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30 October 2015 @ 03:12 pm
Lost Girl fanfiction: Temporary Fix (4/6)  
Title: Temporary Fix (4/6)
Author: chinesebakery
Characters: Dyson/Kenzi
Summary: During Dyson's darkest hours, Kenzi is determined to show him he can count on her. And not only because she's been harboring a major crush on him. Season 2 story. Dyson/Kenzi with mentions of Bo/Dyson, Bo/Lauren, Bo/Ryan.
Rating: Teen
Length: 1,600
A/N: Many thanks to hotladykisses for beta-reading.

Previously | IV. It itches

For a professional con woman, Kenzi was terrible at keeping secrets. Always had been. Lying through her teeth to a mark was one thing, but she wasn't wired to keep anything from Bo. Which was unfortunate, given her current predicament. Breakfast that morning was a tense and uncomfortable affair.

"What bug bit your ass last night?" Bo finally asked, irritated. "First you take off like you're on fire, again, and now you're all… squirmy."

"I can assure you no one bit my ass."

"Well, that's a comfort."

"It's nothing, I'm just, you know. Traumatized. By the Cherufe. Close call and all. Very scary stuff," Kenzi said around a mouthful of toast.

"Oh, Kenz, I'm sorry." Bo sighed, grabbing her friend's hand. "I didn't mean to be a bitch. Do you want to talk about it?"

"No need. I'm okay, really. A little spooked, is all."

"But fortunately, still uncooked," she grinned. "You would tell me if it was more than that, right?"

"Of course. Rule n°1 in the Best Friends Forever manual. And you know how seriously I take rules."

"Okay," Bo sighed, looking unconvinced. "Are you sure there's nothing else going on? Maybe we need a girls night in. It's been forever since we've had one..."

"...what with all that super-villain vanquishing going on," Kenzi supplied. "Don't worry, Bo-Bo. Go save the world. I'm fine."


***


"There you are," Dyson said grimly as he sat beside her at the bar.

It had been mere hours since she had left his bed, not even a full day, a fact she was acutely aware of. Since the very morning, she had been craving a stiff drink. None of the meager sidekick tasks she'd accomplished had taken her minds off the issue at hand.

As much as she wanted to believe that the previous night had been a slip – a one-time slip – his presence troubled her. From the moment she fled his loft, she had been assailed with flashes of the previous night, memories that made her cheeks burn with both pleasure and shame.

"You sure seemed to be in a hurry this morning. Did you suddenly remember leaving the oven on?"

"Worse. I was sensing a bad hair day coming. Wouldn't want to burden you with that."

He made a show of surveying her perfectly arranged locks and found not a hair out of place, as usual.

"Dreadful. Thank you for sparing me the horror."

"Hey, you know me. Always looking out for a friend."

"Friend, uh?" Dyson raised a dramatic eyebrow, amusement dancing in his eyes. "Is this a subtle way of letting me down easy?"

"Oh puhlease," she scoffed. "You know I don't do subtle."

"How could you? You're only human."

"Hey, that's racist! And don't even think about telling me some of your best friends are humans."

"Well, I wouldn't say 'best friends'. 'Smallest' would be more accurate. 'Most aggravating', maybe."

A current passed between them as they grinned at each other, something like a bond that went undeniably beyond friendship and demanded recognition.

"Oh, no," she exclaimed. "No, no, no, no. Don't even."

"At the risk of sounding like a dick, that's not what I remember you saying last night."

"Look, I understand," she said, resting a placating hand on his knee. "Now you've tasted the special magic that is The Kenz, you're craving for more. It's only natural. No one could blame you, really. But there's not going to be an encore. My best pal wouldn't approve, not to mention that you're…"

"Damaged goods?"

"I favor the terms 'emotionally unavailable'. It's classier, you see."

"Alright," he conceded. "And yet, not a problem for what I have in mind."

"Dyson," she whined, her head falling backwards. "This is such a bad idea."

He gave her a moment, searching her face for a genuine reaction beyond her usual dramatics.

"Tell me you don't want to and I'll leave it alone," he said, serious again. "If you're not interested, I'll never mention it again. I promise. All you have to do is mean it."

"I... don't want to?"

“You realize thwarting liars is in my job description, right?”

Kenzi shrugged, emptying her drink. “And in my line of work, being a little creative with the truth is kind of a requisite.”

“Do you really regret what happened?” he asked, suddenly concerned.

“I should.”

“That's not what I asked.”

"I… need another drink."


***


"I don't regret it," Kenzi admitted after downing her shot in silence. She shrugged with fake casualness, carefully choosing her non-committing words. "It wasn't an unpleasant experience."

"Thank you," he chuckled. "You're too kind."

"You know what I mean."

"Do I?"

"I may not have sexytime superpowers but don't you dare pretend I didn't rock your world, too."

"I won't deny it was… an unexpectedly fine night."

"Unexpectedly!?" She scoffed, barely refraining from elbowing his ribs.

He grinned at the magnitude of her outrage and she couldn't help but do the same, instantly disarmed by the warmth of his smile. Her eyes trailed down his face to rest on his mouth. Uh oh.

When their gazes met again, his face had grown tense and eager, but he remained perfectly still. Whatever happened next was her move to make. Of its own accord, her face inched closer to his. There it was again, just a breath away. The thrill of succumbing to what she shouldn't want, but desperately did.

She drew closer still to murmur to his ear, "Not here."


***


The moment the door closed on the two of them, they were all over each other. Hungry kisses that went on forever, roaming hands, his beard rough against the delicate skin of her neck.

He was searching blindly for the hem of her miniskirt, pulling at her fishnet tights until they ripped so he could feel her skin. Her breath caught.

She felt more drunk that she was. The last time she had been at his place – a whole twenty hours ago – she had been bundled up in an evening dress and debutante updo that allowed her to feel like she was play-acting somehow. Tonight she was just regular old Kenzi, hampered with a stupid itch that demanded scratching.

"Bed," she breathed against his lips, her wits evading her. "Now."

When he bent down to catch her legs and carry her, she recoiled.

"Hey," she grumbled, miffed. "I may be flexible but I'm not a rag doll."

The last thing she wanted to feel was helpless, overwhelmed by his strength. She was more than aware that he was bigger, tougher, older. Fae. The power balance between them was all messed up. Maybe some day she and the Doc should get helplessly drunk and dish about it.

They staggered around the loft, still entwined and reluctant to break their searing, wet kisses, until the back of her knees hit the edge of the mattress. He pulled her down with him.

It was different than their previous encounter, more intimate. She wasn't even mad at him, for a change. She pushed him down and straddled him, hoping to feel more in control, only to find herself enthralled once more.

She tried to make the most of it, to memorize everything she might want to remember later, the scent of his skin, the feel of his spectacular torso, the sound of his voice muffled in her neck. Just in case.


***


Kenzi waited for Dyson’s breathing to slow down in slumber to gawk at him the way she longed to. With his eyes closed and his features relaxed, his pretty face didn't seem so haunted. He looked so normal. Harmless.

What would he be if he wasn't a wolf? With a personality as volatile as his, polite society would be a hard fit. Yet he had surprised her with his ease to maneuver in crummy fae politics. Still, no investment banking for you, furball.

Some sense of masochistic curiosity had her wondering about he and a certain succubus. She had heard them often enough to know things had been pretty wild between them. Did he ever think about Bo when he was with her? It wouldn't be fair, now, would it? How could she possibly compare to Bo's mojo? Ugh. Time to jump on a different train of thoughts.

"I'm still awake, you know?"

"Can't be," she informed him. "I exhausted you."

"You sure about that?" He pulled her against him until their entire bodies touched.

"Interesting," she said, pushing her hips against his. "You know, they should sell powdered fae to middle-aged humans. Would make a fortune."


***


When Kenzi woke up, early morning light was shining through the dirty windows of the loft, and a delectable coffee scent was floating around the room.

Dyson was already dressed and seemingly ready to go.

"In a hurry?" she yawned.

"The Ash wants me. Something about an Under Fae that needs interrogating."

"Playing bad cop this early in the morning? Tough gig."

"It's what I do."

Dyson went to sit beside her on the bed, a smoking coffee mug in his hand. She seized it with a grateful smile. He watched her silently for a minute and she wondered if it was as strange for him as it was for her, having her naked and languid, sipping coffee in his bed.

"You're gonna be okay to go home?"

"Yes, Daddy."

"Now you're just trying to turn me on," he smirked as Kenzi swatted his shoulder.

I could get used to this, she thought, and immediately regretted it.

The next moment, she felt a sudden apprehension she couldn't explain to herself.

"That Under Fae business, it's not dangerous, right?"

"Don't worry," he said. He seemed to hesitate for a minute before leaning to kiss her temple. "Just another day at the office."

"Right, except it never is with you people. Be careful, okay? I have a weird feeling about today."
 
As she watched him leave, the sentiment of vague alarm rapidly grew, building to the point she considered sharing it with her best friend and mystery-solving partner. If only she could.

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chinesebakery: LG- Bo smilechinesebakery on October 31st, 2015 09:10 am (UTC)
Thanks for reviewing again. Glad you liked this chapter, I had a lot of fun writing it!