Eric was talking about Sookie – again. Neither of them were the type to ramble. But Eric often ran through plans with her and she always listened intently, waiting for her part to come into play. Tonight, however, Pam sat on Eric's office sofa; head reclined to the back cushion as she stared absent-mindedly at the ceiling. His words slipped in one ear and out the other, only catching a few key phrases here and there. How sick and tired of hearing about Miss fucking Stackhouse was she exactly? More than she could express in words. Eric was a strategist. He was logical, keeping his emotions out of the mix so they wouldn't affect his decision making. All of those characteristics seemed to blow away with the wind when that telepathic waitress stepped foot into Fangtasia. Now, it's all he thought about - how to make her submit to him or what she'll taste like when she does.
Somewhere along the course of the conversation Eric asked her a question. A question Pam didn't catch, having been far more interested in diagnosing the exact color of the ceiling (she had settled on eggshell) or how the vent's bottom right bolt was ever so slightly unscrewed or anything other than his voice really.
"Pam." Eric spoke loudenough to break her daze, obvious aggravation lacing his tone. "I was talking to you."
Picking her head up from the back of the sofa, Pam met his gaze. "I'm sure it was riveting." When his face got a 'you're-pushing-it' look to it, she rolled her eyes. "Fine, you were saying?" Any attempts at sounding vaguely fascinated were defeated by heavy doses of unmasked sarcasm.
He continued, regardless, choosing to ignore her unruliness. "You need to find a day-walker to guard Sookie's house while the sun is out."
"I need to find? Since when is she my problem or my responsibility for that matter?" Pam asked incredulously.
Eric's patience was growing thin rapidly. "She's not your problem but you are mine."
The tightening of Pam's jaw was the only indication she was hurt by his remark. These days it seemed like she did nothing right. Sookie could slap Eric, snap at Eric, do just about anything and he would find her all the more alluring. Pam took a phone number down wrong and her credit card was taken away. She wouldn't stoop so low as to call him out on playing favorites but it was what it was. The fact that he would treat a woman he had known for a year and a half (a year of which she had been M.I.A. in some fairy world or another) with such respect and kindness but then turn around and merely call commands and all but ignore his child of over a century, well, that was anything but comforting knowledge. If she were honest, even with herself, it hurt. Naturally, Pam kept these feelings to herself expect for the blatant dislike of Eric's current infatuation.
"Nothing but the best. We wouldn't want anyone spilling her precious pixie dust or scratching a fragile fairy wing. Oh, no, that would be heinous." The words might as well have been a snarl by the venom underneath her sugary tone.
"Pam, if you ever want that credit card back you'll hold your tongue." His anger at her disobedience and disorderly behavior was evident on his face and in his threat.
Surprisingly, Pam disregarded the comment on the credit card and continued speaking despite his warning. "After all, she is your fairy princess."
Eric stilled for a moment before straightening, crossing his arms, and just looking at her. A minute or two passed while the tension grew in Pam's mind. She thought he might strike her. She had gone too far. This silence was uncommon and highly disconcerting.
The thoughts rushing around in Pam's mind became clearer in Eric's. He searched their bond, finding her insecurities and plucking through them. She could feel him inside her head, sifting around, but didn't know why.
Suddenly, Eric's blank stare turned to a somewhat taken aback expression mixed with what seemed like regret. "Pam, Sookie may be my Fairy Princess -"
She rolled her eyes before he could finish the statement. When he admitted Sookie was his little pixie princess she all but gagged. "But you will always be my Vampire Queen."
Her eyes shot up, her attention suddenly and effectively grabbed. That certainly wasn't what she'd expected. Though there was a humorous undertone, Pam could hear the sincerity in his words clear as day. She suddenly felt foolish for believing Eric would place someone so short-lived above her. Then again, it wasn't as if he gave her any clues to the contrary. All the same, she should have known better. Trying to mask the doubts she had placed on their relationship, Pam shrugged, looking away. "I know." She came off blasé, as if the fact had been clear from the start and there was never an uncertainty or qualm to dispute it. Of course, the relief and appreciation that flooded through her body was not absent from their bond.
Eric smirked "So, you weren't jealous?"
"Of course not" Pam turned to look at herself in the mirror, she held her hands slightly above her head as if something were there that he couldn't see. "I'd look good in a crown, don't you think?" Her head cocked to the side as she contemplated it.
Suddenly, Eric was behind her, looking over her shoulder to his child's reflection. "You have a throne. A crown would be over kill."
"No," Pam corrected, spinning around to poke his chest. "You have a throne. I have a seat next to your throne."
"Which is where Queen's-" Eric went to defend himself but her eyebrow shot up at his attempt. Instead, Eric gave a defeated sigh "We'll go to Tiffany's tomorrow night. But you are not sitting on my throne." He added the last sentence as if it made him sound authoritative after he had given into her.
The smile that came across Pam's face made the surrender worthwhile. She clapped her fingers together lightly but rapidly. "Deal!" The smile faded from her face as she looked at him sincerely and said "Thank you." That's all she needed to say and that's all he needed to hear. They knew where they stood.