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)
22 December, 2013
Kenzi woke when she tried to turn. She was, she soon realized, bundled up like a child on a cold winter's night. She attempted to roll, but that was impossible. It took all her effort to just wiggle her arms free, and just as she managed to do that, Dyson appeared at the bedroom door holding a tray and growling.
"Little help," Kenzi asked as she struggled against the covers.
"No can do," Dyson answered lowly, "I have plans for you."
She tracked his steps across the floor and toward the bed, "That's not ominous or nothing."
He laughed softly, knelt on the bed and settled the tray just over her knees. "Breakfast," he presented before curling his arm under her shoulders and sliding her into more of a sitting position.
"Okay," Kenzi sighed, in an effort to placate Dyson, and reached for the fork and knife only to have Dyson grab her hands and press them back onto the bed. "Alright, teasing isn't nice."
Dyson laughed and settled onto the covers beside Kenzi, "I'm not."
"Right," Kenzi paused, "except you're not letting me eat."
In response, Dyson picked up the fork and cut into the pancakes on the plate, they oozed chocolate, "I'm going to let you eat, Kenz." He lifted the fork from the plate and held it up to her pouting lips, "Open."
With a little glance from the corner of her eyes Kenzi accepted the buttery, chocolaty, deliciousness. Dyson watched Kenzi chew and swallow. His pride swelled when a moan slithered between her lips. She was watching him from beneath her lashes. Kenzi wasn't quite sure what Dyson was up to, but for the moment she wasn't going to complain, okay maybe she was a little. Being tied up wasn't exactly on her list of fun-time activities…okay, maybe it was, but usually it was preceded by things.
After another few bites of pancake and a drink of milk, Kenzi turned her head to face her captor. "So what's the big idea?"
Dyson set the fork down with a little click, "The big idea, is that you're going to stay in bed today and I'm going to keep you company."
"All day," Kenzi asked Dyson curiously.
"All day," he confirmed.
Kenzi shifted as much as she could. Straining her legs to get a little more freedom, "All day, what if I need to go to the bathroom?"
"I'll carry you," Dyson offered easily. "Your feet are not going to touch the floor and you aren't going to do any work."
Kenzi frowned, "Who put you up to this?"
"No one," Dyson assured her, dropping a kiss on her cheek. "I just want to take care of you."
"Right," Kenzi drawled, "but that doesn't mean you have to tie me up."
"Well," Dyson cocked his head to the side, "it doesn't mean I can't."
Kenzi shook her head against the pillow, "So all day we're just going to lay here and do nothing?"
"I thought we might want to talk, maybe cuddle, and do anything else you want to," Dyson suggested.
"So if I had presents to wrap…," Kenzi asked slyly.
Dyson sighed with a grin, "Then I'm wrapping presents."
Maybe being stuck in bed all day wouldn't be so bad. She relaxed a little further into the pillows, letting Dyson continue to feed her. She had to admit he really had a talent with food. Being a chef wouldn't be a stretch for Dyson.
"I guess I don't really have a choice," Kenzi called as Dyson lifted the nearly empty tray from her lap and took it downstairs.
Kenzi arched her back and glanced to the bedside table and saw her phone. Rocking slightly, Kenzi reached for it. She couldn't grasp it, it was just a smidge too far. She tried again only to have her wrist caught by Dyson. He leaned across her and picked up the phone. He held it up, looking at it carefully as he sank down beside her.
"Can I have my phone," Kenzi asked in displeasure.
"Nope," Dyson shook his head, tapping the screen so it lit up.
Kenzi's whole body seemed to inflate before deflating, "Really?"
"Really. So what do you want to talk about," Dyson asked.
"I don't know," Kenzi shrugged. "You're the one who started this."
The tall man rolled onto his side, leaning on his elbow, "Tell me about your childhood."
Kenzi turned her head to watch him, "I was born at home. I grew up wild as any child, running and hiding the grass and the woods."
"How did you come to be here," he pushed.
Kenzi's face hardened slightly, a mask to hide behind, "I was dancing. I was dancing in New York. My father had already passed, my mother came with me, I was only twelve at the time."
"When did you start dancing," Dyson pressed.
"My father used to say that came out dancing, and I charmed god himself into blessing me with such grace," Kenzi smiled faintly.
"He sounds like he loved you a lot."
"He did, he does," Kenzi told him. "He was a good man, he died rescuing some kids from a frozen lake when I was…nine. I got a scholarship to dance and go to school in the states. My mom met my stepdad not too long after. We never really…got along. He hated when I laughed too loud…I left home when I was fifteen, I gave up the ballet and I dyed my hair and I left."
Dyson hadn't known that, he had been well aware that Kenzi had more street smarts than most young women, but he had always figured she had grown up fairly normal. At least for a human.
"Why did you leave home," Dyson asked, curling his hand around hers.
Kenzi blinked slowly, "New York was never home. Home was Russia with my father and my grandparents, with my cousins running in the sunlight. New York was…it wasn't home."
"What about now," he asked curiously, he wanted to know. Needed to.
Kenzi shifted minutely, "I stopped being a lone wolf when I met Bo, pardon the metaphor."
"Pardoned," Dyson kissed her cheek.
"I guess this sort of has become home," Kenzi smiled faintly. "I have Trick as the overbearing but loveable grandfather, Bo and Tamsin as sisters, and Hale as the annoying little brother."
He laughed at the idea of Hale being the younger brother. "And what about me," Dyson asked after a moment.
"What about you," Kenzi asked straight-faced.
Dyson frowned good-naturedly, "What role do I play in this little family."
The dark haired woman frowned in thought, "Well, I always wanted a dog."
His laughter was a rough bark, "A dog?"
"I suppose I could be convinced to upgrade you to boyfriend," Kenzi grinned sharply, always the mischievous girl at heart.
"Mhm," Dyson smiled at the tiny woman, "I'm sure you could be." He ran his fingers lightly through her hair, "Do you ever talk to her, your mom?"
"No."
It was an abrupt answer. Flat. A clear end to that particular avenue of conversation. Dyson let it go. Instead, Dyson asked her about her days on the street.
"Meow Meow, Spring Lace, Heidi Dazzlebrook, and Roxie Sweetthighs were some of the best names I had," Kenzi informed Dyson.
Dyson frowned and spoke slowly, "Those sound oddly like—"
"Stripper names," Kenzi offered.
"A little bit," Dyson agreed.
"They weren't," Kenzi said. "When I wasn't grifting, I danced with another street performer, Tim. We were really good," she reminisced.
Dyson couldn't help but imagine Kenzi a little younger and little less burdened, dancing on a sidewalk, showing her heart and soul to all that watched. "What happened?"
"Tim went missing," Kenzi sighed. "He was my best friend and we kept each other sane."
"Did you ever find out what happened," Dyson asked.
Kenzi shrugged, "No, but I buried him a long time ago. After that I moved around a lot, didn't get attached. Until Bo, until you and Hale and Trick and the whole Fae nonsense."
"Nonsense," Dyson laughed softly. "So all of this is just nonsense?"
Kenzi sniffed lightly, "Most of it. I don't mind the party tricks, they're pretty fun."
"Kitten," Dyson traced her jaw line with his fingertip, "you are absolutely befuddling."
"I try," her shoulders rose and she smiled prettily.
They continued to talk, Dyson mentioning that her pet name of 'Kitten' was actually quite a good fit seeing as her main street name was 'Meow Meow'. Dyson told her of his childhood, growing up roughhousing and learning to fight. The pressure of being from a powerful line, the heartbreak of losing his pack to time and to war, and how much he missed the freedom some days. Dyson told her of little cultural quirks, the need for a man, a wolf-shifter especially, to demonstrate his ability to provide and care for his family. Kenzi had watched him carefully, his eyes hazing over with memories. It was rare to see Dyson lost in his memories, lost in the past he had lost hold of.
After another feeding session, a midmorning snack of fruit, Dyson had traced each vein in Kenzi's arm. She shivered as his blunt nail tripped along her skin. The wolf took an immense amount of pleasure in being able to stimulate her, even on such a small level.
She jerked her arm away from him, she couldn't take much more, her arm was itching, and she didn't think Dyson would take her attempting to scratch her skin off. "I want a bath," Kenzi paused after each word and ending with a gently curving smile.
After a moment's internal debate, Dyson nodded in assent. Kenzi smiled gleefully and moved to tear the covers off only to be restrained lightly. "No," he reminded her. "You are not allowed to lift even a finger, Kitten."
She sighed, and let Dyson carefully unwrap the layers, pulling the last back with a quick flourish and allowing a fresh breeze to caress her bare skin. It was a relief. While being bundled up and warm did bring a sense of comfort, Kenzi had always been a mover. She hated remaining still and quiet. She was born to dance and laugh and to bring joy. Her good mood exploded into white-hot bliss as Dyson slid his arms beneath her and lifted her up from the bed.
He perched her on the edge of the sunken tub as he started the bath. Kenzi watched him drizzle a dark caramel brown liquid in the rising water, bubbles burst forth, foaming and swirling in larger and larger numbers. Bubble bath, she couldn't help but realize with an amazed smile. Water running, Dyson turned to Kenzi and draped a large fluffy grey towel around her shoulders. Gentle motions slipped the straps of her tank top off her shoulder and letting the silk top slip down her belly. A little more choreography had Kenzi half on Dyson's lap her feet dangling in the bubbles.
"Impressive," Kenzi applauded Dyson's ability to keep her covered and modest even while stripping her.
Towel secured around her chest, Kenzi was set into the bath fully. Dyson dragged his fingers through her hair, pulling the dark strands up and into a knot at the top of her head. A kiss pressed to her cheek as Dyson dropped his hand to skim the water.
"This is nice," Kenzi yawned lightly, eyes slipping closed as the warm water and chocolate and vanilla scented bubbles lapped at her skin, rocking her gently.
"Good."
The older man let his hands run along her skin, curling around her ankle and slithering up her leg. A washcloth soon joined Dyson's effort, tracing each millimeter of tender flesh, washing gently. She moaned as the soaked towel loosened from around her. The wolf inhaled sharply as even more skin was exposed. The bubbles concealed most of her skin, but as she shifted with each breath the towel slid further down in the water, eventually dropping away from her skin entirely.
Boldly, Dyson's hand trailed upward, waterlogged washcloth floating just above her skin. Brushing the warm cloth across her shoulders and collarbone, Dyson dipped his hand beneath the water, fingers gliding between her breasts, down her belly and sliding over to cover her hip. When he glanced back up Kenzi's eyes were open, watching his face, eyes dark and breathing heavy.
"Dyson," she whispered huskily, water shifting as she raised one arm to grab at him. It never reached him as h caught it and tucked it back beneath the surface.
"No," he told her.
"If someone were to tell me I had twenty years left, and ask me how I'd like to spend them, I'd reply 'Give me two hours a day of activity, and I'll take the other twenty-two in dreams.'"
- Luis Buñuel quotes
A/N: 22/25. I really rather like this chapter. Even though there was no physical gift, I think that the expression of his affection and Dyson's commitment to Kenzi. Three more chapters to go and I'm sort of hoping I can crack 100 reviews by Christmas. As it is, I'm entirely blown back by the support and love that you all have shown this story and me. Lots of Love, Ta!