"…There's something inside me that pulls beneath the surface. Consuming, confusing…"
Crawling by Linkin Park
…
'Immature, irresponsible and clingy.'
It really did sound different when you weren't the one saying it about yourself. Certainly, it lacked adorability and a certain element of humour that Kenzi prided herself on being capable of adding to almost anything. There was a harshness to it that chiselled at her insides, creating a dull uncomfortable feeling within the closure of her chest.
The words had been meant as a joke when she'd said them. Only, they had never been just a joke. There was always a grain of truth in them that had worked its way, unbidden, into her speech. Except now, thrown back at her by Bo in lieu of the good doctor, they were all insult, all truth.
No joke there.
She didn't exactly have any great defence for them either. She was those things, had admitted to being them jovially enough to Bo. Lauren had thought they showed a bad side of her character, though, and Kenzi began to wonder whether Bo thought the same. She'd obviously thought about it, maybe even talked to Lauren about it. After all, it had been those words of Lauren's that she had automatically jumped to in defence of her girlfriend. Those words that she even seemed to agree with.
Kenzi couldn't care less what Lauren thought of her – though, after their enlightening little spat yesterday she was beginning to reconsider whether or not her opinion really was the lowest of the low, after all – but Bo . . .
She cared what Bo thought.
Was the succubus annoyed by her immaturity, becoming frustrated by her lack of responsibility?
'You just bounce through life, no job, no plan, from one beer to the next…'
Yeah, she didn't have a proper job, had never had one actually – unless the community service of pickpocketing counting. She had started up this Fae detective agency thing she had going on with Bo, though, and that had to count for something. True, it was mostly Bo who paid for their stuff but that was because she used her succubus-y powers to charm her way into getting things for free most of the time. She also didn't want Kenzi to help out with her sticky fingers which, really, wasn't all that different to what she was doing with her abilities. There just wasn't yet a law against using Succubus thrall to make people fall over themselves trying to hand you anything you could ever want.
Did Bo think she should get a job, though, a proper job?
Kenzi gnawed on her bottom lip in thought, cringing slightly when the burning rash on her arm reached a new level of painful. It had gone from itchy to ouch-mother-fucker sometime after watching Bo go all big bad wolf on the little piggies last night. Throughout the day it had come and gone, getting progressively worse each time on the come.
It was getting to be a real bitch, starting to look like it too.
The rash was far from pretty now – not that it had even been in the same country as pretty to begin with – also with an emphasis on grizzly. All the skin along the area had peeled off within the last few days and she'd taken to having to wear a bandage over it. Changing those every time they got too bloody was a lesson in stealth, having to be careful that Bo wouldn't walk in and discover her.
Mind drawn back to Bo and her earlier thoughts, she winced, the pain in her arm increasing.
'…clingy.'
The memory of the word throbbed in her head. Out of everything, it was this one word that got to her the most.
She didn't want to consider it but was Bo beginning to find Kenzi a little too clingy, and not in the cute-little-sister way but rather the suffocating-friend-I can't-seem-to-get-rid-of one? After all, it was doubtful the two could have spent more time together if there had been an umbilical cord between them. For Kenzi, this wasn't an issue – Bo's presence was as expected and appreciated as an appendage – but that was her. She'd always craved the company of others, even those that weren't all that pleasant.
Christmas had been her favourite day of the year as a kid. Not because of the presents – which were rather dismal and pathetic anyway – or the food – which was kicker – but because it was the only time of the year when she found it impossible to be alone. Her big crazy Russian family all together in the one house, cooing over her, berating her, kissing her, knit-picking, touching her – it was unbearable. She'd always found her family rather intolerable. But she was used to the crowd, the cacophony, the lack of breathing space. It was natural to her, and it was better than being alone. Especially when her stepfather came into the picture and alone meant having to endure his unwelcome attentions.
Even after Kenzi had run away, she'd never really been completely alone. Living on the streets, she'd flittered back and forth between different gangs of other homeless teens, forming loose friendships. Apart from Ozzy, none of them had been all that important but they'd, at least, filled some of the space left behind in her life after leaving home.
Bo hadn't grown up with a big family, though, and she had never seemed to crave the company of others to the same degree that Kenzi did. Travelling alone as she had for so many years, the Succubus had grown used to her own company. Maybe that made the younger woman's near constant presence overwhelming or simply plain irritating, even off-putting.
Kenzi hoped that wasn't the case but . . . what if it was?
No, that was ridiculous. She and Bo were solid god. Their friendship was 11/10 on the awesome-o-meter, utterly without faults.
They were fine.
God, she was only on her seventh shot and nowhere near drunk enough to deal with these kinds of thoughts.
As if in answer to a prayer, she was promptly torn from them by the sound of approaching footsteps, just audible over the mindless chatter of the bar and Trick's terrible taste in music. The stool beside her was pulled out and she glanced over to see Dyson sitting down. She was relieved to note that the clueless, mischievous and, at times, horny expression was gone from his face – thank god, if she ever had to deal with Teenage Dyson again it would be too soon. Instead, he had a somewhat cheeky smirk in place. While this was preferred, it still didn't necessarily bode well for Kenzi.
"Hey," he greeted, voice warm and slightly gruff – all traces of Scottish-ness gone, thankfully. "I hear you had some fun with a stick."
Kenzi's smirk was immediate, almost unable to believe the opening she'd just been given. It was too good. He noticed her look immediately and recognised his mistake, mouth twitching slightly in faint amusement.
"Don't," he warned before she could say anything.
"Oh man, but it's right there!" she protested. "It's like begging for it, dude."
He remained unmoved. "Then impress me with your self-restraint by not giving into it."
"Spoil sport," she grumbled, looking away, but not before catching another mouth twitch. Bastard.
"I'm sure you'll find it in your heart to forgive me." He raised a second glass of sweet, sweet booze that he'd brought with him and slid it along the bar to her. Kenzi's eyes followed its progress with the utmost attention, her mouth watering slightly at this unexpected gift. All of a sudden, she pounced on it, bringing the glass to clutch to her chest as though someone would soon snatch it away.
Catching Dyson's amused expression, she forced herself to regain composure. "I may," she allowed, raising the glass to take a dainty and oh so stoic sip.
Dyson smirked, taking a swallow of his own booze, his much less restrained than her own. "So, tell me about this stick."
Kenzi was only too happy to oblige. "Oh, it was so kick-ass!" she exclaimed, jumping into it immediately and gesturing about enthusiastically with her arms. Dyson dodged a stray hand his way and some of the contents of her glass spilt over but she paid it no mind. "I was kick-ass. I mean, if Martin Goodman had been there, they'd be making a comic book hero out of me. The Super-Kenz, the most kick-ass hero to ever be. I'd be everyone's favourite."
Dyson appeared to be restraining a laugh which she didn't so much appreciate. She was being completely serious. "I'm sure you would be."
"Damn straight," she responded with a nod of certainty.
"So I'm taking it you had fun?"
"Oh, yeah," she moaned. "I mean, the whole having a stick stuck to my hand was a bit of a downer but the Kung Fu skills were a sweet bonus. And, you know," she looked down for a second into her glass, before admitting with a shrug of attempted nonchalance, "It was kind of nice to be the superhero for once." She moved on quickly before Dyson could comment, "I mean, don't get me wrong, I love being rescued as much as the next girl – much less chance of messing up this super freakin' awesome manicure – but doing the rescuing for a change is kind of nice to. I make a pretty damn good hero."
Dyson smiled at her fondly. "I remember. It wasn't so long ago you rescued me."
Kenzi smiled too, more than a little touched that he still remembered that. After all, she'd broken the heel of her favourite boots just to wheel him out from that place. Admittedly, it was one of her less glamorous forays into heroism – hiding beneath a dead guy wasn't exactly something she ever wanted to repeat.
That wasn't to say she wouldn't do it again in a heartbeat, though, if it meant Dyson's life. She'd do anything for him, for any of her friends. Even ruin another pair of heels.
"But you gave it up," he prodded, referring to the stick of awesomeness she'd somewhat regrettably set aside.
Kenzi shrugged. "Yeah, well, I figured there's only so much awesome one person should have. You know, to be fair to everyone else. I was just thinking of you guys."
"It's appreciated," he told her with false gravity.
She jerked her head in assent. "Better be. I was freakin' awesome with that stick."
"Well, if memory serves, you've never needed a stick to be 'awesome'." He smiled across at her – he seemed to be doing that a lot this evening. Not that she was complaining. She liked it when Dyson smiled, liked it even more when he smiled at her.
She wouldn't delve too much into the reasons for that, though.
"Correct," she agreed, nodding to herself – as if such a fact could ever be doubted.
"For the sake of the Fae, it's probably best you don't have one."
"Yeah. Right." Kenzi snorted to herself. "The Norn's probably still getting over that heart attack I gave her." She paused momentarily, brow furrowing as something suddenly occurred to her. "Do Fae get heart attacks? I mean, because if not that's just way unfair."
He seemed to consider this for a moment. "I've never come across one who has."
She rolled her eyes, taking a gulp of her drink which Dyson had been oh so kind to procure for her. It was definitely earning him some added brownie points. "You Fae and your privileges."
"Well, it might have something to do with the fact that we never invented anything like McDonalds." He looked at her meaningfully, causing her to gape in offence.
"Hey! Don't dis the Maccas, man," she protested. "That stuff got me through my teens. Affordable and yummy, my kind of heaven." Living on the streets with only the money she could pilfer, it had been a necessary basis for her diet.
He wasn't as convinced. "It tastes like plastic, Kenz."
She narrowed her eyes at him. "That's it. You are officially uninvited from our next McHappy night." She paused, remembering too late that she and the gang didn't actually have a McHappy night. Well, that was about to change. "Just as soon as we start having them."
"It will be a struggle but somehow I will find a way to go on," he replied, voice too serious to be genuine and then there was that annoying twinkle in his eyes.
She pouted. "You're awfully snarky tonight. That time of the wolf month? No, wait. This is left over residue from the teen grenade, isn't it?"
"Actually, I fear it might be my new partner rubbing off on me." He grimaced slightly at the possibility and she couldn't help but do so too – she wouldn't wish Tamsin's charming personality on anyone. "We just had a beer. Pretended what had happened didn't." He nodded his head to the far corner of the bar where the blonde detective currently sat, draining shot after shot. She certainly seemed to be trying to forget the events of yesterday.
She narrowed her eyes at the thought. To forget something, you actually had to be able to remember it in the first place. Oh, God-
"Wait, can you remember what happened?" Please no. The memory of her and Dyson's . . . exchange against the wall was too embarrassing for her own mind, she didn't need to share it with his as well.
He hesitated a moment. "No."
She scowled at him accusingly. "Oh, you so do, Duran Duran."
"Never to be spoken of again," he stated firmly.
"Mm hm. 'Mouth is alive, all running inside and I'm hungry like the wolf'," she sang, earning the evil eye from the wolf in question.
"Kenzi," he warned, earning an innocent blink from her return. He sighed. "It's all too fuzzy, really, to make much of anything out. Just bits and pieces, really – none of which make any sense to be honest."
She scratched her cheek nervously and questioned, trying to appear as nonchalant as possible, "What kinds of bits and pieces?" As long as there was nothing to do with a wall, she was in the clear.
"Dancing mostly," he told her after a thoughtful pause. "Something to do with weapons practice, oddly enough. And the colour blue. I'm not sure what that could mean."
Kenzi blushed slightly and raised her glass to her lips, avoiding his gaze. "It's a mystery." The red in her cheeks deepened slightly as she remembered his fixation with her eyes and all that had come after. Oh, boy, was that going to take some serious booze to forget.
Dyson grunted in assent, eyeing her speculatively for a moment. "So, I noticed yesterday that things between you and Lauren seemed a little bit less frosty."
She continued to avoid his gaze. "Yeah, well, I guess she's not so bad." She was surprised to find that she actually meant it. She certainly wasn't about to be waving pom poms for the doc anytime soon but she'd managed to earn some respect in Kenzi's eyes. She'd been more than resourceful in making a cure for the Fae slug that had slithered its way into their friends. Learning that she'd served in Afghanistan had also gone a way in showing her a side of the doctor that she hadn't previously thought was there, a side that was decidedly tough.
Plus, she'd punched Vex. So, at least she had game.
To her confusion, he seemed oddly pleased to hear this. "No, she's not."
"Don't get me wrong," she added quickly. "I'm still on Team Dyson."
"You don't need to be, Kenz."
"Are you kidding me? I'm Team Dyson for life, whatever happens." She paused, feeling a little nervous about the next subject she was going to broach.
…
Vex eyed the approaching Tamsin with apprehension and more than a little curiosity. Since her return to the area after centuries of absence, she had made little attempt to talk to him or even acknowledge his presence. He wasn't too fussed by that – the two of them had never gotten along swimmingly in the first place. Actually, he could distinctly recall having her stab herself with her own sword the last time he saw her. Still, it begged the question why she was approaching him now. While he was interested to find out her reasons, common sense told him that they probably didn't bode well for him.
This was confirmed by her greeting of a lethal smirk as she swung into the seat beside him. "So, Vexie, I hear you're the one to blame for my recent humiliation."
Ah, bugger. He'd known this couldn't be good for him. "Actually, love, that was all the Morrigan," he said quickly. "I was just a victim caught up in it all, really."
"Oh, really?" The falsely pleasant countenance disappeared in a flash and she leaned in closer to him. He'd never had the misfortune of witnessing her go full Valkyrie before but seeing the menace in her gaze now, he had no trouble imagining it. Oh, what he wouldn't give for the ability to use her own limbs against her once more. Perhaps then she wouldn't dare to threaten him. He then realized that was pretty unlikely – she'd always had more balls than was safe. "You pull a stunt like that again, Vex, and I'll hit you with so much doubt you'll be second guessing your own manhood into the next dozen centuries," she snapped.
Well that was just uncalled for.
After staring at him a moment longer, making sure the threat was well and truly received, she stood to her feet and turned to leave.
He wasn't about to let her have the last word, though.
"Sure you're strong enough for that, love?" He called after her. "A little birdy whispered in my ear that you're at the end of your life. Can't say I disagree with 'em – you're looking a little worn around the edges I have to say." He couldn't bite back the smirk of triumph at the surprise and fury that battled their way across her face at his words. Struck a nerve, he had.
Pushing out the stool beside him, he gestured at it playfully. "Come, take a seat. Share a beer with your old pal, Vex." This could be fun.
…
A/N: I know, Vex and Tamsin aren't really part of the story but they kept talking in my head and so eventually I just had to give into peer pressure and include them. The next update won't take so long, promise!
