"Stop pacing, you're giving me a headache."

With a click, Pam came to a halt. She narrowed her eyes at her maker who was sitting on what used to be his throne. Momentarily distracted, she grimaced. Her eyes trailed along the broken throne, its splinters, and scorch marks. The building that had once been their club was now destroyed, owned by the rubble, the dust and ash.

As the shock of seeing Fangtasia in such a state wore off, she was pacing again. She could feel Eric rolling his eyes behind her back.

"She's going to be fine," he droned, having grown tired of Pam's worry years ago. "She always is." He reminded her in such a casual tone that she couldn't help but scowl.

"If I wanted your-"

Both vampires turned on alert, bearing their fangs. A growl emitted from Eric's throat and he walked forward to stand in front of Pam, his chest vibrating with the sound. There had been an explosion and from the sounds of it, it was right outside Fangtasia.

Eric turned to face Pam with a finger to his lips. She nodded silently, retracting her fangs. He zoomed to the door and peeked out through a crack. He could make out a bus, overturned, fuming with flames and smoke. Whoever had been in it, or whoever had caused it, were gone. Gone, or dead.

"Sanguinistas?" Pam asked as soon as she knew it was safe to speak.

Eric shook his head slowly, his fangs retracting with a click. He tore his eyes away from the explosion site and strode back to where his progeny stood. "Natives," he informed her.

"Out this far?" she asked him in disbelief. She had to see for herself. She walked around Eric, tip-toed around the rubble, and came to a stop at the door. She stared out the same crack to look at the bus.

"Probably a distraction," Eric offered, knowing they would need to leave soon. Fangtasia was gone, they found no sanctuary there. "You remember what Isabel said about Sanguinistas in this area."

Pam tensed at his words and exhaled a shaky, unneeded breath, "…controlling the Natives, eradicating the non-believers, and recruiting the young ones…" she repeated Isabel's words through a tight jaw. "Yeah, I remember."

Eric hadn't meant to increase Pam's worry but these days it took little to rattle the blonde. It took little to rattle anyone, himself included. He just had a better poker face.

"How do I look?"

Pam turned around and looked at Eric who had a smug smirk on his face. He nodded down and used his hands to gesture to his figure. She trailed her eyes over his torn jeans, top, and burnt jacket. All were covered in blood and dirt. Splotches of grime were caked on his neck and face. She didn't answer with words but with a laugh and he smiled, pleased his distraction had worked.

"Probably as good as I do," she shrugged, thankful for the lack of mirrors. She worked through the small obstacle course that were planks of wood, pebbles, rubble and debris in order to reach Eric and the once standing bar.

Despite her torn and destroyed clothing, filthy skin and coarse hair, Eric smirked. "You look absolutely exquisite." He offered her his hand, cold skin touching cold skin and helped her across the uneven floor.

The back door of Fangtasia opened to reveal a young brunette male with piercing blue eyes. He was covered in fresh blood and debris. Pam was at his side instantly, her hand on his cheek, her thumb brushing across the dirt to where his wounds were healing slowly from the lack of blood. She pressed a maternal kiss to his forehead and embraced him for a brief moment.

"Where's your sister?" she asked as the embrace ended. To see him minus a family member was disheartening.

Colin cupped Pam's cheek with a reassuring smile. "She's fine, kära mor." Pam released a breath at his words. A wave of relief rushed over her body but there was still a sense of foreboding.

"She got held up at the raid, it didn't go as smooth as we thought," he began to explain. "The Natives were there, the ones being controlled by the Sanguinistas." He acknowledged Eric's presence with a nod and received a curt one in return. Pam followed and stood next to Eric as Colin placed an aluminium case onto the stool. "We had to take them out. She's with Jessica, collecting their blood."

"But you got it?" Eric asked impatiently.

Colin gave a forward nod and all three pairs of eyes settled on the case. "I got it," he confirmed. "It should be enough for all of us for about a week, but that's it. It was all we could find. Jessica mentioned something about Monroe, it might be worth the trip. Anyway," he leaned forward to pop open the case, "we should do this now, dawn will be soon."

Inside the case lay many syringes, syringe-type guns and vials containing steel capsule-like rods. He removed one of the syringes and clasped a vial onto the latch, pulling back the small lever until he heard a click.

He turned to face his maker who already had her back to him, her hand nestled in her hair, holding it up and revealing her neck. He placed the end of the syringe gun to the back of her neck and pulled the small trigger. The capsule pierced her flesh and lodged under her skin. It emitted a pale blue glow for the first few seconds before vanishing like it always did.

Cursing, Pam swiped at her neck, rubbing over the small area. "I can never get used to that."

Eric chuckled and pulled up his sleeve to expose the curve of his arm. He grabbed a different syringe and performed the same action but instead of injecting his neck like Pam, he used the middle of his arm. Colin opted for the palm of his hand. Each blue glow subsided within seconds and Colin closed up the case yet again.

As if on queue, the front door swung open. Jessica was the first to enter, a bag hanging off her shoulder. Her red hair was tied up and her body donned grime and grease and blood, a usual for her and everyone around her.

"The hell's all that about?" she pointed behind her, to the explosion. "Sanguinistas?" she asked with a hint of dread.

"Natives," Pam replied in a mutter, trying to get a look behind the redhead.

Jessica nodded and handed the bag to Colin as he reached for it. He opened the flap to peer inside. It was full of bags of blood, enough to get them by for a while. He placed it onto the stool next to the case and motioned for Jessica to come over so he could inject her with the daytime capsule.

"Uh, I hate doing this…" she complained.

Entering through the pathetic excuse for an entrance, dressed in combats, a tank top, thick boots, and caked in dirt, was Tara. She brushed the blood off her hands by rubbing them against her already dirtied bottoms. "I'd give anythin' for a damn shower," she muttered.

Tara looked up from her hand swiping motion to see her maker looking at her pointedly. At first she turned to look behind herself. When she saw no one there, she turned back. "What?"

Pam rolled her eyes. "Hello to you, too." The words basically hissed from her mouth. Like a snake, spitting venom.

Tara smirked and whizzed across what could only be described as a war ground. She came to a stop a mere inch in front of Pam. "Hello," she spoke, softly and tenderly.

Pam was reluctant to look at Tara but Tara's hand on her chin didn't allow for any avoidance. She sighed and melted into her progeny's touch. Their lips met in a deep kiss, Pam's arms snaking around Tara's neck and Tara's arms snaking around Pam's waist. They hugged each other's body to their own and held the kiss for as long as they could. After all, they didn't need to breathe.

When they did break away, Tara moved to rest her forehead against Pam's and smiled as she repeated herself. "Hello."

Pam sighed, tracing soft circles on the back of Tara's neck. "Hello," she replied, smiling.

"Son of a…"

Jessica cursed and slapped a hand to the back of her neck to rub her sensitive skin. Colin chuckled behind her which earned a death glare but seeing as he was used to them, it didn't bother him as much.

Eric was outside, scanning the area, when his ears picked up something in the distance.

"Pam." Colin tossed a syringe gun in her direction as she looked at him. She caught it with smooth, steady hands and motioned to Tara who sighed and lowered her combat pants to expose her hip.

"I'm sorry, darlin'," Pam drew the syringe against Tara's cold skin and looked up to see her progeny squinting her eyes. She could go off and fight Natives but she couldn't handle a little injection. Pam found it adorable.

"One, two…" she pulled the trigger immediately, lodging the capsule under Tara's skin who jumped, unprepared.

"You never said three!"

Pam tilted her head upwards from her crouched position and leaned in to press her plump lips to Tara's skin, kissing where her flesh had been pierced. "I'm sorry."

"I forgive you." Tara took the syringe, tossed it to Colin, and took Pam's hand, pulling her to her feet. They smiled wryly at each other but before they could kiss, Eric zoomed in through the door.


I got this idea after listening to Radioactive for the one hundredth time and thinking of the episode Letters of Transit from Fringe. If you like it, let me know, and I'll turn this into a full fledged story, chapters and all. :}