Stepmothers are for hating
A/N: Obviously if the writers for that particular episode (Bo Me Once) had written it such that Kate, and not her brother, had picked Lauren up, it would be so much easier to ship this pairing (and all the potential screencaps!). But that's what alternate universes are for, I guess! Written in a hurry because I have work tomorrow, so forgive the weird sentence structures or incoherence et cetera. Written as a one-shot, for now.
Kate almost couldn't find Lauren when she arrived at the park. Her stepmother - oh, how that word makes her blood curdle! - was sprawled in the most unseemingly manner on a bench, her coat unbuttoned, her usually tightly-coiled blonde hair unravelling at the edges of her bun. A bottle of scotch, half empty, was held protectively in the woman's hand. Her other hand cradled her briefcase like it was a baby.
"I don't believe this," Kate laughed aloud, smirking as a woman walked her son hurriedly past Lauren, disdain apparent on her face. She walked up to the bench and stared at the woman who has made her life a living hell ever since her father died. There was no reason why she should be here. She had cases to handle, deadlines looming, and she hated Lauren. If anyone had more reason NOT to come to Lauren's rescue, it would be her.
But Lauren did call Kate, for some reason or other. Even though Kate Reed was Lauren's stepdaughter, of the same age, and her biggest enemy. Yet Lauren sounded so... un-Lauren on the phone. She was clearly drunk. Judging from her state of intoxication now, anyone lit up a cigarette around Lauren they would set the air on fire. Kate took out her mobile phone. Old habits died hard, and Kate still bored grudges, too many to count, against the woman. She snapped a photo.
"Lauren, wake up," Kate said, when she was done. She pushed the woman's shoulder, her eyes widening when Lauren slumped further in the bench. She caught the woman before she fell face first onto the bench. "Hey, it's me, Kate."
Lauren opened her eyes. She looked disoriented, dishevelled. Everything Kate knew her stepmother wasn't. Lauren burped. "Kate. Nice afternoon in the park, isn't it?" She tried to sit up and missed. "I tried to call Spencer, actually, but I missed his name and dialled your numberer instead."
"That explained a lot," Kate said drily. She put an arm under Lauren. "We're getting you home. I've cases to mediate today, remember?"
"Of courrse," Lauren mumbled. She tottered to her feet unsteadily, gripping Kate tightly for support. The difference in height meant that Lauren had to tilt over Kate a little. "You mustn't give up with your cases, Kate. You're too good to lose."
Even though Kate was struggling with Lauren along the park towards the street, she glanced up at her arch-nemesis, eyebrow arched. Lauren smelled like scotch and cigarettes and there was chalk on her chin. "Who are you, and where did my sober bitch of a stepmother go?"
Lauren let out a laugh. "She plays a mean game of billards, and don't they know it! But between you and me," Lauren's eyes darted around, a bit wildly. "She can't handle her liquor very well. And she hates scotch!" Lauren waved the bottle around, narrowly avoiding braining a man walking by.
"You don't say," Kate said, more amazed by the sound that came out of Lauren when she laughed. Kate never knew the witch was capable of joy, or laughter. From the corner of her eye, something yellow approached from the distance.
"TAXI!"
Kate had to wake Lauren up again when the cab reached her dad's... Lauren's place. The woman had fallen asleep again in the cab. Sleep was a miraculous thing, Kate thought, studying the way Lauren's brows furrowed even when she slept. People were supposed to be at their most defenseless when they were asleep, but Lauren managed to look unflappable and dispassionate and stressed even when she was unconscious. And sodding drunk, too. Kate wondered what dreams Lauren had, if she dreamed of Teddy, her dead husband. If she dreamt of Teddy, what did he look like? (But then again, wasn't it like asking if androids dream of electric sheep? Lauren, the robot bitch of the west, probably dreams in binary digits and currency.)
Kate squashed the pang of pain that the memory of her father brought back. She has had countless dreams of her father but she could remember none of them. Seeing Lauren like this made her want to hate the woman all over again. But Teddy taught his daughter to be bigger than that - at least, whenever she can remember to be - and she carried her stepmother up the stairs to the front door.
Lauren was in no state to open the door, so Kate did it for her, after fishing the keys out of the woman's briefcase. The house Kate grew up in looked freakishly the same as she remembered it before she moved out. She was disappointed. It would be one more thing to hate Lauren for, if the lawyer had changed the furniture or shifted things around after Teddy died. Like she was trying to erase his memories. But she wasn't, and Kate could see her father's indelible print on the choice of paintings, pictures, upholstery everywhere she looked. Lauren had quietened when she entered the house, and she looked sadder, but Kate did not notice.
Both women, grieving in their own way for the man in their lives, struggled up the stairs to the bedrooms. Kate dropped the woman unceremoniously on the bed.
"My job is done," Kate said, dusting her hands. She felt colder towards the woman. At first she did it because she was furious at her for marrying her father, when she was so young and beautiful and he was supposed to know better. But now the man was dead, and the rage was more reflex than anything else. Sometimes Kate didn't even know why she was still so mad at the woman, but it was a comfortable emotion to go back to when she had to drop her stepmother in the bedroom that her father used to sleep in.
Lauren pushed herself up from the bed with some effort. "Kate, don't go."
"What do you want me to do now?" Kate asked, exasperated. "I brought you home. It's more than what I expected myself to do."
Lauren licked her lips. She sat up straight, tidied her hair - missing her head a few times - to look more sober than she obviously wasn't. "I want us to fix things, Kate. Between us there is so much animosity. It's unhealthy."
"You're the same age as me, and you're my stepmother. It's unhealthy enough as it is," Kate snapped. She raised her hands, palm facing Lauren. "Look, we'll fight tomorrow in office, as we usually do. Now you're drunk and I barely understand what you're saying anyway."
"Please," Lauren said, her voice breaking. Kate's eyes widened when she espied, could it be? Tears in the woman's eyes. The sight took the mediator by so much surprise she didn't realise Lauren had a hand wrapped around her wrist. "I really want things to be good between us. You're so much like Teddy, do you know? Listening to you talk, watching you around the office, is enough to make my heart break all over again. Like when he died." Lauren stood up, swaying. Her hair was half undone and it fell across one shoulder.
Kate couldn't see her stepmother for the tears welling up in her own eyes. "Shut up, don't talk about him that way. You don't have any right. How long were you married to him for you to talk about him and me that way?" She pushed the woman away.
Lauren grabbed Kate by the arms. "No, no..." They struggled, and Kate tried one of her Taekwondo moves. It would have been perfect if she could toss the stupid woman into the air, kick her into oblivion or Kansas or wherever the hell she came from. One of them lost her balance and Lauren fell onto Kate on the floor.
Lauren pushed herself up by her elbows, then she grasped Kate's face. "When I met you, despite your obvious hatred of me, I thought I could love you. I still think I could." She kissed Kate, then slumped back into unconsciousness.
Kate gasped, then her mouth gaped. "What in the..."