A/N: Another one-shot centered around our favorite canon couple. Takes place approximately one year after the events of Season 5. Fangtasia has been reopened and things have returned to normal, more or less. Enjoy!


Pamela Swynford de Beaufort was vexed, stewing in her irritation even as she maintained her composed mask of indifference, seated upon her Maker's throne amidst the crowd of patrons in Fangtasia Revamped. Her cerulean blue gaze was trained on the bar where her progeny tended to the alcoholic needs of their guests. She took in the flawless ebony hue of her lover's skin and the tumble of jet black waves that fell around her lean though powerful shoulders. Her features had been expertly crafted to perfection from her doe like brown eyes wherein could contain a warmth that rivaled the sun or could harness the chilling cold of winter, to her plump mocha dusted lips.

Those lips were currently curved upward into a coy smile, a pink tongue darting out to coquettishly swipe at the denominator of the pillowy fraction. Pam's superior hearing caught the sharp peal of giggles that rang out from the bar and her sharp eyes fell on a curly head that was tossed back amidst the throes of more pings of mirth that spilled from a thin rouge painted mouth. Pam scowled. Her progeny was a natural flirt and didn't have to try very hard to have the bar damn near swooning at her feet. Sometimes, however, the idolizing zest could border on obsessive and the haze of alcohol didn't help at all.

"C'mon girl, one night with me and you won't remember your own name," a pale stocky man with a buzz cut growled. At a glance one could tell he was vampire though his words were slurred giving off an intoxicated state that was result of feeding off an inebriated human.

Tara's brown gaze went positively mercurial as she regarded the patron with a withering look of mingled repulsion and annoyance. Gone was the flirtatiousness and amusement that had graced her face mere moments before as the air around her seemed to frizzle with unseen energy. Any species of intelligent life form would have sensed the warning and if they valued their existence would have backed down. "Oh naw," she replied, setting a bottled of True Blood B – in front of the vampire, "that there don't sound too appealing but I appreciate the offer."

She turned to walk away but a thick, pale hand shot out and wrapped itself around her ebony wrist, the strength and pressure behind the vice-like grasp attesting to the years its owner had over the bartender.

"I suggest you rethink said offer."

That one sentence coupled with offensive action was all the incentive Pam needed to react. Vamp speeding off of Eric's throne with the force of an F5 tornado, she was at the bar in a heartbeat, a dainty deceptively strong hand wrapped around the offending vampire's throat, heaving him off of the barstool and into the air. "And I suggest you take that True Blood to go or you'll learning to drink it without a face." Pam's voice had gone well below its normal register, coming out in a lethal purr. The vampire's eyes widened as he made a futile grab at the blonde's hand, his cowardly pleas choked around the hold on his throat. With one last sadistically malicious look, Pam unceremoniously dropped the swine on his fat ass.

"Get the fuck outta my bar."

The scene had momentarily commanded total attention but with the quick departure of the bumbling idiot who had been fool enough to provoke the ire of the owner, the night resumed in full swing. Pam turned glacial eyes to her progeny who was outright glaring at her, anger and irritation running through the bond from both sides. "Ginger!" Pam shouted, evoking a sharp squeak from somewhere to right of her. The slim, fake platinum blonde human all but bounced to her mistress, eyes wide and glassy.

"Yes, Pam?"

"Tend this bar. I need a moment alone with my darling progeny." Pam's gaze shot over to Tara, "You. Over here. Now."

After a year together, Pam and Tara had quickly gotten to know what pushed the other's proverbial buttons and the blonde knew her Child didn't take to kindly to being treated like one, but at that moment she truly did not care.

Just as expected Tara didn't budge, merely regarded Pam with that unwavering heated look. In return, Pam arched a perfectly manicured brow and cleared her throat. "As your Maker I – "

"Don't you fucking dare. I comin'."

As soon as the door to the office was shut with a resounding bang, Tara rounded on her Maker. "What in the hell did you do that for? I can handle myself at my own damn bar just fine. I do it every night. I've had plenty practice with pervs, jerks, and assholes and I've kicked ass for a living. That piece of shit just caught me off guard is all."

Pam scowled as she regarded her incensed progeny, all of the vexation she had pent up all night lacing her words, "I don't like anyone touching what is mine," she growled.

Tara's lip curled up into a sneer. "Why don't you just piss on me then so anyone who don't know it already can see that I am yours."

The blonde snarled viciously and vamp sped toward the dark skinned vampire, pinning her against the wall.

"That mouth of yours is getting real reckless especially considering the fact that this is all your fault."

"Excuse me," Tara scoffed, "My fault how exactly? I didn't ask that motherfucker to grab me up the way he did."

"What the fuck do you expect is gonna happen when you go batting those pretty lashes at anything that moves Tara."

The ebony skinned vampire's burnt sienna eyes softened and a smirk tugged at the corners of her lips at Pam's words. "Aww," she murmured, "Jealousy looks kinda good on you."

"What the fuck are you talking about," Pam snapped, though most of the fire in her tone had been extinguished by the expression on Tara's face. Once again her progeny was proving to be far more intuitive than Pam gave her credit for. "I am not jealous."

"Uh-huh, sure," Tara snorted, her eyes doing a roundabout in her head before landing on Pam's full, pouty lips, "We can play that game again if you want but I think it's fucking sexy."

"If I broke a goddamn nail you'd think it was fucking sexy," Pam drawled through a smile that was hiding in her cerulean blues.

"Guilty," her Child countered easily with a devilish smirk and sent a rogue wave of arousal crashing through their bond. Pam's reaction was deliciously instantaneous – her pupils dilated, lashes fluttering as her eyes rolled back in her head, a soft gasp escaped the confines of her bee-stung lips, her fangs dropping with a sharp, resounding click.

"Mhm," Tara crooned lowly, her fingers tracing patterns over quivering alabaster skin, pulling the blonde to her and effectively closing the hairsbreadth of distance between herself and her Maker, "There them pretty things are."

"Shameless flirt," Pam muttered, her accent slipping slightly through the exasperated words that were followed by a heady moan when Tara's lips grazed her pulse point.

"Guilty again." She drew her Maker's bottom lip between her teeth suckling on the plump flesh, catching the lusty sigh that fell from Pam's parted mouth, taking the opportunity to deepen the kiss. Pam took control of the kiss with a growl, her hands tangling themselves in her progeny's silken, raven colored tresses as she attacked her mouth with greed shot through with thrumming possession. It was Tara who broke the contact with a sharp gasp, chest heaving with unnecessary pants of air, fangs bared and ready. She chuckled.

"You don't gotta get vexed every time I turn a head, baby. And when I play along it's just for the sake of sellin' drinks," she drew a soft caress down a lily white cheek, "I only want you. Forever and always."

Pam arched a brow with a smirk, thoroughly appeased by Tara's confession, and took a step back, "You had better," she griped, "Now, get back to work before Ginger sends those slackjawed yokels to the hills and puts us outta business.

Tara snorted and headed for the door, her Maker following suite.