Author's Note: This story takes place during Lost Girl's season 3, which coincides with Supernatural's season 8. SPOILER ALERT: The reason for this is that is takes place before Kenzi and Hale hook up but it's far enough into the series that the girls are fairly well experienced in fighting the supernatural.
Sam's movements were careful, even deliberately slow as he slid the spatula under the steaming sausage patty and lifted it out to place it on the bottom half of the warm English muffin sitting on the plate. When he settled that he moved to the stove and set the pan down to pick up the one on the burner next to it, cooking four over hard eggs. He switched the burner off and used the spatula to slice through the eggs to divide them. Then he slid it under the eggs and lifted one onto each of the two sausages waiting on each plate and placed the pan and spatula back on the stove.
He moved without rush as he reached over to the cabinet above him and pulled out salt and pepper shakers to season his and Dean's breakfast. He threw a little more on Dean's because his brother was all about excess, especially with food. And work. He set the shakers back on the shelf and closed the cabinet before flipping the top halves of the muffins onto the sausages and snatched up a handful of napkins from the holder to toss onto each plate. With a sigh he lifted the plates up and made his way from the kitchen to the study, where Dean was hunched over a laptop, eyes intent on the screen.
Sam suppressed another sigh. Things had been relatively quiet in terms of work for them so as usual Dean had to go in search of shit to get into. It happened when they sat around the cave, the Men of Letters former headquarters, for too long without work. Dean got antsy, wondering what the hell were the angels up to, what the hell were the demons up to, what was Kevin doing, had he made progress with the tablet, on and on. For the moment, everyone was largely inactive and it felt like the quiet before the storm. So Dean would try to ease the creeping tension building up by finding jobs. Sam would have preferred to take advantage of the relaxation period but didn't care for his brother hunting alone.
"Find anything?" Sam asked reluctantly as he slid the plates onto the table, one in front of Dean and other at the seat his coffee mug sat at across from Dean. His brother immediately pulled the plate towards him and snatched up the sausage biscuit to take a big bite. He nodded at Sam with an approving grin and downed some coffee.
"Matter of fact, yes." He set the biscuit down and wiped his greasy hands on a napkin before sliding the laptop between the two of them. Sam leaned over to read the screen. It displayed a picture of a young man, Robert Duncan, blonde and in his early twenties. He was apparently found dead in the back of his car in the parking lot of a nightclub. There were no visible injuries on him and-
"He died with a smile on his face?" Sam asked incredulously.
"Definitely our thing right?" Dean raised his eyebrows and Sam nodded. They hadn't seen much like that in a while but yes, it fit in their category of weird.
"So what do you think, a-"
"Succubus, possibly." Dean finished. "Haven't taken one in a while, but that part," he tapped on the screen, "hard to forget."
"For you I'm sure." Sam chuckled and Dean threw a balled up napkin at him. He tossed it on the table and went back to reading the news report. He blinked. "Uh, Dean. This happened in Toronto, Canada."
"So?"
"So, that is kind of in another country."
"Eh, technically. We can still drive there."
"Yeah and we still need passports."
"Sam. We walk around flashing fake badges and I.D.'s all the time. We can manage it." He snapped the laptop shut and grabbed his plate while he stood from his seat. "Get ready." He said and walked away with that air of finality that left no room for argument. Sam sighed.
"Trickster, my man!" Kenzi called as she and Bo entered the Dal and made their way to the bar. "Since you were so insistent on inviting us here in the morning I can only assume you have a treat for me as a way of greeting." She quirked her eyebrows at the barkeep while holding her hands out over the bar top. He only gave her a flat look.
"Actually, I really only called Bo."
"Which, by default, includes the calling of me as well. Everybody knows that
Trick." She nudged her hands further in front of him. He sighed, exasperated.
"What'll you have Kenzi?"
"Whiskey neat my friend! She grinned at him and he rolled his eyes but bent to the well to retrieve the booze.
"So Trick, what did you call us here for?" Bo asked while he poured Kenzi's glass. When he finished he held the bottle up to Bo in question and she shook her head. He placed it back on the rack and turned to the shelf behind him where he had a rolled up newspaper tucked between bottles. He laid it out on the bar top in front of Bo and Kenzi and they leaned over to read the page.
"I thought you might want to see this." His voice was grim as the two read over the news report. A young man had been murdered, no injuries were found and he died with a smile on his face.
"Holy shit." Kenzi whispered and concern came over Bo's features.
"Do you think it's-" She swallowed. "Aife?" Bo's mother was the only other succubus she knew and they still had no confirmation of her death. Aife was also not above killing humans. Trick only offered her a sympathetic look.
"Well I can't dismiss the possibility, but honestly I hope this isn't her doing. And it's not as if you and she are the only ones of your kind." Bo sighed.
"Are Dyson and-" She took a breath before continuing.
"Bitchface?" Kenzi offered.
"Tamsin on this?" She couldn't help spitting out the name of Dyson's new Dark Fae partner, who was intent on giving her endless shit. Trick nodded.
"You should talk to Dyson. He may be able to give you something to work with."
"Yeah, or Tamsin'll try to pin it on me. Fifty-fifty right?" Bo said and Trick only gave her a smile that managed to be both sardonic and sympathetic. She puffed up her cheeks and blew out an exasperated burst of air before snatching the newspaper up and pushing herself off the counter. "Let's go Kenz!"
The little human polished off the rest of her drink and patted the counter top. "Thanks for the heads up Trick." She said as she walked off to follow Bo.
"And the free booze!" Trick called after her and she simply waved at him before exiting.
"Honestly, we get a lot faces in here and I'm usually up here well, you know." The D.J. a young guy barely out his teens, gestured at the equipment he was standing behind. His eyes were glazed as he grinned at Bo, who was caressing his arm while her powers ran through him. She and Kenzi had rushed up to him during an intermission period to try to cajole some answers from him. The club had just reopened after maybe a day or two of being closed to clean up the scene of the crime, which was pretty much contained to the victim's car. It was only eight p.m. on a Wednesday night though, so there thankfully wasn't much of a crowd.
"So, nothing unusual, nothing weird?" Bo asked again and he only offered her a dazed smile and a faint shake of his head.
"C'mon, better leave D.J. Drool-a-lot to his mixing before he turns into D.J. Grabs-a-lot." Kenzi tugged on Bo's arm as she watched the guy lean in a little too close to Bo. The succubus held up a finger to signal her friend to wait.
"Well, do you think you could maybe point me in the direction of some of the regulars here? Or anybody you remember being here that night?" She pumped a little more mojo into him and he gave her a few names and descriptions of regular club patrons and where they could usually be found hanging out. She smiled and pulled away. "I appreciate it." And with that the two headed back to the dance floor.
"Alright, I'm gonna see if I can get the bartender to talk assuming he's not still busy with customers, you find those people and see what you can get from them. Dyson should be here by now too." They had called him to the club to discuss the case away from Tamsin's prying ears.
"Meet you here in an hour." Kenzi said and she strutted off to the other side of the dance floor. Bo made her way to the bar and halted. At the left end of the bar were two young men in suits holding up badges to a smartly dressed brunette in her thirties.
"Beatrice Kent." A deep voice said from behind Bo and she jumped and whirled around to see Dyson. "The owner of the club." He said with a smile as he nodded in the woman's direction.
"Yeah, and who are they?"
"Well judging by the suits and badges, I'm gonna say feds."
"Shit. Why are they on this case? Aren't you supposed to like, cover the tracks or something?"
Dyson pursed his lips. "I'll talk to them. You, stay out of site." Bo scowled at this and watched him walk over to the group. She surreptitiously made her way to the bar, dancing with and behind other clubbers to blend into the crowd. She finally reached the counter and made sure to keep her back turned to the group as she leaned against the bar top.
"Is there any way I could look over some of the security footage from that night? Maybe get a look at the guest list too?" The tall attractive one with shoulder length brown hair asked Beatrice.
"Of course, agent Bonham." She said. "Just follow me." She made her way past the bar and over to a door in the wall on the right side of the room, opposite from where the men stood.
"Coming?" Agent Bonham asked his partner, a handsome young man who stood maybe five inches shorter with trimmed, light brown hair.
"Uh, I'm gonna-" He cleared his throat, "see what I can learn from the bartender." He grinned and agent Bonham rolled his eyes. "You go on ahead, she's waiting on you."
Bonham's partner nodded in Beatrice's direction and Bonham sighed and headed off to follow the club owner. Bo watched from the corner of her eye as Bonham's partner sat at the bar. Before she could make a move towards him however, her sight was blocked by Dyson's form. He gently gripped her arm to tug her away from the bar.
"You need to leave." He told her.
"What, why?"
"They're FBI. They came from the States to investigate a serial killer with this M.O."
"A succubus left a trail of bodies all the way from the States to Toronto?"
"I don't know, I haven't heard anything about it but it's not safe for you to be here."
"Oh, come on Dyson. I've been to the States all of once. This isn't linked to me."
"I know that but my partner does not. Chances are they're gonna want to cooperate with our department and that'll put Tamsin on your trail."
"But I haven't done anything. I don't have anything to hide." She heard the defense in her own voice.
"I know." Dyson said with some agitation. "But until we find the real culprit you would be her only lead. And she's already looking for a reason to hound you. Please Bo, we can handle this. Just keep your head down for now." She glared at him. "Bo." He insisted.
"Alright, fine. Whatever. I'm at least gonna have a drink." She turned away from him before he could argue and headed back to the bar. She leaned against the counter and eyed the FBI agent sitting at the other end, chatting with the bartender and holding a drink. She frowned. Pretty sure that wasn't standard police protocol for investigations.
"Please tell me you are having more luck probing the patrons than I am BoBo." Kenzi groaned as she plopped herself down on the seat next to Bo. "Unless there is actual probing going on. Then I don't wanna know about it."
"Hey see if you can find anything out from that fed over there. He and his partner are apparently working a serial killer case with this M.O. from the States." She nodded at the agent across the bar and Kenzi lifted a brow.
"You mean agent hello-hella-gorgeous over there? Sure, no problem. I am on it." She grinned and flipped her hair. "What about you?"
"His partner agent Bonham went off with the club owner to look at security footage and the guest list. I'm gonna see what I get from there." Bo pushed herself off the bar and danced through the crowd, glancing around the club to see if Dyson was still looming. So far so good. She weaved her way through the crowd to the door agent Bonham and Beatrice Kent headed off to.
"Right, well give me a call if you remember anything." Dean handed his card to the bartender, a bald tattooed beefcake named Dave. A petite young woman with long black hair and gothic attire plopped herself down directly next to him.
"Whiskey, neat." She ordered and smiled over at Dean. He smirked back.
"Kinda strong, isn't it?' He said as he eyed her small frame.
"Oh, well if you can't handle it," She slid his glass over from where it sat on the bar top in front of him and proceeded to gulp down his beverage. "I'd be happy to polish it off for you." She said when she finished and smiled at him again as she placed the empty glass in front of him. The bartender clinked her drink in front of her and told her the cost. She reached into the trim of her black corset but Dean put his hand up and she paused. He reached into his jacket and pulled out a wallet, placing a bill on the counter.
"On me. Keep the change."
The girl smirked. "You are definitely not dressed for a nightclub."
"I'm actually, uh-"
"Fed?" She finished and he raised an eyebrow at her.
"Oh please. It's only like, super obvious. Especially since someone died here and all."
"You heard about that?"
"Think anybody who comes here ever has heard about that. Why are the feds on it though?" She asked and he smirked.
"Classified."
"Mhm. So, what? Serial killer then?"
He laughed, somewhat nervously. "Told you, classified. You know, anybody ever tell you your eyes," He folded his fingers in then stretched them out a couple times, "really pop." She giggled.
"All the time. You jealous? What color are your eyes? Brown? How boring."
"Greenish…hazel." He answered, a little defensively.
"Nuh-uh." She leaned in and he stilled as their eyes met. "Hm…guess so. Got some brown in there though." She moved in closer and a smile crept onto his face when he swore he could see her blushing.
"I'd be happy to let you inspect my eyes all you like. And anywhere else." He smirked and she returned the grin as she sat back and swiped up her drink to gulp it down.
"Hmm…maybe later." She said after she finished the drink and sat it back on the counter. She winked and hopped off her stool to disappear into the crowd of gyrating bodies on the dance floor.
Meanwhile, Bo was trying to restrict her steps to the front of her feet since her stilettos tended to make attention grabbing clicks on the tile floor as she crept down the corridor to edge towards the voices around the corner.
"You understand though, this is just a list of people who made credit and debit card purchases that night." Beatrice was saying. "We don't write down all of our guests names and it's quite possible your man didn't buy anything or purchased with cash."
"Any little thing helps. You don't think he was possible a regular here though?" Agent Bonham asked and Beatrice huffed.
"Agent, I can assure you nothing like this has ever happened at my club. If you want to look at names from previous nights, I can manage it but it'll take me a while to print them all out."
Bo peeked around the corner and watched the two converse, Bonham holding a sheet of paper in his hands. He smiled at Beatrice. "I would very much appreciate that if you could ma'm." Beatrice scowled at him. "Miss. Kent. Beatrice." He shifted and Beatrice waved him off.
"Alright I'll start on it. Let me show you the security room first." Bo watched as Beatrice led Bonham down the hall and around a right corner. She listened to their footsteps and heard a door open and after a moment close again. Bo glanced around her to make sure nobody was coming since she only managed to get back here with Kenzi's lock pick tools she started to carry on her and getting caught would have sucked. Maybe Kenzi should have taken this part, but Bo sensed there might be danger with the fed and if she had to she could use her powers on him to get the information she needed.
She jumped a bit when she heard the door to the security room open again a few minutes later and listened to the click of Beatrice's heels as she came down the hall and rounded the corner to walk back to the door at the end of the corridor on the right hand side. She held her breath as the woman stepped into the room and closed the door behind her. As she exhaled she stepped around the corner she hid behind and slowly made her way to the right corner on the other end of the hall. She looked behind her once to check for Beatrice and moved forward.
She barely managed to gasp when a hand came from behind to clamp down over her mouth. Agent Bonham moved in front of her to shove her against the wall, with a pistol leveled at her face. She tried to jerk her leg up but he had moved to the side, carefully out of kicking range.
"Who are you?" He demanded as he moved his hand away from her mouth. As soon as he did she lifted her head up and breathed in. A string of blue mist moved from his mouth to hers and she watched him go gradually limp. When he dropped his arm she grabbed his wrist and pushed him back, then turned them around so his back was against the wall.
"Better idea," She said as she pulled the gun from his grasp and caressed his cheek and an orange glow slid over him as her powers moved throughout his body. "I need to get a look at those security tapes. And that guest list. Can you make that happen?" She cooed and moved in to plant a kiss on his lips, intensifying her power over him. He nodded with a smile and pulled a folded up piece of paper out of his suit jacket and handed it to her. Then he reached in his jacket again and pulled out a disc and once again held it out to her. She grinned and took it from him then opened her mouth to pull another string of Chi from him, just enough to knock him out. "Always appreciate a helping hand." She set the gun back down on his person. And with that she tucked the items into her tank top and made her way out the emergency exit located at the end of the hall.
"Sam? Sam!" Dean's voice came into hearing as a shout. Sam opened his eyes to see his brother's concerned face looming in front of him.
"Agent Bronham?" Beatrice spoke from somewhere above and he realized he was sitting on the floor and slouched against a wall. He looked up over Dean's shoulder to see Beatrice's also worried face as she stood behind his brother. "Are you alright? I came back to give you the list and you were completely unconscious. What happened? Do you need a doctor?"
Sam groaned as he lifted himself up, but didn't actually feel any pain or even drowsiness. "I was attacked." He said as Dean helped him to his feet. "And no doctor. I'm fine. Really." Beatrice gave him a skeptical look.
"Ms. Kent, do you think my partner and I could have a moment alone?" Dean asked in a tone that assured it wasn't really a request. She lifted an eyebrow at him eyed the brothers for a moment before nodding.
"I'll be in my office." And with that she turned to head down the hall and round the corner. Sam and Dean waited until they heard her footsteps reach the door of her office and the telling click of the door opening and closing again before they spoke.
"Was it the succubus?" Dean asked and Sam nodded.
"Yeah, a woman. She touched me and I felt…" He trailed off. Dean chuckled.
"Yeah, I know what you felt. It's what they do, make you feel all dirty and ready to rock right there, am I right?" Sam only rolled his eyes.
"She did this thing, like drained me of energy from my mouth-" Dean grinned at this. "Shut up. I think she was feeding from me."
"Sounds about right. Did you get the footage and the list?" Dean asked and Sam tensed. He felt around inside his jacket and his pants pockets.
"Uh…"
It was Dean's turn to roll his eyes. "Seriously? You got whammied and robbed by a succubus? It is not our lucky day." Sam huffed and then knitted his eyebrows together.
"Not our?" He asked and after a moment Dean sighed in defeat.
"I uh-" He cleared his throat. "Someone might have relieved me of my…wallet." He mumbled.
"You got robbed?! At a night club?" Sam asked incredulously.
"Shut up. It's fine, I'll just make another badge and ugh, earn more cash." He groaned and cursed.
"No, no, wait a minute. A succubus attacks and robs me coincidentally at the same time someone steals from you?" Sam lifted his eyebrows at his brother and Dean's eyes widened.
"Son of a bitch. They're together."
"And likely in on the killing."
