Pairing: Tamsin/Lauren, Copdoc, minor doccubus moments,
Rating: M
Disclaimer: I'm a puppeteer and sadly do not own Lost Girl.
Lauren Lewis held her shoulders high and her expression neutral as she sat in an uncomfortable chair in a sterile room while having an equally uncomfortable meeting with several of her colleagues.
She looked to her right at Dr. Jensen, an old, unkempt man twenty years her senior. She felt sorry for the man and gave him a sympathetic smile when he locked his panicked eyes onto her calm ones. He didn't hide his emotions like Lauren had learned to do.
The poor man had coffee stains in his shirt, but Lauren can completely understand why. He had a family and a mortgage to take care of. Really, the biggest contributor for their (would have been) continued success was pulling out in a cruel game of political chess with no remorse. It was more common that she wanted to admit, so she took it in stride.
"Doctor Lewis, would you please go over your inventory for the west wing labs?" A voice, one she remembered she was supposed to be listening to, pulled her from her thoughts.
She inhaled an elongated breath to collect her thoughts and focused on her papers stacked neatly in front of her. Her voice travelled with intent, bold and confident despite the current circumstance.
"Our current stock is actually quite impressive. Since no expense was spared at startup, we have enough machines to more than break even."
"You are sure of this?"
Lauren gave a curt nod and continued, "More than, even. In fact, we'll be able to pay back all debts and distribute a decent severance pay to all twenty eight employees. Now, lets start with the 3D printers in the stem cell division, shall we?"
The meeting carried on through her entire workday. Chopping up the company assets to sell caused Lauren to suffer one of the worst cases of boredom she'd experienced in years to which she masked in careful subtlety.
Added to the clusterfuck was the fact that everyone there will be out of a job in a week.
And those beautiful machines she'd admired were going to be out of her hands? She was going to miss those the most.
The drive home was done in robotic movements and an autopilot, hazy state of mind. Once she crossed the front door of her apartment and lazily discarded her coat and keys, she shed the most of the tension through a shaky sigh and plopped herself down into her office chair. She felt her resolve to remain impassive fall away, and she let her muscles release its stiffness.
Tilting her head back, she inspected her home, elegant and blanketed in warm colors with a sad smile. She would miss this place from her impressive herbal collection in her massive garden to the beautiful hardwood floors.
It wasn't that she couldn't afford to float. That would be laughable for any member of the Lewis family. No, it was the fact that she made a promise to her mother to watch her little sister. Her sister, though only half her blood, was near and dear to her heart. Despite a small fall out, she missed her insufferable bratty sibling.
Aside from that, Lauren hated to be idle. She had a bucket list she could now pursue.
She looked at the letter atop the desk and took it into her hands to read for the dozenth time, a 'thank you for your service' letter with an official seal at the top. It seemed too tacky, but it was still nice to have some final recognition for her work, even if on a tacky letter.
The letter ended with a, "We thank you for your valuable contribution in the Ashton Fareigh Institute, and we wish you good luck on your next professional endeavor."
Lauren let go of the paper, let it drop onto the desk in her home office, and pinched the bridge of her nose with her thumb and forefinger in a muted defeat.
When she accepted this one-in-a-lifetime job at the institute years before, she had the knowledge that it had private donors in high places, securing her position until retirement should she want to stay that long. Over the last year, the funds came through at a slowly declining rate. But, it was the one major contributor backing out to run the place to the ground, leaving her jobless.
But, Lauren was cushioned with wealth, always had been. She was financially stable and smart with how she spends (and not spends) her money that she projected she can float in an idle state for at least ten more years.
And if that failed, it will only take a phone call to her grandmother for instant access to the family estate.
She closed her eyes and shook that thought out of her head. There would be a rainy day in hell before she went crawling to Grandma Lewis with her tail between her legs.
That drum in her head was pounding a relentless beat, so she reached in her drawer and pulled out a bottle of scotch, poured it into a nearby glass, and sat in quiet respite while sipping from her glass.
Feeling the long day take drain away, she picked up her cell phone and dialed the only number she can think of, the number to the only person she wanted to talk to at that moment.
"Yo, Doctor Freeze, this better be good because this lil mama has been bidding on the entire Jungle Jeeves set on blu-ray."
"What? Kenzi, that can't be how you're spending your first paycheck," Lauren admonished.
"No, of course not. Give me some cred. That's why I'm bidding on ebay. Cheap stuff. Also, I totes got like a ton left over. Plus, I can always call you if I run out."
Lauren let out an aggravated breath.
"Kenzi," she began.
"Two minutes left! I gotta go. Call you in three minutes!"
The phone call ended abruptly and Lauren just sat there, blinking at her phone for ten whole seconds before hitting redial on her phone.
"Oh my god, I need both hands, Lo. I need this!"
Lauren shook her head at Kenzi despite knowing she couldn't see her.
"You don't need Jungle Jeeves, Mackenzie!" Lauren stated firmly and heard a gasp through the phone.
"Be still my heart. You wound me! Take that back or I'm telling Mom you were the one who destroyed her wedding dress at the country club."
Lauren rolled her eyes. "You can't be serious right now."
"As an IRS agent. I'm so telling her in my next visit."
"You weren't even at the last Christmas dinner!"
"Yeah, well neither were you!"
Lauren smiled just a little, her eyes soft with a hint of sadness as she continued, "I made sure grandma Lewis cleaned her grave and set new flowers."
"Stargazers, only, right? That's the only kind she liked."
"Of course," Lauren assured.
"Well, now I don't have the promise of Jungle Jeeves anymore. Some douche named skaterbob beat me out," Kenzi sighed dramatically. "So, what's up?"
"Remember that job I had?"
"Oh, Tits.. that's not a promising way to start news." Then, after a beat,"Um..Where you gonna work now? Are you gonna work? 'Cause, you totes need like a bagillion years off..and a tan. Go all Bahama, mama!"
She got her teaching certification on top of the mountain of accomplishments she acquired at her time at Yale.
So, it was no surprise that school administration at her new job doted on her, excited to have an up-and-coming scientist in the genetic circle. (She may be semi well-known, at least to those in the medical field, for several of her experiments at Ashton Fareigh). UC Berkeley offered a job in no time, along with many other universities and labs, but none of them had Kenzi. So, UC Berkeley wasn't an Ivy League or really that esteemed, but it offered more time with her half-sister, and that had been lacking the past several years.
Now she stood in front of the UC Berkeley campus a month after that dreadful meeting, amidst a sea of college freshmen wandering aimlessly through the campus grounds. The slightly more experienced students walked with their heads downward in an attempt to memorize their fruitful schedules.
Lauren remembered being that eager and hungry. Even now, she hungered, and she figured that this job is another learning experience in the art of teaching… sort of like tallying a bullet off a career bucket list…until she finds a decent research institute that will give her what she needs: Stability, top-of-the-line technology, and respect. Again. If she'll ever find that again.
She looked to her left where Kenzi stood looking ridiculous in her leather platform boots, a corset, and missed matched accessories that she somehow made work.
And that disturbing backpack she loved.
"Why do you insist on carrying your things in that eyesore of a bag?"
"Hey! You did not insult the bag!"
"It has a weird alien thing with stitches on the side of his head, and it's eating a taco." Really, what was the appeal in that?
"Tell me again why you want to play chaperone? I can't learn knowing my big sister is keep an eye out for me. God knows my freaking biology teacher has a massive hard-on for you. You should have seen her crazy, stalker eyes," Kenzi rambled and shivered at the last part of her rant.
Amused, Lauren raised an eyebrow at her.
"Professor Malcolm has an erection? As a sixty-three year old woman, Kenzi? Really?"
"When she found out - found out, Lauren- she asked me all coy-like, 'You're Doctor Lewis' little sister, right?' I'm pretty sure she googled you. God, that sounds so wrong in my mouth. We don't even have the same last names, for crying out loud!"
Lauren laughed; Kenzi always found a way to lighten the mood. She had wanted to get more acquainted with the area of Berkeley in general, but she found herself tagging along with Kenzi to campus, to which the girl whined and muttered about being embarrassed and loosing her street cred.
"Alright, Lo. I got class in five minutes. Art doesn't paint itself! Don't get lost!"
"Kenzi, wait! Do you have work tonight?"
"Oh yeah, but don't wait up. We have a full load tonight."
She watched the girl strut toward her class and furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. Kenzi never did disclose exactly what she did for her new job. When Kenzi called to assure her she got a job, all she said to Lauren was, "Oh yeah, it's just my type of thing. Don't worry; it's legit. I get free food and the occasional wine. "
She knew better than to ask questions; it'd only leave her more confused in the end. That, or furious.
She did, however make a mental note to ask about it later. At the moment, she had a laboratory to inspect.
"You have got to be fucking me, Evony," Tamsin said, her eyebrows set high on her forehead.
"Nice choice in words."
"You know what I meant. This isn't funny."
"Am I known for my humor?" The Dean of UC Berkeley sat, poised and calm, behind a mahogany desk. Shiny and in clear sight at the front of her desk was a metal name sign.
Doctor Evony Marquis. She was every bit beautiful as she was a pain in Tamsin's ass.
Knowing the meeting was going to be short (Tamsin had class in twenty minutes anyway), she didn't take the offered seat.
"Actually, y-," Tamsin began, because, Evony can be downright hilarious. It's just that she never meant to be.
"Not the point," Evony replied. She flicked a hand dismissively. " Mr. Anders sadly passed away two nights ago."
Tamsin bristled and placed a hand on each side of her own head and massaged her temples to avoid what could be a full-blown migraine.
"Shit. I'm sorry to hear that," Tamsin said. She shifted from one foot to the other. "But, I have a full work load already with those little shits. Can't you get one of the newbies to do it?" Her voice bordered on the edge of desperation, and she hated that Evony saw her vulnerabilities come out to play far too many times.
"Not anyone that I can pay at half salary. You'd get half salary in addition to what you're already being paid," Evony replied. She leaned forward and placed her hands on her desk, folding her hands.
Tamsin sighed and expelled a short, bitter chuckle. "So, you really don't want to pay two salaries and you're suckering me into it."
"Take it or leave it, honey."
"No. I don't need the money, and, like I said: I have too much of a workload already."
"Okay. I didn't want to have to pull out the big guns. But if you do this, you'll be up for that tenured spot you've been after for the past three years."
Tamsin closed her eyes and inhaled a shaky breath as she shook her head. "That is not cool. I- god- I can't stand the snotty attitude from the lower level classes. They've got no appreciation for the studies yet and expect their hands to be held while they come to class with hangovers."
"We all have to make sacrifices, Doctor Warwick." Evony said, her voice low and filled with a bit more force and professionalism than displayed since the beginning of the meeting. If her hard tone wasn't any indication of how serious she was, the title and last name would have been the key tell. "And, might I add that you were one of those students with hangovers."
Finally sensing the seriousness of the situation and the growing temptation at the prize offered, Tamsin took the seat that had been neglected.
"You're not making this easy."
Evony pursed her lips and leaned back in her chair. "Okay. Here's the deal. You'll only get two extra classes. But, you have to fill in the extra counseling spot for three hours a week." She took in a breath and added an eye-roll and added, "Fine. You get double Salary."
"Oh for fuck's sake," Tamsin hissed and felt her resolve loosen.
"I knew you'd come around."
"You owe me a round at the bar after my last class lets out."
"Never change, Tammy," Evony teased, and just like that, the tension in the air left.
"Oh fuck off with that Tammy shit. I didn't let you call me that when we were dating. Why would I allow that now?"
"Because, sweetheart, I'm giving you your tenure on a silver, shiny platter with my ass on the line."
"Whatever. I'm going to buy Mrs. Anders some flowers or something."
"Oh, by the way, you're going to be giving the newest chemistry department head a tour tomorrow."
Tamsin rose to her feet, turned around, and as she walked, muttered a very audible, "I hate you."
"So you say every week."
