OOM - Fangtasia, after hours
Apr. 13th, 2014 07:17 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
onceavikingHe can always tell if Pam is really pissed off. It's something about the way she stands, too straight with demonstratively unclenched hands. Too calm.
Not smirking.
"It is none of your concern, Pam," he says, keeping his eyes on the paperwork in front of him, knowing full well that it is not going to work. Won't dissuade her. She's a terrier. Always has been. Often, it is extremely useful. Right now, he wishes she wasn't.
"I could taste you on him," she says, her voice sounding almost a little strained.
"What the hell are you up to, Eric? I have a right to know."
He looks up at her, a clear warning in his eyes, but she presses on, regardless.
"I fucking do, Eric. You know, I don't question you. You know that. But how am I supposed to be useful when you don't tell me what you are doing? How am I to -"
And then he is standing, crowding her, fangs bared, hissing, his eyes dark and full of menace. Cutting her off.
"I am spreading the idea of the sensible and at times even gentle vampire, Pam. I am doing everything to ensure our position and clear the path ahead."
She doesn't back down. Doesn't even flinch.
"By fucking a 16 year old boy smelling of grease and motor oil and letting him drink from you?"
"Yes," Eric snarls. "If that is what it takes to make him to buy into the idea that vampires can be safe to be around. And he didn't drink from me. I made sure he didn't keel over so I'd have to dispose of a body."
He stalks away from her and then turns, lightning fast. "And he is not sixteen. Where does that even come from?"
"You can't expect me to be able to tell their age," Pam snarls back. "They all look the same to me. But fine. Whatever. You're doing it for the good of vampire kind. How fucking noble. So tell me, Eric - why aren't you busy - "convincing" - " she makes highly sarcastic quotation marks in the air, "someone who matters? Instead of a not-sixteen year old boy?"
"Because I need someone where he is," Eric says, insistently. "Because he can be immensely useful to me. I know what I am doing, Pam."
"You like him." It sounds like an accusation.
"He amuses me."
There is silence. Then Pam says, grudgingly, "I suppose he is - entertaining. I just don't - I don't want you weakened, Eric. I don't -"
And then he is enveloping her. Holding her close.
He shushes her. "Have I ever, in all the long years we've been together, cared about a human being?" he asks her. Gently.
She shrugs. "I guess not."
Now she is sounding almost petulant.
He chuckles and kisses her hair. "Would I ever risk anything, anything at all, Pam, for the sake of a blood bag? You know I wouldn't. It'll never happen."
She sighs against his chest. "As long as we're clear about that."
"I promise," he says against her hair. "And you know I keep my word."
Not smirking.
"It is none of your concern, Pam," he says, keeping his eyes on the paperwork in front of him, knowing full well that it is not going to work. Won't dissuade her. She's a terrier. Always has been. Often, it is extremely useful. Right now, he wishes she wasn't.
"I could taste you on him," she says, her voice sounding almost a little strained.
"What the hell are you up to, Eric? I have a right to know."
He looks up at her, a clear warning in his eyes, but she presses on, regardless.
"I fucking do, Eric. You know, I don't question you. You know that. But how am I supposed to be useful when you don't tell me what you are doing? How am I to -"
And then he is standing, crowding her, fangs bared, hissing, his eyes dark and full of menace. Cutting her off.
"I am spreading the idea of the sensible and at times even gentle vampire, Pam. I am doing everything to ensure our position and clear the path ahead."
She doesn't back down. Doesn't even flinch.
"By fucking a 16 year old boy smelling of grease and motor oil and letting him drink from you?"
"Yes," Eric snarls. "If that is what it takes to make him to buy into the idea that vampires can be safe to be around. And he didn't drink from me. I made sure he didn't keel over so I'd have to dispose of a body."
He stalks away from her and then turns, lightning fast. "And he is not sixteen. Where does that even come from?"
"You can't expect me to be able to tell their age," Pam snarls back. "They all look the same to me. But fine. Whatever. You're doing it for the good of vampire kind. How fucking noble. So tell me, Eric - why aren't you busy - "convincing" - " she makes highly sarcastic quotation marks in the air, "someone who matters? Instead of a not-sixteen year old boy?"
"Because I need someone where he is," Eric says, insistently. "Because he can be immensely useful to me. I know what I am doing, Pam."
"You like him." It sounds like an accusation.
"He amuses me."
There is silence. Then Pam says, grudgingly, "I suppose he is - entertaining. I just don't - I don't want you weakened, Eric. I don't -"
And then he is enveloping her. Holding her close.
He shushes her. "Have I ever, in all the long years we've been together, cared about a human being?" he asks her. Gently.
She shrugs. "I guess not."
Now she is sounding almost petulant.
He chuckles and kisses her hair. "Would I ever risk anything, anything at all, Pam, for the sake of a blood bag? You know I wouldn't. It'll never happen."
She sighs against his chest. "As long as we're clear about that."
"I promise," he says against her hair. "And you know I keep my word."
