Disclaimer: I do not own Lost Girl, the plot is of my own imaginings, and any characters that are unfamiliar. (This is set AU of S3 episode 11—Lauren's job was not Fae related, and Bo's father has not yet gotten involved)
05 December, 2013
"Remind me again why I'm doing you a favor," the pert woman asked as she jiggled her foot against the back of the squad car.
Hale shifted visibly in the passenger seat, "Because I'm paying for you dry cleaning, and I'll buy the drinks after this."
"Top shelf," Kenzi prodded, still more than annoyed with Hale.
"I guess," Hale bowed out. "And you won't kill me?"
"No deal," Kenzi ground out, slamming her combat boot against the metal grate.
"Hey," Dyson growled smacking his hand against the grate, "settle down back there!"
A tiny pink tongue sticking out from between two glossy red lips was the response Kenzi gave. "Make me," she sneered.
"I will come back there and spank you, Young Lady," Dyson mock-glared into the rearview mirror, his grey eyes locking with her green eyes.
"I'd like to see you try," Kenzi returned, snapping her gum, blowing bubbles and popping them sharply.
Before Dyson could respond Hale groaned, "Would you two please stop before I have to turn a hose on you!"
"Sorry," Dyson laughed as he drove to the station. "Kenzi are you ready?"
Kenzi rolled her eyes, "Oh Sweetheart, I've been grifting since the Cookie Caper of '93."
"What," Hale muttered.
"Look I was a precocious four year old who was denied a second cookie. So I stole the cookies and the vodka," Kenzi told him darkly.
"What," Hale repeated.
Kenzi shrugged, shifting so that her handcuffed hands weren't pressed into the seat, "Don't you dunk your cookies into vodka?"
"No," Hale exclaimed more than a little perplexed.
"Your missing you," Kenzi sighed happily. "Happy Vodka Cookies are the absolute best."
"Pun intended," Dyson wondered.
Kenzi mock-choked, "I'm a Green Label girl. Specially smuggled into the country by my Uncle Vlad, I would not touch anything else."
"Really," Dyson asked.
"Well, besides the barrel vodka my Grandpa Niko used to make, I've only made a few batches here in the states," Kenzi reminisced.
Hale frowned and twisted to face the girl, "You do realize that you're in a car, in handcuffs with two cops?"
"Both of whom I have enough dirt on to bury, plant a tree, and sip sweet tea beneath," Kenzi fired back.
"Like I was saying," Dyson cut in, "are you ready, Kenz?"
"And like I was saying, I'm always ready." Both men coughed lightly at the suggestive statement.
Kenzi sagged as Dyson pressed her forward, making him struggle to keep her upright. If there was one thing that Kenzi knew how to do, it was how to put on a show. Dyson wasn't half bad himself. He promptly jerked her upright, shaking her lightly. She stepped forward, jerking in a false-attempt to get free.
"Get off," she snarled.
"Keep moving," Dyson answered tightly.
Kenzi wriggled again, trying to throw Dyson off balance. It was a futile attempt. There was no way that Kenzi who might have weighed a buck-five soaking wet would through of a fae, and a shifter fae at that.
"Ah," Kenzi growled in frustration, shoving back, her hands brushing against firm denim and things that may or may not have been pressing against the denim.
"Kenzi," Dyson growled under his breath. She was good, too good. Dyson was becoming more than a little uncomfortable with the writhing and bouncing bits of Kenzi that happened to be a little too close for public consumption. Quickly, Dyson guided Kenzi towards the holding cells and to where her real mission would begin.
At the same time as Kenzi's admittance another person joined her, having watched the scene she had put on in the bullpen. For extra effect Kenzi shook Dyson off as he took her cuffs off, "Pig!"
Dyson shook his head and walked out of the room, leaving Kenzi and her new cell mate to hang. Kenzi sighed and turned on her heel, so it was a little cold for a white tank top and a plaid miniskirt, but Kenzi was a method actress. She didn't go around in skin-tight jeans pretending to be a slutty pick-pocket, which just happened to be her cover for the morning.
Popping her gum once more, Kenzi appraised the suspect that the precinct had been struggling with. "So," she dropped onto the concrete bench, "what you in for?"
The young, blonde, man shook his head. He was wearing ripped up jeans and converse, a large hoodie and a skullcap. "I'm innocent," he responded with a tight smile.
Kenzi scoffed, "Yeah, me too."
"I am," the guy asserted.
"Sure, whatevs," Kenzi agreed. "So what does the establishment call you?"
"Really," the man asked. "Tim."
"Ooh," Kenzi swung her legs up onto the bench, laying down and stretching her legs into the air, milky skin stretching taut. "Tim is a pretty badass name."
Tim stared at the dark haired woman. He could just see the curve of her ass beneath the tiny skirt. "What do they call you?"
"Sasha," Kenzi offered, dropping one leg down and draping the other over her bent knee.
"And what are you in for, Sasha," Tim smirked, standing and moving closer to her.
"Well I pick pocketed the jackass that threw me in here, and then he had the balls to feel me up," Kenzi huffed.
Tim sat down at Kenzi's feet, his fingers inching across her boot, slipping up the ankle and walking across her bare calf, her knee, down her thigh. "I could probably help you get off."
Kenzi sat up, leaning forward and resisting the urge to bring her boot down on somebody's Christmas package. "Really?"
Tim nodded, his fingers curling around her upper thigh, "I might have a trick or two up my sleeve."
"That sounds too good to be true," Kenzi lifted his hand off her thigh, methodically, metaphorically, stepping back. "How?"
Tim licked his lips, "My cousin is a cop in another precinct."
"So," Kenzi pressed. "What he just takes you into custody?"
"Yeah, and then loses the paperwork," Tim confided. "You wouldn't believe the jams he's gotten me out of."
"Oh," Kenzi bit her lip, eyelashes fluttering quickly, breasts pressed up and together.
"Yeah stuff way worse than a little theft. I stole a Porsche last month, and the report with my description mysteriously got lost in the system," Tim grinned, dropping his hand back onto Kenzi's thigh.
"Okay," she agreed. "But what's in it for you to help me?"
"Sasha," he sighed lightly, a small frown on his lips. "I just want to help a very good friend of mine, very good friend."
"Well," Dyson muttered from the door and Tim jumped away, giving Kenzi the chance to slip out of the cell that had never been lcoked. "That was quite the confession."
"What," Tim exclaimed, rushing to the door and Kenzi who rotated the key in the lock and skipped backwards. Tim Froze, nostrils flaring, lips thinning in anger. "This is inadmissible in court! I was lying to get laid."
Dyson stepped forward and lay an arm around Kenzi's shoulders. "That might be true, if your cousin hadn't just shown up and flipped on you when he saw that confession."
"You bitch," Tim growled, gripping the cell bars and pushing furiously.
"Actually," Kenzi smirked, cherry lips curving gracefully, "that would be you. Bye-bye." Stepping backwards and closer to Dyson, Kenzi lifted her hand and gave a quick wave of farewell. Dyson chuckled darkly, following Kenzi out of the room.
Kenzi was met with a round of applause. She halted and slid into a curtsy, hand twisting into a pretty flourish as she took her bows. "Thank you, thank you," she blew a kiss and winked playfully.
Dyson covered the smile on his face with a hand, his free arm crossed over his stomach. "You did good, Kenz."
"I know," she smiled. "But you so owe me, that guy was kinda gross."
Dyson led her over to his desk and she quickly sat in his chair, fiddling with the height before he caught her attention by leaning in and dangling something shiny in front of her eyes. "Just between you and I," he told her. "One pair of handcuff keys, from me to you."
Kenzi's eyes sparkled darkly and she snatched the keys from between Dyson's fingers. "I'll take it to the grave," she promised, crossing her heart and smiling widely. "I am going to have so much fun with you, my precious little shinies!"
"And with that," Dyson helped her out of the chair, "you should go before I have to arrest you for real."
"You say that," Kenzi sighed, eyes a little moony, "but all I hear is a chance to use my new prezzie!"
"Out," Dyson pointed laughingly. "I need Hale to do some paperwork, and right now he's too afraid to come out of the shooting range."
"Fine," Kenzi pouted, before reaching out and hugging Dyson lightly. She retreated quickly and skipped out of the precinct before he could even call out a goodbye.
Outside of the precinct Kenzi took off at a run, she had a good distance to cover in a short amount of time. Kenzi slipped down alleys and dodged across the light traffic. She knew immediately when her head-start was over, her phone buzzed harshly against her bare breast where it was tucked beneath her bra.
Dyson was most definitely aware that she had swiped his handcuffs. To be honest he had it coming. Giving her the keys was a nice gesture, a fun gesture, but he should have seen what was coming. Kenzi had plans, she had fun plans. Plans that involved a certain Valkyrie and a certain Succubus. Of course those plans would be finished before she could even do any plotting if Kenzi didn't leg it to her safe house.
Safe house might have been an overstatement. All it really was, was an old dance studio. One Kenzi had found early on in her independent life. She didn't dance much anymore, not after everything with her Stepfather. He had just tainted her source of joy. When she did dance, or just needed a few minutes away from the world, Kenzi would slip away to her own little studio. It had been abandoned due to poor success. The windows were gone, replaced with spray painted wood. The floor was mostly free of dirt and dust, and only a few of the ballet mirrors were missing.
It was her little secret.
Stretching out on the floor, Kenzi twirled the handcuffs around her index finger. Wondering precisely how she was going to manage to handcuff Tamsin and Bo together and not get Succubused or Valkyried in the process.
It wouldn't be impossible. It would just require a little cunning, and maybe a little more vodka.
Plunking the icy bottle down onto the counter, Kenzi grinned at her friends. "Tonight we play Cards Against Humanity."
"What," Tamsin drawled dryly.
"Okay, maybe Cards Against Faeanity," Kenzi utter the correction.
"What is it," Bo asked hand reaching out to pick at the cards.
"The best game ever," Kenzi exclaimed, her hands slamming down on the counter. "Every lost point is a shot."
"What will always get you laid," Kenzi asked, reciveing more than a few giggles and one or two snorts from Tamsin. They had only been playing for an hour and already both were more than a little tipsy.
"Ooh," Bo gasped, pushing her answer card towards Kenzi before wincing at the quick movement. Tamsin slapped her own card down next to Bo's.
Kenzi picked both up and shuddered lightly. "Bo-Bo says…Used Panties, and Tam-Tam's response is, oh my god, Altar Boys." Tamsin cackled sharply, taking a shot just for the hell of it. "I think," Kenzi paused, "this round goes to Tamsin and her corruption of…blech." Kenzi dropped the cards in the used pile before taking a shot herself.
"Chug," Bo giggled, grabbing the bottle from Kenzi and tipping it over her head only to have it ripped away by Tamsin.
The human raised a hand to her nose, pinching the bridge slightly, "This is way too easy."
With a quick flash of movement Kenzi had snapped the handcuffs around Bo and Tamsin's wrists. "What," Bo slurred slightly before she slipped off her stool taking Tamsin with her, the nearly empty bottle of vodka sloshing over them both before rolling under the table.
"Goodnight Fae," Kenzi snickered before burping and stepping over the two uncpncious women.
Dropping into bed, Kenzi finally opened Dyson's text from earlier in the day. Well, 'text' was a fib, there were now a dozen, a baker's dozen. You can come get them anytime, Wolf-man, Kenzi sent before she rolled over and buried her face in the pillow. She may have been Russian, but even she couldn't drink two fae with healing powers under the table.
"A child of five would understand this. Send someone to fetch a child of five."
-Groucho Marx
A/N: 5/25. That's like a fifth of it done. If you have never heard of Cards Against Humanity, it is exactly what it sounds like, and a lot of fun. Hope you enjoyed the trouble Kenzi is getting into, and the torture she is putting Hale through. Revenge, after all, is a dish best served cold, very, very cold. Lots of love and thanks for the reviews.