Okay...I had mad writer's block for this chapter. College is a terrible, evil muse killer.

But it ended up longer than the others...so I guess it works out xD

Once again half the credit goes to Kiwi7. She contributed quite a bit to this one xD And kept me focused so I got it out in a semi-decent time frame.

Haha, Still love you guys, and there will be officially be an M chapter in the future, but not for awhile. These two have a lot of work to do before they get to that point. Since I really don't wanna do this like the TB writers did where we didn't even KNOW they slept together until Pam said that one line about screwing on the beach :3

Chapter 3: She is Mine~

"Wake up. Wake up. Wake up...For Fuck's sake Willa." Pam sighed despairingly, her patience wearing thin-as her vain attempts to rouse the young vampire proved to be for naught. She shook her again, more roughly this time, and was rewarded with a tired groan. It beguiled her how someone with heightened senses could manage to oversleep, but she'd be damned if the baby Vamp continued to languish in the older futon for another hour. Night had finally fallen and apprehension had been building in her mind ever since she woke from her light slumber. Every minute she was left alone with her thoughts was another minute for her anxiety to grow. For the last several hours, Pam had been obsessively agonizing over her impending reunion with her progeny. Tara wasn't going to be happy to see her-she was going to be pissed, and Pam wasn't looking forward to the imminent verbal onslaught that was bound to ensue this evening.

It was harrowing being drawn into a battle where she couldn't fight back, and she couldn't defend herself. Every word, every awful insidious thing that had been hovering on the edge of Tara's thoughts for the past two years-Pam just had to sit there and listen too. She had to remain silent in the face of righteous fury, because nothing she had to say was adequate. The same hellish feelings of loss, and abandonment that Eric had inflicted her with; she had inflicted her own progeny with-and now Tara was finally getting the satisfaction of divulging how hurt, and dejected, and fucking worthless Pam had made her feel.

In the two years Pam was gone, she was constantly assaulted by violent feelings of despair and longing. Tara's tumultuous emotions consumed their bond-and made it so very hard to focus on anything else. Every night she began to think less and less about Eric and more about the hardened woman she had left behind. To distract herself she began seeking solace in the arms of strangers-moving from one cold bed to another. Submerging her nights in pleasure and exotic company. She was never satiated though-and eventually she noticed a trend in the women she kept seducing: all of them looked like Tara. Every last one of them-shared the same basic features as her progeny.

When she wasn't engrossed in looking for Eric-she was constantly haunted by Tara's dark visage.

It became unbearable.

Before she could ignore the incessant feeling of tenderness that always came with Tara's name; she could keep her attachment to her progeny at bay because she cared for her; She wanted her-but she didn't need her. For over 100 years Pam hadn't needed anyone besides Eric.

She was slowly coming to the halting realization that things were different now.

She needed her progeny.

When she was with other women all she could see was Tara.

All she could taste was Tara.

All her body wanted was Tara.

It sickened her to allow anyone else into her bed, and after two years she stopped lying to herself.

Pursuing Eric became pointless.

She had absolute faith in her Maker's ability to stay alive.

Clearly the bastard didn't want to be found, and she was wasting precious time searching.

So instead of devoting herself to a fruitless cause for god knows how much longer-Pam came home to Louisiana-To Tara.

And now...

Tara didn't need her.

It was a rude awakening for Pam, because for the longest time she equated being safe with being unattainable. Being unattainable hadn't protected her from getting hurt, it had only buried her further in denial. Pam liked to pretend she didn't give a damn and she liked to fool people into thinking that she had an invulnerable persona- but most of the time Pam's attitude was an elaborate facade that had taken years to perfect. It was infuriating that 100 years hadn't done a damn thing for her. She still hid behind disdainful looks and biting comments. She still had an utterly pathetic emotional capacity when it came to sustaining the relationships in her life- and she still acted like she was beyond reproach when she was just as dysfunctional and inherently flawed as every other vampire

Getting bitch slapped by the universe, so she was forced to come down off of her pedestal was killing her. Slowly but surely decimating what little remained of her pride. The majority of her arrogance could be attributed to the brief span of time she was a human, and was only augmented when she became a vampire. Recently any reasons she might have to be proud had deserted her.

Seeing the fury in Tara's face-the utter betrayal, and disgust creasing her features-made Pam cognizant of one thing;

She had made a giant fucking mess of things.

Confronted by her unforgivable mistakes-and innumerable failures Pam felt distinctly out of her element. She was anywhere and everywhere on the emotional spectrum shifting from humbled; to ashamed; to furious; to guilty; to remorseful-to unimaginably repentant. No emotion lingered for too long, but the tempestuous tide of pure unadulterated feeling washing over her in waves-was drowning her, and Pam didn't know if she should swim or let herself drift seamlessly into the silent abyss.

She still wasn't convinced that trying to re-integrate herself into Tara's life was the right thing to do. She had walked away from her progeny without even a proper good bye two years ago, and she wasn't naive enough to believe that upon her return Tara would welcome her back with open arms. Her progeny wasn't that gracious. There wasn't a scorned woman on Earth that was that gracious.

Which is why tonight-Pam expected nothing pleasant.

Angry words.

Furious whispers.

A veiled threat or two...

Those were the least threatening reactions she could expect.

Honestly, the whole thing was a giant fucking joke that was destined to end badly. A low growl vellicated from within the confines of her throat and Pam glared down at the prone body sprawled haphazardly over a pile of clothes on the ground. Willa still refused to wake up...Pam had shaken her, loudly demeaned her, and threatened to set her on fire-and the girl had barely twitched. It was beyond comprehension that a vampire that can hear a rain drop from over one hundred feet away-can manage to sleep through loud clamoring and Pam's insistent prodding. Growing truly frustrated with the comatose brunette Pam voiced her frustration with violence-lashing out with a booted foot-and slamming a leathered toe into Willa's ribs.

The reaction was immediate.

The baby Vamp hissed in pain, rolling away from the offending foot like it had burned her. Blinking blearily, Willa curled into herself rubbing the sore spot till the pain faded. "What the hell is wrong with you?" The curled mass groaned, slowly unfurling to reveal the lithe form of a young woman.

Pam shook her head morosely. "Right now, you are what's wrong with me. Are you aware of how fucking ridiculous your sleeping schedule is?" She asked briskly, crossing her arms beneath her breasts as she peered down at Willa's half-awake expression. Grumbling darkly, Eric's second progeny rubbed the exhaustion from her eyes, sitting up with a grunt. Hair in disarray-clothes hideously wrinkled, and dried blood crusted along the edge of her lip- Willa appeared to be the walking dead. It was rare to encounter an immortal who still looked so comically decrepit when they awoke from their daily slumber.

"My god you're moody." The younger vampire groused unable to understand Pam's brusque attitude. She wasn't in a rush, and the antiquated idea that she should be an early riser based simply on principle-hadn't settled in for her yet. Gathering her tumultuous thoughts-the baby vampire suppressed a yawn. "We don't have a certain time we have to get there...and we have to stop by Tara's first anyways. I normally walk over to Jessica's with her." Willa murmured-trailing a hand through her unkempt mane as she spoke.

Pam's poor mood soured even further at the news.

She'd rather get hit with an HV bullet than torture herself by going to Tara's humble abode on the other side of town. It was one thing to endure Tara's heated glares while on neutral territory, but intruding in Tara's space while her progeny was living in that damnable shack she called a house-where that damnable mother of hers was living-was an idea that had no appeal for her. Pam despised Lettie Mae Thornton on a personal level, and she hadn't even had the unfortunate experience of meeting the woman."Fucking hell," She grumbled, addressing no one in particular.

Willa-who was finally lucid enough to hold a decent conversation, glanced up curiously at Pam. "What are you pissed about? Going to Tara's? ...Are you scared?"

Scared?

Pam snorted derisively, shifting her weight so Willa could see her frank look of disbelief. "Hardly." The older vampire drawled, a smirk creeping across her features. "But you should be. I doubt tonight will be the heartwarming reconciliation you have in mind." She informed the baby vamp-her tone flat and indiscernible. Her voice had lowered to her normal sardonic drawl, as she retreated behind her invulnerable mask. Scaring someone else shitless did wonders for Pam's mood-and she was in desperate need for a boost because truthfully she could feel a cold sliver of fear inching down her spine.

Fear of the unknown.

She didn't know if she could trust herself to play nice tonight.

She didn't know if being nice would even matter.

"Let's go Willa." She urged impatiently-shrugging into her leather jacket. The only way to conquer her trepidation; her fear of the future was to stop avoiding the problem, and right now every person with the name Thorton was a huge ass problem. It was going to be a grueling test of character interacting with Tara and her mother tonight. Pam was in a rush to finish the exhausting experience so she could compartmentalize the last few days-and lock tonight away in a steel case-never to see the light of day again.

Willa stood up from her self made bed of clothes, dusting herself off in an attempt to look presentable. Pam wasn't sure how Eric's second progeny managed to live in this damp-decaying building without any modern semblance of hygiene-and yet Willa didn't smell or look like someone who hadn't had the luxury of a shower in weeks. Willa's unsightly appearance was tempered by her body-that was still without blemish and her wrinkled-but not yet appalling wardrobe. Willa 's over all look was...tolerable. "Hold on one second." Eric's second progeny brushed past Pam-striding over to an old Victorian dresser.

Opening the top drawer-that had been onerously decorated with the most prominent carvings of the age-Willa withdrew an automatic hand gun and a case of cartridges. Even though the brunette wasn't facing her Pam could see the translucent glint of the bullets that Willa was loading into the gun, and her fangs protracted with a soft click. "What the fuck are you doing with those?" She demanded angrily, her glacier blue orbs fixed stalwartly on the automatic weapon pointed at the floor.

It was one thing for a human to carry a gun heavy laden with HV bullets.

But to see a vampire using the same cartridges that had helped oppress their entire species was unsettling.

Pam wasn't blind-she could see the practicality of it.

But it was the principle of thing.

Watching those fucking bullets engrave themselves in Tara's flesh had left Pam with a natural aversion to them. She hadn't forgotten the way her progeny had screamed and writhed in agony while she was observing helplessly from the sidelines-unable to do anything but hold her hand, and whisper sweet nuances to her.

Its okay baby. I'm here. It's okay.

It wasn't fucking okay.

Tara had been overwhelmed by her own anguish,, and Pam couldn't do a damn thing to assuage the misery she had been in.

The weapon Willa was haltering stirred up the self same feelings of uselessness and dread. Her hands clenched into trembling fists at her sides, and Pam took a deep steadying breath-affecting a mask of icy indifference that wasn't fooling anyone. Willa was staring at her like she had grown another head-unable to discern the reason behind Pam's aggravation. Talking carefully like one would to a rabid beast that refused to be soothed-Willa pointed to the gun haltered in her belt. "We all carry these; me, Tara, and Jessica. The vampire attacks happen 3 or 4 times a week so we needed some sort of leverage to even the playing field."

Pam shook her head slowly. "For fuck's sake." She murmured trying to come to terms with what Willa was saying.

Guns with HV bullets were hardly what she considered a first line of defense.

But she had to remember that things had changed.

In her absence-technology had evolved.

And although stakes were still an effective way of killing a vampire-a gun was more convenient.

Especially when human lives were hanging precariously in the balance.

"Let's just go." She breathed-her disdain for the human race growing in spades. They were the only species on the planet that were capable of convincing a vampire to discard traditional methods that still worked for lazy conventional methods that condemned their race even further. Metaphorically-Pam was going to be that one person that brings a "knife" to a gun fight.

Consequentially, that was usually the first person to die.

But to be fair her luck had run out a long time ago...

"Age before beauty Pam," Willa gestured grandly towards the heavy wooden door-allowing the older vampire to leave the condensed space of the warehouse first. Sending the smirking brunette a lethal glare, Tara's Maker grasped the damp handle tightly, almost splintering it with her strength, and removed the one barrier keeping them from the atramentous night waiting for them outside. Feeling the cool air blanketing the evening, Pam exhaled heavily as she took the first step into oblivion-leaving the safety of her storage space on the wharf for the ambiguous darkness layered over Bon Temps.

Willa trailed behind her.

Blissfully silent.

Consumed in her own world.

Which left Pam alone to contend with her thoughts.

Thoughts that were constantly revolving around the visible changes that had accumulated over the last two years. Sauntering through the empty streets at a vampire speed-gave Pam the opportunity to casually study her surroundings. While she was indisposed in another country- Bon Temps had decided to embrace innovation, and renovate some of the more outdated facilities that used to desecrate the town's image. Sole proprietors that had been struggling to stay afloat the last few years-had finally admitted defeat-and sold their businesses to lucrative companies. Mega stores that hadn't even been considered for an investment before had thrived in the face of the town's failing economy.

The vampire/human war had utterly destroyed the small business man, and made monstrous companies considerably richer.

It was hardly shocking news to Pam to see a plethora of new shops, and stores occupying space on Bon Temp's street corners.

Someone always profited from war.

She'd noticed that even Merlotte's was no longer Merlotte's.

The establishment had been re-named Bellefleur's...

After one of the deceased Bellefleur men perhaps?

It was food for thought. Both Andy and Terry Bellefleur had met an unfortunate demise in the last decade- and although Pam wasn't privy to knowing the men, personally or on a professional basis-she was still aware of the roles they used to play in Bon Temps. She had gathered a fair amount of information on Eric's behalf while he was the Sheriff-and he liked to be thorough. Their were a sparse few residents in this town-that Pam had studied at length. She could write a genealogy for them and trace their origins all the way back to whatever swampy shithole their ancestors crawled out of. The Bellefleurs were not among those select few people though, and she had virtually no interest in investigating how they suddenly came into possession of a bar that used to belong to Sam Merlotte.

Bellefleur's.

Merlotte's.

She didn't give two shits who that prosaic outhouse was named after.

It was all the same really.

Her concern wasn't in the existential changes that Bon Temps had allowed-it was the structural changes that bothered her-the social anomalies that were now inherent to the city. Even though her silent trek with Willa was coming to an end-Pam hadn't seen one person on the street tonight; not one human; not a dog; nothing with a viable pulse was stirring. Every avenue, boulevard, and highway that Pam had encountered was utterly dead.

Even to her heightened senses-it was eerily silent.

Like the entirety of Bon Temps was holding it's breath-waiting for some unspeakable terror to be unveiled.

Willa's hushed words surfaced in her thoughts. Most humans aren't allowed to go out at night without a vampire escort, and large gatherings of humans have been expressly forbidden when the sun sets. Apparently, that's like laying out an all you can eat buffet for destitute vampires. The previous night, when the younger vampire had alluded to a human curfew-Pam had been thinking in general terms-she didn't think that edict had been executed so militantly. Even the animals were determined to fade into obscurity. Secreting themselves in the darkest shadows, and burrowing in the most camouflaged shelters.

Perhaps she had underestimated the threat.

Vampires driven by ravenous hunger could pose a threat...

In numbers.

Frowning-Pam increased her pace as they reached the edge of the forest that circled around the austere neighborhood Tara was living in. Her progeny had been dealing with a more turbid problem than she originally thought, if her inference was accurate. Roaming vampires that held an advantage in large numbers were treacherous even to an aged vampire-and the odds of three baby vampires fairing well against such peril were slim...But Tara, Jessica, and Willa had been doing just that. For two years without any Maker's support-they had managed to stave off the throng of bloodthirsty beasts that were desperate for human sustenance.

Out of necessity, they stopped relying on their Makers.

To protect their humans.

And that's why Tara wasn't exactly thrilled to see her now. The night kissed woman had been through hell-protecting her mother. Protecting her friends.

And now Tara was protecting herself.

Well, fuck me.

Pam thought disparagingly, her azure gaze fixed on the Thorton's door as Willa strolled past her to ring the doorbell. Her fingers twitched, clenching and unclenching as she heard shuffling from within. She was justifiably worried about how well this insipid little meeting was going to go. Willa hadn't informed Tara that Pam was coming along. It wasn't the kind of surprise she would appreciate if the situation was reversed. But it was too late to back out now.

There was more shuffling behind the door, and Pam abruptly straightened as the rustic lock was jiggled open, and was immediately followed by the door groaning outwards. The last person she wanted to see stood staring back at the vampires on her porch with a wary expression. Framed in the lamplight from the house's interior, Lettie Mae's reed thin form filled the entrance way-and the dark skinned woman smiled hesitantly-her eyes trailing cautiously from Willa to Pam. "Willa hun, it's great to see you..." Tara's mother greeted the baby vampire- embracing her warmly-after staring for a moment too long. It was like Lettie had to mentally resign herself to touch Willa's disheveled form.

"Hey Mrs. T." Willa responded much more sincerely-returning the embrace without hesitation. Pam was revolted when the hug lasted longer than a second as if Willa was starved for human contact and maternal affection. Meanwhile, Lettie appeared to be hiding her distaste behind a plastic smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.

This soulless bitch...

The older vampire bit her lip to keep from voicing her crude observation and after all the nauseating formalities were out of the way, the women drew apart-and Tara's mother reluctantly turned her attention to Pam.

A suffocating amount of tension fermented between them.

Asphyxiating Lettie, and straining Pam-who wasn't pacified by the acrid scent of fear filling the air.

Pam was internally torn.

First of all, she instinctively despised this woman because Tara was hers not Lettie's. Her progeny may have been Lettie's daughter in life, but in death Lettie Mae Thornton had completely forsaken Tara. It wasn't Lettie that coerced her daughter out of the tanning bed when Tara was contemplating suicide; it wasn't Lettie that trained her progeny in vampire ettiquete-acclimating her to her vampiric nature; and it wasn't Lettie that willingly surrendered to the authority in Tara's place to ensure that the night kissed woman didn't die prematurely-that was Pam, and she didn't do any of that on a whim-she did that because she genuinely gave a damn about Tara. Where the hell was Lettie during any of those miserable experiences?

Pam wanted to dismember her for even thinking she had the right to claim Tara as her kin.

Tara's mother had waived all of her rights to be a mother at Fangtasia-three years ago. And it was amazingly convenient that the same moment that humans needed protection from stray vampires is the same moment that Lettie felt the need to redeem herself-and make up for every fucked up thing she had ever done to her daughter.

Pam was convinced that Lettie Mae was just reaping the benefits of Tara's loyalty.

And it was taking her to new heights of anger.

Willa cleared her throat awkwardly. "Mrs. T, this is Pam-Pam this is Mrs. T." She introduced them politely, oblivious to reason the clearing was drowning in tension. After swallowing heavily, Tara's mother found her voice, and began to speak tremulously-but was unable to hide the blatant fear in her eyes as she extended a hand out for Pam to shake.

"Evening Pam," The dark skinned woman greeted her.

Pam eyed the offered appendage contemptibly. "Not if you were the last human on earth." Pam drawled, folding her arms beneath her breasts. She was offended by the mere gesture, and could feel her temper flaring dangerously. Lettie's fabricated compassion insulted her intelligence-and she wouldn't be another recipient of her sad "redemption" ploy. Pam would do many things for Tara, but she wouldn't complacently accept a self serving bitch that was just using her progeny for her own benefit, and planned on discarding her later. Although, her decision could and would severely hurt her penance, and her chance at atonement. Resolving herself with a weary sigh, Pam glared unamusedly at Tara's mother. "Are you going to invite us in, or were you planning on conversing with us on the porch all evening?"

"Pam." Willa hissed, aghast at her callous behavior.

Tara's mother sputtered in surprise. "Oh Lord, I'm sorry. Come in Come in." The ebony skinned woman opened the door wider so they could enter, and Pam wordlessly surged past her into the house. Willa a step behind her. As soon as they entered the cramped space, Pam was surrounded by Tara's musky scent. However, it was faded-like her progeny had been gone for an hour or so. After tasting the air again for a more definitive read-Pam could conclude that Tara wasn't home right now.

Feeling a small measure of relief, that the uncomfortable meeting was going to be delayed for awhile longer Pam amused herself by examining the place her progeny called home. Studying the cracked plaster on the walls, and the stained floorboards-Pam couldn't help but be reminded of her brothel from over a century ago. When she had inherited the workspace, it had been deteriorating just like the house she was standing in. Only after an atrocious amount of work-had she been able to to reopen it as her own business. However the situation here differed from her own painful experience, Tara's house didn't need to be re-invented, it needed to be torn down.

This hovel was a fucking disaster.

"Sorry about her Mrs. T...she's been out of the loop for awhile, and she's in a pissy mood" Willa apologized for her, knowing damn well Pam wasn't feeling contrite for her words. "We just stopped by to pick up Tara. Do you know where she is?"

"Ah, you just missed her." Tara's mother replied helpfully, folding her hands together thoughtfully as she ruminated over her daughter's whereabouts. "She went out to hunt an hour ago. It's been awhile since she's had blood."

"Oh I se-"

"Wait..." Pam cut Willa off, unable to believe what she was hearing. Did she miss something? Wasn't the whole point of being in mutually beneficial relationship with a human, to offer protection in exchange for blood? Why the hell was Tara out hunting for blood if her mother had sworn to feed her? "Didn't Tara claim you as her human to protect?-why in the hell is she out hunting if you are her food source?"

Lettie hung her head in shame-to hide her expression, but Pam swore she saw a flicker of anger cross the aging woman's features. "I was offering her my blood for awhile, but...Last year...I had a stroke-so I began taking Warfarin which-"

"Is a god damn blood thinner." Pam finished the sentence for her flatly, equal measures of disgust and anger entering her tone. If a vampire feeds off of a human who has been medicated to have thin blood, the human is in danger of having a stroke, a heart attack, blood clots or something equally perturbing. Tara must have been exposed to any number of distressing issues concerning her mother's health, and made the impulsive decision to not feed off of Lettie. Putting her mother's health before her own.

In other words, Tara was choosing to protect her mother without expecting a fucking thing in return.

The older vampire chuckled hollowly, in a way that held very little amusement. "So...what you're telling me is that Tara is going to such great lengths to keep you alive, and in return you are useless in every sense of the word. She can't even rely on you for one damn thing. And in the end it doesn't matter anyways... because you're just using her for protection." Pam rationalized-staring coldly at the now fidgeting woman in front of her.

She was appalled at the absurdity of this situation.

Why was her progeny putting up with this shit?

Feeling indignant at Pam's words-Tara's mother shook her head vehemently, denying the chilling truth that Pam was accusing her of. "I love my daughter." Lettie Mae said fiercely, raising her voice for the first time since Pam and Willa had entered her home. "I did the best I could, till I couldn't anymore. What right do you have to come into my house, and tell me I'm guilty of anything? Who are you to judge me? You don't know me, or my daughter."

"Pam." Willa cautioned, stepping in between Lettie, and Tara's Maker.

She could practically feel Pam's temper boiling over.

Pam smiled, an icy sinister smile that made Tara's mother flinch violently. Stalking forward-feeling every inch the enraged, incensed, and undeniably malignant immortal that she was, she none-to-gently shoved Willa aside, her superior strength forcing the baby vamp out of her way so she was face to face with her antagonist. Moving with tantalizing slowness-Pam reached out with a hand, gently tracing the contours of Lettie's face- as the aging woman become utterly still. "Miss Lettie Mae Thornton," Pam purred, enunciating every syllable succinctly-her soft words more terrifying than if she had threatened to disembowel the ebony skinned woman herself. "I believe we may have misunderstood each other. I'm not a friend of Willa's. I'm not an acquaintance of Tara's. I'm the one-that turned your daughter into a vampire." Pam tapped the edge of her manicured nail against Lettie's cheek and Tara's mother inhaled sharply. "Tara is my progeny...and that gives me every fucking right to be pissed off at the person who came into my fucking bar and disowned her, and then conveniently discovered a conscience three years later when she needed protection from stray vampires." Pam drawled, her voice hardening with each sequential word that only added to her fury.

"Pam. Seriously-" Willa pleaded, her eyes wide at the imminent confrontation.

Pam snorted, not even sparing the younger vampire a glance. "What Willa?" She demanded impatiently.

"Goddamit Pam..." A new, and very familiar voice groused. Anger, exasperation, and annoyance that weren't her own filtered through the bond connecting her to Tara, and Pam's gaze slowly sidled over to the door where her newly arrived progeny was glaring heatedly at her. "Back the hell off my mother." The ebony skinned vampire husked out of clenched teeth, her stormy gaze fixated on the hand that was grasping Lettie's chin.

"As you wish." Pam sighed noisily, and released her steely grip on Tara's mother.

A disappointed expression ghosting across her face, as her quarry immediately rushed over to Tara.

She was going to receive hell for this.

She could feel it.

And yet she had no regrets.

Despite how pissed off her progeny was right now.

After drawing Lettie Mae away from Pam and making sure that her mother was okay, Tara scowled darkly at her Maker-saying four simple words that no person ever wanted directed at them.

"We need to talk."

I love drama :3

Kiwi said this was an evil cliffhanger? Was it? :o

Bwahaha What do you all think? Remember Reviews-even bad ones are like...aphrodisiac for a writer xD so leave your thoughts~ Next chapter will be up...soonish. I'm going to try to update every 4-7 days.