Tag to episode 2x06, Stand Off. And yes, I modified Kensi's outfit just a tiny bit, because otherwise...well, I have no story.

As usual, I don't own anything. Not even a bikini anymore, cause yeah. Nope.

She drove him crazy.

She always had to drive. She needed to one-up him at every stupid little thing. She ganged up on him, siding with Sam and Callen instead of supporting her partner. She was badass and was an amazing shot and admittedly, seeing her long fingers wrap around the grip of her gun caused a stirring in his pants on more than one occasion.

Kensi was also hot as fuck and knew it. Deeks liked her no-fuss wardrobe, her ponytails, the fact that she hardly ever wore lipstick (because really, it was just going to stick and smear on his face or his dick in the event some great miracle happened and she actually gave in to the sexual tension that had existed between them since they first met undercover at the MMA gym).

What he didn't like about Kensi was the way she flaunted her tiny bikini in front of him before they headed to the beach to serve as overwatch for Callen's scary hot ex-wife. She could have wrapped her sarong around her exposed lower half in the changing area, but no, she had to step from behind her screen and adjust her bikini bottoms right in front of him. They were way too small, the tied strings straining against her hip bones, the tiny fabric settling between her butt cheeks and fitting so snugly that he swore he could see the outline of her pussy lips. She noticed his staring and gave him a challenging look as she tied the sarong around her waist.

Fuck, why did he have to end up with a female partner?

Kensi brushed her wind strewn hair out of her face and attempted to tuck her Sig in her flimsy sarong. Of course that didn't work, and she cursed the gods of undercover work for putting her in a bikini again. Instead she handed her gun to Deeks to put in the pocket of his swim trunks, the largest show of trust between the two of them since they'd become partners. He raised an eyebrow but accepted it without argument. She wasn't exactly paying much attention to his face, though. No, her gaze was focused on his chest and arms and abs and the way his swim trunks hung dangerously low on his hips from the weight of the pistols in his pockets.

She wondered what else he was packing.

Shut it down, Blye.

Deeks was her partner, and he drove her crazy with his annoying jokes and ridiculous hair and lean, muscular body. What drove her crazier was that she knew that underneath that goofy veneer, he had a serious side. Maybe even a little damaged. It kind of made him a little hot, and made it harder for her to adhere to her "don't fuck where you shoot" mentality.

That state of mind didn't keep her from teasing him, just a little bit, to give herself a few thrills. She saw him ogling her in her bikini, and maybe she flaunted a little bit too much. Maybe she wiggled her ass and let her sarong rise too high when she spread out on their beach towel. It was fun, watching him squirm and then not even letting him touch her long enough to put sunscreen on her.

It was a fucked up little game. She hated herself for playing it because it made her wet as hell and the last thing she needed was to be horny for Deeks. Shit. This had to stop.

They shared duties in hauling their props back to her Cadillac. After loading everything into the back hatch, Deeks grabbed a white tee shirt from his go-bag and tugged it over his head. A head of blond curls broke free from the cotton blend neck hole, springing to life in the warm ocean air. Kensi would be damned if she didn't want to touch them.

"You wanna change?" Deeks asked her, almost pleadingly.

"Yeah." She slipped her sarong off, threw it in the back, and grabbed her clothes. Her partner diverted his eyes and shut the hatch before opening the door to the backseat for her. "Just give me a sec."

She pulled the door closed and rested her head against the back of the cool leather seat, closing her eyes in relief. The small SUV shifted as Deeks leaned against her door. This was it, she thought. The last of her toying with him. They could verbally spar or pick on each other, but no more sexual teasing. It was a bad, bad idea.

Suddenly a warm body was next to her on the confined bench seat of her Cadillac. Funny, she'd never even heard the car door open. Deeks was staring at her intently, his gaze so piercing that it felt like he was stabbing her in the gut. She had to remind herself to breathe, but the air was thick with the scent of arousal (her own, no doubt) and stuffy from the lack of ventilation.

"What are you..." Her voice faltered. His fingers were wrapping around her ankles and she swore he was spreading her legs open.

For as awesome as she knew her boobs were, his attention was much more focused on the small patch of fabric that was literally just hanging on by a thread. His blue eyes flashed, and now it was his turn to up the challenge. "Your move," he said calmly, licking his bottom lip.

Bad idea, a sing-songy voice in Kensi's head chanted. But did she listen to it? Of course not. She clenched her jaw defiantly and told her conscience to shut the hell up. In an act far bolder than she thought possible for herself, she slowly untied the strings on each side of her bikini bottoms. It fell a little at a time, revealing herself to him in agonizingly slow fashion until her bottoms lay flat against the leather seat.

Deeks raised his eyebrows, apparently stunned. "Wow."

Kensi rolled her eyes and grabbed her bottoms, flinging them at his face as she grinned proudly. She already had him eating out of her hands. Or so she thought.

"You think you're cute," he said with a smirk, fingering the strings of her bikini in his hands. She shrugged playfully, but the smile on his face concerned her. It was a little more evil than playful. "Hmm. Give me your hands."

"Um." She swallowed hard. "My hands?"

"Your hands," he repeated smoothly.

With wide eyes she held her hands out, palms up. Never taking his eyes off of her face, he expertly wove the strip of fabric around her wrists. Before she could protest or even comment on his knot-tying abilities, Deeks pulled her up and back, tying her bikini to the handle bar above the window behind her. Sure, she's always called it an "oh shit handle", but...well, oh shit.

Deeks was never a boy scout, and she was sure she could loosen his knots within seconds if she really wanted to. Curiosity, intrigue, and all the fucking pheromones in the car were defeating her will to be free, however. "You having fun?"

"Yes." His answer was firm and confident. Tracing a ticklish path down the sensitive skin of her inner arm down to the curve of her breasts, while the devilish smile remained on his face. She gasped and wiggled as his thumbs ghosted over her nipples. "You're not?"

Yes, her head shouted, but he was already taking way too much satisfaction in her lack of pants and control. "I feel a little..."

"Powerless?" His hands settled on her bare hips as he positioned himself in between her legs. The closer his lips got to hers, the more her body trembled with excitement. "We're partners, now, right?"

"Of course," she answered. Partners don't usually make a habit of tying each other up, though, did they? If so, she'd been missing out for a while.

A shot of electricity surged through her body when his lips pressed softly against hers. Kissing someone for the first time was always an amazing feeling, but something about this kiss was so intense that it made her buck her hips against him. "Do you trust me?" Deeks mumbled, pulling his mouth away and kissing his way down her cheek, jaw, and neck.

Kensi held her breath, unsure of how to answer the question. Trust was a tricky thing. She guess she trusted him enough to work by her side, and to spread her legs for him...but given her track record, that wasn't really saying much. Her non-answer didn't deter him from grasping her butt cheeks roughly, or from sliding back on the bench so he could trail his mouth down the valley of her chest. If she had less pride, she would have whined at his neglect. But she wasn't about to argue about the direction he was headed.

She squirmed again when he flicked his tongue against her belly ring, a sign of things to come she was sure. He raised his eyes to her again, and for the first time since he returned from his undercover mission, she felt speechless. Exposed. Vulnerable. Excited? What the hell has Deeks done to her?

"I'm gonna ask you again," he warned her, kissing the dip in her hipbone. "Do you tr-"

A sharp rap on the window startled Kensi from her trance, causing her to flap around like a fish out of water on the Cadillac's bench that she was sitting on...alone.

"What the hell are you doing in there?" Deeks' voice came, muffled, from outside the car. "Did you lose your clothes? Are you on Old Navy's site shopping? Don't pull the girl excuse, you pee faster than I do and I don't even have to pull my pants down."

She sat, frozen, trying to think of an excuse for her apparent trip to Sexytimes Lala Land.

"Kensi?" He sounded more concerned than annoyed now. "You okay?"

"Yeah," she answered nervously, ripping her bathing suit off and sending pieces flying across the car. "I had a uh, knot in my strings, I was working on it."

"You need some he-"

"I got it," she snapped, quickly tugging her clothes on. When she opened the door, Deeks stood with his arms crossed and an eyebrow raised. "Shut up," she growled.

He glared at her and walked to the passenger side door. "I didn't even say anything!"

"No, but your tiny brain is probably working on overdrive to try think of something completely unfunny to say." She climbed in and turned the ignition as he slid in next to her. "I'm just telling you to conserve your energy."

"Whatever." As she put the car in drive, she noticed a puzzled look cross his face. Reaching under his ass, he pulled out the item he'd accidentally sat on. He held up her bikini bottoms and grinned like the devil she was pretty sure he was. "Really?"

"I..." Kensi tried to speak, but had no words whatsoever.

She should have snatched her bathing suit from him, or apologized, or played it aloof. But in reality, all she could do was stare at the way he held her bikini in his hands, toying with the strings. He held it, fascinated, like maybe he'd had his own fantasy about her from the other side of the car door. A shaky sigh escaped her lips, and she turned her attention to the road.

No more teasing, she knew for sure now. She did allow herself to cast one more glance at her partner twirling her strings between his fingers before turning onto the highway. That was an image she wouldn't soon forget.