dish his mother had made him as a child, and once he turned her the bourbon flavor of his own blood had mixed into her sweet taste, causing a heady flavor that completely intoxicated him.

The two had loved with a passion that was unattainable, and yet it gave them both what they'd needed. She had never had a father figure in her human life, so when Eric turned her and began caring for her, as one might a small child; she viewed him as a father, but also a lover. Eric could recall some fangbangers calling it a 'Daddy-Kink'. Eric didn't mind though. He was raised to know you care for your women, and your children. He'd give anything for this woman, who was also his child, and if that meant he couldn't have her the way he wanted he could handle that as long as she was safe.

Of course all of that transpired before, as Pamela had so eloquently put it, Sookie-fucking-Stackhouse. Thanks to the, again as Pam put it, fairy cunt Eric was not driving to Bill Compton's house to retrieve his progeny. When he'd arrived at Fangtasia and inquired about the only blonde that meant a damn to him Ginger had nervously informed him that Pam and gone off with Bill Fucking Compton. He may love Pam, but he couldn't tolerate her direct insubordination.

I knew the second I'd left the club with Bill that once Eric heard he'd be flying in here like a bat out of hell. In all honesty she didn't know how she'd gotten the courage to accept Bill's invitation, but she knew that women wouldn't do it anymore. Not that they ever had, but it wasn't even a simulation of the real thing.

No one knew Eric better than Pam did, and she knew that he was a territorial, jealous bastard. Beyond a shadow of a doubt she knew that to Eric she was his most prized possession. He loved her beyond anything else, and for the last eighty years she had clung to that. Every time some blonde whore walked into their club and garnered his attention she knew that he loved her, and that girl was just a distraction.

Now though? Now things were different. That fairy cunt wasn't just a quick one off for Eric. He'd worked to get her from Bill. He fought for her, strategized, and used her as an errand girl for that gap-toothed bitch! So Pam had left with Bill. Without a second thought he asked if she'd like to come home with him, and before the thought twice had grabbed her jacket, and told Ginger were she was going.

The shock was still visible on Bill's face even now forty-five minutes later. Apparently he was still a southern gentleman, because he'd insisted on wine before they actually fucked, and he'd wanted the wine to breathe. Pam smirked as she realized what was happening; Bill was doing just what she was. They were both left alone by the ones they loved, and now here they sat in Bill's garishly decorated living room, waiting for the wine to finish breathing.

The room made Pam miss Eric's living room. It had warm colors, and the blues and greens of his homeland. Bill's living room was decorated in white and silver. There wasn't a lot of furniture, but it was too sterile. Too clean. Too different. The room didn't smell like she felt it should, and Bill's hands absently stroking her neck were too small. She felt a gnawing sensation in her gut, and yet she couldn't quite place the new emotion. It was as if ever part of her body knew this was wrong. That he wasn't Eric.

'Speaking of the devil' was the first thing to pop into Pam's mind when the blonde Viking burst through Bill's door directly to her left. She felt almost giddy at seeing him, but schooled her features into an impassive mask. Eric narrowed his eyes when he saw the sight before him, and Pam had to admit it couldn't have worked out any better if she'd planned this.

She and Bill were seated together, and Bill had his arm around the back of the couch with his fingers stroking her neck softly. They had just poured the wine and each of them were holding a glass. Pam hadn't changed before leaving the club, and was wearing a deep red corset, with matching leather pants, and a lacy black jacket making the whole thing more sexual than it would've been had she been wearing the pink top and jeans she'd been wearing earlier.

All Eric saw was red when he saw Pam wrapped in Bill's arms. He wanted to destroy him for even thinking about touching what was his. All it took was a few quick strides over to the small couch, and briefly it crossed his mind that Pam probably hated this décor, he swiftly grabbed her up by the arm without so much as a comment, or question. Pam stood and followed without any prodding or command, and Eric was glad that the foolish girl was smart enough to at least know what was good for her.

Before they got out the door though the shock must've worn off of Compton, because he decided to open his fucking mouth: "What the hell do you think you're doing Eric? She's not a child she can do as she pleases, and if she wants to be here she sure as hell can be!" he said to Eric in that annoying drawl that made him want to slaughter the entirety of Bon Temps.

Eric dropped Pam's arm before stalking over to Bill with murder in his eyes, glaring at him for a solid minute before responding, "I can do what I damn well please. She's mine, and you should consider yourself lucky that I'm even going to allow you to live after touching her." With that he once again grabbed Pam and drug her back to his waiting car.

The ride back to Shreveport was a long one, and the tense silence was killing her he could tell that just by looking at her. He wanted to shake her, slap her, beat her, anything to make her hurt like she'd done to him. He knew though that the real reason she'd gone off with Bill was to get him back. He'd been hurting her for the last eighty years, and he knew that if he lived twelve thousand years he couldn't get back the last eighty, but he knew that he was damn well going to try. He needed her, and the Authority could go straight to hell, because they wouldn't keep him from her anymore.

Pam was shocked when Eric passed the club, and that only intensified when he passed the street leading to her house. She knew then he was taking her to his house, but couldn't begin to fathom, or hope, as to why he'd be taking her to his house. He pulled into the garage without a word and walked into the house. She quickly followed, and was almost shaking. The murder hadn't left his eyes, and he was keeping a tight grip on their bond so she couldn't feel a damn thing. She found him sitting in his chair in the living room with a glass of the bourbon he loved so much.

She took his ignoring of her as a chance to go to the room he'd given her in this house and change. Though it was him who'd insisted on her clothing at the club he never like to see her in the, as he put it, whore clothes. She opted out of a shower, and returned to Eric in pink track pants, and a white tank top. She'd also pulled her hair out of the top but she'd worn to the club. It was a quick change, and Eric hadn't even finished his first glass of bourbon by the time she'd returned.

She sat on his couch and watched him as he watch the fire going. The flames reflected in his eyes, and she was curious as to whether he was going to speak to her or not. Finally his intense gaze shifted to her and with a voice that was low, and emotionless he asked, "Do you want me to release you Pamela?"

That hadn't been what she'd expected and as the full meaning behind his words crushed down upon him he eyes became rimmed in red, "No, Eric please don't do that! It was a mistake a stupid mistake!"

His voice didn't have any new inflection, but his eyes were pained at seeing her tears: "Then why in Godric's name would I find you consorting with a man after I specifically told you you couldn't? More to the point why in the hell was that man Bill fucking Compton?"

Obeying like it was a command Pam answered, "Women don't even begin to compare. I couldn't keep just fucking woman. I wanted a man, even one who was a pale imitation of you. Why do you even care? You've got your stupid, gapped toothed, fait cunt, and now I've got Bill!"

She was shocked when not a second later Eric had her pressed fiercely against the wall with his body pinning her and his large hand around her throat. The menace in his eyes made the fire in hers die slightly, though not completely. Though was scared her most was the tone of voice when he spoke after several minutes of silence: "If you say his name again I'll release you without a second thought." His tone and voice both meant business.

Pam nodded slightly, and Eric slowly released her throat, but he didn't pull away from her body. She gazed up into his eyes with the same wonder she had nearly two centuries ago. He again brought his hand to her face, but this time he stroked the side of her face in the most intimate contact they'd had in decades. Finally she couldn't take anymore, and begged: "Eric if you won't kiss me let me go. I can't take this. You won't let me love anyone else, but you say you can't love me. I don't want this half-way life anymore Eric. I want to love and be loved, and if you can't, or won't, give me that I'll leave and find someone who will."

Again the fierceness came to Eric's eyes, but this time his voice was intense, "I'll never let you go Pam. I'd bring you back by your hair if you tried to leave me, don't think I wouldn't."

Pam knew he would. He'd done it before when she'd tried to leave, and being pulled from an airport by your hair was the most embarrassed she'd ever been. With a heavy sigh she looked at Eric, and his heart broke seeing her looking so vulnerable, "Pam I'd give anything to keep you safe. You know the Authority doesn't like makers and their progeny to be together. If that means you resent me so be it. I won't lose you Pamela."

"Damn it Eric! Don't hide behind that! You and I both know if it came to it you'd kill them all in a moment, and not even have to shower afterwards. Let me go or claim me, but make the decision tonight." Was her fiery retort, and it took him half a second to make his decision.

His lips molded into hers, and he crushed her to him with all the force and pent up frustration he had in his body. She lay beneath him in shock for a moment before responding, and moaned into his mouth as he held both of her dainty wrists in one large hand that was just the right size for her. She writhed against his erection as she felt his fangs click into place, and he began to suck her tongue into his mouth.

His other hand had worked with little resistance to rip her much too expensive clothing from her petite body, as his mouth and nose meet all the sensations about her he'd been trying to recreate. She was just as pliant under his hands as she'd always been. Like a small child to protect, but too beautiful to keep his hands off of her, yet when he smell Bill motherfucking Compton's scent on her he lost it. Before Pam could even begin to realize what was going on he'd freed himself from the constraints of his pants, and began pounding into her tight channel.

Pam could feel him in her throat, and could barely understand he was muttering to her in his native tongue. "Vem tillhör du? Berätta för mig nu och jag tänker inte hålla er som mina."

His words made her desperate, so she frantically replied with unrestrained lust in her voice, "I'm yours mitt kaxiga Viking, och du vet att jag alltid har varit."

With that he thrust into her with a force that sent her flying over the cliff and her fangs into his neck. The very sensation of her holding him in a vice grip caused him to begin his release while his fangs clutched the place he'd turned her all those years ago.

"Du skar måster aldrig lämnar min sida nu. Bäst att du är beredd på en evighet med denna gamla stöddiga Viking min kärlek." Was all he could say as they collapsed on the floor together.

Swedish Translations:

"Vem tillhör du? Berätta för mig nu och jag tänker inte hålla er som mina."-"Who's are you? Tell me now and I do not intend to give you as my. "

"I'm yours mitt kaxiga Viking, och du vet att jag alltid har varit."-"I'm yours my cocky Viking, and you know that I have always been."

"Du skar måster aldrig lämnar min sida nu. Bäst att du är beredd på en evighet med denna gamla stöddiga Viking min kärlek."- "You'll never leave my side now. You'd better be prepared for an eternity with this old cocky Viking my Love."

Couldn't get this out of my head, and it's was keeping my plot bunnies away for my other story… Review Little Nuggets.