My Love, My Life, My Warrior

AN: I've seen a lot of Season 4 fixits and a lot of use of a certain plot device I rather like, so I figured I'd put my two cents in, but from a different mythological standpoint. Here's hoping all goes well. Title taken from a piece I wrote for my Valkubus fic "Dearly Loved."

Chapter One

The pain was what woke her: two gouges of agony carved between her shoulder blades by dull knives burning white-hot. Dizzy and gasping, Tamsin tumbled from her bed and onto her hands and knees, her nails digging into the floor as she made a desperate crawl to the stairs. "Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit," she hissed as she staggered her way downwards, barely keeping herself from face-planting as she shakily stumbled to what counted as the kitchen in the crack shack. Shaking hot and cold, sweating and shivering, Tamsin braced herself against the counter and let her wings break free with a sigh of relief. Stretching the tender limbs with care, the Valkyrie turned her now-skeletal face to see what was wrong.

"Shit!"

Tamsin's wings, once shining white with the barest hints of outlined brown, were now black as night and pitch and tar. They hung in a malicious sort of droop, the feathers listless and barely discernable in the hints of moonlight shining through the broken walls. Still taking desperate gulps of air, each one a sharp stab in her lungs, Tamsin curved her wings just far enough for her to reach back and touch them. As she had feared, the texture of her feathers had become rough and harsh, almost grating against her skin.

"No, no…" the Valkyrie whispered to herself, as if saying the words aloud would make it true. "It isn't possible…"

The creak of footsteps down the stairs gave Tamsin just enough time to retract her wings and let her face return to its usual appearance. Bo appeared in the living room a moment later, rubbing sleep from her eyes. "Tamsin?" she mumbled, trying to assess the situation as best as a half-awake succubus could. "You ok?"

"I'm good, succulette," Tamsin replied, trying to keep her tone aloof and casual. "Just needed a drink."

"Tamsin, it's three in the morning…"

"Of water."

"Oh. Sorry." Bo yawned and turned back to the stairs, but not before giving the Valkyrie one last contemplative look. "G'night, Tamsin."

Only when the succubus's footsteps had faded away did Tamsin murmur, "Good night, Bo."

Sure that she was alone again, Tamsin brought her wings back out, staring at what they'd become. No one could know about this. Not Kenzi and especially not Bo. How could she even explain it to them?

How could she tell them she had Fallen?

…

Bo fiddled with the rim of her beer bottle as she watched Tamsin play doubles with Dyson against Kenzi and Hale. The blonde had been more subdued than usual and seemed to be making it a point to avoid the succubus as much as possible, spending time with Kenzi instead. Bo understood the whole "momz" thing Tamsin had with the human, but she still had her suspicions that something was going on. Ever since she'd found the Valkyrie in the kitchen in the middle of the night.

It didn't help that Bo was starting to become very fond of Tamsin in a way she couldn't quite interpret. She had originally written it off as just affection for the cheery, innocent Tamsin the Valkyrie had been as she was growing up, but everything changed the day Bo went to rescue her from Massimo's lair: the day Tamsin had spread her wings for the first time and stared Bo down with a skeletal visage both beautiful and terrifying. Bo had placed her hand on Tamsin's cheek and stared into the depths of those haunting eyes without falter, the flutter of the Valkyrie's wings echoing in her ears.

That's what love feels like.

Bo shook herself and took a long pull from the beer bottle. She had Lauren and Dyson to deal with; the last thing she needed was another player on the field. The cruelty of her own thoughts surprised her so much that she found herself downing the rest of her drink to chase it away. She turned to ask her grandfather for another and found Trick already sliding one towards her.

"Thanks," she mumbled in weary bemusement, taking another long drink.

"You look like you could use it," Trick commented neutrally before going back to cleaning glasses. "Anything I can help with?"

"Just…stuff," Bo gave up with a wave of her hand. "I'll figure it out. Eventually. But thanks. So, doing anything for Halloween?" she continued, wanting to change the subject.

"Samhain, Bo," Trick corrected patiently. "Humans celebrate Halloween."

The succubus grinned. "And yet that didn't stop you from holding a rather impressive costume party last year."

The bartender rolled his eyes. "It was a fancy dress party, and fancy dress was optional. If I recall correctly, Kenzi got a lot of scathing looks for that ridiculous getup she claimed was a cat costume."

"They were just jealous of my mad styling skillz," Kenzi cut in. She and the others had finished their game of pool and come to the bar looking for more drinks. Tamsin, Bo noticed, made sure to put both Kenzi and Hale between her and the succubus.

Trick gave the human a pointed look. "Whatever it was, there will be none of that this year, young lady. But to answer your question, Bo, yes, I am holding a Samhain celebration."

"Yes!" Hale, Kenzi, and Dyson exclaimed, and their response made Trick roll his eyes again along with Bo and Tamsin.

"If you miscreants don't mind, I'd like to keep it a little more civil than last year," Trick stressed, even as he put shot glasses in front of everyone and brought out the vodka without question. "I'd rather not have to replace any more tables."

"That was an accident!" Kenzi whined.

"All the same," Trick insisted, and the human sighed.

"Fine, fine," Kenzi accepted with an overdramatic sigh. "Killjoy." She was about to come up with a further retort when the door to the Dal banged open and the Fae that stormed in rendered the place silent.

The Morrigan, slightly disheveled and definitely angry, marched forward and shoved Bo and Hale aside so she could plant her hands on the bar, nails digging into the wood.

"Blood King, we have a serious problem."

Samhain: pronounced "SOW-an" ("ow" like "cow"). One of the four Celtic seasonal festivals. Samhain marks the end of harvest season and is also said to be the day when the veil between this world and the Otherworld is thinnest.