The sound of the alarm clock is what she hears first. It's incessant blaring from her night stand keeps going and going, and she contemplates shooting it with the gun underneath her pillow. But then she notices that she can hear the hammering away of the construction down the street, which isn't supposed to happen until after 7 AM. Her first instinct is to march down to the construction site, lay into the workers for starting early, and then flash her gun and badge for good measure.

But these thoughts come to a whirling halt when she feels the rays of sunlight on her face. Opening one eye a crack, she can see through her curtains that it is in fact sunny outside. And unless the sun got up earlier today, she is... "Late! Shit, shit, damn."

Kensi Blye is up, twisting out of her sheets before both her eyes are even open. I slept through my alarm? How the hell did that happen? But then flashes of the night before sweep over her, and she groans, because she knows exactly how it happened.

Shooting pool with the guys. Deeks challenging her to quarters. Beating Sam fair and square, then Callen bowing out. Deeks triumphant grin when she starts to feel woozy, but still continues to swallow every shot, each one burning less and less. Last call from the bartender, and an agreement from both parties to finish another time. Stumbling out of the bar, leaning on Deeks, unfortunately. He puts her in a cab, gives the driver her address, and pays. She watches through the window as he twirls his keys around his fingers, and she's mildly concerned that he'll drive, but he just keeps on walking, past the parking lot, towards his apartment a few blocks down.

She groans. Now he has one more thing to tease about!

She starts to head towards her shower, but then notices the alarm still blaring away. She gives it a glare, as if to say 'How could you let me over-sleep?' and turns it off. That's when she notices that it is a quarter past seven already, and she was due in nearly thirty minutes ago. She contemplates going into work without showering, but she's still in last night's clothes, and she smells like vodka and salt and lemon. Sighing, she realizes she's gonna be even later. The price of being clean, unlike Deeks, who probably rolled right in...

Okay, let's not ruin the rest of the morning with thoughts of my frustrating, cocky partner.

She's rushing in the door, her hair still damp, her face with the bare minimal of make-up when she hears the voices of her team arguing over something.

"There is no way that song is LSD, okay? You have no idea what you're talking about!" she hears Sam's voice ring out.

"Dude, have you ever even listened to that song? It's a freaking trip, all the way through it. You get a contact high just listening to it!" Deeks argues back, lightheartedly.

She's doing her best to get to her desk without them noticing her newly arrived presence, but then Callen's voice calls out, "Oh, Miss Sleeping Beauty. Thank you for finally gracing us with your presence." He's grinning his sideways smirk, and she can't help but smirk back, before turning to the rest of them, as she gets herself situated at her seat.

"Too much party last night, Blye?" Deeks eyebrows crook up, and he's grinning at her in that way that makes her stomach feel like its in a washing machine.

She sticks her tongue out at him, childishly she admits, and then she grumbles, "I slept through my alarm."

Deeks just winks at her, and then Callen and Sam continue what ever conversation they were having previously. She ignores Deeks curious stare, and asks, "What are you all going on about?"

"The song 'Lucy In The Sky With Diamonds' by the Beatles. Or perhaps, every song they ever wrote," Callen answers. "That song is obviously about LSD. Think about the first letters- Lucy, Sky, Diamonds, LSD! Come on, Sam. Think about it!"

She shakes her head, chuckling to herself. "Personally, I always thought 'Because' was a lot more trippy than that one. But, that might just be me."

Sam's looking at her quizzically, and then Callen laughs, "You like the Beatles?"

Deeks is sitting there balancing a pencil on his pointer finger, and she knocks it over before she answers, "Of course. Nothing like a beer and the Beatles after a long day. They were my dad's favorite..." she trails off. She smiles, not altogether sadly, and then she's grinning at Deeks, who's trying to balance his pencil again. He gets it pretty straight, and then he sticks out his tongue at her this time. She just laughs, then before they can continue the conversation of songs all about drugs, Eric's signature whistle echoes down to them.

"Time for another meeting of the Justice League," Deeks jokes under his breath, and he's just close enough that she wonders if it was for her benefit.

"Comic books? Never took you for the type, Deeks," she teases.

"Graphic novels," he corrects instantly, but then he's ducking his head in embarrassment, and he has a silly grin on his face. "All I cared about as a kid actually. That and Star Wars, for some reason."

She just shakes her head, and then she smiles when she's already turned toward the stairs, so he can't see. She turns her head a fraction, and throws back nonchalantly, "Who was your favorite?"

He's admiring her legs and backside as she takes every step, so he's slow to reply. "The Green Lantern." She knows what he's doing, so when she gets to the top, she stops abruptly, and he's forced to run into her.

"Hmm... I was always a Batman kind-of-girl. Something about the tall, dark, and handsome." She's looking him up and down as she says this, her eyes approving, teasing, and then she adds, "Two out of three ain't bad, Deeks." And then she turns before he can reply.

He's grinning at her remark, but then he catches himself when he realizes she said two out of three. "Wait! Which two am I?" But she's grinning and already half way to the meeting room before he seems to find his ability to walk again.

"So, are there any questions about this assignment?" Hetty asks, looking around the dimly-lit room, the lights from the screen playing across her face.

Kensi manages a small cough before raising her hand, almost timidly. "Allow me to get this straight. You want me, and-and, Deeks, to go under cover in Hollywood as a married Producer-team. To figure out, if in fact, a retired Navy officer sells cocaine at charity auctions?" She glares at Eric, who proposed the idea for the undercover, and then says, "Did I miss anything?"

Hetty chuckles dryly, then grins at Kensi, who has slowly been inching away from a gleeful Deeks. "That's about it. Eric will have your identifications ready in a few hours, so you should go pack your bags now. I've secured an apartment for the two of you already. So let's meet back here in two hours."

She looks around her with a face of apprehension, and she glares at Callen and Sam's grins that they're trying to hide, winces at Nell, who is smiling encouragingly, and then finally rests on Deeks, who is grinning like the Cheshire cat. He's slightly rocking back and forth on the balls of his heels, and she wants to punch him, right there.

Before she can, though, he says in a serious tone, "Let's go pack your bags, dear. We've got to get ready for the party this evening."

Who knew her day could have gone from bad to worse so fast?

She's packing her over-night things, while simultaneously trying to watch Deeks, who's entirely too interested in the top of her dresser, covered in perfumes and jewelry. He turns on his heel, leaning back on the piece of furniture, and his head is cocked to the side. "Never took you for the jewelry and perfume type," he says, and she sighs, when he nearly knocks over the Chanel Number Five.

"I wear light perfume for work, okay? And the rest is for when I... go out," she finishes lamely, and then he's looking at her with that curious look again, the one that makes her think he wants to know her every dark secret. Like she's a puzzle he just can't figure out.

Then his gaze turns light-hearted again, and he remarks, "Well, then by all means, bring the most expensive one you have. Best to play the part, you know?"

She just shakes her head again, and reaches for the Chanel. She stuffs the perfume in its original box down into her somewhat large leather bag, the one she uses for her carry-on when, and if, she ever flies. Then she zips it up, looking around her medium-sized apartment, hoping Deeks doesn't notice her unkempt bed and laundry hamper in the corner, and says goodbye silently. Then he's waiting at her bedroom door with his grin, and she squares her shoulders, ready for whatever comment he's about to make.

"Now, on to my apartment. I always knew I'd get you there with some undergarments in tow," he wiggles his eyebrows suggestively, and his cocky grin accompanies, as he's pulling open her front door.

Ah, there it is.

Before she knows it, she's slurping down as much Starbucks as she can while Hetty is appraising one of the dresses she's trying on. Again, Hetty shakes her head, no, this isn't the one. "Next, Kensi."

She sighs, sets down her coffee cup, and lifts the long train of the elegant, yet oddly-colored, peach frock. Before she makes it back to the small dressing room of the headquarters, she hears a wolf whistle, and she cringes before she turns.

"Now that color makes me think of prom, circa '89. What do you think, Callen?" Deeks is laughing at her, and then Callen and Sam are not far behind when they crack up at the color.

"It looks like someone threw up on you!" Callen breathes out between loud guffaws, and even Sam is cracking up at the dress. She tells herself not to blush, and only looks at Hetty, who is distracted by a fedora hat. She flips all of them off, smiles all lady-like, and then turns around.

Before she can question herself, she shakes her hips a bit as she walks away, and all the boys wolf-whistle again, and then she's laughing at the situation, anyway. "Eat your hearts out, boys," she uses her best alluring voice, just before she shuts herself back in the almost too-small dressing room.

She still hears laughter as she unzips the hideous dress and steps out of it. Then she actually fully blushes when she hears, "Need some help with the zipper, there Blye?"

Deeks. She narrows her eyes, knowing that Hetty would not have allowed such talk, so she's fairly certain that their boss must have walked away.

"Oh, definitely. If you see a man walk by, let me know."

Laughter barrels out from Callen and Sam, and she hears Deeks sputter a bit before recovering. "Don't be mistaken, honey. I'm all man."

Her new dress is on, and she unlocks the door and steps out as she fires back, "Could have fooled me." She's smirking, but then when she faces the rest of her team, they're all staring at her like she's grown a third arm. "What?"

She looks down at the simple Little Black Dress. What's wrong with it? I like it!

Callen is the first to cough and indicate the mirror to her left. So she turns to it, and she notices first that she doesn't look like herself, really. Her somewhat boyish curves are now accentuated into all female, and it hugs in all the right places. Strapless, her shoulders look muscular, but still lean and almost elegant. Her chest is covered, but the tiny triangular slit at the top of the dress hints at a full bosom. The dress comes to just at her knees, and it feels like silk. She spins around half way to look at her backside, and she grins that she actually looks and feels... hot. Beautiful, maybe.

Her long, nearly unruly curls are piled on top her head in a messy bun, so its not hard to imagine them swept up in a loose coiffure, and she pictures her make up done, her eyes glowing, a little jewelry, some strappy heels. And then she's actually looking forward to the night with Deeks, much to her surprise.

Then she turns back to the boys, who all have composed themselves. Except, Deeks still looks like he has to diffuse a bomb. "You like?" she teases, knowing full well that this dress was made for her, completely.

Sam nods, then says, "You look gorgeous, Kens. Really." He smiles widely, and she smiles back at her friend. Then Callen nods too, but he just grounds out, "Don't let anyone... bother you tonight." He looks pointedly at Deeks, then he says, almost nonchalantly, "Don't let anyone near her, or there will be, you know, hell." Then Sam pulls at Callen's shoulder slightly, and the two are walking off. Before she knows it, Deeks has stepped up onto the little platform and is barely a foot from her. He's looking at her again, in that way that makes her stomach do somersaults.

"You look... nice, Kensi," he half-whispers. She's surprised at his use of her first name, but she doesn't let it show.

He looks like he wants to say something else, but then Hetty's voice rings out across the commons, "That's the one! You look marvelous, Agent Blye."

And then he's stepping back, and she can't begin to explain why she wishes they hadn't been interrupted.

She's nervous, pacing back and forth in the small apartment a few blocks from the Charity Auction where the suspect will be. They're using the building as the eyes of the operation, because from the rooftop they can see directly into the grand gardens of the rich owner's mansion. She growls under her breath, and then stops in her tracks when the door opens, and Callen and Sam walk in, dressed in plain-clothes.

Her bare feet are cold, so she continues to pace. "Where the hell is he? How could he be late to his own operation? I just don't understand his insane need to make a fashionably late entrance. It's frustrating!" she complains. But before Callen or Sam can try to tell her that Deeks is right behind them, he walks in, full of swagger.

She starts to open her mouth to berate him, but then catches sight of what he's wearing. "Oh," pops out before she can stop it. The suit he's wearing is tailored perfectly to his wide shoulders, and accentuate his slim hips and falls perfectly on his person. His suit pants are perfectly pressed, and give hint to the muscles underneath, something you couldn't always tell when he wore his signature baggy jeans. Tucked in his front pocket of his jacket is a silver handkerchief, and his silver vest matches the color perfectly. His dress shoes are shined, and his hair is gelled back slightly. For once, he's clean-shaven, and his eyes are laughing as he obviously notices her gawking at him. He looks... good, she allows herself begrudgingly.

"Oh?" he repeats, chuckling. "Like what you see?"

"I... I just, well- I never knew you owned a razor. Or hair product. Or even knew anything about personal grooming, really. It's a surprise," she says, dripping with sarcasm.

He doesn't bat an eye, only gestures to her person. "You look like a girl. So I guess, we're even." Then she's shooting him evil glares, and then he just chuckles at her. "Let's get this show on the road then, yeah?" He directs it to Sam and Callen, who are silently watching the exchange.

Sam answers, "Sure. You both have on your cameras and mics?"

Kensi adjusts the golden broach on her shawl, nodding. Deeks taps the golden pin on his tie, curtly nodding as well.

"But, wait! Mustn't forget the Missuses ring." And then he steps forward with the simple platinum band and solitary diamond ring in his hand, and she holds out her hand palm side up to take it from him. But he shakes his head, and her hand falls slack in confusion, her eyes questioning. But he grabs her hand, and before she can protest, he's slid the ring onto her ring finger, fitting it snugly on.

"Thanks," she says dryly, her eyes rolling, but her heartbeat quickens despite her attempt at acting like it didn't bother her. Like it was perfectly fine for her partner to look at her with a kind smile and his eyes, which she couldn't read, looking at her that way, as he slid a ring on her finger. Sure, no biggie.

He pats her hand, which still rested in his, and then he lets go. "Alright, my little woman! Let's go party and catch some bad guys," he jokes, and he holds out his arm for her to take. She rolls her eyes again, but she chuckles along with him, and she tucks her hand in the crook of his arm securely. Making sure her silver-silk shawl is secure, she slides into her heels with no assistance, and the two perform a mic check for Sam and Callen.

Everything ready to go, she grabs her small purse (with a small handgun inside, of course) and marches through the door, Deeks allowing her through first, and then he grabs her arm again.

And we're off.

She's lounging in one of the corners, her heels kicked off, hidden under the table cloth that hangs down to the ground. She pretends to check her red lipstick in her compact, while subtly checking out the room. Couples are twirling around the dance floor, and she searches faces, trying to pinpoint any of the men from the photo of the retired Naval officer they suspect. But no such luck, and according to what Callen had told her already through her ear piece, they hadn't noticed anyone fitting his description entering the front gates. Deeks had left her a few minutes ago, under the guise of getting her champagne, but actually doing a perimeter sweep.

She didn't expect him back for awhile, so when she heard a voice from behind her, she jumped slightly, reaching for her small clutch. "Hello, there."

But then a chair is sliding out, and a stranger is sitting down beside her. So she holds her purse closer to her under the table, while remaining calm on the outside. She turns her shawl that is resting on the table so the broach is facing the new man, and she hears Callen say, "Just a little to the left," so she turns it a bit more. He says, "Okay, good."

She smiles at the man only seconds after he sits down, and replies politely, "Hello."

"What is a gorgeous woman like yourself doing here alone?" he asks smoothly, and she looks over his features. He would be extremely good-looking, if the way he sat didn't set off every alarm in her head. He sat like he owned the chair, the table, the room. Like he wanted to own her. But she kept herself calm, only smiling again, though a bit more strained this time.

"I'm not quite alone, my husband is getting drinks," she says simply, but not rudely.

"Quite, you say? No, I would suppose not. You aren't alone at all, are you?" he leans in close as he says this, and his tone has become slightly menacing, and shivers are rolling down her back, and again the alarms in her head are ringing louder, and Callen's voice is saying, "I don't like this guy, he's too shady. Get yourself out of there."

"I'm sorry, I really should go find my husband, he always seems to be getting lost at these things," she smiles tightly, her voice unwavering.

She's already beginning to move her chair back to get up, but then his arm is swooping around the back of it, and she can't move the chair anymore. She pushes with her legs, but he's strong, and his grip doesn't release. Through clenched teeth, she says, "I think you should let me leave, sir."

Then before she knows what's happening he's taken his empty champagne flute, and grinds it on her broach, on the camera. The crackle of technology can not be mistaken in their little corner, surrounded by other empty tables, loud jazz competing with the sounds of conversation. "Kensi! Get out of there, NOW. I can't see you. Where's Deeks! Deeks, get to Kensi NOW!" she hears in her left ear.

"The eyes," he says simply, as if he had said mustard or nail polish.

Then he's looking at her with a look of triumph, eying her face. Kensi's face is grim, and she's looking all around, trying to figure out how to get out her weapon and take him out, while not alerting the crowd. But she knows she doesn't have a silencer on this small handgun. She mildly notices the yelling of Callen in her head, her every sense on alert, her muscles ready to hit and run. Then he's touching her face, his hands cold, and she flinches when his finger tips run down the side of her face. "The ears," he murmurs.

And he rips out her ear wig, with no noise or warning. She winces in slight pain, and then he drops it to the floor, grinds it with his foot, and looks back at her.

"If you would like to get out of here without causing mass chaos with these innocent bystanders, then you'll grab your cover and purse, and come with me. Do you understand?" his voice is calm, and he's searching the room, before his eyes fall on her face again at the question at the end. His face is less than half a foot from hers, and she contemplates a head butt, or an elbow to the face, but then she thinks of the size of the room, how many people were inside, and not knowing who she was facing.

It would be beneficial to her if she saw this through. So she nodded shortly, grabbed her things, purposefully leaving her shoes under the table, in case she had to run. She could only hope when she was free of the party, she could grab her handgun and show him she wasn't just a girl, but a fighter. Like she'd always been.

With a few thoughts of where in the world Deeks could be, she let the man lead her through an almost-hidden side door, with one last glance at the twirling people, blissfully ignorant.

She never gets the chance to defend herself, because as soon as he leads her outside, he's shoving her into the back of a white van, the windows blacked out, and he takes her purse from her as soon as she can sit up. He growls when she tries to tell him that she has friends in high places who wouldn't like this, and then he slams the door. The cold, metal floor of the van chills her to the bone, or is it the fact that she was just kidnapped from a party, minutes after her partner left her?

Whoever this man was, he had watched them, pounced on her the moment she was alone. She feared for Deeks, thinking that maybe he'd already been caught. But her fears were quelled when the doors of the back were thrown open again, and Deeks was shoved in the back, knocking her down to the cold floor again, she pushed him out of the way to reach for the doors, but they'd already been slammed closed before she had a chance.

"Sonofabitch," she growled. She turned to demand from her partner how they had got both of them, but when Deeks didn't move from his spot, her eyes grew wide. Then she saw blood flowing from his lip, and she reached for his head. But he groaned a moment later, and her heart started up again, and she jerked her hand from his soft hair.

Soft hair? What the fuck?

"Damn it, Blye. Why didn't you shoot the man?" he practically shouted at her.

"Excuse me! I was in a room full of people! What was your excuse?" she yelled back.

"He... hit me from behind. As I was checking out the men's room, looking for that guy. Johnson or something. Then, before I know it, I'm being shoved back here with you."

She stared at him, open-mouthed, barely able to read his features in the dark of the van. "He blitzed you? Are you serious? Oh, fuck. Did he get your camera and ear wig, too?"

He felt his tie and ear, then said, "Fuck," just as the distinctive sound of an engine starting rang back to them. As the vibrations of the van moving threw them back a bit, Kensi punched the side of the van.

"No kidding," she growled out. "The shit just hit the fan."

Hours later, as they're running from a warehouse on the outskirts of town, Kensi's newly reacquired gun in Deeks's hand, she curses leaving her heels back at the party. Any shoes would have been better than no shoes, because the gravel below her feet was tearing at them, like tiny little knives.

She couldn't hardly see ten feet in front of her, the darkness enveloping her as she ran. A streetlight cast a glow a ways off, and she kept heading that way, her legs pumping her faster and faster as she heard the squeal of tires behind her. Deeks was keeping up with her easily, and any other time she might have remarked on her surprise at him being in shape with the way he ate, but they were kind of running for their lives.

She heard the car growing closer, and then Deeks was dashing in front of her, curving towards what she was the sidewalk. He grabbed her hand as he went, and then they were running, gripping each other's hands like their life depended on it. And then they were running smoothly in sync, and she actually pushed herself faster.

He matched each of her strides perfectly, and she made a note to ask him if he ever took track, like her. If they were alive later, that is.

Then he skidded to a stop underneath the glow of the streetlight, and then he pulled her down beside him, ducking behind a dumpster. She half wanted to be girly, and complain about the smell, and the proximity of her extremely expensive dress to the garbage, but she didn't do any of that. She just willed her heart to stop beating so hard, and tried to control her breathing. Then Deeks was looking around, checking how many rounds they had left. She looked around the edge of the dumpster, noticing the way the tires slid to a stop less than a hundred feet from them, right at their corner.

She looked back at Deeks, and he brought a finger up to his lips, then pointed behind them at the chain-link fence that ran around the whole block. There was a small hole there, just big enough for both of them to slip through. So he gestured toward it, cocking his head in question, 'Should we try it?'

Yes, she nodded. He gestured for her to go first, and then he covered her as she darted through, keeping low to the ground. Their were overgrown shrubs all along the fence, so she could crawl along the fence line and not be seen from the outside. She turned her head behind her, making sure Deeks slipped through.

She surveyed the lot they were in, noticing another warehouse, but this one was newer, still in use. She indicated her head towards it, and he nodded his agreement. Before she could make her way towards it, however, the sounds of gruff voices drawing nearer filled her ears, and she noticed the leader, the man who had originally taken them- the hired man who did indeed work for the retired Navy man, Johnson Tolfen.

"Come out, come out, wherever you are!" his voice echoed out, and the night remained still. Deeks slinked his way beside her, and he pushed her back down, so they were both laying down on the muddy ground. He looked in her eyes, and then mouthed, "On three?"

Does he mean, me run on five? While he covers me? No way am I leaving him behind. She shook her head violently, gripping his shoulder, now only clad in a white button-up. 'Not happening,' she mouths back. Besides, even if she did get away, and he covered her long enough to escape to the building, there were four men with guns. They would probably hit her as she ran.

We need a distraction. She looked around her, for anything they might use, when her eyes landed on Deeks shined, though now muddy, shoes. A gleam hit her eye, as a plan began to form. She pointed at his shoes, then mimicked (with minimal arm movement) him throwing one shoe far ahead to their left, and her throwing a shoe behind them at the dumpster.

She saw the wheels turn in his head, as he calculated the risk. He knew as well as she that just covering the other with one gun wouldn't be enough. So finally, he nodded his head, then he surprised her, putting his hand on her cheek, with so much gentleness it nearly left her breathless.

He looked in her eyes, trying to communicate a million things at once, and he mouthes, "On three?" Kensi considers punching him for his choice of last words, but she knows that everything else would have been too much. Yes, they were partners. And yes, they had some semblance of respect and friendship now. But, neither were ready to admit anything else. If there was anything else.

"On three," she agrees silently. And then they both grab one of his shoes that he'd already untied. One. Two. Three.

They throw their shoes, and it seems to cause a bit of confusion, because then they're both running again, gripping each other's hands, dashing the hundred or so yards to the door of the warehouse. Deeks doesn't even slow down as they approach, only kicking out his leg at the last second to force the door open, and then he slams it behind them. Kensi dives behind a desk, and Deeks is a second behind her. The desk is small, and they are cramped together, but neither minds. Because they were alive, they had heard the sounds of bullets fly by them, and they were alive.

She looked up when something bumped against her face, and the curled cord of a phone hands down beside her. She looks at Deeks, hope on her face, and he grins at her in return. Then she grabs the phone, dialing as Deeks pushes shelves, desks, anything in front of the door to barge it shut.

They might make it.

After a long debriefing, a long lecture on leaving your partner in the field, and a stern-faced Hetty breaking into a smile when she saw the two leaning on each other on the couch outside the conference room, Kensi had never been so glad to be home. She had considered going out for a celebratory drink with everyone else, but all she wanted was a shower, maybe some Beatles, and her bed. But just as she stepped out of her bathroom, steam rolling around her, her doorbell rang. She grew suspicious, for who would come by at one in the morning?

She quickly reached for the weapon she slept with, and put it in the long pocket of her silk robe. She winced as she walked to her door, her feet unmistakably sore with each step. Pushing her soaked hair away from her face, she opened the door timidly, peeking out from above the chain.

"Deeks?" she questioned, surprised.

"Yeah, I know, you spent enough time with me today," he gestures with his hand, as if swatting away thoughts. "But... I had to come see how you were, really."

She looks at him, then shuts the door.

As she opens it again after sliding the chain off, his face of disbelief melts into understanding. "Oh, I thought- you were... Oh," he finishes stupidly, when he catches what she's wearing.

"Well," is all he can say, and she's blushing a bit, pulling the robe tighter around her.

"Yes?" she asks, her voice a bit shaky, with humor or embarrassment or something else, she doesn't want to know.

He rubs his hand down the side of his face, now wearing jeans and a regular t-shirt and she can tell he's tired. So she opens the door wider, and says, "Would you like a beer?"

Then he smiles at her, and nods. "No funny business, Miss Blye," he calls behind him as he situates himself at her small bar. She chuckles, then shuts the door.

Not tonight, anyway.

He wakes up extremely early, sprawled out on her couch. He looks at her coffee table, noticing the bottles of beer, and remembers them staying up late talking. He looks at his wrist watch, and winces when he realizes he'd only slept around four hours. It was Saturday though, so he hoped with all that was in him that they wouldn't need him to work today, that they would let him recuperate from the previous day's events.

He pulls himself up, looking around him. It wasn't daylight yet, but it would be soon. He should go home, he should let her be. But she was the one who told him to stay here, so he wouldn't have to drive home "in his state".

He readies himself to leave, then goes to her bedroom door, which is half-way open, and looks in on her, sleeping soundly. He doesn't want to wake her, so he writes a quick note for her on the kitchen counter. But then he stops. "Went home. Sleep well, Deeks."

That wasn't enough. Not after what had happened. After everything.

So he scribbled the first thing that came to mind, tossing the pen back on the counter as he walked out. He locked the door behind him as he left, shutting it quietly.

When she wakes up a few hours later, she can sense she's alone in again. No sounds come from the other room, and she sighs, but not in relief. She sighs because things were somehow different, without anything changing outright. Kensi couldn't pinpoint what exactly- just that things had changed.

So she readied herself to go to the store, knowing she was out of everything, including beer, now. Dressing, pulling her hair back, she didn't really want to eat anything this morning, but walking past the counter as she pulled on her shoes, she stopped. There was a note in Deeks unmistakable handwriting, small and nearly chicken scratch.

Blye, Thanks for the talk and the beer. And thanks for having my back with everything. I trust you, just so you know. See you at work. -Deeks.

She shook her head, a smile on her face. She hoped he knew that she trusted him too.

That next weekend when they go out for their usual drinks after work, the two hang back together when everyone else is gone. They still tease each other, mocking each other any chance they get, but its got an undercurrent of something else. A few of the team notice the change, but no one remarks on it. And when, at the end of the night, as everyone's leaving, Deeks asks her to stay for another drink, she smiles and nods, like she knew it was coming.

And before you know it, they're sharing a cab home. And he pays the cabby to wait as he walks her up to her front door. They both talk about mundane things for a few minutes, and he leans in to kiss her cheek timidly when they finally say goodbye. If she's surprised, she doesn't act like it. He only smiles his grin, and she rolls her eyes, smiling too.

And that's the end of the beginning of the story.

So what do you think? I've always thought they had kind of a Tony/Ziva thing going on. Maybe not as passionate or as much history yet but in the future, there is some definite potential. This takes place in the future, maybe a year or so after they first become partners.

Reviews are love :)