Thanksgiving Fixin’s 28

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#28

 

 

“Why the hell would you ask me that?” Pam snipped derisively. “It’s so… human.” The last word to fall from her lips was expressed with a predictable tone of disgust by the blonde vampiress.

 

“Precious,” Niall sighed indulgently while he continued to hold the ring up to her, eagerly awaiting an answer.

 

The glint in her eyes shifted from stifled surprise to a worthy appraiser, “Cartier,” she mused with a hint of approval and she removed it from its velvet encasing and held it up for scrutiny, “Clear cut, 4.99 carats. You did well.”

 

“And?”

 

“I’ll keep it, I guess,” the vampiress replied with a tiny shrug as she allowed him to slip the large diamond encrusted ring over her delicate finger. Pam wiggled them appreciatively, catching the light in the brilliantly cut gems. “I like.”

 

“Good,” Niall spoke with a chuckle and he seated him beside her. “We’ll be wed in a fortnight.”

 

“Are you insane?” she questioned with full affront. “If you think I’m waddling down the aisle with this… this bump, you’ve got another thing coming!”

 

“But we will be wed?” he teased with a glint in his eyes.

 

She tried to hide the smile that uncharacteristically graced her face, but he had already caught it so she let it stand. “Yes,” Pam finally agreed before her lips were stolen away by far more eager ones. “Yes, I’ll marry you.”

 

The kiss was deepened while his hand snaked over the bare expanse of her belly, leaving it to rest there. “I’m in charge of your wardrobe though,” she added as an afterthought midway through their kiss.

 

“I would expect nothing less,” Niall whispered against her lips.

 

“What the hell was that?” Pam screamed out in sudden fury.

 

“That’s just someone greeting their father,” Niall chuckled with a soft gesture over her baby bump, seeking out the kicking foot again.

 

“Well, it better fucking stop!” she growled down at her stomach. It ceased momentarily but, much to Niall’s amusement, as soon as Pam relaxed the kicking returned with an even stronger force.

 

 

“Sookie said no,” Willa spoke carefully.

 

Pam’s eyes narrowed down to menacing slits, “What do you mean she said no?”

 

Eric cast a curious glance up towards his two progenies from his reclined position where Eva happily snored away while Viggo was convinced his black wife beater was the most interesting thing in the world. He wondered briefly how was wise it had been for Willa’s punishment to be assigned as Pam’s wedding planner. He initially thought it too mild but reluctantly agreed with Sookie’s encouragement; now he feared it was perhaps a bit too much for Willa.

 

hold on to those ovaries…

 

 

“She thinks they’re too young,” Willa answered with apprehension, fearful for another explosion of Pam’s volatile mood. “They won’t even be able to walk down the aisle.”

 

“We’ll juice them up with some vamp blood,” Pam informed dismissively as her perfectly manicured nails continued to leaf through another stack of hefty bridal magazines. “A few of Eric’s drops and those teacups will be running down the aisle on those little bow legs with ease.”

 

“Pamela,” Eric growled admonishingly causing Viggo and Eva to giggle contentedly with the vibrations on his chest. “If Sookie says no, it’s no.”

 

“That’s not fair,” his eldest progeny huffed out petulantly. “Mini-Pam and Mini-Eric are meant to be my flower girl and ring bearer. Who else am I going to ask?”

 

“No,” Eric repeated sternly. “Viggo and Eva,” he continued, emphasising their true names once more to his wayward child. “Are not props for your wedding.”

 

“I know,” she suddenly perked up. “They can be in a sled pulled forth by brilliant white unicorns.” In response, Willa diligently wrote down Pam’s latest request.

 

“Pamela, enough!” Eric commanded and out of fear for Eva’s reprisal he purposefully calmed himself down when Pam muttered some unkind words about their mother.

 

“You could ask Jason’s eldest daughters to be flower girls,” Willa offered in suggestion. “Ginger has a little boy.”

 

“Ginger has a son?”  Eric asked with sudden interest as Eva’s little hand grabbed onto his finger.

 

“Yes, Eric,” Willa answered shyly while hiding behind a curtain of her hair.

 

Eric pulled his finger up to his lips to softly kiss the little hand that held on tightly to it, closing his eyes briefly to relish in the tender touch of his daughter.

 

“Does he smell?” Pam demanded impatiently.

 

“Eric does smell a bit bad,” Willa replied carefully. “Nothing too bad.”

 

“Excuse me, I’m right here,” Eric spoke sharply when his eyes opened again and narrowed down onto Willa’s. “I may carry a bit of sick on my clothes from the babies now and then, but I do not smell a bit bad.”

 

“Of course you don’t,” she replied all a fluster. “But Ginger’s son does.”

 

“She named her son Eric?” Pam questioned with an arched brow.

 

“Well, his full name is Master Eric Jameson, but he goes by Eric,” Willa explained.

 

“Does he look like me?” Eric asked with a wince.

 

“No,” Willa giggled as she took in her Maker’s sigh of relief. “He has hair the colour of a fire engine truck and freckles all over.”

 

“Denied,” Pam said with horror at the child’s inevitable clash with her proposed colour scheme. “Guess you’re up mini-Er…” The vampiress quickly amended when the horrific sight of a red-headed namesake now came to mind, “Viggo.”

 

Willa silently underscored the word unicorn twice adding several question marks.

 

 

“So will you do it?” Pam demanded.

 

“You really think I’m the right person to ask?” came the slightly sceptic reply. “I mean maid of honour is a big deal.”

 

“You’re questioning my choices,” she growled out crossing her arms over her chest, which was becoming more difficult by the day with her rapidly progressing pregnancy. “Maybe I should ask someone else.”

 

“Now hold on, biotch,” Lafayette replied with his hand still leaning against the inner doorframe. “You’s the one showing up at my door unannounced with a giant badonkadonk in the front. Give a brotha some time to digest.”

 

Pam merely looked at him pointedly for a well-counted thirty seconds before she announced, “Time!”

 

 

“Tell Karl it’s Pam,” she spoke with a very direct threat that had Willa fearing for her own un-life even though it was clearly directed at the rude representative of Chanel on the other end of the line. “Yes, that Pam. The one that never ages.”

 

“Hold please.”

 

“No I don’t need a dress,” Pam informed in a clipped tone. “I need at least ten.”

 

Willa nudged her gently pointing at the list in her neat handwriting.

 

“Right,” Pam amended. “And some bridesmaid dresses too.”

 

 

“What do you think?” Willa asked nervously while she shifted on the balls of her feet in Fangtasia’s basement.

 

“What do I think?” Pam fumed. “What. Do. I. Think!”

 

Willa bit her lip anxiously preparing for the onslaught of her elder sister’s all-encompassing fury.

 

“I told you to get me a unicorn and you bring me this?” she screamed while waving her hands out wildly at the sight. “What do you think, Lafayette?”

 

“Bitch looks dope,” he shrugged before the icily cool orbs of Pam persuaded him instantly of other thoughts. No glamour necessary. “I mean she looks awful, absolutely awful. Willa, what was yous thinkin’?”

 

“Well it was this or a horse with a horn attached,” Willa answered testily.

 

“I ask for a unicorn and you bring me Sarah Newlin ‘dressed’ as unicorn,” she screamed out in aggravation causing Sarah to tremble further on her already unsteady legs. “Get me a FUCKING unicorn!”

 

 

 

“Willa, hun, you okay?” Sookie asked as she saw the young vampire furiously work behind her laptop on the dining table. “Can I get you a New Blood?”

 

“Thanks, Sookie,” she smiled politely while she momentarily released her tired eyes from the spreadsheet with mind boggling numbers.

 

“Pam’s not being too hard on you is she?” Sookie tested with worry as she sat beside the young vampire after placing the drink beside her. Viggo contentedly sat in her lap pulling at the long locks of her hair while Eva had happily settled in with Willa whose calming presence had made her one of her favourite people much to Pam’s dissatisfaction.

 

“I can handle Pam,” Willa replied while taking a sip of blood. “It’s her spending that worries me.”

 

“Let me see,” Sookie said, gesturing for the laptop. A small frown appeared between her eyebrows that only grew deeper with each additional page she scrolled down. It didn’t take long for the father of her babies and his eldest vampire child to appear in front of her as her anger grew larger with the numbers.

 

“Pamela Swynford de Beaufort, you are not spending this much money on your wedding day!” Sookie exclaimed to the bored looking vampire.

 

“Eric said I could have what I wanted,” she shrugged in return. “This is what I want. He can afford it, my Maker has more money then there is water on this earth.”

 

“I don’t care whether Eric can afford it or not!” Sookie shrieked. “You do not need ten wedding dresses.”

 

“I so do!” she screamed back. “I need options!”

 

“You can have one wedding dress and one reception dress,” Sookie proclaimed sternly. “That’s it, and you are not spending the equivalent of what would get a third world country out of its national debt on a single wedding day.”

 

Pam huffed petulantly before presenting her most innocent and pleading look towards Eric knowing he would instantly cave. To her horror, he quickly looked away and muttered, “Listen to Sookie.”

 

“Have a seat Pam,” Sookie said sharply while Pam’s mouth was still falling wide with shock. “We’re going through every single item till we bring this total down to an acceptable number.”

 

Pam groaned and, with much pomp and circumstance, she pulled out a chair and seated herself displaying her chagrin with the entire situation. She eyed her Maker from the corner of her eye who did his best to remain neutral in the situation and defensively took Viggo on his lap who did his best to stand up straight on his father’s lap and provide a helpful distraction.

 

“Have I mentioned how much I miss Fairy Sookie to you lately,” Pam growled in his native tongue before receiving a slightly painful zap from Eva.

 

 

“Oh Niall,” she whispered seductively into his ear in a sing-song.

 

“What is it precious?” he replied waking from his nap.

 

“Sookie’s taking away all my dresses,” she pouted looking particularly devastated.

 

“Not to worry my sweet. What my Pammy wants, my Pammy gets.”

 

 

“I’ll take that one in pink,” Pam said disdainfully not giving the food item much of a glance. “What do you mean there’s no such thing as spaghetti flavouring? Make it happen then!”

 

 

“Pam,” Sookie tried to soothe as panic was soon striking fear in Willa’s eyes again. “I don’t think anyone but Niall would enjoy that flavour.”

 

“So?” Pam demanded with little interest.

 

“I could give it a go,” Jason shrugged between the many bites of samples that were splayed out before them. “Sounds good to me.”

 

“Maybe a groom’s cake?” Sookie offered apologetically to the very accommodating cake decorator who had already offered to make a test batch of the desired flavour.

 

“Yes,” Pam agreed with sudden excitement as she demanded the photo Willa had carefully archived in a neat portfolio. “See this, I want his head to be the groom’s cake.”

 

“Is this your future husband?” the cake decorator asked congenially.

 

“No!” Pam said aghast. “Only the blonde bimbo over there ever fell for his snake oil charms. Not once but twice.”

 

“Hey!” Sookie returned slightly insulted. “I wasn’t in my right mind.”

 

“What was your excuse the first time round?” Pam intoned while cocking her head pointedly shutting Sookie up instantly. “As I was saying I want his head, decapitated and on a spike. Make sure there’s lots of blood.” The cake decorator’s face turned incredibly pale though she did manage to nod briefly.

 

“Pam!” Sookie shrieked.

 

“Shut it, Sookie!” the vampiress hissed while continuing to ignore her wildly waving arm. “It’s my wedding; I’ll do whatever I fucking want! If I want Bill’s head on a stake, I’ll get Bill’s bloody head on a stake.” She turned to address the cake decorator again. “Which reminds me,” she noted with a harsh stare towards Sookie, “Make sure he’s extra veiny.”

 

“Pam!” she yelped out again with the same wild hand movements, forcing the vampire to finally look down to where she was gesturing.

 

“Oh, bugger,” the vampiress exhaled when she took in the bloody puddle on the floor. “There go my pumps.”

 

 

 

A/N: Special thanks to msbuffy again for sorting out my messes and saving me from pitch forks ;).

 

I’ve gone a little overboard with Pam and her wishes so I hope everyone’s okay with the multitude of pictures… and below are Pam’s 10 dresses… and if someone is really good at baking novelty cakes… I would so love to see Bill’s head on a spike cake and it doesn’t have to be spaghetti flavoured at all 😉

 

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Today’s extra little one shot Coldfinger can be found here.

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