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seelyfey - Final Test

LOST GIRL - BO/LAUREN

Final Test

seelyfey

Title: Final Test

Summary: Bo’s control of her hunger is tested. Lauren’s the food.

Disclaimer: Canadian people own Lost Girl. I’m just playing in the sandbox very very temporarily.

Author’s Note: this isn’t beta’d. I wrote this in three hours on very little sleep. Please let me know if there can be any improvements, I’m not against making a major revision. Posting it tonight, however, cause I promised Specks I would. So there you go Specks: that Lost Girl fic I was semi-rambling about. :)

Also, this is the first time I’ve written anything this dialogue heavy, any thoughts on that end would also be much appreciated.

Final Test

seelyfey

The familiar gloom of the glass factory shines like an obelisk in the distance: all peeling paint, listless fencing and wild swaying grass. Nowadays the trek from her home to the rusty entrance and into the fading courtyard requires no thought. It’s been months now, since Lauren offered to help Bo reign in her succubus hunger. In that time, Bo’s fed on countless fey, and with each one, her control has improved.

Now, she’s ready, more than ready, to prove herself worthy. Today, she gets her first human. If the poor schmuck lives after a feeding, she’s got the clear.

One final test

That’s what Lauren had said. One final test, and she gets the Ash’s approval to roam the streets without Dyson watching her every move like a personal watchdog. She can almost taste the freedom.

Bo grins.

Don’t kill the human. Piece of cake.

Turning the last corner, Bo comes to an abrupt halt. Her grin fades and confusion takes its place.

“Dyson?” she asks, the question lilting in her voice. “What are you doing here?”

Her sometimes babysitter and full-time fey flashes Bo a humorless smile before replying. “Somebody’s gotta witness your test.”

“What? Why?” Bo says, frowning. “Lauren’s got it covered. You can go.” Dyson’s never shown up at lesson before and having him here now can only mean badness. It’s really the last thing she needs.

Incredulity colors Dyson’s voice when he answers. “She really didn’t tell you.”

“Tell me what?” Bo asks.

“Lauren isn’t your witness,” he says, catching her eyes, willing her to understand. “She’s your test.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Bo asks; certain she’s misunderstood. There’s no way he’s implying what she thinks he is. No way.

“Did you never consider the Ash’s reason for allowing you training after what you did?” Dyson asks.

Bo raises an eyebrow at the non-sequitur but answers anyways. “Color me crazy, but I figured they’d rather have a trained succubus than one that ends up killing all over the place.”

Dyson shakes his head and sighs, a world of weary wisdom echoing in the sound. “You really aren’t versed in the ways of our kind. Sometimes I forget that—”

“So educate me,” Bo growls. She’s so tired of the cloak and dagger bullshit all the fey insist on. Their culture is an entirely foreign concept to her, and oftentimes, the reminder that she didn’t grow up fey stings more than she’d like admit. Bo’s always dreamed of finding her own parents, of belonging. Yet now that she’s finally found her own kind, she’s never felt so alone.

Dyson hesitates before nodding once. This, he can give her, if nothing else. “Your renegade status forbids any succubus, light or dark, from touching you, let alone training you. Still, you required training. The Doctor volunteered. It amused the Ash to accept. This final test? The risk of her life is the price for the bargain.”

God. Not Lauren. Anybody but her. In the wake of panic, only one word remains.

Fuck. The sensation of falling is almost overwhelming and the confidence she’s achieved in the last few months flees. Fuck.

Without meaning to, her mind reverts back to the memories of past murders. Names disappear and the faces blur, but the sensation of waking next to cold flesh and the stark reality of death always stay.

Somewhere in the haze of panic, she notices Dyson has guided her into the inner courtyard. Bo can see Lauren waiting in the center.

Releasing her arm, Dyson leans in. “I trust you to succeed,” he says, his low voice chasing goosebumps across her spine. “I’m rather fond of Lauren and it would be rather difficult for us to find a new doctor should she perish.”

When she doesn’t reply, he propels her forward and smiles. “Good luck.” The smile reaches his eyes and she can tell he really means it. That doesn’t stop her from hating him for it.

Asshole.

* * * * *

There is a moment of utter silence that stretches between them as Bo takes in the doctor’s countenance; Lauren’s honey blond hair is up in a bun and she’s wearing her usual white lab coat and uncertain goofy smile. Genuine warmth radiates from her like a furnace and Bo can’t stop thinking about how cold it will be without that heat.

From the beginning, Lauren’s been the one person Bo’s been able to trust. Ever ready with answers no one else was willing to give, Lauren’s been there for her. The thought of ending the one person whose shown her kindness kills something inside of her. And beneath all that, there is the thought of betrayal: etched deep under her skin, past the sorrow, past the pain and beyond the worry; there is betrayal.

Lauren should have told her. Bo had—has— the right to know.

The thought is probably what prompts the viciousness of her next question. “Don’t you think dying in a lab coat is a little drab?”

The question hangs and echoes through the length of the courtyard and Lauren stops smiling. Bo regrets her question almost immediately, but can’t seem to retract the words. Instead she moves on to her real question.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” she says, running a hand through the length of her dark locks. “I wouldn’t have asked for your help if I’d known this was the cost.”

Lauren’s smile comes back at the inquiry: soft and gentle like the sun peaking through a haze of clouds. “Exactly,” she says quietly, “You would never have done it, and you needed training.”

“Because you could die!” Bo says, resisting the urge to reach out and shake the other woman out of rage and frustration. “Don’t you fucking get it? You could die!”

“And if I had been someone else?” Lauren asks, leaving the rest of the statement unsaid. They both know Bo wouldn’t have a problem with any other human. Hell, she was sure she’d pass with flying colors not a few moments ago. But this is Lauren, and it’s something that the other woman doesn’t seem to understand. Bo cares about what happens to her.

Impossibly, Lauren seems to read Bo’s mind. Reaching out, Lauren tucks a dark fall of hair behind Bo’s ear and forces Bo to meet her eyes. In them, Bo sees nothing but solid resolve. “It’s not up to you,” Lauren says softly, as though speaking to a small child. “It’s always been my decision and I trust you.”

“What if I hurt you? Maybe we should put this off. You know, a couple months. Maybe I can talk to the Ash, maybe—”

“Shh,” Lauren says, brushing her lips softly against Bo’s to hush her. “I trust you.”

“But—”

“Shh,” Lauren hushes again.

Bo takes a moment to gather herself, then, nodding once, she reaches forward and steps into Lauren’s space, lips hovering above the doctor’s.

“One last chance to back down,” she whispers.

Dr. Lauren smirks. “I’ll pass.”

Bo returns Lauren’s smile with her own watery one before closing the rest of the distance between them. When their lips touch, the familiar tug of life is electric. It is everywhere: Nowhere. Just another element of her domain. Here, Bo is mistress of life and giver of death. Energy swirls and surges through her like lighting riding on the wind; desire bursts like succulent berries on her tongue; and the urge to just take take take what is hers overshadows all else.

She knows, somewhere in the back of her mind, that she has to stop—that this is wrong, but it’s such a small voice. Hardly more than a blip next to the tempest swirling inside her. And yet…and yet.

In the distance, Bo hears a soft whimper; an echo of sound that calls out to her own humanity. It rings for only a moment, but it’s enough. The siren’s call of power and life and fulfillment quiet, and Bo is able to pull back; reminded of who she is.

Opening her eyes, she blinks and takes in Lauren’s bleary smile. The doctor is limp in her arms, but Bo’s grip keeps her upright.

“Wow,” Lauren says. “Wow.”

Bo smirks back. “I kind of have that effect on people.”

Lauren chuckles. “You most certainly do,” she says, still a bit dazed. “That was very…uh…educational.”

Bo feels a jolt of what can only be joy at the evidence of her control. She’s gazed into the deepest heart of the beast and come out on top. There’s only one thing left to do really. Bo leans back down. “Want some more schooling?”

Lauren’s delighted laughter is answer enough. The sound washes over her like a warm tropical breeze, and that’s when Bo knows:

They will be okay.

This isn’t life or death and there aren’t any succubus powers at play. It’s just Lauren and Bo.

Just Lauren and Bo...making out.

She smiles into their next kiss.

* * * * *

Unnoticed by the other two women, Dyson looks in on his charge fondly. He’s never doubted. Still smiling, he disappears back into the darkness. It is good news he will be carrying back to the Ash this evening.

Well done, Bo. Well done.

~ ~ ~