Picks up Buffy at the end of Empty Places and True Blood before the start of Season 1.
I own nothing. True Blood and Buffy are copyright to their respective creators.
The ad had said that this place was closing down, not that it had already closed and that the owners had left along with the rest of the miserable town. Pam had spoken to Mr Kidger of The Bronze just three nights before, and he had assured her that the closing down rate that had been advertised was genuine. Softly tutting to herself, Pam decided she would inspect the bar to save three nights of wasted journey. She hoped that the proprietor was still around so she could make him aware of her dissatisfaction.
Currently dressed in a lilac zip-up sweatshirt, light grey jogging pant and pumps, anyone would have thought Pam was a soccer mom in her late twenties or early thirties; or perhaps on the way to collect a young child from a playgroup. It was the perfect disguise for a vampire, really, when everyone was expect leather and whips and kinky bondage gear.
The heavy metal door to the Bronze had been left open, and Pam slipped inside. Although the lights were out, she could make out the inside of the bar perfectly well it seemed the equipment had all been left as it was.
Pam stood with the phone next to her ear. On the third ring it was answered by a woman announcing 'Underground', The steady thrum of a drum beat sounded in the background.
"Hello Ginger," Pam said, her voice an icy calm, "get Eric."
After a moment Eric had the phone, 'yes', he said, a statement, not a question.
"It appears the previous owners have already left," Pam informed him.
'That is unfortunate,' he told her, his tone level and bored.
"They have, however, left the equipment as agreed," Pam stated, glancing lazily around the deserted bar.
'Very good,' Eric confirmed, then after a moment added, 'do not delay in your return.'
"How is the club?" Pam asked, a smile twitching at the corner of her mouth.
'Tiresome," Eric said, before the line died.
"Don't Move!" A man's voice said from behind her.
Buffy froze. She had 'gained access' to the house, as she needed somewhere to stay after her friends... well... kicked her out seemed a good term, and this place looked like it was deserted. It seemed that, in this case, looks could be deceiving.
"Now, turn around, and get outta my house," he stated loudly.
Doing as he said, Buffy carefully turned around and was confronted by a middle aged man, with a thinning dark mess of hair on top of his head, and a bit of a belly on him. He was taller than her (what was new there), but he certainly wasn't tall - he more fitted the classic medium height description. He was holding a semi-automatic pistol in his right hand; she had to assume it was loaded at this point.
"I'm sorry, I thought this place would be empty," Buffy tried to explain, raising her hands as if complying with him, "I really only needed a place to crash."
"Well crash somewhere else," he said, eyeing her warily.
"Okay, I'll go," Buffy said, and took a step forward intending to walk around the central food isle.
The noise was the first thing Buffy sensed, three short pops, then the cold of metal in her chest. She looked down and saw red running down and staining her top, before looking back up in confusion at the man. Why had he shot her? What had she done to make him do that?
She grabbed on to the edge of the central isle, forcing herself to stand upright, and lurched forward a step in the process.
"Stay back, goddamn it!" The man yelled.
Buffy heard some more rounds fire off, and she collapsed forward. Funny, she thought, that the bullets should be knocking her back, but she was going to fall forward flat on her face.
The shots were audible from three blocks away. Well, more probably, but Pam was currently three intersections from where she had heard shots, so felt that the description was accurate.
Normally, she would not be interested in the affairs of humans, but this town seemed effectively deserted so that fact anyone was shooting in the first place was novel, and added to that, the fact that the person who Pam assumed had done the shooting had come screeching out onto the empty road in his car, this all peaked her curiosity.
She parked her van up along the right hand side of the road, and locked it but left her side lights on. Pam could smell the metallic tang of blood on the air from the roadside, and as she approached the house with the open front door it only got stronger.
The house itself was laid out simply: an entrance lobby and stairs, short corridor to the kitchen, and dining room and living room on either side of the entry lobby. Quickly making her way to the kitchen, Pam found the smell of blood almost overpowering. She was no fledgling, but she was sorely tempted to rip into the human on the floor like she'd not drunk in a year.
What she had not expected was the dull erratic thud of the human females heart. She was alive, if only barely. Judging from the mess the exit wounds from the shooting had made, Pam had not expected her to be alive at all.
She squatted down next to the body, and rolled it over. Pam was not surprised to see that the girl was not conscious; that kind of blood loss could do that. The girl had a pretty face; pretty lips. Okay, so she was a bit skinny compared to what Pam felt was healthy for a human, but there was a certain determination to the creature she'd have to say.
It would be a shame, Pam decided, for such a pretty and determined little thing to just stop being. The fact that she didn't care that Eric was not going to be pleased with her decision, and that she wasn't even going to talk to Eric to ask his opinion, was when she realised that she was going to go through with this.
Stepping over the female and turning around, Pam squatted down at her head. Grabbing her by the jaw, she shoved her head back to expose the neck. She leant over the girl, holding her hair back with one hand to stop it going in the blood on the floor, and lowered her mouth down to the girls throat. The blood was good; very good, in fact; powerful. Pam guzzled and slurped at the girls neck, determined not to let any of the blood she had left go to waste. The girl's heart had stopped, but Pam still managed to suck some more blood from her. Removing her vice like jaws from the girls neck, Pam licked the residual blood from around her lips, and stood up. There had been far too little blood in that human - and she could have drank what she had three times over and not been satisfied.
Taking a breath, Pam regulated her thoughts, and glanced around the kitchen to find what she needed. Whoever had invented the knife block had obviously been in the employ of a vampire. Pam took a short cutting knife from the block and settled herself back down near the girl. Tipping the blondes head back, Pam held the top of her forehead and used her other hand to open her jaw, then made a deep cut across her wrist before holding it to the girls open mouth.
Waiting for long minutes, Pam watched her blood trickle down into the girl at her feet. She had to occasionally worry the wound on her wrist with the knife to keep the blood flowing. The girl would probably clean up quite nicely; and she had a good bone structure; so perhaps Eric would not be so annoyed with her creating a new vampire.
Getting up, Pam washed her hands off in the sink. She lifted the girl up by grabbing her around the collar of her jacket and dragged her along the corridor, down the steps, and towards her van. There was nothing that Pam could do now, other than to wait for the next evening when if she had been successful, the girl would rise. Opening the back door of the van, she slung the now dead girl into the back, her limbs a tangle.