OOM - Pam's room

[lazy_but_loyal]

[Continued from here.]

Pam has no qualms about simply taking what she wants from humans. The humans who don't matter to her. Which are 99% of them. But sometimes one or two stand out, like Yvetta back home, or even Ginger to a degree. She's learned to treat Jay a little better, because he has a connection to Eric.

And Jemma, well... It just wouldn't feel right to take her blood and not give something back, even if she offered to help.

(In the old days, they could just grab someone off the street, drain them to within an inch of their life, glamour them and leave them in an anemic heap. Good times.)

So it's with this in mind that Pam opens the door to her room. She lets Jemma in first, following her inside, and then closes the door behind Eric.

Her room is as it has always been since they were last here. Same warm lighting, same huge comfortable bed.

Eric has already had a small taste of Jemma from the wrist. Pam figures he might want to go for the usual, less formal method via the throat. She's not overly concerned, no. But she will watch carefully. Eric is hungry, and just like herself, he can get carried away.

Comments

[protect_and_survey]

After a few minutes where her situation fails to get worse, the panic recedes like the outgoing tide, leaving her washed up with a set of horribly jangled nerves and a distinct sense of unreality she has to fight to not succumb to. Her grip on his shirt definitely turns to one of looking for support. She tries to distract herself with comparison between Pam and Eric, though that slowly becomes harder and harder to do.

[onceaviking]

He tightens his hold on her a little and splays one of his large hands on her upper back.
Distantly wanting to tangle his fingers in her hair and refraining.

She's fragile, like a little bird, every bone twig-like and breakable.

She's vast. A red ocean lapping at his face. Teasingly.

He moans. It's a soft sound. Not sated. Not even close. But now so weak anymore either.

[protect_and_survey]

It's... odd. Odd as the pain and burn from the bite doesn't so much fade as becomes ignorable, imminently unimportant. Odd as his presence crowding into her space slowly morphs from menacing to comforting as her strength falters. Odd as her thoughts, usually so sharp, slow to the slide of molasses.

[lazy_but_loyal]

It's different, watching Eric with a woman. Someone as small as Jemma. He would completely overwhelm her if he wasn't careful, and he is being careful.

But he's still hungry. Most of his strength is back, though. He should stop, and feed again later on someone else.

Pam sidles up to Jemma, standing close to her. She slides a hand over Eric's, splayed on her back.

(It's almost like the way they used to take a human together.)

"Eric," she says softly.

(Drawn by the scent of Jemma's blood, the sound of Eric drinking.)

"That's enough for now, she's fading."

[protect_and_survey]

Dull anxiety plucks at nerves that are otherwise slow and inefficient. There's no real energy or drive to fret, but the feeling remains, unabated.

She lolls her head to watch Pam, distracted by the play of light through her hair.

[onceaviking]

There is no reaction.
And then Eric makes a small, rumbliing noise and pulls his mouth away from Jemma's skin.
His lips are wet and sticky. His eyes are dark. Looking at Pam.

Once, they used to feed together.

And this is where he would normally kiss the one he is feeding from (if he wants to), making this into something else -

He scoops Jemma up and nods at Pam's bed.
"Do you want her -?"

Trying to be careful, still. Even if she has a very attractive jawline, when he holds her like this.

[protect_and_survey]

Jemma makes a sound somewhere between surprise and distress - her feet have left the ground, her balance is scattered to the wind, and she can feel the slow slide of blood soaking into the collar of her shirt. She doesn't understand what's going on, she just... needs a minute. Or two. Or lots.

[lazy_but_loyal]

Pam meets Eric's eyes. He remembers it, too.

Once he has Jemma in his arms, she lays her cool palm on her forehead and sweeps her hair away from her face.

She nods at Eric in reply. She'll take things from there.

[protect_and_survey]

Jemma blinks, first hazily and then more focus, once she figures out where Pam is now. If she can see Pam, then it's over, and Eric is better, and that's... that's good.

It is.

She muses over that conclusion muzzily, before deciding that maybe that's a complete analysis.

[onceaviking]

He carries her over to the bed, the magnificent bed, and lies her down.
Gently.

[protect_and_survey]

The bed, that horribly dangerous bed, swallows her whole. She struggles to put some energy towards the great task of Getting It Together, because she feels utterly at sea at the moment.

Somehow, she feels, that's a problem.

Give her a minute to free herself from this bed, and she'll get on that.

...

A few more minutes. This bed should be rated as an operational hazard.

[lazy_but_loyal]

Pam's fangs drop, and she bites her own tongue.

Cradling the back of Jemma's head, she leans down and kisses her, her tongue slipping between her slackened lips, giving her a taste of her blood to help revive her.

Then, as she pulls back, she tsks. Jemma's shirt collar is stained with blood. Eric is such a sloppy eater.

"You need to replace this," she tells him as she unbuttons her collar.

Leaning down again, she licks her wounds closed, making sure that the fang marks heal over.

[protect_and_survey]

Jemma groans as the fog in her brain clears abruptly, Pam's blood hitting her system like a shot of the good lab coffee.

"Double a routine blood donation my arse." Jemma snorts, gathering her scattered wits with a firm hand.

[onceaviking]

He lifts an eyebrow at Pam and asks, "Should I do it right away?" holding out a hand. He can take the soiled shirt with him, no problem.

As far as Jemma's comment goes, "It wasn't more than that," Eric protests. "But I drained it quicker. And from a different location."

He looks better now. Not as pale. More animated.

[protect_and_survey]

Jemma's answering mix of a grumble and a huff is an unconscious imitation of her partner's noise of irritation - one the dangers of sharing lab space for too long, obviously.

[lazy_but_loyal]

Pam retracts her fangs.

"I'll do it later when she's ready to leave," she insists.

After Jemma has some food. And sex. Yes.

With the brave little donor comfortable, Pam turns to Eric. He does look much better now, and she reaches up to cup his face in her palm. Just because she can.

[protect_and_survey]

Jemma politely turns her attention to the state of her collar, and to poke curiously at the now non-existent bite wound. That will never cease to be incredibly cool, no.

[onceaviking]

Eric briefly closes his eyes at Pam's touch.
Enjoying it, because he can.

Then he moves his attention back to Jemma.
"Thank you, Jemma."

He's less conflicted about telling a woman no. He probably shouldn't make distinctions based in gender - but he does.

[protect_and_survey]

"You're welcome." Now that it's over, and she's gotten her bearings back, she can at least appreciate the experience from an experimental point of view.

"No offense, but I hope that won't be needed again any time soon."

[lazy_but_loyal]

Pam is about to say something wry and flippant when she-- suddenly loses heart.

The past 24 hours or so have annoyingly caught up to her, and she doesn't want to deal with whether or not Eric will even be around much longer, so fuck this shit, she's going to disappear into the bathroom and lock the door for a while.

[protect_and_survey]

Jemma blinks at the sudden departure, thrown off balance. With no explanation from that quarter, she looks to Eric with a stricken expression.

"What did I say?"

[onceaviking]

He looks after Pam, clearly conflicted.
Then he rubs his face. And sighs.

He sounds bone-weary. And old.

"I've killed another vampire. His Maker wants me dead. And he is older than me." He looks up at her.
"He's stronger than me. I've tried to make sure that Pam will be -"

He looks away, clearing his throat.

"I've had our house secured. And I'm - she'll be taken care of."

He wants to sound sure and calm and stoic.
He is not quite succeeding.

"It's hard on her."
Now he looks almost pleadingly at Jemma.

The dry air is irritating his eyes.
Obviously.

[protect_and_survey]

"Oh." Well. That's certainly some... impressive aftermath from a 'little' torture session. "Do you want me to go, or..." She's really not sure what vampiric ways of working are for these sorts of situations, and... well. It's never come up. Ever.

[lazy_but_loyal]

Pam sits still and quiet on the lowered toilet lid, her hands on her knees, her gaze fixed on her hands. Red tears drip sluggishly from her eyes. Occasionally she sniffs.

She's sad, yes.

But rising from deep within her is anger.

At Russell Edgington. At Nan and the Authority. At the fucking Magister.

Even at Eric.

And right now, at herself as well, for losing control of her emotions in front of a human.

[protect_and_survey]

Jemma nods to herself, and pushes herself upright.

"You should talk to her, work all of this out, I'll go take a shower and order in something, watch trashy movies, that sort of thing." She assures him, her resolution to not make things more awkward stronger than her urge to curl up in that ridiculously comfortable bed and let them duke it out with company.