SENSORY OVERLOAD
by MioneAlterEgo

DISCLAIMER: I, the undersigned, do hereby acknowledge that I own absolutely nothing about this show, except a couple of DVD box sets and a box full of paperclips to use on Mssrs. Brennan, Kalstein, et. al., if they drag out Densi for seven seasons the way the NCIS show-runners have done to Tiva...

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This story started out as a one-shot about touch. Then, a plot bunny for a scene on sound/hearing showed up. Then I thought, "Why not just do all five?" And this is what happened. There will be five chapters (one for each of the five major senses, naturally) and they're all already written, waiting patiently in the queue to be posted. Also, this one is all Densi, all the time, so for those who shy away from my Nallen-y fics, fear not: this one is pure, unadulterated Kensi/Deeks goodness with no additives, preservatives, or artificial flavors.

Confession: This story has been complete for several weeks, and I was procrastinating on posting because I couldn't get the darn summary sounding decent. It always came out sounding either like a bad p0rn fic or something written by a semi-illiterate pre-teen. But thankfully my dear friends/betas/sounding-boards-extraordinaire Mel(imahistorian) and Angela (Angela6257)once again came to the rescue with inspiration, encouragement, and refreshing beverages! Special shout-out also to Mel's Siri, who sent pleading text messages and faithfully reminded me to post this darn thing. (Incidentally, the first chapter of Mel's new story "Feel the Tide" is now up. It's a sequel to her beyond-brilliant "Truth Be Told," and I highly recommend it for your Densi-reading pleasure!) And always, always thank YOU for reading! Hope you enjoy!

She recognizes the smell of hospital before her eyes even open. It takes her a moment longer to realize she's the one in the bed with the tubes in her arms this time, instead of the one dozing uncomfortably in a chair.

She hates this smell, the cloying smell of chemicals and disinfectant, and she swears at times even the smell of blood. Her stomach rolls uncomfortably and she takes a slow, concentrated breath, in through the nose and out through the mouth, in an attempt to tamp down the nausea.

There, in the whiff of hospital air, is a much more familiar scent. It's sunlight, sweat, and a little bit of shampoo. Relief washes over her in waves, and she slowly forces her eyes open, pupils stinging at the invasion of even the dim light around her.

The only light in the room is a single lamp somewhere near her head. The darkness outside the window indicates it's late, late at night, and yet there he sits. Deeks is twisted uncomfortably in a wooden chair at her bedside, arm in a sling, legs propped up at the foot of her mattress. He's sporting a black eye and a couple of mild abrasions on his face but otherwise doesn't look any worse for wear. As much as she hates to wake him she's confused and a little disoriented; she vaguely remembers the sound of a car backfiring, but that wouldn't explain his injuries or why she's currently hooked up to an IV drip and a heart monitor.

When she glances back at his face his eyes have opened, peering at her in silence as if trying to figure out the answer to his question without voicing it. He speaks anyway, quietly, as if out of respect for the darkness in the room.

"How are you feeling?"

"Am I on painkillers?"

"Yeah," he snorts. "Several."

"That figures. I'm feeling pretty good. I think people in hospital beds aren't supposed to wake up feeling this good. Otherwise they probably wouldn't be in the hospital at all..."

Deeks chuckles softly as he drags himself up from the chair. Drug-hazy Kensi isn't a sight he's ever really gotten to see before, mostly because coherent Kensi refuses to take anything stronger than a Motrin. Kensi's face grows serious as Deeks perches on the side of the bed, using his one good hand to tug hers into his lap. His warm, slightly calloused fingers stroke carefully around the port where her IV has been placed. She frowns slightly.

"Deeks, what happened? What am I doing in a hospital?"

"You don't remember?"

"Not at the moment."

"Well, we're officially even now. You got shot. Twice, actually. You were covering for Sam and Callen and me."

"Are they-?"

"Everyone's a little banged up, but yeah, we're all fine. You won the injury prize this time."

"I got shot twice?"

"Yup."

"Where?"

"Once in the abdomen, just above your hip, the other in your left leg. No chasing down suspects for you for a while."

Kensi nods as though considering this, then stops and crinkles her nose.

"What's that smell?" she grumbles. "I didn't notice it before now, but it smells like something's burning."

Deeks sniffs the air for a moment before giving her a quizzical look and shaking his head. "There's no burning smell."

"Yes, there is," Kensi insists. "You just can't smell it because it smells like hospital in here."

He eyes her carefully before leaning toward her, putting his face very close to hers and drawing in a deep breath. Kensi compensates by not breathing at all, stunned into inaction by his sudden proximity. Deeks chuckles again.

"It's your hair, Kens. It smells like gun powder or something. Or maybe it got singed in the explosion before the firefight. But that's what you smell."

Kensi takes a deep breath again and sighs contentedly. No longer can she smell the burnt hair smell from a moment before, or even the disinfectant hospital stench that has permeated her airways. Deeks' face is mere inches away from hers, and all she can smell is the same familiar scent she detected before even opening her eyes: sunlight, sweat, and shampoo, but this time it's mingled with a little bit of coffee on his breath and something that reminds her of chocolate.

The words are out of her mouth well before she has the conscious thought to stop them.

"You should just sit here like this. You smell really good."

Deeks grins. "I think that's the drugs talking, Princess. I haven't had a shower in almost 24 hours and we could both use a stick of deodorant right about now."

"No, you do. You smell really good. You just smell like you. It's nice."

His eyes glitter with amusement and darken just half of a shade. "When you come off the pharmaceuticals I am so going to remind you of this conversation."

"Eh. I don't care. I don't care about aaaaaanything right now," she croons. "Just as long as you stay sitting here where I can smell you."

"You're weird when you're drugged up."

"Don't care. Doooooon't caaaaare..."

Deeks' hoot of laughter alerts the nurses in the hallway to the fact that their patient is now awake, and the spell is broken as a stream of medical professionals file through the room. But when Kensi returns to work the following week, Deeks takes a little extra time with his morning shower routine and double-checks that he's chosen a freshly-laundered shirt for the day, and he makes a point of standing as close to her as possible when they go up to Ops for their briefing. He drops a couple of hints, but it's obvious she doesn't remember her chemically induced conversation from when she woke up in the hospital. It doesn't escape his notice, however, that she leans into him a little more than usual that day and takes a deep breath whenever he brushes past her.

Kensi isn't sure why she's never noticed it before, but Deeks smells really, really good. If I ever find the right moment, she thinks to herself, maybe I should tell him sometime.