A/N: So the inspiration behind this story came from the song 'If You Don't Know Me By Now'. It'll probably be a two-shot or a three-shot. Usually I write fluffy things for our favorite couple but we all know it ain't real if there is no discord. As always I ask you drop a line or two to let me know what you think because reviews do give writers motivation. Happy Reading!
Pam easily dodged the bottle of alcohol that was thrown at her. It shattered against the wall, the contents rolling indolently down the plaster to join the broken glass and puddle of cognac on the floor. She snarled menacingly at her enraged progeny who was reaching for another bottle. "Put it the fuck down Tara before you spend the rest of eternity without your hands."
"Yeah, go ahead," the ebony skinned vampire seethed, egging her Maker on shamelessly, "You like tossin' around threats don't you? See if you can make good on 'em this time." She threw the bottle, harder than she had thrown the last one but this time Pam knocked it away, breaking it mid-air, and sending the pieces flying to land like crystalline razor snowflakes somewhere on the dance floor.
She vamp sped towards Tara in a blurring motion too quick for a human's eye to catch and wrapped a pale hand around a dark throat, squeezing with the strength of a vice grip and lifting her Child off of the floor so that she had to look up to look her in the eye. It was the first time they had been in this position since that night in Fangtasia all those years ago. There had been ice in Pam's cerulean glare then, cold and numb. But tonight there was nothing but pain and smoldering rage.
"Seems as if we're having a little trouble with our memory. Let me fix that," Pam drawled on a leathal purr, "I made you, darling. I can destroy you just as fucking easily."
Despite the pressure on her throat Tara chuckled mirthlessly, her own obsidian eyes matching the hurt and fire in her Maker's. "You sound just like Lettie Mae. Maybe you should hit me to add injury to insult. Go ahead." The words were raspy and dripped with a dark hatred that Pam hadn't heard in years.
It shocked her enough that she released her hold on her lover and stepped away. "You dare to compare me to that bitch?" she growled, her fangs bared and even Tara felt a flash of terror go through her before she remembered her own anger.
"If the fucking shoe fits, huh?"
"Fuck you Tara! Fuck you." Someone who knew the blonde as well Tara did knew that the words were being spoken around tears and this time it was a flash of guilt that shot through her.
Pam didn't allow her tears to fall. She turned and sped out of the bar, out of the club. The door slamming shut behind her rivaled that of gunfire as she took flight into the dead of the night leaving Tara on the floor behind the bar, gasping as the bond between them shut down.
How did things come to this, she wondered. What had started off as an argument, the topic of which now rendered completely and utterly irrelevant, had grown more and more heated until things basically and quite literally exploded. She cast her own tear filled obsidian eyes at the carnage. Two broken bottles of liquor, a couple of bar stools. But the main casualty seemed to be suffered by her heart. Why couldn't she just learn to chill? It would have saved her a whole heap of trouble many times during her human life. But after becoming a vampire it seemed as if her temper had become just as strong as the rest of her. And now it had cost her more than she could ever spend. She was left wondering, even as she cried bitterly, if Pam would return or if she had somehow irrevocably damaged things between them.
She screamed, a primal guttural sound that came from her soul full of pain and self rage.