“Lost Girl” Recap (3.12): She poisoned him with science

Under normal circumstances – those being any circumstance that does not involve a megalomaniac scientist intent on dominating a secret ancient race of supernatural beings who has kidnapped your unwitting not-an-ex, just-on-a-break girlfriend because of her breakthrough biochemical research – I would say don’t break into your girlfriend’s apartment after she specifically asks you for space. But, luckily for Bo, these are not those circumstances. Though bringing your ex to help you save your maybe-not-quite ex is, um, an interesting touch.

So Bo breaks in with Dyson in tow only to find an empty apartment and Lauren’s Blackberry. Yeah, I know – I have no idea why anyone would leave her cellphone at home. I left mine there one day last week accidentally and I felt like I was missing my left arm all day at work. Shut up, it’s not an addiction. I can quit anytime I want.

Right, where was I? Bo is worried about Lauren’s disappearing act, but wolves have problems, too. Fae mass graves, Hale’s inauguration. So Dyson says he doesn’t have time to play “relationship detective.” He says that now, but you’d better believe in about 30 minutes he’s going to wish like hell he had dropped everything to play “relationship detective.” Bo says they’re just on a break, but then sighs that even she doesn’t believe that anymore. Do you believe in Doccubus? Then clap your hands, everyone. Clap your hands, Tinkerbelles, clap your hands.

Proud Ash-maker Trick is setting up for Hale’s inauguration. He’s puffed up about his protégé’s ascension. Can we take a moment to discuss Fae traditions and rituals? Why am I asking, I’m driving this boat. We’re doing it. So remember the last time they picked a new ash and there was the big ceremonial gala and then the stag hunt? Did I miss the hunt? Was there an amendment to the rules I was unaware of? Just checking.

Kenzi is helping set up, which mostly consists of poorly folding napkins and complaining about how much of a dick Hale is. As if drawn to the sarcasm, in sashays the Morrigan. Soak it in, you know you’ve missed her fabulosity. On cue she says something fabulous like, “Do the Light always hold their inaugurations in a steak house?” Darling, it’s not even a steakhouse. It’s just a bar.

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