Thank fae—Lost Girl Season 3 is here! Be sure to check out all of our recaps, from Season 1 and Season 2 to the most recent episode of Season 3 aired in the U.S. on the SyFy Channel. All caught up? Good. And now, on to the recap for last night’s episode 3.07, "There's Bo Place Like Home.”
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 both Canada and the U.S. (the U.S. is currently a day behind Canada's schedule). Be kind and respectful by not ruining it for those who have yet to watch the newest Season 3 episode. Thanks!
We begin with a close up of Bo’s beautiful eyes and, for a moment, I wonder if the LivEvil split scene marketing image is about to come to life before our eyes. But no, Bo is merely down in Tolkien’s Lair (drink!) preparing for her first step to conquer the Tests of the Dawning. She slowly blinks and Trick asks if she’s ready and Bo nods in a jerky motion. “Take a deep breath,” Trick encourages. “Try again.” Bo opens her eyes, breathes audibly, and slowly steps toward The Mirror of Erisod. Okay, fine, it’s an archway of entwined branches that frames an invisible threshold—one which proceeds to knock Bo back on her shapely ass. Trick makes a disappointed face but calmly asks what Bo did that time, as though she offended The Threshold somehow. Sprawled on the ground, Bo gives him A Look. “Begged the invisible threshold to knock me on my ass, obviously,” she snarks. “Was I not supposed to?”
Trick reminds her that most Fae have years to prepare for their Rites of Passage. “You have days before you devolve into something I have to keep in a cage!” Bo is not cowed. “Haven’t you always wanted a pet?” Trick sighs. “I see impending doom hasn’t affected your sense of humor,” he returns. Bo stalks across the room and frantically flips through a book on his desk. “This has to say how to get through the stupid door!” she insists. Trick patronizes that much is left to interpretation, “like I told you to—” But Bo has heard this litany too many times already. “Yes,” she interrupts, irritated, “to focus on the now. Shift consciousness and achieve an effortless merging of action and awareness,” she snits as she stalks back to The Threshold, clearly mimicking something Trick has said numerous times. “To allow yourself,” Trick reminds her laboriously, “to cross through The Threshold!”
Bo takes position in front of The Threshold again. “So I’m on my own then,” she concludes and, with a smile and shrug that says “‘fraid so!” Trick agrees with her. Bo sighs heavily and tries again. “Focusing…shifting…merging,” she counts off, the last with that “I’m so gonna kick your ass,” look she gets. “And I, Bo Dennis, allow myself to pass.” She eases one hand through the barrier before The Threshold rejects her again. “Fine! Plan B!” she exclaims and picks up a mace. Not the spray-can kind. Trick stops her at the last minute. “You can’t smash your problems away!” Anvil! Anvil Alert! “Oh yeah?” Bo snarks. “Did your ancient book sorta tell you that too?!” She throws the mace away and demands a break, but Trick resists. “Trick, this isn’t working!” Bo yells. “Sometimes you just gotta know when to fold ‘em, you know? I just want to go home!” she moans and takes off for Hilton Hovel (drink!).
Out in the bright light of day where the deer and the antelope frolic, a man changes a tire while his fiancée bitches nearby about being dragged out of the city to the far off land of NoCellServiceLand. Brad smells the air and says it reminds him of “being on the field throwing TDs for Grimley High!” So he’s home and reminiscing about the good old days when he was the high school quarterback as he changes a tire next to a field of tall grass. Dude is so dead. His fiancée grouses that all she smells is cow crap and questions Brad’s ability to change a tire. Brad assures her he’s done his fair share of “tire swaps.” I’m sure there’s a country song out there somewhere that tells us all about it too. She’s bitches some more that he brought her out all this way for cherries, but Brad insists they’re the “best damn cherries in the world. You know I kinda thought my fiancée would be a little more interested to see where I grew up,” he shoots back. Fiancée is slightly chagrined and claims she’d be in a better mood if they weren’t stuck in NoCellServiceLand and if she “wasn’t about to burst.” He suggests she cop a squat somewhere, and after an offended objection that Brad fails to acknowledge, she tramps off warning him that “if I’m not back in five, it’s on you.” Brad works his way under the car and carelessly advises that she watch out for poison ivy…and snakes. Say it with me: why does it always have to be snakes?
As fiancée tentatively wanders into the tall grass and pops a squat, Brad triumphantly knocks off the flat tire. The light flares, the wind machines turn on, the grayscale gel is switched in, and a tattered figure appears in the road behind him. Actually, she looks a lot like a better designed, female version of Shax. Believe me, nobody hates that I have that association buried somewhere in my brain more than I. Brad raises a hand to shield his eyes as Shaxée gives him the Evil Eye…and collapses the car on top of him. As Brad dies, the sky darkens ominously and Shaxée poufs away in a pillar of smoke...just as a worried fiancée returns to the car to discover her man has become road kill. Hysterical, she screams his name. Bet somebody wishes she wasn’t quite so bitchy now, hmm? Also, now she’s stuck in NoCellServiceLand with a dead body and no tire on the car, so…sucks to be fiancée.
Credits.
At The Dal (drink!), Trick is being interrogated about Bo by a striking if yet unnamed woman of a certain age (the beautiful Deborah O’Dell). Seriously show, why do you still make us work so hard for the Fae of the Day character names? She speaks with controlled formality and an accent that makes my ear twitch but one I can’t, at the moment, identify. I think it’s a suppressed English one. Her red hair is elegantly bound up and she’s wearing winter white suit with what might be ostrich feathered fringe. I can’t tell because I’m stunned by the shine of her gorgeous necklace. Bling me.
She assays that Bo has already shown signs of devolution and Trick eagerly confirms his granddaughter is desperate, “whether she realizes it or not!” The Woman makes notes and posits that Bo’s condition could become grave at a moment’s notice. “Is she still unaligned?” Not really, no, and not for some time, but whatever. Trick grimaces. “Stubbornly so,” he admits with all the frustration his granddaughter’s status continues to cause him. The Woman asks after Bo’s parents. Trick: “Father: unknown. Mother: a succubus.” He watches The Woman write the information down as she silently acknowledges the stacked deck of Bo’s lineage. Trick seems quite keen to please and has this air almost of reverence for The Woman. Methinks some Trickster mojo is getting its groove on!
The Woman cautiously addresses the fact that there are rumors as to Bo’s “potential” and Trick grimaces again in response. “Oh dear,” she says. “Oh dear that’s great news?!” Trick replies, trying and failing to introduce some levity. Not at all amused, The Woman lectures that succubi already take more preparation “and are at greater risk of failing their rites.” Trick soberly acknowledges this point. He must have gone through this with Aoife and thus knows exactly what it entails—and the risks. “If your granddaughter is as powerful as I’ve heard,” she continues, “a Fae’s devolution is directly proportionate to their abilities.”
“Bo is extra special,” Tricks allows, “so she runs the risk of becoming…extra UnderFae?” The Woman: “The Bo you know will cease to exist.” Oh, that’s not frightening at all! “And in her place,” The Woman continues tartly as she gathers up her things, “will be something ex-tremely dangerously.” She stands to leave, but Trick softly begs “Stella” (was that so hard, show?!) to stay. “I realize you’re in high demand,” he begins. With aggrieved pride, Stella reminds him that Fae seek her “guidance years in advance of The Dawning.” Trick hastily thanks her for coming to meet with him at such short notice (it’s implied) and his fawning appeases her for the moment. “She’s all I have left,” Trick adds with great emotion and Stella is not unmoved. She returns to her seat at the bar with deliberate motions to be sure Trick understands the favor she’s doing him. “Fetch me some tea,” she orders and, with a broad, grateful smile, Trick hastens to do so. “I’ll need to evaluate the subject,” Stella adds as she casually flips through her notes. She pauses and sneers upward. “But not amidst this horrible racket.” Trick hurries off to turn off the music and call Bo to heel.
At Hilton Hovel (drink!), alone in her bed (unusually so for this season), Bo sleeps fitfully. She struggles through a nightmare that interchanges between memories of when she killed Kyle, her first boyfriend, and images of a devolved Bo chewing on bloody bones that the Dreamweaver in episode 2 pulled from her future covered by a voiceover of her last conversation with her human mother. “You have the devil inside you, Beth! You’re a slut, a whore! You’re not my daughter! You never were!” Aw. Poor Bo Bo. As the image of her own eyes glowing blue fills her mind’s eye and the creature that used to be Bo turns around to confront her, Bo jerks awake to the insistent ringing cell phone next to her bed. At 2 AM, she’s not happy to have Trick waking her up, but reluctantly agrees to come down to The Dal (drink!), grumbling all the way.
In a now-empty Dal (drink!), Bo downs a cup of tea as Trick stands at her side, smiling proudly. “Chunky,” she quips and shoves the teacup across the table for Stella to read the leaves. “So what does it say? Will I meet a brave knight and marry all my problems away?” Heh. At least you got the brave knight part right...
Stella is not amused. “Why deny your fear, child?” “Because it’s scary,” Bo duhs back. Preach it. Trick clears his throat tellingly at her tone and attitude and with apology, Bo tries to dial back. “I’m just a little on edge, Miss—” she leads, angling for identification. “Stella Nashira,” Stella introduces herself tightly. “And a Lodestar’s work cannot be rushed,” she schools. Trick steps in to explain that Stella has “given guidance to hundreds of our kind as they prepared for The Dawning.” He looks at Stella and can’t help from smiling at her without inhibition. Stella, though, is focused on Bo. “You harbor great rage. And great regret,” she adds thoughtfully after a pause. “These two negatives are making it very hard for you to know yourself. Embrace your true identity.” Bo doesn’t like this and rudely snarks that everyone has hang-ups.
Stella addresses Trick to explain that the “blockage” can usually be traced back to a childhood imprint by a parental source, which immediately gets Bo’s back up about people like Stella always blaming Mommy issues for everything. “OK, look, Aoife and I, we had—problems—but—um—we worked them out with good old fashioned hand-to-hand combat.” Good times. But Stella pings on how Bo calls her mother by her first name. “Did Aoife not raise you?” Trick explains the crib notes version of Bo’s parental history. He moves around the table to stand by Stella as he speaks, visually aligning with her for this next bit. “Aoife is Bo’s natural mother and she and her adopted mother, Mary, also had a falling out.”
“Twice the mommies; twice the baggage,” Bo snarks, in a failed attempt to hide the pain this trip down memory alley has caused her. Stella insists that Bo must confront the source of her estrangement. Bo vehemently objects. “Your anger is hurting you,” Stella announces. “She hurt me,” Bo bites back. “You have to go home, Bo,” Stella concludes definitively. “You must forgive.” But Bo isn’t having any. “Like hell I do,” she growls. She gets to her feet and agrees that she will do whatever it takes to survive The Dawning. “But I will not spend one more minute with that ignorant warped bigot!” I don’t remember a past episode painting Bo’s human mother with such a harsh brush. I thought too that after she killed Kyle, Bo bugged out without seeing or talking to anyone, least of all her parents. I know they’ve been described as simple, conservative “folk,” but ignorant bigots seem to be something harshly new. Maybe it’s just me.
Trick softly and emotionally reminds her that if she doesn’t do this, “you’ll devolve into an UnderFae.” With her nightmare so recent a reminder of what that will look like, his words give Bo pause—but they’re not enough. “Then let’s hope it’s a nice cage.”
Back at Hilton Hovel (drink!), Bo stands before her mirror buttoning her vest and tells Doctor Lauren that what Trick and Stella are asking her to do is out of the question. On the bed, fully dressed, Doctor Lauren peruses her iPad. Clearly there have been no evident consequences or repercussions to their relationship for the doc’s disbelief of Bo in the last episode. Shocking. Bo insists that there has to be another way. “Oh, I could use some off your patented nerdness right now,” she confesses. But while the doc hates to say it, “this is one of those cases where your ‘Faeness’ trumps my ‘nerdness’.” By my count, that’s most of her cases, but whatever. Doctor Lauren can only treat Bo’s symptoms. Climbing onto the bed, Bo whines that she can’t go back there, but the doc says it’s a shame to miss the Cherry Festival. She displays her iPad to show the web site for the Grimly County Cherry Festival. Bo can’t believe the doc Googled her hometown.
In a more sober frame of mind, Doctor Lauren says she knows that Bo left home because of what happened with Kyle. Bo gets sad faced. “If there had been just some understanding, you know? Someone to talk to…” The doc counsels that “they” were simple people. Those simple people managed a pretty slick Cherry Festival web site there. “Try not to blame them for their ignorance,” she suggests. Bo chides her for defending “them.” “My mother cast me out like I was some kind of deviant.” While the doc agrees she can’t know how difficult this is for Bo, she also agrees that it could be Bo’s only hope. Bo considers it for a moment and then grouses that it’s a five hour drive, but this is only a tacit objection. The doc offers to go with her, “you’re practically insane anyway, you can’t go by yourself,” she jokes, but while Bo laughs a little, she (thankfully) declines the offer, stating that the doc needs to stay and do some “hard core doctoring” as a backup. “Besides, I know someone else who could use a road trip.” Hey! Looks who’s finally decided to remember her best friend! Doctor Lauren sincerely asks after Kenzi. “With every new wig comes another brave face,” Bo describes. The doc quietly asks if “we” know yet why the kitsune targeted Kenzi. “We” do, yes, it’s because Kenzi had her mojo from the visit to The Norn…but wait, what’s this? Bo hesitates, then looks away, and says no, “and I didn’t ask, she’s still—” Ah, she’s yet to tell Doctor Lauren what she and Tamsin learned from the kitsune at the college. Interesting. Who’s lying now, sweetie? With sympathy, the doc quickly agrees even as Bo continues to frown at her with distrust.
Doctor Lauren pulls up her case and extracts three injections. She tells Bo the formula will “inhibit cell degradation by freezing the UnderFae cells that are trying to takeover rendering them temporarily sterile. If you feel yourself starting to lose control, inject yourself.” Bo thinks even if she had to inject her eyeball it would sound better than talking to her mother. Ignoring this, the doc insists that the injections be used for emergencies only as they are the only three left and when Bo asks why she can’t make more, the doc admits that “the formula produces diminishing returns. With every injection it’ll work a little bit less.” They kiss and Bo tells the doc to wish her luck and leaves.
Back at The Dal (drink!), Trick comes out from the keg room. Across the room, Dyson enters The Dal (drink!) at the same moment and the two men match movements to meet mid center of the bar. Agitated, Dyson doesn’t even bother with ‘hello’ but immediately confronts Trick about Bo. “I don’t understand why you’re letting her go,” Dyson says roughly. Trick insists that Bo has to go. “I can’t just sit by and watch her lose everything, Trick!” Dyson shouts. He takes a minute. “I can’t lose Bo ag—” He barely catches himself before he reveals all, but it’s already too late. Trick looks Dyson up and down and sighs. “When did you get it back?” Dyson tries one last time to avoid this confession with a casual “What?” Trick raises his brows. “Your love, Dyson,” he says more sharply, all don’t play dumb with me, young whippersnapper! Dyson hesitates. “Bo has (Doctor) Lauren now,” he non-answers quietly, a wealth of sadness and resolve in his voice. Trick says, “(Doctor) Lauren’s human. Their relationship can only be…” he looks away and grimaces again as he searches for a word other than ‘temporary’, “…short-term.”
Trick’s seen a lot in his time; this isn’t the first Fae/human relationship he’s observed before for sure. Sure, any of them could become “short-term” in an instant. Dyson, Trick, Hale—any of them could be killed tomorrow (that’s NOT a suggestion, show!). But the odds are much greater that Bo will out-live her human lover, and that inevitability will inevitably weigh on their relationship. Trick knows this. Dyson knows it too.
But Dyson is in full beautiful dumbass mode, old-world nobility front and center. “So, in the short-term, I am not going to interfere.” I enjoy how formal his language gets when talking about Important Things. He leans against the bar, as though releasing the weight of his secret to someone else has drained him. “I love Bo too much to screw it up again,” he says. HALLELUJAH! People, we FINALLY have confirmation!! Also, sigh. ‘Bout damn time, show.
“Those feelings aren’t just something you can make go away,” Trick warns. “‘Less you want to book another meeting with The Norn (Freaking Norn!).” But Dyson has no intention of mucking about with his love again. “These feelings will never go away,” he vows quietly with a small, melancholy smile. “Not for me.” Trick, seeing the truth in Dyson’s face, realizes there’s nothing more to be said. He spreads his arms wide and smiles broadly. “How are we having this conversation without booze?!” Oh, that is SUCH a good question! Everybody drink! This show giveth with one hand and taketh away with—erm—five other hands that sprout Kali-like from various spots on its torso. Hey, at this point, I’m not putting anything past these people.
Trick pats a thoughtful Dyson on the arm and heads behind the bar to set them up with shots of the good stuff. “Her guide,” Dyson calls, getting back on point, “the Lodestar?” Trick puts glasses on the bar and, smiling now for a very different reasons, assures Dyson that Stella is the best. “Quite the looker too.” Aw, Trickster is smitten! You are overdue on that front, my man. “Don’t worry,” he assures a clearly worrying Dyson, “Bo will make it through this.” He finishes pouring and lifts the shot. “There will be a long-term,” he says pointedly and with conviction. Dyson raises his brow, catching Trick’s meaning. “Promise?” “Just do your shot,” Trick chides with the long-familiarity of an old friend. They clink glasses and drink, but Dyson is still angsty…for both Bo’s short and long term situations. I knew Trick was on Team Badass! I mean, the guy is happy if his granddaughter is happy, but despite his grouchy attitude in the past, he seems to now see what’s best long-term for everyone. Many of his previous objections toward their relationship were due to his own machinations and uncertainties regarding Bo, much of which have been since resolved. Nice to see him supporting and encouraging Dyson toward her for a change. Maybe he’s finally realized having his granddaughter hooked with the man who has been his closest confidant and champion for years is awfully nice and neat for all.
Out in the bright light of day, with cheery tunes cranked up loud, Bo and Kenzi race down the road in— hey! It’s the succmobile!! Hel-lo lady!! The top is down on the succmobile, and Kenzi waves her arms in the air as they power down the road and Bo voiceovers that she’s going to forgive that “holier-than-thou witch” who raised her that she forgives her and “peel home, and waltz right past The Threshold.” Kenzi adds that if Bo goes crazy, “I just needle your butt. No problemo.” As the car speeds past the camera, Bo and Kenzi both self combust under the stress of actually being out in bright sunlight for more than the 30 seconds it usually takes to get from the car into The Dal (drink!). Plus, didn’t we already exhaust the one-episode-per-season allotment with Dyson’s rooftop adventures and Bo and Tamsin’s forest hike? There must be some rift in the Fae continuum for this one.
They pull into the Grimley Gas Station where Kenzi wrestles with the ancient gas pump as super powered Bo lounges against the succmobile and watches. “With everything that’s been happening, we haven’t had much chance to talk,” Bo says. “Pepperoni stinks and one pint of candy corn, The Kenzi is awesome,” Kenzi quips. “Bloated but awesome.” She forces the hose into the gas tank. “Go! Come on, pump! Gas me!” Hee. All too casually, Bo brings up Kenzi’s once-upon-a-Fae rash. “You ever find out how you got it?”
“Go in your hole!” Kenzi orders the gas pump. Snicker. What?! Out of nowhere, a stranger is suddenly beside Kenzi. “Can I help you with that, ma’am?” he asks, startling her. Out of sorts, Kenzi looks between him and Bo. “I seem to have attracted the attention of country folk,” she mutters to Bo through her teeth. The gas attendant proceeds to hook the pump up to the succmobile as Kenzi gives him a wide berth. “Perhaps of the bumpkin variety,” she adds with a little nasty as she eyes him skeptically. Hey, the guy’s pumping your gas, Kenz. Be nice. Bo chuckles but then the attendant recognizes her—“Beth? Beth Dennis?”—and gives it his full local yokel “hoo whee” inflection. It takes a minute for Bo to similarly recognize “Dougie.” She hugs him awkwardly.
“You—you two—know each other?” Kenzi asks, beginning to get entertained. Bo hesitantly says that Dougie and she were friends in high school. “It’s Doug now,” he corrects her without malice and adds that nobody ever thought they’d see “Beth” around there again. “Beth?” Kenzi scoffs but then catches Bo look and clues in, “Beth! Yes!” Doug awkwardly expositions that they caught the guy who killed Kyle so, “whoo hoo! I mean, I’m not celebrating the murder. Dude died right in front of you. Just that they caught the guy.” But Bo understands he’s trying to be nice. “It was a long time ago,” she allows. “A lot has changed since then, including my name. I’m Bo now.” Doug guess she’s there for the cherry fest and to see the “old gang,” but Bo quickly says she there only for personal business. “I’ll be gone before the Pie-Off.” Kenzi’s radar immediately freaks out. “PIE-OFF?” she whispers to Bo and when her bestie looks at her, Kenzi mouths “OH MY GOD!” as Doug obliviously natters on at how the whole area has hit the skids since Bo left. “It’s just like one string of bad luck after another.” ANVIL ALERT. “And of course, there’s the accident,” he adds. Bo: “Accident?” Kenzi: “Not the pies!” HA!
Doug updates them as to Brad’s fate and when Kenzi asks that Bo tell her “Brad” isn’t a cow, Bo clarifies that Brad was Mr. Popular high-school quarterback and he and Dougie, “Doug,” she corrects with a smile at the man, were not exactly bros. Doug confirms that Brad used to pick on Dougie’s head. “But that was eons ago; that Dougie’s gone. Just like Brad.” He doesn’t seem too broken up about it, but Bo has stopped listening as she falls into one of her blue-eyed spells. An image of her UnderFae transformation pops in her head and she collapses against the succmobile. Is it wrong that I kinda dig UnderFae Bo’s little horns? Kenzi catches her and Bo makes the excuse that her weakness is due to too much driving. At Kenzi’s suggestion, she goes off to splash some water on her face. “Cleanest pissers in Grimly County!” Doug assures Bo. “Yeah Bo,” Kenzi snarks. “You don’t want to miss the pissers!” As Bo leaves, Doug hits on Kenzi and the camera pans up past the station to show Shaxée standing in the middle of the road watching them all. That’s not creepy.
The succmobile pulls up to a small country house. Kenzi jumps out, but Bo just stares at her childhood home and wonders if she should’ve just written a letter. “Dude!” Kenzi shouts, stalking around the front of the car. “You have taken on The Morrigan. Your old lady should be child’s play!” Bo yells that her mother taught her she was evil. “Now I’m supposed to tell her it’s okay?” Kenzi follows her across the lawn. “It’s called being the bigger person. Which reminds me, I want to scarf down like 20 pies on the way home.” But Bo doesn’t want to be the bigger person. “I am so sick of being the bigger person.” Oh honey, do I know how you feel! “That bitch in there has said things to me that echo inside my head, they scratch away at the inside of my brain every single night when I’m trying to fall asl—OW!” she shouts as Kenzi jabs her in the ass with one of the injections. Wounded (literally!), she looks at Kenzi. “What the hell?” she asks, demonstrably calmer than a moment ago. “I ass-provised!” Kenzi chirps. HA! “Oh, was that not one of your monster fits?” she asks as she realizes that she might have misjudged the sitch. “You seemed really angry!” she exclaims in defense. “God did I just waste one of these?” she asks, recapping the needle. “Not if you wanted to help me refocus my rage,” Bo quips pointedly. Kenzi tells her she’s welcome. “Now, get your head in the game! It’s time to face the Mom music.” Bo reluctantly agrees. “But then we get the hell outta here, right?” Kenzi: “Does a horse shit in a barn? No seriously, is that where they poop?” HAHA! She shrugs when Bo gives her an are you serious? look. “Just keep the car running,” Bo moans. Kenzi goes off to do so but as Bo reluctantly approaches the house, Kenzi drops the supportive attitude and her fear shows through.
Bo pauses in front of the door and then knocks hard. As she peers through the window, a woman comes up the side of the house. “Over here,” Bo’s mother calls with a smile as she climbs up the steps. She drops the basket of laundry into a chair as she recognizes Bo. “Oh. Beth? Oh finally!” She hurries over to embrace a stunned Bo. “You’ve finally come home! I’ve missed you so much!” Mouth agape, Bo stands still in her mother’s arms. “Mama?” Slowly she wraps her arms around her mother for the first time in 10 years. Aw.
Inside Bo’s childhood home, Bo, Mary, and Kenzi sit at the dining room table as Mary hastily rolls out dough for a pie, all upset that Beth has finally come home and here “I did not have a crumb of a pie for you and your new friend.” “Yeah. Your moms. What a bitch,” Kenzi snark whispers to Bo. “She used to be,” Bo murmurs back. She’s wearing an apron over her leather vest and standard dark clothes. The juxtaposition of Kenzi and her dark wardrobe, makeup and general, if usual, appearance is quite striking over the bright, gingham-heavy colors of country life. Bo’s face is the picture of confusion. She braced for a confrontation with Holy Hannah and got Susie Sunshine instead.
There are pictures all over the house of a young Anna Silk Bo/Beth. Bo tells her mom she didn’t give her any warning as Kenzi snags fruit from the bowl. Mary asks Kenzi if she goes to Grimley High too. “Um— no,” Kenzi mumbles around the food. Bo steps in to say that Kenzi isn’t from around there and she, Bo, has been away for a long time. “That’s what your father always says!” Mary says cheerily. “Said,” she corrects immediately, sobering. “Said,” she repeats deliberately. “He’s gone now.” And Bo has absolutely no reaction to the news that her father is dead. Maybe she already knew? “Your Aunt Bea always says that I keep getting confused and I should write things down.” With a gentle hand on Bo’s elbow, Kenzi directs her to look past Mary to the china cabinet where a buffet of prescription medications are lined up.
Bo gently asks if Mary remembers why she left. “Well, you were lost,” Mary answers with childlike certainty. “And the Lord helped you find your way back.” She realizes she forgot the rhubarb and leaps up from the table. “What happened to the forgiveness so we can get back to the monster-proofing training junk?!” Kenzi take the opportunity to ask. But Bo is stunned at the realization that Mary doesn’t even remember what happened between them. Kenzi suggests she remind her mother, but Bo doesn’t want to break Mary’s heart again. “Two minutes ago, you wanted to break her face,” Kenzi reminds her. Bo picks up one of the many photos of her young self. “Hello Time Warp. It’s like some kind of Beth shrine.” Toldja. “Well,” Kenzi snarks as she snatches up a scrap book, “at least it’s not creepy.” It’s way creepy.
They reminisce darkly about who Bo was—“the perfect daughter” “underneath the crimped hair”— and about the night Bo “ruined it all.” Kenzi finds clippings of Kyle’s murder and reads the salient parts of the article aloud. Not that Bo doesn’t know all that happened having actually been there. Bo posits that Mary must have kept the clipping for a reason and Kenzi thinks the reason is because Mary is loca in la cabesa. “I think the medical term is dementia,” Bo snits. “Sorry—small towns make me nervous,” Kenzi apologizes in a whisper. Bo wonders what harm it would do to write another chapter in Beth’s book, “on my terms, not hers.” “Trick and (Doctor) Lauren will kill me if I don’t have you home tout de suite!”
Mary hurries in, “where is my mind?” That’s the question of the hour, ma’am. She insists that “you children” must go to the Cherry Fest and some of Beth’s old friends, but not before they change out of their ‘city clothes.’ “It is hot as the Devil’s own oven out there. Besides, people will stare.” She says it so sweetly, it’s almost hard to take offense. Almost. Bo says they didn’t bring any clothes, but Mary reminds her she has lots of pretty dresses upstairs. “And your friend can borrow one—and maybe some sensible footwear.” Kenzi gasps and grabs her midriff as though Mary just punched her in the belly. “What is this place?” she whispers in horror. Hee. Bo just turns her around and marches her out the door. “You said you wanted to have some fun.” Kenzi: “A country makeover. Gee, I can’t wait.”
Down at the Cherry Fest, Bo has not only donned a red gingham strapless sundress, she’s even added a matching bow (heh) to her hair. Kenzi is in a pure white, eyelet sundress that is so—just—not Kenzi. Also, I really don’t like her hair in this episode. While the razor-sharp bangs accentuate her gorgeous eyes, they also add the “bugged out” look to them, and it’s bugging (heh) me. Bo wears espadrilles and Kenzi —shut the front door—is wearing flats. “I feel like I’ve been dipped in Amish,” Kenzi grouses. “Own it, Laura Ingalls,” Bo teases, mixing up her country metaphors, but whatever. They walk past a trio of young girls playing Double Dutch and chanting. “When you feel the burning sun, Lady Polly has her fun. How many children will she slay?” They start to count off. “Cute song,” Kenzi quips and then asks why the girls are trying to trip each other. “Double Dutch,” Bo identifies with a laugh. “You’re shitting me! I thought that was only on Wii!” Of course Hilton Hovel (drink!) has Wii!
They’re greeted by a bitter blonde with dark roots and a black suit she clearly thinks defines professional city wear. Ah, no. Bo and Jessica exchange barbs. Jessica thinks Bo’s been in witness protection; Bo wonders if Jessica still lives up on the hill. “Try Chicago,” Jessica snits. “Holla!” Kenzi exclaims. “What’s with Debbie Gibson?” Jessica asks Bo. Ha. “Sharhona,” Kenzi introduces herself, sticking out her hand. “Hi. Pleasure’s all mine,” she twangs. She asks if Bo and Jessica are old “chewing tobacco pals” and Jessica bitterly wonders if you can call someone a pal if she beats you three years running for Miss Cherry Blossom. “Oh my. Did you get to wear a sash?” Kenzi asks Bo with interest. “No,” Bo says definitively. Jessica goes on that by the time “Beth” “popped those boobs” all the guys in the county were sniffing after her. “I was a late bloomer—but I’m over it,” Jessica insists. Kenzi grins knowingly. “Sure are.”
Jessica’s not done updating this total stranger about “Beth’s” youthful past. “The little tease strung them all along—they’d do anything for her.” Who talks to people this way? “Except Brad,” she adds and tears up. “He was always mine.” Brad who was bringing his fiancée home—who wasn’t you. Oh yeah, totally yours. Always and forever. Bo tells the crying Jessica that she’s so sorry about Brad. Jessica goes on about how she saw on Facebook that Brad was coming down to the festival and hoped to run into him. “I starved myself – I lost six pounds!” Bo says she can tell. “It’s really too bad he got crushed by a car,” Kenzi chirps thoughtlessly and Bo gives her a will you shut up?! look. “What, it is?” Kenzi replies. With a frown at Kenzi, Jessica admits that Brad’s gone to a better place, “unlike the rest of this country. Has it always been so creepy?”
Bo chuckles. “Yeah, with the gorgeous sunshine and the scent of cherry blossom? God, it is even more beautiful than I remember.” Jessica gives her the patented are you crazy? stare. “Oh—you were serious,” Bo realizes. “Of course.” Kenzi points out “in less depressing news” that they ran into Jessica’s and Bo’s old friend Doug. She waves and calls out to Doug who is skulking next to a tree right behind Jessica and awkwardly waves back. Jessica thinks he’s still such a creep. “Coming back here was such a mistake!” Bo agrees that she’s had just about all the nostalgia she can take and Kenzi jumps right on that. “Well, Bo Bo why don’t we go go have a chat chat with your mom mom,” who will likely want to wake you up up before you go go too. Jessica eyes Kenzi. “God, you are so weird.” Kenzi, flatly and with a death look for Jessica: “Thank you.” Ha! But Jessica is clueless as to her imminent danger. “Reminds me of that girl who used to sniff glue in chem class.” Kenzi begins to make ugly faces and mimic Jessica as, with a sigh, Bo nudges her past the obnoxious blonde. “Jessica that was you.”Jessica looks around the happy Cherry Fest. “I hate this place.”
Back at the home front, Bo and Kenzi arrive to find Mary hanging clothes on the line—likely the same clothes she just took off the line when Bo arrived a few hours earlier. “Okay—you two have your Mom-ment,” Kenzi instructs. “I will grab your clothes…and my dignity.” Mary is pleased to see Bo back and offers to feed her and Kenzi, but even in her dementia, she can see that Bo is upset about something and rambles to a stop. Bo asks if Mary remembers the night she left, “the night that Kyle died?” Uncomfortable, Mary fidgets with the laundry. It’s clear she remembers, but trying to pull that memory out causes her great distress. “You said some things to me that really hurt,” Bo pushes as Mary continues to brush at the sheets. “Mom!” Bo shouts, grabbing Mary’s arm. The sky goes instantly dark and the wind picks up, blowing the sheets…and revealing Shaxée behind them in the yard. Bo doesn’t see the UnderFae. “Do you understand what I’m trying to say to you?” she asks her mother. Mary looks very disturbed, but then she sees Shaxée. “Is that another friend of yours, dear?” she asks but without her earlier animation.
Bo sees Shaxée as the increased brightness of the sun blazes in her eyes. “That would be a no,” she says, and steps in front of her mother. Shaxée steps up too, and raises the sickle in her hand. Bo picks up a nearby hoe. “Hey lady? What’s your deal?” She swings the hoe at Shaxée who does her puff of smoke disappearing trick. Kenzi, dressed again in her “city clothes” (that is one damn fine quick change skillz there), hurries up, Bo’s clothes in hand. “What the hell was that thing?!”
It’s all too much for Mary’s fragile state. She too hurries over in front of Bo—but this time to attack. “Just look at what your filthy fornication has brought down on this house!” Mary snarls. Her face is contorted with fear and hate. Bo is stunned and can barely form words. “I told you to stay away, you devil child. You bring nothing but pain and sorrow! I want you gone! I want you out of my house!”
Bo drops the hoe and runs off to the succmobile, Kenzi hot on her heels. Okay, honestly? It looks like a prancing, almost a flittering-through-the-meadow sort of thing. It’s weird. And distracting. “It is all my fault. It has always been my fault,” Bo cries. Kenzi: “What is your fault?!” Bo collapses against the succmobile and then climbs in, ignoring Kenzi’s repeated calls for explanation. “Do not Dukes of Hazard on me!” But Bo shoves Kenzi off the car door and streaks away.
Back at The Dal (drink!), Trick is on the phone with a frantic Kenzi who is describing Shaxée. Kenzi’s tinny voice comes through Trick’s antique phone. “This was supposed to be a simple in and out mommy make up mission.” “Has Bo buried the hatchet with her mother?” Trick asks intently. Kenzi says Bo tried, “but then gross nightie lady tried to bury her sickle in Bo’s face.” Trickopedia flips a page in the book he’s perusing to reveal a page dedicated to Poludnica and tells Kenzi it sounds like they’re dealing with “one mean UnderFae: Poludnica.” Phone Voice Kenzi: “Gee, I wonder why that name isn’t more popular.” Trick explains that the locals sometimes call Poludnica Lady Polly and Kenzi pings on the Double Dutch litany. “Hey, did you know that Double Dutch is real?!”
Trick ignores her to continue that Polly’s MO is causing accidents when the heat and the glare of midday disorients her victims. Kenzi: “You mean like getting smushed by a car while changing your tire?” Trick confirms that would be right up Lady Polly’s alley. “When Bo finds out she unleashed Polly on the town by succubusting Kyle, she’s gonna succu-plotz, Trick!” Kenzi worries. But Trick says that’s impossible. “Kyle’s death was merely a Fae feed.” Oh, well that’s okay then! Yeesh. “Polly can only be awakened by humans and released amidst fire and brimstone.” Kenzi sits down to flip through the scrapbook and wonders who then summoned Polly. Trick thinks it’s likely the same people Polly is killing just as Kenzi lands on an old article about a well fire. She realizes that Bo’s old classmates have all been returning home to be killed. “Poludnica can’t stray from county lines,” Trick assures Kenzi. “She’s bound to the land.” Yeah, we’ve heard that before. “But if she kills the humans who summoned her from the ground...” “Tornado Tits can flee this one-horse town, yeah,” Kenzi concludes. She notes that Trick said “summoned from the land” and wonders if “summoned from the well” would apply. “Sure,” Trick confirms. “Polly’s an elemental. She could be trapped in water.”
Trick orders Kenzi not to let Bo get distracted. “She needs to forgive her mother and get back here!” Kenzi hears him loud and clear. “I just have to—find her.” Trick: “You lost Bo?!” Kenzi rambles off a stream of “No- I’m- on-it-missing-the-cow-tipping-I’m-so-sorry-thank-you-bye!” Kenzi rattles off and hangs up what looks to be a matched set to Trick’s phone. Upset but unable to do anything about it, Trick disconnects. Meanwhile, Kenzi grabs Mary’s keys and heads out.
Down at the Cherry Fest, a drunk Bo is downing samples of cherry wine in plastic cups. She asks for more and the poor guy manning the booth says “ma’am, these are just samples.” Bo informs him that she was Miss Cherry Blossom three years over. “More,” she demands and bangs on the table when he hesitates. “Now!” Kenzi plops down next to her as the guy pours more wine. “There you are!” Bo: “In the flesh.” Kenzi: “And on the sauce. Great.” Without looking at her, Bo grits out that she’s so angry. “And itchy!” She sways in place. “And everything smells so overpowering.” Kenzi’s eyes widen. “Uh oh.” “I’m hungry,” Bo growls and her eyes go neon blue. Hilariously, Kenzi clutches her purse against her chest, covering herself, basically clutching her metaphoric pearls. “And cherry pie ain’t gonna cut it,” Bo snarls. “Hmm, look at ‘em all. Horny corn-fed farm boys. Buxom milk maids.” Kenzi glances at Bo’s cleavage. “I think you’re projecting.” Ha! “I wanna taste ‘em all,” Bo whispers in a frightening voice.
Kenzi jumps into cock-blocked mode and pounds the table to get Bo’s attention. “Hey! You’re changing, Okay! You gotta fight it!” But Bo is in full-on pity mode. “I’m not changing into a monster! I’ve always been one!” she cries. “I’ve done so many terrible things—so many terrible things!—and that is why The Dawning is happening to me so soon!” Seeing that Bo is losing it, Kenzi decides that she’s just gonna “perch here yonder” so they can talk and distracts Bo by nattering on about this one time she and her best friend went on this road trip? “and, hoo, let me tell you, it was—HI YAH!” she screams and, leaning back, she slams the second injection into Bo’s ass. “OW!” Bo hollers. Kenzi pops back upright. “Oh I’m sorry!” she whispers sincerely. “I’m sorry, again,” she adds capping the needle. But this time, Bo thanks her and immediately looks more her usual self.
Kenzi points out they have one shot left, but that she has good news. She pulls out the clipping and explains about Lady Polly and the well and the fire summoning and how Bo’s first Fae kill feed was not responsible for releasing the UnderFae on the town. “Well House burned,” she quotes. “That’s probably how they released her!” But as Bo reads the clipping, she tearfully admits that she was there at the well fire. Horrified to have made the situation worse, Kenzi retrieves the clipping. “Okay, I’ll just put that away. More wine for the lady, please,” she calls to the booth guy. Always a good plan.
In a calmer state, Bo and Kenzi walk through the Cherry Fest. Bo explains that Dougie was going through his occult phase. You know, for someone who’s so keen everyone acknowledging you as “Bo” you’re being awful rude about returning that same respect to Doug. Doug believed that he could communicate with the local legend, the supposed boogie woman of the countryside. “Lady Polly,” Kenzi confirms. Bo recalls that Doug led them through a séance at the old well house. “Brad, Jessica, Kyle, and me. But nothing happened! It didn’t work!” “Obviously it worked!” Kenzi points out. Bo muses that they’d lit some candles and must have let one burning. “Later that night, I was with Kyle and I never thought about the séance again.” Kenzi: “So killing your boyfriend was the second shittiest thing you did that night,” Bo objects strongly. “I’m sorry,” Kenzi immediately apologizes. “Wow. That’s not helping.” She tells Bo earnestly that she has enough on her plate. “Can you just forget about saving the county? Save yourself!” Ah, but then there’d be no show.
Bo is certain there has to be a way to get rid of “that midday bitch” and Kenzi reveals that Trick said that only those who summoned Poll-ski can send her back. Bo goes to find Jessica and sends Kenzi after “Dougie.” Kenzi: “Gas station roundup. Got it.” Bo tells her to meet her and Jessica at the well. “If we’re all together I can keep us safe and lure Polly back.” “Like bait?” Kenzi asks, somewhat wary and Bo says yes, if Kenzi is up for it. They high-five it and split up. But when Bo finds Jessica, she’s lost the badly structured suit jacket and is sitting at a picnic table, mid-pie, staring straight ahead at nothing. Bo swats her on the back and finally dislodges a cherry pit from Jessica’s throat, but the damage is done. Jessica falls face-first into a pie…dead. As she does, Polly is revealed to be lurking in the background. Bo calls for help as the sky goes dark and the wind picks up. She turns to confront Polly. “Fine. Fire and brimstone it is.”
At the gas station, Doug has his head under the hood of a truck when Kenzi pops out of Mary’s pickup truck. “Paging the Lord of the Bumpkins!” she announces. Doug greets Kenzi with considerable less warmth than before. “I thought you and Bo were going home.” Kenzi says they have some business to take care of, but Doug is adamant that they shouldn’t be there. “Okay, how do I say this in Farm Speak?” Kenzi wonders. “Ah, minor Tornado Lady issue? We’ve got a date with a burned down well house.” But, quite upset now, Doug claims that he warned them, “I told you to leave!” When was that again now? “Why didn’t you listen to me?!” he yells in Kenzi’s face, backing her up a step. “Whoa,” she objects. “Don’t go all Children of the Corn on me, Dougie.” “It’s DOUG!” he shouts. “Dougie’s dead! And if we’re going to get rid of Lady Polly,” he stresses more calmly, “we’re going to have to give her a sacrifice.” Kenzi immediately nominates Dougie. “He’s dead anyways,” but Doug shoots back that this isn’t a joke. It’s here that Doug manages to do what few before him have been able to accomplish—he’s stunned Kenzi into momentary silence.
He stalks back to the truck as Kenzi gets her bearings. “You knew that Lady Polly escaped the well and was killing people?” Doug admits that he’s been trying to get rid of her for almost ten years. “I invoked her during a teenage Goth stage,” he says, clearly exasperated with his younger self. Now Kenzi is amused. “You were Goth, here?” Doug snaps that he had to go two towns over to get his favorite guyliner. Hey, he’s like Vex’s country cousin!! Kenzi can’t wrap her head around why Doug wouldn’t tell anybody about Polly. “People are dying!” But Doug is well aware. “After Kyle died, everyone left town. I thought it was over, that Lady Polly couldn’t get to them. No matter how much she taunted me, they were safe.” So this poor guy’s been willingly enduring the abuse of a wretched UnderFae in order to protect the people who made his life miserable as a teenager? You can stay, Doug. Hell, you need to bunk down at Hilton Hovel (drink!)!
Kenzi gets it. “Oh Dougie,” she says in sympathy. Okay, she gets some of it. Doug admits that Lady Polly tried to get him to lure the others home, but he refused to do it. “But now they’re coming home—and Brad’s dead! And Jessica and Beth are next!” Kenzi emphatically reminds him that Beth is Bo now. “Trust me, that makes all the difference.”
The wind machines crank up and the light filter changes to grayscale, so it must be midday. Kenzi notices the changing atmospheric pressure and looks over at the field just as Lady Polly poufs into view. “SHIT!” she shouts. “LP came to the party early!” They are really working those wind machines over good! Doug shouts that they can lose her in the field and takes off. “Oh great!” Kenzi shouts after him. “Nothing bad ever happens in the field! Wait up!” HA!
Over at the well house, Bo traces hers and Kyle’s initials that they carved into a heart on the wooden lid that covers the well. Jessica and Brad’s initials are likewise carved on the other side. Bo lifts the lid on creaking hinges as Doug and Kenzi hurry over. “Where’s Jessica?” Doug demands. “We need three of us!” You had five the last time, so whys that again now? Bo explains that Lady Polly staged another “accident.” “Poor Jessica choked on a cherry.” Doug is not happy. “P.S. Senorita Shitstorm is hot on our heels,” Kenzi informs Bo. Doug worries that they need to stop the spirit of Lady Polly before she kills again. “This whole thing is my fault!” Bo latches onto the familiar words and asks what he’s talking about. “Back in high school, after the séance, all you guys coupled up and you left me alone. And I—I knew I could connect with the paranormal.” “Paranormal?” Kenzi repeats. “Don’t you mean para-weird?” Doug goes on that he had his occult book and the candles and “I burnt a copy of Antichrist Superstar as an offering.” Kenzi is appalled and offended. “You sacrificed Superstar?! Dude, Marilyn Manson is a god!”
“I kicked the candle over!” Doug shouts back at her. “So what?” Bo asks. “I burnt down the building,” Doug yells guiltily. “I released her!” Bo insists that it was an accident. “She is the one killing people for fun. She is the one who is evil!” Glad you think so, because “she” is standing right there. The wind machines crank up to Hurricane Sandy levels, the filter changes again to grayscale, and Bo turns around to find Lady Polly barely holding her ground, sickle in hand. Bo brushes her hair out of her face. “Look who just blew in,” she murmurs. “She blows, all right,” Kenzi agrees. Doug leaps in front of them and demands that Lady Polly leave Bo alone. “I’ll be your sacrifice.” Seriously, Bo, break out the cot for this poor guy. (And what is with the cot taking up space in her bedroom? Advanced potential orgy planning?)
Bo grabs “Dougie” by the arm. Sigh. “You were just a kid. You didn’t know what you were doing. It wasn’t your fault!” ANVIL ALERT. Doug shakes her off and steps up to Lady Polly, who whacks him in the head with the sickle’s handle. “Prepare to die,” she says to Bo in a modified, auto-tuned voice. “And here I was prepared to kick your tattered ass,” Bo snarks back. Fighting ensues and by “fighting” I mean Bo dodges the sickle several times and then falls to the ground. “You will be my greatest accident!” Lady Polly mwah ha has. But Bo’s eyes are glowing neon blue now. “Kenzi!” she calls to where Kenzi kneels next to an unconscious Doug. “Ass-provise.” Kenzi digs out the last shot and tosses it over. As Lady Polly lunges for Bo with her sickle, Bo dodges again and thrusts the needle into the back of Lady Polly’s neck.
I guess the injection is meant to bring Lady Polly back enough from the UnderFae edge to be defeatable. But wouldn’t Doctor Lauren code it to Bo’s DNA from that hair strand (cough plot device cough) she took from Bo last episode? Eh, whatever. Breathing heavily, both Fae and UnderFae struggle to their respective feet. “Your eyes,” Lady Polly struggles to observe, “they are like mine.” But Bo has reached her episodic epiphany. “I am Fae,” she acknowledges passionately. “But I am nothing like you. Sometimes, you just have to go home, whether you want to or not.” Bo tee-pee kicks Lady Polly back into the open well and as the UnderFae falls, screaming, the grayscale filter is removed and the wind machines power down. Bo and Kenzi lean over the edge of the well. “Nice kick,” Kenzi compliments. Together they hurry to get the lid closed. “I guess she wasn’t feeling very…well,” Kenzi puns. “Not feeling very well?” Bo stresses. “Oh sweetie.” Kenzi nods in acknowledgement of how beneath her that one was. “I’m still getting my mojo back,” she admits. Kenzi asks if Bo is okay and Bo helpfully remembers Doug’s unconscious state. “Is he?” They hurry back over, Kenzi calling “Dougie!” as Bo rouses him. He asks what happened. “We get her back into the well?” Bo: “Ain’t no celebrities going to be taking up that cause.” Ah—okay then. “Did I help?” he asks in a small voice. Bo and Kenzi each pat his arm and back. “We couldn’t have done it without ya…Doug,” Bo says sincerely and Kenzi high-fives him. “So what do you say we get out of Hicksville and I get you back to Trick—stat,” Kenzi suggests to Bo. But Bo has one thing left to do…
Back at the house, Mary is looking at Beth’s baby picture as though nothing has happened. Dressed again in her leathers, Bo enters the dining room and tentatively calls out to her mom. Mary looks up and smiles. “Beth. How was the Cherry Fest? Did you make a lot of new friends? People are always just falling in love with you, aren’t they?” You should swing by a FanExpo event some day. Happens there in double digits. Bo smiles warmly at her. She gets it now. “You don’t remember the last time you saw me, do you?” Mary insists that of course she remembers. “You and your new friend had just changed into your summer clothes. I’m old, but I’m not that old,” she jokes, and they both laugh.
Bo takes the seat across from Mary and quietly begins by saying there are a lot of things that she’s wanted to say to her mother over the years, and that it took her a long time to understand that the things she did when she was younger were beyond her control. “Yeah, I’ve made mistakes. I still do—a lot them. And I’m sorry,” she says. Mary insists that Bo doesn’t need to be sorry. “Oh, you are such a good girl.” Bo admits it’s strange to hear her mother call her that. “I am good, you know?” Mary gets teary and leans forward to cup her daughter’s cheek. “Aww. You always make everything better,” she says simply. She reminds Bo of the time in church when the butterfly came in through the window and landed on Bo’s hand, “and you tried to help it fly and it just couldn’t? You cried all day.” Bo can’t believe Mary remembers that but not what happened earlier in the day. “Your father and I tell each other that story all the time.” Bo’s smile drops as she realizes Mary has forgotten again that her father is dead.
“Mom, I know that you thought that the way you chose to raise me was right. I see that now. And when you screamed and yelled at me like I was evil, it’s because you didn’t really understand who I was. Neither did I. We were both scared.” Mary immediately reacts to her daughter’s fear. “Scared? No –no. You don’t need to be scared.”
Bo smiles and takes a deep, audible breath that masks the sound of Kenzi’s feet as she comes to stand on the threshold. “I have a family, Mama,” Bo says to Mary with a wide smile of joy. “And they love and protect me without question. That girl that I came here with? She’s like my sister.” Behind her, Kenzi smiles and ducks her head, easing back into the shadow. “When I’m with her,” Bo continues, “I know that everything’s going to be okay. And I found my grandfather, Mama. And guess what? He—oh, he cares about me.” Mary is crying, but smiles through the tears at the joy on Bo’s face as she talks about her Faemily. There’s some confusion there, but more understanding. “I don’t know what I’d do without him,” Bo confesses, “without any of them.” She shifts in her seat and leans toward Mary. “If you really knew me now,” she says, “you would be proud.” Mary’s expression shows that she’s already proud of her daughter. Bo’s voice breaks as she starts to cry. “I did good! And I don’t need to carry around those terrible memories anymore. I am done.” She puts her hand to her chest, and then her face, and then her neck as she feel the pain she’s lived with all this while. “I am done reliving them and reliving them and reliving them.” Anna Silk is just kicking it out of the park in these scenes. So sad and heartening at the same time.
In her confusion, Mary strives to offer Bo comfort. “But—Beth—your pies are so beautiful!” Bo takes her hand. “It’s okay,” she whispers. “This is how I’m gonna remember you, as the sweet woman who taught me to make the best pies.” And the shock of realization that Beth is leaving again brings Mary back for a moment. She is openly sobbing now. “You had a hard life too,” Bo acknowledges. Mary is barely able to nod. She flips back and forth between reason and dementia; the moment she figures out what’s happening she’s gone again. “I can’t hate you anymore,” Bo concludes. “And I’m done hating myself. I’m not the devil, Mama,” Bo assures her mother quietly. “I’m Fae,” she says firmly and then smiles beautifully. “I’m Bo.”
She stands up and leans over to kiss Mary’s cheek. “Goodbye, Mom.” Mary struggles to get out what she knows are the most important words she’ll ever say. “I love you too,” she manages on a shaky breath, “Bo.” Bo breaks down and has to cover her mouth to keep the sobs in before she turns away, back to Kenzi, back to the Fae world where she now belongs. The two younger women leave and as the door audibly shuts behind them, Mary looks down at the baby book again as a tear tracks down her cheek.
It’s beautifully done, start to finish, exceptional, lovely, heartbreaking work of the best kind from both women. Damn it, they made even my cynical recapper’s heart go all misty-eyed. And yet, as Bo and Kenzi exit, all I can think (as I sniff back my tears) is, you’re just leaving her there? The woman bakes pies but can’t even remember what decade she’s in! You cannot leave her there alone!
Dyson wanders into The Dal (drink!) calling for Trick. When he gets no response, he tosses his jacket on the bar and helps himself to a shot glass. Placing the glass down with a click, he pushes a button on the remote so that rock music blares through the bar and reaches over to grab a bottle of the good stuff. “No, no, no, no!” Tricks yells, distraught, as he hurries up from the back. “She requires silence!” Dyson flips off the music. “Who?” he asks. “Stella!” Trick explains, adding, “she’s on her way,” with a pleased half smile. Dyson looks beyond Trick’s shoulder to the entrance. “Actually, I think she’s just arrived.”
Trick whirls around to greet Stella. “Sorry for the racket,” he apologies without pausing for pleasantries. “I’ll have the bar cleared out in an instant.” Stella raises a haughty brow and glances around the empty bar. She asks if Bo has returned and Trick assures her that Bo is on her way as they speak. Behind them, Dyson has sized Stella up in a quick instant…and in increasingly amused at the scene unfolding before him. “Good,” Stella chirps. “Let’s—ah—prepare for her test.” She tosses her stole into Trick’s face...who doesn’t mind one bit. Highly entertained, Dyson’s eyebrows pop up as he notices. He flicks a glance between Trick and Stella and turns away to hide a smile.
“The Threshold,” Stella prompts barely glancing at Dyson. “It’s—in your office—right?” “Yes,” Trick says, more than a little breathless. “Of course.” Dyson gives him a you sly dog look before he reaches for the bottle and finally pours that shot. “My office,” Trick repeats, unable to take his eyes from Stella, “just the two of us. Perfect.” Dyson puts the bottle aside and picks up the glass as Stella places her bag on the bar and tells Trick that she hopes he hasn’t misjudged her. She reaches up to pull out the one single stick in her knot so that her hair falls down around her shoulders in waves. “Sometimes, even I like it loud.” Dyson covers his mouth with his hand to hide his grin as Stella retrieves her bag, flicks a glance between the two men, and sashays away toward Trick’s office. Trick stares after her as an amused Dyson contemplates his old friend. “Huh huh huh huh huh,” Trick laughs, low and with carnal anticipation. Oh, it’s just a delightful, wholly male reaction. Love it.
“I knew she was Trick bait as soon as I saw her,” Dyson says smugly in THAT VOICE. I love the term ‘Trick bait’! Trick whirls on him. “Trick bait?! You’re crazy!” But Dyson knows him too well. “That no nonsense, ball-buster thing she’s got going on? That’s like crack to you.” True. Take a look at his wife, daughter, and granddaughter for front and center examples. Trick definitely cultivates a type that, in the case of his own family, spans generations. Tellingly, Dyson shares his penchant for strong, ballsy women. I’m sensing a trend here.
“I’m in trouble, aren’t I?” Trick caves quickly, laughing. He definitely is, and Dyson is pleased to see his friend finally find someone worthy to fall for. “But you,” he encourages with a hand on Trick’s shoulder, “have no reason to keep your feelings under wraps.” Unlike me he adds silently, and Trick knows exactly why Dyson points this out. “Enjoy,” Dyson advises with a quirked eyebrow. He downs his shot and he and his long-legged stride amble out of the bar. Trick smiles and then, after a moment, he sniffs Stella’s scent from the stole he still holds. “Aren’t you going to wait for Bo?” Trick calls after him just before he reaches the door. The humor that so recently filled Dyson’s face immediately fails. “I’d just be in the way,” he says with the added weight of anvilicious double meaning. Honey, you can come be in my way any time you want. I said that out loud again, didn’t I? Eh, whatever.
Trick stares after him sadly, then looks down again at Stella’s stole and gets the naughty grin on his face as he looks toward where she waits for him. He hurries off after her. You get on with your bad ass self there, Trickster.
Bo hurries down the stairs to Tolkien’s Lair (drink!) where Stella and Trick wait for her, pie in hand. “Salutations from the Grimley Cherry Festival!” Trick thanks her for the pie, and asks how it went. “Did you grant forgiveness?” Bo happily admits that she forgave someone. “Let’s just hope I pass Stella’s little riddle.” Stella explains that she will pass as long as Bo allows herself to merge body and spirit in a state of oneness.” Bo nods, “Yes, Mrs. Miagi,” and Trick shoots her a wry look. She wonders what happens when she passes. “When you’re ready to enter the temple,” Stella begins, but Bo interrupts her right away. “Wait, there’s a temple?”
Peeved, Stella glances at Trick and tells Bo that the Rites of Passage vary, some physical, some psychological. “It’s different for each Fae, which is why time is of the essence.” Bo is eager to cut to the chase and hurries over to The Threshold. She takes her position and settles herself into place as Stella rises to her feet. Without hesitation, Bo steps up to and through The Threshold. “You did it!” Trick shouts. “I did it! I did it!” Bo exclaims, grinning as she dances a jig back and forth across The Threshold. “Look! I just successfully merged action and awareness!” Trick beams. “I’m so proud of you!” Aw, that’s so sweet!
Bo dances up to Stella. “So, this temple that you speak of, is there a dress code? Do they take reservations?” But killjoy Stella points out that Bo has performed one simple task. “Now the real training begins. Crossing The Threshold only allows you access to the temple…where the most grueling challenges of your life await you,” she informs them gravely. “Oh crud,” Bo mutters.
Back home at Hilton Hovel (drink!), Bo is in a much better mood as she arrives to find Kenzi shaving parmesan cheese in preparation for dinner. Wait a second, since when does Kenzi cook? Kenzi asks how it went and Bo says it was great. “Trick’s gonna set up a trust for my mom,” she says, smiling. “She’ll be taken care of.” Oh good! I’m so glad they didn’t let that plot thread dangle untied. “Wicked!” Kenzi exclaims, and then a moment later, “Can Trick set me up a trust?” He already has—it’s called a bar tab.
“Oh, and I crossed The Threshold!” Bo remembers to impart as though it didn’t just happen two seconds ago. “I mean there’s still tons more training and there’s a temple, but—” Kenzi frowns. “Come again?” Bo admits that she feels better than she has in a long time and Kenzi smiles to hear it. “Thanks again for coming,” Bo says warmly. “Of course,” Kenzi replies, and, “my goodness, it was godly farm-fed fun!” But Bo tells her she can’t keep hiding behind her jokes. “Sure I can,” Kenzi trills. Bo admits that she’s worried about Kenzi and, subdued, Kenzi says she’s glad to be home, “with you.” But she can’t talk about it yet. “Okay,” Bo agrees reluctantly. “Then let’s talk about something else.” She gives Kenzi her don’t even think off bullshitting me she usually reserves for people she’s interviewing for a case. Alarmed by her tone, Kenzi looks up. “Kenzi, why did you go see The Norn (Freaking Norn!)?” Caught, trapped. Kenzi goes very, very still.
End Credits.
Hang on, did we just go through an entire episode of Lost Girl without one single (non-flashback related) sex scene—nay, not even a glimpse of a succubus feed?!
Well, my goodness.
Next week: Fae’d Against the Machine
Kiersten Hallie Krum writes smart, sharp & sexy romantic suspense. Find her snarking her way across social media as @kierstenkrum and on her web site and blog at www.kierstenkrum.com.
