She sniffled. "He is in coma." Or maybe he was out of it by now. Who knew? "I was raised to be secret agent. To kill for Soviet Socialist Republics." Never mind she was born three years after the USSR broke up.

A sudden flashback of Kenzi in a Natasha outfit, shooting people in the snow, then blowing smoke off her gun.

...right, Kenzi blinked as that faded and said, "I need help! How do you rezissst?" She turned her hand to trace his fingers, pouting and looking up at him hopefully. "You can show me, da?" Damn, priests should not be this hot if they didn't want offers.

"Zank you, Father," Kenzi said, one perfect tear trailing down her cheek. "I know with your help, I vill feel so much... cleaner. Better." She moved to embrace him. Hugs for people not wearing that much black leather and pressing quite that close to muscled priest's outfits. Or trailing hands up and down.

Vessel of what? Were they hitting every cliche'? Ahem.

Kenzi writhed a little like a cat getting comfy on a warm couch, and sighed heavily, chest heaving in the shiny black leather. "Can we start now? I want to be saved. To be filled with... light."

The actress was smothering a grin in his shoulder, trying to make it Kenzi's evil one and pretty much succeeding. Would nibbling on his neck be crossing the line yet?

Kenzi's actor coughed to smother the laugh at that question, and turned it into a sniff of distress.

Or no legs? That would be a shame. They were damn nice legs.

"I feel it already, Father." While trying very very hard to look soulful and not like she was about to crack up at this dialogue. She gave Seifer's actor the Groucho Marx eyebrows when the camera wasn't on her, then turned to kiss his fingers, eyelashes fluttering. "I am so, so grateful. How can Kenzi show you what ziss means to her?"

Kenzi leaned in to whisper against his ear, too low for the pick up, "Pull this off and we can find a closet to make this worth getting through afterward. C'mooon." Any innuendo and breathiness intended.

"Love!" she declaimed. Hating the scriptwriters. Hating. Them. "I espress love with everything in me!" Yeah, no pulling away there, Father. Have another undulation. "But you have to shooooooow me," she moaned, leaning into his neck. "Somevhere we can pray together? Yes? For a very long time? I haf much to make up for!"

Kenzi thought that was a pretty awesome idea, on one metaphysical level.

On another metaphysical level, Kenzi's actress was realizing there was no way she was kneeling in that outfit. No. Way. She'd like to, but it just wasn't possible. Sooo... how to make it work...?

Oh, duh.

Kenzi started to wobble down to her knees, then fell over, not even having to fake clumsiness, and gasped as she fell onto the good Father. Yay, warm muscles! "I am sorry! Are you okay, Father? Forgive me, I dressed for penance."

Still better than the script!

Well, since the boyfriend in question was in a coma, Kenzi would have to make up her sins to God through his priest. Or something.

Look, it was a valid anthropological theory, as Kenzi's actress could explain. Juilliard arts scholarship, bitches.

Kenzi rolled off Siefer with some reluctance, then did a shimmy to her feet in order to avoid cutting herself in half with the dress, and took another huge heaving breath of relief. "Show me, Father. I am here to be instructed. I hear and obey." She held out a hand to help him up, kind of like Eve and the apple. Or Jessica Rabbit and Roger. "This way to paradise. Da?"

Wicked evil Kenzi smile. Closet! mouthed the actress toward Siefer's actor.

Kenzi draped herself over the arm and gave him an under-the-eyelashes look. "Be patient. I haf much to learn. Zis may take... some time," she said, opening the door, and trailing fingers up his arm, to his neck, pulling him closer. "Now, zen. A kiss of peace...."

Woo-hoo, and they were out, trailer, here they came! And the director would've stopped them if he hated the dialogue, they were safe! SAAAAFE!