AN: I've never written for True Blood before and it's been a long time since I've even watched the show. This doesn't follow with anything I remember. A friend suggested I try writing this pairing and so here we are.

The leaves don't even rustle as she moves through the dense woods. They move with the wind, bend as animals pass by them, but not when Tara slinks through them. Tara is different now. She moves like water, like a shadow, silent, stone still when she needs to be, lurking.

She's a creature now.

The thought used to terrify her. Now it's intoxicating.

She sees the young doe in a clearing up ahead. It grazes quietly, it's ears twitching this way and that as it listens for approaching enemies.

She can't help but smile, her lips slowly creeping up, she feels the pull of muscle in her face and a tension building in her body. She knows she's going to kill the deer, drain it's blood and nothing can stop her. Her hands grip at the tree trunk she's hiding behind, her nails digging into the soft bark. She could rip the tree in half if she wanted, shed it of all it's bark so quickly.

She understands it now, how being one of these things can be...intoxicating. Now that the blood lust has cooled in her and she can focus on being more than her appetites. Everything feels different, smells different, everything feels weaker under her touch or gaze. The proud oak she hides behind would once take so much effort to think about tearing down but now...

And people. Oh people.

Walking meals as her Maker calls them, blood bags, animals. She used to be one. She remembers that, she remembers it clearly and how strong she felt sometimes.

It's nothing to how she feels now. She feels powerful all the time and when the blood courses through her...she feels damn near invincible.

Still, she remembers being one of them and can't bring herself to eat anyone.

So she's stuck hunting for deer. Pam says it won't work. That it will feel like she's eating, but Tara's stomach and body and mind will begin to feel weak and empty soon. A deer isn't human. A deer isn't the true blood she needs.

And don't even get Tara started on that bottled shit the humans try to pass off as blood.

The deer takes a few steps forward and Tara's body tenses again, ready, she will drink it's blood and it will be better than human blood. She's better than that, she is, she...

The feeling starts somewhere deep inside of her she never knew she had before. It builds slowly, she can feel the warmth of it spreading through her, making her tingle. Calling out for her return, for her to come, obey, it feels gentle, tugging at the strings of her heart as it grows.

Pam.

She shakes her head and stands up straighter, adjusting her jacket. The deer hears her movements and bolts deep into the woods.

Tara scoffs, tenses her body and runs so fast that everything becomes a blur.

/

She pushes past the people waiting in line at Fangtasia and elbows the bouncer out of the way when he simply stands and glares down at her.

"Seriously, Raul? You know who I am," she snaps at him as she heaves the big door open and slips inside.

The bar is especially full tonight. There are humans and vampires milling about the floor, some dancing, some talking, some looking around helplessly.

The smell of human blood hits Tara so hard it makes her body freeze, tense, the need, hunger bubbling deep inside of her. Her mind reels, she stumbles back against the wall, her eyes wide. She feels wild, feels the intense hunger growing, her fingernails rake against the wall behind her and she doesn't give a fuck if it leaves a mark, even though she knows Pam will have her head.

Pam.

The pull comes again, stronger, deeper. She moves and doesn't even realize it. She tries to keep her eyes focused in front of her, moving towards the back of the building, the door right beside the bar that leads to the private offices and storage rooms. She knows Pam is back there waiting for her.

That thought is enough to urge her legs forward, moving faster. She slips between the crowds of people like water, her body turning, moving, as graceful as a dancer. A feeling she never knew before but felt so second nature now – to be graceful. She wonders how she ever walked before without falling every few feet.

She pushes past the door, down a long hallway and turns right, pushing open the first door she comes into view with. She doesn't knock.

Pam is sitting at the desk, leaning back, her leather boot-clad foot resting on the edge of the desk.

The pull Tara felt disappears, it's replaced by a warm, almost giddy feeling. "I'm here," she says unnecessarily.

"I can see that," Pam drawls in her sickly-sweet southern twang.

It's only then that Tara notices the other person in the room with them. A young woman sits across the desk from Pam, her upper body turned to look at Tara. She smiles slightly, Tara can read the fear and excitement in her eyes. She wears a simple black dress, exposing just enough skin to make Tara's eyes wander. Her dark hair is pulled back in a loose bun, her green eyes never leave Tara.

"Tara," Pam says, letting her leg fall and then rising to her feet. "This is Sara," she moves around the desk to sit on the edge and touch Sara's shoulder.

The action sends an odd jolt through Tara and her eyes shoot up to meet Pam's face. She's wearing that sly smile to which Tara has grown accustomed.

"How sweet is that, Tara and Sara," Pam says, offering a small chuckle deep in her throat.

Tara flexes her fingers. "What the hell is the point?"

Sara's eyes flick downwards, then back up to Tara who feels rooted to the spot.

"Well," Pam begins, reaching up to undo the bun in Sara's hair. "Sara and I have been talking about your...plight."

Tara knows by the way she says the word that Pam is picking them carefully.

"My plight?" Tara asks putting a hand on her hips, shifting her weight. She glances from the lightly shivering girl sitting in the chair, up to her Maker who is wearing a very dark grin. "You want me to eat her?"

"No, I want you to drink her blood," Pam says with a frown, her hand moving quickly away from the girl, crossing her arms over her chest.

"I told you I ain't eating no damn humans," Tara says loudly. Her temper is rising in her, her rage that Pam never hears her, never takes her seriously.

"You will die if you don't eat," Pam says in a firm voice that makes Tara shiver.

She hates herself for that weakness she can't help but have with Pam. "Good. I didn't want to be a goddamn vampire anyway."

Tara doesn't see Pam move, she feels the wind gush past her face, she feels Pam's strong grip around her neck, she feels the odd warmth from Pam's cold body being so close to hers. Their eyes lock. "And I don't give a good goddamn what you want," Pam says in her slow, molasses voice.

It feels like syrup sliding down Tara's scalp. She shivers again, harder, her hand on Pam's wrist, holding, even though there's no air to squeeze from Tara's body. If she could just hold onto Pam for a second...

"I am your Maker and you will eat as I command you to," Pam growls in her face. "Sara!"

The girls stands up quickly with a soft whimper. "Yes ma'am?"

"Come here, child," Pam says, her voice softer towards the shaking human girl.

As Sara steps forward, Pam's hand falls from Tara's throat. Tara's body relaxes, she touches her neck gently and watches as Pam takes Sara's hand and moves her small body between them. Pam's fingers gently brush the hair from Sara's neck, exposing pale, pulsing flesh.

"Sara doesn't mind, as long as you don't kill her," Pam says with a wide, sick smile.

The girl's body tenses and Tara's eyes widen, fear bubbling gently inside of her. It isn't fear like when she was a human. It feels like an afterthought, something she will feel regardless, but doesn't pay any mind or attention. Fear can't rule her now.

"Shhh," Pam coos, stroking the young girls neck, one finger tracing up and down. Tara's eyes watch every movement. She licks her lips. "That's why I'm here, to keep you alive."

Tara doesn't say a word, her body takes a step forward, she's only a few inches from the girl now. She hisses, her fangs visible, coming out on their own accord. It makes her ill, that she wants to feed, that she needs it. Resisting only makes her feel weaker, her body pushing forward to obey Pam's inevitable command.

"Come on little vampire," Pam says in a soft voice that Tara can't figure out if she's using to mock her or not. "Eat for mama."

Tara's hands grab the girls arms hard, pinning them to her side. Sara whimpers and it drives Tara mad, her fangs sink into flesh like it's soft as butter. Tara groans as the first warm trickle enters her mouth. It tastes sweeter than anything she's ever had, honey, her mothers hot cakes, chocolate. The warmth fills her body, makes her quiver, makes her growl deep in her throat.

She can hear Pam, saying words or making noises, but her brain can't process anything except the warmth that's slowly spreading throughout her body.

"That's it, do as you're told," she can barely make out Pam saying. "You're mine."

The words break something in her. She bites harder and Sara cries out loudly. Tara's hands leave Sara's arms and grip Pam who is standing so close behind the girl, pulling all three of their bodies together. She opens her eyes and looks up to see Pam looking down at her, lips parted, eyes wide with...was it shock or anger?

She sucks harder at Sara and feels it then, the shift in the girl, the way her body weakens to the point of not being able to stand, her soft whimpers become shaking breaths.

"Tara, enough," Pam says.

Tara grips harder.

"Tara, I command you to stop," Pam snaps, pulling away from Tara's grip. "As your Maker." The words slide off her tongue.

The pull begins so strong in Tara that she stops almost immediately, releasing the girl and catching her before her frail body hits the ground. She lowers her down gently, still holding Sara in her arms. Her sense of self finally seeping back into her. "I'm sorry," she mumbles, stroking the young girls neck. She licks her lips, taking in the last remnants of Sara's blood.

"Don't be sorry, Tara," Pam says, crossing behind the desk and taking a seat. Tara watches as she pulls a checkbook out of a drawer and begins to write quickly. "You're a superior being."

"I don't want to be a monster," she says, helping Sara to her feet. The girl wobbles on unsteady legs.

"Too bad," Pam snaps, ripping the check from the book and moving back to Sara.

"For your trouble," she says, handing the girl the check and moving towards the door to open it and show their guest out.

"Wait," Tara says, grabbing Sara's hand. The girl looks at her, fearfully. "Thank you," Tara says slowly. She opens her mouth and presses the tip of her pointer finger against her fang until skin breaks.

"What are you doing?" Sara nearly shouts as Tara moves the bleeding finger towards Sara's neck.

"Shut up, it'll help," Tara says, losing the gentle tone in her voice. She dabs the bite marks with her finger until she sees the wounds begin to heal up. "All better."

Sara touches her neck hesitantly and watches Tara for a moment. She opens her mouth to say something when suddenly Pam is there.

Tara can feel the energy seeping off of Pam as the older vampire locks eyes with the young girl. "You won't remember any of this tomorrow, do you understand me? You take your check, cash it first thing in the morning and use it to pay off your silly college books or your grandmothers hip, whatever you want. But you won't remember any of this. Do you understand?"

"Yes," Sara says, her body slack, her eyes wide and focused on Pam and only Pam, as if Tara doesn't exist, as if the world outside of Pam's eyes doesn't exist.

The thought sends a swooping feeling through Tara's veins.

"Yes what?" Pam drawls.

"Yes ma'am."

"Good girl," she says smiling sweetly and leading Sara her out the door.

Tara watches closely. She wants to learn to glamor, she wonders when Pam will teach her. She wonders when Pam will teach her anything. She flexes her fingers and jogs in place for a second. Her body feels new, bold, powerful. She could run anywhere faster than anyone, could climb any mountain, could rip someone limb from limb...

"What the hell was that, Tara?" Pam snaps as soon as the door slams shut.

"What?" Tara snaps back, the smile fading from her face, the energy still pulsing through her, pulsing like Sara's blood pulses just behind that thin layer of smooth, soft skin. She licks her lips.

"I told you, our ways are secret. We don't need people knowing the blood heals. You know that, I have told you that over and over, Tara." She moves across the room to her desk, standing behind it, arms crossed.

"I was just trying to help," Tara says, ignoring Pam for the most part, focusing on this new energy. She just wants to run or hunt or fuck. Her eyes jump up to Pam at the thought, she remembers how Pam's lips parted just so when Tara's hands gripped her body hard.

"What?" Pam says, eyebrows furrowing as she watches Tara stare.

"Why did you call for me?"

"I wanted you to eat," Pam says, still standing, still glaring.

"You paid a human with your own money to let me feed off of them but not kill them?" Tara crosses her own arms, weight shifting from one foot to the other. "Do I look stupid? What do you want from me?"

"First of all," Pam says, moving around the desk. "You do look stupid to me and secondly," she uncrosses her arms and touches Tara's cheek with one perfectly manicured finger. "I am your Maker, that means I have to make sure you don't die or Eric will..."

"Fuck Eric," Tara says sharply.

She feels it again, the hand on her jaw, gripping hard, making her bones ache. "Don't," Pam says quietly, her fangs out to match Tara's.

They stand like that, Pam gripping just below Tara's jaw, Tara's hands holding Pam's wrist. Their eyes locked.

The feeling boils over in Tara. She pulls Pam's hand away from her throat, Pam's eye widening as Tara overpowers her. "What do you..."

"Shut up," Tara says before pressing her lips hard against Pam's. The resistance leaves Pam so quickly that Tara wraps her arms around her body to keep her from falling to the floor. Pam makes a soft noise that Tara swallows up and makes her body burn hot.

She knows the heat isn't there, it's in her brain or in her blood, that their bodies are ice cold but as she presses closer to Pam and slides her tongue deep into her Maker's mouth, she's almost certain they're both on fire.

She can feel Pam's hand gripping her body, holding them close together, feel the need as Pam presses herself to Tara, as she surrenders herself to Tara's every touch and pull and deep kiss. "Tara," she whispers into the kiss.

It's enough to make Tara lightheaded as her blood pumps faster inside of her. The human blood pulses through her making her come alive or is it Pam's tongue and Pam's touch and Pam's sweet whimpers that makes the heat between her legs unbearable.

"Yes ma'am," Tara replies as her lips move along Pam's jaw, down her Maker's neck.

The moan she gets in reply makes Tara smile and push Pam's body back towards her desk. Her hands slide down Pam's back, gripping her ass before lifting her onto the desk, pushing the papers and pens and other random objects out of her way. She hears them clatter to the floor and glances up quickly to see if Pam's face has changed.

It hasn't, her lips are parted again, eyes half-lidded. Pam's hands slide up into Tara's hair and Tara's body aches for more, aches for touch, aches for Pam.

Her hands move to push the short leather jacket Pam is wearing off her shoulders, feeling her Maker's fingers leaving her hair, making her whimper, showing her own need. She fears she's made a mistake, letting Pam hear her own need but Pam's finger move back into Tara's hair, pulling, keeping her close.

Tara's fingers fumble with the tight corset Pam chose to wear while she ran Fangtasia for the night. Tara makes sure her lips never leave skin as they kiss behind Pam's ear. Her lips sucking as she kisses lower, biting where neck and shoulder meet. The small pants and moans and whispers of Tara's name on Pam's sweet lips is enough to make Tara's hands shake and her body tremble.

"Fuck," she growls, foregoing trying to undo the complicated garment.

She rips at the strings and expensive leather, tearing the clothes from Pam's body. She knows there will be hell to pay later, she'll have to dance extra hours in the bar, run the most obnoxious errands and get saddled with the most menial of tasks that Pam can think of but she can't seem to give a fuck about any of that when Pam's smooth, soft skin is so exposed to her.

She kisses down her collarbones, quickly, desperate to taste more of her Maker.

"What a desperate, needy little girl we are," Pam says in a deep voice.

"Yes ma'am," Tara repeats, her eyes looking up to meet Pam's.

Her fingers find the clasp to Pam's pants as her lips find her right nipple.

Pam's back arches, she groans loudly, her hips push forward and Tara's tongue lick slowly, deliberately, circling pink, hardening flesh. She growls as Pam's fingernails dig into her scalp, but the pain hurts so good that she presses on. Her lips kiss across the soft valley between Pam's breast. Her fingers slide up to cup Pam's right breast now that the clasp is undone at Pam's waist.

Tara feels the need so strong in her it makes her dizzy. The strength and blood pulses through her, spurring her on. Her lips pull at the other nipple and Pam cries out, whimpering.

But she wants more, needs more. Her hands travel down to the hem of leather, pulling. Pam lifts herself off the desk so Tara can slide the tight pants off, revealing a pair of lace panties that try Tara's patience.

They fall to the floor quickly in two pieces.

Consequences be damned, she needs this.

A lot of things work differently when you're a vampire. Lust is one of those things. It haunts her like her hunger for human blood. She craves it like she craves life.

And when Pam is around she craves it harder, deeper.

Her lips slide down Pam's flat stomach, covering her in open mouthed kisses. The skin is soft and sweet and Tara is more than happy to continue to kiss lower and lower. She feels muscle spasm under every soft brush of her lips. She can smell Pam already and the thought that Pam is just as needy for Tara as Tara is for her makes Tara's body quake.

She falls to her knees, her hands on Pam's legs gripping, her lips sucking at her soft inner thigh, tasting just a hint of her wetness and making her groan.

Tara can feel Pam trembling under her, feel Pam's body leaning back to expose more of herself to Tara. She glances up to see a quivering Pam looking down at her, lust and need painted so clearly on her beautiful Maker's face. Pam opens her mouth to say something and Tara kisses her clit.

Whatever Pam was going to say is lost in a long, appreciative moan.

"Yes," Pam whimpers, her right hand burying in Tara's hair, keeping the younger vampire close to her.

Tara kisses Pam's wet lips, moaning herself as she tastes Pam for the first time. Spiced honey. A taste she's never known but already has a deep hunger for. Her lips pull gently at Pam, sucking every bit of the sweetness she can. She groans against Pam as she lowers her head, tilting so she can push her tongue inside. Pam cries out, something inaudible as Tara's tongue works in her. Tara reels. She's completely surrounded by Pam, her flesh, her scent, her pull at Tara's hair. She pulls away, the flat of her tongue licks from the source and slowly back up to her clit, causing another low moan to radiate through Pam's body.

"God," Pam whimpers, nails biting into skin.

Tara grips smooth thighs harder, pulling her Maker closer. She sucks at Pam's clit again, tugging gently, lavishing Pam with her quick tongue. Her right hand slides low, between Pam's legs and Tara glances up to see the reaction she gets as she slides two fingers deep inside.

Pam's hips buck forward, her head falling back. Her moans become higher pitched whimpers that don't stop. Pam's body rocks with every little movement of Tara's tongue and fingers.

Tara shakes with her own need. She can feel heat and wet warmth on her own inner thighs...

"Oh fuck," Pam says as Tara's fingers move.

Tara works quickly inside of Pam. The heat of her is overwhelming and the taste drives Tara wild. The closeness of being surrounded by her, feeling the hard exterior fall away from Pam, being allowed to see the softness, the surrender and the need makes her work harder. Being the one to provide what Pam needs is intoxicating. Every shiver and moan and movement of Pam's hips works Tara over just as well. She needs more of Pam, all of her. Her lips suck, her tongue traces patterns over Pam's throbbing clit, her wrists twists as she pushes her fingers back in deep.

It happens so fast. Pam's body tenses, Tara feels the walls clench around her fingers but she still works deep in Pam, wanting to coax all the pleasure she can out of her Maker. Her lips and tongue never leave Pam's clit. A rush of heat on her fingers, nails digging into her scalp, Pam's desperate cries of pleasure that she knows half, if not all, of Fangtasia can hear as her body writhes wildly under Tara.

And then: "Tara," so soft on Pam's lips.

Tara's body weakens in a way she hasn't felt in so long. As Pam shivers with aftershocks and begins to come down, Tara slides her fingers slowly from her, standing on wobbly legs and kissing her Maker deep, hard. She doesn't pull away for a long time and when she does, she touches her still wet fingers to Pam's lips gently.

She groans loudly when Pam sucks them into her mouth, tongue siding between the digits.

Pam hums deep in the back of her throat, eyes locked on Tara's. "What a good little girl," she says, eyes roaming over Tara's body.

Tara shivers and waits.

"I suppose you're just as needy," Pam says, gently releasing Tara's hand from her own and sliding off the edge of her desk.

"Yes ma'am," Tara says. The words slip from her mouth before she can stop herself. Before it had been a way to mock Pam or maybe turn her on, now it felt comfortable on her tongue.

Pam laughs, a light, tinkling laugh that makes Tara feel ashamed, makes everything inside of her harden and clench. She can see it returning to Pam, the sternness of her brow, the constant mocking tone in her voice. Even though Pam stands without any clothes on before her, Tara can't help but feel like the one who is naked.

"Forget it," Tara says, turning away. She doesn't know why it burns, everything burns. Her eyes burn, her muscles burn, the need between her legs burns. She's trembling and she blinks, feeling tears building. She hates crying as one of them now. Blood. Every fucking thing is blood.

"Tara," Pam says, her tone hard. Back to being the Pam she was used to.

The weakness Tara had felt after she made Pam orgasm returns, making her insides exhausted, her heart aching, her eyes brimming over. She doesn't dare reach up and feel the blood there. The anger bubbles in her, just below the surface, the rage, the humiliation. Pam is her Maker and not by choice.

This is the person Tara had left behind when she left Bon Temps. This is the person she realized she still was the moment she set foot back into this godforsaken hell hole. She would never escape it, the rage, the anger, the pain of being.

"If we're done here, I'm going to go, I was in the middle of something," Tara snaps. She hates that her body trembles when she's angry, when she cries, when she's so fucking wet.

"Shut up and turn around," Pam snaps.

Tara takes a step forward.

"As your Maker," Pam starts, but she doesn't have to finish.

Tara turns. She blinks and feels warmth on her face, her hands balled into fists at her side, everything about her tense and on guard and waiting.

Pam doesn't say anything for a long time. She takes a few steps forward until she's face to face with Tara again.

Tara waits still, determined. Determined not to let the sob inside of her break.

Pam kisses her.

It isn't like before where Pam's lips melted into hers and surrendered. It's soft. Pam presses her lips just so to Tara's.

And Tara breaks.

The sob wracks her body and she closes her eyes tight, feeling more warmth sliding down her cheeks. She doesn't dare touch her face and feel the blood. She can't stand the idea of seeing it on her hands, seeing the evidence of what she is now staining her skin. She doesn't move, terrified that Pam will snap back to her snarky self and tell her to grow the fuck up.

Pam's arms wrap tight around her, pulling their bodies close together.

She hates it. She hates being here, being this. A sobbing mess in the arms of her Maker. Her Maker, the thing that made her into one of these fucking creatures...monsters.

She sobs harder, her legs giving way. Pam easily holds her up, but slowly lowers them both to the floor.

Her fingers stroke Tara's hair. She doesn't say a word, she holds the new vampire while she sobs, lets Tara cling to her like a scared child to her mother, lets the red blood fall onto her pale, cold skin.

"I love you," Pam whispers softly after a few moments.

Tara clings and shakes and sobs harder.