Chapter Text
Somewhere in a pocket universe…
An assortment of goddesses and divine females from various pantheons had gathered for one of their periodic evenings of booze, bitching, and gossip.
The Wolf Spirit, nursing a cup of mead in a shadowy corner, was disconcerted when Bastet slunk up and settled next to her in a cloud of barley beer and exotic spices that made the Wolf want to sneeze. The little cat goddess tended to avoid other predators, especially those of the canid persuasion. She clearly had something on her mind, and the Wolf Spirit braced herself for a possible confrontation.
“So, that pup of yours, the one they call Dyson Thornwood,” Bastet said, foregoing small talk. “He sure is going through some shit lately, isn’t he?”
“He’s a good boy,” said the Wolf Spirit defensively. “A good wolf. A little slow on the uptake sometimes, but he means well. He has a strong, brave heart.”
“Mmm. Good thing he’s pretty too,” said Bastet. “But he’s been awfully careless with that heart—as well as with other people’s.”
“You mean that succubus? I do so wish she’d release her thrall over him. She’s a magnificent creature but she was never meant for one like him.”
“I was thinking more of her companion, the girl with the lovely eyeliner and hair, and all the made-up names that I can never remember.”
“That little scrap?” laughed the Wolf Spirit.
Bastet gave her a sharp look. “Have you paid any attention to her at all, or are you as thick as your pup?”
The Wolf Spirit curled her lip to show a bit of fang and gave a low growl. Bastet reflexively hissed back, then groomed her hair with claw-tipped hands in a visible effort to relax.
“Pax, bitch. Just think about it. How many times has ‘that little scrap’ saved your pup’s ass?”
The Wolf Spirit cocked her head and gazed into the past. “Oh, you do have a point.” Then she chuffed with laughter. “That trick with the chainsaw and the Norn was ballad-worthy, wasn’t it?”
“Just admit it, wolfie. She may look like a kitten, but she has the heart of a lioness. And she has that heart set on Dyson Thornwood. Your pup could do far worse when it comes to a…well, let’s go with ‘girlfriend’ for now.”
“But she’s a mortal. She’ll just die and leave my poor pup worse off than before.”
“Bitch, please. I’m a cat goddess, and I have far more than nine lives to bestow on whoever I want. C’mon, let’s reroute some shitty fate lines. Do a little meddling in our darlings’ lives—just as a treat?”
*****
Meanwhile, on Earth…
Dyson accepted a much-needed tumbler of whisky from Trick and turned to scan the pub to see who else was at the Dal Riata tonight. His eyes were quickly drawn to the other side of the room, where Kenzi and Bo sat knee-to-knee on a sofa, engaged in what looked like an intense conversation.
After a few minutes the pair fell into helpless giggles; then Bo sobered, nodded decisively and leaned forward to kiss Kenzi on the forehead, as if in blessing. Kenzi smiled radiantly, and then the women turned their heads in tandem and looked directly at him. Their eyes caught the light around them and shone in a most peculiar way. Something that tasted of magic, a distinctly female flavored magic, shivered in the air, several shitty fate lines sighed dramatically and altered themselves, and the hair on the back of Dyson’s neck stood up.