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Bo bursts into Doctor Lauren’s empty flat, Dyson behind her, and admits that she’s probably just overreacting. She flips on the switch Doctor Lauren so recently turned off and shouts up the stairs. “(Doctor) Lauren! If you’re here and you’re just ignoring me, I’m sorry for breaking in!” Dyson shoots her a look and saunters deeper into the flat only to pause at the end of Doctor Lauren’s desk. When she gets no answer, Bo seeks reassurance from Dyson. “See, it’s weird, right?” she says, crossing to him. “She hasn’t come by. She hasn’t answered any of my calls…” She just broke up with you and you expect her to come over for a visit or want to chat? Okey doke.
Bo’s voice tapers off as Dyson lifts up Doctor Lauren’s discarded mobile and silently holds it out to Bo. Processing, Bo steps closer as Dyson scrolls through the doc’s call history. “Why would anyone leave their phone behind?” Bo asks. “Ever?” Dyson gently suggests that maybe Doctor Lauren just forgot it. “Don’t do that, Dyson,” Bo immediately objects. “I am not crazy.” “Bo, I know you’re not crazy,” Dyson firmly states. After the kitsune debacle, he’s not about to make the mistake of doubting her again. That doesn’t mean he’s her pet sleuth either. “But I’m in the middle of the most important case of my life! Not to mention today is Hale’s inauguration—I don’t have time to play Relationship Detective.” HA! Oh, I would TOTALLY watch that show, at least for the one episode where he tried (and failed) to mitigate a relationship having already proven to be oh so successful as a high school guidance counselor.
Worried, but knowing he’s right, Bo exhales and paces, fists pressed against her forehead. Not for nothing, but that dark red tank top looks smashing on her. Dyson offers to run the numbers on the doc’s phone once he gets back to the cop shop, “maybe I can scare her up.” Bo emotionally wonders if maybe she is going crazy. “Have you ever thought,” Dyson consoles, “that maybe given the stress of The Dawning…and the break up…” “It is a break,” Bo insists again. Dyson, knowing better than to offer an opinion on this one, merely looks at her with sympathy as he waits for Bo to catch up with everyone else about the end of her relationship with Doctor Lauren. Bo sighs heavily. “Yeah,” she agrees matter-of-fact. “Even I don’t buy that line anymore.” FINALLY!
Down in Siren’s Speakeasy (drink!), Trick adjusts an empty throne chair whilst…humming. Tray in hand loaded with empty glasses, Kenzi sets various tables and notes that Trick is in a chipper mood. “My protégée is officially becoming The Ash,” Trick crows, pausing to adjust…something. “Of course I’m chipper!” He decides it was good he was hard on Hale. “Hale’s going to make a real change,” he announces with conviction. “Oh yeah?” Kenzi snarks as she crosses to set her now empty tray on the bar. “Is he not gonna be such a dick anymore?”
Trick sighs and checks that nobody heard Kenzi’s snipe before he advises that she needs to set aside her personal feelings for Hale. “This is a big day for the Fae and they’re not going to take kindly to a human belittling it.” Kenzi silently agrees, but they’re interrupted before she can do or say more. “Do The Light always hold their inaugurations in a steak house?” The Morrigan drawls as she enters Siren’s Speakeasy (drink!). Wait till you try the all-you-can-eat salad bar. Look, I love The Dal (drink!), but the lady’s got a point. Lachlan’s inauguration was much more posh in its surroundings. I get that Hale is going for a “with the people” vibe, but still…occasionally ceremony has its purpose.
Trick frowns and demands to know what she’s doing there. “Regardless of the fact that the last time The Light elected a new leader he turned out to be an imposter, I’m only here with good wishes for the new Ash,” Evony croons. Wait, when did Lachlan turn out to be an imposter? He was Light Fae and he won the Hunt, so…did I miss something. Can lambia not be in positions of power?
“It is unacceptable for the Dark Fae to attend a Light Fae inauguration,” Trick intones in his best don’t mess with me voice as Kenzi and her crossed arms of disapproval hold the line behind him. Evony trills that she was invited. “By who?” Kenzi snits (it’s “whom”, darling, but don’t worry about it). “By me,” Hale (HALE!) answers as he enters the room. HALE is back!! Whooooo. Where you been, siren? We have missed you and that stunning smile. “Nope,” Kenzi quips without humor. “Still a dick.” She stalks off and out the other door without another word. Hale watches until she’s out of sight.
Oh my, we are off to quite a start!
Evil Lair lab, Doctor Lauren and her goggles are watching a cellular reaction on the flat screen. “Neural toxin is showing predicted signs. Plague is going rigid; toxin is breaking down,” she play by plays as Taft strolls back and forth behind her. She dips her wand (not like that!) into a lab tube thingy (yes, that is the official name, thank you) and announces that she’s applying the A54 enzyme to repair the toxin. She watches the flat screen and is so amazed by what the reaction she dramatically snatches the goggles from her face in her best Horatio-Caine-and-his-sunglasses imitation. “It worked!” she announces and repeats it as she leaps to her feet. Other white coats gather around her to see the results. The doc turns around and giddy grins at Taft. “We’re one step closer to heart disease!” she squeals. I know you meant “curing” heart disease there, sweetie. There’s a pause. “Er—curing it!” she corrects herself (see?) and everyone laughs and applauds as the doc lunges forward to hug Taft, who looks mildly surprised at this spontaneous gesture from the doc, though not at all surprised by the test results.
So, she’s been gone only a few days and already has achieved a miraculous scientific event? She is amazing!
The doc pulls back and immediately apologizes. “It’s just been a long time since I’ve felt this useful,” she confesses. Wow, when you finally start talking truth, you don’t mess around, do you doc? But Taft is good with it and announces they should celebrate. Handily, he already has champagne and flute glasses at hand. This pings even for the doc. “That’s a little presumptuous to have champagne in the lab since this was our first test run, no?” Taft agrees that no, it’s not presumptuous. “I knew you’d do it.” Flattered and touched at his unwavering faith and appreciation of her, the doc blinks back more emotion. Taft hands over a flute. “Drink up there, genius” he teases. Doctor Lauren starts back to herself, “sure yeah, I just—I wanna text my—” she reaches for her lab coat pocket only to remember her phone isn’t there and why she left it behind. For a moment her mouth firms at the memory of her breakup, but then she chuckles lightly. Taft asks if she’s okay. “Yeah,” she assures him with a smile and repeats, “yes,” with another chuckle as she realizes it’s true. “All right,” Taft says with a little doubt in his voice. But the doc for once, is certain. “Let’s drink!” she chimes, setting her chin and lifting her flute. “Lauren Lewis, everybody,” Taft toasts and clinks glasses with the doc.
Later, a random lab minion takes the lab tube thingies (shuddup) to cold storage…only to have another disembodied, lab coat wearing minion immediately sneak two vials out…and this minion is wearing a shoulder holster. Dun dun DUN!
Down in Tolkien’s Lair (drink!) Dyson
is pouring shots from a really old, ornate metal…canteen? “For my best friend,” Dyson muses, “a big day.” He passes one of the tin cups over to and a half dressed Hale and clink tin shot glasses—in a manly way of course, like a street clink. “Slainte,” they toast in tandem. They drink and hum and shiver as they savor the slow burn of good, old scotch. Given Dyson’s personal longevity, I’m betting it’s pretty damn old. “Whoa,” Dyson exhales in appreciation. “Dayam,” Hale hisses once he gets his breath back. “That is some good hooch.” Dyson rolls the last of the liquor around in his mouth as Hale sets his cup down with a click. “Hate to ruin a good aftertaste,” he says as he turns back to the mirror to finish buttoning his shirt. Guess Bo loaned them her full-length stand-alone. “But what’s the latest?” Back to business, Dyson updates that they’re still processing the bodies from the Field of Death. “Eighteen so far, both Light and Dark. And, ah, it looks like they were tortured,” he adds reluctantly. “Tortured,” Hale repeats, almost unable to believe what he’s hearing. “Yeah, and some of the vics were missing their organs,” Dyson finishes with distaste, getting all the bad out in one go. “So Black Market Fae organ harvesters,” Hale sums up morosely as he turns to face his old partner. Dyson jerks his chin in a loud nonverbal. That’s what it sounds like, yeah. “Tell me you have a lead,” Hale nearly pleads but Dyson has to admit that they don’t, “not yet.”
Hale decides he needs a sit down with The Morrigan as soon as he’s sworn in, “see if we can’t pool our resources.” Isn’t that what the Tamsin/Dyson partnership is supposed to do in the first place? Dyson just looks at him, much as he did earlier with Bo, and his connection with Hale is such that it’s all they need too. With a heavy sigh, Hale turns back to the mirror. “This is what I want, right?” he posits, glancing up at Dyson’s reflection. “It’s what everyone wants,” Dyson offers. “Change.” Not the answer Hale wants, but certainly the reassurance he needs. But in his reflection, for a moment he looks so miserable. Hale never wanted to be in Fae politics, but his heart for the Fae, his dreams for what they could be, are so big, when need called, he had to put aside what was important to him personally—like Kenzi, like being a cop—and take up the mantle. Needs of the many…
Hale looks down to fasten his cuffs. Dyson gets up and puts his hands on Hale’s shoulder. “I’m proud of my old partner,” he says with warmth. “I miss my old partner,” is Hale’s heartfelt reply. Dyson slaps Hale’s shoulders in support and squeezes them for good measure. “Me too. Which reminds me,” Dyson announces, shifting them back into a lighter tone. He digs a small case out of his pocket and, with a cagey look, slowly opens it like displaying an engagement ring. “Is that what I think it is?” Hale asks in a low, relieved voice. “Well, your father didn’t want the first Ash from Clan Zamora in a hundred years to stick his neck out only to have it chopped off,” Dyson teases.
Hale reaches for whatever’s in the case, but Dyson playfully snaps the top down on his hand. Heh. Wait, does this mean Dyson is secretly Richard Gere? Though I could easily buy Gere as Fae, I much prefer KHR and besides, that would make Hale Julia Roberts and—no. Also, just how many Rom Coms have these guys seen? Hale smirks—All right. All right—as Dyson grins. “This little baby should keep you safe,” he quips and hands the case over to Hale. Considering the case, Hale admits that it’s nice to know his father cares about him. “Not enough to cancel a ski trip to Gstaad by the way, but…”
Dyson hmms in sympathy and smacks Hale on the shoulder. “Look, I got to go.” He gathers up the canteen. “If I’m gonna show up my buddy at his inauguration,” he taunts, holding out the edges of his leather jacket as he mock spins in place and for a moment, KHR’s former model stint is on display. “I gotta change.”
“Yes you do,” Hale shoots back. “Hair. Attitude. Shit, I’d ask for a refund.” Aw. Guy speak is always so tender. Dyson flips his hands up and sketches a short bow. “Your grace,” he mocks lightly. Hale turns back to the mirror, smiling now as Dyson exits, job propping up his partner done…for now. But as he stares at his own reflection, Hale’s smirk fades to resigned dread. Wow. I never quite realized just how much I missed the Hale/Dyson dynamic until we just got it back. Their camaraderie, their unqualified support of one another, their guyness has been a sore loss this season. Adore this scene stem to stern.
At Hilton Hovel (drink!), Bo is in the tub, submerged in a swath of bubbles. Still worried about Doctor Lauren, she checks her phone to see if either the doc or Dyson has checked in yet, but neither has. She settles back in the tub on a sad sigh, until the sounds of a liquid sloshing in a bottle and footsteps on the stairs bring her to her feet in a rush of displaced water, knife at the ready. A drunken Tamsin lounges against the half framed wall of the doorway, bottle dangling from one hand, the other on her cocked hip. “Wow,” she snarks, looking up and down Bo’s naked form. “You always bathe with weapons?” Bo almost certainly bathes with a hefty sword when she shares the tub with Dyson…
It takes Bo a moment to dial back from attack mode. With a grimace, she settles back into the tub. “Moragh attack a couple years back. Can’t be too careful,” she grudgingly explains. Unconcerned, Tamsin sidles across the room, poking at things. “And I thought the door was locked,” Bo adds pointedly. Tamsin turns and smirks. “It was.”
“Can I help you?” Bo snits. “No,” Tamsin sighs. “Maybe,” she says after a brief pause. “I just came here to drink all your liquor,” she finally admits without shame. “Though you’d be gone by now.” Bo snarks that at least Tamsin’s honest. Tamsin takes another swig from the bottle. “Well, we all have our strengths,” she sneers back through a deep bow, like she’s taking applause on a stage. “So,” she chirps, playing with and then pulling the old-fashioned toilet’s pull chord. “What up, succubus?” Bo says she’s not really in the mood for small talk. “Come on,” Tamsin mocks, taking a seat on the—erm—throne. “Everybody looovvvveessss small talk.” She takes another big swig from her bottle.
Annoyed, Bo works her jaw, but realizes she’s not getting rid of Tamsin fast. “It’s (Doctor) Lauren,” she admits. “I haven’t seen her in a few days and I’m worried about her.” That’s what happens when you break up with someone, kiddo, you don’t see them. I get that she’s worried, but I don’t get what made her think giving the doc some space meant that she’d still see her on a regular basis. Eh, whatever. Tamsin rolls her eyes. “I’m sure she’s…fiiiinnee,” she says. “Probably just need some space.” “Just needs some space,” Bo says wearily at the same time (she’s been hearing that explanation a lot lately) and for a moment their talking over one another saying the same thing. “It’s a popular opinion,” Bo grouses. That usually happens when something is true. Uncomfortable that she might have to accept that explanation after all, she shifts in the bath and updates Tamsin that Dyson has Doctor Lauren’s phone and is running some numbers.
“So,” Tamsin says, going serious. “Not small talk.” Mildly alarmed but her flat tone, Bo narrows her eyes on Tamsin and waits. “You weren’t the one who killed
Blue the blonde hottie,” Tamsin admits, heavy with guilt. Bo sits up as she processes this and its implications. “What?!” she snarls. “The six-fingered lady did,” Tamsin explains. Hal-lo! My name is—eh never mind. “And then someone killed her!” Tamsin adds with morbid cheer. “Big time. Wasn’t you, was it?” Heh. Bo demands to know about Tamsin’s “Dark Fae friend, the one in a coma.”
“Him!” Tamsin says with no small amount of self-loathing. She snorts and pulls the chord again, and hilariously gets a good whiff of her arm as she does so. “It is entirely possible,” she quips, “that I do not smell so good.” She gets up, sets the bottle on the edge of the seat, and examines herself in the mirror. Bo settles back in the tub and suggests Tamsin take a page from her book and get a bath. Tamsin retrieves her bottle and as Bo watches incredulously, she toes off her boots, sets the bottle deliberately on the table with Bo’s knife and phone and moves to get into the tub. “Ah, no, Tamsin, I didn’t mean—ahh,” Bo's objection trails off as Tamsin pays her no heed and, fully clothed, climbs in the tub with her. What about the gun? Hey, check your gun, Tamsin! Hel-lo?! Didja forget you’re wearing a hip holster complete with—ah shit, there goes the gun.
“Okay then,” Bo snits. As though just remembering, Tamsin lifts up and reaches back to drag forth the now soap bubble covered gun. “Ooops,” she quips and tosses the gun across the room. Serve her right if it went off, but no. Frowning, Bo looks between the discarded gun and the uninvited Valkyrie. “Where do you get off being so perfect,” Tamsin asks in drunken misery. Ah, she doesn’t. “Think you’ve seen everything…and then you see you.”
“I’m all right,” Bo says, not entirely friendly. “But I’m not perfect.” Tamsin smirks halfway and leans forward to hover over Bo. “Yes you are,” she counters. “To me you are.” Not sure what’s going on, Bo watches her very carefully. “Your eyes are both brown and blue,” Tamsin says. Bo whispers, “Tamsin what are you doing?” but Tamsin ignores her to continue her litany. She boosts up even closer to Bo and points one long finger at her chest, right above Bo’s heart. “Your heart is both strong and gentle.” A little less alarmed, Bo yet searches her face, trying to determine what Tamsin’s goal is here. Tamsin’s breasts rest on Bo’s raised knees as though Bo it only just holding her off. “You’re virtuous…and yet you’re a succubus,” she concludes with a puzzled frown as though those two features couldn’t—shouldn’t—exist within the same woman. “You shouldn’t be,” she finishes in a whisper. “Be what?” Bo snaps, losing patience with Tamsin’s riddles. “Be real,” Tamsin answers with a sad smile. “Be here.”
Bo’s mouth drops open and she’s about to say, or do, more when, with a rush, Tamsin pushes herself up and out of the tub. Confused, Bo nods as several expressions cross her face—What was that? Is that it? I guess we’re done then—and as Tamsin reclaims her bottle Bo finishes with, “Okay. I’ll see you at The Dal (drink!), I guess.” Dripping wet and back to swigging from her bottle, Tamsin pauses in the doorway. “Keep your wits about you,” she advises Bo. “You never know who may be watching!” she trills, lifting the bottle high to the sky as she ambles out of the room, leaving an ever-more puzzled Bo behind.
Cut to—outside?! Show, I love all these on location scenes we’ve had this season. Keep it up! A slick van lingers at the mouth of the alley that leads to The Dal (drink!). The henchman driver speaks into his headset. “We’re at the nest. Target’s on route.” Dun dun DUN!
At The Dal (drink!) Kenzi is in a bad temper as she stands at the bar and folds napkins. “Trick, I don’t want to be here,” she grits out between her teeth as Trick hurries to take his post behind the bar. “Then why are you dressed to the nines?” he shoots back. “Certainly not for Hale’s benefit. That guys sucks,” she mutters miserably. Trick checks his watch and expositions that his bartender is late and (here he folds a napkin with deliberate motions as an example of the way he want her to do it), he has no one else to help him. “No, you mean you have no other humans to help you,” Kenzi corrects and Tricks grunts with frustration as he grabs a bottle and hurries off. “You know, I think I’m gonna start a union for claimed humans,” Kenzi continues undaunted. “Ring in some change of my own.”
“You know, the last human who tried that didn’t fare very well,” Trick warns as he passes by. “Jimmy Hoffa rings any bells?” Kenzi widens her eyes at the thought—So that’s what happened to him—and goes back to folding napkins until a handsome gent sidles up to the bar. “I’m looking for a tall blonde with eyes like blue ice,” he says sounding more like a pick up line than an inquiry.
After a pause of whoa, Kenzi giggles and gets her flirt on. “I have those eyes—those are totally like my eyes.” HG: “Oh yeah, you certainly do,” he smarms. “Tell me, you’re not a…” and here he glances down at Kenzi’s crotch, “…natural blonde by any chance, are you?” Asshole.
Kenzi is immediately less enthralled. “Charmer,” she drawls with bite. “Tell me, your name isn’t Dickface, King of the Douchebags, is it?” Amused HG smiles wide, complete with dimples and creases by his eyes. Definitely an asshole. “No, I wish.” Of course you do. “It’s Massimo. Means the greatest.” “The greatest douchebag,” Kenzi says with mock awe. Massimo, laughing: “Yes, the greatest douchebag. You figured me out. And you—” he pauses and smiles as though he knows something she doesn’t. Dude is totally playing her “Oh you have a look that is all too familiar to me.”
“Yeah, out of your league,” Kenzi declares. But Massimo disagrees. “No. No, you’re an outsider.” Kenzi pauses tellingly in her napkin folding and Massimo presses his advantage. “You don’t belong here, do you?” Abruptly, Kenzi has had enough of Massimo’s game. “Dude, who are you?” Massimo says he’s just a man who can get Kenzi things, “make the impossible happen.” Kenzi: “Oh yeah? Why don’t you make the impossible happen and…disappear?” She waves her hand in his face. “Bye-bye.” Heh. She goes back to folding napkins, slapping the bar with each fold. Massimo studies her still with that amused smile. He knows he’s made his point. “Okay,” he allows. “I’m gonna let you get back to your chores.” Kenzi looks after him, puzzled by his purpose, then shakes him off and tries to ignore just how close to target he hit. It’s too bad this guy’s such an asshole; he and Kenzi have great natural chemistry together.
Evil Lair Lab, he and Doctor Lauren are alone in the lab, sharing the last of the champagne. The doc points out that Taft still hasn’t told her where he got the enzyme she used to stabilize the neurotoxin. “I get it from the same place I get everything I can’t get in North America,” he says with a causal shrug. “China.” Heh. The doc laughs weakly at his joke. “I’m really glad that I met you, Isaac,” she says after a pause. Isaac raises his brows. Oh really? “I didn’t realize it, but for a long time there’s been something missing,” she confesses, “you know, there’s been a—an emptiness, and I… ” Isaac interrupts to tease that it’s amazing what success can do for that emptiness, “isn’t it?” and the doc laughs again. “I admit it is a—potent drug,” she says.
Isaac toys with his flute and becomes more serious as he asks if the doc heard the story from a few years ago about a waitress in the Midwest who was attacked and murdered in a diner by a serial killer with a distinctive if gruesome M.O. The doc did not hear about it, likely as she was in the Congo or Afghanistan, or the Amazon, possibly one of the two trips to Egypt, or maybe buried under the extensive training and study any one of her supposed areas of expertise would require when this headline murder took place. The DNA of this killer, Gabriel, was all over the diner. “I’m sorry,” the doc interrupts, “I’m not following. Did he die of heart disease?”
Apropos of nothing, Taft asks if the doc has seen “this place” yet and when Doctor Lauren says no, he offers to show her around. As he leads her through the marble hallways and up the stairs, he continues the story of Gabriel. The gist is that Gabriel killed people, “because he deemed them too good for the world. He deemed them worthy to ascend.” Thoughtful of him. The doc asks if “they” caught Gabriel and Taft says yes, but not for murdering the waitress. When she was killed, Gabriel was serving three back to back life terms in a maximum-security prison. As he tells Doctor Lauren, Taft grabs her arm and tows her into a marble staircase. Still trying to make sense of the story, the doc barely notes his behavior and asks how they found Gabriel’s DNA at the scene. Taft relates that before Gabriel was hunted down and locked up, he had donated bone marrow to a random father of two named James who needed a transplant to live.
Doctor Lauren, aghast: “You’re not suggesting that his actual bone marrow…” Taft: “Completely took over and replaced his original cell structure? Yes. I am. And what do you think James said when he was asked why he murdered that waitress.” But the doc’s moved a little faster now to connect the dots. “That she was too good for this world? That she should ascend?” she posits, fascinated. “Now just think,” Taft says intently, “what good we could do if we could find a way to turn that negative…into a positive.”
Doctor Lauren is thinking…and she is mighty intrigued, but for the
big honking pesky ethical issue. Taft wanders up the steps and as the doc pursues, she argues that while she agrees there’s while there could be great benefit, “this kind of procedure lends itself to slide down some very slippery slopes!” She suggests it could be used to create more killers like James. “So wait a second, you’re a scientist but you don’t think that humans were made to ascend or to improve or...to evolve.” Or devolve, perhaps? Hmmm? “Why shouldn’t we use all the tools we’ve been given?” The doc agrees that they should, “I – I’m just saying that we also need to remember that those tools have given us…” “A possible cure for heart disease,” Taft supplies. “A cure for polio! Mumps. Measles.” Swine flu? “And the atom bomb!” Doctor Lauren counters definitively. Taft ponders her for a moment and steps closer and for a moment, he doesn’t look too friendly. “Did we just have our first fight?” he asks coyly. Caught off guard, the doc sniffs, amused but still disturbed. Tension broken, Taft holds up his flute again. “For now, congratulations,” he offers. He clinks her glass and then heads off down the hallway. “Come on,” he prods. A little reluctant now, the doc nonetheless follows along.
Trick confronts a man as he enters The Dal (drink!) buttoning his vest. “Gerry, where have you been?!” Trick demands. Gerry scoffs that he was stuck in traffic. “I forgot my keys, and—” But Trick doesn’t want to hear the excuses and orders Gerry to just get behind the bar and start pouring drinks as Trick finishes getting dressed. Uncomfortable, Gerry looks around the bar and then does as Trick ordered. Gerry here is played by Seth Cooperman who is Anna Silk’s husband, so all of this is about to get very Meta and very entertaining.
Dyson strolls across the room, tricked (heh) out in Stalker Dyson wear of black shirt, black jacket and black trousers but happily sans Stalker Dyson’s lost love jackhole tendencies so…oh holy hot hero moment! He steps up to the bar and orders a “whiskey, the Scottish kind, please,” from Gerry. A little scared, Gerry looks Dyson up and down and then moves to get the whiskey.
Dyson turns to look over the small crowd at large as Bo sidles out from a group. She too is in black (surprise!) a snug, stunning halter dress that fits her like a glove. They step toward each other and meet in the middle. Bo’s brow furrows a little in silent question as Dyson stares at her without speaking. They each size up the other, openly pleased at what they see. Dyson meets her eyes.“What?” Bo asks a little sharp. He spreads his hands to encompass all her glory. “I have never seen anything so beautiful in my life,” he says in THAT VOICE. Bo is taken aback a bit. It’s been a long time since he’s said something like that to her. “Oh, well,” she leans her torso toward him. “Thank you,” she allows somewhat chagrined and then reaches out to stroke his shoulder as though unable to resist the urge any longer. “You’re not so bad yourself.” He makes a self-effacing noise and gesture, dismissing her praise, and for a moment they merely smile at one another as Bo sways in place. “Can I buy you a free drink?” he asks holding an arm out toward the bar. Bo smirks. “What a gentlemen,” she teases and Dyson chuckles as they turn as one toward the bar, “I accept.”
Bo places her purse on the bar (she owns a purse?!) and sits on the stool as Dyson calls for Gerry. “Ah, barkeep!” Gerry turns around, visibly alarmed, but Dyson misses it, his focus too fixed on Bo. “The lady will have—ah—champagne?” he asks Bo. “Ah no,” she says, “the lady will have whiskey, the Scottish kind,” she says, repeating Dyson’s earlier order which pleases him quite a bit on several levels. “And make it a double,” she adds. Gerry moves off to get the drinks as Dyson smiles down at Bo. “You just keep getting better and better, don’t you?” he teases warmly in THAT VOICE. “I like to think so,” she flirts back. GAME. ON.
With his back to them, Gerry preps their drinks...and then, unseen by Bo and Dyson, he pulls one of Doctor Lauren’s enzyme vials from his pocket and dumps its contents into one of the glasses. So Anna’s husband just poisoned one of her onscreen exes. Heeeee.
More serious, Bo tells Dyson she can only have one drink and then she wants to talk to Hale to see if he knows where Doctor Lauren’s got to. “Right,” Dyson acknowledges with a nod. “Anything on her phone?” Bo asks, and Dyson admits that there’s nothing yet. “After the ceremony, I promise.” Bo nods, her trust in him total. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you Team Badass…again. With a wary glance at Dyson, Gerry puts the glasses before them. They each flick Gerry a silent glance of thanks and then raise glasses to each other. “To a New Fae,” Bo toasts quietly, “under the right man.” They clink and Dyson gives her a wolfish look. He’s back! “To that dress under the right man,” he drawls. THAT WOULD BE YOU. Bo laughs with appreciation. “Oh ho! Drink your whiskey, wolf,” she chides fondly but she istotally thinking about it. Dyson chuckles and grins at her, cocky and confident, before he sips. She didn’t say no. For his part, Gerry shoots them a look of death and passes out of frame. I love that whole exchange. It’s flirty and hot and sexy and fun. Bo is clearly into it and it’s just so satisfying, I giddy grinned through every rewind. There were several.
Over in Taft’s
Evil Lair lab, a random lab tech peers into a microscope when Doctor Lauren slinks up. She asks if she can interrupt the tech and see what she’s studying. But as the doc does so, she surreptitiously slips one of the vials from the lab tube thingy marked “A45 enzyme” and into her pocket. Thanking the tech, she makes her way over to her station and disconnects the flat screen camera from her scope. Grabbing her wand (stop it), she dips it in the vial and squeezes some of the enzyme fluid onto her slide. She peers into her scope and after a few seconds it’s clear what she sees there is very disturbing. She recoils from the eye pieces, processing, getting ever more and more upset and the conclusions she’s reaching in only seconds as to what actually is in the slide…just as Isaac enters the lab behind her. You mean to tell me a scientist as accomplished as Doctor Lauren didn’t insist on due diligence before she enacted the original test? Huh.
The doc grabs for the phone and pounds in a number, presumably Bo’s, though that’s a lot of numbers she’s pressing there, but as she swivels in the chair, she sees Isaac watching her, avuncular smile on his face. With a wary eye on her benefactor, the doc pretends to request some files. Taft smiles again and ambles off to swipe a key card though a lock and enter a hereto unexplored room. The doc tracks him with her gaze and then grimaces with worry, finally catching on that she has landed herself in some very deep shit.
Back in The Dal (drink!), Evony helpfully folds down Hale’s collar. “Hmm. If it wasn’t punishable by death,” she croons, “I’d give you a taste, Handsome.” Hale is unmoved. “’Congratulations on Your Big Day’ card would be fine. Really,” he says, widening his eyes in fair imitation of Kenzi and a glimmer of the old Hale. The Morrigan continues to fuss with his clothes as she mock worries that she so hopes he doesn’t get murdered. Hale rolls his eyes and lets her get on with it. “What with all the death threats. Finding your killer would be like finding a needle in a whore stack.” Snort. Hale’s had enough and grabs the hands and her attention. “If we’re gonna work together, I need you to be a little bit less All About Eve and a little bit more Steel Magnolias. You feel me?” Ha! Wonder who made you watch those flicks, Hale. “Which one was about the hair cut that gives you cancer?” The Morrigan muses unconcerned as she picks at his lapel. But Hale is done playing. “Go away,” he orders. She smiles up at him and nearly pats his cheek before she does so. Hale looks after her and then shakes his head and his jacket as though brushing her off.
Evony smirks at a shocked Bo as they pass one another before Bo joins Hale. “What is she doing here?” Hale flexes his political muscle by side-stepping the questions to compliment Bo’s appearance. He leans forward for a double-cheek kiss. Bo thanks him and then with one last puzzled glance after Evony, gets to her true purpose. She tells Hale how she can’t find Doctor Lauren. “Do you have any idea where she might be?” Hale waggles his head with frustration. “I really do not need this today.” Bo jumps on this, “what you know something?!” and Hale informs her how Doctor Lauren came to him asking for a short sabbatical, “to work on some other project.” Bo is relieved to hear this. “And you told her no,” she says. “In no uncertain terms,” he confirms firmly. Dude is not pleased. Bo admits this makes her feel a lot better but when Hale gives her an excuse me? look, she quickly corrects herself. “I mean, not that she didn’t listen to you…well, you know what I mean,” she finishes with a breathy smile.
Off to the side, The Morrigan watches them carefully as a gorgeous waiter holds out a tray of hors d’oeuvres and offers her something to eat. “Nothing for me, but the Acting Ash might be a little puckish,” she says. Taking out a small case, she removes the bug within and places it on one of the tray’s offerings before sending Hot Waiter over to Hale. So she just literally bugged Hale. Hee. “Please,” Bo pleads with Hale as Hot Waiter approaches, “just give me some time to find her.” Hale gives her ‘til the end of day, “and then I put my people on this,” he warns, carefully making a choice from the tray. Well, “your people” tends to be Dyson and he’s already on it, so…“Girlfriend or not (NOT) this is a security issue for The Light, understand?” he finishes as he pops the food to his mouth. Bo nods and thanks him. She’s been with the Fae long enough to get it, and based on her recent experience with The Witches of Faewick, her sense of Fae-superiority has already begun to take precedence if only subconsciously. Hale chews while the bug springs out onto the side of his neck, buzzing away as Bo tells Hale that he looks really…official. The bug goes to sting Hale but suddenly there’s a SNAP and the bug disintegrates in a spark. Hale tilts his chin down as the sound buzzes his ear, Evony whirls to put her back to him and swears, “Shit!” As Bo leaves him, Hale glances down at his finery. “Glad someone thinks so,” he grouses. He chews, swallows, and shoots his cuffs before stalking over to stand at Evony’s back, startling her when he plays with the strap or her dress much like she just toyed with his jacket. “You should really try the hors d’oeuvres,” he sneers. “They’re generating quite the buzz.” Ha! He smacks her ass—HA!—and as she watches him leave, Evony smiles as she reevaluates her opponent.
With answers from Hale, Bo hurries back into The Dal (drink!) proper to update Dyson—only to find him lying on the floor unconscious. That’s getting to be an all too regular thing. I DO NOT APPROVE! “Dyson?!” Bo gasps and hurries to his side. “I don’t know what happened,” a bumbling Gerry says, “he just collapsed!” Eerily remnant of the end of Ceremony, Bo begins to lose her shit. “Oh my God! Dyson! DYSON! Look at me, Dyson!” she screams, shaking his chest before taking his head in her hands as she tries to rouse him. That never works, sweetie. Think outside the box. Gerry tells her he called the paramedics and, on cue, two men hurry into The Dal (drink!) bearing a stretcher. “Hurry! Please!” Bo calls to them desperately. “What is wrong with him?!” she demands as Dyson begins to convulse and foam at the mouth. The paramedic shines a light in Dyson’s eyes and assures Bo in that patronizing way they have that Dyson is going to be just fine. “Fine? What do you mean ‘just fine’?!”
But as the paramedics crouch down at either end of Dyson, Bo gets a good whiff. “Whoa.” She looks between the two men. “Are you boys skunk apes?” she asks. The paramedic’s head comes up at that and he orders her to let them do their job. They get Dyson up on the stretcher. “Well,” Bo rambles, thinking quickly, “it’s just that Dyson is part wombly—is that going to be an issue?” But Paramedic #2 doesn’t think it’s a problem and repeats that Dyson is going to be okay. Bo, however, knows that womblies are extremely rare North American Fae with overdeveloped olfactory senses that will implode at the smell off skunk ape. Finally, a valid purpose for at least some part of the deplorable season opener that was Caged Fae.
The paramedics fail Bo’s test. (Honestly, I missed that it was a test the first time.) They wheel Dyson toward the door, but Bo isn’t having any. “Skunk apes are poisonous to womblies and you think he’s going to be okay?!” she snarls. Behind the bar, Gerry slowly squats down to hide. HA! Bo spies the shoulder holster beneath the paramedic’s jacket. She goes into fight mode, stepping back and whipping out her knife from her garter. Paramedic #1 immediately draws his gun. Bo flips her attention to the other paramedic and he too draws on her. “You guys are human!” Bo concludes with shock. “I will open fire on the next thing that moves,” Paramedic #1 warns and he’s scared enough to do it.
He and Bo circle one another as Paramedic #2 wheels Dyson out the door. “The next room is filled with some pretty badass people,” Bo taunts as a wicked smile spreads across her face. “Maybe I should give a little whistle.” Kenzi chooses that moment to hurry out in her heels, presumably from Tolkien’s Lair, and moves to clock Paramedic #1 over the head with something old and likely heavy. But she doesn’t see that he’s holding a gun. “Kenzi, no!” Bo shouts. She tackles Kenzi to the ground, accidentally knocking her out. Bo checks Kenzi then, realizing the paramedics escaped…and took Dyson with them… she leaves Kenzi lying there and runs out the door after them…in those heels. That’s supernatural in and of itself.
Outside, the two men load Dyson without care into the back of that slick van. Bo bursts out of The Dal and sprints down the alley. Paramedic #1 shoots at her and Bo barely ducks in time to miss being shot. The van peels away from the curb, stretcher abandoned at the curb. Bo rushes to the street, but is too late to do anything but pant for air and watch them drive away. “Did they get away?” Gerry asks, coming up to join her. Without hesitation, Bo whirls around and clocks him in the face, knocking him out onto the ground—HA!HA!HA!—and goes back to glaring after the van.
With all the stealth of a wildebeest, Trick hurries into Sirens’ Speakeasy (drink!) and interrupts Hale’s conversation with some uppity looking people. “We’ve got a problem,” he says in a low if frantic voice. “There’s been an attack. By humans.” Hale: “What?!” Trick: “They’ve taken Dyson.” Hale immediately orders that no one leaves until they know what they’re dealing with. “I want this place locked down!” At the bar, an intrigued Evony gets all happy and orders Hot Waiter to get the Dark Fae elders to The Dal pronto. “Shit’s about to get real,” she drawls with delight as she refills her wine glass.
Back in The Dal (drink!) proper, Bo slams another right hook into Gerry’s jaw. Heeeee. How much FUN must Anna and Seth have had playing this one out? (Tangent: Anna tweeted that she learned she was pregnant on the last day of filming Hail Hale, which means that all of Clan Cooperman had a guest role in this episode.) He drops down to the floor, half propped against the bar. Bo is in a full-on fury and is not—erm—pulling punches. “Who are they and where did they take Dyson?!” she demands. Gerry weeps that he doesn’t know what Bo is talking about. “Why did you hit me?!” he whines. Ha! Trick and Hale stand behind Bo and watch dispassionately as Bo roughly grabs Gerry up by his lapels. “Because you hit the ground before they pulled their weapons,” she says reasonably. Less reasonably, she slams him up against the wall of the bar. “You poured the drinks!” Slam! “You poisoned Dyson!” Slam!
But when Gerry continues to insist he didn’t do anything, Trick gets in the game. “Start talking, traitor,” he orders through clenched teeth as he strangles Gerry, “or so help me the first order of The New Ash will be your execution.” “Already on the books, Trick,” Hale says in a low, all-too-calm voice that makes me believe he will have absolutely no problem making some of the more difficult decisions that face The Ash. Living with them however…
Look Gerry, you’ve got Dyson’s mate, his best friend, and his liege lord interrogating you. You’re sunk. Cough it up and be glad his little sister isn’t there too. Wait, where the hell is Kenzi?!
Bo struggles to pull Trick off of Gerry before he kills him. “Easy! Easy!” she pleads, finally yanking Trick free. “He can’t tell us anything with a crushed throat!” But Gerry takes this brief moment of freedom to scramble for his pocket and pull out another of Doctor Lauren’s enzyme vials, which he downs in one gulp. “No! NO!” Bo screams, but she’s too late. Gerry gasps an apology. “They have my wife!” Snicker. Yes. Yes we do. “I had no choice!” he coughs out and dies.
Hale’s restraint breaks. He snarls, takes two steps, and kicks a table across the room. “Damn it!” “Oh no,” Bo murmurs, crouched over Gerry as his head lolls. Trick starts to give Hale instructions—“you’re gonna have to…” – but Hale doesn’t need his mentor any more. “I know what I have to do, Trick!” he shouts, with a jerk of his arm to cut Trick off. Trick shuts up and watches Hale stalks back to Siren’s Speakeasy (drink!). He grimaces, checks Bo, and follows his Ash.
Bo sits up, breathing hard, and finally notices the vial in Gerry’s outstretched hand. Snatching it up, she reads the label: Dr. Lauren Lewis Test Subject 148-B2. That’s…not the same label as the one on the vials in the lab. Bo looks at Gerry and again at the ground beside him. This time she picks up Doctor Lauren’s discarded phone, which Dyson had on him to check her calls. Glancing once more at Gerry, she runs off.
Kenzi comes to on the couch in Tolkien’s Lair and rubs her head with a moan. “Trick.” But as she opens her eyes, it’s Massimo who’s sitting by her side, holding her hand. “I prefer treats, actually.” Kenzi gapes at him. Massimo strokes her hand with his thumb. “That’s quite a smack your owner gave you,” he observes. Kenzi scrambles to sit up. “She’s not my owner,” she snipes. Massimo ignores her protest to note that of course, Bo was just saving Kenzi’s life. “Some people are crazy about their pets.” Kenzi rubs the back of her head as she snaps that she can handle herself, “I’m nobody’s pet!” But Massimo pushes his advantage. “Still, you know, it can’t be easy. Having to be saved all the time. Creating compromise in difficult situations. Holding your friends back.”
Ah, excuse me, prick, but clearly you haven’t been watching the show (you either, show). Lemme help you out here. The Norn (Freaking Norn!). The Garuda. The debt on The Dal. Keeping Bo from falling over a balcony. Posing as Hale’s girlfriend. Fire extinguishing the cherufe. All accomplished by Kenzi. Excepting the aberration of the kitsune incident, Kenzi saves herself more times than not…and often the Fae along the way too. So step. Off.
But Kenzi has never fully recovered emotionally from the kitsune incident—not from failing to save herself and not from her friends failing her for so long. And, right or wrong, everything since has be one slap after another about her being human. Massimo definitely knows his mark and right where to prod to hurt Kenzi most. She grouses that yeah, it’s not easy, “being the only human on the attack squad. I bring other things to the table.” Massimo asks her what if he could help her bring the real to the table. Wary but reluctantly intrigued and not happy about it either, Kenzi glares at him. “What?!” she snaps.
“Don’t pretend that you never thought about being one of us,” Massimo chides, laying his trump card on the table. For a moment, the only sound in Tolkien’s Lair is the slow, loud tick of the clock. Too intrigued for comfort, Kenzi attacks. “What are you even doing down here?” she accuses, struggling to rise from the couch. “You don’t know…Trick.” Massimo insists he was concerned about her but Kenzi crosses her arms in defense. “Yeah, well where I come from, concern only comes with a sales pitch if there’s some kind of angle.” Massimo acknowledges that Kenzi is a smart girl. WE KNOW. “It takes a con to know a con,” Kenzi snits. He wonders how he did. “Are you hooked?” Kenzi pauses, and then whispers, “I’ll just wait for the movie, thank you.” Yeah, she’s hooked. She tells him he needs to get the hell out of Tolkien’s Lair before she screams. “For help?” Massimo scoffs. Kenzi doesn’t bother to reply as it occurs to her, perhaps for the first time, that 1. She was going to call for help rather than deal with the problem herself and 2. Nobody would come to save her anyway. Massimo decides not press his point and shrugs. “As you wish,” he says. Oh no. You do not get to be a smarmy prick and then quote Westley. Massimo exits leaving an unhappy and unsettled Kenzi alone in Tolkien’s Parlor.
Hang on. Six-fingered woman. Dyson mostly dead complete with floppy head. “As you wish…” I think someone showed The Princess Bride to their kids for the first time before writing this episode. I APPROVE!
Bo is in Doctor Lauren’s flat reading one of the doc’s notebooks with her back to the entrance and staircase. When she hears someone descending the stairs, her head pops up and – oh, that is one pissed off succubus all right. Interesting that she shows that level of raw rage for the person considering Bo can only expect that it’s Doctor Lauren coming down the stairs…
Alas, it’s Tamsin on the stairs. Her hair is wet and she’s wearing the doc’s robe while she Hoovers down some cereal. Caught, Tamsin freezes at the bottom of the stair and visibly works her way through several lies. “Hey. Ah. Hmm,” she tries, chewing and swallowing the last spoonful. “I was just on my way to The Dal to meet a friend,” she starts, discounting that there’s a high holy Fae ceremony underway there right now that Bo is clearly dressed to attend. “And you had said that (Doctor) Lauren was missing, right?” Bo nods with a sneer. “Right.” Warming to her tale, Tamsin shuffles forward and offers that she thought she’d put her cop skills to use and, “Come over here and see if I couldn’t find some—ah— evidence.” She finishes on a sigh as she realizes Bo isn’t buying any of it. Tamsin drops the bowl, and her head, on the table. “Dude, I live in my truck,” she confesses baldly. Ha! Do you think she shuffles from Bo’s to Dyson’s to Doctor Lauren’s homes to live when they’re not there and she’s not with them? Holy shit—Tamsin is Goldilocks and Bo, Dyson, and Doctor Lauren are the Three Bears!!
“Look, I don’t care,” Bo says, turning back to Doctor Lauren’s notebook. “Dyson’s been kidnapped!” Tamsin is horrified by the news. “WHAT?!” Bo nods, still visibly upset. “At The Dal (drink!) by humans!” Tamsin rears back. “How did humans take down a wolf?!” Oh! Oh! Oh! Can I tell her?! Pretty please?! Bo immediately tosses the vial over to Tamsin. “With this,” she sighs, no longer able to completely ignore the fact that Doctor Lauren is somehow involved in Dyson’s kidnapping. “The bartender poisoned him, than poisoned himself before I could question him.” Tamsin frowns as she rolls the tube to read the label. “Bitch, this better not be your (Doctor) Lauren,” she warns in her own death voice. “I’m afraid so,” Bo replies, equally unhappy and by the tone of her voice, I’m not so sure the doc’s going to be “Bo’s” for much longer. Whether or not Isaac switched labels to deliberately set the doc up with the Fae, the fact of the matter is that Doctor Lauren abandoned her life against orders (whether or not we like the fact that she has to adhere to those orders) and her actions ultimately set these events into play. Sure, Isaac probably would’ve done something eventually—he’s clearly been working on the Fae for some time now —0but Doctor Lauren was the final piece and, whether she knew what she was getting into or not, she bears responsibility for what’s happening now.
Tamsin rolls her eyes, quickly catching up with What’s Going On. “Well,” she sneers, “ain’t that just a shit sandwich that eats like a meal,” she snarks, picking up her bowl. “It gets worse,” Bo warns. Tamsin calmly drinks the milk from her bowl as Bo goes on that “The disguise that they were using so that they wouldn’t be detected by the Fae was the same disguise that (Doctor) Lauren used to fool The Warden when we were in Hecuba Prison.” A sitch that predates Tamsin slightly.
Tamsin strolls across the room to where she left her not-quite-empty liquor bottle as she takes it all in. “Wait now. So, one of your exes,” and here she giggles, “took out the other.” Bo doesn’t like that conclusion, but she can hardly argue with it. “Well, when you say it like that, it sounds weird,” she replies quietly. “Are you gonna help me or not?!” she snaps back, annoyed. Tamsin sighs heavily. “Look, if the bartender dropped dead immediately, how do we even know Dyson’s alive?!”
Bo drops the doc’s notebook back on her desk. “Because I know, Tamsin,” she says emotionally. Turning back to her bottle, Tamsin rolls her eyes—yeah yeah he’s crazy for you and you’re nuts for him blah blah —even as she nods while Bo continues. “I don’t understand why…” WE DO “…but I can feel it.” Having so recently experienced what it felt like when Dyson did die, indeed you do now know the difference, yes. Also, you love him and he loves you and you’re both mystical creatures, so…
“He’s alive,” Bo concludes, and there’s not a sliver of doubt to her conviction. Tamsin’s hand slips on the glass and she loses her balance, barely catching herself on the table while cradling bottle and glass to her chest. Bo cuts off her assertions of Dyson and hurries over. “Hey,” she says gently, grabbing Tamsin’s arm, but Tamsin jerks free. “I’m fine,” she snarls. “Just been having all my meals in liquid form lately,” she jibes. She tilts the bottle to her mouth—“just need a straightener”—but this time, Bo grabs the bottle. “I think you’ve had enough,” she decides setting the bottle behind her out of reach. “There’s some left,” Tamsin huffs drunkenly. She reaches past Bo for the bottle; Bo grabs her arm again with an annoyed, “Tamsin!” and this time when Tamsin jerks free, the bottle crashes to the floor.
Glaring at Bo, Tamsin rudely swipes her arm across her cheek. She takes the few steps toward Bo and smacks the broken glass in her hand down on the table. “Okay,” she allows, “Okay! Just…scour the apartment,” she suggests, pressing her fingers against what must be pounding temples. “If she really did turn on us, maybe we can find out why.” Bo goes back to Doctor Lauren’s desk and picks up the notebook again. “Dyson still have her phone?” Tamsin asks. Bo is reminded that he dropped it at The Dal and digs it out of her purse to toss across the room at Tamsin. “There’s a number in there that she’s been calling lately. It doesn’t ring any bells.” Tamsin offers to get the guys at the cop shop as a frustrated Bo drops the notebook down for the final time. Tamsin says they can run a trace and see if they can’t find out who Doctor Lauren’s been calling just as Bo opens the doc’s desk drawer…and stops cold as she spies the doc’s Fae pendant. “Oh, (Doctor) Lauren, no,” Bo whispers. Tamsin asks what she’s found. Bo eyes the Valkyrie. “No, nothing,” she lies, quickly shoving the pendant into her purse. Tamsin paddles back toward the stairs to go get dressed. “You should change that frock,” she advises Bo with a hand wave worthy of Kenzi. “Things are about to get dirt-taay.” But Bo doubts whether Tamsin is up for it. “Are you sure you’re in fighting shape?!” she accuses. Tamsin pauses at the bottom of the steps to look back at Bo. “Humans took Dyson,” she states flatly. “I’ve never been fightier in my life.” I heard that. It’s Bo’s turn to roll her eyes as Tamsin climbs the stairs and Bo turns again to Doctor Lauren’s notebook. “Great,” she mutters.
Back in Siren’s Speakeasy (drink!), the Light Fae are all up in uproar over the human attack—not that any of them is forming a posse to go after Dyson. As Hale enters the room, one demands to know how the humans even managed to get past the enchantments that protect The Dal (drink!). Another screams that they were helped, “by that human the succubus keeps!”
“No!” Hale shouts, pushing through the crowd. “Kenzi single-handedly saved Dyson during the fight with The Garuda when all of you were hiding in your posh homes!” Nice to see someone remembers that! The crowd moans and groans over his well-aimed salvo. “She had nothing to do with this!” Do not go up against the siren about his Kenzi.
“Friends! Elders! Noblemen!” The Morrigan shouts with deliberate over-dramatics. “Shut the hell up and listen!” HA! She takes the dais to address the crowd. Why the head of the Dark Fae is allowed to address the Light Fae elders and noblemen without compunction is still at question. I’m thinking Hale opened himself up to it by inviting her and by having been so keen for them to work together in the first place. There’s also the lack of reason generally ascribed to a mob mentality—and the small fact that it’s in the script.
Evony declares that she and Hale have been trying to broker a peace. By the looks of disbelief being shot at Hale right now, I gather this was not public information…until now. Hale takes the looks of censure and nods along with Evony; he believes in what he’s trying to do and is prepared for the consequences…though perhaps not these exact consequences. “We’ve been trying to find a way to get the Light and the Dark to work together for a common cause,” she continues and claims the need for such an alliance has finally arrived. “But not with him,” she intones darkly, dropping the façade. The crowd erupts in agreement. Hale and Trick silently glare up at her as Evony continues rattling the sabers. “Too long have bleeding hearts like him stood by and let humans believe that they are the superior beings race on this planet!” she declares. “So much so that they’ve had the hubris to plan an attack on the one true race—on our own turf—and get away with it!” She blames Hale’s leadership for allowing the attack to happen. “That is completely unfounded!” Hale finally shouts. But he’s played right into Evony’s hands. “Oh is it really,” she coos. Opening her clutch, she hands over another one of Doctor Lauren’s enzyme vials. Where the hell did she get that? Is The Morrigan in league with Taft?! That would not surprise me at all, actually.
Hale reads the label. Immediately he glances around while he tries to keep others from seeing it. He demands to know where The Morrigan got it. She in turn orders him to read the label aloud so they can all hear. “Let’s see who supplied the poison that took a proud Fae down.” Would that be the same proud Fae you tried to kill multiple times yourself? Finally understanding that he’s been set up, Hale meets Evony’s delighted gaze. “You don’t want to do this,” he warns. “Read it,” she orders without mercy. Hale glances around and the mob closing in around him. “Doctor Lauren Lewis,” he says. The crowd gasps in horror as Trick closes his eyes and ducks his chin. Oh shit. “His own chief medical officer,” Evony crows. “I call for a vote of Noooo Confidence in this fake Ash. As the crowd applauds Evony’s announcement, Hale’s narrowed gaze remains fixed on The Morrigan. This is not over yet.
Outside of a city, a large fighting cage sits in a field next to a posh observatory. Actually, it kinda looks like an old tennis or handball court. Awake but dazed, Dyson is dragged into the cage by the paramedics, who now sport leather combat vests. While they dump him, the enormous observatory doors ponderously winch open. Someone likes to watch. Dyson’s been stripped of his shoes and shirt (Hot Tattoo Alert! Oh, I have missed you!) and—look, the pants are low. Adonis belt low. This is not a complaint. Jaysus. Thank you, KHR. Though that must be some crazy strong double-sided tape on your waistband. Ah—Imma gonna—gulp—I’ll be in my bunk…
Oh, all right, fine.
Paramedic #1 laughs at Dyson as they dump him in the middle of the ring. That asshole needs to die now. Breathing hard, Dyson scrambles to his feet and growls, but the guards are already gone. A processed, disembodied voice speaks over the speakers like Oz from behind the curtain only this particular “curtain” could probably see Pluto, especially now that it’s no longer even a planet. Poor Pluto.
Dyson narrows his eyes as he tries to see across the distance and into the dark void behind the observatory doors at whoever is monologueing. “I applaud your strength, wolf,” Taft says. Come on, it’s Taft, we all know it. “You were given the antidote a full thirty minutes after the neurotoxin was ingested. You’re even stronger than I’d hoped.”
“Why don’t you come down here and I’ll show you how strong I can really be?” Dyson taunts. I VOLUNTEER! Taft mwah ha has—the closed captions actually say “[evil chuckle]” Heee—“No thank you, we’ll meet soon enough.” (Interestingly, the closed captions say “Very strong indeed,” which is why I love watching shows with the captions: every so often you get double for your money.) Dyson wipes the lingering neurotoxin foam from him mouth and spits. “What do you want from me?!” he challenges.
Taft intones that he wants Dyson to prove his worth. Dyson scowls and glares. Splash “Against your mortal enemy,” Taft adds and Dyson goes on wary alert. “I would put the odds at even, I should think,” Taft taunts. Dyson sniffs—even, my ass—and peers at the door on the opposite side of the cage. It opens to reveal a similarly shirtless male Fae with tattoo marks on his forehead and arms who’s wearing some 1970s pimp daddy’s fur vest. By the look on his face, dude has got a serious hate on for Dyson. Must be a doccubus fan.
It’s Faedome! Two Fae enter…one wolf walks out.
“Lupercus,” Dyson says in a low voice. Lupercus paces and growls. Dyson sighs. “Ya know, what do you say you and I forget about thousands of years of hatred between your kind and mine. Try to find a way to get out of here together,” he suggests half-heartedly.
In answer, Lupercus strips off his fur vest to reveal a seriously cut physique. We get a shot from outside the cage and you can barely make out Dyson and Lupercus at opposite ends. Lupercus howls with pre-battle rage. “Have it your way,” Dyson sneers in THAT VOICE. He’s all too ready to rumble. Lupercus flexes and his muscles actually popped out in his chest like Bane getting serum infused. Dyson wolfs out and—his muscles do the same thing! I’m gonna go out on a limb that is some precision CGI there, but even so, I don’t remember seeing Dyson’s physique change that dramatically when he’s wolfed out before. Is that because he’s always been wearing clothes when he wolfs out to that extent (except for the full wolf transformation in S1E2)? Either way I—I—I like it!! They growl at one another and Lupercus attacks. Dyson flips him over his head and down onto the ground. He gets in some hard body punches. Holy crap, but KHR’s arms are long. Lupercus manages to roll him over and get on top (not like that!) He gets a shot in on Dyson’s kidneys and then goes for his throat. Dyson growls and his longer reach holds Lupercus off so Dyson can flip him back over his head again.
Dyson scrambles to his feet and when Lupercus attacks again, he runs straight into Dyson’s outstretched arm. It’s a beautiful move actually complete with full flip from Lupercus. Stunt crew pulled out all the stops on this one. Lupercus is up again in a moment and he and Dyson scrapple, hands and arms scrambling to get the upper—erm— hand. They went all Greek wrestling style here. Suddenly Dyson quick steps backwards and uses the momentum to swing Lupercus around and slam him up against the chain link walls of the cage. The two feral Fae growl in one another’s faces.
Out in the bright light of day
in the suburbs of Toronto, Tamsin and Bo walk down the street. Even more amazing than them out in the daylight is the pale blue tee-shirt Bo is wearing. Great color, but totally out of character. I guess she borrowed a shirt from Tamsin, which tracks considering they were at Doctor Lauren’s flat and Bo probably had nothing left there to wear. Tamsin’s a lot taller than Bo is all and noticeably less busty but that shirt is snug…eh, whatever. Love the color!
Tamsin is holding the doc’s phone and Bo asks if she’s sure “that’s” right. “There’s not much in that part of town,” she points out. Tamsin admits that the phone number wasn’t easy to trace, “believe me, but my guy says that the cell phone’s using towers just north of this compound…” she trails off as they arrive at her truck. “Shit!” she yells. “What now?!” Bo snaps. The truck has been locked down with a boot. Tamsin sighs and then insists that she’s “got it. Get your ass in the truck,” she tells Bo, promising she “won’t be a minute.” She gets some tools out of her truck which looks a lot shabbier than I remember it being before and Bo, for once, does what she’s told without argument and gets in the truck.
Tamsin goes to work on the boot—she does have a Kenzi-esque talent for opening locks and clearly has worked this type of lock before. Inside the cab, Bo peers into the open compartment between the two seats. Mouth agape, she pulls out a plastic bag, full of surveillance shots of Bo. Checking that Tamsin is still occupied with the boot, Bo rummages further and finds the rune glass Acacia gave Tamsin and into which Tamsin put one each of Bo, Dyson, and Doctor Lauren’s hairs. Now though it appears to be empty. Moving quickly, Bo pulls her mobile out from between her breasts—there’s our girl!—and starts taking pictures of her find.
Kenzi trundles down the stairs to Tolkien’s Lair and yells for Trick. Seriously, those shoes make her look like she prancing everywhere. Trick is in a back alcove. He whirls around and quickly shuts the door to a private cupboard. “Kenzi?!” He hurries out and asks what she’s still doing there. “You need to leave!” he orders. Kenzi starts her spiel but Trick cuts her right off. “Go home. Hide. When the dust settles, I’ll come find you, I promise. But you have to go!” Why do I feel like that could be a while? Frustrated, Kenzi throws her arms up in the air but turns to reluctantly leave when her mobile rings.
Bo quickly tells Kenzi that she’s sent a photo and she needs Kenz to find out what it means. “Yeah, things have gone all Tyra back here, babe.” Kenzi downloads her. “The Morrigan is talking smack about claimed humans being criminals and there’s this vote against Hale and they found this thing with (Doctor) Lauren’s name on it,” she finishes in a hushed frightened voice. Bo swears and forcefully instructs Kenzi to get out of The Dal (drink!), “just go somewhere—anywhere!” Kenzi agrees without hesitation. “Promise, promise, promise,” she mutters as she disconnects. Tamsin gets the boot off. “Sucker,” she crows and gets in the truck with a now much more wary Bo.
Still at The Dal (drink!) though now upstairs in the empty tap room, Kenzi holds out her phone to show us the photo Bo sent of Tamsin’s stash, complete with a shot of the rune glass. Unnoticed, Massimo sidles up behind her and looks over her shoulder. “I’ve seen one of those before,” he says. Kenzi whirls around and demands to know why he’s still there. “Because you are,” he confesses. For a moment, Kenzi is flattered. “Yeah well every Fae and his dog wants me gone,” she grouses, “so…toodle-loo – Wank Head.” Ha! Massimo demands to know who the Fae are to tell Kenzi to leave. Shoulders drooped, Kenzi pauses in her exit. “Especially after all that you have done for them,” Massimo adds, pressing his advantage.
But Kenzi is not quite buying it this time. “You don’t know anything about me,” she points out. “I know that you saved that wolf— more than once,” Massimo says, strolling over. “I know that you stared a cherufe in the eye and lived to tell the tale.” Hmm. I may have made a few of those points earlier...
“I know that it isn’t fair that they’re trying to push you out…” here Kenzi frowns and crosses her arms defensively because he’s starting to make too much sense, “when they can only claim to be better than you because they were lucky enough to be born with exceptional gifts. See you—you don’t have any of those gifts. Yet you still fight.” Aw, poor Kenzi. Her expression is so miserable because he just hit every single one of her hot spots in one go. “Anyway,” he dismisses, “I’m interrupting you. You’ve got to go!” He walks away.
Kenzi deliberates for about three seconds and then tells him to wait. Cautiously, she approaches him and then smiles without mirth. “I don’t trust you, okay? But my best friend is in trouble. You want to help me? You want to give me what I desire?” She holds out the phone with the photo. “Then tell me what this vial is.” Massimo says he can do that for a price. Kenzi: “Name it.” Massimo: “A kiss.” Kenzi scoffs. “Hero to dick in like six sentences—you are unbelievable!” Massimo calmly counters that it isn’t like that. “This kind of information requires this kind of tribute,” he explains. “Hey, I don’t make the rules.” Kenzi’s been with the Fae long enough to understand tribute. She sighs and reluctantly agrees, then with a grimace, steps forward and kisses Massimo…deeply…twice. That’s some kind of…tribute there, Kenz.
She steps back from Massimo gasping. “What the hell was that?!” she wonders, a little afraid by the kiss’s intensity. Massimo appears less affected. “That,” he replies, “that was something.” He turns away to walk to the door. Kenzi presses her palm to her lips, still stirred up by the kiss. “Hello?!” she calls. Massimo couldn’t be more suave as he slowly turns around. “Forget much?!” Kenzi snarks with more bite than expected as she takes her confused emotions out on him—and rightly so. “Do you want the right information or the almost right information?” he asks snidely. Annoyed, Kenzi has to admit that she wants the right kind. “Then I’m gonna need a couple of minutes,” he chides and strolls out of The Dal (drink!). Kenzi takes a deep breath and exhales hard. That was some potent man there.
Back in the cage fight, Dyson is beating the holy hell out of Lupercus until Lupercus reverse their positions and gets Dyson up against the fence. Lupercus howls in Dyson’s wolfed out face—and Dyson head butts him like he’s swatting a fly and for one second his body language shouts a nonverbal alpha moment—uck you, puppy. Swing his shoulder down, Dyson presses the advantage and lunges over and under the Lupercus’s guard, wrapping both arms around the Lupercus’s waist from behind. KHR’s stunt double then lifts Lupercus up and falls back onto the ground with him, tossing the other Fae over his head. As Dyson turns over to scramble back onto his feet, the editing gods do this beautiful seamless melding of the stunt double and KHR. It’s obviously his stunt double in that last move, and thank God for that considering the back issues KHR developed doing stunts in S2. But watch for the slow if fuzzy build of KHR’s tattoo on stunt guy as he turns so that by the time Dyson finishes the twist and pushes up to his feet, it’s definitely KHR in play again. Why yes, I did run the switch in slow motion…a few times. Shuddup.
Dyson leaps forward and before the other Fae can recover, he kicks Lupercus in the face. Taft chuckles into the microphone [closed captions: “evil chuckle.” Hee]. Breathing hard, a de-wolfed Dyson glares up at Taft with a death look as Lupercus gets to his feet behind him. Lupercus growls and lunges for Dyson. Wolfing out again, Dyson spins and snatches the other Fae by the throat. I don’t care if it is mostly post-production CGI I love it when Dyson wolfs out! Struggling in his grip, Lupercus slashes his claws across Dyson’s chest leaving behind bloody furrows. For a second, Dyson almost looks insulted as he glances down at the bleeding cuts. But Dyson, you’re covered in sexy wounds! Instantly he rips out Lupercus’s throat. Ewww.
The gasping, dying Fae drops to the ground. Still showing a kill snarl, Dyson looks at the flesh in his hand. With a disgusted roar at being made to kill for someone’s entertainment, he tosses it to the ground as Taft laughs again. Dyson stares with regret at Lupercus whose gushing throat spurts blood onto the ground. Eww again. As Taft laughs with delight, Dyson turns his wrath on the person most deserving of it. He turns to face the distant Taft. “Is that what you want?!” he shouts, enraged. “You’re the one I want!” Yeah, you’re gonna have to get in line on that one, buddy. “I knew it!” he crows. “I knew you were the one!” The enormous doors of the observatory close with a clang.
Bo and Tamsin have arrived at the back end of the observatory and hide behind some tall bushes as they watch a number of black clad guards load up in a truck. “This is bad,” Tamsin says in a low, intense whisper. “I’ve seen this kind of thing before and it is not going to end well for the humans.” She turns back to Bo and pushes her further behind the bushes. “It’s going to get bloody before it gets better. If I were you, I’d get out of town.” Bo is completely lost as to what Tamsin is going on about. “Those guys guarding whatever that place is look just like the guys that took Dyson! And (Doctor) Lauren is missing!” Ugh, we know. And she’s not missing—she left! Of her own free will! And you know that—you found the pendant!
“(Doctor) Lauren is as good as dead!” Tamsin quietly shouts. How does she know that? IF The Morrigan is in league with Taft in some way, maybe turning over Dark Fae for his table, and Tamsin saw some of the negotiating, that might explain it. Or perhaps in her long years as a Valkyrie she’s seen humans go up against the Fae before and knows how it turns out. Either way, she has no reason to think that Doctor Lauren is inside the facility—unless she somehow knew of Taft’s plans…
“No way,” Bo vows. As the truck of guards drives past and Tamsin pushes Bo even farther behind the bushes. “They need me,” Bo tells Tamsin when the guards are gone. “They are my friends. I am not leaving them.”
“Why do you care so much?!” Tamsin asks, emotionally overcome. “Tamsin, what is going on with you?” Bo asks, genuinely concerned with Tamsin’s continuing downward spiral. Tamsin sighs but before she can answer she spies Paramedic #1 coming up behind them, gun at the ready. “Watch out!” she shouts. Before Bo even realizes what’s going on, Tamsin pushes her out of the way just as Paramedic #1 fires and shoots Tamsin in the stomach!
Shocked, Bo holds her arms out wide as Paramedic #1 closes in and takes aim at her. Crouched over cradling her stomach, Tamsin gasps in pain. Her skin retreats back from her skull as Tamsin goes full Valkyrie on the guy. “Are you sure you want to do that, buddy? Huh?” she asks casually. Now trembling so hard the gun is shaking, Paramedic #1 turns it to point as Tamsin’s forehead. She smiles evilly and lifts her brows. “I don’t think those were your orders.” Trembling with the doubt she’s filled him with, Paramedic #1 is an easy mark for Bo’s right hook. Retreating from her Valkyrie states, Tamsin holds one bloody finger up to Bo. “That is the last time I do anything nice for you,” she grunts and then falls to the ground unconscious.
Down in Siren’s Speakeasy (drink!), Hale and The Morrigan stand side by side on the dais as Hale counts the votes against him. “That’s 26 in favor, 13 against. The Morrigan’s motion is passed.” How again does she have the power to even present a motion to the Light Fae Elders? The
mob crowd applauds. “From this day forward,” The Morrigan announces, “all humans claimed or under the employ by the Fae in this territory will be considered terrorist—enemies of the one, true state.” Yeah, just wait until those posh Fae have to scrub their own toilets and we’ll see how your pronouncement holds up then, lady. There’s more applause and Evony preens, but Hale hurries off the dais and pushes through the mob crowd to find Kenzi.
Up in the tap room, Kenzi strolls along next to Massimo as he details what Tamsin is doing to Bo. “Whoever had that bag and the photo and vial is trying to imprison your friend,” he says. Why do I have the feeling that you’re in a unique position to know that? Kenzi demands to know why. “To enslave her, to kill her maybe,” he posits. “I don’t know really.” Before Kenzi can asks anything more, Hale bursts in from the speakeasy. “What are you still doing here?!” he demands of Kenzi and hilariously knocks Massimo out of the way looking with a shot to the shoulder without even looking at him. Too savvy to stick around, Massimo quietly slinks out of door.
Seriously, Kenzi is MUCH too street savvy to be sticking around there knowing what’s happening. She and Massimo could’ve taken this convo outside. Very not-Kenzi behavior. “Look, Bo is in trouble, I think Tamsin is trying to hurt her,” Kenzi rambles, but Hale doesn’t care. “Look, forget about Bo! You have to go!” But hearing Hale repeat Trick’s order is one too many times the people she loves have shoved her away and Kenzi loses it. She swats at Hale. “Stop SAYING that to me! Why does everyone keep saying that to me?!” Because they’re trying to protect you. Girl, you are not this dense! “We all used to be friends, Hale!” she cries and smacks his chest again.
But Hale has had enough too tonight. “Damn it, Kenzi,” he says through clenched teeth as he grabs her arms. “You are not my friend! You’ve never been just a friend!” FINALLY! A little shocked by what he’s revealed, Hale pauses to get a grip. A lot shocked at what he’s revealed, Kenzi gapes at him and goes eerily and suddenly calm. “If anything happens to you,” Hale says emotionally, “I won’t be any good to anyone and right I need to be better than I ever bean.” Crying, Kenzi swats at him again. “Stupid! Why didn’t you tell me that?!” Hale pulls no punches. “’Cause I was scared,” he admits, holding her arms again and not looking away from her for a moment. Poor playa didn’t know what to do with her, and was likely confounded with how to deal with being in love with a human, even one as awesome as Kenzi.
The slow approach of a woman’s heels sounds behind him. “You have to go,” he urges again. But it’s too late. “Saying your good-byes?” Evony trills. The music goes all squirrely as Hale turns to her and a huge tattooed bruiser enters The Dal (drink! no, really) behind Kenzi. “Something like that,” Hale smarms, his hand now on Kenzi’s arm for a totally different reason. The bruiser steps up behind Kenzi but Hale waves him off. “Ah, it’s okay. I got this one.” Hale takes the manacles from him. Confused, Kenzi lets Hale move her around as she looks between him and the bruiser. “Hale,” she says with trepidation as she catches on. She jerks her arm from his hand, but he recaptures her easily. “What are you doing?” But Hale has run out of moves and, for the moment, must play along with Evony.
“Kenzi,” he intones officially as a struggling Kenzi demands he let go of her. “Claimed human of Bo the unaligned succubus, from this day forth, you will be known as an Enemy of the State.” Kenzi is so terrified she can only stand there and tremble. Hale frowns and jerks her forward to kiss her deeply. Girl is getting some action tonight –unfortunately, none of it good. I mean, it’s good. Both men look like they know what they’re doing in that department. Oh, you know what I mean!
Hale uses the kiss as a distraction to slip something in the breast pocket of Kenzi’s jacket. Guess her bra doesn’t come with cleavage pockets. At first I thought it was the key to the manacles, but on closer examination, it looks more like whatever charm Hale’s father provided via Dyson for Hale’s protection. Oh, I really hope that doesn’t blow back on Hale in a bad way!
Too upset to realize what he’s doing for her, Kenzi violently breaks free of the kiss. “Hmm,” Hale says obnoxiously. “Always wondered what a terrorist tasted like. Take her away,” he tells Bruiser. But Kenzi decides that moment is the one for her to FINALLY leave. She prances off in those ridiculous heels, running for Tolkien’s Lair (drink!). With a nod, The Morrigan sends Bruiser off after her.
Downstairs, Trick shoves some small scrolls and various bits of wand into a satchel. He opens the old trunk and carefully pulls back the cloth to reveal the drawing of the winged, fire-breathing horse that he first revealed after Bo went all Super Succubus to save Dyson. He carefully rolls it up and stashes it in the satchel. Putting on his hat, he hurries to the fireplace and pulls a lever. Immediately, and with a lot of creaks and groans the metal hearth folds and a door opens in the wall in the rear of the fireplace. Trick taste a last unhappy look around Tolkien’s Lair and then hurries through the door. Instantly the hearth is restored to its static position…just as Kenzi prances down the stairs and into the room, calling for Trick, her hands still manacled in front of her. She turns in a circle…and bruiser enters Tolkien’s Lair. “Trick?” Kenzi cries softly one last time. But she is wholly and completely on her own.
Over at Taft’s
Evil Lair Lab, Doctor Lauren snags another doctor’s ID badge of her lab coat and swipes her way into Isaac’s secret room.
Outside the observatory, Bo pats Tamsin’s cheek, ‘cause that always rouses a person who’s bleeding out from a gunshot wound! “Come on, babe,” she urges. “Wake up!” I’m wondering for a moment why she doesn’t reverse chi Tamsin back to health, and then I do the math. She hasn’t had sex with Doctor Lauren since before The Dawning, likely not since the events in Brazenwood. Given the unstable state of their relationship at that time, it’s unlikely Bo took part with a random
victim partner. And, of course, Dyson is off limits to Bo for anything like during that era as per the doc’s orders. The timeline suggests it’s only been a few days since Bo and Doctor Lauren broke up during which Bo has been deceiving herself that they were just on a break. So, unlike Ross Geller, she again probably didn’t go out and bang someone random in the interim. Sure, she feed some succubus juice onto the Witches of Faewick and the cul de sac dad, but never took a pure feed. All of which means she likely doesn’t have any spare chi to share to Tamsin right now with which to heal her.
One hand on the wound, Bo is at a loss as to what to do next when Tamsin’s mobile rings. With difficulty, she digs it out of Tamsin’s ass pocket. “I’m busy, what?!” she snaps in a passable imitation of Tamsin’s attitude. Tamsin’s blood is on her palm. “Hello Blondie. It’s the Druid,” Massimo drawls unruffled. We cut back to The Dal (drink!) to watch him walk through the empty tap room as he says the rest. Where did Evony and Hale go? “Just thought you’d like to know I’ve secured the kiss from the best friend; the serum to contain the succubus is ready.” Which explains why the rune glass was empty when Bo discovered it in Tamsin’s truck. “Great,” Bo says without meaning it, as some of the pieces of Tamsin’s odd behavior fall into place. “I’ll be in touch.” She disconnects and dumps the phone on the far side of Tamsin. “Oh Tamsin,” she moans. “You stupid, stupid girl.” I honestly thought that was going to end with “bitch” and think it’s a measure to how much Tamsin now means to Bo and Dyson that Bo doesn’t automatically turn against her. Instead, she knows now that there’s more going on over which Tamsin is torturing herself.
Stunned by what she’s seeing, Doctor Lauren slowly makes her way around the corner and down an aisle between two lines of mostly empty, glass-encased holding cells. “(Doctor) Lauren!” Dyson shouts from within one of the cells. His chest is still marked with bloody furrows and Lupercus’s blood still stains his hands. Even more shocked if that’s possible, Doctor Lauren hurries over to him. “Dyson?! Oh my God,” she cries as he pounds on the wall of his cell twice, hard. “I don’t suppose you’re part of a rousing rescue?” he quips without humor. Doctor Lauren asks what happened to him. “I was drugged,” he tells her checking behind her and still confused as to what exactly is going on, “and I woke up and…I was fighting—I… ” He stops, finally getting a good look at her and takes in her presence, her lab coat…and her freedom. “What are you doing here?” he asks warily, smelling a skunk ape. But the doc doesn’t make any inquiries as to his current state of injury and health. Instead she immediately demands he listen to her. “There’s a sample in the lab upstairs—n enzyme from a mature succubus—from her immune system,” she clarifies when Dyson frowns, not following her meaning. So the enzyme Taft gave Doctor Lauren to apply to the neurotoxin and thus possibly cure heart disease came from…a mature succubus. Now I buy that she was able to ascertain what was on the slide because she’s spent weeks—-no, months, examining Bo’s cellular structure any which way she can. She absolutely would be able to recognize the enzymes of a mature succubus immune system. Yes, I didn’t just validate Doctor Lauren for something. Try not to pass out. I’m sure I’ll return to form momentarily. “Is Bo here?” she asks Dyson tearfully. Wouldn’t that be precious if she’d been experimenting with Bo’s DNA while Bo was locked in the dungeon?
Alas, but no. “Who’s Bo?” Taft asks surprising them. “Do you have any idea what you’re meddling with?!” the doc demands to know. “Do you have any idea what you’re meddling with?” Taft shoots back with more than a touch of mania. He smirks and steps up to Dyson’s cage. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this,” he tells Doctor Lauren. “I wanted to tell you—do you know how long I’ve been planning this?” She says his name quietly, finally recognizing the crazy before her. “Since I was a kid,” he continues as though she didn’t speak. “Forty years they’ve been laughing at me—forty years. You have any idea how gratifying –” he chuckles with satisfaction and stares at Dyson “this is going to be?”
Dyson looks at Taft with the wary eye of you are bat shit crazy, man. His attention turns to Doctor Lauren when she protests that Taft used her research to poison her friend. Aw, sweet that she calls Dyson her friend without thinking twice about it. “You lied to me!” she accuses, hurt. Sucks, doesn’t it doc? Taft explodes. “It was not your research, IT WAS NOT YOUR RESEARCH! It was MY research.” He stops and goes from 100 mph to a school zone speed in the blink of an eye. “But yeah, that’s fair, I used you,” he agrees. “I’ll continue using you.”
With a growl, Dyson slams his bloody hand against the glass by Taft’s face, startling the human enough to jump. Pleased at Dyson’s show of strength, Taft grins at him. “That was your mass grave,” Dyson shouts. “You’re the one that’s hunting us!” Taft is enraptured by Dyson. “My goodness,” he praises. “He’s magnificent, isn’t he?” he says to Doctor Lauren. “You’re magnificent!” he calls to Dyson without waiting for her response. WE KNOW. “I can’t wait to be like you!” Taft gloats. “It’s gonna be fun,” he promises Doctor Lauren with shades of the Taft that charmed her in the first place. “It’s gonna be fun!” he repeats. He’s not Oz, he’s not a megalomaniac; Taft’s just a little boy with too much money and power who thinks he can do whatever he wants to whomever he wants just because he can. He’s a sociopath.
Doctor Lauren is dazed and confused—literally. The shock of what she’s been a party to, however unknowingly, has left her mute and pliable. Taft hurries past her, and then seems to think twice about that and turns back to gently if firmly clasp Doctor Lauren’s waist and arm. “I really want you to understand…how important our work… is going to be,” he says as he leads a malleable Doctor Lauren to the cell next to Dyson’s and codes it open. As the seal breaks and hisses, a young woman looks up from where she sits on the floor of the cell. All those empty pods and Doctor Lauren has to share? Taft enters the pod with Doctor Lauren who glances down at the woman until Isaac calls her attention back to him. “Hey.” As Dyson avidly watches, Taft clasps Doctor Lauren hands in his between them. He grins at the doc. “We’re going to do great things together,” he promises pressing her hands together between his own as she frowns up at him, “you and I. (Doctor) Lauren,” he stresses, a subtle reminder of the secret he holds regarding her fugitive state. ”I never lied to you about that,” he reminds her. He smiles again and then leans down and kisses her hands before hopping out of the pod and locking it behind him with the doc still inside. As he pulls back from the doc and her hands drop, Dyson comes into view, brow furrowed as he looks between the doc and Taft and tries to put the pieces together to figure out just what how big a clusterfae Doctor Lauren has gotten him and indeed all of the Fae into. All this while, all Doctor Lauren can do is frown and blink at Taft.
Trick climbs up from Tolkien’s Lair and into a traditional barbershop. Keeping his face turned away from the patrons, he hurries out the front door…and is immediately snatched up by two suited goons. “Nooooo!” he cries as they carry him off unimpeded. “You don’t really know who I am!” Trick protests as the goons shove him into the trunk of a town car. “You’re making a big mistake –” but they slam the trunk closed and cut him off. As the town car pulls away, the camera lingers on the license plate which reads ADGR-926. I—have no idea what that means.
In Pod City, Doctor Lauren has roused from her shock. She presses up against the glass wall of her cell that is right next to Dyson’s pod. “Dyson?!” she shouts. Dyson slowly eases into view and—oh, that is one unfriendly look he’s giving the doc. All their progress together has been eradicated. For the first time, he looks at her with profound distrust and a little distaste as though she’s just a…human. “Dyson?” she whispers plaintively, crushed by his demeanor. “I’m so sorry,” she cries as he steps closer. “I had no idea.”
But Dyson is not interested in the doc’s excuses. “He’s been hunting us…torturing us,” he tells her darkly. “Making us fight each other like dogs!” he shouts, enraged again. “I didn’t know,” the doc moans, devastated. “Hale told you not to GO!” Dyson yells. “He lied to me!” the doc yells back, and I think here she means Taft. “This is why you can’t leave the Fae, (Doctor) Lauren,” Dyson instructs her in a hard if calmer voice. “Why you can never leave.”
It’s a little weird that at the end of S2, Dyson urges Doctor Lauren to run and “be free” and now, at the end of S3 he’s laying down the law that she can never leave. That could be seen as sloppy writing or it can be looked at as Dyson having realized over the course of S3 (and having run off twice himself at end of S1 and again late in S2) that running doesn't work. It could also be his conviction/conclusion just from their current situation that Doctor Laurenclearly cannot be allowed to leave the Fae because her extensive knowledge of the Fae makes her a target and puts them all in danger. She's playing in a world she can never fully understand and what she has felt to be imprisonment has occasionally been meant for her own protection. Certainly, that was Hale's main intent.
In the Witches of Faewick episode, Hale asserted that Doctor Laurenwas at risk away from the Fae with seemingly no basis, but then he wouldn’t think that, as The Ash, he would have to explain his orders. Perhaps it was due to the charged political climate versus humans that Evony took advantage of to generate the No Confidence vote, a climate of which Doctor Laurenwould not have been aware. It would also belatedly explain why she was working out of her home lab rather than the compound. Hale could’ve been trying to keep Doctor Laurenoff the growing Fae anti-human radar. Plus it puts added weight on Hale's decision to operate out of his own secure turf at Siren's Speakeasy (drink!) rather than in the dangerous and unfamiliar halls of The Ash's compound.
In his position as Hale's confident, it's reasonable that, were this so, Dyson would’ve been more informed of the political situation than Doctor Lauren,especially considering that he and Tamsin were supposed to be the guinea pigs of the Dark/Light alliance, which appears to be linked with this anti-human agenda that's percolated all season. How else might Dyson know that Hale had told Doctor Laurennot to go? He genuinely did not know when he and Bo were in the flat or when they were together in The Dal. And Bo was coming back from getting the information about Doctor Laurenfrom Hale when she found Dyson unconscious. So presumably she'd not yet been able to update him. But he just yelled at Doctor Laurenthat Hale told her not to leave. So had she asked before and been shut down then too? Is that why Dyson was not initially as worried as Bo because he knew Hale had issued the order before and, after she's had nearly 8 years of being claimed by The Ash, he had no overt reason to think Doctor Laurenwould buck that order now?
Inquiring minds want to know…but right now, Doctor Lauren’s pod mate wants to know if the doc has seen her husband, “they took him!” As Dyson watches, the still doc apologizes and says she doesn’t know who the woman is talking about. “Gerry, his name is Gerry,” the woman says frantically. “They said he would kill me if he didn’t do it!” Dyson ducks his head as Doctor Lauren asks, “If he didn’t do what?”
“This,” he announces in THAT VOICE. He casts a bitter, pitying glance at the pod mate and then his eyes flick over to the doc. “To me.” Horrified, the doc looks him up and down, finally taking in what has been done to him as she realizes all that Taft did, all that she is complicit in, in order to capture and torture Dyson. “He did fine,” Dyson assures the pod mate. “Trust me. Looks like you’re gonna live,” he promises with deliberate emphasis and a little bite that shows he doesn’t expect the same to be his fate.
“What about my daughter?!” another woman cries out from the pod across the aisle. “Is she safe?!” Dyson and Doctor Lauren’s head both whip up and around to see whose speaking. Dyson’s gaze narrows and he bends over and peers intently as his eyes and mind try to make sense of the woman he sees. “My daughter! Where…my daughter…where….?” Doctor Lauren stares at the woman in shock and finally the camera swings over to reveal…”Aoife?!” Dyson calls. Crazy as a loon, Aoife presses up against the glass of her pod. “Eh, my daughter. She twitches against the glass. “No,” she says and then drops out of sight.
Next week: Season 3 Finale: Those Who Wander
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