A/N: This is based off a drabble request I received on Tumblr: What if Kensi married a rich Deeks? Somehow, I turned it into a multi-chapter thing. Fair warning, this will be shamelessly ridiculous and self-indulgent. Right down to the title.
"Can I help you?" Deeks asked as he walked around the side of the house, to see a woman knocking on the front door. She turned, looking a little surprised to see him there.
He watched her slowly give him a once over and did the same, taking in her long brown hair, which gently curled around her shoulders and a pair of mismatched brown eyes. She was stunning, but he stopped himself from completely ogling her and nodded to the door. "No one's in there right now."
"Oh." She frowned and gave him a dubious look. Ignoring her obvious distaste for him, he extended a hand. After a brief hesitation, she took it. Her grasp was strong and he saw her eyes flick over his dirty nails.
"I'm Deeks," he offered, pulling his hat off and ruffling his bangs so they didn't stick to his forehead. "Sorry about all the dirt, I was working in the garden."
"Don't worry about it," she said. "I'm looking for Martin Brandel. Do you know where I could find him?" Deeks raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms.
"What do you want with him?" The woman sighed and reached into her pocket, pulled out a wallet and flipped it open. He just had enough time to read NCI on the ID when she snapped it closed and said,
"I'm Special Agent Kensi Blye from NCIS."
"I've heard about you guys," Deeks said, gesturing to the pocket where Agent Blye had replaced the wallet. "You're kind of like the military version of CSI right?" He grinned and Agent Blye pressed her lips together, any friendliness gone.
"No, we're not like CSI. Now tell me where Martin Brandel is," she insisted, apparently thinking Deeks would be cowed by her tough guy act, but he actually found it kind of adorable. "I need to ask him some questions."
Resting a hand on his cocked hip, Deeks nodded.
"I think I'll be able to help you with that."
"I need to talk to Mr. Brandel, not his gardener." He voice practically dripped with derision and Deeks held back another grin.
"Great, because I'm not the gardener. I mean, I have been gardening and I do like to garden, but I'm not a gardener by trade. Actually, there is no gardener, just a part time housekeeper and a guy that mows the lawn one a week and sometimes trims the bushes," Deeks explained, enjoying the slightly dumbfounded expression on Agent Blye's face. After a moment, she pressed a hand to her forehead.
"Just tell me where Brandel is or I'll arrest you for obstruction of justice," she threatened.
"Mm, I'm pretty sure that would be an illegal charge. Actually, I'm 100% sure it is. And of you did, I could, theoretically, sue your agency for false arrest."
"How the hell do you know that?"
"Because I'm a lawyer...and I am also Marty Brandel." He grinned as Agent Blye's mouth dropped open slightly.
"Please tell me your joking," she begged and he shrugged, holding back a chuckle.
"I'm afraid I'm not," he told her, unable to contain his amusement at her obvious shock. Her eyes jumped to his hair and sweat-stained t-shirt before she caught herself, her cheeks flushing. "I apologize Mr. Deeks-Brandel?"
"It'll probably just be easier if you call me Deeks or Marty. Most people do," he told her. When she didn't respond, he added, "And I don't know about you, but I'm burning up. We can go inside and grab a drink."
Something about his offer seemed to shake Agent Blye out of her stupor and she suddenly stiffened, her back perfectly straight. Oh yeah, she definitely looked like someone who worked with the military.
"I'm fine, Mr. Deeks," she said firmly, indicating that any offer of further refreshment would be turned down. "But I really do need to ask you some questions."
"Ok," he gestured to the door and led her into the house. "Just give me a minute to change into something that doesn't smell like compost and I'm all yours."
Kensi watched Marty Deeks jog up a long staircase, taking them two at a time. He was not at all what she had expected.
"Nice job, Blye," she muttered to herself. She'd made a complete fool of herself, threatening to arrest a witness who hadn't done anything wrong. At least Callen and Sam hadn't been around to see it. They'd never let her live it down.
Curious, she wandered around the small foyer area and into what looked like a sun room. There were a couple bookcases, three whicker chairs with cushions and matching tables, several flourishing house plants, which Kensi eyed jealously, and oddly enough, a surf board leaning against the far wall.
Wondering what type of books a rich lawyer who liked to garden, and apparently surf, would read, she started perusing the bookshelves.
"You found my favorite spot," Deeks said from behind her several minutes later. "Aside from the beach, of course."
Kensi turned around and her mouth instantly went dry. He'd changed into a deep blue shirt that hugged every muscle in his chest and emphasized his eyes. Somehow she hadn't noticed before that they were a piercing blue. Apparently he'd showered too because his hair clung to his jaw in damp curls.
God, he was gorgeous, she thought.
"Agent Blye, are you ok?" For the briefest of moments, Kensi thought she'd actually said it out loud.
"Yes, I'm fine," she said, adopting an authoritative pose, like she hadn't just been ogling the guy she'd insulted 10 minutes ago. Deeks nodded, sitting in one of the wicker chairs and crossing his long legs. He gestured for her to do the same.
"Ok, so what did you want to ask me about?"