xxxx
Kensi called him from the hospital. Deeks came pretty quickly. He said, "So you're okay?"
"Yup," she said. "But you have to get that stuff checked out. I didn't even score painkillers this time." She nearly laughed. "And thanks, seriously, for coming to pick me up." She got in his car.
"For you to sell? You strike me as a little too macho to really take painkillers," he said.
"No, not to sell." She stretched in her seat. "I hold onto them for serious headaches -"
"Your lady time?"
"Nice," she said. "But yeah. How macho, right?"
"You are totally macho. You love cars and camping and the outdoors," he said. She was too tired to keep up the banter and feeling sad out of nowhere so she just stared out the window.
He pulled up to his apartment and parked. She said, "Maybe I wanted to go to my home."
"Maybe," he said. "Look, I'm not planning to make a move or anything, I know you're injured. And you know what sucks when you're all ache-y and bruised?"
"Not waking up in your own home?" She walked into his apartment anyway.
"Ha, waking up alone. That sucks," he said. "Right?"
"Right," she mumbled.
She found a comfortable position on the couch, just wanting to watch tv. She watched more tv since Deeks, he made it fun. He disappeared back to the kitchen and came back with ice packs for her hip and thigh. "These're what I hoard," he said.
"When the ocean smacks you in the face surfing?" She laughed. But she was looking right at him and smiling so she was hoping, in her cranky way, he understood she said it with not love, but definitely a lot of like. He smiled back.
He let her have the whole couch and stretched out his long legs on the floor. She rubbed his shoulders while he made happy humming sounds of appreciation. It was frighteningly domestic.
She said, "I think we should stop. Not dating, I mean, this whole sex thing."
"And you had to tell me while we're watching a rerun of Becker?" He turned to look at her and doing that thing with his face where suddenly he had cartoon big blue eyes.
"Sorry, we can do it one more time. In the morning. Have sex, I mean. I don't want to stop because of the sex. Which is really great."
"Thanks for that," he said. He rubbed his face and then turned the tv off. "I'm ready for bed, okay?"
"Do you want me to not sleep there?"
He rolled his eyes. "Yes, I want you to sleep on the floor. Or Monty's dog bed. I am a horrible asshole who deserves to be treated like someone pretending to be NSA when they're really French." He helped her gather up the ice packs. They put them away in the refrigerator. He grabbed her waist as he walked by, turning her around so they were walking together. "You just said we're not over until the morning, let's sleep together."
That wasn't what she said, she thought. Maybe it was what she should have said.
They were under the thick blankets and all tucked in on their sides when she said, "You're not gonna ask me why? Or talk me out of it?" She sighed.
"You can't argue out of being dumped," he said, sounding chipper.
In the morning they had slow, languid sex. She came in a long wave that left her shaking a little. "You are really amazing at that," she said.
He ran his finger over her tattoo. "Dogwood," he said.
"Yup." She said, "I can't believe you graduated from Stanford."
"Double legacy, baby." He punctuated the "baby" with two light pats on her butt.
"Your dad went to Stanford?"
He laughed so hard you'd think he'd told a joke or Monty had farted. He said, "No. Not at all. My mother, you sexist. She graduated from Stanford. Like her father. Is that really what you've been waiting to ask me?"
She sat up and got off the bed. "Maybe."
"You have weird standards, Kens. Also, wanna hear what I've been waiting to ask?"
She stood in the bathroom doorway this time. Still naked. She said, "Okay."
"Will you go out to dinner with me?"
"Oh, god," she said. She walked into the bathroom and closed the door. She brushed her teeth with the toothbrush she kept at his place. She checked out the bruises from the car yesterday. She took a long hot shower. She dried off with one of his towels. She took a deep breath and opened the door.
He was nowhere to be seen. He'd even made the bed. She got dressed. She was gathering up all her stuff like the toothbrush and dirty clothes from the bedroom when she heard noises from the kitchen. He'd been walking Monty.
"You decided whether you want to go out with me yet?"
It made her laugh that he sounded so confident. He was still in the kitchen. He said, "You're laughing so I think you're leaning towards yes."
"Yeah, that's why." She walked into the kitchen and he breezed past her.
"I need to shower and pee," he said.
She put all her things in one of the paper grocery bags Deeks had folded under the sink. "Classy," Deeks said. "I can lend you an actual bag."
"I'm good," she said. "And I'm sorry. For ending the sex. And doing it abruptly. I mean, it's probably been coming a long time. Maybe it was a bad idea. But I like you now. So, sorry."
"You want to go out with me," he said. "Come on. You already know the sex is great. I went to Stanford which you're weirdly turned on by, I make you laugh."
"I'm not, the Stanford thing just surprises me. You went to one of the most selective colleges in the country -"
"Which you got rejected from, I take it."
She stood up quickly and had to brace herself. She was not at her best at this moment. "I didn't. My guidance counselor said I didn't have enough, whatever, I shouldn't apply. I was, you know, homeschooled for a year." It was a transparent lie. Deeks had to know she was lying. She was never homeschooled.
He let it stand. She pressed her lips together. "Okay," she said. "Anyway."
"Perfectly within rules for NCIS agents to date. Perfectly within rules for NCIS agents and liasons to date," he said.
"What happened to can't argue out of being dumped? Also, did you make breakfast?"
He laughed again. She was not amused by how amusing he found her right at that moment. "I can definitely argue you into doing something I think you want to do. I've been waiting for you to dump me, seriously. We're clearly already dating. And no, dear heart, I did not make breakfast because I thought after we settle this, we could go out."
"First date breakfast?"
"Most important meal of the day," he said.
"What if I say no?"
"That word you have not said?" He just looked at her. "Then I stop, we're done, it's fine. Whatever you want."
"Thanks," she said. "I mean it. Thank you." She still didn't say no. "Take me out to breakfast, but it's not a date."
Deeks knew all the best diners. She was using her pancake to mop up some delicious bacon grease and she said, "What if we break up?"
"What if we don't?" He sipped his coffee in some obscene way where she could not miss his tongue.
"Stop doing that," she said. "Wiith your tongue."
He licked his lips. "I don't know what you mean." He smirked.
"We could break up, you know. We fight a lot." She sat back. "This isn't some easy thing for me, you know."
"Me neither. My last serious relationship ended with a boom," he said, looking down.
"My last serious relationship," she said. "He died, too. First time I even dated after Jack left me, when I just started at NCIS."
"Marine?"
"Ha, no. He was Army, actually. He was a grief counselor, weirdly. He was killed in a convenience store robbery," she said, looking up. If you look up, you don't cry. She thought that was true.
He reached across the table and rubbed her hand. She definitely needed to look up. She was so tired of being sad. She knew she'd made herself sad breaking off whatever they were doing. But she remembered her first partner at NCIS dying in the field. She remembered Dom and Jack and her father. It was stupid to pretend things always ended well. "Anyway, what if we break up?"
"I still wouldn't leave you," he said. "I'd be so mature, you'd be like, wow, am I glad I have Marty in my life to be so mature. I don't know if you'll be able to measure up because let's face it, I'm clearly the most mature here."
She laughed and looked down at her empty plate. "You are so not."
"I so am. I'm so adult, I'll even let you have the last word when you say 'no, no, I'm so mature.'" His imitation of her voice was super high and had his idea of a Valley Girl accent.
"I am more mature," she said. "Look, I broke up with you because we're getting too serious. It's too fast. We're partners. We're pretty good partners."
"The whole point was we weren't dating. You insisted on it. Repeatedly. But okay, we were dating by the end. So, see, we're dealing with this break up pretty good. We went out to breakfast."
"Okay, ha." She smiled. "I'm tired, though. Can we just table this? Like, for a week."
He nodded. They went in to work and everything was normal. It wasn't weird at all. They rode together and Deeks made jokes about her twinkies and ho hos. He didn't mention her tattoo. Totally normal partners hanging out. She actually called him "the more mature one" in the car, during a stakeout. He raised his eyebrows and smiled at her.
She missed him when she went home, though. She was just more used to him being around. She liked waking up to his laugh. Which was why she broke up with him. They were basically dating. That wasn't what she wanted. Except now, maybe she did.
She had no one to talk to. That part was weird. And normal. She had friends, of course. But most of them didn't know she was NCIS. It was too hard to explain why she thought it was a bad idea to date her partner. She really wanted to, but it was a bad idea. They'd only been sleeping together for seven months, partners for two or three weeks more.
"I miss hanging out," she said in the car in the morning.
"You mean when you'd come over and watch my cable all day and make me pay when we ordered food delivered?"
"Yeah, I miss that."
He said, "Me, too. You know, we can do that if we're not dating. I like hanging out with you even when there isn't sex. I like the way you make fun of people's accents."
"Yeah," she said. "But I don't know what to do. Just because I want to doesn't mean it's a good idea."
"Like making twinkies and ding dongs one of your three main food groups," he said. "You do that."
"This is actually different," she said. "Okay. Plus, it's like -"
"This is the scene in the Kate Hudson film where you talk to your sassy best friend except, wait, you don't have a sassy best friend who knows you're a super spy. And really, it's more of an Angelina Jolie action film from back when she did those instead of Oscar bait and she doesn't have sassy friends in those films."
"Exactly," she said.
"You'd totally have a sassy best friend if it weren't for the job," he said in his nearly serious voice.
"I know," she said. "I never thought that." He was looking away. "Oh, you think that."
He shrugged and looked at his hands. She said, "You have friends, Deeks. You have more than I do."
"It's not about the number," he said. "The point is -"
"Who did you talk to about," she said. "Me."
"Uh, Monty." He smiled at her. "I don't think it's a bad idea. I want to date you. I don't have much to work out there."
"You scare me," she said quietly.
"I just practically admitted I don't think my friends really like me, and you think I'm scary?"
"Is that what you admitted? I know your friends really like you, I'm your friend and I really like you." She squeezed his knee."And you're not scary at all, honestly. I mean, you, you're not my type at all, I've never dated anyone like you, and all of that." She took a deep breath and tried to slow her speeding heart.
"You are actually totally my type. Tough, loves guns, doesn't think much of me, not funny."
"I object to those last two. Okay, that last one." She laughed, though, like he wanted. They were at the Mission so she parked. She said, "Sorry, let's do this later."
"Okay, okay."
"Deeks," she said. They were about to go inside and she grabbed his arm. "I do think of you, like I don't think you're a loser."
He looked down and said, "Thanks."
Sam had taken Deeks down to the gym to show him how to box for real or whatever vaguely threatening thing Sam said. Deeks had been mouthing "help me help me" at her before he followed Sam. Callen said, "That is definitely going to end well."
She bit her lip and then said, "Can I ask you something personal, sort of? Or not sort of. It's totally personal."
Callen nodded, immediately serious. It was a little humbling that he respected her that much.
"So," she said. "I'm thinking, hypothetically, maybe, would you date someone you worked with?"
Callen clearly suppressed a grin. "Well, Kensi, since I know you're not asking me out, I would say, hypothetically, I would think twice about doing more than just having sex with Deeks."
She shrugged. "Okay, you knew. But what does think twice mean? Don't do it, do it?"
"You want me to tell you not do it," he laughed a little. "You want me to tell you not to date him. I said think twice because dating someone you work with isn't like going out for drinks with the guy who gives you his number at Starbucks. Especially in our line of work. It doesn't mean no."
"You're not gonna tell me what to do? I would be okay with that," she said.
"You really wouldn't," he said. "Just let me know what you decide."
"You suck," she said.
She went home alone, flipped through channels and found herself watching a Kate Hudson romantic comedy. She didn't really care about Kate Hudson.
She called Deeks. "Come over," she said.
"To your apartment? Where I have never been inside?"
"If you keep that up, I won't let you in."
"Okay, leaving now."
She didn't even bother to clean up her apartment. It was too much work and Deeks was already used to taking her as she was. Then she thought maybe she should make an effort. She should be a better person. But it wasn't being a better person, it was hiding who she really was. She had a foolproof argument for never cleaning up. It was about her confidence and high self-esteem. She laughed at herself.
Deeks knocked on the door. She let him in and noted his wide eyes at her apartment. "Wow," he said.
"I think we should date," she said.
"I, wow, I agree," he said. He kissed her and grabbed her ass. He lifted her up like some cheesy movie. It was a pretty good kiss. He said, "Your apartment looks like a Hoarders episode."
"It is not that bad," she said.
"Okay, it is not that bad." She wrapped her legs around his waist and he carried her to the couch. Then they were on the couch, her on her back, he on top. He said, "So, make out or talk more?"
"Make out, have sex, talk in the morning," she said.
"Excellent," he said.
He pushed up her shirt, kissing and fondling her breasts. She got hot so quickly. It had only been a week or so, but it felt like years since he'd been inside her. She thought, fuck it, I love you, I love you, I love you. She looked up at the ceiling and bit her lip so she didn't say it. At least not yet. She hadn't become that brave overnight.