Heat (3/?)
Title: Heat
Author: Avaritia_90
Spoilers: Food For Thought
Rating: PG-13 (rating will go up)
Word Count: 2,359
Disclaimer: I do not own Lost Girl.
Summary: Dyson/Kenzi. Dyson makes a promise, and keeps it.
[One] [Two]
____________________________________________________________________________________________
Kenzi sleeps for a little more than two hours, and then wakes up in a daze. She remembers her night, the sickness and Dyson and yawns. Just thinking about it all makes her tired again. The clock next to Dyson tells her it's the in between hours of the morning, where infomercials are still playing in a loop and it's hours off until cartoons start playing.
She untangles herself from the sheets and bedding and tip toes over to where Dyson is sleeping on his couch. It's not a big couch, but it fits his frame better than expected. He's in deep sleep, the blanket he was using slipped from him and onto the floor, giving her a rare chance to ogle him without a shirt.
Hey, he's hot, what do you except? Kenzi never signed up to be a nun for a reason.
Dyson is a little more than hot, that she always knew. She had even seen him without clothes more than once (yay wolf transformations!)but this was different. For one, it was her own private show, and two his room had decent lighting.
Her eyes traced the hard lines of his body, his abs and chest -and holy hell, what the fuck was Bo thinking? Lauren was pretty, and even Kenzi could tell her body was good too -but hellllllo, does Lauren have a rockin' six pack and guns like that? Hella no.
Kenzi stares awhile longer, just because she wants to, and it's been longer than she would like to admit since she had herself anything or anyone of her own to ogle at. Being friends with a succubus had it's perks and it's downsides, the biggest being your chances of getting tail was seriously lowered.
Finally she tears her gaze away to wander his place. Her new playground until Doctor L gave her the all clear that is.
Dyson's home is exactly what she expected and not all at the same time. It's a guy's place, that is obvious by the lack of actual design or decoration. It's organized, clean and comfortable, but that's it. It's an open loft space, so everything is just spread out. He actually has a decent amount of square footage, it's just not used. There's a small kitchen, and eating space. The bedroom, bathroom and then the couch and tv but that's it. There's a work out machine in the center of the room, a punching bag in the corner of the kitchen and a motorcycle that's covered in the far corner of the loft. Everything is mixed with everything else.
There are also some boxes near the back, and as much as she wants to snoop, she knows better than to do so...at least while Dyson is home anyways.
She takes a peak into the bathroom and is disappointed by the lack of bathtub. Even though it does explain Dyson's constant usage of their claw-footed bath back home.
Home
The word isn't unfamiliar to Kenzi, but it is strange for it to the same place for more than three months. She's always been a traveler, a wander and on occasion, a hobo of sorts. Home is where she makes it. Home is good friends, or a decent meal. Now, with Bo, it's all those things at once. All the time.
Kenzi wipes at the small amount of tears that form, and is happy to see they are no longer tinted with blood. She crawls back into Dyson's bed and sits atop of all the bedding.
She misses her bed. Her fuzzy pillows, Froggy Pillow and her special cup (she had stolen it from Dennys). She missed the sound of Bo wandering the house or the occasional groan of the house.
She missed home.
She was homesick.
The tears flood now, down her cheeks and drip to the blanket she's holding. She doesn't know why she's acting like this, oh why the sudden realization has thrown her for such a loop; but it has, she's never felt this way before. The first home she ever left behind, the one in Russia, was barely a memory. She had been too young, verging on three, and can't really recall much. Most of her memories are of her father and mother, playing in snow. There are flashes of faces and laughter, someone singing and then nothing. She knows in the end this is because she blocked it. That's how humans cope with tragedy and pain, they block it out and move on. That's what she did, and together her and her mother escaped to States, and then again to Canada.
The home of her mother and step-father wasn't anything she even considered a home. It was his home. They were just lucky enough that he wanted to share it. Kenzi only remembers how much she hated it. Living in fear, constantly feeling the need to hide, to stay out of the way and be quiet. It wasn't a prison, it was worse. At least in prison you could move without being yelled at. At least if you said something wrong, it was you who took the punishment, not your cellmate. Kenzi only remembers the fear of that place, and how when she finally ran away the guilt that nearly killed her inside that she left her mother behind. She did, for all the misery she caused in Kenzi's life, still love her mother. Kenzi had just accepted that her mother had picked her step-father, and Kenzi wasn't going to make her choose sides. She wasn't some pre-teen looking for fight, she was an adult, looking for freedom. So she took it, and she's happy she did, because in the end it lead her to her real home.
Yes, the walls were barely there, and it was an ex-crack shack, but it was home. It was a collection of Bo and Kenzi. It was freedom and happiness, where she could play video games at any volume she liked, and where Bo practiced throwing weapons and even the occasional pizza party.
It was the home she desperately wanted to go back to.
“Kenzi?” Dyson's rough morning voice startles her. He's standing in front of the bed.
“Oh my god. You just gave me a heart attack.” She wipes away the remaining tears and acts like he didn't just catch her crying. Best defense was to deny, deny and deny baby.
“Sorry. Are you okay?” She smiles and nods, but he doesn't buy what she's selling, “I just saw you crying, Kenz, tell me, are you okay? Are you in pain?”
She pouts and falls backwards on to his bed melodramatically. “Don't judge me dude. I was just having a moment.”
He can't help but smile at her antics. It's way too early for his usual gruffness. He pads over to the bed and sits next to her.
Watching as she lifts and arm to cover her eyes, and hides his disappointment. Her eyes are beautiful, and even more so when they are covered in tears that aren't blood.
“A moment?” He repeats.
“I felt homesick, your bed is nice and all, but I like my bed more. It has more fuzzy pillows.”
Dyson's eyebrows hit his hair line, “I'm sorry?”
“Seriously. Is that just a guy thing? Two pillows and that's it? Don't you know numerous pillows of all shapes and sizes give a room a more lavish feel?”
“Kenzi.” He tries to use his best serious voice, but it sort of fails, “You are not weeping because of my lack of useless throw pillows.”
“They are useful, decorative pillow-”
“Kenzi.”
“Ugh. Fine. I told you. I'm homesick. I miss Bo and my bed, and my stuff...and it got me thinking of the last actual home I left and that made me think about other stuff I'd rather NOT talk about and so yes, I got a bit weepy. Happy?”
“I'm practically glowing.”
She removes her arm, stares at him and laughs.
“Weirdo.”
“Could be worse, I could be you, and then where would I be?”
“You would be totally awesome, duh.”
“I think a zoo would be most likely.”
She giggles and pokes him in the side, “This is coming from wolf-boy.”
Dyson stands up and wanders off into the kitchen, where he starts up his coffee maker (one of the few appliances out, other than the microwave and toaster.) and picks up the bags of Kenzi's things that Bo dropped off.
“Bo dropped off some of your things before she left. Maybe they can help chase off that feeling of homesickness.”
Kenzi happily takes the bags and starts rummaging, by the time Dyson has had his first cup of coffee she has already taken everything out. She now sports stripped pj bottoms, a purple and black sweatshirt and bright fuzzy maroon slippers. The counter is filled with her snacks, and judging from it, he's going to have to go shopping if she's going to eat anything actually healthy besides the canned soup Bo bought.
One look at his bed shows she's taken over that too. He are clothes literally flung in all directions, including lace things that he really, really wished weren't. There's also a new additions to his sorely lacking pillow collection. One is a huge pink monster of a pillow that's fuzzy and a another that's small, green and in the shape of smiling frog. Her laptop is charging by the outlet near the tv, where Kenzi is throned, on the couch with her blanket, already starting up her game console.
“You move in fast.”
“Like a cockroach, dude. Wanna play?”
“What's the game?”
“Killer Robot-Hooker.”
“...I think I'll pass.” He smiles into his coffee and lowers himself to sit next to her. He watches silently, if not a bit curiously as she plays. She wander the virtual city with ease, shooting down the robot women of the night with, what he assumed, practiced ease.
“So what's the plan, D-man.” She asks, her eyes glued to the tv screen.
“Well, I'm calling in some vacation days, then while I go to the store and pick up a few things, you are going to stay here and get some actual rest.”
“Boo. I wanna come with!”
“Kenzi, it's grocery shopping, not the local arcade.”
She pauses her game, “Dude, there's a local arcade?”
“The answer remains no.”
“Fine, but the moment you leave, I'm going through your stuff. All of it. Including any and all porn that I might find.”
“I don't have-”
“It's not nice to lie.”
Dyson pours himself a second cup and drinks it down, obviously he's going to need more than the usual amount.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++
The pair of them eventually shower, dress and into his car at a reasonably time. Kenzi is covered head to toe, and layered up against any and all chances of random illnesses. That still doesn't stop Kenzi from slipping on skin-tight jeans and pair of six inch booted heels.
“Don't judge me dude, sick or not, I wanna be stylin'”
“Just get in. And buckle up.”
“Aye, Aye Captain!”
He decides to stop by the station first, inform Hale and his boss he's taking off a few days, a little less than a week at most. He has to sign a few things, and to his surprise Kenzi is actually hesitant to follow him into the station.
“Sorry, you know what they say, once a thief always a thief. I get sorta weirded out by all the cops.”
He smiles and gently pulls her inside, “You'll be fine. You're with me.”
-and he means that in more ways than she fully understands. She's probably already forgotten the promise she made him make to stay by her side, or brushed it off, but his loyalty is far deeper than that, and the magic bounded to it even more so. Part of him knows that its absurd to give such a thing to a human, but he knows that he did not make a mistake in doing so.
Hale is no where to be seen, and most of the cops present are barely awake enough to even notice them. He gathers the papers for his leave and starts filling them out as Kenzi perches herself on the edge of his desk and peers over his shoulder.
“I knnnnow your social sercuirty number noooow.” She sing-songs at him.
“You know one of them.”
“Ooo you have more than one? How underground. I like it.”
“Whose the girl?” A co-worker asks, Phil. “Does she need to be questioned?”
“Wow, Hi. Do I look like a criminal, dude?” Kenzi snaps, obviously looking to pick a fight.
“I dunno, you don't exactly look old enough for actual jail, shouldn't you be in the custody of your parents or juvi right now?”
“Phil. This is my friend, Kenzi. I'm just filing out some paper work for leave.” Dyson explains as even toned as possible. He doesn't want to offend either, but both are known to have slight tempers so he knows there's little he can do.
“You make a habit of making friends with teenagers?” Phil jokes, its an obvious ploy to both offend Dyson and Kenzi all in one go.
“First off, Doctor Phil-lameo, I'm over the legal drinking age so shut it. Second, -”She never gets to finish what was probably going to be a threat, because Dyson clamps his hand over her mouth and tugs her off his desk. She struggles and makes vain attempts to slither out from his hold, but in the end conceds that maybe threatening a police officer in the middle of his place of work was probably not the brightest idea she's ever had.
“Lay off Phil or else.” Dyson growls, “My paper work is on my desk, if you need me, call Hale.”
He then all but lifts Kenzi up and out of the station without another word to anyone.
....To Be Continued....
Author: Avaritia_90
Spoilers: Food For Thought
Rating: PG-13 (rating will go up)
Word Count: 2,359
Disclaimer: I do not own Lost Girl.
Summary: Dyson/Kenzi. Dyson makes a promise, and keeps it.
[One] [Two]
____________________________________________________________________________________________
Kenzi sleeps for a little more than two hours, and then wakes up in a daze. She remembers her night, the sickness and Dyson and yawns. Just thinking about it all makes her tired again. The clock next to Dyson tells her it's the in between hours of the morning, where infomercials are still playing in a loop and it's hours off until cartoons start playing.
She untangles herself from the sheets and bedding and tip toes over to where Dyson is sleeping on his couch. It's not a big couch, but it fits his frame better than expected. He's in deep sleep, the blanket he was using slipped from him and onto the floor, giving her a rare chance to ogle him without a shirt.
Hey, he's hot, what do you except? Kenzi never signed up to be a nun for a reason.
Dyson is a little more than hot, that she always knew. She had even seen him without clothes more than once (yay wolf transformations!)but this was different. For one, it was her own private show, and two his room had decent lighting.
Her eyes traced the hard lines of his body, his abs and chest -and holy hell, what the fuck was Bo thinking? Lauren was pretty, and even Kenzi could tell her body was good too -but hellllllo, does Lauren have a rockin' six pack and guns like that? Hella no.
Kenzi stares awhile longer, just because she wants to, and it's been longer than she would like to admit since she had herself anything or anyone of her own to ogle at. Being friends with a succubus had it's perks and it's downsides, the biggest being your chances of getting tail was seriously lowered.
Finally she tears her gaze away to wander his place. Her new playground until Doctor L gave her the all clear that is.
Dyson's home is exactly what she expected and not all at the same time. It's a guy's place, that is obvious by the lack of actual design or decoration. It's organized, clean and comfortable, but that's it. It's an open loft space, so everything is just spread out. He actually has a decent amount of square footage, it's just not used. There's a small kitchen, and eating space. The bedroom, bathroom and then the couch and tv but that's it. There's a work out machine in the center of the room, a punching bag in the corner of the kitchen and a motorcycle that's covered in the far corner of the loft. Everything is mixed with everything else.
There are also some boxes near the back, and as much as she wants to snoop, she knows better than to do so...at least while Dyson is home anyways.
She takes a peak into the bathroom and is disappointed by the lack of bathtub. Even though it does explain Dyson's constant usage of their claw-footed bath back home.
Home
The word isn't unfamiliar to Kenzi, but it is strange for it to the same place for more than three months. She's always been a traveler, a wander and on occasion, a hobo of sorts. Home is where she makes it. Home is good friends, or a decent meal. Now, with Bo, it's all those things at once. All the time.
Kenzi wipes at the small amount of tears that form, and is happy to see they are no longer tinted with blood. She crawls back into Dyson's bed and sits atop of all the bedding.
She misses her bed. Her fuzzy pillows, Froggy Pillow and her special cup (she had stolen it from Dennys). She missed the sound of Bo wandering the house or the occasional groan of the house.
She missed home.
She was homesick.
The tears flood now, down her cheeks and drip to the blanket she's holding. She doesn't know why she's acting like this, oh why the sudden realization has thrown her for such a loop; but it has, she's never felt this way before. The first home she ever left behind, the one in Russia, was barely a memory. She had been too young, verging on three, and can't really recall much. Most of her memories are of her father and mother, playing in snow. There are flashes of faces and laughter, someone singing and then nothing. She knows in the end this is because she blocked it. That's how humans cope with tragedy and pain, they block it out and move on. That's what she did, and together her and her mother escaped to States, and then again to Canada.
The home of her mother and step-father wasn't anything she even considered a home. It was his home. They were just lucky enough that he wanted to share it. Kenzi only remembers how much she hated it. Living in fear, constantly feeling the need to hide, to stay out of the way and be quiet. It wasn't a prison, it was worse. At least in prison you could move without being yelled at. At least if you said something wrong, it was you who took the punishment, not your cellmate. Kenzi only remembers the fear of that place, and how when she finally ran away the guilt that nearly killed her inside that she left her mother behind. She did, for all the misery she caused in Kenzi's life, still love her mother. Kenzi had just accepted that her mother had picked her step-father, and Kenzi wasn't going to make her choose sides. She wasn't some pre-teen looking for fight, she was an adult, looking for freedom. So she took it, and she's happy she did, because in the end it lead her to her real home.
Yes, the walls were barely there, and it was an ex-crack shack, but it was home. It was a collection of Bo and Kenzi. It was freedom and happiness, where she could play video games at any volume she liked, and where Bo practiced throwing weapons and even the occasional pizza party.
It was the home she desperately wanted to go back to.
“Kenzi?” Dyson's rough morning voice startles her. He's standing in front of the bed.
“Oh my god. You just gave me a heart attack.” She wipes away the remaining tears and acts like he didn't just catch her crying. Best defense was to deny, deny and deny baby.
“Sorry. Are you okay?” She smiles and nods, but he doesn't buy what she's selling, “I just saw you crying, Kenz, tell me, are you okay? Are you in pain?”
She pouts and falls backwards on to his bed melodramatically. “Don't judge me dude. I was just having a moment.”
He can't help but smile at her antics. It's way too early for his usual gruffness. He pads over to the bed and sits next to her.
Watching as she lifts and arm to cover her eyes, and hides his disappointment. Her eyes are beautiful, and even more so when they are covered in tears that aren't blood.
“A moment?” He repeats.
“I felt homesick, your bed is nice and all, but I like my bed more. It has more fuzzy pillows.”
Dyson's eyebrows hit his hair line, “I'm sorry?”
“Seriously. Is that just a guy thing? Two pillows and that's it? Don't you know numerous pillows of all shapes and sizes give a room a more lavish feel?”
“Kenzi.” He tries to use his best serious voice, but it sort of fails, “You are not weeping because of my lack of useless throw pillows.”
“They are useful, decorative pillow-”
“Kenzi.”
“Ugh. Fine. I told you. I'm homesick. I miss Bo and my bed, and my stuff...and it got me thinking of the last actual home I left and that made me think about other stuff I'd rather NOT talk about and so yes, I got a bit weepy. Happy?”
“I'm practically glowing.”
She removes her arm, stares at him and laughs.
“Weirdo.”
“Could be worse, I could be you, and then where would I be?”
“You would be totally awesome, duh.”
“I think a zoo would be most likely.”
She giggles and pokes him in the side, “This is coming from wolf-boy.”
Dyson stands up and wanders off into the kitchen, where he starts up his coffee maker (one of the few appliances out, other than the microwave and toaster.) and picks up the bags of Kenzi's things that Bo dropped off.
“Bo dropped off some of your things before she left. Maybe they can help chase off that feeling of homesickness.”
Kenzi happily takes the bags and starts rummaging, by the time Dyson has had his first cup of coffee she has already taken everything out. She now sports stripped pj bottoms, a purple and black sweatshirt and bright fuzzy maroon slippers. The counter is filled with her snacks, and judging from it, he's going to have to go shopping if she's going to eat anything actually healthy besides the canned soup Bo bought.
One look at his bed shows she's taken over that too. He are clothes literally flung in all directions, including lace things that he really, really wished weren't. There's also a new additions to his sorely lacking pillow collection. One is a huge pink monster of a pillow that's fuzzy and a another that's small, green and in the shape of smiling frog. Her laptop is charging by the outlet near the tv, where Kenzi is throned, on the couch with her blanket, already starting up her game console.
“You move in fast.”
“Like a cockroach, dude. Wanna play?”
“What's the game?”
“Killer Robot-Hooker.”
“...I think I'll pass.” He smiles into his coffee and lowers himself to sit next to her. He watches silently, if not a bit curiously as she plays. She wander the virtual city with ease, shooting down the robot women of the night with, what he assumed, practiced ease.
“So what's the plan, D-man.” She asks, her eyes glued to the tv screen.
“Well, I'm calling in some vacation days, then while I go to the store and pick up a few things, you are going to stay here and get some actual rest.”
“Boo. I wanna come with!”
“Kenzi, it's grocery shopping, not the local arcade.”
She pauses her game, “Dude, there's a local arcade?”
“The answer remains no.”
“Fine, but the moment you leave, I'm going through your stuff. All of it. Including any and all porn that I might find.”
“I don't have-”
“It's not nice to lie.”
Dyson pours himself a second cup and drinks it down, obviously he's going to need more than the usual amount.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++
The pair of them eventually shower, dress and into his car at a reasonably time. Kenzi is covered head to toe, and layered up against any and all chances of random illnesses. That still doesn't stop Kenzi from slipping on skin-tight jeans and pair of six inch booted heels.
“Don't judge me dude, sick or not, I wanna be stylin'”
“Just get in. And buckle up.”
“Aye, Aye Captain!”
He decides to stop by the station first, inform Hale and his boss he's taking off a few days, a little less than a week at most. He has to sign a few things, and to his surprise Kenzi is actually hesitant to follow him into the station.
“Sorry, you know what they say, once a thief always a thief. I get sorta weirded out by all the cops.”
He smiles and gently pulls her inside, “You'll be fine. You're with me.”
-and he means that in more ways than she fully understands. She's probably already forgotten the promise she made him make to stay by her side, or brushed it off, but his loyalty is far deeper than that, and the magic bounded to it even more so. Part of him knows that its absurd to give such a thing to a human, but he knows that he did not make a mistake in doing so.
Hale is no where to be seen, and most of the cops present are barely awake enough to even notice them. He gathers the papers for his leave and starts filling them out as Kenzi perches herself on the edge of his desk and peers over his shoulder.
“I knnnnow your social sercuirty number noooow.” She sing-songs at him.
“You know one of them.”
“Ooo you have more than one? How underground. I like it.”
“Whose the girl?” A co-worker asks, Phil. “Does she need to be questioned?”
“Wow, Hi. Do I look like a criminal, dude?” Kenzi snaps, obviously looking to pick a fight.
“I dunno, you don't exactly look old enough for actual jail, shouldn't you be in the custody of your parents or juvi right now?”
“Phil. This is my friend, Kenzi. I'm just filing out some paper work for leave.” Dyson explains as even toned as possible. He doesn't want to offend either, but both are known to have slight tempers so he knows there's little he can do.
“You make a habit of making friends with teenagers?” Phil jokes, its an obvious ploy to both offend Dyson and Kenzi all in one go.
“First off, Doctor Phil-lameo, I'm over the legal drinking age so shut it. Second, -”She never gets to finish what was probably going to be a threat, because Dyson clamps his hand over her mouth and tugs her off his desk. She struggles and makes vain attempts to slither out from his hold, but in the end conceds that maybe threatening a police officer in the middle of his place of work was probably not the brightest idea she's ever had.
“Lay off Phil or else.” Dyson growls, “My paper work is on my desk, if you need me, call Hale.”
He then all but lifts Kenzi up and out of the station without another word to anyone.
....To Be Continued....