Table of Contents

heartsways - True Lies

LOST GIRL - BO/LAUREN

True Lies

heartsways

Title: True Lies

Author: heartsways

Rating: PG–13

Fandom: Lost Girl

Pairing: Bo/Lauren

Disclaimer: All television shows, movies, books, and other copyrighted material referred to in this work, and the characters, settings, and events thereof, are the properties of their respective owners. As this work is an interpretation of the original material and not for–profit, it constitutes fair use. Reference to real persons, places, or events are made in a fictional context, and are not intended to be libelous, defamatory, or in any way factual.

Summary: Lauren reflects on the events of Episode 8.

Author’s Note: Thank you for looking it over and liking it; that means a lot.

True Lies

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It wasn’t the lying that hurt her – she’d lied before, many times, to protect The Ash’s interests. In fact, lying had become almost a second nature to her, if she had to admit that she had a ‘nature’ in the first place. She’d lied to humans and Fae alike to serve The Ash; to prove her own weakened and unsubstantial fealty in the same way that creatures like Dyson did. So appearing at Bo’s house like she had and keeping her distracted had been another way in which she had proven herself worthy. Proven herself worth keeping alive, just like her medical abilities and her political sensibilities had. Logically, Lauren had rationalized her lies and looked instead to the greater good. Besides, in the battle between light and dark, there were always going to be a few casualties along the way. Better that than a war which would reduce her own species to bloodied dust on the field, ground into the dirt and forgotten. If she really thought about it – which she had done, in the privacy of her own home and the safe cover of pitch black night – her actions under the service of The Ash were a way of protecting humanity, never mind the Fae she had grown to see as ‘her’ people too.

So the lying hadn’t hurt her. The faked reasons for her presence in Bo’s home were meaningless and she had let them drift past her conscience in the same detached manner in which she was able to follow most of her daily duties. And she hadn’t meant to end up in Bo’s bed. Or, at least, that was what she was telling herself today. Even though there was something between them that had hitherto been unexplored and tantalisingly nebulous, Lauren had never meant for things to go as far as they did. She was perfectly aware of the repercussions of touching a Succubus. Of kissing a Succubus. Of being intimate with a Succubus.

None of those, however, had prepared her for the realities of being close to Bo. Because rationality offered no resistance when it came to those deep, brown eyes or the silken hair and velvet tones of the woman she’d tried to stay away from. Tried, and failed.

Lauren had read that sex with a Succubus awoke all the deep seated passions that a human could possibly experience; that it opened up a plethora of entwined responses that most humans couldn’t even give definition, never mind fully appreciate. She’d researched Succubae and had drawn on ancient and modern texts that proffered theories and accounts in some thrillingly graphic detail. There was very little she wasn’t prepared for, didn’t know about and couldn’t guess at when she’d gone to Bo’s home that night.

But nothing could have prepared her for the sensation of Bo’s mouth on her own, or the whispered sentiments that she heard as fingers traced the contours of her skin. Nothing could have replaced bodies arched in passion and limbs intertwined as human and Fae gave way to a forbidden coupling that drew them against and inside one another that night. It wasn’t what Lauren had expected; not even close. It was more – so much more that the mere memory of it flushed her throat and glazed her eyes in a heady recollection of complete abandon. For her, losing control was as much a concerted effort as it was for Bo attempting to regain it. And somewhere in the middle, they found their common ground and relinquished any attempt to resist or stop what was happening. Perhaps it had always been so – always meant to be that way. Perhaps this was what would have happened anyway, despite their best – or worst – efforts. And in the folds of one another’s arms, wrapped in sheets that twisted around their legs, Lauren knew that the real lies were the ones she had told herself. Truth had never been so easy before, but as Bo’s mouth traced a line down her neck, there were no falsehoods in the hungry response of her own body.

The Ash had told her to occupy Bo in whatever way she could. However she could. His inference had been clear and, at the time, Lauren had been faintly disgusted by it. Almost offended by the careless manner in which he assumed she would give her all for his service, even though she knew that his certainty was well placed. But then, he cared very little for human emotion and had merely assumed over the years that she had misplaced hers, lost it somewhere in the vials and treatments of her lab and the burden of the pendant she wore around her neck. So she could justify her actions as an act of scientific curiosity; she could rationalize them as proof positive of her loyalty to The Ash. There were a hundred and one lies she could tell herself that would soothe the burning kisses on her body and the searing touch of Bo’s hands on her skin. And none of them hurt her, not really. She was past that now anyway, living as she did in the twilight world between human and Fae. Neither fully one thing or another.

The moment she woke in Bo’s bed, Lauren felt for an instant that she knew who she was. What she was. And even just for a moment, it felt as though it were enough. Enough for that moment, anyway.

But moments inevitably pass. Time simply cannot stay locked away and frozen forever. If it could, Lauren might have never left Bo’s bed again.

And after? After the satiated passions and whispered confessions had slid from their bodies like evaporated beads of perspiration, there had been betrayal and more lies and aching truths. And Lauren had fallen from grace and stumbled against her own humanity in a way that wrecked her carefully compartmentalized world and left her trembling and sobbing in an empty bed.

So the lies? They hadn’t hurt her at all, she’d discovered. They were a means to an end, and the end had come all too soon.

No. What had hurt her was the look on Bo’s face and the anguished gaze that fixed on her own for long moments before reality rushed in and knocked her off her safe pedestal. What had hurt her was knowing that she was the one to put that look there. That she was the one who had ushered in truth and naked admission. And not just for Bo.

Lying had never hurt Lauren. Never would. And as she left Bo’s home with a heavy heart and an unutterable sadness, she had promised herself that now, lies were all she had to protect herself from feeling this way again. Lies, and the collar that was replaced around her neck.

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