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Chapter one:

"You seem uptight."

Pam turned and eyed her maker in a mixture of annoyance and confusion. The year was 1969, New Year's to be exact. Tonight they would prey upon the intoxicated-perhaps not the most tasteful of choices, but it left for much to consume as parties were prevalent this sort of holiday. But while they waited for a later time, now they were stuck surrounded by several families and their young children enjoying the fireworks. Pam snorted, folding her arms rather tightly over her chest.

"I don't like children," she muttered, frowning as a nearby boy stumbled past her, an index finger wedged up his nostril. "Didn't as a human, still don't now. Disgusting, whinny...plus, with a figure like mine, maternity would never suit."

Eric scoffed, looking out into the distance. "Your previous career never managed to..."

"No," Pam said firmly, eyes fixated on the bright blast of a red firework. "And even if it had, I would have terminated immediately. Ladies of the evening have their ways."

"Touching," the viking mused, glancing at his progeny out of the corner of his eye. "And yet disappointing. I suppose I'll never be the grandfather to a progeny."

Now it was her turn to scoff, "Not unless you make another vampire." She muttered.

"Hm..." Eric hummed, sizing his partner up. "What a tempting idea."

Pam raised her eyebrows, "You wouldn't."

Eric was silent for a moment, his blue eyes flickering with a hint of mischievousness. "The night is still young," he commented, eyeing the sky. "Care to join me for an evening fuck?"

She grinned, her teeth glinting in the pale light of the moon. "Gladly."

Pam kept her head held high as she walked towards the stone structure, ignoring the squirming coming from within her abdomen. Usually it slept during this time of day-something she was grateful for as that was when she did her activities. But for the past few nights, something was upsetting him/her/it. She didn't care what pronoun it was. This wasn't her child and she wasn't its mother as far as she was concerned.

As she entered the building, she could not help but recall the first time she had felt it move. Out of instinct, she had called out for Eric when something nudged from within her womb. Fear, concern, she remembered sitting there with a hand pressed to the spot, ready for whatever creature to burst out of her. It didn't. And as the weeks went on, the movements grew stronger. A part of Pam felt as if maybe it even got excited at the sound of her voice. This sickened her. Frightened her. But without Eric by her side, she wasn't going to concern herself with anything involving it until he had returned.

"I don't understand," a young girl muttered as she walked past Pam. "He won't drink my blood."

But that was the least of the female vampire's concerns as her eyes fell upon the ragged, shell of himself figure reclining in the chair. Deep black veins traveled up the center of his chest, sprouting out every which way like a tree without leaves. She stiffened, deep red tears forming against the whites of her eyes as his head turned to meet her gaze. At first, Eric Northman watched Pam with almost a sympathetic stare. As if he knew that his decision in death would pain her far more than anything else in this world. That he knew he was guilty of this pain and he was very, terribly sorry. But it was then that his fixation changed, his stare falling to the swollen middle of his progeny. Alertness seemed to flood back to his limp form, chest rising with an unneeded breath.

"Pam?"

"Fuck you," she hissed, unable to hide the tears that slid down her cheeks. "Did you...did you contract the virus on purpose?"

When he opened his mouth, she held up her hand. He would be too weak to insert his authority-especially if he hadn't had any blood. "No," she growled. "My condition is not important. Do-do you realize how long I've been looking for you? Dammit Eric, I thought you were dead! Since our bond was broken, I couldn't feel...I couldn't..." She sniffed, the noise wet and awful as she smudge away her bloody tears. "Fuck you, Eric Northman. Fuck you a hundred times over you ungrateful, undeserving-"

"Pamela," Eric repeated, the sternness in his voice taking his progeny back a little. "What happened to you?"

And she laughed. A heartless, sorrowful chuckle. "Isn't it obvious, Eric?" She said with bemusement. "That damn governor's experiment worked. I'm fucking pregnant with some fucking...thing and you've been gone for six months and I..." She swallowed, inhaling as the fetus nudged her particularly hard. "It looks like you finally get to become that grandfather you spoke about." She inhaled again, however this time the words that escaped from her lips were fearful. "It's alive, Eric...I...I can feel it moving... It's alive and..."

"We'll figure this out," Eric said, standing before Pam could stop him. "We'll figure this out. I won't let you-"

"Die?" Pam finished humorlessly. "Like what you plan to do to yourself? Way to be a fucking hero, Eric. Way-"

Suddenly, she had her arms around him, holding him in a tight embrace. But when he let out a silent hiss of pain, she quickly released her hold and stepped back, even more ruby tears spilling down her cheeks. "Sorry," she whispered. "I'm sorry. I..."

She felt Eric's cool fingertips underneath her chin as he tilted her face up to meet his gaze. "It will be okay," he soothed, pulling her into a gentle embrace. "I won't let anything happen to you. I promise... Even if it's the last thing I ever do..."