An hour and forty five minutes later….

"Kill me."

Tara's head lowered as the rancid smell of Harold's breath invaded her bubble of personal space. The rotund fence was a vampire that enjoyed ancient and exotic things. Tara had known him for eight years and she trusted him even less now that she knew him.

"Where's the fun in that?"

He whined his voice considerably high for a man. She ground her jaws from the irritating sound. She cursed her bright idea and talk to Harold. The thin haired vampire didn't like to talk not when there was an alternative. Tara wasn't protected by her employer's reputation anymore.

"What was I thinking?"

"You were thinking this was going to be painful and quick. But I don't like to do anything hurried. I could miss things. I want you at the peak to feel the pain. I know you're little secret," a tongue came out and lined the edge of her ear in wet. "You look good for what are you? Fifty eight? Maybe a few years older," he studied the line of her eyes.

"I've been lying about my age for years," she grumbled, "but that's a stretch even for me."

"I've got you're blond girlfriend in the next room. Milton's talking to her."

Tara left her head lowered as she glared at the ground made of stone.

"You know what that means," the fence teased.

"That you're a sorry motherfucker who isn't going to live to see another night?" Tara answered brightly, hoping she could make it happen.

"No…no…no…nice try though."

"In a few second she going to be screaming that pretty little head off."

He turned his ear to the door as if he had orchestrated it and timing the screams to fit his introduction.

"Ow ow it hurt it hurts," Pam droned lazily. Her voice had a slight echo from the room.

Harold picked his head up and turned to the shadow in the opening of his office.

"Milton!" he cried out. No answer.

Pam came menacingly. Dots of blood were splattered on the left side of her face and neck, there was nothing to indicate in her demeanor that the blood was even hers. He drew his wide frame up from Tara's kneeling form.

"You're a stupid bitch, what are you doing here?"

Pam didn't look at her, "I'm saving your ass."

Tara spit blood on the floor, "I got em right where I want him."

"Sure you do," the blond deadpanned indulgently, "let her go."

"Or what?"

"Or you'll go on the same vacation I sent Milton. The wet and permanent kind," she threatened stalking closer.

The attractive club owner had had a bad feeling about the pink neon lights and the shady surroundings of the Chesty Treasure, her face folded as the establishments named yelled tacky and cheap. She agreed to go in because she didn't trust Tara to let her out of her sight. Unfortunately, she was manhandled by association and found herself in a room similar to this with a metal door just like the one she walked passed. Except her host was a thin man with an overbite and large perpetually surprised eyes.

"She's an opportunist," Harold threw in. "Not even a real immortal if you take away what keeps her alive." A fat hand went into his breast pocket dropping the amulet on the ground.

Tara's eyes widened.

Harold's smile widened. "Harold, there was several stupid things you did tonight. You sent guys after me, you pissed her off and," she nodded toward Pam. "You took and tortured me. The list goes on, do yourself a favor and don't crush that amulet."

He sniffed in the air. His smile mocking, "Is that fear I smell?"

Pam tilted her head to Tara. It wasn't fear. It was something else.

Tara looked at his wantonly. Chained to the wall, there was nothing she could do except struggle as his foot lowered to the amulet. She worked at the chains on her wrist, but to no avail. He pressed harder and she felt the amulet crack. She lurched. Her back hit the wall her breathing becoming labored.

Pam turned her whole body to Tara now Harold in her peripheral.

The larger man was fascinated by Tara's reaction and killed her. He was a sucker when it came to all things in the category of pain and torture. He smiled at his foot lowered harder this time cracking it all the way through.

"Shit," she squeezed her eyes shut. "Get out!" she screamed. Her eyes looked over at Pam pleadingly. "Get the fuck out!" she yelled violently.

A long life had prepared her for the strange things in life most humans don't live long enough to be aware of. Harold focused on his game was blind to a few key facts that were unfolding in front of him. Pam didn't have to be particularly perceptive to notice Tara was changing. Her heart beat was speeding too fast for a human even if they were immortal.

The dark skinned woman while in pain warned Pam again. The blond inched closer to the door, but she didn't remover herself from the room entirely she couldn't. Tara pulled at the chains and little by little she was breaking them from the wall. Harold crushed the amulet to pieces. Tara cried out in pain freeing herself, but falling over from her own momentum. She didn't stay down for long. She landed on her shoulder and rolled over and up until she pulled the tightened the chain so hard around Harold's neck it squeezed off.

Blood splattered on her and then she looked up at Pam, who unconsciously stepped backward when Tara's eyes landed on her.

"Tara," she sped toward the blond with speed Pam only associated with a vampire. She pushed Pam against the wall her hands pressing her against it by her shoulders. "What the fuck are you doing? Get the fuck off of me." Pam tried to push her off and away, but she couldn't move. Surprised by Tara's strength she put more effort in escaping and still she wasn't strong enough.

"What the fuck are you?"

Tara leaned in with feral eyes and stare straight in the blue depths that made her very curious about woman. "I've always liked your eyes," she stated.

"Thank you," Pam answered.

Tara dropped her. She dropped the few inches back to the ground and straightened up her hair as she walked away from the immortal. The gleam of her ring shined catching Tara's attention. Her hand reached out and held on to the wrist pulling Pam to her. They were inches apart a few strands of hair fell into the blonds face when she was rushed forward so abruptly. Her mouth parted as she studied Tara since the immortal was preoccupied with the ring on her finger.

She seemed focused, more focused than usual on the most minute details. Something was off and it started when Harold crushed the amulet.

"Pam?" the dark haired woman's gaze lingered on the ring before she dragged them to the blond tilted her head as if she were remembering something. She saw the identical ring on her finger. "We're married."

Pam tried to pull away, but Tara was too strong and she wouldn't let her.

Just when she was about to correct her they heard noises from the upper levels. "We need to go," Pam looked around the room for another way out.

"Where?"

"Anywhere."

Tara looked around the room blankly. The room was dark with a desk and chains littering the far wall. "Why?"

"Because they are going to fucking kill us Tara."

"Us?" Then the words sank in, "I wouldn't let anyone kill you," Tara declared.

Pam turned to the most determined look she ever had directed toward her specifically. "You won't huh?" She stepped away from Tara needing some space. "How do you propose we get out of here?"

"The front door," Tara said as a matter of fact.

Tara closed and locked the door behind her leaving Pam to glare at it blankly until she heard the gunshots from the other side. Screams were quick and short lived overpowered by the succession of automatic weapons firing. She tried the door, but it wouldn't budge. She stepped back and wondered what the hell was happening on the other side. It sounded like war, when it actually should have been over by now. And when she thought the unseen carnage wouldn't end she heard it. The click of the door opening on the other side, she was ready to pounce on an enemy and when she leapt Tara caught her holding her close. Bloodied and hurt, but well enough to pull Pam too her. She gave the blond a slow kiss that Pam was too shocked to return.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx xxxxxxxxx

Just as Tara promised they walked through the front door.

Lafayette sat in the car where they left him in the car listening to Shaka Khan's 'through the fire'. Pam held Tara close to her ignoring the strange looks the bloody pair was receiving. Lafayette beat the palm of his hand on the steering wheel as he sang back up for the diva.

He didn't notice them struggling in the parking lot. It wasn't until he saw two shadows at the passenger side door did he notice they were outside.

"What the fuck happened to you bitches?"

Pam pulled the passenger seat up guiding Tara in and then following after her. She studied the woman's wounds and then met Lafayette's astounded gaze.

"O shit, Tara you bleeding."

Tara looked down at her wound Pam was inspecting. She wasn't healing. She had super strength an enlarged ego, but no super healing. She sat back in her seat.

"She needs to go to a hospital," Pam hated to say, but Tara had rejected her blood when she tried to give it to her to heal.

"You can't give her you're blood?"

"I tried."

"And she's still dying!" she screamed from the back seat frustrated she couldn't help the dark haired woman. She liked Tara, there was something charming about the human. She wouldn't admit to out loud however she wouldn't mind if it slipped if it helped the relative stranger. They were sitting in a parking lot. "Drive," she ordered.

One last look of concern directed to his cousin and he started the car following the flow of traffic. Pam's phone began to buzz in the center of the car console, "answer it," she told Lafayette. Tara had moved into her lap mesmerized by the rings on their fingers.

"I told you I wouldn't let them hurt you."

"It was fucking stupid."

Tara looked passed her hands to the woman's face, "no."

"You're bleeding to death so yea, it was fucking stupid."

"We walked out the front door and you're not hurt," Tara answered as if it was the only thing that mattered.

"It's for you?" Lafayette interrupted holding the phone out for her to take.

"Who the fuck is this?"

"You haven't seen me in over two three decades. Is that how you greet your maker?"

"Eric," she whispered.