You wanna know, know that it doesn't hurt me?

"Kenz, are you sure you'll be okay by yourself?" Bo, dangerous, seductive, had her arm linked with her latest Man of the Month, some wealthy dark fae with a conscious who was really into the unaligned succubus. Just like everyone else.

"Go," Kenzi said, "The sooner you leave the sooner I can get to my robot hooker killing." The fae man was confused, but Bo simply blew her roommate a kiss and tugged her new man away for a night of… whatever. Kenzi wasn't exactly the sort to ask.

"Come to mama," she whispered to the bottle of tequila Bo's boy toy had brought over. She figured he was okay enough to sex up her bff so long as he kept arriving with alcohol in tow. So maybe she was a little easy, but who cared? That's right, no one.

You wanna hear about the deal I'm making?

"Die, hooker!" There was a sharp knock at the door just as Kenzi was laying waste to an onslaught of robot bimbos all technologically altered to look like barbie dolls. Or Bo.

Kenzi stumbled, bottle in hand as a last minute weapon should she need to strike anyone over the head. Her stockinged feet caught on the uneven floor of their dive home and she tripped, catching herself on the barebones framing in the hall. She would swear to an officer of the law she hadn't been drinking that much.

"Oh, sweet irony," Kenzi lamented as she swung the door open to find Dyson, officer of the law, standing impatiently in the hallway. Which was new because Kenzi was pretty sure he only did broody and wolfy. Not impatient.

"Yo D-man," she said, "What's crack a lackin?" Dyson took in her rumpled appearance complete with sweats rolled to the knees and eyeliner smudge more than usual.

"Girls night in?" he dared, noticing how petite she truly was without six inch stilettos helping her out.

"Girl singular," she said, "Not girls plural. Sorry Teen Wolf, but if you're looking for a booty call, that booty said hasta la vista about an hour ago." She held up the bottle of liquor, swishing the tequila around as she grinned.

"New guy came bearing gifts," she said, holding the door open as a gesture he should enter, "But if it's any consulation, you're still my favorite. Granted, you are the only guy who has come armed with pizza, so I'm positive that makes me biased."

Kenzi kicked the door shut behind her, sliding her feet across the floor as she navigated her way back to the couch where Dyson was already staring at the television with a puzzled expression.

"Robot… hookers?" he said and Kenzi grinned, jumping onto the couch with a yelp and flipping the game off.

"It's amazing, I swear, and I'm not just saying that because I'm a loco chiquita on tequila. Olay!" The laugh that followed was a bit manic, but Kenzi didn't really care, especially when Dyson occupied the other end of the couch and pulled her stockinged feet into his hands. His fingers automatically found the knots in her feet and she set the tequila bottle on the floor for fear of it falling and breaking as her head rolled back and she moaned.

"So is giving a killer massage some fae genetic thing," she asked, "Or did they teach you that at police school?" He smiled and tugged one of her socks off, her foot protesting at the cold before he covered it with his warm hands and kneaded away a particularly tough knot.

"Practice," he said, "I've had a lot of girlfriends and have given them quite a few massages."

"Oh, and here I thought I was special." She pouted and he tugged her sock back on and gave her knee a gentle squeeze.

"You are special, Kenzi," he promised. She almost believed him.

Tell me we both matter, don't we?

There was a frantic knocking on his door and Dyson sighed, allowing his punching bag to continue swinging as he covered the short distance to the metal door and pulled it open. There stood Kenzi, even more impossibly small than normal, with a too thin jacket wrapped around her too small frame.

"Kenzi, what's wrong?" The young human stepped forward and he pulled her into a hug, one of his hands coming up to cradle her head as she clutched at his chest.

"Bo and her stupid boyfriend are fighting," Kenzi said, "I couldn't handle the yelling anymore." She pulled back far enough that she could look up at the wolf with his pale blue eyes that saw more than he let on.

"Can I hang here for a bit?" she asked and he stepped back, pulling her with him and shutting the door.

"No need to ask," he said and she smiled, a sad, pathetic little smile that didn't reach her eyes as she padded over to his bad and flopped across the foot of it, toeing her shoes off and watching as he resumed pounding away at the punching bag suspended from the ceiling. The mention of Bo and her boyfriend was providing him with more steam to work off.

"It's okay, you know," Kenzi said all sage like, "Yeah, she kind of tossed your love in your face after you got it back, but you're not the only one she's been ignoring." Dyson's fist collided with the leathery surface of the punching bag and he stopped, holding it against him as he rested his head on it and looked over at Kenzi. She had a sleepy smile on her face as she watched him, her dark hair spilling over his bedspread as a yawn escaped her lips.

"You're the strongest person I know," he said and she grinned, halfheartedly brushing him off as sleep began to take over. Damn his bed was comfortable.

"Someone's got to be the badass mofo around here," she said, false modesty lost as she yawned again. He watched her eyes flutter shut before he began to wail on the punching bag again, taking out his aggression towards Bo and her new boyfriend, but also taking out the aggression that Kenzi insisted on bottling up.

Kenzi, on the other hand, was lulled to sleep by Dyson's rhythmic punching.

If I only could, make a deal with God

"BoBo, why don't you give our favorite wolf a second chance?" Kenzi was washing dishes, for once, while Bo killed a severe hangover with a little hair of the dog. It was Trick's secret recipe that Kenzi had managed to worm out of him after his miracle hangover cure worked like it was supposed to- miraculously.

"I have, Kenzi," the succubus said, "I've given him a second chance. And a third chance."

"But he's got his love back," the younger girl argued, "And there's that whole, wolf mating for life thing. Doesn't that mean anything to you?" Bo looked up from her glass, eyes narrowing as Kenzi stood before her with suds on her hands and a frying pan held dripping on the floor.

"What does it matter to you?" She shrugged the question off and turned back to her dish duty, scrubbing furiously.

"You're my sista, Boski, but D-man is my friend too. It'd be nice if we could all chill and kill robot hookers together without it being awkward." Behind her, Bo laughed before complaining about her killer headache.

"Anything involving robot hookers is awkward," the succubus argued and Kenzi let the argument die. She waited until she heard Bo retreat to her room before peeling off the yellow cleaning gloves she'd jacked from Trick and tossed them into the empty sink. Her phone buzzed and she unlocked the keypad, opening the new text from Dyson.

Need a place to hang again?

There were thoughts. Many thoughts that ran through Kenzi's head. Thoughts about Bo, Dyson, their friendship, their individual relationships… lots of thoughts. But it all boiled down to the fact that Dyson was in love with Bo and Kenzi couldn't hold a candle to the succubus. And even if she could, that was territory she couldn't enter.

No.

She was the sidekick. This is where she belonged.

Get him to swap our places

•§•

a/n: Song is 'Running Up That Hill" by Placebo. Kind of struggled with the ending. After three attempts, I settled on this. Fave, flame, faint.

oxox.