'Thank you…for this.' Bo blinks and looks away, sad bewilderment and resent vying for top spot in the intensifying medley of her emotions.
She wills herself to focus on the somewhat more important task at hand – finding the second hell shoe and getting one step closer to ending all this Wanderer crap – instead of the way the ache in her chest seems to be spreading exponentially throughout her whole body. The crack becoming crevice becoming crater. Every time they force themselves into this awkward, out of place dance around each other.
She could reach out and have her; physically, she's here and Bo can see – as she's always seen – that she'd be receptive. But though it might be what both of them want, it wouldn't be what either of them needs. Well that's not strictly true; Bo feels so tightly coiled, so pent up that 'need' might actually be quite accurate. But it wouldn't be anywhere near enough. Lauren is not mere sustenance to Bo; to feed from her might alleviate the tension for a while but in the end it would only leave Bo feeling emptier and craving something more. Something out of reach.
'You said that already.' Lauren chews gently on the inside corner of her mouth, her head playfully bobbing left to right, counting out Bo's expressions of gratitude. 'Four times actually.'
Bo still doesn't relax. She continues to unload the box that had remained in Kenzi's room since her first foray into Dyson's memories, haphazardly tossing things onto the bed. Hazardously actually, Lauren acknowledges, hastily crossing the room towards her and – without really thinking about it – reaching around from behind to still Bo's hands with her own. For a long moment after the contact is initiated they're suspended in an indecisive loop of daring and denial. Breath halts, returns shallow then evens out as they simultaneously surrender into one another, into comfort.
Lauren can smell Bo's shampoo, feel the restrained rise and fall of herself against Bo's back. Knows that if Bo just turns around, or if she leans in that little bit further, they'll be lost. And it'll be amazing, but then all of this will be even harder, and they'll both break a little bit more.
'This is delicate – '
Bo sighs, stepping out of Lauren's feather-light embrace and turning to face her.
'I know,' she huffs, exasperated. 'And I'm trying, I am really trying to do what's right and focus on the bigger picture because I know there is so much more going on beyond what feels like my heart being torn from my chest every time I even think of us, of what we were and what we've become – I do know that! I know we have bigger decisions to make and bigger battles to fight right now, and things are so fragile and so fucked up and we need to be so careful, but when I stop…' The ghost of a tiny smile dares to pull at Bo's lips before reality can catch it. '…even for just a second, to imagine a life after all this, a future…you're in every version. I cannot do this without you; I don't want to do it without you, Lauren.'
Lauren watches Bo close her mouth around her name and wishes the ground would open up and swallow them both whole so that they could escape the confines of their situation, together and blameless. The embers of resent she'd been working so hard to smother begin to flicker in the pit of her stomach, threatening angry flames to burn her from the inside out. Even by Fae standards these last few months have been excessively tumultuous, and though Lauren has long known that life in general rarely achieves perfect or lasting balance, she can't help but feel that, for them, it just isn't fair. They've both spent years paying their dues and the debts of others besides – when will it end?
She steps towards Bo, balling her hand into a fist and pressing it against her bellybutton to stop herself from reaching out again. Bo's beautiful face is a battlefield of confliction – her strength and vulnerability laid bare before her – and Lauren is all at once in awe and scared of just how much she'd sacrifice for her; of the mutuality of such a tragically romantic notion. She's never felt so wholly empowered but is equally weakened by the responsibility it imbues. She must stay strong – not just for the two of them and any chance they may have of a future, but for everyone around them, all those relying on them. She just hopes Bo understands. She hopes she has faith enough to wait.
'I meant the Tourmaline.' She clears the croak from her voice, lifting the flecked grey crystal in what she knows is feeble distraction. 'It's delicate. And rare in this shade and size; I don't think I can risk taking any more from the dark labs just yet. Evony and I…' She trails off at the flare in Bo's eyes, not because she's afraid – they're long past that – but because no part of her wants to cause any part of Bo any more pain.
'Bo, I want her to trust me. That doesn't mean that I will ever trust her.'
'"Evony, "' Bo mimics, sardonically. 'Are you –'
Heavy footsteps – or rather, heavy shoes – on the stairs distract the unappeased Succubus and within seconds, Kenzi is clattering across the floorboards towards them, arms raised and palms out in protest.
'Woah, woah, no!' One hand lowers to perch on her hip whilst the other is raised, one finger wagging in warning. 'It is one thing to have these angsty-ass vibes all over the rest of the house – hells am I used to that, it's part of what makes this hizouse a home. Y'know, along with the malevolent, the maniacal, and the just plain murderous loveable rogues that pretty much show up daily, with or without an invite. But the inner sanctum? I know I've been telling you two to get a room – an opinion by which I still stand – but not my room, not again. What you two got up to in here when you weren't all torn and forlorn crossed boundaries I didn't even know existed, not to mention I just got done raising a child up in here. Now, I am of course pro-sexy time in all its many, many guises, and as previously implied, you two are so much easier to deal with when you are, y'know, dealing with each other, but stick to your own personal space…and outfits - I'm looking at you, Bobo; suspenders are not for sharezees, especially when they're bespoke. Now, I lurrrve you both dearly and I am so totally down with this mind-meld sequel, although if it needs doing, someone else has to scrub D down this time because Hale was so not the happy singsong Siren about that little deet, let me tell ya. But then, one of you doing it is just gonna put us back say two years and no one wants to circle back to that triangle, so that just leaves one of the guys, and I can tell you right now, my boy aint bathing his boy, and Trick…well that would just be weird even for our wacked out tribe, plus y'know, he's like, royalty, and then there's Vex who, I suspect would be a little too up for it if you know what I mean, and he'd insist on dress-up and restraints, maybe even stealing the Una Mens' chains and we'd just end up in an even thicker sliced shit sandwich than we already are so okay, okay, if you insist I have to take this one for the team, I will. Man, that ended up so far from where it started out that I'm not even sure what the intended destination was but please leave before you harsh my mellow anymore.'
'Wow.' Lauren nods her head, equal parts genuinely impressed with, and suspicious of, her overzealous tirade. 'Even for you that was pretty…wow.'
'I may have channelled the scandalously passionate Pope and Associates a little bit there – oh and B. T. Dubs, new eppy next week, so if we could try and wrap all this dark, Wanderer, Una Mens, hell shoe stuff up before then, that'd be great, go Gladiators! Holy dry-mouth, no wonder Olivia drinks so much wine, this… ' She circles her rapidly moving lips with a glossy red fingernail. '…is thirsty work. But I digress and the point remains - get going gals.'
Lauren rolls her eyes at the younger woman who now stands with arms folded and one five-inch platform-shoed foot tapping exaggeratedly.
'I actually need to pick up a few more things anyway so – '
'From your new dark dwellings? Take Bo with you.'
'Kenz!' Bo snaps, finally ending what felt to Lauren like a precarious build-up of morose hush. 'I get it okay – unwanted. Loud and clear.' She stalks towards the stairway, shoulders slumped and eyes cast downwards.
Kenzi's semi-serious resolve falters at the unexpected weight in Bo's voice; upsetting her BFF was not what she'd intended, but the unshed tears straining Bo's words are not simply – probably not at all – down to her little diatribe and they all know it. These two have been stuck in this shit-storm of tortuous tension for weeks now, and Kenzi has tried everything short of locking them up with chocolate body paint and a Nicole Conn boxset to get them to sort it out. And she knows it's more complicated than that – this is one hurt that Bo cannot heal with sex alone – but sometimes you just have to make it simple, start small. The funny thing is, everyone else can see it but them; Bo and Lauren are inextricable – trying to pull apart is futile and dangerous, and rendering them weak.
'No, I just meant…' Her ice-blue eyes look to Lauren, widely imploring her to 'fix this' as her arms contort into overly complex gestures in a bid to communicate that the blonde should have prevented it in the first place. 'Y'know, it's gotta be dangerous at Los Dark Douchery, and you are technically dark so for safety in numbers and all that, you should go, y'know…together.'
Bo has stopped but her back remains on the room so Kenzi continues her crazy 'help me' gesticulating until Lauren relents.
'Hale coming?' Lauren tries for mildly suggestive mocking but – blaming a combination of circumstance, Kenzi's desperate, distracting movements, and her own residual shit - lurches clumsily into lewd.
Kenzi screws up her face, mouthing 'what the fuck, doc?' and shaking her head in disbelief at Lauren's slightly embarrassed shrug.
'Yep...that's it. Getting my naughty on.'
As Lauren passes on her way to Bo and the stairs, Kenzi goes to shoot her one last glare but realises the air is so shrouded in sad hesitance around them both that she softens and waves her on encouragingly instead. She could swear she hears Bo grumble something about 'a girl's needs' as she reluctantly follows Lauren out, and Kenzi flops dramatically onto her bed, exhausted by the excessive – even for them – emotional turmoil of late.
'Or I get my nap on and you two hopefully do us all a favour and get YOUR naughty on. Sheesh, bend before you break, ladies, bend before you break.'
What she needs isn't at the dark lab but Lauren doesn't tell Bo that. In fact, she and Bo don't talk for the entire journey, not until Bo realises Lauren has driven them to the light compound. Even then, they don't so much converse as monosyllabically acknowledge that their ability to enter is one perk of having Trick as acting Ash.
They walk the corridors without words, ignoring the eerie quiet of the now mostly unused space and the sleeves of their jackets occasionally brushing against each other. Bo doesn't ask where Lauren is leading or what it is they seek because it really doesn't matter; she'll follow regardless. As they approach the door to Lauren's old apartment, she casts a side-eyed glance at the fully-focused blonde and feels that familiar tug in the pit of her stomach, can't catch the resigned sigh before it escapes her parted lips.
'Bo? What's wrong?' Lauren stops immediately, causing Bo to gain a few steps on her for which the frustrated brunette is grateful.
She can't so this – not now, maybe not ever! The whole world is going to hell – quite literally in some senses – and all she really, truly wants is… She can't even bring herself to admit her selfishness. Not again. Not when Lauren is clearly – and Bo has to begrudgingly admit, admirably – resolved.
'It's nothing. Come on, we'd better – '
As always, Lauren sees her; her hand has a delicate grip on Bo's wrist, silently demanding a truth that she probably already knows. Bo sighs again – purposefully this time, louder – and turns to face Lauren's voiceless inquisition. Their exchange remains silent but so palpable it almost causes the air around them to visually vibrate. Bo's eyes are sad and electric all at once, somehow a mirrored alternative to the lopsided quirk of Lauren's wistful smile. There's so much in their lives right now that neither of them can control or even understand; so much uncertainty, so many directions they're respectively and exclusively being pulled in, so much piling up against them, so much change, so much that needs their attention so much more, but this…this constant, this centre continues to pull them back. And this is one thing they do know with absolute certainty, one thing they know exactly how to fix, even if only for now.
But they can't.
Lauren shakes herself out of it first, breaks the bond, mentally and physically, jerking her hand away and offering nothing but an apologetic smile in the face of Bo's dejection.
'We should – '
'Yeah.' Bo's voice is laden with tears and all the things they both wish they could say but know they shouldn't.
Bo looks so lost that Lauren almost flinches. She has always carried an edge of reckless optimism; a volatility that somehow keeps her stalwart in her moral ideals and pursuit of the ever-better. But as Lauren looks at her now, she realises that edge - that element of difference that has always stood out - is beginning to fade, and she berates herself for her part in threatening the hero they all know and need Bo to be. And though she wants nothing more than to take her in her arms fully, forever, she makes herself turn away for the second time that afternoon, opening and walking through the door.
The inside of Lauren's old apartment is barren but for the larger items of furniture she'd neither dared nor wanted to take. Her personal belongings and most of her professional works had been shipped to her new lab and lodgings as per her instructions, but in all the Una Mens, dark Fae and Morrigan chaos, she'd lost track of a few things, inevitably left them behind. They greet her with ill-timed memories, rushing her senses in a suffocating reunion until she closes herself off to them so she can continue.
Bo follows her up the stairs as though it's nothing, and Lauren quickly reminds herself it ought to be. They're here simply to collect some old journals, nothing more. Maybe Bo isn't even considering where their steps lead, the last time they'd taken them, or what awaits them at the top. Maybe her thoughts remain on the task – and path – at hand. As Lauren's should.
She strides into the bedroom with a renewed – albeit forced and already waning – sense of purpose, but as she turns to direct Bo to look in the chest behind the door, she finds her holding an old familiar and she knows instantly that Bo's thinking had never left her at all.
'I don't think I realised until just now just how much I miss this.' Bo's voice and eyes are husky and heavy with unrivalled, unapologetic lust, and she slowly approaches Lauren with a look already rejecting any idea of challenge. 'Put it on.'
The third time really is the indisputable charm.
A joke about Bo dressing her being an unexpected change crosses briefly through her mind but she realises it almost doesn't make sense. Because Bo holding up the sleeves of her lab coat for her to slip into is somehow the equivalent familiar of her tearing her clothes off. At least, the sensations it elicits are the same. The all-encompassing, paradoxical tingling stillness is the same. The want is the same.
Lauren slides into the crisp white coat, into herself, and simultaneously out of everything that's been holding her back. She rotates herself slowly in Bo's arms, redundantly attempting one last clasp at resolve by coasting her lips against Bo's cheek and ear rather than directly where they yearn to go.
'Bo…' she gasps, one final warning.
But Bo's had enough. And her limited willpower store is shot to shit. She crosses her wrists just below Lauren's ass and lifts her off the ground with ease, encouraging strong thighs to wrap around her waist. She tilts her head so Lauren's mouth is directly above hers but she doesn't kiss her, not yet. Instead she holds her steady, intoxicating gaze, breathes in her hitched breath, enjoys the simple exquisite feel of her skin on her skin, an intimacy somehow so intense and so whole that it's almost all she needs.
And then they fall – literally, figuratively, emotionally, every which fucking way they possibly can – into each other. Their lips crush, hips crash, bodies clash as they hit the bed they've shared so many times before and melt into one another. Lauren's legs remain bent around Bo, holding her to her as though she fears she'd float away upon release when she knows beyond all doubt that this is the only place either of them wants to be.
They leave the lab coat on, tearing off only what little they have patience for in their hungry, fumbling pursuit of relief. Bo rips the buttons off Lauren's shirt, sending them scattering beyond the bed and across the floor, only to spend limited time and attention on soft, delicious, lace-clad breasts before mimicking her lover's eager fingers in plunging directly into unbuttoned jeans. The effect is instantaneous; an agonising gap bridged and excruciating pressure released with echoing whimpers of welcome. Their mutual desire – their necessity – to waste no more time requires no further concurrence. Bo uses the collar of the lab coat to navigate Lauren into a sitting position, sinking into the space her widening legs create before further manoeuvring them onto their knees. Lauren murmurs disapprovingly into her mouth at the momentary reduced contact, grasping Bo's fully clothed back and pressing their heaving chests together as undulating hips settle into their urgent rhythm.
Within seconds, Bo can feel her release surfacing, walls tightening around Lauren's skilled fingers, and she grabs a fist full of white coat, exposing the highly sensitive dip between the Doctor's neck and shoulder and refocusing her mouth there to catch her lover up. Lauren reacts as she knew she would – as she has many, many times before – by bucking harder against her hand, a strangled moan rushing against Bo's hair. She reaches inside the back of Bo's tight vest, scratching her way up to shoulder blade and hissing as Bo's teeth nip at her throat in response.
The quickening of Lauren's pulse against her lips puts Bo in a place of no return and she needs this to be all that it can be, needs Lauren right there with her, so on the next thrust of her fingers, she releases a pulse of her own. They come together, shuddering and crying out, drawing all they can before slumping side by side, hands still beneath clothes, eyes closed in bliss, and matching smiles on their sweat-sheened faces.
When she regains voluntary use of her muscles, Bo trails her fingers lazily across Lauren's stomach, lifting her mouth to kiss her with no less hunger than before, but an altogether different purpose. Her lips and tongue move slowly, deliberately, delivering the message that this isn't just about satisfying short-term needs, it's reaffirming a long-term promise. A way of freeing them to be who they need to be right now because they know, no matter what happens, they'll still have each other at the end. She can feel Lauren smile into her mouth as her hands reach up to tangle themselves in Bo's hair, and she knows that they both understand, but too much has gone unspoken between them for too long, so she says it anyway.
'It doesn't matter where we came from, what we've done or where we've been. It doesn't matter what comes our way or what we do about it. For me, you are inevitable.'
Lauren presses her mouth firmly to the side of Bo's head, holding her to her and just breathing her in. She can feel the thrum of a heartbeat, the hum of blood rushing in ears and she swallows hard to contain it all, to preserve it in this moment; an unblemished memory that would maintain her through the dark.
'I'm yours, Bo. Never doubt that.'
Bo kisses her again, gently; eyes open to catch the flutter of Lauren's lashes as hers close. She shifts her weight slightly to the side and smiles as Lauren's body immediately follows to close the distance, arms wrapping tighter around her shoulders, fingers delving further into her hair. Bo reaches down between them, retrieving her phone from the one boot she's still wearing without removing her other hand from Lauren's skin.
'What are you doing?' Lauren mumbles through the path of kisses she's taking down Bo's neck.
'Telling the gang to take the night off,' Bo breathes, quickly tapping out a message while she still has the will. She hits send, stretches to carefully drop the phone beside the bed then rolls fully on top of Lauren. 'Now, Doctor, how about this time we try nothing but the lab coat?'
Kenzi is snatched very reluctantly from a very, very pleasant dream by a persistent buzzing vibration. She's about to start cursing Bo and her toys, maybe drag at least one foot off the bed to bang the floorboards, before she realises the noise is coming from her phone, which has somehow found its way into the empty wine glass on the improvised crate-table by her head. She squints, trying to recall how long the glass has been there – and more importantly, how long it's been empty – before focusing on the message from Bo.
Tell everyone we'll proceed with the "mind-melding" tomorrow. Oh and Kenz – thank you ;) Don't wait up xxx
Kenzi reaches under her bed, smiling as she locates the half-full bottle of red.
'Well thank Fae! I'll drink to that.'