A/N: I own nothing, much to my ever-growing sorrow.
Kenzi stared at Bo, mouth pursed and eyebrows raised.
"I don't get sick. I've never been sick in my life."
"Bo-balicious, your nose is red, your eyes are watery, your voice is hoarse, and—not to be a party pooper or anything—but you look like shit. You're sick."
"Isn't it like impossible for the fae to get sick?"
Kenzi nodded, reluctantly. "Yeah, except, Lauren became the Ash's labra-doodle when an illness swept through the Congo...just saying."
Bo sighed, her head sliding down to the cabinet. "Sick?"
"I don't even know what the flu is like."
"Fever, check; headache, check; muscle aches, check; sore throat, check; cough; double check. And you can take that to the bank."
Bo rolled her eyes. "Maybe I just need to feed, and I'll be better."
"We can try."
Bo let out a deep cough and groaned when it scratched her throat. "Let's go then."
"Bo-bo...no one would want to touch you with a ten-foot pole...no offense."
"None taken," her friend whispered back, staring at the coffee in her cup.
Kenzi sat down the two blue pills for Bo that had started the whole discussion. "This will help with any pain and fever. If you want...I will sacrifice myself for the greater good of humanity," she said, looking pained and like she was facing a firing squad. "This way," she said to explain further, "you don't have to leave the house. I know you don't feel like it."
Bo smiled slightly, not really feeling up to laughing. "I'll make you like it."
"I'd really appreciate that, actually." She looked like she was eating a lemon.
Bo ran her hand on Kenzi's arm. Both of them looked at the hand meeting the arm. Neither were into it.
Kenzi, again with the lemon face, moaned out pitifully, "Okay...just get it over her with. Like a band-aid."
Bo pressed her lips against Kenzi's screwed up ones. Nothing.
Both looked at each other in shock.
"Succubust..." Bo whispered, feeling a little out of it, now that she had no way to heal herself.
"Okay. You got get your coat while I scrub my lips off my face. This calls for a visit to Doctor Hotpants."
Bo rolled her eyes, but silently agreed. Kenzi was gorgeous, but she was firmly settled in the Do-Not-Touch list. Kenzi was the Do-Not-Touch list. She'd be washing her lips off too.
Ten minutes of thorough washing later, they headed slowly out the door.
"Totally called it!"
Lauren sent a tight smile to Kenzi while she checked the thermometer in Bo's mouth. Normal succubus temperature was the same as humans, but the current one in her care's temperature had passed a hundred degrees Fahrenheit and was steadily climbing.
"About every one hundred years, a fae-only flu sweeps through and decommissions all fae for two weeks. Everyone will be too sick and will need complete and utter bed-rest. Most fae actually aren't able to even access their powers, just like you discovered. It can't be healed by their means."
Kenzi smirked. "So, for two weeks, they're all as weak as newborn baby kittens with fluffy ears and twice as human as me?"
Lauren sent her a real smile this time, knowing how it felt to be seen as less than fae. It would be nice to see the fae have to rough it like the rest of the world. "Yes, essentially."
Taking the thermometer from Bo, she glanced at the digital numbers. "One-oh-four-point-three. That's awfully high, Bo, even for the flu."
Kenzi frowned. "I gave her a fever reducer before we came too."
Lauren frowned. "I think it would be best if you stayed here for observation. The Ash is sick, and the noble families are here as well. But your fever is higher than theirs. I don't want you to be too sick."
"I can't stay here. I have to go home," she croaked out.
"Why?" Kenzi asked.
"Because...what if someone tries to hurt you?"
"Bo, Lauren just said that the fae have lost their fae-dom for two weeks. That means for fourteen days, I'm the biggest, baddest motha' on the streets. Not that I'm not already...but this is in the literal sense now."
"I still need to go home."
With a long-suffering yet patient sigh, Kenzi countered, "I get you don't want to be with the Ash-hole and his butt munchers, but-"
"Kenzi!" Lauren hissed sharply, looking to make sure the Ash, some five beds away, didn't hear her. By his glare, he had.
Kenzi went on, like Lauren said nothing. "-you need to get better, and Lauren is a doctor. I can take care of you, but Lauren's got the right stuff. I'll run home and grab you some things so you won't be bored. Or dirty. And then I'll visit every day."
Bo pouted, but nodded.
"Actually. We're going into quarantine as of tonight. You won't be able to visit until I give the all-clear. Probably in two weeks."
"Then I'm going home," Bo declared, already crawling slowly off the bed.
Laying a hand on her back, and pulling her back to her previous position, Kenzi's next pronouncement brokered no back-talk. "You'll have your cell phone. I bring your charger. We'll text and play Draw Something."
"Are you sure?" Bo asked, looking like a lost child. Lauren was struck with just how much Kenzi took care of Bo and how she was taking charge of the situation, like a mother and child.
"What will you do?"
"Kill Robot Hookers and eat pizza. Maybe bug Hale."
"Actually, Hale is here. Stergis demanded he receive treatment, as his heir," Lauren whispered.
"Then I'll take a vacation from the fae. Maybe go see my cousin in Nova Scotia."
Bo nodded, clearly depressed.
"Cheer up Bobo! I'm not running away, and you'll feel better in two weeks. We'll do something together for fun—maybe kick Vex's ass."
"Cross my heart."
Bo sighed, and looked pitifully at Lauren, feeling more human than she'd ever felt. She briefly wondered how Kenzi could always be so strong when she herself felt so powerless. "Okay. Let's do this."
"I'm going to take good care of you Bo."
Kenzi looked at her. "You better."
Lauren felt the threat for what it was. It actually sent a chill up her spine—fae Kenzi might not be, but protective and kick-ass she was.
After dropping Bo off some books, her cell-phone, a suitcase, and some weapons—just in case—Kenzi contemplated the next two weeks. She'd already driven by the Dal, only to see Closed due to illness posted and the entire building locked up tight and as dark as a ghost-town. There was no point bothering Trick, as she'd seen him playing—and beating—Hale at chess before quarantine had set in when she'd dropped off Bo's things.
Bo had begged her to stay, but Lauren had put her foot down on that one and Kenzi was inclined to agree. Kenzi hated hospitals more than any other thing. They left a sick feeling in her stomach ever since she'd watched her father succumb to cancer when she was young. She'd sworn she'd never spend an overly large amount of time in one ever again. She'd be more of a hindrance than a help to Lauren, and Lauren had close to two hundred sick people to deal with.
She didn't have a cousin in Nova Scotia, either. She'd said that to appease Bo. In truth, she'd be so lonely she knew she'd go out of her mind, for the next two weeks. Everyone she counted as a friend—as some she didn't—were in lock down until further notice...everyone except Dyson.
Kenzi's eyes glazed over—she could feel them—everyone except Dyson was inside the Ash's compound. Dyson and Kenzi were the only two on the outside, and Dyson was sick.
The honk of a horn behind her drew her out of her stupor. She eased off the gas, and headed for the store. He needed looking after and Kenzi was the only one who could do it!
Besides, it wasn't like he could wolf-out on her, and she was more stubborn than Bo. He'd give in like her Uncle Vlad at a BBQ. Two weeks caring for a sick wolf wasn't her brand of vacation, but it was much better than being lonely.
Dyson shuffled to the door of his loft. He'd tried ignoring it, tried pretending it wasn't happening, but he'd been unable to shout at the person banging on it and tell them to go away. His throat hurt too much.
He jerked—as best as he could, his whole body hurt—the door open to see a smiling Kenzi holding bags and bags of groceries.
"I'll pay you to go away," was his greeting.
"I wouldn't take your money, D-man. That'd be wrong as you're clearly delusional from fever. It's a good thing I came."
He let out a long suffering sigh, and glanced up at the ceiling for assistance.
"I'm just here to check on you. You weren't at the Ash's for quarantine, so I was worried. I brought you some things too—just in case."
Dyson looked down at the bags, and he had to remind himself that in order to get the bags, she'd had to have paid for at least half of it. That was a big step and the gesture was not lost on him, though he wished it had been. He couldn't shut the door in her face—one, because she, the unrepentant thief, had actually spent money on him (though God only knew how much was spent and how much was stolen), and two, because she was already putting said groceries up in his kitchen. He shut the door and shuffled slowly after her.
There must have been a sale on onions, because she had at least ten pounds of them. She also had a whole chicken, celery, flour, eggs, and several herbs.
Setting a bottle each of honey and vinegar down, she gently took hold of his arm, and led him to his bed. Like a little lamb, he let her glide him and actually tuck him in. She even fluffed his pillows. He didn't know why he was letting her do this, but part of him felt taken care of, which was new. And nice. It was definitely nice to be taken care of.
"Kenzi..." He started. He should tell her he didn't need this. He was an alpha. Alphas didn't need tucking in.
"Now don't worry, D-man. I'm just going to get you settled, and fix some soup and tea. Then I'll be out of your hair. I just want to make sure you're okay." She wasn't about to mention she planned to be here everyday. He really would kick her out if he knew her plan.
Dyson let out a little grumble of protest, but it was only a little one, and didn't have any force to it. Kenzi, for her part, completely ignored it.
He watched the tiny woman practically dance back over to his kitchen and bring back two bags and his trash can. She produced a large box of tissues, some cough drops, pain reliever, a thermometer, some pantyhose, and two onions. He watched as she peeled both onions and shoved the onions in the pantyhose before tying them to his bed post.
"What the hell?"
Her only reply was to shove the thermometer under his tongue and go back to the kitchen.
She returned with a glass of water and a wet washcloth, just in time for the thermometer to beep.
She silently handed him two pills, placed the washcloth on his head, and gently pressed the glass to his mouth. Once done, she pressed his shoulders back against the pillows and straightened his covers around his body, going so far to add an extra layer of quilts.
"My grandmother," she whispered quietly, "would put the onions around my bed when I was sick. It always made me feel better. I looked it up once. There's something about onions that attracts bacteria. The onions will keep the bacteria inside, keeping it from spreading. I got enough for the next two weeks. Now, you rest, and I'll start on some soup and that tea. Your fever is too high."
Dyson watched her leave, and checked the thermometer she'd left on his nightstand. One hundred and three. It had to be the fever that was making him all soft, otherwise, he was sure he'd have kicked her out by now...or at least asked her nicely to leave.
He watched Kenzi work in his kitchen, efficient and quiet. The sound of her humming—surprisingly pleasant with a faint lacing of actual talent—sent him off in a doze.
Kenzi noticed Dyson drift off from the corner of her eye. She was making homemade noodles for her chicken noodle soup. The chicken and veggies were already boiling away. An herb tea, also a family recipe, was steeping away next to the chicken.
He'd never admit it, but she'd seen it in his eyes. He liked being taken care of. Kenzi smirked. Nothing to it—she'd spend the next fourteen days playing nursemaid and texting Bo, and she didn't have to worry about being alone.
By day three, she really was thinking about going to Nova Scotia, and drowning Dyson while she was at it.
The man was a nightmare to deal with, and not in the typical whiny patient way. He refused to acknowledge that he was sick. He'd been broody, getting up to help her clean, refusing to let her feed him, but too weak to do it himself. She'd bullied him into submission a lot, but he was frustrating her to insanity while he was at it.
"Dyson!" She snapped, watching as he walked carefully to the kitchen for another cup of tea. She'd just finished changing his sheets, and had only been gone a minute. "So help me, I'm going drug you. I know people!"
Dyson gave her a glare that was menacing despite the misery on his face. She rolled her eyes, and cocked a hip. She gently lead him back to bed and tucked him in again. "If you had just waited a minute, I'd have gotten that for you."
"I can get my own tea. I'm sick, not dying."
Kenzi nearly flinched. She didn't want to think about her father right now. "And I'm not sick, so it doesn't make sense for you to have to do anything."
Dyson growled. "I don't know why you're here anyway."
Used to the statement by now, she sighed. "Because someone has to look after you, and it might as well be me." She wasn't about to admit that he was the only person she felt safe with right now and she didn't feel so hollow inside with him near. Her house was huge and terribly empty without Bo near.
Dyson settled in more comfortably. "I can take care of myself." He wasn't about to admit that he liked it when she took care of him, that it had been too long since someone had taken care of him instead of the other-way round.
Kenzi sighed. She gently combed through his hair with her tiny fingers. He stilled, surprised by this gentleness—though he didn't know why, she'd been nothing but gentle the whole time. She'd been careful of his body, knowing he was in pain and was doing her best to look after him. She was smoothing out his unruly curls, making him notice just how small she was.
She always seemed so much bigger than life just like her personality, but he vaguely recalled rubbing her feet after she'd waitressed when he and Bo went undercover. Her foot was barely as long as his hand, and her hand was even smaller than that.
He blinked as she kissed his forehead. "I know you can take care of yourself, wolf man. But you don't have to. Just let me do it for you, just this once. Please."
She looked so beautiful sitting there, more serious than he'd ever seen her. He just nodded, not knowing what else to do.
She gave him a bright smile, and flounced to the kitchen.
Dyson watched her flounce and shook his head. It had to be the fever.
By day five, she was terrified to leave him. She'd been going home to sleep and arriving early in the morning before that, but now his fever had climbed too high. Chills were wracking his body, and she couldn't get his fever down. She hadn't been home since, and it was the fourth day of his fever. Five days left of the flu.
She'd text Lauren to ask about the progress of the illness, claiming to not have heard from Bo. It turned out that everyone on Lauren's watch was suffering from serious fever and Bo was sleeping through hers. Kenzi promised not to text again and told Lauren a sincere thank you for doing such a great job.
They'd been getting along very well, but Kenzi didn't mention she was caring for Dyson. She wanted that to be a secret. She didn't want anyone to know she was afraid of being alone—even though she'd been alone for the better part of her life.
Kenzi had settled down to living with him for the time being. She had also raided his clothes, finding a pair of boxers and a large button-down (which looked ridiculously large on her) to wear around the house while she washed her clothes. She hadn't worn make-up or done her hair in nearly four days, but that didn't matter so long as Dyson got well.
Kenzi stretched out her back and yawned deeply. She also hadn't slept—truly slept—in that many days. She was setting her cell-phone for thirty minute naps every five or so hours, but she wasn't functioning so well. Her eyes felt dry and she couldn't stay warm, which was common when she didn't have enough sleep.
Careful not to disturb the shifter, she eased the bottom sheet up underneath him and hooked the gathered end over the mattress corner. He'd sweated all over the set from the day before. Settling down, she began to bathe his face, chest, and arms in warm water. She was meticulous about keeping him clean. She'd never been able to keep her home clean, but she knew Dyson was a stickler for clean and knew it would help him heal faster.
Dyson cracked his burning eyes open. Kenzi sat on the edge of his bed, wringing a washcloth over a bowl of steaming water. Her hands were red from the heat, but her face was pale and her eyes looked bruised from the heavy bags. She looked exhausted, but she continued to bathe his chest and clean the sweat from his body.
He noticed the lazy way she paid close attention to his chest and abs. He too noticed several things about her in a lazy fashion. How her hair curled riotously around her face like a halo, and how young she looked without her make-up and how it warmed up her skin tone. How electric blue her eyes were without the make-up to make them seem so pale.
Unaware that he did so, he pushed an errant curl behind a tiny ear, causing her to pause in bathing.
Kenzi's tired, red-rimmed eyes caught his fever glazed ones. He cupped a cheek. Her hand came up to rest on his, twining their fingers. She kissed his plam.
So he did, because she'd demanded it so prettily.
The next day, he was right as the rain. He didn't quite feel like doing jumping jacks, but he felt better than he had in days, with the help of a quick shower. Thinking of days, he glanced at his surprise bed partner as he strolled back into the main area.
Kenzi was curled up like a kitten on the far edge of his bed. She was wearing his clothes, and it was obvious that she hadn't left him in days. Her cell phone had woken him, but she was dead to the world, and remembering how tired she'd seemed the day before, he let her sleep. He walked to the kitchen, where he found more of her homemade tea—she really needed to sell that stuff, it was amazing—and got out leftover chicken and dumplings. He felt ravenous, and devoured the entire container within ten minutes
A movement caught his attention, and he watched the tiny human roll over, closer to his side of the bed. A pang of longing lanced through him and he was shocked to find himself wishing he was over there next to her.
It was an odd feeling. Now that he was better, and even his wolf was close to the surface, he felt like he could really analyze what he'd felt.
For so long, he'd been the one to see things through and to take care of things. Honestly, the last person to take care of him...had been Kenzi when he'd nearly been killed by Berserkers and again when she'd taken on the Norn for him. Before that, it had been his mother, nearly a thousand years before. Kenzi was the only person who had seen to his needs—at least, the human, non-sexual ones—nearly to the detriment of her own needs and well-being.
She sighed, a tiny sound that wrenched his heart, and despite his determination not to get close to a human, he still found himself back in bed, curling her body into his arms. Her long legs were tangled up in an extra quilt, and he marveled how good she looked in one of his best shirts.
He found himself wanting to take care of her too. That feeling would not do. He couldn't accept a human in his life—couldn't put himself on the line for someone he would outlive by another thousand years.
Kenzi finished putting on her clothes, still blushing from waking up in Dyson's arms. It would have been an easy fix—all she'd have had to do was get up and pretend it didn't happen—but he'd been awake and watching her. Holding her.
She'd always had a wicked crush on him. She was Team Dyson all the way, but he was Bo's and that was that. He was strictly on the Do-Not-Touch list.
She glared at the mirror. She looked like a mess, but it would have to do. She hadn't been home in days, and she hadn't planned on staying in the first place. Zipping her favorite pair of boots, she stood up, feeling like herself for the first time in days.
She walked out to the living area, and Dyson stood up from sitting on the bed. He was dressed in his jeans and a vest. He looked like his normal self too. She smiled softly at him, and nodded.
He smiled back. "Can I ask a question?"
"You just did."
Dyson smiled again, laughing slightly. "Another then?"
Kenzi smiled softly. "Sure."
"Why did you come?"
She frowned and looked away. "You have to promise not to tell," she said, holding out her littlest finger.
Dyson curled his own around hers, once again marveling at how small she was. "Promise."
"I didn't want to be alone. It was completely selfish of me, but I'm not ashamed to admit it...well, not completely. It's so weird. I've been alone for years, living on the streets, by myself, but once Bo came into my life, then you and Trick and Hale and even Lauren, I'd forgotten what it meant to be by myself..."
Dyson frowned at that, thinking bout the secret she was revealing. He knew so little of her past, and now here she was telling him something so personal as her fear.
"I'd forgotten that empty, hollow feeling, and I didn't want to feel it anymore. I didn't want to be by myself. And then I remembered that you were by yourself. I thought, why not. It wasn't like you were well enough to stop me. I thought..." here, she paused and laughed a little, "I though, maybe we could be alone, together."
Dyson watched her bite her lip, waiting for him to say something. "I'm glad you came."
Kenzi smiled. "Me too."
"I won't tell anyone what you've said."
She chuckled. "I figured you deserved the truth...considering I stripped you down naked and bathed you for several days."
Dyson goggled at that, and watched as she walked confidently, hips in full swing, towards his door.
He was still flabbergasted when she turned, just before shutting the door, and winked. "Just FYI, wolf-boy. There was absolutely nothing you need to be ashamed of."
Dyson laughed for a minute before that empty, hollow feeling she'd been referring to settled into his own stomach. Dyson took a deep breath. There was no point in lying to himself;the human was lodged deep into his soul and there was no going back now. She was his for as long as she wanted to be, but he would be hers for the rest of his long days. He no longer belonged to Bo—if he truly ever had. He was Kenzi's.
And she didn't even know what she'd done.
It was several more days before the quarantine was released on the others, but Kenzi hadn't been back to visit him. He walked into the Dal Riata on the fifteenth day of sickness, feeling like his old self—he'd healed quicker than all the others thanks to Kenzi and her care.
The atmosphere was very muted, and everyone was looking very rundown, including the exhausted Lauren. Bo greeted him with a weak smile, and sipped on her weak tea. Lauren was too out of it to notice at all.
"Tea?" Trick asked. Hale gave him a negative, behind Trick's back. After drinking Kenzi's tea, he wasn't sure he wanted Trick's version anyway.
Dyson smiled, and said a quick no, "Where's Kenz?"
Trick shrugged, while Bo stretched, obviously still worn out. "Over there," she said pointing to the back corner, where Kenzi sat with a bottle of Vodka and a large tome. Her legs her propped up on the table, and a booted foot tapped out a beat she was jamming to on her phone. She was back to tight jeans, leather, and steel. He found himself appreciating the hard, Gothic look, though he was sure his favorite look had been that natural look he'd glimpsed at and he wanted to see her in his clothes again—after he'd seen her in nothing, first.
He nodded to them, and headed off to see her, to the utter surprise of their ragtag team.
Kenzi looked up and grinned. "Hola."
Dyson sat down and stole her shot, which just caused her smirk at him.
"I was thinking, Kenz."
She frowned and looked at him. "Yeah?"
He sat forward, and took the book away. He glanced briefly at the title, Tuatha De Dhanna and the King of Shadows, and nearly asked her about that. Refocusing, he took her hand. "About that empty feeling you were talking about."
She froze and began to withdraw her hand. Quickly, he went on, making sure to keep her hand in his own. "Does it go away with anyone, or is it just me?"
Kenzi stopped and looked at him. "You're getting a little full of yourself, aren't you D-man?"
Kenzi nibbled on her bottom lip.
"You make it better. Bo fills up a huge chunk of it, but you...make it go away."
Dyson ran his hand over her cheek. "You make mine go away too, Kenzi. I don't know how we're going to do this—you a human and me a fae—but if you want to...we'll do this together."
Kenzi, placing a hand over his, smiled like she had a secret. "I think everything is going to work out fine."
Vaguely, he heard Hale whisper to Bo, "What the hell happened while we were in quarantine?"
Dyson smiled at her, and then leaned in, taking her mouth with his for the first time. For the first time in his entire one thousand years, the earth shattered beneath his feet, and he floated away to the stars.
Pulling back, Kenzi nipped his bottom lip. "Dyson?"
"Hmm?" he asked, trying to catch her mouth again.
"I'm so glad you got sick."
He smiled. "Me too."
She didn't say anything after that.
Watching the couple from several feet away, the ragtag team of fae (and the human doctor) all blinked in surprise.
"Well," said Trick. "I think this might be cause for celebration."
Bo smiled softly at the two. She should mind, but she didn't. She'd simply place Dyson's name next to Kenzi's on her Do-Not-Touch list.
Please review. This was my first foray into Lost Girl and I know I don't have the characters down, but I liked the idea.
I hope you don't mind me throwing a little hint about an idea I've got brewing in my brain for another story. It's been building for days, and I'm almost ready start it