So, uh, I started writing this waaaay back during S2, and decided that hey, late-to-the-party Kenzi/Hale is better than no Kenzi/Hale. So lo! Set during 2x17, but since I haven't seen that episode in forever, and this was only half-finished when I opened it up a year later...yeah. Sorry for any weird "Hey, there is no way that could have actually happened in the episode" moments.

Title is from "Funny Little World" by Alexander Rybak.

you're my unforeseen

So it turns out Hale cleans up pretty well. Not as well as she does, obviously, but not everyone can be Kenzi. He's not unaware of it, either, which is mildly annoying, but then Kenzi spent a good half-hour admiring herself in front of Bo's mirror, so maybe she doesn't have room to talk.

He takes her hands in his - they're pretending to be a couple, after all - and she's kind of surprised by how warm they are, how easily they swallow hers. They're, like…nice hands.

Not that Kenzi has some kind of weird hands fetish or something. She doesn't, like, inspect a dude's hands before she goes out with him. But. You know. They're pretty important, in the grand scheme of things. Actually, Hale has a pretty nice everything. Kenzi thinks that she'd totally go for him, if she wasn't taken and he wasn't a detective and wasn't the best friend of the dude who's broken her bestie's heart. And also the whole thousand year old supernatural being thing.

But like. In theory.

And theory, right now, is actually getting to turn into practice, because apparently part of this whole pretending-to-date-Hale deal involves dancing - sadly, not the kind Kenzi is actually good at, which is a pity because she could totally show these Fae some moves. It's mostly, like, swaying around on the floor and occasionally they break into a waltz or the polka or whatever, one of those old-timey dances that nobody knows anymore. Kenzi thinks the Fae really should get with the times. Which is apparently the point Hale's been trying to make all along. Whatever. Thinking too hard doesn't really mix with cocktails and sparkly dresses.

"Don't step on my feet," Hale jokes as he starts to lead her. She waits for some kind of joke about humans having no rhythm, but he refrains, and in light of the events of the past few days, she's grateful.

"Please," she sniffs. "I am an expert."

He grins, but he still holds her like she's one of those fragile, delicate ladies in her long dress and heels - one hand careful where it grasps hers, and the other firm, almost possessive, where he presses it against her back and guides her through the moves.

Kenzi's totally not one to be owned by anybody - not her family, not the Fae, not a man, and especially not a Fae man with a penchant for stupid hats. Still, it feels…nice. Nice, where his hand touches the curve of her spine, like she could fall over and he'd totally catch her and he'd be leaning over her in one of those crazy awesome dip moves that Fred and Ginger were always doing. (Not that Kenzi knows anything about that. That's aaaaaall Bo, she swears.) Nice, when they slip past another couple and Hale pulls her in just a little closer.

But nice is all it is, Kenzi reminds herself. There's Nate, for one - Kenzi doesn't screw over people she cares about, and she cares about Nate more than anyone, except Bo (because duh). Plus, Hale is actually a million hundred years older than her, even if he doesn't act like it.

They separate and he bows - he bows, and wow, that is totally not making her blush.

"Not bad," she cracks. She wants to follow it up with some kind of remark about how people who wear such stupid hats don't usually dance so well, or something, but she's kind of blanking. The champagne's making her memory all fuzzy, and all she really remembers is the pressure of his hands on her waist and how near he was.

"Not bad yourself," he says seriously. Too seriously. Way too seriously.

"I told you," she says, sensing an opening. "I'm an expert."

"Right," he says. "Never doubted you for a second." His voice sounds kind of strangled. Their eyes meet and Kenzi sees something, weird and longing, dart across Hale's face.

It's the dress, she decides. She does look pretty great in it.