We're delighted to again be recapping Lost Girl, now airing its fourth season in the United States. Don't forget to check into all our Lost Girl coverage, but be warned there are discussion posts for later episodes (we've been talking about the show as it airs in Canada) that contain SPOILERS. Thanks, and please weigh in with your comments!
This post contains spoilers for all aired episodes of Lost Girl, including last night’s 4x01, “In Memoriam."
A jalopy truck with a flatbed pulls into a warehouse in the middle of the night. As the disembodied driver—as in, “we only see his feet,” not as in “his body is missing.” I know; it’s Lost Girl. Could go either way. Anyway, as the disembodied driver walks away, Kenzi drops down from her hiding spot in the jalopy’s undercarriage, a lovely callback to how she got into the glass factory in S1E1, and hurries over in her stiletto boots to hide behind a front loader. “Oh boo ya!” she cheers. “Now let’s see what all the fuss is about.” Kenzi
Hidden, she watches as the two nameless (but not body-less) henchmen in monk robes load a large basket onto the jalopy’s flatbed, because we’re apparently watching Raiders of the Lost Fae. I swear I just saw Doctor Lauren with a monkey on her shoulder peek out of the basket and wail “
Innnddddeeeeee Boooooooo!” just before the truck she’s stashed on exploded. Kenzi twitches with delight. “This is so Raiders!” Oh Lost Girl, how I’ve missed your shameless if inconsistent self-awareness! “Here’s hoping this Ark contains less Nazi-faced-melting goodness!” she adds.
The Monk Men look at each other shiftily and then depart. Kenzi scrambles from hiding and up on the flatbed where the basket has been tied down. She gingerly lays her hands on the top of it. “Oh, the Una Mens,” she whispers. But before she can do anything else, a man grabs her up from behind, muffling her mouth. Kenzi squirms but she’s well and truly caught. “Indeed, they are coming,” her captor intones. “And they will be hungry.” Kenzi squeaks as he drags her away.
On her feet again, Kenzi demands “Zombie Boy” to let her go as Henchman hustles her from the warehouse. “Whicher, hang on,” Hale (HALE!) calls. He and Dyson (hel-lo lovah!) quickly stride down the warehouse row. Still hanging in Whicher’s grip, Kenzi gets this satisfied, borderline naughty look on her face when she sees the pair. “She is claimed,” Whicher points out, “yet dares to defile the blood laws. She will be delivered to the Una Mens.” Kenzi snaps that he needs to be delivered to a dentist, “your breath smells like the anus of a yeti.” And we’re back!
Whicher thinks this is bold talk for someone who attacked a place of sanctuary. That warehouse is a sanctuary? Those are some low standards you got there, um…Which. Dyson, clipboard inexplicably in hand, insists in THAT VOICE that Whicher is making a mistake and should let Kenzi go. “I keep telling you,” Kenzi sneers. “I am not human.”
She elbows free of Whicher and takes a few steps backward toward Hale and Dyson. Kenzi folds inward dramatically, rolling her shoulders up and around. Suddenly she bursts up and throws her hands out. Sparkles erupt around her. So, Kenzi is now…Jubilee? Behind her, Hale still looks concerned, but Dyson’s expression is all “oh-kay” and he hilariously rolls his eyes around the arc made by the sparkles as gets Kenzi her show on. She shifts on her feet all bring it on, Which. They all take a moment to take in the dangerous…sparkly lights Kenzi now appears to be able to generate at will. Even Whicher kinda gives her a look that says that’s it? I’m getting the sense that this is the first time our guys have seen her party trick.
The sparklers are, judging by Kenzi’s face as she faces Hale and Dyson, starting to burn. Kenzi blows out one hand and shakes it while she gives Dyson the universal head jerk of that’s your cue. “That’s cute,” he quips, then ponderously points out to Whicher that she cannot be the
droids one he’s looking for as she’s, “All Fae, baby,” Kenzi drawls and shoots an extra oomph of sparklers toward her groin. “Feel the heat!”
Whicher wonders how it’s possible he was mistaken and there’s still a question in his voice. “Hey, pobody’s nerfect,” Kenzi quips. Hale hurries forward before Kenzi undoes all their work and assures “His Emissary” aka Whicher that he and Dyson will get Kenzi away from the sanctuary. “The next time I see this one, her skin will line the Una Mens holy chambers,” Whicher warns. Bet he didn’t see that on an HGTV show. Kenzi tches at him as Hale hustles her away. Dyson stands his ground until they’re clear then slowly follows, pausing to stare with the aura of Great Concern at the Raiders basket—the Rasket?—still tied to the jalopy’s flatbed.
Hale and Kenzi wait for Dyson at the front of the jalopy. “I totally had him,” Kenzi complains as Dyson joins them. “Let’s go,” Hale urges. “Thanks Detective Do-Nothings,” Kenzi grouses as they leave. “What, you couldn’t have whomped his ass with your massive wolf paws?” “What, and miss the show?” Dyson replies in an overly warm voice that he usually uses only with Bo…in Bo’s bed. “Nice work, Sparky,” he teases with a toothy grin and an eye-brow waggle. Kenzi gives him a sly smile as Hale nervous nellies that it was too close. “These temporary powers are not a good idea,” he warns. Kenzi insists they’re necessary as she’s now a terrorist. Dyson’s silently holds them up as he looks back toward where they left Whicher and the Rasket. “You terrorists all smell like sunflowers and chardonnay?” Hale murmurs in his own version of THAT VOICE. Dyson and Kenzi both give him what did you say? looks and suddenly it’s all AWKWARD. “Oh-kay,” Dyson finally says, breaking the tension as Hale grimaces. “I’m gonna take Tinkerbelle home, all right?” He passes the clipboard off to Hale. Giving his partner an arch, amused look, Dyson mockingly motions for Kenzi to precede him, “After you.” Hale says he’ll take care of the paperwork. I think he’s blushing. With Kenzi out of ear shot, Dyson takes the piss outta Hale a bit and whispers, “Sunflowers? Nice,” making an A-OK sign with his fingers. Snort. Hale spreads his arms and shrugs. What?! I laughed hard at that gibe. And then rewound. Man, it’s nice to see the guys back in rhythm with each other again.
Back at Hilton Hovel—oh, how I’ve missed you!—which is strewn with Kenzi’s clothes including a thong hanging on the doorknob, Dyson strolls through the common room and inhales deeply. “No one’s here, Dyson,” Kenzi calls dryly from off-screen. “Stop sniffing.” Given the belts that fasten across the front of it, Dyson’s vest looks like it comes from the couture line Vests in Bondage. “Just you, me, and the, ah, thongs, huh,” he notes. “That’s a whole lotta thongs, by the way.” Kenzi steps out from the dressing screen in Bo’s kimono? She cagily says that these are all business thongs. Amused, Dyson rumbles that he doesn’t even want to know what that means.
He tosses his jacket on something and grins as he says how he can see how she could use all the stuff, “Fills the place up a bit.” Hilton Hovel does appear to be lacking some of its…furniture. Looks like Kenzi is living and sleeping in the common room too. They step around each other as Kenzi insists she’s not lonely, “if that is what you’re asking…Wolfie.” Guys, I hate to say it, I really hate to say it, but I think they’re…flirting? Yeesh. This is going to give me nightmares, isn’t it?
Dyson chuckles. “I wasn’t, actually.” They smile at each other and then Dyson closes in on Kenzi. “Why would you be lonely with me here?” Ohhhhh no. Oh nonononono. “That is a very…good…question,” Kenzi whispers. There is no music, absolutely zero extra sound, as if the world itself is holding its breath in horror at what’s before it as Dyson takes Kenzi’s face in his hands and kisses her. And they are into it, like mega, major steps-away-from-getting-it-on into it. Oh just gag me with an entire place setting.
Dyson pulls back. “Shit,” he swears trying to catch his breath. Catch it and keep it to yourself! Kenzi laughs. “Are all wolves this romantic?” Dyson chuckles and admits he was just thinking about Hale. “That’s very open-minded of you,” she deadpans. Kyson. Threesomes. Wow, we’re just name-checking all kinds of alternate faebles this season and we’re still in the premiere’s cold open! More serious, Dyson reminds them both that Hale is crazy about Kenzi. He crouches down so they’re at eye level. “Since when are we…this?” he asks, sincerely bewildered. Such a good question. I have the answer! YOU’RE NOT!! Step away from the faecest, Wolfie.
There’s a knock at the door! Thank the unholy Fae! “More council douche-hats?” Kenzi gripes. Dyson disagrees as Kenzi moves to answer the door. “Smells a little too...” his brow furrows as if he’s trying to place something familiar “…pleasant.” Kenzi yanks open the door to reveal…a demurely-dressed Aoife? Complete with black sheath dress, not so much as a hint of cleavage, and a hat with veil. All black, natch. Without a word, Kenzi slams the door in her face. At the last minute, Aoife blocks it with the toe of her righteous designer stilettos, which also reveals her sexy black, patterned stockings with a seam up the back of her legs. Ah, there’s a shade of the real Aoife. She begs Kenzi not to shut her out. “I need to speak to the talented private investigator. My name is Aoife.” As Dyson slowly comes into the background, Kenzi frowns as she remembers Aoife. “You made Ash-who-talks-like-Batman go boom.” Ha! Another season one shout out! Love. It.
Aoife smiles and strokes Kenzi’s bare arm, pouring on the succujuice. Kenzi goes down (not like that!) as Dyson sidles up right behind Kenzi with an unfriendly if knowing look for Aoife’s hand on Kenzi’s. “Suede in this weather?” Kenzi murmurs with a covetous look at Aoife’s shoes. “You beautiful bad ass.” Heh. Dyson orders Aoife to let Kenzi go. Aoife immediately releases her and hurries to assure them she didn’t come there to fight. “I need help finding my daughter,” she explains. Aoife takes a deep breath as if she’s about to reveal something important. “Her name is Bo.” Oh look, she did. Dyson and Kenzi take a weighted pause and Dyson quietly repeats Bo’s name. He and Kenzi exchange puzzled looks. “Kind of a dude’s name,” Kenzi snarks. “Am I right?”
A full six minute cold open and already an epic ton better than the entire first half of season three. We’re back!
Kenzi, Dyson, and Aoife are in a diner together, so I guess détente has been achieved. Kenzi clarifies that Aoife is a succubus. “The succubus,” Dyson emphasizes carefully, “who tried to assassinate the Light Fae elders.” Aoife rolls her eyes. “I was agitated.” Dyson blinks at her, amused by her phrasing. “And now?” Aoife shrugs. “I’m less agitated.” Heh. I love Aoife, I won’t lie. She claims she now has a higher purpose, “to find the daughter that I’ve lost.” There’s a double meaning in that one. Kenzi and Dyson exchange speaking glances clearly unsure whether to trust Aoife. She and Dyson reach for the sugar dispenser at the same time and their hands meet. “Oh,” Aoife sighs with a sexy smile. “We’ve met before.” Dyson pulls free and snits that Aoife didn’t make much of an impression. Aoife snickers. “Darling, I’ve ‘met’ many men before and whatever they claim later in front of their lady friends,” here her gaze slides to Kenzi, “they’re always impressed.” Dyson ducks his head and looks at Kenzi who smiles tightly. Don’t worry about it. Aoife clarifies that, even so, she was speaking more recently, “at Taft’s…lab.” Now Dyson remembers Aoife was there and they exchange the knowing looks of people who’ve been imprisoned together and do not talk about it.
Kenzi clears her throat and clarifies that Aoife is looking for her 30-year-old daughter, “a grown daughter no one has ever heard of or seen?” Aoife agrees that it’s true there are no records or physical evidence that she gave birth. “Though a succubus’s body is her weapon so there’d be no wear and tear, so to speak.” She looks Dyson up and down. “Would you like to see for yourself?” Dyson silently chides Aoife: Behave. “Scanning for stretch marks? Pass,” Kenzi sneers.
Sincere again, Aoife insists she knows in her heart that she gave birth to a baby girl and that she would’ve named her after her own mother. Ain’t no spell can wipe a child from its mother’s maternal memory. “And I know is this is her. I knew as soon as I found the photo.” She digs in her purse for the picture in question. “Five bucks says it’s a picture of her cat,” Kenzi faux whispers to Dyson. “I’m not crazy,” Aoife snaps, offended, as if she’s been called that before. She clears her throat as she reigns in her temper and Kenzi has the grace to look sheepish.
Aoife displays the picture and it’s Bo in shades and tennis whites from when she was posing as Dyson’s wife in S1E12 (Dis)Members. Oddly enough, that’s the same episode in which Aoife first met and almost immediately raped Dyson. Hmm. In the picture, Bo’s hair is arranged exactly the same way as Aoife’s is now. Well, technically I guess it’d be the other way around. Dyson takes the photo and stares down at it, visibly moved. “This woman is…beautiful,” he murmurs as though unable to stop himself. Aggravated, Kenzi snatches the photo from his hand and studies. “Yeah, if you’re into faces and bodies. Whatever.” Folding the picture back in half she tells Aoife they’re not interested in the case. Aoife is unruffled. “You’re skeptical, I get it. My daddy didn’t raise no fool.” No, he definitely did not.
Aoife carefully pulls down the lower lid of her eye to reveal a floating disk in her cornea. Dyson goes on alert. “That’s a recuerdo coil,” Dyson says. “That’s hard proof that a Fae has been messing with her memory,” he explains to Kenzi. Aoife claims she just wants to know why and insists that she’ll pay well, which is all it ever takes to convince Kenzi. “One daughter coming right up! With, you know, expenses. Naturally.” Aoife agrees and they smile at one another, for the moment in accord.
Dyson’s mobile rings an alarm and he excuses himself from the ladies…but Kenzi objects: “Now?!” Standing, Dyson leans down to be nearly nose to nose with her. I’m okay for the moment, just, no further! “Same time every day,” he reminds her gently. Aoife watches their interaction with interest. “You’ve been going for a month and you have found squat!” Kenzi snaps. Dyson sighs. “She rescued me.” Kenzi: “Dyson, she drove you off a cliff!” So we’re talking about Tamsin then. Dyson reminds Kenzi he would’ve died if he hadn’t shifted, “that’s why I need to find Tamsin. Find out why.” Kenzi holds up Bo’s picture to pretend as though she’s blocking a now amused Aoife from hearing their conversation. It also handily creates the visual of Bo being between Dyson and Kenzi. “Okay, well, then you owe me for leaving me alone with the client…and the tab!” she hisses. The two of them turn in tandem to smile at Aoife. “Good news,” Dyson chimes. “She’s gonna take your case. And you’re lucky,” he adds with raw affection in his voice. “’Cause Kenzi is the best.” That she is. Exeunt Dyson.
Aoife chimes in that she’d also like to get going. “It’s Fleet Week.” It’s Fleet Week in Faeville?! I want to go there. The waitress brings over the check and holds it out to Aoife. “Can I get you anything else?” she asks in a snit. “Allow me,” Aoife says to Kenzi. Instead of taking the check, she takes the waitress’s arm and pours on the succujuice. “I’m a little short right now,” she murmurs as the waitress goes under. “Maybe I could come back some time and…make it up to you?” As Aoife works her wiles, Kenzi looks over, but instead of Aoife, she sees season one Bo making the same moves on what turns out to be the same waitress from S1E1! “God…yes,” the waitress gushes to Aoife as she once gushed long ago to Bo too. Puzzled by the memory image, Kenzi frowns but shakes it off to admire Aoife’s work. “Lady, what you need is some kind of manager!”
Guys, I am digging these season one shout outs! It’s like the showrunners are saying to us yes, we know we got way off the reservation. We’re fixing it, we promise. Though that could still just be my faentasy. Time will tell.
Outside, Dyson stands at the cliff edge and remembers his Thelma and Louise moment with Tamsin as they went over the cliff in her truck. We get a flashback to that moment when he wolfed out at the end of the season three finale (noticeably lacking the Smoke Monster that covered him at the time.) Back in the present, he sighs and sniffs for Tamsin’s scent but, again, comes up empty.
Down in Tolkien’s Lair, Trick is puzzling over a machine that goes whirl whirl chicka chicka bong bong. Kenzi fingers one of the chains on the machine and wonders if it’s Trick’s new hobby or if it’s because of what happened between him and Stella. This gets Trick’s attention and he insists that nothing happened. “Nothing happened like ‘it’s just a break’ or nothing like ‘you knocked her up’?” Ignoring her interrogation, Trick admonishes her not to touch the machine. “Something’s out of step; someone’s been messing with the balance of space and time,” he intones. That’s what happens when you mess with all that wibbly wobbly timey wimey stuff. Kenzi’s money is on the new council. “They seem really easily butt hurt.”
Trick sighs heavily and moves off to take a small basket out from under the desk as he Trickopedias that the Una Mens are a near-omniscient Fae authority whose sole purpose “is to ensure the old laws are followed.” Kenzi groans as though she’s heard this a dozen times already. Trick opens the basket to reveal a Lindor truffle, or possibly a Fae hairball. Again, could go either way with this show. Kenzi flips through a book and then catches a glimpse of Trick’s hairball. “What’s with the seed?” she asks cautiously. Trick explains it’s a symbol of the Una Mens. “They’re descending on our little colony because things have gotten real messy in the past few years.”
Kenzi: “I blame Bieber Fever.” Heh.
Kenzi cagily asks if the Una Mens would do memory loss but Trick decides they wouldn’t stoop to something so…subtle. Kenzi explains she has a new client and needs a bead on a local Fae who can cause amnesia. This pings for Trick who flips through his card catalog and pulls out the address of a Doctor Snook (not to be confused with Snooki), an ortenax, or fish Fae, who feeds off memories and moonlights as an eye doctor. Kenzi: “Trout-tometrist, got it!” But the doctor thing has pinged for Kenzi and she asks if Trick or anyone has heard from Doctor Lauren. Again, Trick sighs heavily. “She tricked Taft during surgery after disobeying the Ash,” he recounts for the folks at home. “She abandoned the Light Fae!” Trick is speaking truth tonight! “She saved Dyson’s life!” Kenzi exclaims. What the huh now? They don’t even have their real memories yet and already the show is retconning DoctorFrankenbitch back to WonderLauren?! I’m shocked! Shocked, I say! “It’s always been difficult to know what makes Doctor Lewis tick,” Trick bites out. Preach it, Trickster. Preach it all season long. Kenzi defends Doctor Lauren, claiming that it’s just because she’s awkward and formal and shy. Not to mention untrustworthy, deceptive, elitist, and passive-aggressive. “The love of her life is dead. (Doctor) Lauren lost Nadia and then had to keep working for the people who killed her.” Kenzi adds that Doctor Lauren is the only human ally she’s got, “Even though I’m barely human these days.”
Trick offers that they have people looking for Doctor Lauren. But not too hard, right Trick? “Yeah, I’ve heard that one before, Gramps,” Kenzi scoffs. She immediately flinches as Trick recoils slightly in shock and then bends her a raised eyebrow look. Gramps? “Trickster,” Kenzi corrects haltingly. “Trick. Sir.” Guess in BizzaroFae, Kenzi is Trick’s human granddaughter. She gives him an elaborate curtsey/bow and thanks him for Doctor Snook’s address as she hurries out of Tolkien’s Lair. “Just be careful out there!” Trick calls after her. He picks up a stuffed basket. “Evil comes in many faces!” He puts it on top of another, crushing The Wanderer Tarot card in the process that was left behind after Bo was SmokeNapped, the one that also features Bo. On the top of the card is MMXV, which are Roman numerals for 2015. I really hope that doesn’t mean we won’t meet The Wanderer until S5 in late 2014 because that is just too damn long for that storyline to drag out.
Dyson and Kenzi enter a posh optometrist’s waiting room. Low-voiced, Dyson notes the plethora of Gucci and Prada while Kenzi notes the dermabrasions and Botox. She greets the receptionist cheerily and Dyson ask “Janet” if the doc is in, “we need to see him” in THAT VOICE. “Now with a smile like that you could talk me into your bed,” Janet admits, channeling a good percentage of heterosexual women everywhere, “but not through those doors.” She tells them to skedaddle before she calls the “real” cops. “Or,” Kenzi says, leading. “Or,” Dyson repeats with cheek. He knows what’s coming next.
In a very Bo move, Kenzi drags the protesting Janet through the back door by her ear while Dyson strolls unruffled in their wake. “Sit,” Dyson orders Janet as Kenzi dumps her in a chair. “Stay,” he says pointedly at the riled KenziBo. “Roll over,” Janet drawls, quick on the uptake and dry as a martini. Oh I like Janet. Kenzi is entranced by Doctor Snook’s current patient. “Jeepers Peepers!” Doctor Snook is using his talents on a rich blonde trophy wife; her nervous husband hovers behind her. Snook tells the wife not to fire the nanny, that there was no affair and her husband was only helping “Olga” stretch. KenziBo sneers to Dyson about Snook’s “noble calling” helping wives forget their husbands’ infidelities. Dyson interrupts Snook. “Seems you’ve messed with the wrong people’s memory.” Snook has Janet take care of the wife while KenziBo shoots “nice one, buddy,” at the departing husband. Snook tries to slip past the “curious carps” but KenziBo stops him. “Snook! Chill. We just want to ask you some questions.” Snook tells them he only does memory extractions, not restorations, “Although that is some beautiful work.” Dyson peers at Kenzi as she recoils. “What are you talking about?” Dyson gently pulls Kenzi’s lower eye lid down to reveal the same kind of memory spot Aoife has in her eye. “Guess we forgot,” he intones.
Snook examines Dyson’s baby blues. “As expected, the shifter does have a recuerdo coil but as Snook explained, this is not my work.” Freaked, Kenzi sums up that Snook is saying someone’s been in their minds extracting their memories. “This is very disturbing,” Dyson says, disturbed. Kenzi very much agrees. “I could be famous.” She gasps with an idea. “I could be a Kardashian!” Now that was all Kenzi. Dyson gives her A Look. “You could be shy.” Ha. Serious again, he asks Snook who would have the power to cause amnesia in both humans and Fae. “Someone very talented and someone infinitely more powerful than Snook.” Kenzi and Dyson look dire. Snook’s habit of addressing himself in the third-person entertains me greatly.
Down in Tolkien’s Lair, Trick tells Kenzi that with a memory spell of such magnitude, the only thing that can break it is to find and shatter the recuerdo compass. “Wicked.Vault it to me,” Kenzi quips. Trick just looks at her. “Ebay? Fae jiji?” Sighing heavily, Trick ignores this and explains that the compass was lost off the shores on Madagascar when the Esme Fierce ran aground. He goes on that recent rumor is someone’s paid bunches to have the ship salvaged. Engelram the Collector now has the recuerdo compass. “Last bash before the Una Mens permanently party poops all over this town, Engelram?” Kenzi asks. Trick is surprised Kenzi knows about it. “Ugh, I hear he keeps his gallery of antique-y Fae swag well under lock and key.” This time, Trick’s look is all wry amusement. “What? I keep tabs on wealthy Fae dealings. For
a friend my science,” Kenzi says, sheepish. Just in case, she’s going to have Dyson score them some tickets to the “loser recluse’s shit show.” Trick teases her about not being a fan of “a nice strawberry social.” Kenzi goes off on how she doesn’t enjoy watching the Fae dance and drink knowing they feed off her kind, “that their whole Dark/Light system is completely hypocritical?! No thank you.” Trick tries to lighten the mood by reminding Kenzi she’ll get to wear a pretty dress. Kenzi looks like that’s at least a high point and then, gathering up her bag, tells Trick she has to “jet.”
Trick asks if Kenzi is forgetting something. “We’re all forgetting something,” she replies cagily. Heh. But Trick has a more specific item in mind. “My kingmoor ring?” He waves one hand come on back now. Petulant but knowing she’s been caught, Kenzi plops her bag on the table, digs the ring case out, and slams it on the desk before Trick. He thanks her and asks if there’s anything else. With a guilty look and a clanging noise from her bag, Kenzi pulls out a few other things, including a collectable porcelain doll. “My ‘Last of the Summer’s Eve’ collector’s item!” Trick objects. “You know they only made a thousand of these?!” Kenzi, unrepentant: “A girl’s gotta eat.” She dumps more things on the table, and Trick gets caught up by one photo. “What’s this?” he asks. It’s the photo of Bo as Mrs. Thornwood from S1E12 that Aoife gave her. Trick picks it up and the music gets squirrely. Trick’s hand trembles with effort to hold on to the photo and the veins in his arms go black as some unseen power tries to rip the picture, and the memory, from Trick’s grip. He drops the picture back on the table as Kenzi asks if he’s okay. “Tell me everything you know about your client,” Trick says, ominously.
In his office, Vex faces Evony’s portrait enshrined behind his desk. The desk itself is covered with paperwork, scrolls, and fool scrap demanding the attention of The Morrigan. He says he’s not angry; he’s genuinely intrigued. Spinning the desk chair around, he tells the waiting designer, to whom he was speaking all the while, that “when I say ‘design me one last costume befitting the new Dark Fae leader,’ why do you hear, ‘dress me like an asexual hobo?’” Ha! The designer stutters over a reply as she gestures to the green velvet robe and cravat on the mannequin nearby, but Vex really isn’t interested. “Engelram’s party is the event of the season! And my last chance to get the freak on before the council arrive and put the moratorium on all the fun. Fun like this.” He wields the mesmer hand and giggles as he forces the designer to raise the hot flat iron from the ironing board where she had been working to her face.
Dyson bursts through the double doors and calls Vex off right before the designer makes contact with flesh. “You’ve got no authority here, Marmaduke,” Vex grouses. Ha! Dyson, who I now notice is wearing my favorite blue leather vest beneath his jacket, tells Vex “all I see is a bully taking out his Mommy issues on the help.” Vex tries to mesmer Dyson but though caught in Vex’s power, Dyson’s smile is all teeth. He laughs in Vex’s face as he scoffs, “you can’t stop me from shifting, Vex. And once I’m a wolf, I’m going straight for your throat.” Vex: “Yeah, well, I’m as stubborn as I am well-endowed and I do love a good Mexican standoff.” But after another moment of struggle, he releases Dyson. “Olé,” Dyson mocks. “Nice picture, by the way,” he adds with a nod toward Evony’s portrait. Vex claims he was as stunned as anyone to learn she’d named him Heir to the Dark Throne, “so to speak. I shed so many tears.” Ha. “But I had to stay strong. It’s what Miss Died on the Toilet would’ve wanted.” Ha!
Dyson has made his way into the office as Vex commiserates and now pokes around the sheets of paper on the desk. “And want would your predecessor say to you giving your Light Fae enemies tickets to The Collector’s ball tonight?” he asks picking one long, formal-looking scroll up from the mess on Vex’s desk. “Since when do you like balls?” Vex asks. I get the feeling he doesn’t just mean the dance kind. Dyson takes a moment, then decides not to take Vex’s bait and instead tells him the truth that they need to get back something they’ve lost. “Why the hell would I help you do that?” Vex asks. Good point. Strolling over to Evony’s portrait, Dyson says if Vex doesn’t help him, he may need to tell the Una Mens how Vex exaggerated the details of Evony’s demise. Vex badly tries to deny any wrongdoing. Dyson inhales deeply. “I can smell her back there, Vex, in her little cell,” he says in THAT VOICE. “She died!” Vex says emphatically. “Oh, she’s rotten all right,” Dyson agrees, “but she’s not rotting. Not man enough to finish the job?” he taunts. Vex mocks that Dyson is mental. “It a shame about Evony, you know,” Dyson goes on, unruffled as he ambles back across the room to get up in Vex’s face. “She was evil and insane but she was a worthy foe. Ten times the leader you’ll ever be. The good news is, you cough up three invitations to Engelram’s little shindig and I won’t rat you out. What do you say?”
Vex glares at Dyson but he knows the wolf has him by the short hairs. He stalks over to the desk and calls his assistant. “Could you provide Detective Dyson with our complimentary party ticket? Yes! My tickets! Looks like I won’t be needing them,” he bitches with another glare for Dyson. “Thanks a bunch, Vex,” Dyson says insincerely. “’Course I can’t guarantee once I get my memory back I’ll let you keep this cushy little job. Or your life.” He tosses the scroll back to Vex and leaves. Vex stares at Evony’s portrait. “Stop smiling at me, you smug little bitch,” he complains. Without looking around, he throws out his hand and immediately compels the designer to burn her face this time without stopping as she screams. So Dyson just left her there knowing Vex would take it out on the girl. He’s also very cold and matter-of-fact about killing Vex. It’s interesting to see how, without Bo, everyone reverts to the people they were before she arrived and shook up Faeville. Kenzi is stealing and lying. Vex is an amoral murderer. Dyson is a cold warrior with little regard for the value of humans, Kenzi being the only exception and that arguably more due to the fact that she’s playing Bo’s role in his life than for what she is to him in the real world. But it’s not enough to have changed him the way Bo has.
At Engelram’s, the party is in full swing when Hale and Dyson arrive. Hale is in a formal, bow-tied tux while Dyson is all black on black on black though his turned-up collar got bedazzled along the way. He complains that this used to be a spirit night. “I used to be The Ash, now I’m a disgrace. You don’t hear me crying…in public.” Heh. Dyson notes the many lovely ladies who are “shaking their baby grands, not that I mind” which ew. I forgot how little of Playa Dyson I can actually take in one go. He gallantly takes the hand of one girl carefully descending the steps in skyscraper heels as Hale expositions how every year, one lucky lady gets chosen to meet the elusive collector. “Elusive as in filthy rich,” Dyson clarifies as he and Hale climb up to the catwalk to check out the crowd. Hale says it’s not the money or the collection of priceless Fae memorabilia. “Engelram’s amphisbaena,” he explains. “A wish granter?” Dyson says as he braces his hands on the guardrail and looks out over the party. “So some lucky lady gets her deepest desires answered. That’s nice.” Hale just wishes his lady would get there. Dyson gives him an arch look. Mmm. Yeah. Right.
At Hilton Hovel, Kenzi flitters about trying to decide what to wear to the ball, “toe cleavage…real cleavage...Mata Hari wig,” but she’s really freaking out about something else. She picks up her mobile and hits a few buttons. The voicemail beeps without any outgoing message. A tad hesitant, Kenzi admits things between her and the callee have not always been “copacetic, but I could use your nerdy hypothesis on some color blocking right now.” She hopes the person is safe and ends with, “if you get this, you know, call me back…Lauren.” Um, she knows Doctor Lauren doesn’t have her phone, right?
Kenzi does some more fashion deliberation as an aimed crossbow comes into view behind her. She turns with a gasp to find Massimo the Druid. Undaunted by the weapon aimed at her head, Kenzi threatens that Massimo better be there to advise on accessories. He says it’s his new toy. “You want a closer look? Oh, what am I saying? Girls like you always want a closer look.” Douche. Dude was much more charming and less openly skeevy in the last season. Kenzi demands to know what took him so long. “I called you like an hour ago!” Massimo reminds her that “this stuff doesn’t whip itself. Come to think of it, neither do I.” Kenzi holds out her hand and demands he give it to her. Massimo takes out the container but toys with Kenzi by keeping it just out of her reach. “Spark extract. Mined straight from the genitals of a sprite.” Lovely. “Yeah, don’t oversell it,” Kenzi sneers. Setting the crossbow aside, Massimo sidles behind her. “You better let a professional handle this,” he decides. He takes Kenzi’s shoulders and roughly turns her back to him. Amazingly, she does not slam her elbow in his crotch. Instead, she bears it with a disgusted grimace while Massimo yanks her robe down to her elbows and brushes her hair aside to rub the extract into her shoulders. Creeptastic. There’s no music over this exchange either, which ups the atmosphere’s ick factor. Massimo puts his hand on the inner curve Kenzi’s clavicle and now the squirrelly music begins complete with chimes of supernatural happenings. With an aroused grunt, Massimo rubs the sparkly lotion on Kenzi. Ugh. Kenzi looks as grossed out as I feel on her behalf, but she endures it without objection. The whole vibe is an addict putting up with being pawed by her supplier in order to get her fix. Which isn’t too far from the truth only instead of smack, Kenzi’s hooked on being Fae.
She snatches the container from his hand, but it’s already empty. When she complains, Massimo, still with his hand on her bare shoulder, reminds Kenzi she’s still on the books for her last two visits. “Of course, if cash flow is a problem, there are always other ways to pay,” he adds as he cops a feel of her hip. Man, if Dyson knew where that hand was, Massimo would lose it quicker than he could blink in any reality. Kenzi takes a moment to actually consider it, but finally yanks herself free. “You didn’t make me Fae,” she accuses as though if he had she might be willing to give in. “You tricked me!” She protectively wraps the robe around her and crosses her arms as though she now has to hide her assets, which makes me want to hug her hard right after I cut Massimo’s balls off with a dull spoon. “Now I’m just a hot human sheep in twinkly fairy clothing!” Massimo suggests she shed his brilliantly concocted disguise and see what happens when the Una Mens come to call. This sufficiently quells Kenzi’s bravado and she begs Massimo to give her more promising to get him the money. With a smug smile, Massimo withdrawals another container of sparkle cream from his pocket. He warns if Kenzi doesn’t pay as promised, next time he’ll show up with something with teeth.
At the ball, Hale holds up the bar waiting for Kenzi when Playa Dyson joins him. Oh the wall behind him is a video head shot of a smiling George Takei. Oh my. “Maybe I should interrogate that one,” he says, indicating a woman down the bar in a backless evening dress and circa 1920s up do. “What do you think?” Hale follows Dyson’s direction. “You certainly got a type.” He turns back to the bar right before the woman turns around: it’s Kenzi. Surprise! Dyson is pleasantly taken aback and there’s some private nonverbal play between them. Dyson: You look amazing. Kenzi: I know. “Kenzi,” Dyson says aloud and with satisfaction. “Kenzi?!” Hale repeats, surprised. He turns back to her as Kenzi makes her way over to the two men, stopping to grab an appetizer along the way—and then promptly spitting it out in true Kenzi style. Heh. She greets the guys and, indicating her outfit, asks them what they think.
“I think you’re late,” Dyson attacks at once, probably because he couldn’t pull her hair. “And Engleram already has his eye on a favorite.” A bit taken aback, Kenzi insists she can still get the compass and Engleram’s attention. In that dress, I have no doubt. “Got my attention,” Hale says, and he and Kenzi smile at each other. This makes Dyson more of a jackhole. “I’m just saying you don’t bring a wolf to guard the sheep.” Kenzi rinses her mouth with champagne and speaks for all of us when she asks what he means. Dyson points out two women who both have made the cover of Sports Illustrated. Well la dee dah. “I like sports!” Kenzi objects. “I’m just saying that despite your many talents, maybe this is a little outside of your expertise. I mean, we need a killer kiss here.” Wow. Pissy wolf goes for the low blow. “I will have you know that I have seduced many a rich dork before. I think,” Kenzi shoots back, insulted and mildly unsure of that last bit. “Do you want to get our memories back or what?!” Hale: “And forget this magic moment?” Ha! Kenzi takes in the party for a moment. “You wanna see my skill set?” she taunts Dyson as she slaps her beaded bag on the bar. “Fine. I hope you stretched,” she warns Hale, grabbing his arm. Hale gives Dyson a cheeky grin as she drags him onto the dance floor. Heh.
Dyson watches them depart. “Hi!” a woman calls. She smiles widely as Dyson reluctantly takes notice. “Can you buy me a free drink?” He gives her an uninterested look—are you kidding me?—but, undaunted, the woman bounces over to him. As she moves, Bo appears behind her dressed up in a black cocktail dress. That may even be the dress she wore to Hale’s failed coronation as The Ash. She smiles at Dyson, sexy and knowing. The woman hops up on the bar stool next to Dyson, blocking his view. Annoyed, he cranes his neck to peer around her, but Bo is gone. Dyson frowns and tries to shake it off. Looks like even when memory-blocked, Dyson’s subconscious defaults to Bo. Heh. “Déjà vu,” he mutters to himself. “No, I’m Clio,” the woman corrects, oblivious. “Déjà vu came down with a case of the crabs.” HA! “Charming,” Dyson snarks.
But Clio has gone all fangrrl. “Oh my God! I know you.” She strokes both sides of Dyson’s head. “Oh. You’re a cop.” Dyson smarmily tells her whatever “this” is, he’s not interested. “I am a nymph,” Clio says deliberately. “Now I’m really not interested,” Dyson repeats. No shit. Clio takes mild offense and Dyson unbends enough to explain it’s just bad memories. “Tequila-soaked nakedness.” Sounds like good memories to me, but whatever. Clio giggles. “You know we’re not all bad. We’re just kind of…
drawn spawn that way.” Ha! Dyson raises his brows at her—no kidding—then returns his attention to the dancers as Kenzi takes the floor.
She strikes a pose in the middle of the room, crouched down, her arm outstretched to the now befuddled Hale who glances around, confused as a floodlight immediate snaps on her. He lifts her to her feet and Kenzi gives him a firm nod. The music for an Argentine tango plays as they start the steps to the dance. Hale softly chants the count as he matches Kenzi’s moves. Adorable. Kenzi chides him to stop counting out loud. Less adorable. She awkwardly pulls him around behind her and sends the audience a tight smile as they clear the dance space. “And hold me closer; I’m not your Nona,” she orders through her teeth. Their legs swish out and around but Hale’s still having issues. “Stop squirming.” Kenzi: “Dammit, act like you want to tear my clothes off!” Somehow they are making the sexiest dance on the planet look like an awkward hoe down.
“Oh golly,” Clio drawls deadpan to Dyson. “That’s more awkward than your attempt at small talk.” He couldn’t agree more and excuses himself to prowl onto the dance floor after Kenzi and Hale. “I got it, partner,” Hale protests as Dyson comes up behind Kenzi. “You really don’t,” Dyson replies cocky and sure. He yanks Kenzi back. She gasps and throws her arms back around his neck. He drags her across the floor. Hel-lo the sexy! Holy smoking Dancing With the Fae! The Argentine Tango is a sexy duel of seduction between partners; here the woman is drawn to yet resisting to a new lover (Dyson) whilst still dueling with her chosen partner (Hale). Subtext ahoy!
They do a few moves that end in a low dip, placing them in profile. “Who’s the brunette?” Kenzi asks with a snide glance toward Clio. “Will you just shut up and let me lead for once?” Dyson replies. Heh. He flips her into another tango stance then picks her up completely to put her back on her feet. They take a few steps across the floor and then do the between-the-legs tango kicks that always amaze me. I can never believe the men come out of that sequence unscathed especially given the size of women’s dance heels. Probably they don’t. They do more of the tango’s incredible fancy footwork. Ksenia Solo and KHR look fantastic together in this dance. Really well matched.
Dyson swings her around. With a push against her bare back, he sends her back across the floor to Hale in a series of solo spins. With more confidence on his part, Hale and Kenzi continue the dance, fancy footwork, spins, and lifts. From the opposite end of the dance floor, Dyson tracks them predator-style as he shucks his jacket. Now he’s gettin’ down to bidness! Hale spins Kenzi around and into a great lift that put her legs on spectacular display, which is yet only a fraction of her breathtaking talent. Ksenia Solo makes these lifts look like she’s just popping up into the air, no big, when it’s incredible grace, skill, and hard work. Dyson rolls up his sleeves, unbuttons his shirt half way, takes his next tango stance, and claps twice. Oh holy, blessed Lord that was hot. I need a moment. And another. Splash. Jaysus, but I do love the Argentine Tango.
With a sly come-hither look, Kenzi sidles back across the room to where Dyson waits, returning to the inappropriate lover she can’t quite resist. They tango and Dyson holds the center as Kenzi spins through several low to the floor moves that are too good to waste weak words describing. It’s Hale though who pulls her out of them as he takes his woman back. They take their next stance, but now Dyson again comes up behind Kenzi and it’s a full-on threesome tango! There’s a brief moment of silent male posturing between a pissed Hale and a cocky Dyson that entertains me greatly. Kenzi leans back into Dyson who bends down into a crouch. She extends one fierce leg; he cradles it and dips his head to just not kiss her calf then trails his hovering mouth from her knee to her upper thigh ending just above her mouth. I am now officially a quivering mess on the floor.
Seriously, if we could bottle and sell KHR’s sexy quotient for the open market, we’d be able to fully fund every charity for disease research until the End of Days and relieve the U.S. debt with extra left over for sparkly presents. And chips. Strewth.
Back on their feet, Hale retrieves Kenzi and pulls her into another dip. But Dyson retains her hand; she can’t quite let go of this lover yet. He immediately spins her up, round, and back into a reverse dip. Upright again, the two men flank Kenzi and together raise her into another lift. There’s more male posturing subtext as the three slowly spin in place. Bless. They lower Kenzi who pushes Dyson away to default to Hale. A lady always leaves the dance with the man who brought her. After another dip, she does that tango slide down Hale’s body and through his legs. That should totally be an adult theme ride. Unwilling to be so easily pushed aside, Dyson steps forward and this time blatantly shoves Hale out of the way. Hale: “Seriously?!” Snort.
Dyson lifts Kenzi up onto his shoulder upside down so her lithe body stretches down the front of his in reverse. Back on her feet, Kenzi pulls away, she’s made her decision, but Dyson yanks her back and down into a dip, this time leaving them in silhouette. “Maybe we have done this before,” he says, breathing hard while breaking dance character. “This I would remember,” Kenzi retorts, equally out-of-breath. Yeah. No kidding. This dance is a whole page of bucket list moments. Possibly the entire first volume. He lifts her back onto his shoulder this time in a fly formation. She front rolls down his torso; they spin to exchange positions. He goes to his knees before her, shoulders back, one final plea: choose me. She puts her heel to his chest and shoves him down to his back. No. That’s it. Bring on the tequila. Striking a pose with one hand on her hip and the other raised above her head, standing alone in the middle of the floor, choosing herself, Kenzi finishes with a flourish by shooting fairy sparks into the air. Oh HUZZAH! That was amazing! Incredible job all around.
The awe-struck crowd exclaims at her display, one calling out “beautiful” and I think that was totally spontaneous. Panting, still on his back before Kenzi, Dyson looks up as a minion delivers a single red rose on a silver platter to Kenzi. “The final rose,” she whispers to Dyson. “How original,” he quips. Kenzi takes the rose and accepts her beaded bag from the minion who helpfully retrieved it from the bar. This really *is* a supernatural party; in Jersey, that bag would already be up on eBay. “Looks like someone’s going private chambers,” Kenzi says, pleased. Here’s hoping for her sake that’s not like going private dancer. Still on the floor, Dyson waves buh-bye. HA! That cracks me up. She exits the party and Dyson gets to his feet as he warily watches her depart.
Cautious, Kenzi eases into a large, darkened room filled with treasures. “Pirate booty. Sure.” A huge unicorn statue holds court in the foreground. I see what you did there,
Andras show. “Stuffed unicorn,” Kenzi observes. “Why not?” Why not, indeed. She calls out hello and gasps as the heavy doors behind her swing shut. “Great door! Really…loud. And I love all your crates. Very…Pottery Barn.” Heh. “Is this situation going Indecent Proposal, cause I’m gonna need to see the jewels up front, buddy!” Swallowing hard, she holds out a hand and sparks up some light. George Takei bobs up into frame. “Welcome. Pretty girl,” he smarms. “Mr. Engelram?” Kenzi clarifies haltingly as she takes in his height and form. See, Engelram here has a man’s torso on a snake’s tail. “At your sssssssssservice,” Engelram hisses.
Say it with me: Snakes. Why does it always have to be snakes? And the Raiders theme comes nicely full circle.
Back at the ball, the party is in full swing. Even Snook is shaking his groove thing. Not well, mind you, but points for enthusiasm. The music stops as Vex climbs his way on top of the upright piano. “Please don’t stop yourselves on my account!” What the Tim Gunn is he wearing? An upside-down colander serves as top hat—it looks like those ruffled things often put on the end of a Thanksgiving turkey’s legs—followed by a Shakespearean ruffled collar. His velvet coat with tails sports large gold buttons. Underneath, pleather strips divide up his chest with braces attached to pleather leggings that end in—black, stiletto, open-toed pumps. Paul Amos just won all the awards at Faeshion Week with this one. He steps down to squash the piano keys with his heels as he taunts the crowd to diddle themselves as Rome burns and now an enormous studded codpiece comes into view ironically shaped like a grenade. Overcompensate much? He’s quite athletic in those heels, swinging down off the stage while he taunts the crowd. “Make merry while ye may! For the Una Mens are on their way!” Aw, he rhymed the couplet! “I’ll be on mine too!” He swings a frightened woman around. “As soon as you cough up what I, the venerable leader of the Dark, want.” At the bar, hidden by the crowd yet unruffled by Vex’s display, Dyson catches Hale’s eye and nods. Hale returns the gesture; plan received he moves into position. Vex concludes: “And what I want is the wolf!” Get in line, darling. Damn it, I said that out loud again, didn’t I? Eh.
Vex howls loud and silly. Clio runs up to an unworried Dyson, throws her around his neck, and cheerily offers to get him out of there for a price. “I think I’d rather stay; rip his throat out,” Dyson murmurs casually in THAT VOICE. Clio can’t believe he’s serious about taking on The Morrigan who’s also a mesmer. Out of nowhere, she asks if Dyson knows how to rappel. “Why? You got some rope in that itty bitty dress?” he asks. Clio rolls her eyes.
Back on the floor, Vex bitches that he has to do everything himself and then with a wide sweep of his arms, compels the woman he grabbed up moments ago to break her own neck. The crowd screams and runs away.
“Oh Snook,” Dr. Snook says, dropping his champagne flute. Heh. “Oh, you’re on your own, wolf,” Clio says to Dyson and exits as he moves toward Vex.
Engelram slithers closer to a regrouping Kenzi who asks what he is. “I am a humble gatherer of Fae memorabilia,” he drawls. “A big fan of your dancssssssing. And I am Amphisbaena.” Takei is having oodles of fun chewing the scenery in this one. “Slow your roll, Slitherin,” Kenzi orders wielding the rose for emphasis. Heh. Engelram says he only wants to look inside, “so I may grant your unsssssssspoken wisssssssh.” Kenzi says there’s no need for that as she’s happy to tell him if she can just remember what it’s called. “I want the Ricardo Montalban…Ricky Martin…uh, the-the- the compass thingie.” Engelram is insulted by the limitations of her wish. “Well, I’ll take your unicorn too if you’re looking to downsize,” she adds. Snort. Talk about putting the horn to him. He sneers that for being offered the chance at unlimited wishes, Kenzi landed on shallow. “You’re one to talk. Like those toddler-esque pores happen au natural.” Engelram grimaces at her point. “Now now. I simply…sssssshed my skin every two months.” I think there are more than a few Hollywood starlets who do the same. Kenzi thinks that totally unfair. “You could try removing your make up before you passssss out atop your midnight helping of cheessssse popcorn and vodka.” You mean those aren’t two of the extended food groups? Crap. “Me-yow,” Kenzi snarks. Conceding the bitch fest, she calls Engelram back to the task at hand. Engleram insincerely apologizes. “I merely thought the little human would wish for her return.”
Shocked and stunned Kenzi stares up at him. “No,” she manages, tears thick in her voice. “Also, what?” Engelram snaps his fingers and the compass appears floating beside him. Kenzi leaps for it. “Pity,” Engelramsnarls, anger building. He bears his teeth. “You don’t know what you’re misssssing.” But apparently you do, which is…interesting. “I just know I’d like to get out of here before you swallow me whole,” Kenzi admits. She thanks him and turns to leave but stops as she realizes he called her “human.” Pissed, Engelram says he should have realized it ssssssssooner. “There was something sssssso vulnerable about your tango,” he accuses, rising up to his full height. “Ohhhh Cobra Commander,” Kenzi moans. HA! “I granted your wish now I am going to swallow you whole,” he menaces, stalking Kenzi. “Isn’t that a fair trade?” Caught in Engelram’s mesmerizing gaze, Kenzi violently shakes her head in the negative.
Back at the ball, Dyson prowls up to the mesmer. “Nice costume Vex! Weren’t you the impotent dick last year?” Ha. Vex’s chuckle is so snide that coupled with the outfit and the over-the-top entrance, he’s like the BDSM Snidely Whiplash. You must pay the rent! “Well now it’s time to see who really is the bitch and who’s just dead.” He strolls across the floor and casually steps over the dead woman between them. Dyson scoffs at Vex’s feet. “Did you come all the way down here just to show me your pretty new shoes?” Vex says this is about remembering “or making sure that no one else does.” He pulls down his lower eyelid to reveal he too has the memory disk. “Your memory’s gone too,” Dyson observes, suddenly serious. Vex giggles and smacks Dyson companionably on the shoulder as he explains he worked it out ages ago. “It’s the only thing that makes sense, really,” he concludes, grabbing a bottle from a bucket on the now-empty bar. Dyson murmurs that it’s making less and less sense. “Did you really think I was meant to be The Morrigan?” Vex asks, champagne flute now in hand. He takes a gulp and admits he’s never had power like this before. “And what if the thing everyone remembers leads them to challenge my hard-fought reign?” he snarls. “I did terrible things to get my mesmer back, even for me.” Dyson is unimpressed. “Cry me a river, Vex.” In a low, dark voice, Vex goes on about still having nightmares about being helpless. “Unable to influence; unable to feed.” He thinks his current position is as good as he’s ever going to get. “And I’m damned if I’m gonna let Kenzi let everyone else recall how good it was to be without me!” He ends shouting and slams the flute into pieces on the ground.
Hale comes back from wherever—shepherding people to safety? doing a quick scene on Saving Hope?—and takes his place by his partner’s side. Dyson asks Vex how “this” it going to work. “You can’t mesmer me once I shift.” Vex laughs. “Well it’s a good thing I can mesmer your mate!” He flings out his hands; immediately Hale throws one arm around Dyson’s neck to choke him while his other hand muffles his own mouth so he can’t siren Vex. Struggling in Hale’s grip, Dyson demands Vex leave Kenzi out of their battle. Not bothering to respond, Vex heads off after Kenzi. Dyson reaches back and with a growl, drags Hale’s hand of his own mouth. Still choking Dyson against his will (probably), Hale immediately sets his siren whistle on Vex. Vex goes to his knees in pain, which instantly releases his hold on Hale. “Owww Evanescence!” he screams. Ha! Freed, Dyson lopes off to save Kenzi.
Vex gets to his feet and again attacks Hale, this time forcing him to choke himself. “Since when do you do the dramatic?” Struggling against his own strength, Hale manages to hit Vex with another whistle, again breaking his hold. Catching his breath as he shrugs his jacket back in place, Hale smiles meanly. “You want drama?” he says as he stalks a cowering Vex around the room. The dead woman still lies in the middle of the floor, completely disregarded by all three Fae men. “I’m gonna end you,” Hale vows. He really really means it.
Kenzi flees through the storeroom dodging treasures and crates. “Small crate. Big crate. Snake man coming!” Panting, she hides behind a big crate and clutches the yet retained rose to her chest. After checking round a corner for Engelram, she works to dial up her dwindling sparkage. “Come on, Kenzi you no-friends, no-talent glow stick!” Poor sweetie. None of that is true. She pulls out the container Massimo gave her but inside is only a note: Pay me. “No, no, no. Of all times to get my human back on,” she cries just as Engelram slithers around the corner of the crate. She screams and runs off.
Vex and Hale battle on, Hale struggling to keep his hand from strangling him. “You fought by our side!” Hale accuses, presumably referencing The Garuda, but possibly also the deal they made at the end of season three by which Vex overthrew Evony. Who knows? Talk about selective memory loss. Hale blasts him with the siren whistle. “Ahhhh GUILTY!” Vex screams. “You betrayed our agreement about everything!” Hale shouts, pressing the upper hand. That answers that then. “HARDER!” Vex shouts, guttural and raw. “You love Kenzi!” Hale yells. “How could you do this to her?!” Vex retorts that they all love Kenzi. “Hell, your Alpha Male’s doing her right now!” Oh low blow! Hale pulls Vex up by his throat. “Is the former Ash really gonna kill the current Morrigan?” Vex struggles to taunt. “I don’t think the Una Mens would like that.” Hale is ready and willing to find out. He siren whistles Vex and keeps it up even as Vex writhes on the floor where Hale drops him. This time, Hale isn’t going to stop.
Back in the storeroom, Engelram rises to his full, coiled height as Kenzi runs right into his path. The end of his tails lifts up and it ends in a mouth! Engelram flips it like a whip at Kenzi but she dodges and it slams into a large crate. Dyson runs in on the far side of the room as Engelram’s tail attacks Kenzi again. Dyson spies an awfully conveniently placed spear; he hefts it up and throws it across the room to pin Engelram’s tail to the wall right above Kenzi’s head. Dyson sprints to Kenzi’s side and grabs her hands. “Massive wolf paws!” she gasps with relief. He takes a moment. “Forgot to tell you; love the hair.” Aw. He leads the way back toward the ballroom as Engelram collapses to the floor. “Oh. My.” HA! Had to be said.
Out in some warehouse row, still in her sheath dress and veiled hat, Aoife sidles by a random sailor with a demure smile. Hel-lo Fleet Week! Aoife stops and snarls as her hunger takes over. She turns to suck down some sailor and familiar voice calls her name. “It’s been a long time,” she says, moved. Slowly she turns to face Trick. “Hi Daddy,” she says, crying. Behind her, hands in pocket, the sailor ambles away. You got off easy, pal.
Oh man! An Aoife and Trick scene. FINALLY. Andddddd it’s over.
Back in the storehouse, Dyson and Kenzi pause by yet another crate and check that Engelram’s not on their…tail. Come on. I had to. “Oh the compass!” Kenzi cries. But in the melee, the compass cracked. Dyson wonders if breaking the compass broke the spell and Kenzi quickly checks his eye, which still sports the memory disk. “No, you still got canola oil.” They examine the compass and Dyson wonders if they first have to align the compass to true north. Kenzi moves to do so, but realizing their lives are about to drastically change, Dyson stops her. “You’ve always been there for me,” he says. Kenzi: “And you for moi.” Aw. He looks down at her small hands clasped in his big ones. “I would give my life for you. I’d never desert you.” What makes this all the more poignant is that Dyson feels this way for Kenzi in every reality, it’s just gotten muddled up with faux romance in BizzaroFae with Bo’s absence. He suggests Vex may be right. All of Faeville shudders at the idea. “Maybe this is as good as it gets. Maybe…maybe we can make it better.” It’s bittersweet how he struggles to speak from his heart, much like the Dyson of season one struggled to tell Bo how he felt about her.
But Kenzi has had some revelations of her own. Dyson tugs her close and, after a pause, closes his eyes as he presses his forehead against Kenzi’s the way he and Bo used to do in season one. These season one echoes are breaking my heart even as I eat them up. Kenzi flinches and immediately pulls back from the connection. Even without the memory of Bo she knows this is not them. “I have, like, 80 thongs,” she non sequiturs. Dyson raises his brows. “That’s great,” he quips, lightening the mood. I think she’s trying to tell him he’s not the only guy she’s been canoodling with as she’s tried to fill a loneliness she doesn’t understand. “I mean, I am lonely,” Kenzi admits with a small smile. “And this—all of it—it isn’t right.” It really, really isn’t. “It’s hasn’t been for a while.” She smiles sadly and shrugs. “My heart hurts, Dyson, and I don’t know why,” she confesses, crying. “Besides,” she adds, stroking his face. “When you’re in love you know. Right?” And she’s not with him and he’s not with her and going by their sadly resigned expressions, they both know it. Dyson has to agree. “Whatever happens though, you and me, we’re in it together, right?”
“Yes,” Kenzi agrees emphatically. “Friends to the end. Bros before hoes. Pals and The Dal.” Dyson cuts her off. “Yeah. All that.” They share a laugh and she playfully kisses his nose. “Gimme that,” he says, holding his hand out for the compass. Checking the…ceiling?...for north, Dyson clicks the compass into place. It starts to click and whirl causing Dyson and Kenzi to moan in pain and grab at their temples. The shock of the memory restoration suffuses their faces. They gape at one another as everything comes crashing back. “Bo,” they gasp simultaneously with shared shock and horror as their recent actions together come up against their remembered feelings for Bo.
In Warehouse Alley, Aoife and Trick similarly convulse with the restored memory rush. Groaning, Trick holds out his forearms where his veins again run black. Along with her memories, Aoife’s crazy has returned full force. Looking up, he sees Aoife holding her clenched arms out in the same manner. “No!” he cries. “Hi. Daddy,” Aoife snarls at him, breathing hard. “Aoife please,” he pleads in a warning tone as she pulls a dagger from her purse, which she then tosses aside. “It’s all that I have left,” she bites out with rising mania as she raises the dagger to stabbing position. “It’s all that’s kept me ALIVE is my hate! Knowing one day we would have our reunion and it would end in you spilling your cursed blood.” Trick promises he’ll find Bo for them both, but Aoife is too quickly too far gone. She howls her rage to the night. “This is for her!” she rages and lunges for Trick.
Back at the ball, Dyson and Kenzi run into the ballroom. Hale is bent over cradling his head. Kenzi rushes to his side and worries if he’s okay as they grab hold of one another. “Oh, he’s fine,” Vex wearily assures him from his place sprawled on the floor. His voice and tone are New Vex now. “Very effective. Splendid sirening,” he compliments Hale sincerely. “You know, I’m glad you didn’t get bitten by the snake, Kenz. And can I tell you? I love what you do to your mascara these days.” Yup, he’s back. Kenzi: “I do too.” Mascara Buddies Forevah!
Hale holds Kenzi’s shoulders as she tries to figure out what to do next. “I’m so sorry,” he whispers, voice spent. Impatient, she brushes this aside. “No stop. Stop. We’re gonna find her.” She shoots Dyson a frightened look. “How long has she even been missing?” Dyson wonders, giving voice to the question they’re all afraid to ask. “Where do we even start?” Hale quietly adds. “By finding whomever could’ve erased the memory of the one we love most,” Dyson states with renewed conviction. You go, Wolfie.
Vex warns if they do, they’ll regret it. “There lies some old world magics.” Dyson’s phone beeps his Tamsin reminder. Hale collapses to the floor with exhaustion as Kenzi pleads for Dyson not to go now, of all times. “The last person to see Bo alive was Tamsin,” he reminds her and Kenzi immediately changes her tune. “Well then what are you waiting for?! Go! GO!” she shouts with a smack for his shoulder as she shoves him toward the door. Without another word, Dyson lopes off to do so. Kenzi crouches down to check on Hale. “Kenz, we need to talk,” he manages. “Not until she’s back,” Kenzi says, openly crying. “I can’t even breathe.” She tells him and Vex that she has to go and flees the room in Dyson’s wake running full tilt in those heels.
Back in the Raiders warehouse, the Rasket quivers. There’s a growling, squelching sound as the lid lifts and black ooze seeps over the edge and out onto the floor as if devouring the Rasket. Are these the Una Mens?
In a diner, a woman with long red hair clears dishes from a table. She turns around—say! It’s Doctor Lauren! Damn it. I almost forgot she was in this show. Ah well, all good things… She’s wearing a really terrible country shirt that’s still not as awful as her bewigged bangs and a name tag pinned to her breast that reads “Amber.” Sadly she’s not captured by a demon and dragged into slavery in another dimension where time passes more quickly and ages you prematurely until you’re used up and tossed back to your own world to die. “Bo,” she gasps.
Overwhelmed with shock, she drops into a booth. “Bo,” she repeats, crying. “I remember.” Yeah, well, remember how you viciously tortured Dyson before you ran for your life too, while you’re at it. No, I’m not letting it go.
Somewhere, some place, a sleeping Bo awakens. Her eyelids pop open to reveal eyes gone succubus blue. Looks like Dyson, Kenzi, Hale, Vex, Trick, Aoife, and (sigh) Doctor Lauren aren’t the only ones who just rudely got their memory back. Ruh roh.
And we’re off!
Next Week: Season 4, Episode 2, “Sleeping Beauty School”