AN: Thank you so much for your reviews!
Also, I'm not including anything from the 4th season. (And I'm using this to fight the the writer's block I hit after three quarters of the next chapter of my other story (which I will finish. I'm just crap at keeping promises about my writing.))
II
The next week passes fairly quickly. Loads of different events on campus take place and Lauren spends a lot of time figuring out where the closest and cheapest libraries, coffee shops and grocery stores are, where she can do the laundry, and maybe find a gym.
Kenzi looks for bars, mainly.
At the end of the week they compare their results, when Lauren takes Kenzi to the nearest mall and they spend quite some time shopping, and in the evening Kenzi takes Lauren to a bar she found in the second night. Lauren needs a new coat, since autumn is coming faster than expected, and Kenzi is always on the lookout for heels. The older woman finds a nice sand coloured one, about which she's really happy. And the ladies' night out turns out to be better than expected as well. She really enjoys the easy company.
Kenzi tends to sleep long and Lauren gets to shuffle around and do her stuff in the morning until her neighbour can be bothered to roll out of bed. Then she usually knocks at the door, pops her head in Lauren's room and begs for coffee or aspirin or help with her own work. Usually for all three at once.
But Kenzi has a great feeling for when Lauren wants to work as well, so she graciously ceases her teasing when Lauren has her head buried in books. Sadly, they don't meet that often on campus. So this night Lauren has to catch up on what Kenzi has done in her first week at college in a bar over a nice glass of alcoholic beverage.
The place is called the Dal. It's not very far away, just a short walk through the fresh night air, but hard to find if you don't know where to look, and it's definitely not a typically student pub. Lauren likes it instantly. It's small but cosy and warm, and does serve very good ale, as Lauren soon finds out. They sit at the bar, where Kenzi chats for a couple of minutes with the bartender, a nice guy called Trick. Kenzi seems to be friends with him already.
Lauren raises an eyebrow at her when she turns back to her.
"What? Knowing the right people makes the world go round," Kenzi says, smirking. "Besides, I'm hoping on a free drink once in a while."
"I think ninety per cent of the people in this bar are trying to do the same. Trick wouldn't earn any money if he listened to them all."
Kenzi takes a sip. "Maybe. But they're not as good as I am." She grins and turns around to face the rest of the room. It's not that late, and the bar is not that full, but a few people are there nonetheless, either sitting at the tables or standing around, drinking and talking. Soft music is playing from the jukebox.
"Seen anyone exciting yet?" Kenzi asks, scanning the faces of the people present.
Lauren rolls her eyes. "I'm not really here for that."
Kenzi looks at Lauren's glass, which is still almost full. "Well, a bit more effort on your side would be much appreciated, I'm sure."
Lauren laughs.
"How about that guy over there?" Kenzi asks, her blue eyes suddenly glistening mischievously.
Lauren doesn't even turn around. "I don't think so."
"You haven't even looked at him!"
"I don't need to."
"Come one, Doc," Kenzi begs. "We will have enough work next week. Let's just have a little fun today. What do you think about that one? I think he's checking you out."
Again, Lauren doesn't even glance up to who has the luck to have attracted Kenzi's attention now, but gives her a pointed look. "Even if I was interested in hitting on anyone, I don't have to look at a guy to tell you that I'm not interested. I'm past that stage."
Kenzi turns back around to her and raises her eyebrows. Lauren can literally see her brain working. Then the penny drops. "Oh. Okay." Kenzi hesitates for a moment and takes another sip from her drink. "I can't believe I haven't picked that up." In the end she just shrugs. "Well, more left for me."
Lauren can't help but grin, and drink from her ale.
"What do you think about that chick over there then?"
"Kenzi, in earnest, not today."
"Maybe later?"
"Seriously, do I speak Chinese?"
"Okay, okay, I'm sorry," Kenzi chuckles, raising her hands defensively.
They end up talking about the pros and cons of different kinds of booze, and Kenzi does manage to get Lauren to drink more than she had planned to. Lauren nearly cries tears of laughter when Kenzi tells a story about her encountering with the dean, of whose existence Kenzi hadn't known until then, but who she's definitely going to remember really good from now on. She begs Lauren to warn her if she sees him so Kenzi can avoid him for the rest of her life.
"We fit together like yin and yang, Doc," she states finally, when Lauren is calm enough again.
The comment earns her a raised eyebrow from the still chuckling blonde. In a way Kenzi is right, though. They are almost the exact opposite of each other in nearly all respects. Their characters are completely different. If Kenzi had trouble with studying for a test Lauren would stay up all night with her, learning and doing revision, while, if the situation was reversed, Kenzi would sneak into the department and simply steal a copy of the examination paper for her instead. But surprisingly, they work together very well.
At eleven Lauren calls it an early night. Kenzi pouts disapprovingly.
"I'm really sorry, but I want to go to the library tomorrow, do some reading," Lauren sighs apologetically.
"For what?"
"The lecture on Monday."
Kenzi rolls her eyes so hard that the guy on her other side gives her a worried look. "The term hasn't even started really, it's Friday, and you're already stressing out."
"Well, I want to be prepared for that one. The prof seems to be really good."
"Who is it?"
"I don't know whether you've heard about her. Bo Dennis?"
Kenzi frowns. "Yes, she has quite a reputation. Not academically."
Lauren thinks of how good looking Bo Dennis is. Lauren had a dry throat throughout the whole last class with her. And that appearance in her position. It's not surprising that gossip accompanies her every step. "Well, academically she's excellent, I think," Lauren says simply. She wants to check her books out the next day as well.
Kenzi shrugs, but finally agrees to go home with Lauren.
…
Bo meets Tamsin Saturday morning for their weekly run in the park. Well, Tamsin's run, really, Bo just joins her for a bit in the middle. She could never keep up with the federal agent if she tried to follow her whole program. That also means that she's still fresh out of bed and more than slightly tired when Tamsin has already run for a couple of miles.
The pace of the Scandinavian blonde changes that quickly, though.
Their track through the park is mostly empty, and Bo enjoys the nature at that time of the day. Soon the leaves will be turning orange and red, if they haven't started already, and it will be too cold to go for a run. Tamsin will do it nonetheless, of course, but Bo will definitely stick to the gym.
Apart from their physical abilities, only regarding running of course, the two women fit very well together. They're both best if fighting on their own, and work in very male dominated jobs. Tamsin compensates by being over-confident and bitchy. Bo loves her dark humour. And both of them get their work done better than average.
Today, their conversation, or at least what Bo is able to mutter while jogging alongside the better trained woman, revolves around the changes Hale wants to introduce this year, with the behavioural analysis unit at the psychology department of the college. Not just Bo would have to work there. It would affect Tamsin's job massively as well, and not to the positive.
"Idiotic politics," she rants while overtaking someone walking his dog, "Hale wants his pretty face all over Boston's newspapers so has better chances at running for senate, like his father did. His daddy issues are the whole reasoning behind the BAU plan. If you ask me, the whole family stinks."
"Nepotism was what got him his current job in the first place," Bo agrees. "He's not particularly good at being the head of the department, and way too young as well."
"You shouldn't say that out loud," Tamsin points out, "you're not exactly very typical to be a professor yourself. Are you sure you're in the right position?"
"You'd be surprised by how often I hear that question," Bo says, already panting. "And by what I hear afterwards."
Tamsin has enough breath left to laugh. Then their path gets a little steep, so Bo has to shut up for the next five minutes. Tamsin can speak, though.
"And of course my partner is completely behind his back. The two idiots are literally glued together," she says. "I still don't get why you stopped banging Dyson. You would have had a good grip on both of them."
That relationship had crashed and burned like a zeppelin on fire. Bo groans by the pure thought of him.
Tamsin is okay with him though, for some strange reason her friend couldn't comprehend. It's probably a police partner thing. Bo never had the time and leisure to try to understand that complex hierarchical relationship system in Tamsin's field. But she guesses that being there to take bullets for each other does tend to create bonds. And Dyson and she are pretty high profile agents.
"How are the new students? Do you have your eye on anyone yet?" Tamsin asks mischievously, changing the subject.
Bo rolls her eyes, but isn't completely sure that Tamsin sees it, since the blonde is way ahead already. So Bo adds decisively, "I don't sleep with students." Maybe she says it a little too loud because right in that moment an elderly couple emerges from another path and look at her very disapprovingly. She clears her throat and gives them the broadest smile she can muster in her current state. It's effective, they look even more appalled.
Tamsin sprints back, smirking, and circles Bo, who slows down more and more. "Rumour has it otherwise."
"It was once! And an accident!" Bo exclaims loudly, startling a bird from the tree next to their running path. Her legs are burning. "I didn't exactly know that he was a student. I mean I didn't even ask him for his name."
That incident had last year had done considerable damage to her reputation. Not that it had been good to begin with, even though she had hoped for a new start in Boston. But that one night had effectively ruined her chances on an easy life. Since then she had to work twice as much to break her colleagues' prejudice, earning her the reputation of being a frigid bitch.
It's just that she doesn't let anyone mess with her, and knows how good she is. That doesn't mean that she can't be kind, though.
Not that she particularly cared about other people's opinion, but those were the people admitting funding, after all. However, Bo had had the luck to write two good books based on studies on human relationships she had conducted at her old uni before coming to Bostin. And they sold very well. She had earned a lot of money out of that, and gained publicity, which eases finding high paid jobs, and especially keeping them. The 'scandal' was brushed under the carpet. For that at least she feels grateful towards Hale.
If she's honest, she is not the cleverest scientist. She's not good with numbers and statistics, which is essential within psychology. Nor is she very patient, or good at setting up experiments.
But Bo is good with people. She can relate very easily, and teach students. She focused on social psychology during her studies, and on how relationships develop over time. That's just what Bo is good at, what excites her, and what she likes to do. Apparently, she managed to get that point across in her books.
And then there's the fact that she is not exactly ugly either. Basically, she likes sex. A lot of it, if she has the opportunity. That's just a fundamental part of her personality.
Tamsin laughs. "You get straight down to business if you like someone, don't you?"
"Essentially, I was drunk. And you weren't there to stop me," Bo shoots back. "I think you were occupied by someone else as well."
Tamsin shrugs and flashes a shit eating grin at her. "Sorry, there were so many, I really can't remember."
Bo rolls her eyes and tries to catch up with her. Tamsin is running ahead again.
"I'm not exactly chaste either, but at least I keep work from pleasure," the blonde teases.
"That's easier said than done in my position," Bo grumbles breathlessly, earning a laugh from Tamsin. "But I'm trying to. I mean I'm not exactly looking for a relationship at the moment," Bo adds, thinking of Dyson again.
Their track takes roughly one hour to get back to Bo's house at the edge of the park. After one hour of running with Tamsin her legs burn like she has poured acid all over them. In front of her porch she bends over and rubs her thighs. Tamsin seems totally unaffected, of course, standing there with her hands on her hips and watching Bo. She hasn't even worked up a sweat, Bo notices enviously. At this point she is hundred per cent sure that her own face is red like a tomato. Tamsin grins at her. "You alright?"
Bo doesn't bother to answer.
They promise to meet again next week, and Tamsin to spend Sunday evening in Bo's grandfather's bar. They'll have to prepare to fight against Hale's and Dyson's plans at work quite soon, so they're going to seize the last possible opportunity to relax a little outside of work. It's very lucky that Trick runs the Dal, so they don't have to worry about where they should go.
Tamsin, looking like someone from a Nike commercial, heads off again, back to her bike with which she'll cycle back to her own flat.
Bo sighs, and lets herself into her own house. She has to prepare the coursework for the following week. It's going to be a long one.
…
On Monday, the psychology freshmen get their first assignment.
Lauren is there early, again in one of the first row, and watches the other students stroll into the lecture theatre. Most of them are anticipating their professor, and discuss her in detail. Especially the male part of the audience. From what Lauren hears it seems like literally all of them want to get to know her better, or preferably her body. Lauren rolls her eyes and rests her chin on her arms, waiting for the class to start.
This time she is better prepared when she enters. At least Lauren thinks she is. But when Bo waltzes in, this time with her hair tied back behind her head, exposing her long neck and the shoulder-blades outlined underneath her blouse, Lauren finds herself staring again. Bo Dennis moves with incredible grace and confidence while prowling up and down in front of them. Her black tights and skirt show off a very well formed pair of legs, and Lauren can't help but travel them with her eyes all the way up.
But that's not everything, by far. Bo's teaching is excellent. She picks the topic apart in front of their eyes and sets it back together again, piece by piece, explaining how the intricate connections holding it together work. Her hands accentuate each point with well measured gestures. And her smile can easily light up the whole room. Sadly, she doesn't do it often, though.
Lauren spends the whole hour trying to concentrate on what Bo is actually saying, instead of the way her lips are moving. They are just so damn distracting.
So she stares down at her notepad instead, clenches her teeth, and just listens to her voice to take her notes, growing more and more determined by the minute to do her best at the first essay.
At the end of the class, Bo gives them their first assignment, deadline on Thursday morning since their next class is on Friday. It's not very fair, really. The question is short, and as non-descriptive as possible. Discuss the impact modern social psychology had on society. The topic is more than horrible. Nobody will be able to answer that. Mainly, Bo wants the students to get going, to visit the library, browse, read, and start thinking on their own.
And maybe get them away from the excess of alcohol they're currently taking in every evening, at this time of the term.
The essay shouldn't be that long either, since she doesn't want to correct them over the weekend.
At the end of the lecture quite a few people come down from the ranks to ask her questions about the topic. Well, at least they pretend to. Some do have actually something they'd like to know, and since Lauren doesn't have any she tries to stick around to hear their questions, pretending to take a long time to pack all her stuff back into her bag. They are really interesting in most of the cases and she makes a mental note of everything her prof says about additional reading that would cover them in more depth.
Then there are at least two girls who have definitely just found their new role model. Bo gives them a broad smile, glad that there are women in this year who have genuine interest in a career in the academics. But most of the guys seem to be more interested in Bo's cleavage, and are not even good at hiding it. She brushes their badly planned questions off, mostly by ridiculing the speaker for not paying attention during the class with biting sarcasm, earning quite a few laughs from the rest of the assembled students.
She doesn't give it much thought, really. Bo wants to stay approachable and friendly to all of her students. There is just a natural line of mutual respect they shouldn't cross, and she's quite good at drawing it. She's used to it, after all, and as soon as the freshmen have found it as well they're going to be cool. It has been the same last year. Finally, she leaves through the small side door, but this time Bo glances shortly at the blonde in the second row with the set jawline who has been shuffling the books in her bag for more time than entirely necessary and hides her eyes behind a strain of golden hair.
For a second she muses about her, but then the moment is over and she's through the door.
As soon as she's out of the lecture theatre administration tackles Bo again. Hale is more than ever campaigning for his BAU unit, for which Bo would have to work. As a psychoanalyzing private detective of some sort, she thinks angrily. It would eat massive amounts of her already scarce free time, and throw the rest of her schedule completely off balance. But most of all, Bo doesn't want to work for the state as a criminal profiler. That's not why she became a psychologist.
But sadly, Hale has the last word on this. His decision is definite.
There will be one final meeting on Thursday before he announces whether he'll do it, when everyone in the department can put their doubts forward, and Bo hopes to change his mind at that occasion. She'll have to prepare a lot for that. And she doesn't look forward to it at all.
There was a time when she got along with Hale, quite good actually, but then there came that messy breakup with his best friend, so that's past.
…
In the end Thursday arrives faster than expected.
Bo is sitting in her office, sipping her second cappuccino, and distracts herself from freaking out about the FBI mess Hale is steering right into by finally starting to look at her students essays. They have handed them in this morning. It's not a good way to spend her time, though. If she's honest, they are crap. Mostly. Once in a while she finds a mediocre one. But she grades all of them generously. The question was really hard, and most of her students tried their best at it, so she gives helpful advice and friendly comments.
Before she realizes it two and a half hours have passed, only one essay is left, and she has to go to the department meeting. But Bo dreads it, so she begins to read the last paper as well. And that's a very good decision, as it turns out.
The essay blows her mind.
Completely. It's just brilliant. Way above the level she expects from first years, even way above what some of her third years are capable of. It's meticulous, elaborate and detailed. After a short overview in the beginning the essay gains more depth than Bo is entirely sure the normal library books are not providing. It even gives a concise examination of revelations expected in the future.
And most of all, it's beautifully written. It's exciting. And excited. Bo can almost physically feel the author's elation about the topic, stumbling into this gigantic topic and discovering so many new things while doing research on it in the library. Bo smiles while reading. She sees herself a couple of years ago when she wrote her thesis.
Bo looks at the author's name again. Lauren Lewis. She lets the name roll of the tip of her tongue.
She wonders whether she has consciously noticed her in one of the classes yet. She hasn't had them often yet, after all. Bo should really get to know her students faces. She knows that most lecturers don't bother to earn their names as long as they work steadily and keep their head down, but Bo thinks that a friendly atmosphere can provide a better foundation for a welcoming learning environment. She makes a mental note to try to find her in the next class.
Then her phone rings. It's Hale, of course, complaining about her being late for the meeting. Bo groans internally, and rushes off.
…
Lauren dreads the Friday class. When she wakes up in the morning she spends five minutes rubbing her temples and pretending to be too ill to leave the bed. She really doesn't want to go. First, it's because of the assignment she handed in yesterday. Her essay gets more and more crappy each time she rereads it, wildly unorganized with her thoughts all over the place, plus there are at least three facts in it she can't find in the books anymore so they are probably wrong, so all in all she stopped looking at the essay the afternoon before and now she feels grossly underprepared because she hasn't read it at night, and secondly, the lecture is already in one hour.
Not that she's not a morning person, but it's just too early to leave the house at this time of the year.
She gets out of bed, eventually, stumbles out of her room into the shower, and manages to get ready in time, telling herself a hundred times to suck it up. It's not going to be bad. Her whole class has handed in an essay, it's highly unlikely that her prof managed to read them all yet.
When she arrives at the department and gets into the lecture hall, though, her nightmare becomes true. Her prof has managed to read them all. But she can't find her own essay on the table where they have been placed for the students to pick up while they're walking in. It's just not there.
There must have been something wrong in it. Lauren racks her brain to think of what it could have been. Yesterday, she was so sure that everything was fine with it. But since then that conviction left her. Well, it's her piece of work and she's going to stick up for it, even if it was the most horrible one in class.
After looking through them for the third time she finally gathers her courage and walks up to her prof to ask her about it. She doesn't want to at first, though. The Bo Dennis' expression is darkened by a deep wrinkle between her eyebrows. It's still fairly early and she is sitting behind the desk down in the centre of the lecture theatre, flipping through a file, not paying any attention to the first students entering the room. Annoyance is written all over her face. And maybe a hint of tiredness.
Lauren walks down the steps between the seating ranks and approaches her slowly. She doesn't look up, so Lauren clears her throat, wringing her hands.
"Uhm, Professor Dennis? I was just wondering about my essay…" Her voice trails off meekly.
"I've written all my comments in the margin. Everything should be perfectly clear," she replies coldly, clicking her teeth with discontent. She doesn't take her eyes off the file in her hands and turns a page, almost angrily.
"That's the problem. I couldn't find mine?" Lauren replies.
Bo's head snaps up. She blinks. For the first time she really takes the person in front of her in. A lithe, blonde woman, maybe a little bit older than the rest of her year, wearing a sand coloured coat and a simple white shirt that frames her defined collarbones, is standing there, shifting uneasily from one foot to the other. Her hair is tied behind the back of her head but a single strand has escaped and defies her attempt to put it behind her ear. She smiles apologetically when their eyes meet.
Bo tilts her head to the side, her expression and voice completely changed. She frowns slightly. "Are you Lauren Lewis?"
"Yes." It almost sounds like a question. Her hazelnut brown eyes flicker back and forth between Bo's. She has no idea why she's standing here, Bo realizes.
Without looking away from her, Bo leans to the side and pulls her essay slowly out of the bag under the table.
"Was there something wrong with it?" Lauren asks when she sees her essay, biting her lip.
Bo smiles, shaking her head. "Absolutely not. On the opposite. It's very good."
Slowly, the confusion in Lauren's eyes vanishes, giving way to gladness. A smile starts tugging at her lips.
Bo can't help but grin back. "That's really everything I wanted to say. You wrote an excellent essay."
Starting with her eyes, on Lauren's face the sun is breaking through the clouds, enlightening her whole expression. "Thank you," she replies breathlessly.
Bo holds her beaming gaze one quiet second longer before extending her hand and giving the essay back to her. She feels like there is something else she wants to say, maybe something to encourage her to write again, or just simply to stay a little bit longer. She's too slow, though. Lauren turns back again, and hurries to a seat in one of the front rows.
While they were exchanging these couple of sentences the lecture theatre has filled up considerably without either of their notice. Bo follows Lauren with her eyes to her seat. Then she stands up and clears her throat. Most of the other students are occupied by reading through the notes she scribbled on their short essays. It takes them a few seconds to calm down enough so Bo can start speaking.
During the lecture her eyes return more than twice back to Lauren, who is not looking back at her, but deeply bent over her notepad, taking notes.
