Title: Sugar and Spice
Author: Lila
Rating: PG-13
Spoiler: anything through "Blood Ties," but the story is slightly AU
'Ship: none
Length: very short, one-parter
Summary: Lauren takes a tumble from grace
Author's Note:
One more story for you all. This is my first time writing Lauren, so please don't hate me. I know she's not the most liked character, but I think that's what makes her interesting, because we know nothing about her or her motivations and how she turned out to be such an evil b****. Plus, I kind of like her when she's bad so this story was fun to read. Please let me know what you think, especially if I got Lauren down right. Enjoy!
~ * ~
Now she's down and out, everyone's above her
Tried everything a gal could try
She takes the notion that nobody loves her.
- "Bad Girl," Don Mclean
~ * ~
Sometime she wonders if she was born bad.
She came kicking and screaming into the world a month too early, nearly ending her own life and taking her mother with her. And even then, when it was a miracle she lived at all, she was all wrong. Her parents already had a child, a beautiful little girl with golden curls and big blue eyes and a voice like an angel. They didn't need another daughter, not when there was no one left to keep alive the family name--especially one like her. The night her mother brought her home she pressed her to her chest and held her close and whispered in her ear that she was future and she'd better not disappoint them-she'd spent the rest of her life trying.
Except, everything about her was wrong. Her hair was dark, not light, her teeth too big for her little mouth, her mind not as quick as the rest of the Reeds. Especially when it came to Katie. Perfect, beautiful, Katie, three years her senior and light years ahead of her in everything else. Katie was the smartest, the prettiest, the most talented, the most loved. And Lauren--well she was just there. It wasn't that she wasn't pretty, because she was, in her own way. And it wasn't that she wasn't smart, because she was, at least compared to the other students in her class. And it wasn't that she wasn't talented, because she was a better shot than all the other little girls in her riflery class. She just wasn't smart enough or pretty enough or talented enough to compare to Katie. And she knew it, every day of her life.
Every time something went wrong, like when she was four and her mother's fine china was too heavy for her little hands and it landed in a shattered heap on the floor, she could feel the burn in her mother's gaze. Not good enough, never good enough. But Katie was good enough, the way she'd carry the dishes across the foyer with grace and ease, never breaking a single one. Katie had gotten an extra cookie for dessert while Lauren had stewed in her room. Or when she was six and cut off Katie's curls "accidentally" when they were playing beauty shop and had the gall to laugh about it. Or when she was twelve and hit the softball right into Katie's perfect face, breaking her perfect nose. She'd been grounded for a month for that one, while Katie had expertly played the martyr.
It wasn't that she meant to hurt her sister, because she loved her, she really did. It was that she was tired of being second best, tired of just gliding through life, not living it, tired of Katie stealing all the attention. She just wanted to be noticed for once.
When she was a little girl her father would read to his daughter's before bed-stories, nursery rhymes, "Sugar and spice and all things nice, that's what little girls are made of," he'd murmur and press a smacking kiss to Katie's cheek. "You're my sugar, Katie-girl," he'd laugh and twirl a golden curl around his finger. "You keep my heart all nice and full." Then he'd look at her, sitting silent beside her giggling sister. "And Lauren, you're my spice," he'd say and run a hand over her thick, dark hair. "You always keep me on my feet." Then he'd turned out the light and left her alone in the dark.
~ * ~
She didn't see light until she was fifteen-years-old and everything she knew ended in a crash of metal and glass. She remembered Katie's blonde curls matted with blood, the smell of death creeping down the hospital corridors…her mother's screams. Nothing had been the same since that night and when she awoke the next morning, everything had changed.
"You're all we have left, Lauren," her mother whispered through the drizzle as they watched Katie be lowered into the ground. "Make us proud."
So she'd poured herself into her studies, doing what she needed to do to come out on top, having Peter Hampton take her math tests and getting her in exchange. It didn't matter what she had to do--as long as she was the best, just like Katie.
When she was sixteen she died her hair blonde, the color of sunshine, and ignored the classmates whispers that she was only trying to be her dead sister. She didn't want to be Katie--Katie was dead--but she wanted everyone to love her the way they'd love her sister. Katie had wanted to be a doctor, to save lives and help others. She knew she had no capacity for blood and guts, but she knew what she could do if she tried hard enough. If she tried hard enough, she could be as good as Katie.
When she was eighteen her father introduced her to the director of the NSA and she chose her path. Director Carlton had laughed and told her she was too young, until she'd sunk to her knees and pressed her blonde hair against his hip, and he'd put her on the fast track to saving the world.
Three years later she was a full-fledged agent, devoted to heart and home and the security of her nation--at least that's what she told herself. She liked it, for a little while. The work was easy and it had been fun wrecking BMWs at the Farm. And people respected her. They liked her. They commented on what a good patriot she was, how honorable a burden she bore. And the glint of pride in her mother's eyes-it was like the day Katie got her first set of straight "As" and a pink bicycle to celebrate. Finally, she'd done the Reed's right.
Except illusions of grandeur never last.
When she was twenty-five a McKenas Cole offered her the chance of the lifetime.
"I'd like you to come work for the Covenant," he'd said. "We think you'll be quite usefull."
She'd glared at him across the length of the damp garage and shook her head. "I already have a job, a job I like. I'm not a traitor."
"No?" he'd asked. "I know all about you Ms. Reed. You're a liar. A cheater. You don't have honor."
Nothing he said was a lie, but she wouldn't admit it. "You know nothing about me. And I won't betray my country."
He sighed. "I'm offering you money. Power. Everything you've always wanted. And best yet, you won't have to pretend anymore."
"Pretend?" she'd said coldly. "What does that mean?"
He'd run a finger down her cheek, cupped her jaw in his fingers. "You're not good, Lauren. Good girls don't sleep with their best friend's boyfriends. Good girls don't blow men twenty-five years their senior to get a break." His fingers tightened. "Good girls don't stall the brakes on their sister's cars and laugh when they crash." She inhaled sharply and refused to meet his gaze. "Stop fighting it Lauren. Stop trying to be someone you're not."
And when he'd held out his hand, she'd taken it, given into the darkness…she didn't have to be good there.
~ * ~
Sark had asked her about it years later, when the sunlight and shadows played across his smooth skin and he ran long fingers across her stomach. "You don't strike me as the typical agent," he'd said. "How did you get involved with the Covenant?"
She'd propped her chin in her hand and yanked off that hideous wig, letting her blonde hair fall in wild abandon down her shoulders. "I wanted it," she'd said. "I was made for it."
"How so?"
She'd turned to him, looked at the innocent face masking a killer's mind. "I wasn't made for better things. When you're used to being bad, it gets tiring to always be playing good. I didn't want to be tired anymore."
He'd kissed her, hard and fast and heated. "I like you better bad," he'd murmured against her neck as his assassin's hands crept down her belly.
She watched the light catch on the ring on her left hand, arched against another man's hands on her breast…felt the weight of the gun in her palm as he pressed the barrel to his forehead. "Sorry, baby," she whispered he let out a cry of surprise right before she pressed the trigger. "You should have wanted me to stay good."
Later, as she gathered her clothes and reported to Cole, she cast one last glance at the body, at the blood-matted blonde hair and was struck by a memory of Katie the same way, lying by the side of the road with the rain pouring down--and felt nothing. "You're not good, Lauren," Cole's words rang in her ear. "Stop fighting it."
Oh yes, she was definitely born bad.
~ * ~
So, what do you think?
Author: Lila
Rating: PG-13
Spoiler: anything through "Blood Ties," but the story is slightly AU
'Ship: none
Length: very short, one-parter
Summary: Lauren takes a tumble from grace
Author's Note:
One more story for you all. This is my first time writing Lauren, so please don't hate me. I know she's not the most liked character, but I think that's what makes her interesting, because we know nothing about her or her motivations and how she turned out to be such an evil b****. Plus, I kind of like her when she's bad so this story was fun to read. Please let me know what you think, especially if I got Lauren down right. Enjoy!
~ * ~
Now she's down and out, everyone's above her
Tried everything a gal could try
She takes the notion that nobody loves her.
- "Bad Girl," Don Mclean
~ * ~
Sometime she wonders if she was born bad.
She came kicking and screaming into the world a month too early, nearly ending her own life and taking her mother with her. And even then, when it was a miracle she lived at all, she was all wrong. Her parents already had a child, a beautiful little girl with golden curls and big blue eyes and a voice like an angel. They didn't need another daughter, not when there was no one left to keep alive the family name--especially one like her. The night her mother brought her home she pressed her to her chest and held her close and whispered in her ear that she was future and she'd better not disappoint them-she'd spent the rest of her life trying.
Except, everything about her was wrong. Her hair was dark, not light, her teeth too big for her little mouth, her mind not as quick as the rest of the Reeds. Especially when it came to Katie. Perfect, beautiful, Katie, three years her senior and light years ahead of her in everything else. Katie was the smartest, the prettiest, the most talented, the most loved. And Lauren--well she was just there. It wasn't that she wasn't pretty, because she was, in her own way. And it wasn't that she wasn't smart, because she was, at least compared to the other students in her class. And it wasn't that she wasn't talented, because she was a better shot than all the other little girls in her riflery class. She just wasn't smart enough or pretty enough or talented enough to compare to Katie. And she knew it, every day of her life.
Every time something went wrong, like when she was four and her mother's fine china was too heavy for her little hands and it landed in a shattered heap on the floor, she could feel the burn in her mother's gaze. Not good enough, never good enough. But Katie was good enough, the way she'd carry the dishes across the foyer with grace and ease, never breaking a single one. Katie had gotten an extra cookie for dessert while Lauren had stewed in her room. Or when she was six and cut off Katie's curls "accidentally" when they were playing beauty shop and had the gall to laugh about it. Or when she was twelve and hit the softball right into Katie's perfect face, breaking her perfect nose. She'd been grounded for a month for that one, while Katie had expertly played the martyr.
It wasn't that she meant to hurt her sister, because she loved her, she really did. It was that she was tired of being second best, tired of just gliding through life, not living it, tired of Katie stealing all the attention. She just wanted to be noticed for once.
When she was a little girl her father would read to his daughter's before bed-stories, nursery rhymes, "Sugar and spice and all things nice, that's what little girls are made of," he'd murmur and press a smacking kiss to Katie's cheek. "You're my sugar, Katie-girl," he'd laugh and twirl a golden curl around his finger. "You keep my heart all nice and full." Then he'd look at her, sitting silent beside her giggling sister. "And Lauren, you're my spice," he'd say and run a hand over her thick, dark hair. "You always keep me on my feet." Then he'd turned out the light and left her alone in the dark.
~ * ~
She didn't see light until she was fifteen-years-old and everything she knew ended in a crash of metal and glass. She remembered Katie's blonde curls matted with blood, the smell of death creeping down the hospital corridors…her mother's screams. Nothing had been the same since that night and when she awoke the next morning, everything had changed.
"You're all we have left, Lauren," her mother whispered through the drizzle as they watched Katie be lowered into the ground. "Make us proud."
So she'd poured herself into her studies, doing what she needed to do to come out on top, having Peter Hampton take her math tests and getting her in exchange. It didn't matter what she had to do--as long as she was the best, just like Katie.
When she was sixteen she died her hair blonde, the color of sunshine, and ignored the classmates whispers that she was only trying to be her dead sister. She didn't want to be Katie--Katie was dead--but she wanted everyone to love her the way they'd love her sister. Katie had wanted to be a doctor, to save lives and help others. She knew she had no capacity for blood and guts, but she knew what she could do if she tried hard enough. If she tried hard enough, she could be as good as Katie.
When she was eighteen her father introduced her to the director of the NSA and she chose her path. Director Carlton had laughed and told her she was too young, until she'd sunk to her knees and pressed her blonde hair against his hip, and he'd put her on the fast track to saving the world.
Three years later she was a full-fledged agent, devoted to heart and home and the security of her nation--at least that's what she told herself. She liked it, for a little while. The work was easy and it had been fun wrecking BMWs at the Farm. And people respected her. They liked her. They commented on what a good patriot she was, how honorable a burden she bore. And the glint of pride in her mother's eyes-it was like the day Katie got her first set of straight "As" and a pink bicycle to celebrate. Finally, she'd done the Reed's right.
Except illusions of grandeur never last.
When she was twenty-five a McKenas Cole offered her the chance of the lifetime.
"I'd like you to come work for the Covenant," he'd said. "We think you'll be quite usefull."
She'd glared at him across the length of the damp garage and shook her head. "I already have a job, a job I like. I'm not a traitor."
"No?" he'd asked. "I know all about you Ms. Reed. You're a liar. A cheater. You don't have honor."
Nothing he said was a lie, but she wouldn't admit it. "You know nothing about me. And I won't betray my country."
He sighed. "I'm offering you money. Power. Everything you've always wanted. And best yet, you won't have to pretend anymore."
"Pretend?" she'd said coldly. "What does that mean?"
He'd run a finger down her cheek, cupped her jaw in his fingers. "You're not good, Lauren. Good girls don't sleep with their best friend's boyfriends. Good girls don't blow men twenty-five years their senior to get a break." His fingers tightened. "Good girls don't stall the brakes on their sister's cars and laugh when they crash." She inhaled sharply and refused to meet his gaze. "Stop fighting it Lauren. Stop trying to be someone you're not."
And when he'd held out his hand, she'd taken it, given into the darkness…she didn't have to be good there.
~ * ~
Sark had asked her about it years later, when the sunlight and shadows played across his smooth skin and he ran long fingers across her stomach. "You don't strike me as the typical agent," he'd said. "How did you get involved with the Covenant?"
She'd propped her chin in her hand and yanked off that hideous wig, letting her blonde hair fall in wild abandon down her shoulders. "I wanted it," she'd said. "I was made for it."
"How so?"
She'd turned to him, looked at the innocent face masking a killer's mind. "I wasn't made for better things. When you're used to being bad, it gets tiring to always be playing good. I didn't want to be tired anymore."
He'd kissed her, hard and fast and heated. "I like you better bad," he'd murmured against her neck as his assassin's hands crept down her belly.
She watched the light catch on the ring on her left hand, arched against another man's hands on her breast…felt the weight of the gun in her palm as he pressed the barrel to his forehead. "Sorry, baby," she whispered he let out a cry of surprise right before she pressed the trigger. "You should have wanted me to stay good."
Later, as she gathered her clothes and reported to Cole, she cast one last glance at the body, at the blood-matted blonde hair and was struck by a memory of Katie the same way, lying by the side of the road with the rain pouring down--and felt nothing. "You're not good, Lauren," Cole's words rang in her ear. "Stop fighting it."
Oh yes, she was definitely born bad.
~ * ~
So, what do you think?