Our Lost Girl obsession is going strong! Be sure to check out all of Kiersten Krum’s recaps, from Season 1 up to the most recent Season 2 episode aired on SyFy (episode 1, episode 2, episode 3, episode 4, episode 5, and episode 6). All caught up? Good. And now, on to the the recap for last night’s episode, 2.07, “Fae Gone Wild."
Spoiler Policy: Please remember that there is a strong NO SPOILERS policy for any and all comments. We are ONLY DISCUSSING episodes of Lost Girl that have ALREADY AIRED IN THE UNITED STATES. Be kind and respectful by not ruining it for those who have yet to watch all of Season 2. Thanks!
At Hilton Hovel (drink! We’re startin’ early tonight!), Kenzi and Bo face each other from either ends of the couch, The Morrigan’s mysterious gift box between them. Kenzi orders Bo to open it and Bo assures her she’s going to. Kenzi: “You’d better.” There’s a pause as Bo tentatively reaches for the ribbon, but she breaks and says she can’t. “Come on,” Kenzi moans, shoving it toward her. “Grow a pair!” Bo: “It could be a trap!” She suggests it could hold DNA unscrambling-toxins or plague-carrying locusts equivalent. “Or,” Kenzi points out the obvious, not without sympathy, “It could send Lauren into the arms of her secret girlfriend.” “Same dif,” Bo pouts, sadly. She decides it’s not really hers to open anyway and Kenzi agrees, suggesting that they should just get rid of it altogether, “set it on fire, feed it to a troll, whatever.” Bo wrestles the box back from her.
“That would be underhanded and selfish,” she decides unhappily. “None of things you are, my darling,” Kenzi soothes. “I could be those things,” Bo asserts, plaintively knowing she can’t and wishing it weren’t so. “Oh,” Kenzi coos playfully, “It’s good to have dreams, sweet cheeks.”
At the cop shop, two nameless cops are chaining Random Slavic Villain to the desk in the interrogation room. The low-voiced chatter establishes that RSV is a cop killer and at least one of the nameless cops would like to be left alone with him to get some justice on.
There are a lot of extras milling about, tragically, none of them interacting with Dyson or even Hale who are suspiciously absent. A downbeat pulses through the room and a trio of strippers strut into the cop shop, masked and in matching outfits of black leather. They proceed to wiggle and waggle their way through the group of policemen, stripping a few of shirt, flak vest, utility belt and pants. RSV watches through the slats of the window shade with amused interest.
At the cop shop, Dyson (Wolf man! You’re back! Never leave me again!) voiceovers to Hale that they need to get Zephyr (aka RSV) out of there. They enter the squad room to find the uniform cops in disarray, half dressed. Puzzled, Dyson asks what the hell is going on. His gaze falls on interrogation room and he beelines for it. Hale to a uni: “Officer, where are your pants?!” The officer shrugs sheepishly. Dyson throws open the interrogation room door to find Zephyr’s chains in a pile on the table with no Zephyr in them, his prison jump suit on the floor. “We got bigger problems, Hale.”
Still shots from the CCTV are spread across Dyson’s desk. He takes one that shows a stripper escorting a cop from the shop. Hale wonders if it’s Saunders. Dyson reveals that it’s actually Zephyr. “So these girls they come in here, seduce enough clothing off our guys to dress Zephyr as a cop and walk him out of here.” Hale admits that it screams fae. “Damn right it does,” Dyson agrees. “It smells like it too,” and he means this literally, “but it’s weird, it’s faint.” He doesn’t get why three fae women would break out a human killer. “Who the hell are they?” Hale asks. “More specifically, who the hell is she?” Dyson wonders, pointing to the girl in the picture.
In a random, albeit sunny lakeside park Kenzi and Bo are a picnic table interviewing a prospective client. Kenzi is reading from a news clipper that features the still shot of the stripper and Zephyr. “The young woman featured in the leak footage helped the accused murderer escape by flirting with the male officers present.” Client insists that “her Sheri” wouldn’t do it. “We’re just simple tree folk,” she insists, so we know right away that she’s lying. Bo points out that the girl in the photo is masked and wonders if Client is sure she’s her daughter. “A mother knows!” Client insists, even as she allows that it has been 10 years since she’s seen her. Bo asks what happened 10 years ago and Client explains the basic mother/daughter conflict and normal fights until Sheri left and Client never heard from her again. And then she saw the news about the break out. “The fae in town say that you’re the best, that you can find my Sheri,” she says tearfully. Bo’s smile is quick at this, but she’s back to studying the clipping right away.
Kenzi gently points out the photo of Sheri with “Mister Killer of the Year” screams guilty, and Client emphatically says that’s the problem. “They’re going to think that she’s with this monster!” She repeats that they’re just simple tree folk, but as a mother she has to try and protect Sheri. Bo admits that she’s a sucker for a good mother/daughter reunion and will take the case. “But if she’s working for Zephyr, we’re going to have to turn this over to the police,” she warns. And that means Dyson.
Bo and Kenzi watch her depart. “Simple tree folk,” Kenzi muses. “She said that like 50 times. You buy it?” Bo: “When have the fae ever been straight with us? I say buyer beware.” ‘Bout damn time, kiddo. I was beginning to lose my ability to suspend disbelief in your ongoing naiveté. Kenzi points out the small issue that Sheri’s last known whereabouts was on Dyson and Hale’s turf. Bo, painfully: “Which means we have to go digging in their backyard without them knowing.” Oh honey, they’ll know. They will definitely know.
Kenzi: “Lying. Sneakery. Killers on the loose.” Bo snits that she’s feeling a distinctive lack of joy for this case. Kenzi repeats Zephyr’s name to herself and then again with Slavic emphasis. “He’s Russian, right?” Bo confirms it. “Oh, well then lighten up Bo-bop-a-lu-la! I got peeps.” And she takes out her phone to hit up the Russian underground hotline.
At the cop shop, Hale – Hale! –
is interviewing uniforms in the interrogation room. As his last interviewee leaves, he mockingly recaps the inconclusive statements from the men. “Uh, all I remember is…waking up with a pup tent in my pants.” HA! Hale, disgruntled: “Thank you, Officer Horn Dog. We got an APB on that right now.” Snort. Dyson comes in to tell him they got a hit on Zephyr’s last known whereabouts.
Bo is on the cell as she inches her way through an abandoned garage. “If this is the right van, you tell your cousin we own him a Twinkie,” she says to Kenzi and disconnects. She approaches a van and finds a stripper’s outfit lying next to it. “Oh Sheri,” she moans.
She opens the back of the van, but it’s empty, so she tries the front, but only has time to find some scraps of paper in the front seat before a car pulls up outside with a screech of its tires. Shoving the paper in her jacket, something else down the depths of her cleavage, she grabs the keys and hustles out of the van.
Bo runs through the garage, turning her back so she can keep an eye on the door as she backs up – and into a Zephyr who is dangling from a noose, dead. Blood drips from the stump where his hand has been chopped off, only dead men don’t bleed, so… “
Eww,” says Bo.
The door to the garage opens. “Bo!” Dyson calls, making her jump. Dyson’s gun is out in his hand – cause he is happy to see her (sorry, couldn’t resist) –as he and Hale approach her slowly. “What?” she asks casually as though they didn’t just find her standing beneath a bloody corpse. “Oh, yeah. Officers, I’d like to report a murder.” Hale shakes his head as he and Dyson exchange are you freaking kidding me?! glances and face her with clenched jaws and pissed ’tudes. Bo smiles innocently.
“How are you?” Bo asks Dyson and, for the record, she genuinely seems quite glad to see him. “I haven’t seen you for a while. Is that a new haircut?” Heeeeee. Dyson dryly, in THAT VOICE: “ That’s nice. That’s cute. What are you doing here?” Bo says it’s kind of a funny story/coincidence thing. “That’s great. I love funny stories,” Dyson deadpans.
Bo drops the smile and tells him she’s investigating a missing person’s case. “What missing person?” Dyson asks. “I can’t say,” Bo replies tightly. “Why?” Dyson shoots back. “Client confidentiality!” Bo asserts. Dyson tells her Zephyr has nothing to do with her missing person. “What lefty over here? No. Hell, no,” Bo tosses off.
Hale returns from searching the van to tell Dyson that it’s empty, but we knew that. Though if Dyson wanted to search Bo’s cleavage, he might find more than he bargained for – as usual. “Looks like someone cleaned out the glove compartment,” he says and they both know who “someone” is. This is Bo’s cue to “let you guys get back to it” before she contaminates their crime scene. She pushes through between them and leaves. The two men watch her depart (admit it, you would too), and then Dyson shakes his head as he contemplates what’s left of Zephyr. “She is definitely holding out on us,” Dyson mutters. No darling, just on you. More’s the pity.
Hale hopes Dyson is wrong “because as nasty as Zephyr was? Whoever did this to him is even nastier.” Dyson thinks it looks ritualistic. “I gotta get this body to Lauren.” Because amongst her extensive credentials including doctor and cartographer to name but two, is coroner and forensic specialist. Hale: “You think the dancing queen and her chick clique got together and did this to him?” Dyson: “I gotta find her.” What’s with all this “I” stuff, wolf man? Your partner is standing right there!
At The Dal (drink!), Bo unloads her booty (not like that!) on the table in front of Kenzi. Kenzi quips about the dubious merits of glove compartments, “the boho bags of men packed with crap and not nearly the practical carryall you hoped for when you bought it on sale.” Uh, sure, okay. She and Bo examine the evidence. Kenzi finds a rib and is grossed out. Kenzi wonders if these people are tree folk, shouldn’t they be doing stuff like “communing with nature, making their own granola. Not hanging cop killers from rafters?” Unless they’re not tree folk, Bo adds.
She tells Kenzi how the “cops” are one step behind them. Honestly, it’s not like Hale and Dyson don’t know Kenzi and Bo well enough to know that Bo will immediately go to The Dal or Hilton Hovel and share what she found with Kenzi and ergo they should do the same and take it from them. But that would make for a real short episode, so...
“And if Dyson finds out that I lied to him…” What? What’s he going to do? Yell at you? Break your heart? Sex up another woman in front of you? Hook up with his first crush while you look on? Oh wait; he’s already done all that!
Kenzi immediately shushes her miming a slice across her throat and she frantically gathers up the detritus from the table. Bo shuffles around in her chair to find PerfectCiara at the bar behind her.
“Bo,” PerfectCiara exclaims as she lays eyes on the pair. “And Kenzi, right?” Wait, when did she meet Kenzi? Our ladies fake smile and Hi! her as Trick comes in from Tolkien’s Parlor. PerfectCiara immediately asks him for his most expensive bottle of Scotch. He asks after the occasion. “Closing a business deal in Zurich,” PerfectCiara says proudly. She’s investing in a medical institute and thought she’d celebrate. “McElroy coming up,” Trick promises.
As Trick crosses back past our ladies, Bo grabs his arm. “Whoa, whoa, whoa! What is she, like a millionaire?!” Trick says multiply that by a couple thousand and you got it. “She practically ran her husband’s security company and now that he’s passed she owns it.” That would be Majesty, right? The mercenary joint that Cayden and the lads were part of? PerfectCiara ran it so well that, the moment her husband died, one of his staff was able to kidnap the new president and CEO? Wouldn’t a woman of her supposed rank have some bulky bodyguards on hand at all times? And you’re trying to tell me none of them went after her kidnapped ass? Sure. Not to mention that she’s such an impressive warrior, but she couldn’t resist one slightly-past-his-time wolf? Uh huh.
Sometimes show, you weary me unduly.
Bo gapes at PerfectCiara and as she turns back to Kenzi, her face is full of hopeless misery. “So Dyson’s new girlfriend is a billionaire and I live in a house with no walls.” Sweetie, you’ve seen his loft. Does he strike you as a wolf who cares about that crap? Kenzi smiles at her softly, but what can she say? She goes back to the crap from the van and, natch, instantly finds a key piece of paper. She holds up a business card that says Naughty Ladies. “Get ready for some serious cheering up, Lady Blah Blah.” Bo reads from the card with disbelief as to how a gentlemen’s club is supposed to cheer her up. Kenzi points out that Sheri was last seen bumping and grinding for the boys in blue. “Come on! It’ll be fun! Lap dances! Implants! Strippers! Oh my!”
At the cop shop, Hale and Dyson are reviewing the evidence. I’m kinda enjoying watching the guys approach the case from one side and the women from the other. Hale mentions an officer who recently lost his key card and Dyson pulls out one of the surveillance shots that shows “Boyd” cozying up to Sheri during her bump and break out. They agree that it looks like they know one another, even though strippers are usually that friendly to pretty much any man with a dollar bills. So I’ve been told. Hale: “Something tells me that ain’t the first time he’s plucked that G-string.” Ba dump ching.
Kenzi and Bo enter the club, Kenzi festooned in a long, curly hot pink wig. “Toldja,” she says to Bo. “Like Vegas for crotch.” Bo insists that they’re there on business. “Sure, sure,” Kenzi placates her disingenuously. “Ladies, start your va jay jays.” The camera pans through the club to show a series of women doing their jobs, working the pole either on the stage or on a client. Bo’s focus zeroes in on the woman on the main stage and she watches the show as the woman strips off her sheer slip to dance in a bra and panties set. “Wow,” says Kenzi with a wide blink of her eyes. “Who knew? I think I might actually dig chicks.” And the Internet burns to a crisp under the weight and speed of the Kenzi/Bo ’shippers’ instant fan fic.
Bo waves a hand in front of Kenzi’s face, and she shakes her head clear. “I think you and all of these guys,” Bo begins. “Sorta hypnotized?” Kenzi finishes. “Good for us,” she claims with a small, naughty smile. Bo suggests that the cops were hypnotized too and Kenzi wonders by who (whom, darling.)
Bo studies the girl ramping up on the stage and recognizes her. “By simple tree folk with pastie power and killer moves.” The two women stare at Sheri as she dances, both getting faraway stupid looks on their faces, Bo as she is sucked in by her hunger and Kenzi as she’s sucked in by Sheri’s power. “Hoo,” Kenzi exhales heavily. I’m digging the fact that by the look of things – and you can totally look at those things – the actress playing Sheri is no stick figure but rather a woman with some seriously powerful legs and genuine curves. Go show.
Our ladies get seats near the stage as Sheri dances on. Kenzi: “Baby, my hair could be on fire and I would not care. All there is is what she’s selling.” Bo is likewise enthralled by Sherry as she strips off her top, flashing the opposite side of the room so as not to offend the censors, though we get several, long shots of generous side boobalage.
Kenzi is all bug-eyed and hept up. “Whoo! You don’t feel it?” she asks Bo. “Horny, yes,” Bo admits without fanfare. “But not hypnotized. Her mojo must only work on humans.” She figures Sheri ramped it up to 11 to bust Zephyr out of the cop shop. As the music changes and Sheri collects her discarded clothes and exits the stage, Bo notes that the dancer looks so haunted. “Try hunted,” Kenzi corrects and she breaks free of Sheri’s spell. “As for possibly hacking up a dude, taking a trophy hand, and hanging him out to dry.” Bo point out that they still need to talk to her. Kenzi raises her hand and flags Sheri down. Bo asks with alarm what Kenzi is doing. “You’ve got a lap; she likes to dance!” Kenzi hisses as Sheri arrives.
Kenzi hands over a bill and Sheri goes to work. It’s a little amusing to watch Bo fight her desire to feed of the stripper and her power in order to question her while she grinds on Bo’s lap. When Bo tries to start small talk, Sheri drops her robe and suggests that Bo sit back and relax while Sheri’s body does the talking. Bo swallows as she gazes at Sheri’s bare chest. “Wow,” she sighs. “You are beautiful.” Kenzi starts clearing her throat madly as Bo brushes Sheri’s hair off her shoulder. So much for the “no touching” rule they have in strip clubs. So I’ve been told. “And ah, sparkly,” Bo adds, a little dazed and Kenzi smacks her shoulder. Bo tells Sheri she’s talented and then asks what she does in her off time. This is too much for Sheri who halts the dance and accuses Bo of being a cop. “Oh no,” Kenzi denies, “Bo hates cops.” Except when she’s banging them or when they’re swearing true eternal love to her. But that last bit only happened the once. Kenzi says Bo is looking for a job. Sheri says Bo will have to talk to Lewis. She waves over a central casting thug and decamps.
“Aren’t you a pretty thing? What can I do to you – for you?” Lewis asks. So we know this guy is a class act right from the start. Bo stands up to shake and says she was looking for work. Lewis says she’ll be headlining in no time, but there’s a price that all the girls have to pay. “And you definitely have the currency,” he assures her, staring at her amply displayed chest. Bo corrects that she was thinking more something behind the bar. I like how the show remembers from time to time that she does have a trade of sorts. Lewis says it’s her call but that a “beautiful thing like you can only make the customers happy and me richer.” He hands over a card and departs.
At Hilton Hovel (drink!), Bo can’t believe she’s actually going back to work for that scumbag. Kenzi says she’s not doing it for real though, right? Bo wonders why she wouldn’t, and Kenzi points out that their mission, “which we chose to accept” was to find Donna’s aka Client’s daughter and they have done so. “Fait accompli!”
Bo wonders why Sheri helped a murderer escape, then killed him, and then went right back to dancing. “All very good questions…for the po-po to answer!” Kenzi says.
“Sheri doesn’t have anyone in her corner,” Bo points out with feeling. “I am not turning my back on her!” Kenzi smiles, and brings over whatever she’s been cooking in the toaster over. “And that’s what makes you, you,” she says to her bestie. She’s in.
At the cop shop, Hale is interviewing Boyd in the interrogation room about the key card Sheri and the girls used to get into the cop garage. Boyd insists it was a set up and Hale says either that or Boyd was working for Zephyr. Boyd denies this and Hale gets a little nasty with him. “Cop killer accomplice! Now tell me is that going to make you a jailhouse hero? Or a jailhouse bitch?!” It’s enough for Boyd to crack and he tells Hale about the Naughty Ladies club Boyd admits that he might have told Sheri he was transferring Zephyr and maybe she took the key card.
At The Dal (drink!) Trick is on the phone down in Tolkien’s Lair marking hot spots on a map. “So the light fae nuns attack the dark fae customers at a charity clothing drive?” he clarifies. Apparently. He thanks nameless person on the other end of the phone and asks that they let him know if anything else happens, “nun-related or otherwise.” Snort. Sounds like strange things are afoot in Faeville.
He ponders the map as Bo enters the room. Taking one look at him, she asks if everything is OK and Trick assures her, with a smile, that all is well even as he subtly covers the map with a stray sheet of parchment. He asks how he can help her. “Let’s say I know of a murderer who’s been hanged, his hand’s been hacked off, and he’s got a real bad haircut.” Trick asks if any fat was removed from his body and Bo adds that yeah, Zephyr was kind of filleted.
Trick goes after a book, Giles-like, as Bo adds that it was gross, “it was disgusting.” Handing the book over, Trick informs her that someone is making a Hand of Glory and if that didn’t just cue a Lady Gaga earworm in your head, you are a better person than I.
“It’s a candle,” Trickopedia explains. “A talisman for thieves. Whoever lights it can break into anything they want for as long as the candle stays lit.” Bo thinks it’s a good idea then to keep your vault drafty and Trick adds that the only thing that extinguishes it is milk. Naturally. Bo thinks this Hand of Glory sounds like every thief’s wet dream, so why doesn’t everyone have one? Trick: “Well, because the hand retains the deviant qualities of the original body. And because making it is a grisly affair.”
Cut to Dyson at the cop shop. “A hand of what?!” He’s consulting with Doctor Lauren in the interrogation room. You can go ahead and read that again to get your head around it. I sure did. Doctor Lauren explains about the Hand of Glory and that “you take the hand of a murderer who’s been recently hanged by the neck until dead. You marinate that hand in a mixture of rare herbs and essential oils.” Hmmm. Barbeque! “That serves as the base of the candle,” she continues. The candle is made from the rendered fat of the victim and the hair serves as the wick. Dyson: “Of course.” Doctor Lauren warns that the more vicious the killer, the stronger the powers of the hand. “Given the Zephyr’s history, this is going to be one powerful talisman.”
“One other thing,” Dyson says, closing the file. “Have you spoken to anyone else about this case?” Doctor Lauren, eyes wide and innocent, “Like who?” Dyson cocks his head all, c’mon you know who I mean, do I really need to say her name out loud? But Doctor Lauren maintains her nonchalance. Dyson thanks her for the autopsy and moves to depart. “Dyson?” the doc asks, standing. “Would you mind if I hang here? I just need some personal time before the,” she rolls her eyes, “guard dog escorts me back.” Behind her, the silhouette of one of The Ash’s goons is visible in the window. Dyson, gently: “Take as much time as you need.”
The moment he’s out the door, Doctor Lauren is on the phone calling Bo. Bo greets her warmly and Doctor Lauren tells her about consulting with Dyson on the Russian Strangler case. “He wanted to know if I had talked to anyone about it. I think he meant you.” Really? Huh. No kidding. Bo confirms that she and Dyson are working the same case, just different angles. The doc explains about the corpse missing hand but Bo is already there and knows about the Hand of Glory. “Is that it?” she asks the doc.
The Doc says no, but it’s a little awkward. Bo encourages her to ask anyway. “Have you had any luck getting the so called solution to my – predicament?” the doc finally asks. Bo pauses before admitting that all she ended up with was a lot of questions. “Was there something else that you wanted to tell me?” Bo asks pointedly. Frowning, the doc says no then asks if Bo is all right. Bo snits that she’s fine and hangs up.
At the club, a few girls are dancing. BartenderBo slides a shot across the bar as Sheri arrives. She wonders how Bo knew she needed a shot. “After that last sleezoid you were grinding on? Even I needed a drink.” Sheri pounds the shot back and says that after Lewis raised the entry fees, she has to make up the difference somewhere. Bo asks why she doesn’t just go to another club. Sheri admits that she’s thinking of getting out of the business entirely. Bo is enthusiastic but suggests that it would take a lot of cash to do that. “What are you going to do, rob a bank?” she jokes. Sheri snickers, but all too quickly she drops her gaze and looks guilty.
Up at the sound booth, Lewis introduces the shimmering seductions of Sheri. Sheri goes off to dance and Bo wipes down the bar as two men approach. “What can I get you – guys,” she trails off as she looks to see Dyson and Hale. “Beer?” she asks cheekily. “Scotch? We’re having a special on body shots.” Dyson and Hale exchange looks and then Dyson gives Bo the weary stare of pissed exasperation as Hale shakes his head. He does that a lot—Hale, I mean. Bo grimaces and twitches in place, bracing for the scolding to come.
“So what is this? Another funny story slash coincidence thing?” Dyson asks with bite, which makes little sense since
SyFy Channel the producers cut Bo’s initial use of the phrase, but whatever. “Because you’d better have a damn good reason for interfering in my investigation.” Bo tells them the drinks are coming right up and as she mixes, whispers that they’re going to blow her cover. Dyson snaps that Bo told him she was on a missing person’s case, and Bo insists that she was – is just that.
On the mike, Lewis calls for some love for Sheri, the headliner. Hale: “Looks like Bo’s missing person’s case is our missing person’s case.” Dyson is pissed that Bo knew where Sheri was the whole time and didn’t tell him and Bo insists that she was going to, but he clearly doesn’t believe her and says that they have someone they have to bring in. Bo tries to stop them, saying that she knows Sheri is in trouble but if they arrest her then they’ll never find out why she made the Hand of Glory. Hale is confident they’ll get it out of her, “it’s what we do.” Frantic, Bo suggests that she stay undercover and snoop around, keeping them in the loop. Hale and Dyson exchange speaking looks; it would be good to have someone on the inside and they know it. So does Bo. “C’mon Dyson,” she cajoles. “
You need me on the inside.” “I need you?!” Dyson says. “You’ve been lying to me. I don’t even know if I can trust you.” Hey, unfair wolf man and more than a little bit too. “On this you can,” Bo insists. That’s an – odd way of putting it there. “Something big is going on here and I can find out what it is.” Dyson: “Then you’re gonna tell us everything.” Bo emphatically agrees. Reluctantly, he and Hale move off through the club, but Dyson turns back. “And be careful,” he warns her gently and not without feeling. So. Confusing!
Bo checks on Lewis, still at the sound board, and decides to take the opportunity to scope out his office. A large marlin hangs on the wall while a hammerhead shark dangles from the ceiling and several other fishing trophies and photos pepper the room. Bo makes a show of rustling around his untidy desk and then turns to the 10-foot frame poster advertising the club complete that hangs in state behind his chair. Wiggling the frame, she pushes it aside to reveal a vault. A complicated design is etched into the metal. As Bo reaches for it, her hand passes through the metal. It’s a holographic image. She pulls out her phone and snaps a picture before sliding the poster back into place and the phone back into her cleavage. What doesn’t she keep down there? As she makes her way past the hanging trophies, Lewis enters all “what the hell are you doing in here?”
Bo quickly spins a tale of admiring his trophies, going on to say that her dad used to take her fishing when she was living, which sounds like a little truth mixed in, but then, the best lies always do. Lewis relaxes, saying that not many women appreciate his collections. Bo: “Well, that’s because they don’t realize what it takes to reel in a marlin or a sail fish!” Lewis goes on to boast about his catches as though they’re women he bagged as he backs Bo through the office. “Each catch has its own story,” he says, caressing her face. Bo says she’d like to hear them all, but she left a couple of customers waiting at the bar. Behind her back, she palms one of his used glasses and then makes her escape.
At The Dal (drink!) Hale, Dyson, and Bo are grouped around a laptop at the bar. Hale clarifies that Bo wants him to blow up a picture of an invisible safe. Bo says it’s not entirely invisible, “it was sort of – shimmery.”
Dyson: “Kind of there but not there?” Bo says that’s exactly what she means. Hale makes some pleased noises and then – presto change-o! – the safe’s image – ahem – shimmers into view on screen.
Impressed, Dyson says he hasn’t seen one of these in years. “A holographic safe made by the Nibelung Dwarves,” Hale explains. Dyson adds that the dwarves are the best metal smiths in the world who somehow found a way to bind iron so that it can exist between two dimensions. Hale states that no one gets in one of these “ever!” and Bo adds unless you have the Hand of Glory to help you out.
Dyson answers his ringing phone and finds the results of the fingerprint test from Lewis’ scotch glass. Real name is Kobe Ah Ket, dark fae, a bunyip or water spirit who gets off on abducting women. Hale: “I say we grab his watery miscreant ass now,” but Bo won’t let them. She insists there’s something in that safe that Sheri needs and if Lewis is the only one with access, there’s a good chance the girl will never get it. Dyson wonders quietly what it is that Bo isn’t telling them and she admits that she knows a way to find out what it is that Sheri is trying to steal. Dyson gives her until noon tomorrow. “Not one second more.”
At Hilton Hovel (drink!), Bo entreats DonnaClient to tell her what it is Sheri wants to steal. Donna is looking at a stripper shot of Sheri. Upset, she claims that even if she did see Sheri, her daughter would probably never forgive her. Kenzi passes over a mug to DonnaClient and offers the opinion that she thinks Sheri would forgive her because she, Kenzi, would forgive her mother given the chance. Donna asks if Kenzi is a runaway and Kenzi confirms it. “Still am, I guess. Turns out the whole ‘stepdad’ thing wasn’t for me. I told my mom to choose and she did.” DonnaClient tearfully admits that Sheri probably thinks the same of her and Bo points out that she’ll never know what Sheri thinks unless DonnaClient tells Bo and Kenzi the truth.
“You are not tree folk, are you?” Kenzi asks, archly getting the ball rolling. DonnaClient admits they’re selkies. Kenzi, confused: “That’s like some kind of mermaid, right?” Bo: “More like seal shifters.” Nicely clarified there, Bo.
DonnaClient tearfully explains that years ago she fell in love with a human fisherman and gave away her pelt to be with him. “But I thought that fae couldn’t mate with humans, legally speaking,” Bo says. DonnaClient explains that selkies are in a grey area as once they remove their pelts, they’re mostly human. Kenzi: “Except for your super seductive snatch power.”
DonnaClient admits that she was pregnant when she met the fisherman and that when Sheri was born she hid her pelt away as well. Bo: “Didn’t she want it growing up? Didn’t she miss it?” There’s a tone of her own adolescent pain in her incredulous question. She must have felt totally lost growing up, unable to feel truly fulfilled because she was so unaware of her own true nature. DonnaClient’s silence condemns her and Bo’s mile fades as she figures it out. “You didn’t tell her she was a selkie.” DonnaClient admits that she didn’t. “When she was fifteen, she found her pelt.” Kenzi: “Hmm, which triggered the great mother/daughter crap storm of 2002.”
Bo asks with feeling what happens if a selkie doesn’t have its pelt. DonnaClient shakes her head mournfully. “You can’t ever go back to the sea,” she confesses, all the pain of her own decision in her voice. “Ever.”
Bo’s jaw drops with the tragedy of the situation. She knows what it means to not be able to ever go back home. She’ll never be able to return to the small town where she grew up, to her human parents.
Back at the club, Bo crosses the empty room and confronts Sheri, who is holding the Hand of Glory. “This is about your pelt, isn’t it? Lewis stole it from you and you’re planning to use the Hand of Glory to get it back.” ’Cause it’s standing on a moment with you, Sheri. Sheri freaks out a little and demands to know who Bo is really. Honey, did you not see the title sequence? Hear the voiceover?
Bo reveals that Sheri’s mother hired her to find Sheri. “Look,” Bo tells her. “You can either deal with me or with the cops, but I’m not the one who’s going to try to bring you in for Zephyr’s murder.” Sheri explains that Zephyr used to get drunk and come into the club a lot and once even beat one of the strippers up rather badly. When they heard he was arrested and that he was a killer… “I did what I had to do to save me and my sisters.”
Shocked, Bo realizes this means all the girls who dance at the club are selkies. Bo asks how they all wound up there and Sheri explains that they had plans to open a B&B by the water so they could dance and play and frolic all the daylong whenever they wanted. But that took money and that’s where Lewis came in. “Stupid bunyip tricked us,” Sheri says, bitterly. He told them he had an investor friend and the girls should turn human and put their charms to work on the guy. But there was no investor. “Lewis stole our skins, and he promised us that if we danced for a year, he would give them back. But he didn’t.”
Bo concludes that the girls finally decided to take matters into their own hands, “or ‘hand’ as it were,” she clarifies. Sheri: “All we needed was a murderer, a dumb cop, and a way to get into the station. I guess you know the rest.” She wants to know what Bo is going to do about it. Bo steps forward. “Like I said,” she reminds Sheri gently, “youe mother hired me to help you.” She glances down at the gruesome Hand of Glory and smiles reassuringly at Sheri.
Sheri and Bo put the Hand of Glory together as the other girls look on. Bo explains that whoever lights the candle can pull off the theft. “And no one can stop them,” Sheri confirms. Bo clarifies that once she helps the selkie, Sheri will go with Bo to see her mother, emphasizing how much Sheri’s mother loves her.
As Sheri goes to light the hand, Lewis surprises them as he comes in bitching about his busted back door. He demands to know what’s going on, but before the girls can answer, Dyson and Hale enter the club, guns drawn and pointed. “Dyson, you said we had until noon!” Bo accuses. “Not one second more,” Dyson agrees as he approaches while Hale keeps his weapon on Lewis.
Quickly, Bo tells Sheri to grab onto the Hand of Glory. As Dyson gets closer, she wraps her hand over Sheri’s and lights the candle. Dyson freezes in place only a step away from her. Bo and Sheri carefully make their way around the frozen men. “That hand’s even better than advertised,” Bo quips.
Bo and Sheri enter Lewis’ office. Bo: “Okay. Hand of Glory? Check. Frozen people? Check. Weird impenetrable holographic safe? Check. Now what?” With the Hand of Glory in – er – hand, Sheri pushes the poster aside and tries to touch the safe, but her hand goes through the hologram. “That was supposed to work,” Sheri says. “Okay,” Bo tells her reassuringly. “So we’re winging it. We can do that. Maybe the hand knows what to do.” Sheri places the hand on Lewis’ desk.
Immediately, a vaporous image of Zephyr’s hand rises from the base of the candle and crosses to the safe. The moment the ghost hand touches it, the safe becomes tangible. The hand turns the tumblers and opens the safe. “Atta boy,” Bo murmurs. She pulls open the door and starts handing pelts to an excited and grateful Sheri. But as they grab the rest of the pelts, the vapor hand rises again. This time it floats across the room to strangle Sheri. But a quick-thinking Bo immediately runs across the room to Lewis’ coffee stand, grabs a pint of cream, (ewww, that’s been sitting out!), and dumps it all over the hand, releasing the spell and freeing Sheri.
Back in the club, everyone unfreezes with the destruction of the Hand of Glory just as Sheri and Bo come trotting in, arms full of selkie pelts. The girls freak out, racing across the room to reclaim them. “Get your hands off those pelts!” Lewis snarls and tries to stop the girls. Hale is not amused and shoves him back. “Hey, they belong to me!” Lewis demands. “No, they don’t,” Hale denies as he pushes Lewis against the table and cuffs him.
Dyson, standing on the sound booth step above everyone else, tells Hale to get a protesting Lewis out of there. Bo happily tells the girls that they’re all free. “Not quite,” Dyson says, coming down the steps. “Miss, you’re gonna need to come with me,” he tells Sheri in THAT VOICE but not unkindly.
“Dyson, please. Sheri saved these girls from virtual slavery, look at them!” He tells Bo that Zephyr’s death was very public, very sloppy and one hell of a mess. “The Ash is going to want someone to answer for it.” Bo wonders why The Ash even has to find out. Dyson, a tad amused at her audacity. “You’re suggesting I conceal all of this?” Bo asks what’s going to happen to Lewis. Dyson: “Either from the light or the dark, he’ll get what’s coming to him.”
Bo says that will be justice, “Sheri saved these women from servitude! She deserves to be free.” Sheri approaches them and tells Dyson their pelts are who they are. “To have something so special taken from you. Do you have any idea how that would feel?”
He does, actually, and that knowledge is written all over his face as he looks at Bo with so much emotion, regret, and pained understanding that she has to drop her gaze from his. Dyson shrugs, giving in. ”Then you and I?” he says to Bo, gesturing between them, “We’ve got some work to do.” Sigh. I miss this Dyson so much. He tells they need to start by getting Zephyr’s body from Doctor Lauren and creating a new crime scene. “Thank you,” Bo says. She knows he’s doing this for her. Dyson nods. “All right.” Sheri thanks him too as he ambles off. Sheri and Bo hug it out while Bo stares after Dyson.
At The Dal (drink!), Trick stares down at the front page of the newspaper. Top story? The suicide of the cop killer Zephyr. Trick’s phone rings. “Hello! Again?!” No! Not the nuns! “How many were hurt?”He thanks whoever is calling him and disconnects, immediately dialing another number on his rotary phone. D-d-d-d-d-d- 5. D-d-d-d-d-d -5. D-d-d-d-d-d-d-5…
“This is Fitzpatrick McCorrigan,” he announces himself formally. “I’d like to speak to Lauren if The Ash will allow.”
On the shoreline, DonnaClient and Sheri are having mother/daughter bonding apology time. DonnaClient apologizes for choosing her husband over her daughter and hiding her pelt and Sheri agrees with her that it sucked. Sheri says she knows her mother did it to protect her but by the time she figured it out, it was too late. “So we’re Okay?” DonnaClient tearfully asks and Sheri agrees that they are. “Thanks to this one here,” she adds, motioning to Bo who is standing by watching the reunion. “Hey, all I did was bartend a little,” Bo says. Sheri tells her that she knows what Bo did for her. “Without you, I would be stuck on dry land forever.”
Sheri prepares to leave and her mother goes off on a ramble about what she should or shouldn’t do while she and the other girls are setting up their B&B, “and don’t take your pelt of for just anybody!” Think it’s a little too late for that one there, Mom. Sheri assures her mother she’ll be fine and heads for the water, stripping down with the pelt clutched to her chest and walking into the water. It looks blood cold on that beach, lemme tell you. That poor girl must have been freezing. As Bo and DonnaClient watch, a seal’s head pops up out of the water and then with a flick of its fin, Sheri is gone.
At Dyson’s loft, PerfectCiara is riding the wolf like she is on the last leg of the Tour de France. Unfortunately, it doesn’t look like Dyson minds being the bike and the saddle in this metaphor. They bump and thrust for a few seconds. Dyson is working her – er – it – back and shoulder muscles clenching and releasing in a way that makes his tattoo dance the rumba and – oh good grief – splash-splash-splash-splash-splashitty-splash.
They are clearly coming to the sticky point when PerfectCiara’s phone goes off. “Don’t you dare!” Dyson orders, out of breath and grinning. Because PerfectCiara is perfectly nuts, she actually pauses on an upswing to reach for the phone. “But it might be important,” she says, picking it up, but Dyson grabs her hand. “All of your calls are important,” he teases, tossing the phone over his head. Honey, you can take my brand new smartphone and toss it off the Grand Canyon if I can switch places with PerfectCiara right now.
PerfectCiara: “Well I’m a very powerful woman with a soft side as well.” Dyson studies her. “I noticed. Thank you for the painting,” he says with a tip of his head to the picture now hanging on his wall. Oh my giddy aunt, his arms and chest are huge and in a really good way, not a WWE, steroid-infused way. Hmmm. Thank you KHR and Underworld Awakening! PerfectCiara looks at the painting over her shoulder and calls it lovely. “I picked it up yesterday.”
“You don’t have to buy me things,” Dyson tells her. Don’t appreciate being a kept wolf, lovah? Quelle surpise! PerfectCiara giggles that she knows this; she bought it for herself. “Turns out I don’t need to travel to Zurich as much as I thought. Not with video conferencing.” Here’s hoping the loft doesn’t have Wi-Fi. She figures while she’s there spending hours on business calls, why not have something pretty to look at? PerfectCiara is rubbing Dyson’s back and looking at him when she says this in a way that makes me think the pretty thing in question is not the painting. “I’m not pretty enough?” Dyson quips. Pretty isn’t the word, darling. And thank you for making the point.
They’ve been slowly keeping up the thrust and parry movements during this chat. PerfectCiara keeps running her hands through his hair so that the curls are beginning to stand on end a bit. It’s possible I may have watched this scene too many times.
PerfectCiara says she’s also ordered a throw rug because, “as you pointed out so delicately last night, my toes are icicles of pain.” They smile at one another. “Enough talk,” PerfectCiara says, kissing him and they go back at it in earnest. But as Dyson embraces PerfectCiara, unease furrows his brow and he sighs heavily. He should be happy. So why isn’t he happy? Got a certain succubus on your mind, wolf boy? Hmm?
At The Dal (drink!), Trick is telling someone that about a week ago, he noticed an escalation in hostile activity between the light and the dark. “And like the nuns you mentioned, it’s always unprovoked,” Doctor Lauren clarifies. Looks like The Ash gave permission for more than just a phone call. Trick asks if Doctor Lauren has come across anything that would explain this. “Nothing that would trigger the blind rage that you describe.” Oh yeah? They’re nuns. No offense to the sisters at large, but I know a few recovering Catholic-school educated people who would disagree.
Doctor Lauren offers to do some research and Trick thanks her for it and for coming down on such short notice. “Are you kidding?” Doctor Lauren asks. “These calls are like field trips.” Oh, so this isn’t their first confab? Interesting. “Out here it’s the real world; in my lab it’s petri dishes, infectious disease smears and –”
“Blocked phone numbers?” Bo asks as she enters the bar. “Something like that,” Doctor Lauren agrees with a small smile. Bo asks if they can talk, but Doctor Lauren’s guard steps in her path. “Oh come on, buddy, five minutes,” Bo snaps at him. “Let me buy you a beer, friend,” Trick offers the guard. Trick to the rescue!
Bo takes his seat. “I owe you an apology,” she tells a surprised Doctor Lauren. What?! NO YOU DON’T. Doctor Lauren: “No you don’t.” See?! Bo slowly tells the doc that she was angry with her “and it was unfair.” WHAT THE FAE NOW?! “But it was only in reaction to you being unfair as well.” Well, that’s a tame way of putting it. I’d go with duplicitous, deceitful, and betraying, but will take ‘unfair’ in a pinch. Doctor Lauren: “Me?!” YES, YOU DOC!
Deep breath. Deep breath.
Bo puts The Morrigan’s box on the table between them, explaining to Doctor Lauren where it came from. “She says it’s the key to saving Nadia. Your girlfriend.” Doctor Lauren nods with resignation. She’s been waiting for this conversation for a long time. “Actually, I’m relieved. It’s been killing me, not telling you. But how do you turn to someone you care about and say ‘oh, by the way, I have a girlfriend and she’s lying in a coma?” You tell her with your mouth and your words and before you climb into her bed, fool. Duh.
Bo asks how long ComaNadia has been ComaNadia. “Five years,” the doc says flatly, “Because of me.” She explains to Bo and us all that she was in the Congo on a research grant and NotComaNadia was with her to take pictures of refugees for a magazine as Doctor Lauren had promised her a grand adventure. Five months later, an illness swept through some neighboring villages, quick and deadly. Doctor Lauren went to help, only to find out that the people being affected weren’t human. “That’s when you learned about the fae,” Bo interjects.
Doctor Lauren is increasingly losing her composure as she tells her tale. NotComaNadia became infected, the only “human” to get sick. Which means she’s fae, right? And if so, how come she was allowed to have a relationship with the doc when human fae boot knocking is a no-no? Or if she’s not fae, then why was she the only human to fall ill? Why didn’t super smart and curious Doctor Lauren asks some of these important questions at the time, hmm? Inquiring minds want to know.
Doctor Lauren: “The old Ash was there at the time and he offered me all of his resources to help find a cure for her, but in exchange for –”
“Your complete servitude,” Bo finishes softly. Doctor Lauren nods. “Well,” Bo decides with a look at The Morrigan’s box. “This could be the cure for (Coma)Nadia.” Teary, Doctor Lauren contemplates the box. “It would change everything,” Bo says pointedly.
“You haven’t opened it,” the doc notes, surprised again. Bo tells her she thought they should do that together. She opens the box to reveal an old nail lying on satin cloth. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Bo asks. Doctor Lauren takes the nail from Bo. “I have no idea.”
New Fae Terms:
Selkie: Shape shifters who take the form of seals. Comes from Scottish word selch or selk(ie). While in human form, their seal pelts must be hidden at all costs. Anyone who has a selkie’s pelt can control the shape shifter. Selkies are tied to the sea and cannot bear to stay in human form for long before the need for the sea becomes overwhelming.
Origins: Celtic and Icelandic mostly, from the Shetland and Orkney Islands.
Bunyip: A water fae with a penchant for enslaving women. Enjoys fishing.
Origins: Aboriginal. South Eastern Australia
Quotes of the Night:
Kenzi: Lighten up Bo-bop-a-loo-la!
Hale: Thank you Officer Horn Dog. We got an APB on that right now.
Bo: I haven’t seen you for a while. Is that a new haircut?
Bo: Dyson’s new girlfriend is a billionaire and I live in a house with no walls!
Kenzi: It’ll be fun! Lap dances! Implants! Strippers! Oh my!
Kenzi: Like Vegas for crotch.
Kenzi: Ladies, start your va jay jays.
Kenzi: Baby, my hair could be on fire and I would not care.
Next week: Episode 8: Death Did Not Become Her