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) I also do not own the song, credit due to The Beatles.

13 Friday, 2013

Frowning at her reflection, Kenzi tugged at her hair, tucking stray pieces here and there, and pinning down the truly stubborn bits. Kenzi had a talent for dressing up, it came from being the odd kid out. She had learned early on how to blend in, and how to stand out. Horsing around with her male cousins had helped her learn to blend with the regular folks, and her grandmother had encouraged her to dance and comport herself as a lady. Those were the things that Kenzi had taken and built her many personas out of.

Hair braided and twisted back at the nape of her neck, Kenzi settled a small poinsettia flower off the side of the bundle of hair. It was nearly five, and Dyson had told her quite clearly he would be taking her to dinner before the party, so Kenzi was putting the final touches on her outfit. She was wrapped in a towel, the dress she had been saving for a special occasion or a special con was hanging from her closet door. Leaning forward, Kenzi applied a layer of mascara, sweeping it on quickly and smoothly. From there she added a quick cat-eye, a light layer of smoky gray eye-shadow, a soft pink lipstick, and a little blush to highlight her cheekbones.

"Kenzi, Dyson's here," Bo shouted through the clubhouse, "and I'm headed to Tamsin's."

"Okay, have fun, Bo," Kenzi called back.

She heard the door slam, and then there was a knock on her door. Rising, Kenzi retucked her towel, making doubly sure it was in place. Twisting the creaky knob, Kenzi opened the door to find Dyson with flowers and coffee cup with a straw stuck in it. With a exhale of a laugh, Kenzi took the extended flowers and then the cup.

"You look lovely," Dyson told her, he himself dressed in slacks and a deep navy dress shirt, the collar unbuttoned to expose tanned skin.

Kenzi quirked a fine brow, "I'm not dressed."

"Oh," Dyson smiled, his mouth twisting upwards, "I am quite aware of that fact."

Bending slightly, Dyson planted a quick kiss on her cheek before straightening. "Scamp," Kenzi scolded him. "And for that comment, I'm going to make you wait while I finish getting ready."

Dyson's mouth dropped a little, the smile eradicated as Kenzi stepped back and kicked the door shut with a quick wink.

"You could just go like that," Dyson informed her through the door. "I'm certain there wouldn't be a single complaint."

"Yeah," Kenzi returned as she dropped the towel, "I'm sure that going to a precinct party in a towel wouldn't get me tossed in a cell for public indecency."

"I had to give it a try," Dyson shrugged, leaning against the door.

Setting her flowers on the dresser top, she took a sip of the hot beverage. She giggled as she tasted the salt, the caramel, and the chocolate. If that wasn't enough, the straw, she noticed was heart shaped. It was very cute. It didn't take her long to suck the last of the sweet and salty drink.

Kenzi slipped into her dress, it fit her smoothly, fitting each and every curve, clinging to her bare skin. The white fabric rested a scant two inches above her knees, and her curves were silhouetted by an intricate black lace pattern. Her toes were slipped into a pair of delicate black lace stilettos. With one final brush down, Kenzi twisted her head to check her appearance in the mirror, her neck stretched gracefully.

In short, quiet, steps, Kenzi moved across her room, picking up her black clutch and opening the door. She smiled as she saw Dyson perched on the back of the couch, "Well?"

His head twisted to catch her. He smiled as he stood, "Beautiful."

Kenzi felt her cheeks heat slightly, "You're not so bad yourself."

"I do try to impress on a first date," Dyson told Kenzi, coming face to face with her.

The hint of a blush became a full blown fire in her face, "Date!"

"Yes," Dyson confirmed. "I think that it is far past time that I asked you on a real date."

"A real date," Kenzi frowned, her face marred only slightly by her confused expression.

Dyson nodded, "Yes. It has been a long time coming. I'm tired of playing coy. I like you Kenzi, more than I've ever liked anyone in my life, and that's a very long time."

The woman in question could only blink slowly.

Dyson reached for her, cupping her shoulders gently, "I want this, Kenzi. I want you."

Each breath rattled in her lungs, her heart beating roughly against her ribcage. "I…I," words failed her, so Kenzi simply stepped forward, slipping her hand at the nape of his neck and pulling him down so she could press her lips against his.

It was a simple kiss, lips pressed to lips, heat spreading across the tenuous connection. Kenzi's eyes fluttered closed and she let Dyson drag her closer, his arms wrapped around her, pulling and pressing her against him. When at last they parted, Kenzi was starry eyed, gazing up at Dyson, words still not flowing.

"Is that a yes," Dyson asked, not ready to relinquish his hold on her.

A nod was all he got as an answer. She was blushing, her cheeks rosy like she had been in the cold too long. He smiled, and because he smiled, she smiled, it was catching really. All the tension of the last few weeks draining out of her, leaving her light headed and light hearted.

"So where are you taking me for dinner," Kenzi asked.

Dyson stepped back, releasing Kenzi at last, "It's a surprise. Coat first, and then we'll go."

"Meanie," Kenzi pouted, as she picked her coat up off the armchair.

It was just a simple black peacoat. Dyson helped her slide into it, and took the liberty of buttoning it up from bottom to top. When finished, Dyson extended his right arm to Kenzi so he might escort her. With a smile and swirl of her coat, Kenzi slid her arm around his and they set out with a jaunt in their steps.

The restaurant was tucked away down a dark lane, a speakeasy turned restaurant. It was very intimate and rustic. They were tucked into a corner at a little table, a candle melting on its wine bottle holder.

"How is your surprise," Dyson asked, watching the candlelight flicker over Kenzi's face.

She smiled, "Delicious." Her statement was of course followed by her tongue dragging across her lower lip, catching any stray juice from her filet.

"Good," Dyson sat back in his chair, content, for the moment just to watch Kenzi enjoy herself.

"How long," she asked suddenly, fork left to rest against her plate.

"How long what," Dyson asked.

Kenzi sighed, "How long has 'this' been coming."

"Almost since the first time we met," Dyson spoke as honestly as he could. "I didn't know how deeply I cared for you, but I certainly felt something from that moment."

"Really, but I had just snuck into a sacred ceremony," Kenzi reminded him.

"Well," Dyson smiled, "Maybe I got a few glimpses before that, the video, your scent in the elevator, the store, the street."

"Huh," Kenzi mimicked Dyson's posture, leaning back in her chair. "But...what about everything?"

Despite the ambiguity in her statement, Dyson knew exactly what she was referring to. "Trick asked me to watch out for Bo, and I agreed, I just didn't expect things to turn out the way they did," Dyson tried to explain. "I care for her, and I lost myself."

"Why now," Kenzi tried to process everything.

"I don't know, I just…it felt right," Dyson answered.

Kenzi nodded, "Okay."

"Is that everything you want to know," Dyson asked softly, ready for the worst now.

"For now," Kenzi told him. Silence fell, it was tense, neither quite sure how to move forward. Kenzi, however, pushed forward anyway, "So, legs, butt, or boobs?"

Dyson coughed, "What?"

"Which is your favorite, of mine of course," Kenzi prompted.

Dyson's smile became muddled with a frown, "I like everything, feet, hips, belly, arms, neck, nose…"

"Cheeky," Kenzi told him smartly.

"Those too, I like them," Dyson smirked, leaning forward and grasping her hand.

Kenzi laughed teeth flashing as she laced her fingers with Dyson's. "This is really nice."

Dyson agreed easily before he frowned, "I think you dancing on my kitchen counter is nice."

The blush returned full force, "Oh god!"

"I really enjoyed the show," Dyson continued. "You're very flexible."

"I'm never doing that again," Kenzi exclaimed, her free hand rose to cover her eyes.

Dyson squeezed her hand, causing Kenzi to drop her hand so she could see him, "I'm afraid I'll have to forbid that."

It was said with such seriousness that Kenzi couldn't keep a straight face. Her leg bounced beneath the table in laughter, "Dyson!"

A local bar had been closed for the night for the precinct holiday party, it was warm and the music was playing softly. Dyson held the door open for Kenzi ever the gentleman. She smiled, head slightly lowered as she walked into the bar. They were met, almost immediately, with the sight of Hale flirting blatantly and a little crudely with a leggy brunette.

"Is that the new lamb he's chasing," Kenzi whispered back to Dyson.

Dyson shrugged and helped Kenzi out of her coat, "He said he was bringing a friend of a friend. So I would say yes."

"And the woman playing with the knife and glaring at him," Kenzi tipped her head in the direction of the bar, "that would be the receptionist he totally ticked off by wham-bam-not-so-much-with-the-thank-you-ma'am?"

"You do have a way with words," Dyson whispered in her ear. "So, ready to go wow the crowd?"

"Dyson, sweetie," Kenzi purred, "have you seen me in this dress?"

Dyson took another gander, his eyes drifting up from her feet, "I most certainly have, and I see your point."

"Good," Kenzi took his arm.

"Coincidentally," the shifter muttered, "I also see your first victim."

"Oh," Kenzi asked.

"The receptionist, she tried to hit on me," Dyson informed Kenzi as he began to steer her through the crowd of cops and other office staff.

"Oh really," Kenzi asked darkly, leaning into Dyson's body, "lead the way."

Sidling up to the bar, Dyson signaled the bartender before letting his gaze drift to the woman next to him: the receptionist.

"Detective," she breathed his name, her shoulders falling back and her way too low cut dress stretched dangerously against straining flesh.

"…uh," Dyson faked confusion.

"Nikki," she reminded him.

"Right," Dyson smiled, "Nikki, this is my girlfriend, Kenzi." He stepped back a tad so that he could curl his arm around Kenzi.

The smile on the woman's face faltered, "Girlfriend?"

Dyson nodded, bending to kiss Kenzi's cheek, "Yeah, she's brilliant."

"It's nice to meet you," Kenzi offered sweetly. "What do you do at the station?"

Nikki fixed her smile, forcing it a little, "I'm the receptionist, and everyone loves me." Kenzi had to elbow Dyson when she felt him begin to laugh, turning it to a cough. "And what do you do, Kinzi?"

"It's Kenzi," the Russian corrected lightly, "My partner and I run a private detective firm."

"Oh," Nikki muttered.

"Kenzi is really something, I don't know how I lived my life without her," Dyson said honestly, not having to play it up. Kenzi smiled up at Dyson as Nikki's smile became an angry grimace. A new song started to play, it was familiar, "Come on," Dyson urged Kenzi to follow him onto the dance floor.

With a soft happy sigh, Kenzi allowed Dyson to spin her lightly. He drew her close, one hand splayed across her back, the other holding hers to his chest. "Oh please, say to me, you'll let me be your man, and please, say to me, you'll let me hold your hand," Dyson sang softly as they swayed. The party disappeared around them, the world shrinking to just the pair of them.

"When I was thirteen I only wanted to be a drummer."
-Ringo Starr

A/N: 13/25. Today happened to be Friday the 13th, I had a shit day. I'm so happy it is Friday. I am physically and emotionally exhausted, but I'm powering through. On to happier things, we finally have some Denzi love! Thanks for all the lovely reviews, lots of love to you all!