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They’re surrounded, and as far as Bo could tell, without an exit strategy. She’s been ambushed before (somewhere along the line, being double-crossed becomes routine for her) but she’s not sure she can even call it that when she willingly stepped into this one. Too many bodies moving at once, voices and limbs whisking past her face. She’s frozen in place, held down by the vibration of movement around her. She’s never been more terrified in her life.
“Alriiiight, let’s do dis,” Kenzi announces, hands on hips as she surveys the crowd.
Bo grabs her arm before she could disappear into the mob without explanation and pulls her aside, away from the metaphorical child in the room.
“Remind me again why we’re here again,” Bo hisses.
“Um hello, we cannot have tiny Tamsin here raiding through our wardrobe every time her wings decide to sprout. She needs her own shit,” Kenzi nods towards the blonde, who’s looking quite miffed at being excluded from the conversation. “Besides, she’s already ripped through two of my favorite jackets. I swear, that girl gives Red Bull a run for their money.”
“Can’t we just let this pass until she becomes, you know, adult-like?” she pleads, swiftly dodging an angry mother of two. “It’s like a freakin’ warzone in here.”
“Dude, girl may be a walking fetus but she’s hardly pint-sized. I can’t have her wearing my tanks like some skank-ho.”
Kenzi gasps at those last words and then covers her mouth before looking over her shoulder. Bo rolls her eyes. She’s been acting like a nagging mother figure ever since Tamsin started shacking up with them. Setting ground rules in the house -- no profanity, no alcohol, and no feeding, Kenzi warns, stretching that last part for emphasis. Then she makes a sweep around their apartment and locks all the liquor in the corner of their basement.
Bo’s been getting around that with late nights out and inviting herself for lunch with random strangers. But Kenzi’s asking for what’s the last of her sanity.
“C’mon, just roll with it. And it’s Black Friday shopping. You love Black Friday shopping.”
“No Kenzi, you love Black Friday shopping, and I love you,”
“Awww,” Kenzi cooes, and lightly punches her on the shoulder. “Now suck it up sistah, we gots ourselves some baby shopping to do.”
---
Oh, she was going to kill Kenzi.
She turns her head for a second and the next she knows, Kenzi’s slipped into the crowd and stranded her with not-so-tiny-Tamsin here.This is one occasion where Bo does not appreciate those sneaky moves of hers.
And then there’s Tamsin, looking at her in that expectant way that makes Bo thinks she’s way in over her head. Kenzi’s so much better at dealing with Tamsin, people in general actually. When Bo deals with people they either end up putty in her hands or dead.
“So um,” she starts awkwardly. “How about we have a look around. And just pick out anything you like.”
Tamsin’s eyes widen, and there’s an intensity that reminds Bo of the first time she used her Valkyrie powers on Dyson. She didn’t understand the extent of her powers then, but she could still feel the newfound cold air sweeping the room.
This time, the intensity is laced with a certain innocence.
“Anything?”
“Within reason.”
But Tamsin’s already off, frolicking towards the escalators and Bo does her best not to laugh at the absurdity of it all. She makes a mental note of it, like some embarrassing ammunition for when Tamsin does regain her memory.
---
So while Tamsin’s checking out the winter collection, Bo’s been checking out the attendants, ranking them from not-even-snack-worthy, to full five-course meal. She’s fixated on mentally addressing this one redhead behind the counter when she feels a sharp jab in her side.
“Ow!”.
“I want to try these on,” Tamsin’s back, with an alarmingly large load of clothing tucked under her arm.
“Okay, well, the fitting room’s that way,” Bo points towards the sign.
She doesn’t budge, and starts doing that staring thing with her eyes again. There’s chills too this time, but for an entirely different reason.
“What?” Bo blurts, unable to hold the silence.
“Come with me.”
“What? Why?”
She shuffles her feet in an awkward beat, but doesn’t avert her eyes.
“I feel safer when I’m with you.”
It’s Bo’s turn to stare, because she never expects those words to fall from that face. The same face that very nearly slashed her throat on one occasion.
“Okay. I guess I could, um, come along,” Bo answers slowly.
“Great,” and Tamsin smiles, pulling her along by the arm. She’s been doing that a lot lately, smiling that is. It’s something Bo can never quite get used to. It softens her, almost tames those Valkyrie tendencies.
It makes Bo remember that Tamsin was a person once.
---
It’s been well over fifteen minutes of just pacing back and forth in the waiting area. Bo starts to worry. What if some sketchy character’s whisked Tamsin away without her knowing? It’s not like she’s short on enemies or anything and apparently, that Valkyrie hair is a serious cash-in.
Bo’s never been one for patience (and suspects Kenzi’s been rubbing off on her in that way), so she picks up her feet and heads towards the stalls, ignoring the indignant shouts of people in line.
“Tamsin. Tamsin, which one are you in,” she calls in a semi-whisper.
There’s a pause, followed by a quiet knock from the very end.
“Tamsin,” she whispers, as she stops before the door. Knocks once. “Are you okay in there?”
There’s a muffled reply that Bo can’t quite make out. But when she presses her cheek against the frame she thinks she hears sniffling. Then a hiccup.
Shit.
This is exactly why she needs Kenzi with her at all times. She saves the world with her words and Bo with her fists.
“Tamsin,” she tries again. “Can I come in?”
As the door unlatches, there are flooding to her mind about what she’ll say, how best to deal with this. Bo’s nervous and a little frightened but the face that emerges almost dropkicks her in the gut.
The tears are still fresh, streaked across her cheek, watery like her eyes. And in those eyes there’s sadness and loathing -- sentiments Bo understands all too well. She looks in the mirror on occasion, really looks at herself. And when Kenzi bursts in the bathroom abruptly and incoherent after a night of booze, Bo sees them side by side in the mirror and realizes there’s an envy that she never knew she had.
Bo steps foward. She wants to help Tamsin, wants to reach out rescue this version of herself from mirror. Another step, and Tamsin inches a step back. Something else flashes in those eyes. Shame.
In a moment of realization, Tamsin quickly hides her arm around her back but Bo’s eyes beats her to it. There’s blood, also fresh, seeping from her back and running along the side of her arm.
“Did you, you know,” Bo makes a flapping gesture that feels ridiculous and out of place.
Tamsin looks away but nods. It’s odd, but the pain of her condition doesn’t occur to Bo until now. Maybe it’s because she’s up to her neck in her own shit but the thought of repeating this at every life cycle makes her a little sick. Makes her want to strangle those so-called higher powers.
“I didn’t mean it,” Tamsin cracks. “It just, sort of happened. I didn’t mean it I swear.”
She calls Tamsin incredible once but she’s not sure if she meant it or if it was the impending danger of Valkyrie Tamsin wrecking havoc in her wake. Maybe it was her subconscious intuiting things she already knew, because she means it now. Bo has her problems, fair share of pain, but she also has her circle of friends to unload them on. Tamsin lives alone in her truck and dies alone in a pile of rubble.
She takes a tentative step, and another when Tamsin doesn’t move away. Gently, she draws her into a hug -- doesn’t use her powers this time. She feels Tamsin squirm a bit, tenses up before relaxing and bringing one arm around her back. She wants to save this Tamsin, the one without hardened eyes and hardened heart. She wants to be Kenzi for once, be the one who saves people and not just lives. Bo smooths her fingers around the red blotches on her back and closes her eyes.
---
“Hey girl how you been?”
Bo whips around to see Kenzi parked next her, two bulging bags at her side.
“Where the hell wer--never mind. Tell me those are from the sales section.”
“I make no such promise,” Kenzi deadpans. “But more importantly how’d it go?”
“How’d what go.”
“Oh stop dicking around. Tamsin of course.”
“You ditched me on purpose didn’t you,” Bo states accusingly, narrowing her eyes.
“Uh, of course I did. But stop avoiding the question.”
Bo glances at the girl in question, who’s now staring intently at the Christmas tree in the middle of the mall, mouth half open and eyes full of wonder, ignorant of the quizzical looks from passersby. Bo smiles.
“Incredible, it was incredible.”