Table of Contents

heartsways - The Eighth Way: Repercussions

LOST GIRL - BO/LAUREN

“Ways To Tell You I’m Sorry” series

The Eighth Way: Repercussions

heartsways

Title: Ways To Tell You I’m Sorry - The Eighth Way: Repercussions

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 gets some unexpected news.

Author’s Note: Thanks for the awesome beta and advice. Truly appreciated.

The Eighth Way: Repercussions

heartsways

Lauren liked her home. It was simple, beautifully furnished with clean lines and a wall devoted to a huge bookcase crammed with tomes she’d collected over the years. Working for The Ash often came with caveats that she found difficult to endure, but the benefits had paid off and allowed her to indulge in her passion for knowledge. And knowledge was on every shelf along the back wall of her lounge. Sometimes she enjoyed just standing back and looking at her collection; knowing it was hers and hers alone brought her a satisfaction that she’d always craved as a child. And on the nights when her mind wasn’t full of her work or the ramifications of working for the Fae, she would curl up in the huge armchair by the fire and open a bottle of wine, reading her favorite works over and over.

She’d always been a private person, but when she retreated into the glorious silence of words that weren’t her own, she often felt less solitary. Sometimes it was her only link to the life she’d left behind and she felt a wistful pull towards the humanity contained between the pages of a novel, or the desires that resonated with her own in the verses of a poem. It was only then that she experienced harmony and retained a connection to her own kind, indulging in the brief sanctuary that her home offered. At least, it had always been so before.

Before Bo.

Wearily, Lauren opened the door to her house and stepped inside, closing it behind her and letting a huge sigh gush from her chest as though it could offer the catharsis she needed. Before Bo life had been simple. Lonely, but simple. Sometimes Lauren wondered if her life would ever be simple again, wondered if she really wanted it to be.

Dropping her keys onto the table by the door, she trudged into the lounge, only to be stopped dead by the realization that she wasn’t alone. Her home – her sanctuary – had been invaded and as she stared into the gloom of her lounge, she could see indistinct, shadowy shapes beyond. She gasped, a loud, harsh sound in the quiet of the room, and felt a trembling begin in her legs.

The standard lamp by the armchair clicked on, flooding the room with light and illuminating the figures standing in it. Fear washed over Lauren as suddenly and starkly as the light had done and her eyes widened in horror as the figure sitting in the armchair – her armchair – stood and smoothed down the lines of her skirt with a practiced and well–manicured hand.

“Doctor Lewis,” The Morrigan said with a humorless smile across the red slash of her mouth. “Hello, dear.”

She was flanked by two large Dark Fae, who stood menacingly behind the chair and more than filled the cut of their expensive suits. One of them had the temerity to growl at her but was soon silenced by a wave of The Morrigan’s hand. He dropped his head obediently and took a step back, somewhat like a well–trained attack dog. But his eyes gleamed red as he stared at Lauren with open hostility and she blinked, caught between the instinct to run and the knowledge that if she did, she would be dead before she reached the door.

“Don’t mind Vyras,” The Morrigan said in a smooth tone that licked soothingly at Lauren’s ears. “His bark’s worse than his bite.”

Then she frowned a little and tilted her head to one side. “Actually, that’s not entirely true,” she added with a silken laugh. “His bite could tear you to shreds. But then, you already know that, don’t you?”

“What are you doing here?” Lauren managed to force out bravely. “You have no jurisdiction in my home.”

The Morrigan shrugged and held out her hands in mock–supplication. “Which is why your throat is still intact and Vyras isn’t covered in your blood.” Demurring somewhat, she took a couple of steps towards the terrified doctor, her smile fading as she did so. The intent in her eyes was sinister and quite at odds with the disappearing smirk on her lips. Gazing at Lauren with cold curiosity, The Morrigan’s eyes dragged up and down the doctor’s body, sensuously and so intimately that Lauren shifted uncomfortably as though she had been somehow violated.

“But you are troublesome, aren’t you?” The Morrigan murmured, almost to herself. “I don’t like humans interfering in Fae business. Even if you are a human who works for us.”

“I don’t work for you,” Lauren said through clenched teeth.

“No, that’s right,” The Morrigan countered in a light, breezy tone. “You’re owned by The Ash, aren’t you dear? His little pet? I wonder what he’d say if he knew that you’d been so disobedient. Still,” she shrugged and pretended to inspect her nails, “I always did suspect that The Ash lacked the necessary ability to control his wards. Such a shame. But you know what they say, you’ve either got it or you haven’t.” She let out a self–satisfied laugh and twirled her fingers in the air before her expression became stony and she stared at Lauren with undisguised contempt.

“I don’t know what sort of dog and pony show The Ash is running, but when it allows a human to infiltrate my business, then I have no choice but to take action.” She jerked her head towards the archway that led through to Lauren’s dining room and held out her hand. “You can come out now!” she called, as a figure appeared from the other room.

Sagi walked across the room to stand by The Morrigan, his eyes glittering with pride as she stroked a hand down the lapel of his suit jacket and smiled affectionately at him. Lauren’s heart sank and turned cold. Lies. Always the lies. And the ones she believed the most were the ones she told herself. The ones that Sagi had allowed her to believe.

“You lied to me?” she said in a hushed tone as Sagi inclined his head in a mock bow at her accusation.

“You see,” The Morrigan remarked, “I think the lesson here is that we are not to be taken for granted. Did you honestly think that Sagi would betray his own kind for you?” She looked Lauren up and down again, the distaste in her heart evident on the downward turn of her scarlet lips.

“No,” Lauren answered bravely. “I thought he might do it for his own gain, though. And I made good on that agreement.” She looked at Sagi with a hardened gaze and he shrugged slightly, as though none of that really mattered. He even looked as if he was taking pleasure in her discomfort and fear, the emotion only too palpable and coming off her in waves of desperation.

The Morrigan clasped her hands together and took a short breath. “The thing is, dear doctor, you have no idea who this Succubus is. Not really. You’re only human, after all. So when Sagi came to me and told me about your inquisitive little deal, what other option did I have than to give you what you wanted? We had a lot of fun thinking up a story to tell you, knowing that you’d run off to your little lover and repeat it word for word.” She stood back on her heels, looking for all the world like a feline predator who, on capturing their prey, wanted to play with it for a little while before tearing its throat out. The tip of her tongue ran over her crimson lips and she smiled dispassionately.

“You mean…everything you said? It’s not true?” Lauren gasped.

“Not a word!” The Morrigan trilled delightedly. “But Bo doesn’t need to know that. And you won’t tell her. Let her think she’s Dark Fae. It’ll make claiming her so much more…” she trailed off, waving a finger in the air thoughtfully. “Delicious,” she eventually decided, nodding at her choice of word.

“I trusted you!” Lauren threw towards Sagi.

“Which is why your kind are so easy to manipulate,” he responded with an icy smile. “Humans. Always so ready to trust. Always so ready to let emotion sway you. Such a shame. I rather liked you, Doctor Lewis.”

“Anyway, dear,” The Morrigan countered, patting Sagi absent–mindedly on the arm and nodding at Lauren. “I just wanted you to know what you’ve done. And to thank you, actually. You’ve saved me a lot of time and effort. I mean, why do all the dirty work myself when I can just get you to do it for me? It won’t be long before The Foundling comes to us wanting to find out more. It really is going to be one of my greatest triumphs.”

“If you kill me, what do you think The Ash is going to do in retaliation?” Lauren’s gaze flickered between The Morrigan and Sagi, who exchanged a smile of such pleasure that she gasped again, sucking in a short breath as though it could steady her pounding heart.

It didn’t.

“Kill you?” The Morrigan echoed. “Oh no. That would be far too easy and honestly,” she leaned forwards as though sharing an intimacy with a close friend, “not nearly as satisfying as I’d like. No, we’re not going to kill you. But we are going to let The Ash know that you’ve been meddling in my affairs. He’s such a stickler for tradition and protocol. I’m sure he’ll be horribly disappointed.”

Her mouth turned down and she assumed a tone of disappointed concern that stuck in Lauren’s throat and lodged there in a hard knot. The Ash. The one being whose trust she had really betrayed. There were things he had tolerated, such as her involvement and work with Bo. He’d even been persuaded on occasion to allow her to stretch the bonds of her protection to almost breaking point. She was looked upon as his ward, he her guardian. Before Bo, Lauren had never kept any secrets from him; she’d never had reason to. But now she was to be exposed, her fear shifted from the Fae in front of her to the one under whose protection she lived. If that was taken away, she might have wished that The Morrigan had killed her.

“Well, this has been lovely.” The Morrigan looked around Lauren’s home and proffered a smile and a nod. “You have a beautiful home. Enjoy it while you still can.”

Gesturing to her lackeys, she made for the doorway, brushing past Lauren as she did so. The doctor flinched as though she’d been struck and took a step backwards, away from The Morrigan. Her very nearness was anathema to Lauren; her words an indictment. As the two Fae bodyguards lumbered past her, Lauren turned to see The Morrigan lingering in the doorway.

“Remember, dear. Not a word to the Succubus. Having to punish you myself would be so tacky,” she waved her fingers in the air and her mouth formed a moue of distaste. “But don’t think I won’t, if you warn your little friend. Jurisdiction or no jurisdiction.”

It was more than a warning. It was a promise. And as The Morrigan gave a little wave farewell and the door clicked shut behind her, Lauren found that she could no longer stay upright. Her knees gave way and she sank to the floor in a crumpled heap, arms sliding around her torso as though she could offer herself the succor she so desperately craved. But her arms felt empty, her body brittle and cold. Everything she’d done; everything she’d sacrificed, it was all for nothing. And more than that, she had placed Bo directly into the path of the danger she’d tried so hard to avoid. By her own hand, she had sealed not only her fate, but also Bo’s. And The Morrigan had let her. Encouraged her, even.

The pain in her chest was almost too much to bear. All the years of struggling to sever herself from her emotions had weakened her defenses and she was utterly undone, stripped almost to the bone and shattered open so that everything inside her was visible and raw. It was too much. Failure bowed her, bearing down on her shoulders with such force that she leaned forwards, unable to comprehend or even distinguish the myriad feelings tearing through her chest, the pain so great she could almost believe she was being ripped apart. She could only acknowledge how they felt as they pounded in her brain and squeezed at her heart, that useless, inconsequential organ that only served to flood her body with a fevered sense of anxiety and regret, as if her very blood had become a toxin, searing through her veins, leaving irreversible damage in its wake.

Lauren had hurt before. She’d experienced sorrow and grief when she’d had to leave her sister. But this…this was unlike anything she’d felt before. Before, she’d always been able to justify her actions and loss with tangible results. Her sister was alive and well because of her sacrifice. The Light Fae thrived because of her medical interventions. There was always an outcome, something she could identify as her success – something to give her work meaning and purpose.

But this meant nothing. It had amounted to nothing. It was a wasted truth and an errant lie. And in the midst of it all, Lauren’s heart was breaking as surely as if she’d taken it in her own hands and squeezed every last drop of life from it.

continued in

The Ninth Way: Recriminations