Table of Contents

heartsways - The Fifth Way: Actions

LOST GIRL - BO/LAUREN

“Ways To Tell You I’m Sorry” series

The Fifth Way: Actions

heartsways

Title: Ways To Tell You I’m Sorry - The Fifth Way: Actions

Author: heartsways

Rating: NC–17

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 wants to tell Bo she’s sorry, but what will it take for Bo to listen?

Author’s Note: Thanks for the awesome beta and advice. Truly appreciated. I had to split this into two parts because LJ is determined to thwart my attempts a presentable LJ cut. It’s LJ’s way of saying “Write less!” – I know this…

The Fifth Way: Actions

heartsways

The Glass Factory was cold. Winter had brought with it icy blasts of wind that buffeted homes and tried to creep past doors and windows to the warmth inside. But there was no such warmth in The Glass Factory. A frigid wind whistled through the structure, the temperature plummeting so that even within its depths there was no escape from the inherent bitterness that chilled every wall and the criss–crossed iron skeleton inside.

Most people had enough sense to stay indoors when the weather was like this. And almost everyone possessed the wherewithal to avoid places like the abandoned factory on the outskirts of town. But there was one figure who paced up and down inside the huge interior that had once housed a thriving industry, now long gone and forgotten. Every few paces, she would lift her gloved hands to her mouth and breath a puff of hot air onto the material as though that could assuage the creeping cold that was shivering up and down her body.

Lauren stamped her feet on the floor and tugged her padded jacket more firmly around her. Shoving her fleece–covered fingers into the pockets of her coat, she turned around, glancing towards the gaping hole that served as a doorway. There wasn’t much protection against the elements here, and even less in the way of actual structure. The legacy of the Glass Factory was a broken one, in disarray and a crumbling tribute to what had once been a steady source of income for the town. But economic demand had died and left this shell of a building for the Fae to claim as neutral territory, which they had done with alacrity. In their societal conflicts, this had become something of a no–man’s land for all Fae. A place where loyalties faded and became secondary to the almost sacred impartiality of the location. In a world led by tradition and ancient law, The Glass Factory was a modern counterpart to the way in which the Fae had adapted to their surroundings.

Breathing out a cloud of ice–whitened air, Lauren wondered if she had also adapted to her surroundings. If she had changed, not to rail against the world in which she lived, but so that she could survive it. Perhaps her evolution, like the Fae’s, had been forcibly engendered by the constantly changing environment around her. And, she mused with a wry smile, the changes that had taken place in her, too. They were what had brought her to this desolate place and kept her standing in the cold for so long. Just when she thought it was a lost cause, she was reminded of the reasons for being here and her feet stayed their instinctive urge to leave. Fear and duty were powerful masters and she had given herself over to them for many years without question, without reserve.

But then Bo came along, and with her, an overwhelming emotion that Lauren almost dared not give a name lest it escaped her as it had done in the past. The last few days had seen her plagued with phone calls from the Succubus, to which Lauren had given vague responses claiming work commitments and time–consuming research as a means to distance herself from Bo. But it wouldn’t last. She knew that she would find herself drawn to Bo again soon enough. It was ever thus, she thought ruefully, a grim smile across her mouth. But putting Bo’s happiness before her own – before everything – had only served to remind her that while hatred was a compelling motivator, love prevailed above all.

Surely that was the only reason to justify any of this?

A sound along the far wall caught her attention and she froze for a second, eyes straining to peer into the shadows that lay there. She hadn’t brought any weapons – even if she had, she was sure that she lacked the ferocity to actually use them. Physical violence wasn’t something that had ever been demanded of her and she had detached herself from the more visceral rivalry of the Fae with an almost grateful isolation. But as she squinted across the dirt floor of the abandoned factory, she found herself wishing she’d brought something, at least. Preferably something larger and blunter than her fist, curled tightly in the pocket of her coat.

“Hello?” she called out, then winced. Drawing attention to herself might not be the smartest thing to do at this point. But her voice echoed in the cold interior for a few seconds before a cold gust snatched it away and whistled a reply up among the rafters. Her gaze snapped upwards as the wind rattled at the roof angrily and she caught her breath. “This was such a bad idea,” she muttered.

“You’re right,” a voice said close to her and she whirled around, gasping loudly.

The figure standing behind her appeared blurred for a split second before she focused on it and he assumed solid form. He was just as she remembered him, even down to the faintly amused smirk as he looked at her. Willing her heart to resume to a more manageable pace, Lauren sucked in a freezing breath and let it out again slowly in a white cloud.

“Did I surprise you?” he asked, knowing full well that he had.

Lauren pressed her lips together and gave him a cold stare. “Wasn’t that your intention?” she said grimly. “Honestly, Sagi. Don’t you ever change?”

Sagi shrugged nonchalantly, folding his arms over his expansive chest. He was a handsome man, dark–skinned and exotic with piercing blue eyes. His large stature belied his ability to appear and disappear at will without so much as a sound, and he used it to great advantage. He always had. Lauren had met him at a council meeting between the Light and Dark Fae and, despite being on opposing standpoints when it came to Fae matters, they had struck up a conversation about medical ones. Sagi was a doctor, too, and his experience and knowledge of Fae physiology had both astounded and impressed Lauren. Her presence at a council meeting had also mystified and intrigued Sagi, as a human presence among those respected members of the Fae clans was hitherto unknown.

But Sagi was also Fae, and as such had always had a rather superior attitude towards her work. He never missed an opportunity to patronize her if he could – which was often. Lauren had learned to tolerate the way that Fae spoke to her, but she never stopped wishing that they wouldn’t. Besides, she had reasoned with herself, Sagi was a Kitsune, and they pretty much existed to torment humans for their own amusement and benefit. Sagi was no different. And even though he was well–versed in medical matters, his true nature led him to be as cunning and treacherous as any of the other Dark Fae that she’d learned to avoid.

“What surprises me, Doctor Lewis,” Sagi said in a playful tone, “is that you expect me to. What on earth is the point of invisibility if one never exercises the right to use it?”

Lauren gathered herself a little and threw him a quick glare before shaking her head. “Just because you can do something doesn’t mean you should, Sagi.”

“Ah,” he countered, with a roll of his blue eyes, “such advice to come from an enslaved human.” He smiled widely at her, but his eyes remained as cold as the winter sky outside as he spread his arms wide. “You humans always think you know better. But, Doctor Lewis…I would have thought that you of all people might have a different view of the Fae.”

“I know that the Fae are capable of acts of great charity,” she responded diplomatically, with a slight incline of her head. It wouldn’t do to alienate Sagi, not after she’d gone to so much trouble to get him here in the first place. Getting a message to him had been relatively easy, but enticing him into meeting her had taken several days of strenuous persuasion on her behalf, as well as promises that she despised herself for making. But he had finally agreed, and now that he was here, Lauren was damned if she was going to let him go without getting what she needed.

“We’re all bound by our own laws and I meant no offense,” she told him, and he nodded sagely. He even seemed satisfied with her efforts to appease him and a thin smile appeared on his lips once more as he folded his arms over his chest again.

“So why bring me here to neutral ground?” Sagi asked, glancing around the disused factory with a critical eye. “Your messages were cryptic, to say the least. Don’t tell me your indenture to the Light Fae no longer suits you?” His eyes gleamed with anticipatory pleasure; if he were to bring Lauren over to the Dark Fae he was sure that The Morrigan would heap him with rewards. The doctor might only be a human – his lips curled with distaste – but she was an excellent and impressive doctor with medical skills that would benefit the Dark Fae in numerous ways. Ways that he could exploit for his own gain and surely rise through the ranks at a much faster pace than he had done over the last fifty years.

Lauren let out a soft laugh and shook her head. “I’m sorry, Sagi,” she said. “I’m not ready to leave the Light Fae yet. You know as well as I do that my bond to The Ash is breakable only by – ”

“Death,” Sagi finished for her. “Yes.”

A small silence followed as he watched her carefully. This wasn’t the same human he’d encountered at the Fae Council meeting. He could read humans well and in her he saw turmoil; a shading underneath the eyes and a troubled sheen to her eyes. She was probably able to hide it from most people, but he wasn’t most people. His abilities meant that he was able to see the things that other Fae couldn’t; strip away the layers of lies that made deception possible. Deception was his weapon to wield and he could espy it in others – especially humans – almost immediately. Lauren Lewis had always been a stalwart of capability and forthright speaking, but in her now he saw the strain that a disingenuous facade could instill.

He drew in a short breath. Interesting.

“I need your help,” Lauren said, glancing up at him before her gaze dropped to the ground.

Sagi nodded. “That’s what your message said.”

Looking back up at him, Lauren smiled: a plea, an entreaty. “I’m trying to get some information from a Dark Fae. Information that would be of great interest to a…” she faltered, wondering just to describe Bo in relation to herself. A lover? A friend? Something more?

“A friend and ally,” she decided upon a description that would incriminate her the least, but flushed anyway with the thought of the Succubus.

Sagi’s eyes narrowed as he gazed back at her. “Information?” he echoed. “Useful information?”

“To my friend, yes. This doesn’t concern the Light Fae.” Lauren saw that his interest was piqued and hoped it would be enough to gain his help. If nothing else, Kitsune were intensely curious creatures, which often worked to their advantage as in the Fae world knowledge was most definitely power.

“You want me to glean information from the Dark Fae to give to you and your…friend.” Sagi’s inference caused another blush to spread across Lauren’s cheeks and she turned away slightly, looking out across the dirt floor of the factory. If he saw her weakness, saw the cracks in her fortitude that Bo had caused, then he would have no other choice than to use it for his own gain. It was in his nature, after all. And she was meaningless to him; a novelty. He had tolerated her requests thus far because it suited him to do so. As soon as he grew tired of this game, he would turn on her; she was as sure of that as she was of his capacity to help her.

She turned to face him again and looked into his eyes. This was not a time to feel fear or shame. It was a time to put aside her sense of loyalty and prove herself – if not to Bo, then to her own overwhelming feelings of the sheer need to do so.

“Sagi, there is an Elemental who’s a favorite of The Morrigan. He knows information about the parentage of a Succubus who is neither Light nor Dark. I need to know what he knows. And I need you to find that out for me.” She heard her voice almost cracking over the desperate plea in it, and drew in a breath, blinking rapidly.

“Ah…the Succubus.” Sagi looked uncommonly pleased with himself and his teeth gleamed white amidst his face. He nodded thoughtfully and reached up a hand to scratch at his chin.

“She’s only looking for her heritage, Sagi,” Lauren persisted. “She’s had no formal Fae upbringing, no clan to guide her or help her. Surely you can understand her need to know where she’s from?”

“I’ve heard of the Succubus foundling,” Sagi said slowly. “She’s somewhat of a thorn in the side of the Fae, both Light and Dark, no?”

That was one way of putting it, Lauren thought. Bo was headstrong and about as subtle as a brick to the head when it came to navigating through Fae society. But what she lacked in political finesse, she more than made up for with her true heart and her ability to endear herself to humans and Fae alike. Even if she had the faintest idea of just how troublesome her mere existence was to the Fae, she still refused to compromise herself. Her love for humanity was widely reviled and most Fae couldn’t comprehend why she would cling to and want to protect a species that were, for the most part, a mere source of food and sustinence. But Lauren found it to be one of the facets of Bo’s complex personality that she loved the most, because Bo loved quite without reserve or judgment. And that was a rare commodity – for a human and for a Fae.

“She’s special, if that’s what you mean,” Lauren answered the Kitsune and saw how his eyebrows rose in response. Letting out a self–conscious laugh, she scuffed her boot in the dirt floor underneath it. “She was given to humans who raised her as one of their own. All she wants is to find out why.”

“Hm.” Sagi’s hand moved up to stroke at his chin again and his mouth turned downwards in quiet contemplation. “Why can’t you enlist the help of The Ash in this matter?”

“Bo refused to join the Light Fae. She’s uh…she’s not his favorite person these days,” Lauren admitted with an almost apologetic smile.

“So he doesn’t know you’re here? Well now, isn’t that fascinating? She must be special for you to go against the bonds that hold you in your place, Doctor Lewis. I’m certain that isn’t wise.” Despite himself, Sagi found that he was experiencing something akin to concern for the doctor. He didn’t value her species whatsoever, all told, but he did find her medical acumen intriguing and, on occasion, the object of some envy. But this sort of insubordination was almost unheard of, particularly as those who defied the Fae elders usually disappeared.

“Are you going to help me or not?” Lauren asked bluntly, eager to divert his unwanted attentions to her motives. Sagi didn’t need to know more about her than was necessary. Nobody did. That was the way she lived; the way she preferred to live.

Sagi smiled gently and tilted his head onto one side, blinking as he pondered the possibilities. “I find myself titillated by your request,” he finally said. “But what recompense am I offered for finding out this information you require?”

“Research,” Lauren answered quickly. “You know the research I’ve carried out on the Fae and you know how good it is, too. I can give you notes and formulas for treating a large number of diseases and infections.” His eyes gleamed and she knew that she’d baited the hook well. Now if he’d only swallow it…

“Doctor Lewis,” Sagi began in a tone that carried reverence and respect, “I can’t say that I’m opposed to extending my own practice among the Dark Fae. Your medical knowledge is quite impressive…for a human. But what you’re asking is dangerous for us both should we be discovered. I know the Elemental of whom you speak and he is, as humans say, a nasty piece of work. You may be under the protection of The Ash but that won’t guarantee that The Morrigan won’t take great offense to having someone meddle in her affairs. If she’s chosen not to make this knowledge public, then there’s obviously good reason for that.”

“There’s good reason for me asking, too,” Lauren countered. “And Sagi, what I’m offering you amounts to years of research and development. You know as well as I do that the Dark Fae don’t have half the resources I’ve got in my lab.” She straightened up, a glimmer of pride shining in her eyes. If there was one thing she was certain of, it was that very few people in the world had the drive, ambition and insatiable curiosity for medical advancements that she did. Her few dealings with the Dark Fae, along with the scant information The Ash had given her, had proven that. So when it came to convincing Sagi to carry out her plan, she was optimistic that his personal ambition would outweigh any loyalties to the Dark that he might have.

“Very well,” Sagi said after a moment’s thought. “I will accept your offer. Plus a future favor, should I need it.”

“A favor?” Lauren said, her voice rising over the mere suggestion. “I have no sway with the Light. I’m just a human, remember? I follow the will of The Ash, not the other way around.”

Sagi laughed, a low, rumbling sound that seemed to echo ominously in the cavernous factory. “Oh, my dear child,” he said in a tone that was silken and overly indulgent, “if this Succubus is as special as you and The Ash seem to think she is, then it may not be the Light that I need a favor from. And I’m sure you have some sway with her, yes?”

The expression that entered Lauren’s eyes gave him the answer he wanted and he nodded curtly. “I’ll be in touch, Doctor Lewis.”

“Wait – how will you…I mean, how are you going to get the – ”

He held up a hand, one finger effectively silencing Lauren’s concerned questions and smiled again, baring his teeth in an atavistic grin. “You know what my kind are capable of,” he told her. “I have my ways.”

A clattering sound in the distance turned Lauren’s head and she stared at the gaping doorway, fear widening her eyes and tensing her body. Seeing nothing, she breathed a faint sigh of relief and turned back to Sagi…but he had already gone, leaving her completely alone in the factory with only the wind swirling around the space he had once occupied.

Nodding to herself, Lauren tugged her coat more firmly around her body and drew in a long breath. Her plan was in action.

* * * * *

“Okay, you have got to start returning my phone calls or I’m going to think there’s something wrong with me. And if there’s something wrong with me then I definitely need to see a doctor. So here I am.” Bo’s playful tone announced her arrival in the lab as she strode purposefully across the floor. Almost before she had the opportunity to turn around, Lauren found herself enveloped in a swathe of Bo, standing close to her and staring at her with bright eyes. Despite herself, Lauren smiled. Those eyes gleamed with possibilities that had no business entering her lab, and certainly no business being in her head after she’d tried so hard to dispel them.

“Bo,” she breathed in greeting. “I was going to uh…I meant to call you but…my phone was switched off,” she decided on an excuse that seemed profitable and was relieved to see Bo roll her eyes and stand back a little, satisfaction creeping a grin over her face.

“I was starting to think you were avoiding me,” the Succubus said with a laugh that was intentionally dismissive and almost certainly nervous. “You know, after you crept out of my house in the middle of the night.”

Lauren turned away and leaned over the table in front of her, moving slides and samples away from the microscope in a busy manner. “I told you…official business. You know how it is; when The Ash calls…” It was easier to let Bo believe that it was her fealty to The Ash that had kept her at bay, rather than her loyalty to the Succubus. Bo didn’t need to know about Sagi or the deal that she’d brokered. Bo didn’t need to know that every time they were together, all they were doing was moving further apart. What was that saying? What Bo didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her? It had never seemed more appropriate than right now. The last thing she wanted was to hurt Bo, and if that meant she herself had to suffer the pain of ignominy, then so be it.

“Yeah, yeah,” Bo waved her hand in the air and pursed her lips, aggrieved. “I just…” she reached out and laid a hand on Lauren’s shoulder. “I wanted to see you, that’s all.”

Lauren turned again and gave Bo an indulgent smile. Leaving her had been hard. Saying goodbye, almost impossible. But Lauren had told herself that she and Bo had been saying goodbye ever since they’d met – they still were. Every touch, every kiss, every conversation was a prelude to the farewell that she’d convinced herself was inevitable. There was no future for a human and a Fae. No possible context in which to place their relationship or communion. It was abhorrent to most of Bo’s kind, and unimaginable to her own. And yet, she still felt the painful spike of emotion that drew her to the Succubus, no more so than when Bo was near her. Like magnets, she thought. Constantly repelling and attracting. Perhaps it was better to enjoy this for what it was or to see herself as a pleasurable distraction than place hope in an untenable position. If she were to do that, then hope would only turn to hurt in the end.

“So, do you want to check me out?” Bo said, moving towards one of the examination tables and hopping up onto its surface, swinging her legs over the side.

“Do I want to…?”

“Check me out!” Bo repeated, a lazy grin crawling across her face. She spread her arms wide and shrugged. “You are still keeping tabs on my abilities, right?”

Suppressing the urge to laugh, Lauren walked to the table and stood in front of Bo, meeting dark eyes with her own and shaking her head a little. “I think you mean check up. And yes, I’m still monitoring your progress. I keep routine track of all my patients.”

“Ah, so I’m just another one of your patients, am I?” Bo was clearly in a playful mood and winked at Lauren, who frowned good–naturedly in response. “And here I was thinking that you saved your bedside manner just for me.”

Reaching out, she took Lauren’s hands in her own and stroked the back of them with her thumbs. “You do, right? I mean, you can tell me,” she murmured. “You know, doctor patient confidentiality.”

Drawing a sharp breath, Lauren looked down towards the ground. So this would be a long goodbye. A very long one.

“That’s really only pertinent for medical matters,” she said, sliding her hands from Bo’s grasp and shoving them into the pockets of her lab coat.

“This is a medical matter!” Bo insisted, assuming an expression of serious concern. “I have this…this thing.”

Despite herself, Lauren laughed. “Care to be more specific?” She took a step closer to Bo and watched as the Succubus gazed at her from underneath hooded eyes. Cunning, wonderfully tempting eyes that spoke of more promise than Lauren had thought possible. Certainly more than she’d suspected were probable between them.

“It’s a sort of pain,” Bo continued, her voice dipping to a tone that shivered up and down Lauren’s spine. “Kind of an ache, really.”

“And is it localized or just everywhere?” Lauren dared not meet Bo’s eyes for fear of what she might see there. Instead, she reached for her stethoscope and plugged it into her ears, lifting the diaphragm with practiced fingers.

“Hm,” Bo pretended to think carefully for a moment, her features becoming crinkled in contemplation. Then she lifted her hand and pointed to her throat, a single fingertip trailing down it to where her black vest plunged between her breasts. Further down, her finger paused just over her breastbone and she tapped gently. “It’s just about here,” she murmured, as Lauren leaned forwards and pressed the cold diaphragm against her skin, making her gasp a little.

“Or maybe it’s a little…lower,” the Succubus lifted a hand and caught some strands of blonde, rubbing them gently between her finger and thumb.

“Sssh,” Lauren frowned, eyes darting towards Bo’s face then back to the stethoscope. “I’m trying to listen.”

Tiring of the game, Bo grabbed the diaphragm and removed it from her chest, eliciting yet another glower of recrimination from the doctor, who pulled the instrument from her ears and stood back with a thoughtful expression on her face.

“Well,” Lauren looped it around her neck and glanced at Bo. “You appear to have a slightly elevated heartbeat, which could signify nothing. Have you been experiencing any dizziness? Palpitations?” Her questions were innocent enough, but she sensed rather than saw the sly grin on Bo’s face before a pair of arms grabbed her waist and tugged her against the Succubus’ body.

“Now you come to mention it…” Bo breathed, low and husked as she pressed her lips to the hollow at the base of Lauren’s throat. The tip of her tongue dipped into it and evoked a wonderfully harsh exhalation from the doctor. But a pair of hands on her shoulders eased her away from Lauren’s skin and brought an expression of disappointed surprise to the Succubus’ face.

Flushing red, Lauren cleared her throat and stepped back. Just when she’d told herself that being physical with Bo was off the menu, her body traitorously betrayed her once again. Want coursed through her veins, hot and seductive like the sensation of Bo’s tongue on her. In her. She shivered, remembering how her body had arched towards Bo’s mouth as the Succubus had taken her fill; how every sensation seemed to begin and end between Bo’s lips and the broad strokes of a tongue on her wanton, lust–soaked flesh. If she’d been the sort of person who indulged in impropriety in the workplace, Bo would have been half–naked and moaning on the examination table right now.

But Lauren had learned both restraint and patience. A fact that she inwardly cursed herself for as she turned a heavy gaze onto the other woman.

“You,” she pointed an accusatory finger at Bo, “are a terrible patient.”

Bo shrugged dismissively and eyed Lauren. “I try,” she smiled innocently.

Rolling her eyes, Lauren let out a soft laugh and almost forgot who they were. Almost, but not quite. As she looked at Bo, coquettishly leaning back on the examination table with a hungry look edging into her eyes, Lauren was suddenly aware of reality rushing in to fill her chest with a cold dread. It didn’t matter what they did now, or what they said; ultimately their fate was in the hands of powers older and stronger than they were. Even if she didn’t know the precise manner of those powers, Lauren had seen their effects before. They were consuming, devastating and always final. Her decision to become embroiled in the midst of them might have been hers to make, but the outcome would be out of her hands.

It’s worth it, she told herself as she clenched her jaw and stood up straight. She’s worth it. Pushing at her hair, she proffered another smile to Bo and let out a short huff; another laugh, another grin to hide how she felt. She was so accustomed to doing it by now that it almost happened inadvertently.

“Seriously though,” Bo was saying, and Lauren blinked back to the present. “You’re okay? I mean, you haven’t been avoiding me or anything, have you?”

“No, of course not,” Lauren answered quickly. Too quickly. How easily the lies sprang to her lips; much more easily than the things she desperately wanted to say. Biting at her lip, she steadied herself and shook her head, swallowing hard. “It’s been busy. As much as you’d like to think so, you’re not my only patient.”

Bo’s eyebrows rose at the faint reprimand and she shoved herself off the examination table, planting her booted feet firmly on the floor. “All work and no play, Lauren,” she sashayed towards the doctor, “makes Bo a sad girl.” Reaching the object of her desires, she leaned back on her heels, folding her arms over her chest in an almost challenging gesture.

“Hm,” Lauren responded absent–mindedly, casting a gaze over Bo’s features then reaching out to press her fingertips just underneath the Succubus’ ears. Her eyes narrowed as she examined the other woman, head tilting onto one side as she trusted her medical acumen rather than the dismissive expression that slid into Bo’s eyes. There was a fervency that burned in the dark gaze fixated on her own; a heat that spoke of hunger rather than lust. Although, Lauren equivocated, when it came to Bo, they were quite often the same thing.

And then it struck her: Bo wasn’t here because she missed her. She was here because she was hungry. Starving, even, if her symptoms were to be believed. Disappointment spread like ice through her chest, effectively stilling any warm notions Lauren might have had about Bo’s intentions. Whether she knew it or not, the Succubus had been brought here by hunger and the nature she railed against. And nothing more, Lauren told herself.

“When did you last feed?” she asked Bo, dropping her hands and reaching for her stethoscope again.

Bo’s head jerked back on her neck and she blinked at Lauren, nonplussed. “Uh…hello? You were there, you should know.”

Lauren demurred and blushed a little, shaking her head. “But it wasn’t…I mean, you didn’t…” she waved her hand around between them wordlessly.

“Well, I did a little bit,” Bo muttered, as they both let out a self–conscious laugh and avoided one another’s eyes. The passage of energy between them had been unexpected and instinctive. It had been given freely, and taken without the insatiable greed that usually accompanied it. For both women, it had signified a trust that had been sadly lacking between them for too long. A trust that was fragile and barely formed, but there nonetheless. Feeling Bo take her very essence had touched Lauren in many ways – she’d experienced it as a doctor, as a medical practitioner who had seen the most incredible mystical events unfold before her eyes. But she’d also experienced it as a woman, as a lover, putting herself so completely into Bo’s hands that her own audacity was well nigh terrifying.

She wouldn’t ever forget how that felt. The first time. Perhaps the only time.

“Bo, you’re hungry,” Lauren remarked, snapping out of her reverie and bringing the stethoscope up towards Bo’s chest once more. But the Succubus slapped it away with her hand and let out an impatient sigh.

“I’m fine, Lauren,” she snapped, relenting slightly when she saw the widening of the doctor’s eyes and the silent offense that shaded them.

Lauren’s head dropped to her chest as she looped the stethoscope around and shoved it into one the large pockets of her lab coat. She didn’t have the energy to nourish Bo in the way she really needed. Not in the way that Dyson had, and even he had suffered the effects of the Succubus’ kiss. Most Succubi were able to temper their needs and establish a feeding habit that strengthened them, but they fed from many people. She wasn’t sure how she felt about Bo doing that.

A wry smile tugged at her mouth and she puffed out her cheeks, sighing. Yes she was. She knew exactly how she felt about Bo feeding from other people. She hated the idea. She had absolutely no right to hate it, but the revelation that she did quite shocked her. But then, since Bo had come into her life, she’d discovered many things about her feelings that she’d thought were long buried and stagnant. It was the thin line that she walked between desire and denial, always threatened by the temptation to leap in one direction or another and allow herself to be consumed by it.

“I’m…uh…I’m sorry,” Bo reached forwards and linked her fingers through Lauren’s, tugging on the doctor’s arm until a blonde head lifted and their eyes met. “I didn’t mean to – ”

“I know,” Lauren interjected, the lightness in her tone resonating with the sinking of her stomach. “But you’re a Succubus, Bo. You’re still working on being stable and that means you need a healthy sex life. Never mind the amount of energy you need to heal.”

“Define healthy,” Bo demanded, lifting her chin, almost a challenge.

Tugging her fingers from Bo’s grasp, Lauren drew in a breath and turned away. Her hands reached for the comfort of her clipboard and pen in an assumed attention to detail. Scribbling a few notes on the paper below her, she shrugged as though this didn’t matter. As though this was a formality and Bo was just another patient. But the pen wobbled as she pressed it against the page and she wondered, not for the first time, if she was insane to even contemplate having feelings for a Fae, let alone acting on them.

“As…as often as you think you need it,” she said, almost carelessly.

“How often do you think you need it?” Bo’s voice was at her back once more, too close, too intrusive, too intimate in tone and insinuation. It was a long moment before Lauren finally placed the clipboard and pen carefully back down onto the table and slowly turned to face Bo.

“Succubi aren’t meant to be monogamous,” she told the other woman. “By their very nature, they need more energy than one person can possibly provide, even if their partner happens to be Fae. It’s just…it’s just your nature, Bo. It’s the way you are.”

Bo frowned, lines appearing around her eyes and on her brow. “No. I don’t care about that.”

“Care or not, your biological makeup demands it.”

“So you’re telling me to sleep with other people? Feed from other people?” Bo’s tone was appalled, hushed even in the quiet of the lab. This wasn’t quite what she’d anticipated. She’d lived with humans for so long that she’d adopted their inherent need to believe in one person who was able to give her everything she needed. Over the last ten years, she’d been in turn frustrated and heartbroken over the reality that for her, a relationship – a true, proper and fulfilling relationship – had become a dream that was constantly beyond her reach. Lauren was the only human she’d ever slept with more than once, a circumstance that had become a beacon of hope to shed light on her troubled past and offer a glimpse of something that looked more like a future every day.

Lauren pressed her lips together and fought against her instincts to deny Bo’s assertion. But the truth of the matter was that she alone could never be enough for a Succubus. She was only human, after all. It was time she begun to accept that along with her foibles and weaknesses. Try as she might, she would never be enough for Bo. Not in the way that the Succubus needed, anyway. Fae fed from humans – that was the irrefutable and biological truth that ran doggedly through her head whenever she dared think about anything other than physical release. And if she couldn’t even offer Bo that, then what use was she at all? She almost understood Sagi’s indifference towards her and his superior nature towards her kind. Fae needed sustinence from humans, not love. Love was a lofty ambition that people like her didn’t get to experience – not with humans, and absolutely not with Fae. In the middle ground between being a doctor and being a woman, Lauren knew she had to make a choice sooner or later.

She decided it would be sooner, and turned to Bo with a determined look in her eyes; the sort of look that she adopted with all her Fae patients. Being a good doctor and caring for the needs of her patients meant being detached. Cold, even. No wonder Sagi was so good at his profession – the only needs he really cared about with any shred of emotion were his own. Anything else was handled with a clinical isolation that she’d always thought she possessed. Straightening slightly, Lauren attempted to feel that way now and almost managed it. Almost.

“I’m telling you that your needs as a Fae are greater than a human can sustain. Don’t you think there’s a reason why Fae and humans aren’t meant to be together?” she posited as Bo’s jaw hardened in rebuke.

“Is this your way of telling me you don’t…that you don’t want to see where this goes?” Bo’s eyes were wide, afraid of the answer she might receive. Terrified of what it might mean.

“It’s my way of helping you understand that whatever happens between us, I care about you,” Lauren said quietly. “And that I have your best interests at heart.” That, at least, was a truth she could share.

“I care about you too, you know,” Bo answered gravely, peering into Lauren’s eyes. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

It was a strange and unusual feeling that flooded through Lauren’s chest. A warming portent that was quickly followed by an icy harbinger of knowing and feeling. To be hurt, she would have to first allow it to happen; she would need to let someone in so they could roam around the wastelands and bring life to what was barren and cold. It was a leap of faith that Lauren barely believed in, let alone considered hers to claim. She looked Bo in the eye and smiled again, a comforting gesture that was reflected on the lips of the other woman almost immediately.

“You won’t,” she said.

continued in

The Sixth Way: Revelations