Tommy and Pam | End of School Year Party
Jun. 2nd, 2018 06:38 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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ax_mainAfter her talk with Shen, Pam confronts Tommy. Despite an apology, things don't go particularly well.
After leaving Shen, Pam had spent some time trying to decide what to do. On the one hand, it was seriously tempting to just find Alex and get the fuck out. She really wasn't in a party mood anymore, and part of her really wanted to just go find a corner and crawl into it.
The part of her that she normally thought of as Fatale gave that part a good smack. Because seriously, fuck that. Pam crawled into corners to feel sorry for herself; Fatale faced the shit head on.
She decided that this time, Fatale had it right.
And so, with her beer in hand, she weaved her way through the assembly until she found Tommy, at the moment without the new girlfriend in tow. "So, I'm guessing I should probably say congrats?" she said. "But I'm really not feeling it. You couldn't have just fucking told me?"
Drink in hand, Tommy'd been contemplating taking over the music for a while -- until he got yelled at, anyway. What'd he done this time? "What are you talking about?" Tommy turned, a frown already creased into his brow. "I don't have my grades back yet, if you're imagining that I actually passed the year."
"Really don't care," Pam admitted. "It's not like you have classes with me anyway." She raised her eyebrows. "You were going to tell me about the new girlfriend when? Or was it just fun to wait and see how long it took before I came out and asked why I wasn't worth sleeping with anymore?" And yes, she said that loud enough for the people in the immediate vicinity to hear - though not loud enough to make any kind of a scene. It wasn't like she cared whether or not people knew, but having them stare? Yeah. Skipping that.
"Wynonna?" Tommy had the vague sense that he was wading into shark-infested waters, but then, what was new? "She's not my girlfriend. She's not my anything." Or whatever else that the possessive suggested, like ownership or any of that bull. "We're hanging out, yeah, but that doesn't have anything to do with you and me hooking up. Or not hooking up. And you're sleeping with someone else, so why are you mad at me?" he asked, honestly confused.
"I don't know. Maybe because being blown off without any explanation kinda sucks? But hey, that shouldn't matter to me, right?" She met his eyes, visibly hurt. "Way to make a girl feel like trash, Tommy." Honestly, her mom's boyfriend of the week couldn't have done it better.
He recoiled at that accusation, because ...okay yeah. It had stung some when Tamara had done the same thing to him, but it wasn't like he was leaving Pam high and dry. She had other options. "Okay... I'm sorry about that," he apologized cautiously. "But it's not like we were going out or anything. No-one's ever given me a break-up speech for a friends-with-benefits situation either."
"Kinda would've thought that it came with the 'friends' part," Pam pointed out, her eyes hardening. "But either way? You knew Alex and I never did this before. We told you that. Glad to know it didn't mean shit to you because it didn't have a fucking label."
"Bullshit," Tommy replied, the irritation growing now that she wasn't letting it go. "The friend part of things hasn't changed, for me and you or me and Alex, and you were fucking Pyro before I came along. I'm not that special."
Pam stared at him for a long moment, wondering how he could think that nothing was going to change. The apology didn't mean shit when he justified what he'd done with the next sentence. "If you were looking for me to argue that? You maybe shouldn't have made me sound like a slut. Fuck you, Tommy."
"What? I didn't say that, or even remotely imply it." He shook his head at her, because seriously? This was exactly the kind of thing he tried to avoid. "I mean that you guys have had a third person hanging around before, so adding me in wasn't breaking new ground.
"You do what you want, with who you want, which is cool by me." His fingers curled tighter around his cup, prickles up and down his spine warning him to start running now and never stop. "I'm not going to ask permission to do the same thing."
"I didn't say you should ask permission. I didn't even imply it." Her tone was mocking, but her expression was genuine - she hadn't been saying that, at all. "You've got a new girlfriend or whatever the fuck you want to call her? Good for you. But no. We did not have a third person hanging around. It wasn't the same, and you fucking know it wasn't the same, because we told you that. So yeah, good to know it didn't mean shit to you."
Tommy's expression closed down. "I haven't ended anything to do with Alex," he replied, exasperated. "I'm still around, we're friends, and you guys are still a thing, so what's the big deal?"
All this 'we' and 'us' shit -- as if he needed more reminders that he'd only been an addendum. An appendix. And appendixes got cut out when they were useless and annoying. "It's not like the three of us were dating or whatever, like JP's little trio. It was you-and-Alex, and me-sometimes. And now it's still you-and-Alex, and me. Just less complicated."
"Yeah. That pretty much sums it up, doesn't it? But y'know what, Tommy? The only one who kept it from being the three of us dating was you. And you have no idea what kind of thing Alex and I are, because you never fucking wanted to know." And with that, Fatale let Pam take over, and disappeared. Now that she'd said her piece, the whole curling up in a corner thing was sounding even better.
Tommy felt bad and he really didn't want to - this was supposed to be a party, not a 'make Tommy uncomfortable' intervention, but he didn't snap back, or yell, or anything that would help get that tight awful knot to go away faster. "I know enough," he said simply, his tone and face serious for once. "Picture this -- big bad guy is winning a fight. He's got Alex and me dangling over lava or cobras or some shit. You can save one of us, but only one. Who do you choose?"
There was no answer, because Pam knew the answer just as well as Tommy did. Instead, she dragged her hand over her eyes and just left.
"Yeah," Tommy didn't watch her go. "That's what I figured." Pam would choose Alex, Alex would choose Pam. No deep thinking required. Billy would choose Teddy, Yana would choose Pyro, Shen... no idea, but it wouldn't be Tommy.
He shotgunned the rest of his beer in a split-millisecond and grimaced. Dancing, and loud music. That's what he needed. Something fast, loud and wild enough, something Red Bull-and-vodka enough to drown out the thing he hadn't said.
Is it so wrong to think that somewhere, in this big stupid universe, there's someone who would pick me?
After leaving Shen, Pam had spent some time trying to decide what to do. On the one hand, it was seriously tempting to just find Alex and get the fuck out. She really wasn't in a party mood anymore, and part of her really wanted to just go find a corner and crawl into it.
The part of her that she normally thought of as Fatale gave that part a good smack. Because seriously, fuck that. Pam crawled into corners to feel sorry for herself; Fatale faced the shit head on.
She decided that this time, Fatale had it right.
And so, with her beer in hand, she weaved her way through the assembly until she found Tommy, at the moment without the new girlfriend in tow. "So, I'm guessing I should probably say congrats?" she said. "But I'm really not feeling it. You couldn't have just fucking told me?"
Drink in hand, Tommy'd been contemplating taking over the music for a while -- until he got yelled at, anyway. What'd he done this time? "What are you talking about?" Tommy turned, a frown already creased into his brow. "I don't have my grades back yet, if you're imagining that I actually passed the year."
"Really don't care," Pam admitted. "It's not like you have classes with me anyway." She raised her eyebrows. "You were going to tell me about the new girlfriend when? Or was it just fun to wait and see how long it took before I came out and asked why I wasn't worth sleeping with anymore?" And yes, she said that loud enough for the people in the immediate vicinity to hear - though not loud enough to make any kind of a scene. It wasn't like she cared whether or not people knew, but having them stare? Yeah. Skipping that.
"Wynonna?" Tommy had the vague sense that he was wading into shark-infested waters, but then, what was new? "She's not my girlfriend. She's not my anything." Or whatever else that the possessive suggested, like ownership or any of that bull. "We're hanging out, yeah, but that doesn't have anything to do with you and me hooking up. Or not hooking up. And you're sleeping with someone else, so why are you mad at me?" he asked, honestly confused.
"I don't know. Maybe because being blown off without any explanation kinda sucks? But hey, that shouldn't matter to me, right?" She met his eyes, visibly hurt. "Way to make a girl feel like trash, Tommy." Honestly, her mom's boyfriend of the week couldn't have done it better.
He recoiled at that accusation, because ...okay yeah. It had stung some when Tamara had done the same thing to him, but it wasn't like he was leaving Pam high and dry. She had other options. "Okay... I'm sorry about that," he apologized cautiously. "But it's not like we were going out or anything. No-one's ever given me a break-up speech for a friends-with-benefits situation either."
"Kinda would've thought that it came with the 'friends' part," Pam pointed out, her eyes hardening. "But either way? You knew Alex and I never did this before. We told you that. Glad to know it didn't mean shit to you because it didn't have a fucking label."
"Bullshit," Tommy replied, the irritation growing now that she wasn't letting it go. "The friend part of things hasn't changed, for me and you or me and Alex, and you were fucking Pyro before I came along. I'm not that special."
Pam stared at him for a long moment, wondering how he could think that nothing was going to change. The apology didn't mean shit when he justified what he'd done with the next sentence. "If you were looking for me to argue that? You maybe shouldn't have made me sound like a slut. Fuck you, Tommy."
"What? I didn't say that, or even remotely imply it." He shook his head at her, because seriously? This was exactly the kind of thing he tried to avoid. "I mean that you guys have had a third person hanging around before, so adding me in wasn't breaking new ground.
"You do what you want, with who you want, which is cool by me." His fingers curled tighter around his cup, prickles up and down his spine warning him to start running now and never stop. "I'm not going to ask permission to do the same thing."
"I didn't say you should ask permission. I didn't even imply it." Her tone was mocking, but her expression was genuine - she hadn't been saying that, at all. "You've got a new girlfriend or whatever the fuck you want to call her? Good for you. But no. We did not have a third person hanging around. It wasn't the same, and you fucking know it wasn't the same, because we told you that. So yeah, good to know it didn't mean shit to you."
Tommy's expression closed down. "I haven't ended anything to do with Alex," he replied, exasperated. "I'm still around, we're friends, and you guys are still a thing, so what's the big deal?"
All this 'we' and 'us' shit -- as if he needed more reminders that he'd only been an addendum. An appendix. And appendixes got cut out when they were useless and annoying. "It's not like the three of us were dating or whatever, like JP's little trio. It was you-and-Alex, and me-sometimes. And now it's still you-and-Alex, and me. Just less complicated."
"Yeah. That pretty much sums it up, doesn't it? But y'know what, Tommy? The only one who kept it from being the three of us dating was you. And you have no idea what kind of thing Alex and I are, because you never fucking wanted to know." And with that, Fatale let Pam take over, and disappeared. Now that she'd said her piece, the whole curling up in a corner thing was sounding even better.
Tommy felt bad and he really didn't want to - this was supposed to be a party, not a 'make Tommy uncomfortable' intervention, but he didn't snap back, or yell, or anything that would help get that tight awful knot to go away faster. "I know enough," he said simply, his tone and face serious for once. "Picture this -- big bad guy is winning a fight. He's got Alex and me dangling over lava or cobras or some shit. You can save one of us, but only one. Who do you choose?"
There was no answer, because Pam knew the answer just as well as Tommy did. Instead, she dragged her hand over her eyes and just left.
"Yeah," Tommy didn't watch her go. "That's what I figured." Pam would choose Alex, Alex would choose Pam. No deep thinking required. Billy would choose Teddy, Yana would choose Pyro, Shen... no idea, but it wouldn't be Tommy.
He shotgunned the rest of his beer in a split-millisecond and grimaced. Dancing, and loud music. That's what he needed. Something fast, loud and wild enough, something Red Bull-and-vodka enough to drown out the thing he hadn't said.
Is it so wrong to think that somewhere, in this big stupid universe, there's someone who would pick me?
