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)

14 December, 2013

The first date had gone off without a hitch. Dyson had dropped Kenzi off at home just before midnight with a gentle kiss as a parting gift. Kenzi had been smiling all night long, Dyson had been sweet and charming as ever, but it was a little strange for her to have his attention so fully on her.

They had danced and drank, and Kenzi had, as promised, made the men in the room drool. Hale had tried to steal Kenzi away from Dyson for a quick dance, but Dyson had accidentally tipped Hale's drink back onto the man. Hale had been forced to find a bottle of soda-water to clean the red wine from his jacket. Kenzi had then participated in a drinking competition, taking down Dyson's captain and half of the detectives. What could she say? She had always been determined to succeed in life. For Kenzi, it was like a rite of passage. At least in the sense that she sort of wanted Dyson's colleagues to like her on a personal level, sure they respected her conning skills, but not who she was.

According to Dyson she was a hit. Most of Kenzi's drinking partners had apparently spent much of the early morning with their heads on their desks. Dyson had of course rubbed in the fact that Kenzi was up and about, Kenzi having opened the door that morning to find Dyson holding a box of donuts.

That was how Kenzi had spent her morning-after, curled up on the couch with a box of donuts and the latest hooker killing game. Not only was killing hookers therapeutic, it was actually quite the hangover cure. The donuts didn't hurt either. The delicious sugary drippy-ness. It was really delicious.

"Die," Kenzi gritted out, donut between her teeth and fingers jabbing the buttons harshly.

"Woah," Bo slid onto the couch beside her. "Anger issues, Kenz?"

"Hangover," Kenzi replied. "Donut?"

"Don't mind if I do," replied Bo as she snatched a pink frosted donut from the box and began to lick it. "So what did you and Dyson get up to last night?"

"We went out to a bar, and I got involved in a drinking competition," Kenzi answered vaguely.

"Sounds like fun," Bo smiled, "So the flowers were just coincidental?"

"Okay the flowers were nice," Kenzi shrugged. "I don't know. Is it weird?"

"The flowers," Bo asked.

"Yeah," Kenzi offered.

Bo shrugged, biting into the donut, "I don't think it is. I mean I guess I've just never seen this side of him."

"What do you mean," Kenzi asked.

"He brought you flowers," Bo reminded Kenzi, "you guys hang out and talk, and I'm guessing the donuts are courtesy of him too."

"So," Kenzi defended pausing her game and turning to face Bo. "It's not like he's acting totally weird."

"So what," Bo shook her head, "he clearly likes you and you clearly like him."

"I so don't," Kenzi lied, totally not okay with Bo finding out the truth.

"Kenz," Bo chided, "I see you, as much as you think I'm a little flaky lately, and I have been, I know you."

"No," Kenzi denied, "I don't."

"It's okay," Bo tried again. "You seem happier lately, and I think that has to do with a certain wolf."

"Bo," Kenzi sighed, her good mood quickly evaporating.

"Just," Bo reached out to squeeze Kenzi's hand, "don't think you have to hide anything from me. We're sisters from another mister, nothing, nothing can come between us. Except maybe a really, really hot construction worker."

Kenzi tossed her controller to the side and lunged to hug Bo. "Thanks," she whispered, "you know," Kenzi sat back, "if I had anything I needed to tell you."

"Right," Bo smiled. "Damn this is a good donut. You think you could squeeze another dozen out of him?"

Kenzi giggled, "Maybe if I start doing yoga at the Dal."

"Tamsin would so watch that," Bo snorted. "And then she might help you stretch out."

"That girl has some serious boundary issues," Kenzi informed Bo. "If she wasn't so fun, I might question why we hang out with her."

"Yeah," Bo agreed softly. "Speaking of Tamsin, guess what we got up to last night?"

"What," Kenzi's eyes lit up.

Bo sat back, "I might need some booze to spill every detail, but the highlights involve body shots, honey, and one or two Santa's with some serious packages."

"Uh, you have all the fun," Kenzi pouted, "I once got to hit the back end of a reindeer, trust me the front half was super jelly."

"Tell me this isn't why you want to bone Dyson," Bo choked out, her face reddening.

"Ew, oh ick," Kenzi gagged when she caught Bo's train of thought. "That is just so no!"

"Hey," Bo put up her hands defensively, "you're the one who walked right into that one."

"Fine," Kenzi admitted, "but I don't want to bone wolfy-Dyson."

"I totally believe that," Bo smiled innocently before winking.

Kenzi huffed and sat back on the couch, "Bitch."

Bo rolled her eyes, leaning over and nudging Kenzi's shoulder, "So any plans for tonight?"

"None at the moment," Kenzi shrugged.

Truth or Truth, Kenzi texted Dyson.

He replied quickly, Chocolate or vanilla?

Chocolate, Kenzi answered quickly. Favorite Beatle?

Kenzi could almost hear Dyson laughing, Ringo, he's got charm. Snow or sun?

Both, I grew up loving the cold but running in the sun. Kenzi thought a moment before she sent her question, gloves of mittens?

On you, mittens. It would be cuter, Dyson typed back quickly. Dal for lunch?

Yes, Kenzi set down her phone and went back to her video game for a few more rounds of killing hookers and smacking down pimps.

Kenzi was bundled up for the walk to the Dal, so when she walked through the doors she was forced to stomp off her boots and strip several layers off. Hanging up her jackets, Kenzi walked towards the bar only to change course halfway there. Dyson was leaning against the pool table setting it up, two beers on a nearby table along with two sandwiches.

"Hey," Kenzi smiled up at Dyson, giving him a quick hug. "How was the rest of the morning?"

"Slow," Dyson told her, brushing his lips against the top of her head. "There was a lot of coffee and more than a few doses of Chinese food."

"Yikes," Kenzi chuckled, picking up one of the beers and taking a sip, "yum."

Dyson smirked, "You look chipper."

"It's the miracle of the Kenz," she set her hands on her hips and lifted her chin in a pseudo-heroic pose. "That and I killed a lot of hookers and ate a lot of donuts."

"Very nice," Dyson said as he collected two sticks from the wall, "care for a game?"

Kenzi took the proffered stick, "It is on."

The game proceeded with a lot of not-so subtle flirting, teasing, and attempts at cheating. Kenzi was winning easily, a few smiles, hips swaying, and a few not-so gentle brushing touches, and she was unsettling the detective. The first game was Kenzi's without any possibility of it going in Dyson's favor. The second and third games were much the same. Kenzi wasn't a shark in a pool full of carp without reason. She had learned early and often that you took advantage of what you had and what you could do. While it wasn't strictly nice, what she was doing, it wasn't wrong.

Their sandwiches and beers disappeared, and at the end of the third game, Dyson was frustrated. "How is that possible," he wondered, "You've never beaten me before."

Kenzi shrugged innocently, "Luck?"

"Luck might account for one out of three, but you swept me," Dyson argued.

"Magic," Kenzi tried again.

"Guess again," Dyson frowned as he crossed his arms in stern expression.

Kenzi bit her lip and looked up at Dyson, eyes wide, "I don't know."

With a frown, Dyson stepped forward, "Dinner, your place, tonight."

"Chinese," Kenzi giggled.

"And a rematch," Dyson demanded with a smile.

The rematch Dyson had in mind was something quite different from what Kenzi at first thought. He had arrived with a red bag in hand and a little box filled with takeout containers. Taking the bag from Dyson, Kenzi peeked inside. She let out a sharp laugh.

"You do know I kick but at alcohol related games," Kenzi reminded Dyson.

His mouth twitched upward, "Maybe when playing against humans, but I'm a shifter, we run hotter, stronger, longer, and more efficiently."

"Was that supposed to sound as dirty as it did, or are my hormones flipping out," Kenzi asked dazedly.

Leaning down, Dyson pressed a kiss to Kenzi's lips. "I'm open to both options."

"Bad Dyson," Kenzi scolded and backed across the floor, moving into the kitchen. Spinning around, Kenzi settled the bag on the counter and began to unpack it. It wasn't much work. Ten shot glasses half marked with an 'x' the others with an 'o'. Once they were lined up, Kenzi set the tic-tac-toe board between the lines of glasses.

Dyson had set to work arranging their dinner. For Kenzi a container of general's kung-pao chicken with extra chicken and for Dyson cha siu and roast veggies. "And for our drinking pleasure," Dyson drew out a bottle of really good whiskey.

Kenzi moaned, "This is going to be fun."

"Rules," Dyson told her, "You get blocked, you drink, you put a glass down, you drink, you lose, you drink."

"Sounds good," Kenzi sat down across from Dyson, "with one addition. Winner gets a massage."

"I look forward to my reward," Dyson answered quickly. "So we should start so I can win."

Kenzi laughed and picked up a piece of chicken with her chopsticks, she bit into it with vigor. It was on. If Dyson thought that he was going to win this, he had something coming to him. Kenzi did not lose. Not at games.

There was very little talking as they flipped a coin to see who would go first. The first five games ended in ties, both of them laughing more and eating less as time and the whiskey began to take effect.

A soft hiccup spilled from Kenzi's mouth as she dropped her 'o' glass onto the board. She was beginning to feel a little sluggish, the whiskey beginning to numb her mind. Shaking herself, Kenzi sat back up. It was the sixth game, and she was determined to end this while she was still semi-conscious. Stretching, Kenzi dropped her arms and tugged her shirt down, exposing more of her chest. Then she crossed her legs, and it wasn't her fault if her bare foot ended up tracing Dyson's inseam.

She watched him swallow. She smiled sweetly, leaned forward, and reminded him, "It's your turn."

Dyson's eyes were locked with hers, he tipped back the shot, his eyes drifting down and, at a crucial moment, Dyson placed his glass down one spot over from where he should have. With a quick lick of her lips, Kenzi tipped her next glass back and set it slowly on the board.

"Tic, tac, toe," Kenzi enunciated slowly.

Dyson's eyes snapped down to the board, he laughed under his breath, "You won."

"I did," Kenzi pouted prettily, picking up one more shot and downing it. "Victory is rather sweet."

"You cheated," Dyson accused.

"Did I," Kenzi tilted her head to the side, her voice heavy with false innocence.

"You did," Dyson confirmed, standing and making his way around the table. "I think cheating erases your win."

Kenzi slid off her chair, head tipped back so she could watch Dyson's face. "What are you going to do about it?"

Dyson stepped forward, Kenzi stepping back. He repeated and she retreated. Swiftly Kenzi found her back against the wall, Dyson before her. "I'll think of something."

"Oh," Kenzi panted softly.

Dyson smirked, leaning down and capturing Kenzi's soft lips. He could taste her, she was honey and the heat of alcohol. Her lips parted and Dyson took the opportunity, tilting her head back and pulling her up against him. "Mm," Kenzi shivered against him.

"When I work fourteen hours a day, seven days a week, I get lucky."
-Armand Hammer

A/N: 14/25. Papers to grade, papers to grade, oh well, this decided to wriggle out. It has been a long day, and I need a nap…or just to go to bed. Well, have a good night all!