Lost Girl (2010) s02e02 Episode Script

Vodka.
Triple Fudge Swirl Large-animal tranq dart.
Okay.
We're ready.
Uh huh.
You don't think you're overreacting just a little bit? Hey.
It's called being prepared.
Last time Dyson dumped Bo's ass, a car got smashed, three furies died, and a dude's HEAD was cut off.
And that was when they were just bang buddies.
Yeah tiny girl's got a point.
But why do I have to be here? Because your boy started this.
Sidekick solidarity.
Check your contract.
Just be really cool.
Just be nice.
Bo?! Hey! Hi-- Hi, guys.
Hi! Danger, danger-- She's lost her shit.
Uh, Bo, we just, you know, wanted to see if you needed anything.
You came to make sure I wasn't raging myself to death over Dyson.
Well-- Thank you very much for your concern.
But I'm fine, guys.
Really.
See? Well-- That is suspiciously good news, that is in no way convincing me.
Gotta say: you're handling this break up really well.
That is because we didn't break up! We were broken up.
By some, hooked nosed, haggy, magicky old crone who probably wouldn't know real love if it leapt up and bit her in her waddle, and who I'd be inclined to lay an epic vengeance beat down on, if I wasn't also kind of terrified by her clearly amazing Fae power-- Pink or blue? Blue.
Pink-- Uh, could you give us a second? This is kind've a girl thing, thank you.
That's what I've been saying.
Okay, talk to me-- Are you honestly okay with this? Of course not.
But last night, I realized something: Dyson risked everything for me.
He risked his wolf for me, Kenzi.
He wouldn't do that, unless he really loved me.
Not the sex, not the Succubus, me.
I've never had that before.
So-- There's no way in hell, I'm letting it go.
Not without a fight.
Well, good! So, what are we going to do?! "I" am just going to have to win him back.
Remind him of how great we can be together.
Being back at square one is a blessing in disguise.
How many couples get to fall in love twice? Hm-- That's it? "Woo"? Your big plan is to "woo"? Hey, never underestimate the power of a desperate woman-- In love.
Alright, watch your step-- Good luck, girl.
I'm rootin' for ya.
Alright, she's all yours.
Just sign the paperwork and she's good to go.
I'm so sorry.
But there's one last thing I need to do.
Life is hard when you don't know who you are.
It's harder when you know what you are.
My love carries a death sentence.
I was lost for years Searching while hiding.
Only to find that I belonged to a world hidden from humans.
I won't hide anymore.
I will live the life I choose.
You're looking rough.
I was out all night.
Well, all right! That's what I'm talking about.
Shoulda called me, because you know I'm always up for wingman duty-- I was out hunting.
Uh huh-- Doing a lot of that since you came back.
You're not going feral on us, are you? Cuz I heard women bring the animal out of your kind, not break ups.
Give me that file.
What do we got? Light Fae, prisoner escaped from the catacombs.
That's the direction she was running.
Is there anyone injured? Not fatally, but-- She's packing poison in those damn quills of hers.
We were knocked out for hours.
What was she doing all the way out here, anyway? I mean, this is miles from the catacombs.
We brought her.
Prisoner transfer.
She's been in bond eighty years.
Why are you moving her now? And on whose authority? The Ash isn't exactly running things these days.
They didn't tell you guys yet? What are we drinking? Something cold and wet and on your dime.
My cheapest ale it is.
So, I've been wanting to ask you.
What do you know about this "Norn" Dyson visited? Why--? What?! All the cool kids are doing it! Just the Light Fae, by the looks of it.
I'm guessing he's some kind of honcho? An emissary from the old country.
I suppose it was only a matter of time.
May you be the Keeper of this Waystation? That I am.
Well met.
Fitzpatrick MacCorieghan of the Clan Fin Arvin.
Guy DuCharme.
By your colours, I'd name you The Blackthorn.
And you'd be the right of it.
To what do we owe this honour? Oh, just came to have a little poke around.
See the sights.
Make a little proclamation to the people.
DING! Let it be known: by order of the Council -- in two days' time, a new successor to The Ash will be named.
Let the Selection Games begin!! Dr.
Lewis-- Wow, loud-- Yeah, yeah, sorry-- It's rampant frivolity here at the moment.
Where are you? At the Dal-- Listen, I just thought you should know: they're replacing The Ash.
What? Wh-- Who? Um-- What are you talking about? Some guy from merry old Faetown is here.
However they elect new Ashes, it's going down this weekend.
Are you there? Yeah! Yeah, I'm here.
I'll see what else I can find out, okay? I'll call you later? Yes! Uh, please, do.
It's not like we choose our local government every day, so it's kind of a big deal.
Lots of rituals, big-ass feast, and a stag hunt.
Ooh.
Will there be wenches, and mead? You crash the party, there'll definitely be a wench.
So, who is this Blackthorn, anyway? "The" Blackthorn.
Like The Ash.
It's a title, not a name.
The Dark Fae take their names from dead warriors; Light leaders are named after our sacred trees.
Trees-- Bunch of hippies.
So, this is a good thing for us, then? A new Ash? Depends on who's chosen, I mean-- We won't even know who's in the running until the big gala.
And then whichever Contender wins the hunt, gets the big gig.
How do we get tickets to this shindig? You ladies lookin' to be my date? Thanks, but um We got other places we need to be.
Have fun storming the castle.
Seriously? Yeah, well, the line up's long anyway! When do we turn down the chance for a free party? It's like I don't even KNOW you anymore.
Trust me, nothing is free when it comes to these guys and their little reality show.
Survivor: Fae Island, I would tune in.
Look, Aife got messed up in politics and nearly blew everything to hell for us.
Literally.
I'd just as soon not get involved in any Fae authority for a while, thank you very much.
Ugh.
Your mom ruins everything.
C'mon! How much fun would this be, huh? Feasting, and hunting stags! And kilts! and bangers! And mash and Mary Poppins!! Are you feeling okay? I'm all out of British crap.
You win.
I always do.
Just trust me, okay? You will thank me later.
The further we stay from this "Succession" business, the better-- What the-- Don't be scared -- How about violent? Look, if you're "Bo", I need your help.
What kind of help? You know the stag-hunt you were just talking about? Yeah? I'm the stag.
Oh, crap really got to start enforcing last call around here.
So? How much does The Blackthorn know? That there was an attack on our Elders, under The Ash's nose.
He wants The Ash replaced as a punishment, wounded or not.
And of Aife? He didn't mention any link between her and the bombing.
Far as I can tell, no one knows Aife returned.
Why? You think there's more to his visit? If he's got more cards to play, he's keeping them close to his chest.
We'll just have to wait and see.
Why would they be hunting you? Tradition.
To prove his or her merit, Contenders for The Ash compete by fighting a worthy prey.
The Stag is always a prisoner and, well-- You're an escaped convict.
Wonderful.
What'd you do to get sent to the pokey? I followed my heart.
I was planning to elope with the man I loved.
Hamish.
Neither of our peoples approved our union.
We had no safe haven.
Was he human? Dark Fae.
I'm Light.
We knew it was treason.
But we didn't care.
We were young.
We were naive.
We believed our love really would conquer all.
Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait-- Don't ever leave me.
We could've gone on in secret like that for years.
But his clan was arranging a marriage for him.
We had twenty-four hours to make our escape, or lose each another forever.
What happened? We decided to meet that night, and make our escape.
But something went wrong.
I was met by Light Fae guards, who knew of our plan and accused me of treason.
I fought In the struggle one of the guardsman was seriously injured.
I've been imprisoned ever since.
How long? Eighty-three years.
Your penal system does NOT Fae around.
What about Hamish? I never saw him that night-- Or ever again.
I still don't know if it was the Dark Fae who betrayed us, or my own people.
BANG-BANG-BANG! They're here-- Here we go.
Kenz--? On it.
I am not afraid to die, but I have one final request: to know that Hamish is well.
And to see him, one last time.
Will you help me--? I will.
Thank you.
Bo! This is not Light Fae territory.
Get out.
Bo-- Stand down and wait outside.
I speak for The Blackthorn.
Feel free to complain to him if I leave you a throat.
What the hell is going on? You're outnumbered, Bo.
It's better for everyone if the girl just comes peacefully.
Uh except for HER.
I'm going to take her in myself, Kenz.
She'll be safe and well cared for until the hunt.
It's the Law.
He's right.
I said what I came to say.
You can't help me if you get yourself into some kind of trouble.
I don't even know your name! Sabine.
Where will you take her? The Ash's compound.
Thank you.
For still looking out for me.
You kinda sprung some big stuff on me! Trading in your feelings to save my life-- That's one messed-up love letter.
We need to talk.
Alone.
You owe me at least that.
We will.
Just not now.
Oh, good! You came! Bo The Undecided.
You know I'll be the envy of political pundits for years, just from this meeting.
Great.
Listen: your people abducted a guest from my house last night.
That's not okay.
Well, technically she was our prisoner.
Are you seriously going to hunt her down and kill her, for sport? Not sport! Ritual.
I'll never understand you people.
You slaughter your own kind, yet you call yourselves "Light" Fae.
Ahhh-- See, that, that right there is why some argue we need a rebranding.
Would you mind If I just borrowed you for a moment? Look-- Humans are food: we eat from them, or we die.
Now, the Dark Fae, they tend to kill for pleasure.
Not just need.
Show me the red-- And you Light are so much better? Well, we're more like your Native American hunters: we respect the kill, won't over hunt, don't eat the young.
And so what does that make me? An obnoxious vegan.
Well, thank you.
I take that as a compliment.
You would.
The Stag Hunt is a respected tradition.
Through their willing sacrifice, Stags' crimes are forgiven, returning honour to their family name.
It's really quite an equitable system.
Okay, wait, willing sacrifice? The Stag always volunteers.
If you had a chance to go out free and fighting, instead of rotting in a cell, wouldn't you take it? Look-- I, uh I don't want to get off on the wrong foot here.
And this isn't me asking you permission.
Because you and I both know I don't do that.
I'm listening? Sabine asked to speak to her old love as a sort of dying wish.
And I just thought you should know.
That I'm going to do that.
Well.
Now I know.
What's this? A little something to wear to tomorrow's gala.
Come, be my guest, see how civilized we can be.
Oh, and bring that bartender along-- He seems like he'd be fun.
Next time, ask him if he has Gucci too.
I'll just be happier when this Blackthorn guy leaves town, couture aside.
This whole Fae election thing is creeping me out.
Are you sure Hale gave us the right info for this Hamish dude? He's not answering his phone, and the files were hella old.
Well, maybe he's not home.
Hey, speaking of not home: would you give me some space Saturday night? Dyson agreed to come over and talk.
Ah.
Gotcha.
Operation "Woo" begins.
And what is your plan of attack? Cleavage.
That's about as far as I've gotten.
Honey, that's farther than some of us ever get.
Yes? Hi.
Hamish? Where did you get this address? We've been leaving you messages about Sabine.
You may not have gotten them.
I got 'em.
Oh-- Okay, good.
So you'll come with us to see her? I don't think so.
But thank you.
Clearly there's been some kind of communication error.
See, I'm talking about Sabine Purcell? The woman who spent the last eighty years in chains for wanting to be with you? Those were her actions, not mine.
I can't help you.
She just wants to say goodbye.
You loved her once.
Yeah, and I've had She should, too.
This is serious.
She's volunteered to be The Stag.
Whoa 'Eighty years to get over it', I'll give him eighty years of my foot up his ass! THAT'S the jackhole she's dying over--? Bo? Honey? I know you're a little sensi-tivo when it comes to, y'know, penis related rejections at the moment.
And I know you're probably going to be tempted to personalize this and-- Kenzi, this isn't about me.
I get that, okay? Cool.
So-- We're not going to get any more involved.
Right? Right.
Oh-- Except for the part where we're going to save Sabine's life now.
And not get caught doing it.
I wish I could quit yooou! Come on, let's go! Yes, Ma'am.
Okay, talk me through it.
What's the process for naming the new Ash? First, the potential candidates gather for the "Gyallahaal.
" Jake, or Maggie? It's a gala, in the Stag's honour.
But actually, it's the first competition, a test of political skill and cunning.
And those who survive it-- Survive it?? Receive enough votes-- Are deemed Contenders, and they compete in the Hunt.
And you know how the Hunt ends.
Not if Sabine makes it to the bell.
She'll be allowed to live, free and clear.
Bo, that never happens! The entire system is canted against it! Well, then we have to uncant it! Fast! There has to be a way that we can save Sabine, without breaking the rules and pissing off The Blackthorn.
I know I can get into the gala as his guest-- By the way, he wants you there, too-- He said that? But I still can't be part of the Hunt: I'm not Light Fae.
What about Dyson? No, there's not enough time.
You'd never make it through the vetting process.
At this point, it would have to be somebody of noble blood.
Well, you must know some old, noble family type we can exploit into helping us? Actually, we all do.
Who? Oh no no no-- Uh uh-- Not happening, Little Mamas.
Poseur! Why didn't you tell us your family was hooked up.
They're not "hooked up.
" They're old.
Old as in, old-money? stuffy and judgmental and generally disapproving of any non-traditional life I want to make for myself.
Okay? If I wanted to give my grandmama the satisfaction of getting into politics, I'd have done it decades ago.
Oh boo hoo! I'm sure you had it so rough, Lord Gutless of Nobsburg! Okay, maybe we just need to ask His Highness nicely? Oh, you're right! Perhaps in a manner befitting his station.
Yes! Please, sirrrr This is nice.
Yeah Seriously! You could help save a woman's life here.
And nobody is asking you to win, you just have to run.
Yeah, and losing could be like a whole new way to disappoint your family! Huh? Yeah, and I would really love to see you kissing hands and shaking babies.
Ha ha ha-- Well, joke's on you anyway, Cinderella -- No humans at this ball.
Now-- What's your brilliant plan? Bo: To save Sabine, we have to get you in the game.
Hopefuls for The Ash have this one event to curry favour, sabotage the competition, and win enough votes to enter the hunt.
And they'll use any means necessary, short of murder.
use your siren skills to charm votes, while I incapacitate your competition.
And Dyson will act as protection.
You're sure Dyson's coming? Don't worry: I talked to him.
He's cool.
He's in.
Dyson! Bo: The important thing is for us to work as a team.
Get in, get out.
Together.
Would you allow me to escort you in? Here we go.
Wearing the blue-- Baronet William Haley Francois Santiago: Clan Zamora.
Haley?? One more word, just one more, and I'll sing you to sleep and leave you in a corner.
So, the arm bands identify the competitors, but what are those? Gias.
It's the stone you use to cast your vote.
Real modern system you got here.
Exactly -- old people like old shit.
Excuse me.
Oh, uh-- Pardon me.
No, no, no.
It's my fault.
I hope you won't hold my clumsiness against me when you cast your vote.
You, uh, you good on your own? What'd he say? I'd say Mr.
Green Arm Band there is my first target.
And the Cougar-- And Grampa, and uh, Mr.
Big I'll try to take them out of competition.
The other two contenders shouldn't get much support.
You work the room and score some votes.
Let's rock out with our frocks out.
Pleasure-- Thank you.
You look stunning.
And who's your tailor? Enjoy.
Excuse us, please? Well, hello.
Hi.
I, um I've been watching you.
I've noticed.
I think you might want to go home now.
Forget all about this silly little election.
You know, I think you overestimate your talents.
Mind you Those are some talents.
I agree, the pension system is woefully inadequate.
That's why, as The Ash, I would.
double the payouts for anyone over nine centuries old.
Though you don't look a decade over six-fifty.
For you, Sir.
Huh.
Mmmhmm.
My man.
Still got it, dammit.
Nice.
Hi.
Hi.
It's good to see you.
It's good to see you, too.
Dyson-- We have to talk.
So-- for the rest of your lives? I don't know what to say to her.
I warned you about the Norn.
About the Ancients and their trickery.
I'm a big boy, Trick.
I knew what I was getting into.
Then why punish her for something you chose to do freely? That's not like you, Dyson.
Well, I'm not exactly "me" anymore, am I? That's the point.
You're the one that didn't want us together.
And now that that's permanent, I'd say you've lost your right to complain.
Tsk-tsk-tsk-tsk-- Awww, the younger generation.
So lippy these days.
Some of us are born lippy.
Ah.
Like your little protege, Bo, there? Quite the firebrand, by all accounts.
But then, I hear she takes after her mother.
Aife.
You need to work on your poker face, my friend.
Hamish-- Is he here? No.
Good news, though: he's alive.
And free.
He didn't want to see me.
I tried.
I am so sorry.
Sabine, is it possible that Hamish was your betrayer? No.
It's not.
How can you be sure? Have you ever been in love with someone who loved you with everything he had? Yeah, once.
Apparently.
Then you understand.
When you've been loved like that, you know.
You feel it.
Look, Sabine, I couldn't bring you Hamish, but I brought you something better: a chance.
My friends and I, we're going to help you during the Hunt.
Help me how? To win by their own rules.
We'll get you to the end of the woods alive and you'll win your freedom.
Freedom to what? To wander alone in a world I haven't lived in for 80 years? And risk all your lives in the--? Sabine-- Thank you.
You've been good to me.
But not every story has a happy ending.
CRASH! Dumb-ass! I can see auras.
And yours is totally hot for Sabine.
What do you want from me?? For starters? Admit that you love her.
What?? Fine! I love her, I love her, okay! She's the only one I've ever loved.
Then why did you betray her? I didn't! But I might as well have.
You know, my family-- They're not good people, do you understand? They found out about us and they were furious that I'd jeopardize the family name! So they tipped off the Light Fae.
I tried for years to figure out some way to help Sabine.
Years.
But what could I do? I'm Dark Fae.
Even now, all I can do is glimpse her from afar.
There is something you can do.
Come with me to the hunt.
Help me save her.
No-- I don't want to get her hopes up.
It's best I just let her be.
If you really love her-- You'd fight for her.
Congratulations.
You, the final three, have proven yourselves worthy Contenders.
The rules today are simple: You may use sanctioned weapons only.
You may not kill one another.
The Stag has been provided with the hidden location of the hidden bell.
If she finds it, rings it, you are all disqualified.
Let the hunt begin.
I'm here to help.
Do you trust me? Yeah-- Let's find this bell.
Okay-- There it is.
Now, if Sabine can just make it here in one piece and ring it.
At least no one else has found it, good sign.
There-- Don't stop.
You've got to run.
Thank you.
No! No, no, no! SABINE! RUN!!! Go, go, go!!! Ugh! Sabine! She's dead.
If you'll leave the fallen to us? As I told you: we aren't monsters.
Tend to her burial as you wish.
Meanwhile: it looks like we have ourselves a new Ash to crown.
You're the Succubus, aren't you? The one that does as she pleases.
Well, not anymore.
Clear.
How's the wound? It's just soft tissue damage.
I tried to spin her out of the arrow's path as best I could-- You fought for her.
Let the doctor do the rest.
You did well.
If it'd hit the heart, we'd have no hope.
The problem will be the poison.
But we prepared for that.
Hamish-- You came.
Just eighty-three years late.
Oh-- I knew you'd come.
Thank you.
I guess science kicks the crap out of tradition, huh? Hi.
Bo, I-- Wait-- Just Just let me say a few things.
Thank you.
For taking such a risk to protect me.
And Wow, this is overdue-- I'm sorry.
Until recently I've been kind of stubborn.
And blind about how good we were together.
So-- Here's to starting over.
If you'll let me.
This is my fault-- I obviously wasn't as clear as I should have been.
I told you once that wolves mate for life.
Well, I gave that love to you.
And I don't regret it.
But, the Norn took it.
I know, I know-- Big, fat, crazy Norn.
Well, since when do we let strangers control our lives, Dyson? Since when is that you? Since it's the price I needed to pay to save your life.
And I'm grateful for that.
I am.
But she made you stop feeling what we had, Dyson.
She didn't make me.
I just-- I just want to try again.
I don't.
Please-- Dyson, that is not you talking! I can make you, you know.
I can make you love me.
I'm sorry.
I'm so sorry.
No, I'm sorry.
Bo, the last thing I wanted to do was hurt you.
But you've got to move on.
Because I already have.
Well, I think that all went quite nicely all things considered.
Don't you? I'm sure the experience provided you with some valuable insights about Bo.
And who among us protect her.
Really? I suppose you're right.
Still, it was all very clever.
Nothing in the rules about bringing the Stag back from the dead.
Obvious question: after eighty years in prison, how did the Stag even know who Bo was, let alone where to find her? I may have had something mentioned to the girl in passing, and enabled her escape.
Who remembers? Well, I still find it hard to believe you traveled all this way-- just for a swearing in ceremony, or for a closer look at Bo.
Oh There may have been rumours, tweaking certain higher ears that you may not be Fitzpatrick, simple barkeep at all.
That you may in fact be, the Blood King.
I would be happy for those rumours to cease.
It's the stuff of fairytales.
Of course, of course.
Although IF it were true, I can tell you the Council would find it hard to believe you're satisfied with the underwhelming challenge of tavern- keeper.
It's more of a gastropub, really.
You may assure the High Council that I have no pretensions towards power.
I'm sure they'll be pleased to hear that.
So long as there are no more efforts to locate Aife.
So Aife did resurface.
And she's the mother of this Bo, then? I can't speak to those.
But, I imagine I would find my continued retirement more "attractive", if the Council were to agree to this friendly request.
I'll be sure to mention it to them upon my return.
And may I say, what an honour it has been? Bartender, my ass.
Well-- That was supposed to be a lot more epic.
Thunder bolts were supposed to go off.
Music was supposed to play.
Nakedness-- There was supposed to be nakedness.
Didn't happen, huh? Mostly I just kind of made an asshat out of myself, for nothing.
Shut up.
You did not.
It's really over.
For good this time.
I just-- I can't understand why he doesn't want to fight for us.
I think it's The Tim Effect.
Who's Tim? First guy I ever lurrved.
Until I found him with another girl.
Lurrving her from behind.
What happened? Eventually, I was ready to forgive him to move on: mentally.
But my heart would not fricking listen.
I remembered how great we were.
I missed it.
But, I just couldn't get myself to feel it again, even if I tried.
I think that's what the Norn did to Dyson.
That's the kinda whammy she put on Dyson's heart when he thinks of you.
Except I didn't do anything wrong.
I know.
I know.
You know what the irony is here? I'm a freaking Succubus.
I can make any man want me.
But I can't make this one man love me.
Do you want me to beat the snot out of him--? I totally will.
He's so girly about that beard, I need to mess it up a little bit.
Whatever he did, Kenzi he did it for me.
He needs us to be just friends: I gotta tell him I'm okay with that.
So you're gonna lie.
Damn right.
Good luck with that.
Another pint-- Vanilla this time.
I know.