Stork & Owl
No.
It was a simple word that seemed to have immeasurable appeal to the baby vampire in Pam and Tara's care. There were days when the girl said no to everything, including the things she clearly wanted to say yes to. She would respond to greetings and goodbyes with no. She'd chant no and sing no. And on one peculiar occasion she named everyone and everything she came across no.
On the Sunday afternoon she was set to reunite with her human mother, the toddler said no to her breakfast B+, the bath Tara tried and failed to give her, and the outfit Pam picked out for her to wear.
Pam looked on from the comfort of a steamy shower as her partner did her best job to reason with their unreasonable ward.
"Don't you wanna to look nice to see mommy?"
Once again, the answer was a resounding no. Adding some dramatic flare to the declaration, the tot turned streaker scampered out of the bathroom, leaving nothing but tiny footprints and a damp towel in her wake.
Sat on the side of the bathtub, Tara took a deep breath and turned to her maker for input. Pam simply smiled at the exasperated young vampire through the foggy glass stall and shrugged.
It was 4:45 p.m. and they were scheduled to arrive at the halfway house by five thirty. Pam secretly hoped the brat would make them miss their visit with her antics. She was certainly doing her part to make them all late by taking a thirty minute long shower. The native Londoner wasn't just dreading the impending cluster fuck of a reunion. She was dreading the frigid November temperatures awaiting them outside. As a vampire, Pam relished the long nights of winter. She despised the cold, however.
As a human, Pam hated the season and its weather, full stop. The onslaught of cold temperatures signaled dark days and darker nights. Though the fall may have represented death, winter was the certainly a catalyst for it. As a child, she'd imagined it as a living thing, a monster that crept in through the windows and entryways of homes to leave all whom resided within ill with fever and flu. Those who escaped winter ailments were ultimately stricken with heartache.
She'd seen it happen.
Or at least she'd heard it happen. Pam was only a child then, barely older than eight. Her governess had seen to it that she be kept separate, under lock and key, from the rest of the afflicted household - quarantined, in essence. From behind a fastened door, she heard the whispers and tears of the household staff.
Her younger sibling Phillip, a boy of tender age and meek disposition with hair and coloring identical to hers had fallen gravely and irreversibly ill. She'd liked him well enough. Even though he was too small to play with, too young to talk to, and the reason their mother seldom paid her any attention - both before and after winter claimed him.
When the threat had passed and the linens burned, young Pamela was released from the genteel confinement of her room. She soon discovered that her once cheerful parents had been replaced by grim shadows of their former selves. Her childhood swiftly became buried beneath layers of frosty indifference.
Over one hundred and forty years later, the thought of them still left her cold. Pam stepped beneath the scorching spray of water in an effort to wash away her memories. It was to little avail. Shutting off the water abruptly, she gave up trying.
By five o'clock Pam was dressed and ready, which was more than she could say for anyone else in the house. She found Tara and Erica in the nursery. Her partner was still in her underwear, while her tiny adversary was wearing a t-shirt and shorts that had been put on backward and inside out.
In the midst of her high-stakes negotiation with the baby vamp to wear the ultramarine cashmere sweater and dark wool pants Pam had chosen for her, Tara was quickly losing patience.
"Sweetie," She began in her best stern voice. "I need you to listen."
"No."
Hearing Pam's amused snort from the doorway, Tara again turned to her for backup.
"Please tell this hardheaded child she can't wear shorts outside."
"If she wants to wear it, let her wear it."
"It's freezin' out there," Tara said incredulously.
"So she'll get some minor frostbite. It'll heal."
"You are so not gettin' any tonight."
"Okay. Okay," Pam responded, quickly giving in. "Go get dressed. I'll take it from here."
Tara fixed her partner with a skeptical look, but said nothing. Beating a hasty retreat from the dainty battleground, she left the two blondes to hash it out.
Ten minutes later, Pam descended the stairs with the baby vamp on her hip wearing the very same outfit Tara had tried and failed to dress her in, along with pink and white polka dot wellies, a yellow duffle coat, green hat, and orange mittens.
"I had to make a few concessions," Pam explained the toddler's clashing colors to Tara as she reached the front door.
Despite the stark differences in style and color, the trio looked strangely fitting together as they climbed out of the taxi in front of the home where Allison Fulbright was staying. Complimenting Tara's cream wrap dress, chocolate thigh length boots, gray puffer coat and straight shoulder length bob; Pam wore a slightly over sized ultramarine sweater, tight denim pants, black funnel neck coat, and let her long hair hang in loose waves.
Arriving on the doorstep of the halfway house, she could hear the dreadfully boring sound of polite conversation and forced laughter emanating from within. And from the corner of her eye she caught Erica burying her nose in Tara's coat, no doubt an attempt to block out the nauseating fumes of cooked meat wafting from inside. Tara did her best to soothe the child, but she looked as if she needed more comforting than anyone.
"Let's get this over with," Pam grumbled as she rang the doorbell.
"Coming," a disembodied voice called out from within moments before the door swung opened to reveal a young woman with remarkably familiar green eyes, relentlessly dyed jet-black hair, and a tentative smile. Her chest heaved as if she had been running. Words spilled from her mouth in a flurry as she saw her child for the first time in six months.
"You were telling the truth, then?"
In a quiet room, away from the sounds and smells of the dinner being held for the residents and their families, Pam and Tara sat side by side and watched as the baby vamp they'd so diligently cared for became reacquainted with the mother she hadn't seen since she'd first been turned.
The human laughed as her daughter tottered forward and eyed her tentatively.
"It's the hair. She ain't used to it being this dark," Allison explained with a smile. "C'mon, munchkin, come sit with me."
Slowly approaching her mother, the toddler smiled shyly before climbing up into her lap.
"Have you been a good girl?"
The baby vamp smiled impishly and nodded.
Pam rolled her eyes.
Just yesterday, the diminutive destroyer had four "uh ohs" – her cutesy terminology for ruining expensive things around the house accidentally on purpose - in a thirty minute span.
"She hasn't changed a bit," the human commented, melancholy tingeing her voice and expression. "Don't know why I imagined she'd be bigger."
"Uh oh," the toddler exclaimed loudly as the toy she was playing with broke. "I make boo boo," she continued, sounding vaguely surprised that she'd ripped the leg off her own doll. When her mother didn't respond, the baby vamp slid off her lap and pattered over to Tara.
"Oh no," Tara gasped dramatically. "What happened?"
"She got ouch," the girl answered in what was almost a dead ringer for English, conveniently neglecting to mention the fact that she inflicted the grave injury. "Hmm," She continued, practically shoving the doll in Tara's face.
Tara immediately took the doll and kissed it, in accordance with the ritual they'd developed whenever the girl imagined something or someone was sad or hurt.
"I know she done it," Allison stated quietly out of the blue, staring at the broken doll in her daughter's hands. "They ruled Moses's fall a suicide. The news reported that he was depressed, after recently losing his daughter. But I knew better. I knew he'd never leave Yon like that. He loved her. More than anythin', he loved her."
Pam's gaze turned dark as she caught the bitterness in the human's words.
"Mistakes happen," She replied coldly.
Allison laughed resentfully at the canned response.
"The biggest mistake was turnin' her in the first place. But she went bad so quick, and her father was so scared…"
Tara shifted uncomfortably. Pam didn't have to look at her progeny to know that she was remembering the sordid circumstances of her own turning. Saying nothing, she allowed her right hand to rest on Tara's left forearm.
"I didn't want this for her. I wanted to see her grow up, get married 'n all that. Have a life, not…this."
"She has a life. A good one." Pam drawled, her annoyance compelling her to speak. Feeling Tara's firm muscles tense beneath her hand, she paused to stop herself from insulting the human. "That we will happily continue to provide, long after yours has… well, expired."
The picture of a Southern lady, the blonde smiled equably after making her case.
"Are you takin' the piss? You want her to stay on with you?"
"We haven't exactly discussed it," Tara began, pausing to look at her partner.
"Yes," Pam said emphatically. "I think it's in the child's best interest that she remain among her own kind."
"She's my kid. I'll decide what's best, not some posh cunt," the human spat indignantly.
"Mind your manners, cupcake, I might get the right idea about you," Pam retorted smoothly, her expression intimidatingly smug. The perceptive vamp caught the glimmer of relief in the human's eyes at the prospect of being relieved from the monumental task of caring for the baby vampire. She knew the young woman's protests were less about her daughter and more about her own pride.
"Sod you, fanger!"
"Allison," Tara began in a menacingly low timbre before cupping the toddler's ears with her hands. "I realize this is tryin', but I'm gonna need you to watch yer fuckin' mouth."
Pam smirked and crossed her legs firmly, suddenly aroused by her progeny's forceful tone.
After removing Tara's hands from her ears, the toddler resumed playing with her broken doll. Edging forward in her seat, Tara continued speaking.
"The truth is your baby girl's been doin' great with us. She's happy. If there's anythang she needs, we make sure she has it. And believe me when I tell you - she needs a whole lot. If you can honestly say the same thang, then by all means, cut us out the equation. If not? All I can ask is that you do right by her."
Eyes darting between Tara's warm brown eyes and Pam's icy blue, the human finally settled her gaze on the floor. She remained silent for a spell, looking as if she was working up to a terrible confession.
"Help me to forget," Allison asked finally, her tone noticeably softer.
"Forget what?"
"This. Everything."
"Allison," Tara breathed, chuckling slightly in disbelief. "Even if she's stays with us, I can make sure you have a place in her life. You don't have to-"
"I want to," Allison interrupted, her voice eerily serene. "Could you do that for me?"
The couple turned almost immediately toward each other. Pam thought her progeny looked trapped, as if she'd been backed into a corner and menaced by the human's request. It seemed cruel somehow, violent even, to seek the erasure of all memory of the toddler's existence.
Inwardly, Pam wondered if her own human mother would have chosen to erase the memory of her children rather than live with the disappointment and anguish over what she and her brother did and didn't become.
"I'll do it," Pam volunteered, anticipating Tara's eventual refusal. Her lover had killed countless rogues in the short time since she'd been turned, but she knew better than anyone that Tara was incapable of killing an innocent. To the younger vampire, even the memory of them was worth sparing. "I'll meet you at home," She told Tara, passing her the massive baby bag that held the toddler's meals, toys and a spare outfit.
The human picked up her soon to be forgotten daughter and hugged her tightly while she buried her nose in the girl's soft kinky hair.
"I'm so sorry, munchkin," Allison said, wiping tears away as she attempted to put on a positive face for the toddler. "Be good for mummy, okay?"
"No," the toddler answered cheekily.
The response brought a small smile to Tara's face, but Pam could see she was still troubled by the human's request.
"C'mere, baby girl," Tara said, picking up the child who was reaching out to her from her mother's arms. "Let's go get your lunch ready."
" No no no," the toddler gibbered all the way out the room.
"You must think I'm a horrible mother," Allison spoke, breaking the unnerving silence that descended upon them after toddler's exit.
"I think you're human," Pam replied simply. "Now let's make this quick, I've got a feeding to get to."
"Wait," the human said suddenly, removing a diamond set platinum necklace from around her neck. "Her third birthday is due next Saturday. Will you make sure she gets this for me?"
Eternity, Pam scoffed internally while she examined the small infinity shaped pendant in her hand.
"I'll see to it that she never parts with it," She said honestly, lifting the human's chin until their eyes met. In them, she saw guilt, fear, and desperation. "Or us."
Wasting little time, the vampire pulled the young woman beneath the murky undercurrent of her influence and enveloped her memories in an unrelenting and impenetrable mist of falsehoods that would forever conceal the existence of the child she once loved so dearly.
When Pam finally arrived home, she fully expected to stumble upon a temper tantrum of epic proportions. She was ten minutes late for the baby vamp's second feeding. After her week long, Tara-less stay-at-home stint, the toddler pitched a fit every time Pam wasn't there for her meals. But instead of crying, she heard splashing water and the girl's laughter coming from the master bathroom upstairs.
Terrific, she's drowned Ginger.
Quickly making her way upstairs, Pam soon discovered her concerns were unfounded. The toddler sat in a half full claw tub of water, playing with a rubber frog on a tadpole and an assortment of other bath time floaties. Sat on the floor beside the tub in grey shorts and a purple tank top, Tara was reading a copy of "Between Parent and Child."
"Oh god, I just walked into a Norman Rockwell painting."
"Yeah, the non-existent one with all the black people," Tara shot back without taking her eyes off of the book.
Kicking off her heels, Pam approached the bathtub and sat along the rim.
"So how'd it go?"
"As well as can be expected. She wouldn't remember any of us if we passed her on the street," Pam answered matter-of-factly.
Tara nodded thoughtfully while she placed her book aside on the floor.
"You go bath," the toddler bellowed, in a piss poor rendition of an adult voice before dunking her rubber frog in the water mercilessly and holding it under.
"We're stuck with the little sociopath," Pam quipped, watching the baby vamp's antics. Without warning, she found herself swept off the tub and planted on Tara's lap.
"I know you didn't plan on this," Tara said seriously, wrapping her arms around Pam's slender waist.
"Didn't plan on you either," Pam volleyed before swiftly straddling her lover. "But here we are," She finished, snaking one hand beneath Tara's tank top as she palmed her breast with the other and kissed her teasingly.
"Mmm no," Tara protested against her partner's lips. "Yon's watching."
"Erica," Pam breathed, placing a kiss along Tara's jawline before moving to her neck. "Is too busy murdering her toys to care about anything we're doing."
Tara looked over at the girl, who was indeed in the midst of submerging a rubber ducky.
"Okay, you know what? We can't keep doin' this," Tara said, abruptly lifting Pam up and sitting her down across from her on the floor.
"Attemptin' to have a sex life?"
"No, calling her two names. We need to settle this."
"Fine," Pam agreed unhappily. "We'll call her Erica."
Tara frowned deeply at her maker.
"Okay," Pam conceded. "No Erica. But no Beyoncé either!"
"Alright, we'll come up with her name to-ge-ther," Tara asserted. "Somethin' relevant to who she is and what she likes."
Pam observed the blathering, golden-haired toddler and drew a big blank.
"Who is she and what does she like besides eating, sleeping, and breaking my shit?"
"Throwin' tantrums when she don't get her way, telling everybody no, shopping, wearin' crazy ass outfits," Tara began making a mental list. "The color pink…" She continued, trailing off as she noticed the alarming similarities between the baby and her partner.
"Pamela is a lovely name, isn't it?"
"Don't even go there, " Tara replied adamantly.
"We could always call her no," Pam offered dryly, missing the way Tara's eyes lit up soon after her suggestion.
"What about Nola?"
Pam thought about it for a moment. She'd spent three wonderful years in the Crescent city with Eric before he was named sheriff of Area 5. It was her kind of city. Lively. Nice music. Nicer strippers. Still, it wasn't exactly the name she envisioned for the little girl she always knew she never wanted.
"New Orleans was the first place I ever lived outside of Bon Temps," Tara mused aloud. "Got my first place, made a decent livin' for the first time, realized I like girls…met Naomi."
Naomi…Naomi. Why did that name sound so familiar?
"You tried to kill her," Tara reminded her pondering lover tersely. "Ran 'er outta Bon Temps acting like a psychotic bi-"
"Ah yes," Pam exclaimed, remembering Tara's comely ex-girlfriend.
Though she'd long since expressed her regret about the brutal game of cat and mouse she and Tara played all those years ago, she never did apologize for driving Tara's former lover away and, well, attempting to slaughter her.
This was largely due to the fact that she wasn't that sorry about it.
Pam had seen something in Tara when they first locked eyes. Never mind that it was over the barrel of Tara's gun. Something about the scrappy human incensed the blaze already raging inside of her. And had she recognized why that was back then, she would have promptly glamoured her girlfriend and put her on a one-way trip to Antarctica to get her out of the way.
"So?"
Tara's voice brought Pam back to their current naming predicament.
"Nola," Pam spoke the name gently, testing the sound of it on her tongue while peering at the bathing toddler to whom she had inexplicably become a mother. "It's got a nice ring to it," She said finally in the most nonchalant manner possible.
Tara looked unabashedly pleased as she leaned forward for a kiss. She stopped a breath away from her lover's mouth and murmured.
"You are so gettin' some tonight."
Finito(the story tho, not the series). This episode was brought to you by the letters W, T, and F, a 10 year old workhorse of a compaq with an ancient 60 gig fujitsu HD, my rage toward everything apple, a trip to the apple store, a beautiful and kindhearted genius, a free replacement charger, the pirate bay, a backup drive, amazon prime, a not free new hard drive, snacks, my clumsy little fingers, that one TV on the Radio song (see: the title of this chapter), and last but not least reviewers like you!
Oh yeah...Beyoncérica has a new name! And two mommies. Let me know what you think about these startling new developments 0_O
Hope ya'll enjoyed it :)