We're delighted to once again bring you recaps of 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 4x06, “Of All the Gin Joints.”
An opera soprano in a white ball gown festooned with feathers sings an aria to her audience of one. Seriously, there are a lot of feathers. She stands in the center of a private, outdoor stage that looks like Aida clashed with the Titans with Tiki torches to boot. She finishes the aria and curtseys to the man enthroned—no, he’s literally sitting on a throne—on the other side of the lawn. He too wears white but with more of a maharajah style sans feathers. He gets to his feet to give her an enthusiastic standing ovation. Soprano receives it with decidedly less enthusiasm. She is escorted away while Maharajah, mildly pique at her dismissal, goes off somewhere to pout. Once out of sight, Soprano doubles over in pain. When her escort makes to help her, she hums in his ear, knocking him out could. I didn’t think she was that bad. Oh, is she a siren, like Hale? Glancing around furtively, she picks up the hem of her feathers and hurries back across the stage and runs across the lawn. Gasping, her escort manages to get out a dog whistle; when he blows it, Soprano collapses to her knees, grabbing her ears in pain. But the guard can’t maintain the whistle and as he passes out, Soprano gets up and makes her escape.
At The Dal, Kenzi reads from a note Tamsin left for her while Bo broods about her own personal angst. “Dear K: I G 2 G Go Han Solo and all that.” I’m gonna need a decoder ring for this, aren’t I? “I don’t know how I know I gotta do this, but YOLO right? Holla at you soon. Tam Tam.” Sure. Kenzi cradles the note to her chest. “Kids. They’re as cryptic as…” Bo: “…a witness signature on a Dark contract?” They ping pong their conversation without noticing that neither is actually listening to the other:
Kenzi: Tam Tam’s just following her heart…
Bo: And I wonder…
Kenzi: …And now I just got a big ole hole in mine.
Bo: Can you really know yourself without memory? I mean, can you really know what you want?
Kenzi: I just hope she’s safe.
Bo: …Freedom and a whole lotta boom boom
Heh. “Oh God it is so good to finally dish!” Kenzi finishes, jumping up to grab Bo’s hands. Bo is in complete agreement. “I don’t know what I would do without you!” They grin at one another and just then Feather Lady stumbles into The Dal and collapses on the floor. The two guys sitting at the table next to her don’t move an inch. Way to be classy, guys. Bo and Kenzi hurry over to help her up. As Bo helps Feather Lady to the bar, Kenzi grabs the bottle from the two tools’ table and pours a drink. When Tool One reaches for his glass, she snatches it from him and takes a deliberate slug. “TOLL!” she shouts in their faces, slamming the glass back on the table, “for being non-helping douche balls!” Ha!
Kenzi hands the glass to Feather Lady who finally gets a good look at Bo. “You!” she gasps. Reaching for Bo, she yammers out a torrent of Russian. “Whoa she’s Russian? Sweet!” Kenzi crows. Feather Lady rambles on in Russian and Bo has Kenzi translate. “Ah, ‘I can’t believe I found you. I found you!’ She, ah, found you is the primary message.” Bo murmurs that she’s never see Feather Lady before in her life. Shocked, Feather Lady rattles on with more Russian and Kenzi translates again. “’I came. I came. I came. I came. I came. Just like she told me to.” Nope. Too easy. Bo asks Feather Lady who told her to come, which shocks the woman back into English. “You!” she gasps. “You did!”
Down in Tolkien’s Lair, Feather Lady lays on Trick’s settee, a mask over her delicate eyes, while Trick walks up and down its length swinging an incense urn. Setting the urn aside, he crosses to his desk and silently angsts over the now-empty seed basket. Bo descends from on high. Trick quickly intercepts her and insists that “Ianka,” aka Feather Lady, needs to rest. Bo earnestly recounts how some woman she doesn’t know and never talked to told Bo that Bo told her to come see Bo. Got that? Bo doesn’t know what to believe but does know she needs to talk to Ianka right now, damn the consequences! But Trick blocks her way again. “Pretty please?” Bo snarks, annoyed. Unruffled, Trick asserts that Ianka needs to heal. “She’s an Alkonost, a very rare and delicate descendent of bird people.” He’s worried that all her running around in the cold may have strained Ianka’s vocal chords. Bo snidely posits that singing is how Ianka feeds. But it’s much more than that. “The Alkonost’s songs evokes…powerful memories,” Trick explains with a beatific expression. Bo has pinged on the whole “memory recovery” angle. “What kind of memories?” Trick admits it’s a some good/some bad situation. “Their songs can even take life…including their own if they’re not careful,” he warns. He insists Bo allow Ianka to rest for now and, pouting, Bo finally agrees. “Well, when Liza Faenelli wakes up lemme know.” She clunks back up the stair to The Dal proper.
Moving boxes litter the main room at Doctor Lauren’s flat as the doc bops around the room to I Want the DJ by Sonoton Music. She’s smiling, pretty, pretty hair swinging, hips rockin’ as she packs her things to the beat of the music. Aw, look how happy she is now she’s finally shucked Bo (for the third time) and is free of the Light Fae! Go Doctor Lauren! The music lowers and Doctor Lauren turns to find a genuinely entertained Evony in her flat with a pizza in hand. “You would’ve killed at Studio 64,” Evony admires. “Just like I killed the busboy who served me tonic instead of soda!” She’s quite cheerful about that. But The Morrigan’s arrival has squelched all of Doctor Lauren’s enthusiasm. Wary, she demands to know what Evony wants. Evony says she came to help the doc move but now it’s clear there’s a much more pressing matter with which they need to deal. “Yourhostessing skills,” she duhs as the doc continues to gape at her. “They suck ass, Disco Queen.”
Doctor Lauren is trying to reconcile this gal pal with The Morrigan’s usual terrifying demeanor. She laughs nervously. “Well, I didn’t really expect The Morrigan to show up with pizza and…beer.” Her awkward smile fades as she remembers the last time she showed up at a woman’s apartment with pizza and beer. Ah yes, Crystal. Gone and so quickly forgotten. She and NotComaNadia should form a club. Hell, at least PerfectCiara got a proper wake and a wolf in mourning. Evony doesn’t think it’s a proper Moving Day party without a little “za” and something from her own personal microbrewery, whose secret ingredient is the agony of stolen dreams. I might have added that last. In the foreground, a yoga magazine is prominently displayed inside a clear storage tub. Meta me once…
Evony hands a skeptical Doctor Lauren a bottle of Dark Belch. HA! “I was going through a red neck phase,” Evony explains. “They were delicious, so, no regrets.” She tells Doctor Lauren to call her Evony, since they’ll be working together now and everything, and shoves a box out of her way. Doctor Lauren freaks out, causing Evony to wonder what’s in the box. “It’s my entire Star Trek DVD collection,” the doc awkwardly admits as she gets her geek on. “You know Enterprise,Voyager, Next Generation. The movies.” She smacks her lips and then confesses the rest. “My…Kahn collectable action figure.” HA! Meta me twice… “Oh honey,” Evony drawls. “I obviously came just in time.” Evony unzips her bag (not a euphemism!) and holds out a small stack of antique books that Doctor Lauren eyes curiously.
Back at The Dal, Bo enters to find Dyson back in town and nursing a drink. “The prodigal wolf returns!” She greets him warmly and takes the stool next to him. “Rode for two days straight,” he says. “Yeah, that’s what I said,” she quips. He says her name as he takes her hands. “Dyson,” she starts to cut him off and then gets a good look at his face. “Oh, that’s not good news.” He says it’s concerning Doctor Lauren, which puzzles Bo. “Looks like she’s gone with the Dark,” he reveals. Bo relaxes; she already knows all this. Guess a phone call to say “Hey, come on home. Doctor Lauren is here after all, she’s just with The Morrigan,” was too much to ask?
“Well, yeah. You’re gonna giggle. Really, you are,” she tells him, knowing he’s going to do the exact opposite. She glances around the room as she braces to tell him. “But, as it turns out…so did I.” Dyson, predictably, freaks out. “What?! WHY?” he hisses. Bo admits that her hand was forced. “By The Wanderer or Rainer or whoever the bastard is,” she says. Dyson earnestly promises that they can fix this. “I think I know where we can start.” But Bo already has her own ideas about that. “Yeah, so do I,” she says as she strokes his face and kisses him. After a moment, he pulls back. “Bo, you’re Dark! I—I’m Light. We can’t, do you understand? It’s forbidden.” Bo has no problem with that; in fact, she quite enjoys the idea.
She leads Dyson into the cask room, pushes him up against the table, and shoves her hand down his pants as they kiss. Looks like she managed to get his shirt open along the way. Guess two days without the wolf is too many. Rough, she shoves him around. “You like that?” Given his expression, I’m gonna go with “hell yes.” He jerks his chin and grins wolfishly as he admits it’s different for them. Look, PerfectCiara brought a sgain dubh into his bed; I think he’ll be okay with a little bondage. “I said,” Bo grits through her teeth playfully as she strips off his belt and binds it across his chest from behind. “Do you like that?” Dyson reaches back to grab her bum. “I’ll learn,” he promises on a pleased laugh and she kisses his shoulders. I’m gonna need to douse my head in a bucket after this scene, aren’t I?
Muttering, “Oxidized water is good for vocals? Or is it un-oxidized?” He flips on the overhead light revealing Bo and Dyson. They break apart as Trick swears. “Balls of Minotaur!” HA! Trick turns his back to them as Dyson buckles his pants and shrugs his shirt back onto his shoulders. “What’s wrong with you two? Light and Dark can’t fraternize. Dyson!” Trick chides, knowing which of the two is more likely to be chagrined. Duly chastised, Dyson tells Trick he knows. Undaunted, Bo takes Dyson’s hand and crowds in close to kiss his cheek and caresses his chest. Deeming it safe nonetheless, Trick faces them and Bo and Dyson gently kiss as he admonishes that they both have to be smarter, so clearly they’re really concerned here. “The Una Mens are everywhere.” Dyson can’t look away from Bo, and she’s had enough with being interrupted. “Then close the door on your way out!” she snaps at her grandfather. Trick is visibly taken aback by her unusual obnoxious display. “No,” he refuses deliberately. “You two get your brains out of each other’s pants and get out of my barrel room!” He grabs a bottle as Bo, annoyed but compliant, steps away from a resigned Dyson. Stepping up before Trick, she deliberately zips up her top as he reveals that Ianka is awake. “Try not to aggravate her,” he instructs, handing over the bottle of water. “She’s very…” “Delicate,” Bo interrupts, still pissy, as Dyson slowly buttons his shirt (dammit!). “Yes. I know.” She grabs the bottle and stalks out of the cask room as both men stare after her with concern.
Downstairs, Ianka dabs at her face to put herself back together. She leaps up from Trick’s
make up table desk when Bo arrives. “Oh! My hero!” She ecstatic to have found Bo. “I did not think it would happen, but here you are. And here I am!” And where did Kenzi-the-translator get to again? Bo is glad she’s okay but is totally clueless as to what Ianka is talking about. “I’ve never even met you!” This confuses Ianka. “You came to see me after I sang for you and it touched you so deeply!” Bo wants to know where and when Ianka sang for her, but the songbird suddenly can’t remember the details. Maybe she needs to sing for herself? “You made me promise!” Bo wants to know what it is that she allegedly made Ianka promise. “That I would come here and find you!” Obviously. Apparently, Ianka said no at first, that it was impossible, “but you insisted I escape. You gave me such inspiration!” Bo doesn’t understand and she doesn’t know what to say to Ianka, but the songbird only wants Bo to listen. She begins to sing an aria. Bo closes her eyes as Ianka circles her. Bo flashes back to running through the meadow in episode three, but now in the memory, she’s running backwards. Now she’s waking up back on the train as Ianka’s high note sounds clear. “What the hell?” TrainBo mutters.
Bo comes back to herself in Tolkien’s Lair. “It was a good memory?” Ianka asks. Bo admits the memory was vague and weird. “But it was a clue. A real clue!” She begs Ianka to keep singing but Ianka refuses. “We shook on it. I sing for you and you get me what I want most in the world.” Bo asks what that is. “Freedom,” Ianka says with fervency. With tight fury, Bo tells Ianka she can’t hold Bo’s memories hostage. “I don’t have your memories; only you have your memories,” Ianka scoffs. She only has the key to unlock Bo’s memories. “You should probably give me this key,” Bo threatens darkly. Her eyes go succubus blue as she stalks Ianka across the lair. Whoa, that’s an unusual zero to one hundred flare up for her. Ianka backs away very slowly but, though intimidated, she is not quelled. “People talk about the succubus,” she says, afraid but unyielding. “They say you are different, but you are just like the others.”
Shocked to be compared with the Fae she scorns, Bo dials back from the instinctive power surge. But Ianka isn’t done. “You promise me my wings and then you pluck my feathers so you can hear me sing!” she snarls. Bo apologizes sincerely. “Lately I’ve just been feeling so lost…wait. What others?” Ianka relates that she sings for a wealthy and powerful Buraq. “Him and only him. But I am starving; I cannot feed.” She longs to sing for a proper audience. “If only I could sing my famous aria!” Bo: “Guess I’m more of a Black-Eyed Peas kind of girl.” Ianka is charmed by her bourgeois tastes. “Ni Regrette Du Passé, Ni Perdu De L'Avenir, mmm?” Bo merely looks puzzled. “It means ‘neither regret the past nor fear the future’,” Ianka translates. Bo notes that it’s beautiful but means nothing to her. Ianka remembers that Bo said she wouldn’t remember. She urges Bo to look in the handle of her knife. Wary, Bo nonetheless withdraws her sgian dubh and removes the handle to reveal a tiny scroll. She reads from the scroll. “‘Ianka, you will sing for me, and I will bring you freedom.’ That’s my handwriting.” But before Bo can learn more, a man’s voice cries out Ianka’s name up in The Dal. Ianka freaks out and begs Bo to help her. “It’s him.” Bo: “Who him?”
“Ianka! Ianka!” Maharajah yells. He bangs on the bar and demands to see the owner of this establishment. “Where is my Ianka, the poor thing?!” Bo stalks in from Tolkien’s Lair. “Hey! She’s not a thing, pal. And nobody owns her.” Maharajah discounts this and smarms that the beautiful Ianka has been in his family for centuries. “Yeah, well, four score and a bunch of years ago, Lincoln threw down and slavery went the way of the dodo. So let her go.” Maharajah scoffs that Bo must be in jest and demands she bring Ianka to him immediately. Bo lies that Ianka already left The Dal moments before Maharajah arrived but he knows Ianka is still there because he’s got her GPS locked on his phone. “What is she, a dog with a chip in her ear?” Bo sneers. Maharajah scoffs that Bo is being ridiculous. “The device is in her necklace.” Oh, that’s much better then. When Bo threatens to rip the necklace off Ianka, Maharajah warns trying will only tighten it around her throat. Wow, he’s just all kinds of charm. Bo tries a different tack and explains all Ianka wants is to sing the famous aria and all she’s asking is he allow it. But Maharajah can’t deal with the idea of the famous aria being wasted on the masses. “Now you’re just insulting me.” Bo strokes his ego by saying how people speak of his generosity and benevolence. “Well, I am both,” he preens. Bo thinks when the public finds out he denied them Ianka’s performance, they’ll learn differently. Maharajah back pedals that he’ll allow it, but “I’ll need a private room, a bottle of Scapa 25 single malt, and a place to sit that’s not so…sticky.” Bo: “I can do less sticky.”
Back at Doctor Lauren’s flat, she marvels over the professional and personal journals Evony has acquired from Charles Mayo, Albert Einstein, and Marie Curie. “Marie turned out to be a real ax-wound so I stole her diary as a joke. Mayo’s I dug up from under Jimmy Hoffa and Einstein’s? Picked that up at a garage sale.” Doctor Lauren can’t believe The Morrigan haunts garage sales but apparently, most of her best stuff was found there. “My Van Gogh, my Stradivarius, two Faberge eggs. Gustave Faberge would lose his shit if he knew.” Heh. The doc clues in that all these medical and artistic wunderkind were Fae. “Are all these journals from the Fae?” In answer, Evony retrieves more volumes from her bag and dumps them on the couch before Doctor Lauren. “There’s hundreds more in the Dark achieves,” she says. The doc reverently opens one to a page and starts reading about a tuberculosis case study from 1880. She realizes this doctor was experimenting on humans. “Typical Dark Fae callousness.” Ah, you were just experimenting on people not too long ago, however unknowing. Evony scoffs at the hubris of Doctor Lauren’s kind. “That doctor was not Fae.” The doc is mildly chagrined. “Although I am very proud of my profession, I haven’t always agreed with the methods of my forefathers.” Evony doesn’t understand why, since medical treatment for humans is best researched on humans. Doctor Lauren arrogantly mocks Evony’s outdated theories. “We actually use computers now to navigate diseases and help find cures. We can grow organs, tissue samples…” Evony offers to compromise by cloning someone and experimenting on them. The doc objects that it’s disgusting and she won’t do it and that Evony can’t make her do it. Look at the end of season three; if Taft can, anyone can.
Evony tells the doc she doesn’t have to do anything she doesn’t want to, she just wants Doctor Lauren to feel free. “Oh, okay, and morals? Ethics?” Evony: “Overrated! BUT if they’re important to you, I can respect that.” Well, they haven’t been important to the doc so far, so I doubt you’re gonna have a problem there, Evony. The doc tries to set terms. “If I agree to work with the Dark Fae, it will have to be on my own terms.” Evony has no problem with that, “Scout’s honor,” probably because the doc has already pledged herself to the Dark Fae, but whatever.
At The Dal, Kenzi is putting up a disco ball to add some flair to Ianka’s big moment. Trick urges her to leave right away. “An Alkonost’s song can hurt humans.” Undeterred, Kenzi continues to tie up the disco ball. “After nearly four years of your nerve-shredding, fiddle-dee-pluck-me-hoy-clovers-shoot-me-in-the-face music, I think I can handle it.” Trick repeats, not without fondness, that Kenzi really should go, but Kenzi’s attention has been caught by Hale’s (HALE!) arrival. He is clearly looking for someone, and Kenzi preens as she tells Trick she’s not going anywhere. But instead, Hale makes a beeline for Ianka, bypassing Kenzi without even seeing her. “I’m sorry, but I am your biggest fan,” he says to Ianka, who shrieks with joy the moment she sees him. Clearly they are old friends and they kiss and hug and catch up as Kenzi watches. Trick glances up at her and grimaces to see how hurt she looks.
On alert, Dyson holds up a pillar and scans the crowd as Bo and Kenzi join the audience. Kenzi is going off about Ianka to a barely-paying-attention Bo. “So she’s famous and beautiful and Russian. She’s also obnoxious and vain and stuck up and did you know that ‘singer’ in Russian actually means ‘whore’? Except it doesn’t. Are you listening to me?” Nope. Bo dreamily repeats that Ianka is the key to her finding her memories and to finding Rainer. The ladies take seats in the front row while Dyson eases into the crowd to sit two rows behind them, still scanning the crowd. The lights dim and the make shift curtain draws back to reveal Ianka. She sings and Bo immediately goes into a trance state where she is back on the train in the white nightgown. TrainBo walks over to a server and removes the cover to reveal an old metal crown. On the inside of the crown, inscribed in script, is her name: Isabeau. She ponders it for a moment and then, in a rush of violence, sweeps the crown and the plate and cover across the room. “A train,” Bo says back at The Dal. “I’m on a train. I can almost see his face.” Ianka’s aria plays over all of this, right until a large man steps forward on the stage. The lights come up breaking the spell. The seat next to Bo is empty because Kenzi went up in a puff of smoke? Dyson is already looking at Bo and he leaps to his feet when he spies the intruder who apologizes for the interruption, “but this prized songstress of yours is wired to blow.” Dyson eases through the crowd to Bo’s side as the intruder demands they all do what he says or he blow up Ianka. Where is Kenzi again? “Looks like it’s our turn to take center stage,” Dyson murmurs to Bo. “Somebody just crossed the wrong diva,” Bo replies.
Intruder threatens more. Dyson takes a moment to study the situation. “It’s Ianka’s necklace, the crystals.” he tells Bo. Getting a lot of mileage outta that particular accessory tonight. “One music fan put a GPS in it and the other…” “Programs it to explode, yes,” Intruder finishes for her. Bo demands to know who he is and what he wants. “He is Marcus, a Camazotz Mayan Bat Warrior,” Maharajah announces from the back of the room. “He’s come for Ianka, just as he did all those years ago.” Marcus reminds Maharajah that he got Ianka all those years ago too and Maharajah reminds him that he then stole Ianka back. Marcus accuses Maharajah of wanting to fight but Maharajah claims that it’s Marcus who wants the battle as Ianka’s song evokes memories in Camazotz of battles waged and won, which bolsters their armies. Maharajah is happy to accept Marcus’ provocation and threatens that he and his fellow Baraqians will rain fire down on the Camazotz, which is when Trick intervenes. “Unrest of any kind will bring unwanted attention from the Una Mens.” Oh yeah. Remember them? All this conflict is too much for Ianka’s delicate tendency. She collapses in Marcus’ arms and smiles at him…which Bo sees. “The famous aria has weakened her.” Ianka admits it’s all too much and Bo seizes the opportunity to tell Marcus that moving an Alkonost in such a state is a death sentence. Like she would know. Marcus agrees to let Ianka rest again down in Tolkien’s Lair.
Trick paces around the settee on which Ianka once again reclines and loudly exposits that the rest will help her regain her strength as one of Marcus’s armed companions counterpaces to Trick’s path. “Yeah, and give us a chance to get a better look at those crystals,” Bo mutters. Trick, in a similar low voice, tells her they’re not crystals. “They’re Atlantean quartz. Once thought to ignite volcanic eruptions.” She asks Trick how they stop it and Trick tells her the only way is to freeze the quartz, “but only liquid volcanic argon will do the trick.” Heh. Seriously though, where the hell is Kenzi? Bo thinks it’s not a big deal and that all she has to do is send Kenzi into the tunnels. Trick: “To where?!” Bo: “The liquid volcanic argon store.” Duh.
At Doctor Lauren’s, Evony is guffawing over the doc’s Star Trek impersonations. “Doctor’s Log, star date 4365.3, sitting on couch with Evony, aka The Morrigan, who seems suspiciously human.” Evony wonders why the doc would say such a horrible thing. “Because I have feelings?” but the doc doesn’t think empathy and compassion are two traits that come to mind about Evony. She realizes she’s tipsy over only one beer. Actually, it was two, but whatever. “Twenty-five percent alcohol?!” she exclaims, laughing as she examines the label. “Are you kidding me?” The camera pans around to show a seriously judging Kenzi standing in the room. She clears her throat deliberately. “Hi! Alternate Reality (Doctor) Lauren! I’d like to talk to the real (Doctor) Lauren, so please go get her. Thank you.” Heh. Unruffled, Evony holds up an unopened bottle. “Belch?” Ha.
Hale joins a now conscious Ianka and notes she’s getting her color back. Ianka is just glad to see a face from the past. “Your face.” She reminds them of the pranks they’d play in Bamber’s amphitheatre in the dark, near the space rock. “Sonic meteorite,” Hale corrects. “Yeah.” Ianka imitates how she would sound out the tones of a push-button phone and ask “Is your refrigerator on? And if they say yes, and I say then you’d better go and catch it!” Hale laughs, delighted. “You mess the joke up every time!” She scoffs at his teasing but admits he always makes her smile. He does that for a lot of people. She kisses Hale sweetly and thanks him for the visit but insists she needs to lie down again. Hale agrees but his smile fades as she falls asleep. His cop sense is tingling. He ambles toward the door, but then pauses and instead ducks inside Trick’s hearth to hide in the cubbyhole. Apparently all of Marcus’s guards have conveniently disappeared for the moment to allow him to do that.
At her flat, Doctor Lauren takes a canister of liquid volcanic argon that can freeze Atlantean quartz which ignite volcanic eruptions from the shelf in her glass-door cabinet and wraps in it bubble wrap before handing it over to Kenzi who immediately unwraps it. Oh-kay. The doc goes over Kenzi’s cobbled explanation. “You and Bo need liquid argon to add to the barrels of your homemade merlot in order to avoid oxidation?” Kenzi cheerfully agrees that’s the plan and there’s nothing to worry about, “just our new thing. You know: A good old homemade hootch.” She points out that Doctor Lauren has something new too. “You guys like moving in together?” Give her time. The doc insists they’re just talking and explains that her flat belongs to the Light so Evony helped her find a great new loft in the city. If it belongs to the Light, what the hell is the leader of the Dark doing just strolling in, in the middle of the day? Eh, whatever. “Evony,” Kenzi repeats tellingly. “Huh. Wow. Weird.” She sniffs at the opened bottle of Dark Belch. “This doesn’t smell like Kool Aid.” The doc finally asks after Bo. She’s doing fine. Banging Dyson. Harassing weak Fae. Really, she has to be reminded to miss you. Or, as Kenzi puts it, “Black smoke, gargoyles, crystal clear Atlantean quartz. The usual. But she ah—she misses you. We all do.” Don’t lie, Kenzi. It’s not nice. Kenzi goes to leave, but the doc pings on her last words. “Wait! Did you say…clear Atlantean quartz?”
Bo descends the stairs to Tolkien’s Lair where Marcus is hovering over Ianka. He warns Bo to stay back but she knows he doesn’t really want to harm Ianka. “I want what I want,” he menaces. Glad we’ve cleared that wrinkle up. Bo suggests if Marcus tells her what that is that he wants, she could help him out. He can’t say because why articulate your demands when you can continue to be so enigmatic? He vows though that if “blowing up Bamber’s prized bird,” is his only means to achieve his nebulous goals, then yes, he will harm Ianka. So Maharajah’s name then is Bamber. That only took 25 minutes. Bo accuses him of being weak for keeping a bar full of innocent hostages. He orders her to leave but Bo isn’t having any. Marcus flips up the trigger to prove he means business. Bo glares at him. “Little men and their little toys.” She reassures Ianka that she’ll be upstairs and won’t allow anything to happen to her despite the fact that she’s abandoning the songbird with an armed zealot who’s wired her into a suicide accessory. Wow, that scene was a total waste of the pages it was printed on. Once Bo leaves, Marcus relaxes and returns to the settee to gently sit down next to Ianka. Hale comes into view behind them through the slats of the divider behind them as he pokes his head out from his hidey-hole and spies on them.
Bo enters the cask room where Dyson fiddles with an electronic device. “Mission accomplished?” she asks. Hey. It is getting a little MI at The Dal. “Bamber’s transmitter, as promised,” Dyson replies absently. Bo wonders if it will work. “Like a charm!” Dyson assures her. “You are now looking at a receiver, compliments of my days with the SIS.” Wait, Dyson was a spy for Canada in the past too? Because he wasn’t hot enough already?! Bo shoots him a look that pretty much says just that, but is distracted when Ianka’s voice comes over the receiver. Basically he repurposed the transmitter Bamber stashed in Ianka’s necklace to keep track of her and turned it into a receiver so they could listen in on Ianka and Marcus because Bo is sensing something dodgy going on between those two. Got it? Seriously, that necklace is like the fanny pack of jewelry. Please, you must Ianka says between static surges. I can’t Marcus replies followed by and you will be… Ianka: Bamber will come after Bo and Dyson exchange speaking glances over that one. Marcus: …speak his name. There’s interference on the signal and Dyson realizes someone else is listening to them. Ianka and Marcus seem to realize this too. “It’s over,” Marcus says clearly. “Don’t say that!” Ianka protests. Marcus apologizes while Ianka begs him not to do it. A high-pitched signal sounds over the receiver rising in volume and intensity. “The detonator,” Dyson realizes. “He pressed it!” Immediately, he and Bo sprint out into The Dal. Dyson takes off for Tolkien’s Lair at a run. “Everybody get down!” Bo shouts.
Everyone in The Dal cowers on the floor waiting for the explosion, including Bo. Kenzi crawls across the room to Bo’s side. “What did I miss?” she whispers. “Oh, and I have to tell you something.” But Bo is fixated on the fact that the quartz didn’t detonate. “Of course not,” Kenzi duhs. “There’s no fire in it anymore. It’s dead. Done. A fake. Like the Mayan apocalypse. God, what a rip that was.” Heh. She helps Bo to her feet as everyone else flees the bar. “Huh. Okay,” Kenzi says. She goes on to explain that the transparency of Ianka’s necklace proves its involatility.” Bo: “Now you’re telling me?!” Kenzi: “Channeling Doctor Lauren.” “Oh yeah right. How is she?” Bo asks as an afterthought. See?! Also, I call utter bullshit that Doctor Lauren would know the explosive properties of Atlantean quartz and Trick wouldn’t, I don’t care how many pipes bombs she’s built. She can’t be a surgical specialist for BOTH human and Fae, a research fellow, AND a chemistry genius at the same time. Pick one, Show, for Fae’s freaking sake already! Kenzi dissembles that Doctor Lauren is good in a general way, failing to share how happy the doc was hanging out with Evony and asks if Bo has seen Hale. Now it’s Bo turn to not tell Kenzi the truth that she saw Hale canoodling with Ianka. “Hale. Yeah. He’s, you know…around. Probably.” Kenzi decides she’s going to go find him.
Dyson and his long-legged stride amble in from the back as he returns from Tolkien’s Lair, bypassing Kenzi without even an acknowledgement. What the hell, Show? “Ianka’s gone,” he announces to Bo. “Her and Marcus. He took her right from under our noses.” Bo wonders why Marcus would take Ianka now. “And what were they doing behind that curtain?” Dyson wonders as the stage curtain catches his eye. Bo glances at the curtain and then she and Dyson have one of their nonverbal conversations where plans are made. Damn, but I’ve missed their palpable connection. Bo sets her jaw and Dyson nods slightly. She stalks off to confront Bamber while he goes to see what exactly is behind the curtain. “Looks like Tweety and Sylvester have flown the coop.” I tought I saw a putty cat. She asks Bamber if Ianka was in on Marcus’s plan all along. Bamber tentatively climbs out from behind the turned over table where he was hiding from the blast. He claims not to know, but Bo has run out of patience. “She has the answers that I need so somebody better start talking and lucky boy, that’s going to be you.” Her eyes go succubus blue and she sucks him down into complicity.
Bamber admits that when he stole Ianka back from Marcus, she was not the same. “There was a new light in her and a new distance between us.” It’s called love, idiot. Look it up. Bo realizes Ianka was never afraid of Marcus. “Are they partners?” Bamber says Marcus is a radical who is bent on hatred for all Baraqians and that’s all he knows. He slowly drops to the floor and Bo orders him to leave.
Over behind the curtain, Dyson has found treasure and he calls Bo over. “This is where Trick used to hide his rare Omni transmitter.” Yeah, where did Trick go again? “With it, Marcus could broadcast anything from anywhere.” Bo is tickled by Dyson’s ingenuity. “You fix cars too?” she quips. “Who do you think’s been changing your spark plugs?” Dyson volleys back without missing a beat. Bo smiles broadly. “Mmm, I love this side of you.” Oh honey, preach it! But saying the word finally kick starts the revelations. “Love…Love!” Dyson’s doesn’t follow. “What?!” Or maybe he’s answering her. “Dyson, they’re in love!” Bo exclaims. “That’s what Bamber was trying to say: Marcus and Ianka are in love!” Yeah, we got that about ten minutes ago, hun. Dyson wonders what that has to do with the transmitter. “You think the Bambers would ever let them be together?” Dyson gets to his feet as the pieces fall into place. “What if there were no Bambers?” Bo effortlessly picks up his train of thought. “Ianka can sing death notes. She and Marcus…they’re going to kill them all!” Dyson wonders where they’d do it and Bo remembers overhearing Hale mention some kind of sonic stonework on Bamber’s estate. “Come on. Let’s go.” But Dyson stops her. “There’s dozens of Baraqians. We have to warn them all in person.” Bo squeezes his arm. “Go get ‘em, Wolfy.” Dyson lopes off to do so. I swear, that scene had more sparkage and rhythm and connection and ease and love than a dozen Bo and Doctor Lauren sex scenes back to back. Accept no substitute.
Once again, Kenzi and Dyson switch places without any direct acknowledgement for one another. Weird. Bo grabs her car keys from the bar as a worried Kenzi hurries over. “Bo, Hale is gone! Missing!” Bo gets an oh shit look on her face. “Ohhhhh….what?” Kenzi drawls with dread. Bo slowly explains that these bird women can hurt Fae with their voices. “Hurt how? Bad hurt? Dead hurt?” Bo doesn’t answer which is answer enough and Kenzi insists she’s going with. Bo claims it’s too dangerous but Kenzi isn’t about to discuss it. “Hale’s gone and I haven’t even told him that I…” But Bo already knows. “Come on. Let’s go kick some serious ass.” That would be a nice change this season, yeah.
Bo and Kenzi stalk across the lawn from the cold open. She shouts for Ianka to stop. Ianka and Marcus turn from the stone alcove where Marcus has set up the transmitter. “The Baraqians are being warned of your death note as we speak,” Bo declares. “Yeah!” Kenzi adds, out of breath. “What she said!” But Ianka is confused and advance toward the women. “Death note? No, I am singing no such thing,” she insists claiming she and Marcus only wish to be together. When Bo asks, she claims the transmitter is only to tell Marcus’s family about their love. Darling, you have been played but good. She turns to Marcus for confirmation, but he knows the jig is up. “Some things are bigger than love,” he says portentously. Anvil! Anvil alert!
Ianka recoils in horror as she realizes he does indeed mean for her to sing the death note. “I will not kill the Bambers!” But Marcus isn’t asking and he pulls out the dog whistle to, erm, blow her into submission. Ianka tries to run, but the whistle brings her to her knees. She begs Marcus to stop but he keeps on blowing until, out of nowhere, he’s hammered by a sonic wave of siren whistle. Hale nearly skips down the stairs in his fury, his siren call barrelling against Marcus’s head all the while. Marcus struggles to draw his tricked out, steam punk pistol and aims it first at Ianka and then at Hale who has inextricably stopped sirening the man. Hale halts in his tracks and I’ve no idea why he doesn’t just whistle the man down again. “Bo, Bo help!” Kenzi urges and Bo scampers to stand between Hale and the gun. “Not like that!” Kenzi calls after her. Hale begs Bo to let him finish Marcus but the man in question swears if he hears anything but the death note, he’ll mow them all down. Bo orders everyone to leave so she can talk down Marcus. Hale repeats the order to Kenzi who predictably argues with him. “I’m not leaving; I came here to rescue you!” Bo again orders them both to go, but the argument has given Ianka enough time to gather her strength and stumble in front of Bo. “What is this, Soul Train?” she snarks. HAHA!
Ianka begs Marcus to stop what he’s doing but Marcus is all about the death note. “You love me,” Ianka implores one last time. “Just sing already, you bitch,” Marcus sneers. I feel like he hasn’t thought this all the way through and that seems to be the case as Ianka sings the Death Song and aims it at Marcus. Kenzi too is violently affected by the note. She covers her ears and screams. “Ow! Mother of Metallica, this hurts!” Bo orders Hale to get the woman he loves out of there. Hale no longer hesitates but scoops Kenzi up and carries her off as Marcus pleads with Ianka for his life to no avail. Bo breathes slowly against the pain and watches as Ianka sings Marcus to death. But it’s too much and Ianka collapses onto the patio. Bo cradles Ianka and assures her that Marcus is gone. She promises to take care of things and free Ianka from Bamber once and for all. She tries to help Ianka walk but the songbird explains that she took a life in a weakened state. “I am…no more.”
“Oh Ianka, please tell me you didn’t sacrifice yourself,” Bo quietly pleads. Ianka falls prone onto her back. “Someone would have always tried to own me,” she says. “It is the fate of my people. Most do not mind, but I do. I was the only one who could stop it.” Bo thinks Trick will know what to do, some potion or other that will revive Ianka, but Ianka knows it’s too late for her. “In captivity, I heard stories about the unaligned succubus. You are what made me believe I could be free.” Bo painfully confesses that she’s not unaligned anymore. “Your heart is what you want it to be,” Ianka tells her. “Right now, my heart is free.” With her last breath, she pushes a ring box into Bo’s hand. “For you. As you wish.” Bo carefully lowers her to the ground and, as the camera crane pulls up to take in the whole of the patio set with Dead Marcus in the back and Dead Ianka center stage, Bo looks down at the box in her hand. Was it worth the price?
A safe distance away, Hale crouches at the end of the bench where he’s laid Kenzi and strokes her hair until she rouses. “Ugh. Holy high-pitched hangover,” she groans growing in pitch as she sits up. Heh. I heard that. “Not so fast,” Hale cautions as he take the seat beside her. Kenzi asks what happened and where Bo got to. “Ianka sung a death note. Marcus is dead.” Hale says it matter of fact but he’s deeply affected by it. Kenzi misses this. “Oh. Good for her.” Hale nods. “It would’ve killed her too,” he says. Kenzi pings onto his distress. “Oh Hale. I’m so sorry,” she quietly offers. Hale shakes it off a little. “She’s finally free. And you—you’re finally here.” Kenzi takes a moment. “I’ve…always been here,” she confesses. Hale nods again and Kenzi goes for it, leaning across to kiss him. Hale’s hand slides over to caress her knee as they kiss. It’s ridiculously sweet.
They break apart. Kenzi plays when his lapel as she asks for the truth. “Ianka’s death note: did it hurt you?” Hale shakes it off. “No.” But Kenzi doesn’t quite believe him. “Hey, you lie to the Russian stink eye and bad things will happen to your junk. Which would now be a particular bummer for me.” Ha! And aw. Hale chuckles. “This Russian stink eye…it’s pretty intense.” He strokes her cheek and the hair from her shoulder as Kenzi preens—and then smacks him on the shoulder. “You’ll get used to it.” They smile at one another. I finally notice that Hale’s trousers are navy and black plaid. Love them. Kenzi snatches his hat from his head and puts it on, turning to nuzzle back into his shoulder and tug his arm around her. Absolutely adorable. Of course, that’s when Hale frowns and fiddles with his ear only to draw back a finger splattered with blood. Guess not unaffected by Ianka’s death note after all.
In her bedroom, Bo sits on the edge of her bed and slowly raises the silver ring box Ianka gave her. Opening it reveals a succubus blue glowing ball and releases Ianka’s song into the air. Bo closes her eyes as she falls under its trance. Back on the train, TrainBo examines herself in the vanity mirror. She strokes a hand over her nape and down her neck. She sighs heavily with her hand on her chest and stares at her reflection. Immediately, her skin glows beneath her hand. With a gasp, she leaps up and a glowing handprint is revealed on her skin, positioned as though someone was preparing to choke her. Bo stares at the mark with great fear and freaks out. “Oh no! No please! I can’t do this.”
Bo comes back to herself in her bedroom, tears in her eyes, as Ianka’s last song fades away. The camera shoots her long and low through the doorway between the bedroom and the bath. Dyson’s shadow precedes him as he lopes into the room through the side door to sit next to Bo. He gently takes her arm. “Bo?” he says softly, seeing her distress. Bo’s hand is on her chest where the mark showed on her skin in the memory. Still crying, she can’t catch her breath. She looks at Dyson with desperation. I don’t know what’s happening to me. He glances down at the box in her hand and then back at her face and just waits with her as she stares off into her scattered memory.
Accept. No. Substitute.
At the flat, the lights are low and Evony and Doctor Lauren are ensconced on the couch, still discussing each of their seriously questionable ethics. “Don’t tell me you don’t wear a mask,” Evony quips. “Mmm. Yours is especially…chilling,” the doc allows. I thought at first Evony was referencing medical masks, but their obviously discussing the masks each of them show to the world, Fae and human. “The higher you climb, the more you realize that you’re surrounded by sycophants and assassins,” Evony excuses. Doctor Lauren laughs charmingly. “You’re so dramatic,” she teases. She has got some serious flirt going on now. Actually, an Evony/Doctor Lauren pairing could yield some excellent complications. They have significantly more chemistry than the doc ever had with Bo, but then pretty much everyone does. Evony insists she’s realistic in a dramatic world. She promises that the doc will get her share of sycophants and assassins too. Doctor Lauren wants to know which label Evony falls under. “For now? You can call me a friend.” She hands over the key to the Dark Fae science and medical testing facilities, full access. Doctor Lauren gives her an arched look. “I won’t sign anything,” she warns. But Evony’s not asking her to. “You are a brilliant woman. Own it, girlfriend.”
Doctor Lauren reaches for the key and deliberately leaves her hand on Evony’s until The Morrigan raises a brow and pulls away. “I’ll never trust you,” the doc adds. “I wouldn’t respect you if you did,” Evony returns. “But do remember, I let you see me eat pizza. You think I’d let any schmo do that?” Doctor Lauren laughs again. Evony hands over the keys to the doc’s new condo and encourages her to call Evony if she needs anything else. As she puts her stilettos back on, Evony admits that the day was fun, “right?” Somewhat surprised to realize it’s true, Doctor Lauren gets up from the couch and calls Evony’s name. When she turns, the doc kisses her softly. Evony is a little taken aback but not at all unhappy about it. “Pizza’s our secret,” the doc promises. “I think this might be the beginning of a beautiful…something.” The doc kinda swivels in place. “Still don’t trust you,” she repeats. Evony chuckles. “You don’t have to, Doctor Lewis. You are Team Dark now.” She deliberately rubs her lips together to taste the doc’s kiss again. “I can taste it. Ta darling.”
Doctor Lauren watches Evony exit without expression. Once assured The Morrigan is gone, she goes over to her desk and pulls out a prepared lab tray. Extracting a makeup mirror, two Petri dishes and a large tweezers, she carefully removes a strip of residue from her bottom lip. Because getting DNA from Evony’s discarded Dark Belch bottle is too easy? I mean, it works for the cops on every single procedural show ever. Plus, considering she didn’t know Evony was even coming over, when again was she supposed to have applied that unnoticed? Eh, say it with me: whatever. The doc places the strip in the Petri dish and then, visibly pleased with herself, she raises her bottle to toast. “To…it beginning.”
Back at Hilton Hovel, Bo and Dyson are making smexy smexy love up against the wall. HOT TATTOO ALERT. Honestly, that never gets old. Hilariously, the closed captions say “(sexual grunts and pants)”. Truth in advertising there. Bo’s eyes are clenched shut as she works up and down on Dyson. I’m not even sure she’s aware she’s with him. But Dyson knows that this isn’t her—this isn’t them. “Bo, look at me,” he asks. Bo shakes her head and hops down without opening her eyes. She shoves him back toward the bed; he growls but goes, unsure what’s going on but certain that it’s not good. Still without looking at him, she climbs back onto Dyson. She doesn’t need him; he could be anyone at this point, she’s just so enraged with herself, so full of self-hate and disgust, so afraid of everything, she just needs the release. Worried, his gaze never leaves her face as she gets settled and goes back at it. She jerks him up to her so she doesn’t have to see this and smothers his face in her chest. But this isn’t them and Dyson knows Bo needs more than what she thinks she’s after. He tries to slow her down, to reach her, and calls her back again, increasingly desperate. “Bo, please, look at me,” he pleads. Eyes still shut Bo shoves her hand over his mouth and slams him back onto the bed. “Don’t tell me what to do!” she snarls.
Dyson blinks up at her and waits her out. But now her eyes are open and she sees Dyson and that’s all she needs. “I’m sorry,” she gasps, dragging her hand from his face. “I’m sorry. I’m just so, uh…” “Angry,” he says in THAT VOICE rising up from the bed to hold her. He gets it. He more than anyone understands what it feels like to lose a huge part of himself, to lose his soul, and not know if he’ll ever get it back. She doesn’t have to apologize to him; only come back to him. “It’s okay,” he says, going right to the heart of the matter. “No one owns you. You’re not gonna be like Ianka.” But Bo’s real fear is that she’ll turn into Marcus. “Bitter, choking on my bottomless rage, thinking of nothing but revenge.” Dyson takes that it and silently acknowledges the legitimacy of her fears. “Ianka died to be free, Dyson. For just a few moments.” Dyson quietly reminds Bo that she inspired Ianka to do that, but Bo thinks that person wasn’t her, that was another Bo. “One that I don’t even know,” she confesses as she climbs off him. Dyson sits up and watches her, worried again, ready for whatever she needs. Bo ties herself into her kimono as though she needs a shield in order to admit what’s next. “Whoever that Bo was, she didn’t spend a month asleep in limbo. She was on a train, hatching a plan, sending herself clues in the future!” Bo’s voice rises with every point. “She….I…joined the Dark.” Dyson blinks. I know. “Willingly,” she adds pointedly. Dyson exhales loudly. He pulls the sheet around his hips sarong style and stand up before her. Outside of Kenzi, he’s always had the most faith in her. “Then I’m sure you had good reason,” he vows. “Besides, Dark…Light…these are just labels. They do not define us.” This is a BFD for the wolf to whom so much importance hangs on allegiance. Bo knows it. She smiles up at him with love. “Looks like I’m not the only one whose changed,” she murmurs as she strokes his cheek and down to his heart. And the look on his face…
Wow. That whole scene was just lovely. Everything just works when they’re given even half a chance.
The moment is ended when pain overcomes Bo. For a moment, she and Dyson are in profile in front of the mirror, their images actually better captured in their reflection. Neat. Bo falls to her knees from the pain and Dyson kneels behind her, holding her arms to support her. Gasping, she draws the neckline of the kimono aside to reveal the glowing hand print on her chest. The scene is shot from behind them so what’s actually being seen are their mirror images. It’s a seriously cool, understated effect. Way to change it up, show. “You’re hurt,” Dyson acknowledges, worried. “No,” Bo whispers. “But I am hurting. He marked me!” Now Dyson gets pissy. “Who?!” “The Wanderer. Rainer.” There’s a creepy, oozing sound on the soundtrack that both Bo and Dyson disregard. “He might be my father,” she admits. Dyson has no answer for her there. After a moment, his gaze lifts to the top of the mirror.
The three Una Mens are behind them in the bedroom. Dyson leaps to his feet with a growl. “The hell is this?!” “Mole patrol?” Bo snarks. Arabella the Keeper is unimpressed. “The codex of laws has been infringed upon,” she intones with a hint of pleasure. Bo steps forward. “Your rules don’t apply to me,” she menaces. “Not you,” Arabella corrects. She glances over Bo’s shoulder at Dyson. “Him.” Dyson lifts his chin. Bring it, lady. He tugs Bo back out of the way by the arm and shoves her behind him. “Dyson, no!” she protests, knowing what he’s about to do will epically backfire on him. But it’s too late. Dyson wolfs out; immediately the Una Mens turn his power back on him as they wolf out too. Holy shit! This takes Dyson aback. His eyes narrow, still wolf gold, and he frowns as he tries to make sense of what he sees before him. Bo looks on with trepidation. She knows how bad it feels to have the Una Mens turn her power back on her, both the power and the fear of being helpless where once she was supremely confident. The Una Mens growl as one and that sets Dyson off for good. Snarling, he flexes his shoulders, muscles enlarging, bones elongating, as he totally wolfs out and roars.
Next week: ”La Fae Époque"