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Partners In Crime (And Jam)

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“Has anyone seen that mystical dagger thingie from Dyson?”

“Dagger?” Hale says, licking jam off his fingers. “Can’t say that I have. Nope.

“You should probably be more specific,” Kenzi advises wisely.

“More specific than ‘mystical dagger thingie from Dyson’?” Bo frowns a frown of bewilderment that could either lead to very good or very bad things. It’s all in how they play it from here on out. “It’s not like we have a bunch just lying around—”

“You mean this?” Kenzi says, brightly and helpfully, and holds up—

“That is a butter knife,” Bo says.

Is it, though?” Kenzi ponders.

“It’s a good thing you know where the butter knife is,” Hale says. “Otherwise, you might have used Bo’s mystical dagger thingie from Dyson to put jam on toast. And melted it. And by ‘it,’ I mean the dagger. The toast was fine. In this hypothetical situation.”

“Dude!” Kenzi yelps.

“Oops,” Hale says innocently.

“Way to go, Detective Shitbrains,” Kenzi says, and smacks him right on the hat.

“Whoa. Easy there, you little freak-ermine!”

Ermine? Really? No, wait, let me do that again: re-e-e-e-e-e-EALLY?”

Hale ticks off his reasons on his newly jam-free fingers. “Cute. Tiny. If provoked, will eat your face.”

“Well, fine,” Kenzi admits grudgingly, “that is pretty cool. And now I kind of want one as a pet. But don’t think your rodent compliments can make this better. That toast was for you, asshole!”

“And it was really good,” Hale says earnestly.

Okay: she’s not made of stone. “What can I say? Home girl knows her way around a toaster.”

“Request to pound it?”

Kenzi contemplates his worthiness.

“Granted,” she says daintily, and holds out her fist.

While she and Hale fist bump secret handshake it up, Bo takes the melty, jam-stained remains of what was once a perfectly good mystical dagger thingie out of the sink and stares sadly at it.

“We could have had it all,” she laments.

“Stabbing in the deep?” Kenzi suggests sympathetically.

“Personally,” Hale says, “I think you’re better off without a mystical dagger that melted in the face of jam.”

“Perspective,” Kenzi says. “Solid.

That calls for another fist bump.

“Ugh. Why can’t you guys hang out at Hale’s house?” grumpy Bo says.

“And have her melting my mystical daggers all over the place?” Hale says, grinning at Kenzi. “No way.”

“The love!” Kenzi trills, “’tis overwhelming!”, and fake-swoons out of her chair.