Author's note/Disclaimer: The dialogue and the characters are not my own but belong to the owners of "Lost Girl"; no copyright infringement intended! I simply felt the overpowering need to freely recount an awesome part of an awesome episode (3x13) of a really awesome show. I actually had tears in my eyes when Tamsin said all those things to Bo…
Succu-bubbly-bub—Two Fae in a Tub
Tamsin entered the house and threw away the tool she had just used to break open the door. She smiled to herself foolishly; being in Bo's home made her happy.
Alcohol made her happy. Sort of. Some dark thoughts were lingering at the edge of her mind and she shook her blonde head fiercely. "Go away, evil thoughts," she whispered to herself and hit herself on the head with her palm, just to make sure those thoughts wouldn't be bothering her there and then. The valkyrie's sharp eyes jumped across the room; it didn't take her long to find Bo's liquor stock. She approached it, humming a random song, and reached for an old-looking bottle of whiskey. She pulled out the cork, took a mouthful of the beverage, swallowed and nodded satisfied. That would do. She headed for the sofa, but then changed her mind. She wanted to take a look around first; Bo's place was simply intriguing.
She staggered up the flight of stairs and entered Bo's bedroom. She looked around in awe; everything was full of Bo. She set the bottle onto the bedside table and picked up the framed photograph positioned there. It was a picture of Bo and Lauren; they were smiling at each other. "I wish you'd look at me that way," Tamsin said quietly and stroked the image of Bo's face with her fingertip. She meant to set the picture back onto the table, but it slipped out of her hands. "Whoopsy," she said and managed to only-just catch it. "Close one," she mumbled and set the photograph back securely. Her gaze fell onto the bed. I wonder what it feels like to lie in it, she thought and considered finding out. Tamsin stood there for a couple of minutes undecidedly, but finally came to the conclusion that laying down on that bed now was a bad idea—for several reasons. She thus instead grabbed the bottle of whiskey once more and took a large gulp. Suddenly, Tamsin froze and sharpened her ears. She heard something—a splashing sound? Was it possible she wasn't alone after all? She chuckled at the thought; how freakin' awesome would it be if Bo was there?
She trod out of the room and finally found herself stepping into the bathroom. There she was greeted by a naked succubus, covered in foam, holding a knife in her hand. Tamsin was not surprised by the beauty of Bo's body, and yet seeing it in its pureness moved her. But she did not stare: Bo's eyes were like a magnet to her gaze. Oh, if it were just about the body… Things would be so easy.
"Wow," Tamsin said, leaning against the doorway. "You always bathe with weapons?" Bo sat back down in the tub and answered something, but Tamsin wasn't listening. She was too busy processing the image of the naked succubus. Finally, Tamsin refocused and heard Bo say: "… thought the door was locked."
Tamsin thought about those words for a moment and then turned to look at Bo. "It was," she said, smiling.
"Can I help you?" Bo asked, doubtingly.
"No," Tamsin replied. Help. Ha! No one could help . "Maybe," she corrected herself. Talking to Bo could be of help, but she hadn't even assumed Bo would be here. But alcohol—alcohol was the real help. And the alcohol belonged to Bo, thus she was in fact already helping her. "I just came here to drink all your liquor. Thought you'd be gone by now."
"Wow. You're honest. I'll give you that."
Tamsin smiled to herself, accepting the compliment, and took another gulp of whiskey. "Well, we all have our strengths," she said ironically, spreading out her arms and bowing, as if she had just presented something magnificent. "So, what up, succubus?" she said turning around to face Bo's old-fashioned toilet. It had one of those stringy-flushes, and Tamsin grabbed it, stared at it for a moment, and then tugged at it. Kind of fun, she thought as the toilet flushed. Flush, flush, flush.
"I'm not really in the mood for small talk," Bo stated matter-of-factly.
"Oh come on!" Tamsin replied, sitting down on the toilet lid, "Everybody loooves small talk!" Not. She leaned back, rolled her eyes at her own statement and took another sip. Man, how she hated small talk. In fact, when it came to most people, she hated to talk to them at all. But not with Bo; she really wanted to hear what the succubus had to say. For some reason Bo was patient enough to not throw her out, but to actually answer her instead. If I were her I'd have totally kicked my ass out of here by now, Tamsin thought, rolling her eyes at herself once more. But Bo's just perfect like that.
"It's Lauren," Bo interrupted Tamsin's train of thought, "I haven't seen her in a few days and I'm worried about her."
Lauren. Oh, blah. Damn it—she's important to Bo, so suck it up, she told herself. Staring at the ceiling she said, "I'm sure she's… fine." She looked back at Bo and pulled herself together. "She probably just needed some—"
"Just needed some space, yes," Bo interrupted.
"…space," Tamsin finished, realizing Bo was sincerely concerned. Huh, that must suck.
"It's a popular opinion," Bo added. She seemed tired. It had to be tiring to always care so much, Tamsin figured. "Anyway," Bo continued, "Dyson has her phone; he's running some numbers."
"So," Tamsin began; her thoughts were already somewhere else entirely. She stared at the bottle in her hands and decided this was the opportunity to actually tell Bo something important. "This season's small talk…" She hesitated; she felt Bo staring at her. "You weren't the one that killed the blonde hottie," she finally said, risking a glance at Bo.
"What!?" Bo said, sitting up, and the intensity of her stare made Tamsin look away again.
"The six-fingered lady did," Tamsin explained, playing with the bottle in her hands. "And then someone killed her." She gave Bo a forced smile. "Big time! Wasn't you, was it," she added flirtatiously. I bet she'd be capable of doing it—she is powerful, Tamsin thought. But then again, she could probably never do anything like that… Because she was too good; Bo was just perfect like that.
"What about your Dark Fae friend," Bo demanded, "the one in a coma?"
"Him," Tamsin said, rolling her eyes again. Wow, she hadn't thought of the guy in a while… When she had shown him a picture of Bo at the time, he had confirmed that she was the one that had attacked him—Tamsin had told this to no one, and he was now dead. No one needed to know, not even Bo; what difference did it make, really? She reached up behind herself and flushed the toilet once more. Flush, flush, flush, she thought, flush away those evil thoughts.
Tamsin turned her head towards her still raised arm and realized her armpits didn't exactly smell good—she didn't smell good. "It is entirely possible that I do not smell so good," she told Bo, deciding to share this important bit of information with her. That's what people did when they liked each other, right? They shared stupid things no one else would ever give a damn about. Tamsin smiled to herself, being friendly with someone wasn't that difficult after all. She stood up and turned towards the mirror next to the toilet.
"Well," Bo said, "take a page from my book and take a bath."
Huh. Now there was a logic solution to at least one of her problems. Tamsin turned around to face Bo and began to kick off her shoes. She nearly lost her balance. Huh. Guess I'm still drunk, she thought. She set the bottle onto the little table next to the tub and got in opposite of Bo, first the right foot, then the left foot.
"Err, no, Tamsin, I didn't… mean…" Bo began, but then broke off. Tamsin sat down and leaned back. "Okay then," Bo said in defeat.
Tamsin reached into the tub and pulled out her gun. Well, that was a first.
"Oops," she said and threw away the useless gun; now it seemed kind of ironic that she had made fun of Bo bathing with a weapon. Even in that point Bo had outdone her; she was just perfect like that. How the hell did she do that?
"Where do you get off being so perfect?" Tamsin asked, finally giving voice to the question that had been bugging her for so long. She wasn't expecting an answer, but it felt good simply voicing it.
Bo looked at her, confused, and Tamsin lowered her gaze, smiling. The goofiness the alcohol had brought along with it disappeared and Tamsin was suddenly filled with earnestness. It figured that Bo didn't even realize how perfect she was. "You think you've seen everything," Tamsin said in a bitter-sweet voice, raising her eyes to meet Bo's again. "And then you see you."
"I'm alright," Bo said immediately, her eyes boring into Tamsin's, "but I'm not perfect."
Tamsin tried to smile, but did not quite manage it; she was suddenly overcome by a sorrow so deep and powerful, she half-expected her heart to simply stop beating at that very instant. But it did not. Tamsin's leaned forward, bringing her face closer to Bo's.
"Yes, you are," she said softly. "To me you are. Your eyes are both brown and blue."
"Tamsin," Bo whispered, her eyes never leaving Tamsin's, "what are you doing?" What she was doing? She was finally dropping all the walls around her heavily guarded heart; she was finally being honest to herself, and to Bo.
Tamsin raised herself onto her knees, leaning in even closer to Bo. "Your heart," she began, gently touching the foamy water with two fingers, just above the place where, somewhere beneath the water, Bo's heart had to be, "is both strong and gentle." Bo's searching eyes bore even deeper Tamsin's—but Tamsin's weren't searching, they had already found everything there was to find. "You're virtuous," Tamsin continued. Her chest was now resting on Bo's knees. "Yet you're a succubus." She creased her eyebrows in confusion; really, how was that even possible? She shook her head and whispered: "You shouldn't even be."
"Be what?" Bo asked, slightly irritated. The succubus had experienced many surprising situations by now, but this conversation was something she would have never anticipated, not even in her wildest dreams.
"Be real," Tamsin explained sorrowfully. "Be here." She nodded, underlining her words. Then she stood up and stepped out of the tub, splashing water onto the floor. Bo was at a loss for words and simply watched her, mouth open. "Okay," she finally said, confusion written all over her face. Tamsin was already on her way to the door, the bottle in one of her hands once more; her shoes in the other. "I'll see you at the Dal, I guess," Bo said as Tamsin took another sip of her whiskey. The valkyrie halted and threw Bo one last glance. "Keep your wits about you," she said as though nothing out of the ordinary had just happened. She turned away again and, walking out of the bathroom, she added: "You never know who might be watching."
She began descending the stairs, but halted half-way down. Her head was spinning and she had to lean against the wall for a few moments, until the black blobs disrupting her vision had disappeared again. Once she had reached the living room, she set the bottle onto the coffee table and let herself fall onto the couch. She put on her shoes, groaning in discomfort as she squeezed her soaking wet feet into the footwear.
She closed her eyes and tried to fight the emptiness that was threatening to overcome her. She fought the urge to go back upstairs, back to Bo.
Tamsin knew what was happening: She was bonding with Bo… the way only a valkyrie could bond with a warrior. Tamsin's hands were shaking. She had to rebuild the wall around her heart, and she had to do it quickly. She felt so torn she was actually surprised she was still whole, physically speaking. The forces tugging at her heart and mind were nearly unbearable; she stood up and headed for the door. Taking another gulp of whiskey, she left Bo's place and the door fell shut behind her. Leave it behind, she told herself, just leave all of it here. But how could she leave something behind that was living within her; something that was so deeply anchored into her very being? She didn't have an answer and was sure that none existed.
Tamsin shook her head, disgusted at her own weakness. She took a deep breath and realized once more that she was in desperate need of a bath. She smiled to herself; she knew just the place to go. It wasn't right—but what did it matter? Nothing mattered anymore. Everything was going to be over soon… so soon… too soon.
She took another mouthful of whiskey and went her way, humming in her head… Flush, flush, flush, she thought, flush away the evil thoughts.