A/N: Hello to my wonderful, wonderful readers. Well, here it is, the end of the road. This is the eight and final cahpter of Revamped. Thank you all so much for taking this journey with me, for your support, your kind words and your loyalty. I truly, truly appreciate it. I want to give a special shout out to MimiFictionBitch, WhatHurtsMetheMost, and kriddee. You guys are marvelous. Without further ado, the conclusion to Revamped.

Happy reading!

It was like a choreographed dance. Tara round house kicked Carmen, sending her flying backward, blood splattering from a broken jaw and the loss of three teeth. Naomi ducked out of the way of the first punch aimed her way but Tara caught her with the following left hook which also sent her reeling backwards, crashing into a stack of wooden crates, landing like a ragdoll. The men forgot Pam as they charged the ebony skinned vampire like two red faced bulls but Tara caught them both, nearly decapitating Remy with a powerful clothesline and snapping Louis' femur in half with low kick.

"Fuckin' idiot," she growled in a low and dangerously, shattering the bones in Remy's outstretched hand with a heavy, booted stomp before vamp speeding to her Maker.

"Well, well, well," Pam crooned, positively brimming with pride as she eyed the incapacitated humans, two of whom had been knocked unconscious, the other two screaming like stuck pigs, "I suppose I should monitor what you watch on television during your breaks from now on. Those Xena reruns are having quite the influence on you."

"Shut the hell up bitch," Tara muttered though potent relief and concern laced the words as she went with her first instinct to peel the silver out of Pam's flesh with her bare hands. She couldn't help the sharp yelp of pain that escaped her lips as she went for the chains that bound her Maker's pale wrists.

"Don't," Pam chastised, wincing as the sharp pain lit up her own hands, "Take your shirt off and use it to protect your hands."

Tara did as she was told and quickly had Pam unbound who left her hands to her progeny's face, tilting Tara's head this way and that, inspecting the temporary scarring left by the silver chains to make sure that they were healing properly.

"Are you all right?"

Her progeny nodded slowly but in reality her head was all fucked up. How did things even get here. She looked back at the sprawled out humans. Remy's yells had quieted to whimpers and what sounded like prayers in Creole. Louis had passed out from the pain. Carmen was stirring and Naomi hadn't moved. When she had been living in New Orleans during the trying time in her life after Franklin and after Sookie had disappeared, these had been her second family She had loved these guys and they had almost killed her. Granted, they hadn't been trying to purposely deliver unto her the True Death, but the thought of Pam dying right here tonight nd then going on made no damn sense. Yes the blonde was infuriating, yes they had their ups and downs but she loved Pam. She just wanted her Maker to love her back.

"Hey," Pam murmured softly, her eyes narrowing with concern, "Are you good?"

"I'm good," said Tara turning back to the older vampire, "What are we gonna do about them though?"

"I got several ideas about that and it all involves scattering various body parts from Lake Pontchartrain to the Gulf of Mexico."

Tara shook her head, "Naw we can't do that. Remy's got a three year old boy at home and Carmen's momma's dyin' of cancer."

Pam arched a perfectly manicured brow of incredulity. "What?"

"Please, let's glamour 'em or somethin'."

Pam couldn't believe what she was hearing. Well she could, but she didn't like it. Had it been Eric they're would have been no questions asked for the four humans would have been drained and dismembered already. But Tara was different. She didn't possess the same thirst for blood the way Pam and her Viking Maker did. Tara did kill when warranted. Her progeny was a very efficient sharp shooter. And her fighting skills would put Bruce Lee to shame. But she wasn't cruel, she wasn't ruthless.

And she loved Naomi.

"Fine," Pam murmured uncharacteristically softly, "You glamour the girls and I'll handle them," she nodded at the men.

"Thank you," Tara said and the relief that burst through the bond hurt worse than the silver chains.

~()~()~()~

It was fifteen minutes to four by the time they reached Fangtasia Revamped. Pam had been surprisingly quiet for the entire journey home but Tara's thoughts were elsewhere too, choosing instead to focus on what they had left back in that warehouse. She sat at the empty bar with her head in her hands unable to tear her thoughts away from all that had happened from her receiving Naomi's text to now and how differently things could have played out. She was relieved. She and her Maker had managed to get out safely, save for a few silver burns that had fully healed by now and she'd managed to keep her hands clean. She knew Pam was sore about not being able to let her vampire nature take over but Tara couldn't live for eternity with mortal blood on her hands. She just couldn't. Mentally. The war had been different. It was kill or be killed but glamouring the four back at the gym had yielded the same result. Naomi would never come looking for her again because in her head, Tara Mae Thorton and Toni Dandridge never existed.

She and Pam could live out the rest of their years in peace, until of course the next crazed ex lover came hobbling in their bar. But of course they would be ready to handle that. Together.

Thinking of her blonde Maker, Tara's eyes roved around the bar. Where was Pam? It had been a good twenty, thirty minutes since they'd gotten home. She had sauntered off but still hadn't come back up. Tara consulted the bond, feeling for her Maker and froze.

Pam was crying. Tara knew from the heavy weight she felt in the center of her chest that almost made her own eyes well with blood. The stillness in the air was thick and the baby vampire couldn't help but feel uneasy.

"Pam?" She called out, jumping up from the bar, "Where you at?"

She headed down to where their sleeping quarters were and heard the shower running. Tara turned left to enter their large luxurious bathroom and that's where she found her Maker, perched on the edge of their Jacuzzi style bathtub in a white cotton bathrobe, her hair damp from the shower, blood tears rolling down her alabaster cheeks, ragged sobs causing her shoulders to rise and fall.

Tara was at her side in a heartbeat, sinking to her knees at Pam's feet. "What happened?" she asked, her voice tight with concern, brows furrowed, "Why're you cryin'? What's wrong?"

Pam's response was nothing but more gut wrenching sobs that struck Tara like sledgehammer blows to the heart. She had never seen her Maker so broken and she didn't know what to do or how to fix it but knew that she had to do something even if it took her an eternity to do so. And that was how she knew the magnitude of the love she felt for Pamela Swynford de Beaufort was far greater than she had thought. She had never loved anyone more. Not even Sookie and she had taken a bullet to the head for the fairy. It wasn't unlike the 'I'm going to throw myself in the line of fire to sacrifice myself for you because I feel like I owe it to you kind of love' but was mingled with the 'I would hunt down anyone who dares bring nothing but smiles to your face and dismember them with my bear hands before draining their limbless body dry' and the 'my life could never feel complete without you in it as life without you would be death incarnate'. Her love for Pam outweighed every other emotion, need, and desire in her being and she slammed all of that into the bond, waiting for that moment when the typhoon of emotions struck.

Pam stopped crying. Her cerulean eyes rimmed with drying crimson shot up to meet her progeny's obsidian gaze, the expression floundering within those pools of sapphire was almost childlike – a look of mingled hope and caution. "But I felt you," she murmured, her voice gone two octaves higher in her emotional distress, "I felt you kiss her. I felt your desire for her. I felt your love for her."

"Did it feel anything like what you're feeling right now?"

Pam shook her head slowly, placing a hand over the center of her chest where the bond hummed between her and Tara, vibrating with the love Tara had sent through the invisible wires of connection. "Not at all."

"My love for Naomi was almost superficial. She was my first connection outside of Bon Temps and gave me something to cling to against the unfamiliarity of New Orleans. But now, I realize I finally do have a home and it's right here. With you. That is, if you sure you want me."

Pam let out a helpless sob at the confession. Damn it, she hated crying but she couldn't help it. She had been stupid all this time. "You're fucking crazy Tara Thornton," she murmured tearfully, a soft chuckle escaping her pouty lips, "You're crazy to love me."

Tara shook her head and reached out to thumb away her Maker's fallen tears, "Then I guess I'm insane and you know what? I don't give a fuck."

She wrapped her ebony sculpted arms around Pam's slender waist and pulled her Maker to her. The blonde resisted at first but the look in her progeny's eyes caused all the tension to melt from her limbs. She settled in Tara's strong arms, tucking her face in the crook between her chin and shoulders and sighed as more tears threatened to fall.

"I would hold you forever."

The line was familiar as it hit Pam's ears. It was what Tara had uttered that night on the beach, the night they had escaped the Authority's headquarters. This time however, Pam didn't chide her with a rebuff. She smiled softly and slid an alabaster finger down a muscularly lean forearm that had been kissed by midnight sending her own tidal wave love crashing through the bond, feeling Tara shudder as it hit home and the relieve that followed in on love's heels.

"And I would let you."

FIN