Title: Feeding Habits
Fandom: Lost Girl
Pairing: Valkubus (Bo/Tamsin)
Rating: Err’body up in hurr. There may be some language, knowing me, but nothing particularly bad.
Word Count: 2 407
A/N. This isn’t even The Valkubus Fic (capitals denote greatness, duh). No. But it’s on its way. Also I would like to point out that I am not dealing with my Valkubus feelings at all.
“Damn, Bo-Bo – I know I said you look good in red, but this is not what I had in mind.”
It’s not exactly like it was an accident – which is probably why Kenzi’s exclamation as soon as she gets through the door puts her more than a little on edge. Sure, the whole ‘getting stabbed by a frost giant’ thing was an accident – definitely so – and, really, so was the part of her evening where her previously white shirt turned into a miserable bloody mess, but the ‘healing’ part of the whole ordeal? Accident? No, not so much.
Bo’s not the kind to find herself in ‘accidentally’ sexual situations, anyway. Generally they’re fully intentional.
Oh shit, she’s here. She’s home. She was supposed to be at work. Bo was supposed to have the time to get her shit together. Clean up, figure out how to say it – she’s guilty, she didn’t sleep with the guy (biblically or literally thank you very much), but she was hurt and she was hungry and he was there.
“Shit, babe, what is it with you and the gut wounds?”
It’s an idle note, that she interrupted her best friend and her girlfriend when they were fighting over the television remote. She’d smile at how adorable they are (to their chagrin, she would imagine) if she weren’t so damned anxious. As far as she knows, sticking your tongue down a random guy’s throat when you’re in a relationship – even if your girlfriend never calls it that – is a very big ‘no-no’. Lauren used to think so, anyway.
Kenzi gets up from the couch and walks past her, towards the door, with a clap on the shoulder and a teasing grin. “Well, this saves me from Officer Friendly’s viewing choice of ‘Two-Headed Shark Attack’. You’d best get banging! Don’t let me stop you, I’ll be off to the Dál, far away from mockbusters and succu-sex. Ta-ta!” Bo turns and watches until she’s gone and the door has closed behind her. When she spins back it’s to blonde hair and green eyes, stoic as ever, and suspicious to boot. Cool fingers find their way beneath the bloody gash in her shirt, running across smooth skin.
“You’ve healed,” Tamsin says coolly, always so hard to read.
Bo frowns. She’s seen anger before, when it comes to her appetite, and hurt. Jealousy, possessiveness. Tamsin displays none of those things – though that doesn’t necessarily mean the Valkyrie isn’t feeling them. She wants to explain – stomach wounds are a bitch, they bleed quick, mess around with the internals (you’re coughing up blood before you know it), and the human man was running in the wrong part of the woods at the exact right time. It was just a kiss, just to feed, just to heal, not for the sake of betrayal or romance. She’s been dreading the conversation for the whole ride home, letting the guilt build up – she’s good at that, she’s got years of experience – but Tamsin’s hand presses a little more firmly beneath her shirt and the blonde smirks.
“Okay. So she dragged you upstairs to have her wicked, freaky way with you. I fail to see the problem here.”
Well, Kenzi would. And when she puts it that way, there really doesn’t seem to be a problem at all. There was no yelling, no miserable tones, no tears – Tamsin was no different in demeanour than normal. In practice, Bo’s stone wall of a girlfriend is very convincing. In theory, Bo’s pretty sure there should be some kind of unhappy backlash. Emotion. Something. Anything at all.
If it were Dyson, and he’d found out she’d spent ten minutes sucking the life out of some lucky guy in the woods, he’d have ratcheted up his aggressive-possessive nature by a ton (or twelve). Lauren would have given her that sad “you ran over my cat” face and pretended it didn’t bother her (it did. It always did) until it festered and became a problem. That was part of why they didn’t work out.
Tamsin, though – Tamsin just shrugged after the explanation, rolled out of bed and went about stealing a sweatshirt out of Bo’s cupboard. “It’s cool,” she’d said. “You were just sucking face. I’m going to the store. Chocolate. Maybe an energy drink.” She hummed as she pulled on her shirt. “Want anything?” Bo had been too busy blinking and feeling confused to reply at all. The blonde just smirked at her – self-satisfied as ever – and crawled halfway across the bed to kiss her goodbye. “I’ll get you some ice cream.” Then she was gone.
“I feel like this should be a bigger deal than it is. It always has been before.”
“Yeah, but, Bo,” Kenzi replied, frowning at her and playing with her spoon. She’d come waltzing back into their draughty little hideout shortly after Tamsin left, smiling when she found Bo alone on the couch and asking for the story behind the earlier bloody clothing while she fixed a bowl of cereal. “That was with Lauren, and Dyson. And I hate to point out the obvious here, but Tamsin is, well, Tamsin.”
There’s a reason she relies on Kenzi for perspective. She’s not so sure that’s the greatest display of it. Nonetheless, she’s thankful for the way Kenzi just listens when she recounts her stories and never seems to judge against her for them. The Morrigan being a vengeful bitch and hiring a frost giant to abduct kids and lure Bo into the woods is pretty standard stuff, honestly, nothing bad in Bo’s name there – but more where her feeding habits are concerned? That’s the relief topic. That’s where her concern comes in, and Kenzi’s lack of derisiveness matters most. Bo spent a great many years feeling ashamed for her nature – but Kenzi has never made her feel like that.
“…I am well aware that my girlfriend is my girlfriend.”
“Girlfriend being the key word for you,” Kenzi allows, rolling her eyes, “yes, I know. Alls I’m saying is – maybe your Germanic warrior princess has a little more understanding of the difference between commitment and eating habits than your past partners.” Which makes sense. But Bo’s not so sure how likely that is.
“I just feel like she should have been angrier somehow,” she sighs, biting her lip while Kenzi shovels another spoonful of cereal into her mouth.
“Well,” Kenzi says, but it sounds more like ‘wurmph’ with her mouth full. She swallows before continuing, thankfully. “Maybe you should ask your valktastic girlfriend. I don’t really understand how her brain works. I mean, mockbusters in the middle of the day? Really? And without alcohol? That shit is cray.”
Bo can’t help it. She laughs.
Tamsin comes back with all the necessary supplies for a movie marathon and sneers at Kenzi when the girl tries to claim ownership of the television remote.
“We’ve been through this,” she says, flopping onto the couch beside Bo and throwing an arm around the brunette’s shoulder. “Eldest picks the movie. And I’ve got three centuries on you, Fox-bait.”
“And we’ve been through this,” Kenzi argues. “Your viewing tastes are muchos loco, senorita. Mockbusters are not on my weekday itinerary. Don’t make me pull the best friend card.”
“I’m not your best friend,” Tamsin points out dryly.
“No-o-o,”Kenzi drawls. “But Bo is,” she pats Bo on the head and grins. “And sweetheart, you don’t want to know what I can do to ruin your sex life. Now – give the gorgeous Russian girl in the room the remote and graciously accept defeat.”
Tamsin makes a show of scowling as she hands it over, but Bo catches her smiling while Kenzi whoops her victory and hops up from the couch to hunt for DVDs. Bo nudges the blonde and leans over to whisper in her ear, “You like her. Admit it.” She earns narrowed eyes and pursed lips for her trouble, but she knows better than anyone how well she can wear a person down with her smile, and Tamsin has never been the exception.
“Fine. Yes. Your human is growing on me,” Tamsin grumbles. Bo settles back against her, throwing her legs across Kenzi’s lap when the girl sits back down and chuckling when the blonde adds on, “Like a rash. Or a tumour.”
“When you two are done whispering sweet nothings,” Kenzi interrupts, patting Bo’s knee pointedly, “we’re totally having a horror flick fest. There’s beer in the fridge and popcorn on the table. Are you prepared for thrills, chills, and a whole bunch of intellectually questionable decisions?” Bo gives the affirmative and Tamsin grumbles what sounds like a “booo” from her end of the couch, but Kenzi seems to take it in kind. “Then family movie night is a go!”
Even the creepy ass title music that starts when Kenzi presses play doesn’t stop Bo from feeling the way Tamsin tenses up behind her. Bo turns her head ever so slightly to look at her – and the Valkyrie has a look on her face that resembles shock. It’s a throwaway term for Kenzi – family movie night – something she says because it sounds right, because it means enough but not too much. It’s her way of saying, without actually saying, that Tamsin’s part of their life now, well and truly. Their family. Bo seeks out the blonde’s hand and links their fingers gently, and Tamsin looks to her for a moment, wide-eyed, before she gives this quiet, shy smile, squeezes Bo’s hand back and focusses on the television.
Family, Bo thinks. It’s important to her. It always has been. For a lot of her life, she didn’t have one. Kenzi, she knows, cherishes it as much as she does. Tamsin never talks about it, really – but Bo know’s it’s a big thing for her too. So she’s not so sure Kenzi knows exactly how much her little comment means for Tamsin.
But Kenzi glances at her for a moment, catches her gaze from the other end of the couch through the dark room, and smiles, and Bo knows. Kenzi has a very good idea of what it means for Tamsin, and she said it anyway.
Kenzi disappears behind the kitchen counter somewhere between the second and third movie with a bottle in her hand and the sudden inclination to make (burn) pancakes. Bo takes the short window of almost-privacy to do that coupley thing that never seems to work out properly for her.
“About earlier-” she starts, and Tamsin gives her this look somewhere between shrewd and fond.
“Is this where we do the discussing of feelings? Because I have this thing about family, and I’m pretty sure you know that already, and I’m not so big on the talking part of that issue.”
“That is…” Bo hums, sitting up straight and turning to face Tamsin on the couch, legs crossed beneath her, lotus-style. “…not actually what I was referring to, but if you would like to discuss the fact that Kenzi just gave you the all-clear above all other all-clears, then I suppose we can.”
Tamsin cocks her head to the side.
“Maybe when I’m drunker,” she says. “What did you want to talk about?”
“Today, in the woods. My-” Bo bites her lip. “-feeding habits.” The guilt is an uncomfortable feeling. Tamsin just blinks at her.
“Are you apologising again? Why?”
“I feel like you should be angrier, somehow.”
“Were you emotionally invested in this kiss with a random stranger?” Tamsin asks flatly. Bo gets the feeling that the Valkyrie is only humouring her, but she plays along anyway.
“Was I picking up my phone at this time?”
“And weren’t you bleeding from a severe stomach wound at this point in time?”
“-No ‘buts’, Bo,” Tamsin interrupts firmly, but her face softens afterwards, and so does her tone. “Do you want me to apologise to Kenzi for eating the last piece of chocolate cake in the fridge?”
Bo ignores the shouted “you did what!?” from the kitchen and frowns.
“Not really,” Tamsin tells her lightly. “I was hungry, so I ate it. I think it comes down to the same thing. Like you said – feeding habits.” Bo stares, brow furrowed, and Tamsin gives her this idle smile. “I’ve seen a lot of things in my time, Bo. But never anyone quite like you. You’re a succubus, and an innately beautiful creature, and you should never be made to feel ashamed for your nature. I’m not stupid enough to think I have enough life in me to sustain you alone, indefinitely. And expecting you to stay strictly monogamous is like expecting me to stay out of the next war that pops up in the world – it’s not gonna happen. So if you’re hurt, or you’re hungry, or you need a snack, I’m not going to stop you, or love you any less for it.”
Bo feels her jaw drop ever so slightly.
“And that,” Kenzi cuts in, muffled, dropping over the back of the couch with a couple of bottles in her hands and a chip packets between her teeth. She drops it. “Is why you’re my favourite. Pancakes didn’t work out. Brewskis for my broskis?”
Tamsin takes hers with a smirk, and Bo is distracted when she takes the beer from Kenzi’s hand. It’s not every issue in the world worked out – not even every issue in their relationship, or their family, because god knows she has enough baggage on her own, let alone Kenzi and her runaway teenage years, and Tamsin’s three centuries wandering. It’s not everything, but it’s what’s important for the moment. It’s all that really matters now. She doesn’t have to feel guilty anymore. She hums and settles back in with the two most important people in her life to heckle a few more B-Grade horror movies and drink copious amounts of alcohol, smiles when Tamsin takes her hand again and Kenzi throws a few pieces of popcorn at her. And breathes easy, finally. This must be what peace feels like.