Author's note: This certainly has been my longest story to date, I believe. As I've mentioned, this one has been the most challenging to write; writing post-eps and staying true to cannon for 90% of this monster was a challenge but I'm glad I stuck to it!

As always, I am indebted to my betas. They're phenomenal people and wonderful at keeping me in line. Thanks, gals. :)

Thanks to all of you who have commented and reviewed and favorited. This has been a fun write and hearing from you all has made it even more enjoyable.

Shockingly, CBS lawyers, 28 chapters later I am still broke and do not own nor profit (other than emotional profit from reviews) off your characters. I have returned your toys unharmed. Don't sue me.

Kensi settled a bag of frozen peas against his cheek and placed his hand on top, holding it in place. There would be swelling without a doubt, but the ice would help. If nothing else, it would numb the pain a bit.

She shifted on the coffee table in front of him, mentally noting how despite her t-shirt's gaping neckline and the perfect view down her top, his eyes never strayed from the ceiling.

She winced with empathy when she daubed the cotton ball on the abrasion but he barely flinched. Machismo be damned, peroxide on an open wound hurt like hell and she knew good and well he wasn't above milking sympathy out of her. Between the lack of Deeks-like attention being given to her cleavage and his stoic reaction to the sting of the peroxide, her partner-warning-bells began to ring.

"Do I need to call an ambulance?" she asked, her voice catching his attention and pulling him out of his daydream. "Did you get hit in the head harder than I thought?"

"Head's pretty hard," he uttered with a half-shrug. "It'll take more than a wild-punch to do serious damage."

She frowned. "Deeks-"

He shrugged. "This is different."

Kensi's brow furrowed.

His hand eased the bag away from his face and he sucked in a small breath as the air hit his bruised skin. "Having you do this. It's just different."

She leaned back, capping the peroxide bottle, taking the bag of peas from his hand and nabbing the stray pieces of cotton which she had carelessly deposited on the coffee table.

"Sorry."

His eyes shot open wider and he blinked in surprise. "That was far from a complaint," he called after her, watching her head into the kitchen. He didn't turn, but heard the trash can lid flip up as she no doubt disposed of the gauze. A cabinet thudded and he assumed the peroxide was being returned to the first-aid kit. She was a creature of habit and there was comfort to be found in his ability to know her every move on noises alone.

"I mean, usually I'm here alone and Monty's pouting because I'm too sore to take him for a walk," he heard the gentle snick of the seal on the door opening and a rustling in his fridge. "And I'm too tired to do anything more than hold a frosty beer to my cheek."

She perched on the arm of the sofa, extending a brown bottle his way.

His lips twitched into a smirk when she touched the cold glass to his cheek.

"I'd hate for you to break routine just because I'm here," she quipped, half-smiling when he tugged the bottle from her hand and took a pull from the mouth.

She let the cool amber glass slip through her fingers. He set it on the end table, not quite making the coaster, before reaching for the bottle in her other hand.

"Hey!" Kensi tried half heartedly to pull the beer from his reach, but instead found the bottle relinquished and herself being tugged over the arm of the sofa and tumbling into Deeks' lap.

She looked up at him when her world stopped flipping and couldn't help but enjoy the delightedly smug look on his face. It wasn't often he was able to sneak one past her and she loved it as much as he did when he was successful.

"Its a good thing purple's a nice color on you, huh?" she asked, reaching up and gently touching his swollen face. "This is going to be nasty tomorrow."

He turned his head and placed a firm kiss to her palm, her eyes fluttering shut. "Think I could get away with staying home? My dashing good looks won't be there to help distract the bad-guys," he teased.

"You know, I'd suggest something horribly sappy like saying 'you're not allowed to stay home unless I get to stay home and take care of you,'" she said, rolling her eyes. "But the reality is, one of us wouldn't make it through the day without further bruising. We'd kill each other."

He grinned. "Ah, Kensalina, you speaketh the truth."

She shifted trying to slip out of his embrace, but he held firm. "Come on, Deeks," she whined, shifting again.

With a sigh, he released her.

In an instance, she had slipped off his lap and onto the couch at his side. They were hip to hip and she tucked her feet up underneath her, twisting so her body was angled towards his and her chest almost pressed against his arm. Kensi's arm fell to the back of the couch and she, somewhat tentatively, allowed herself to swirl her fingers in the shaggy locks at the base of his neck.

Deeks' head tilted towards her and he leveled his gaze on her. "This was definitely nicer than coming home to an empty place and a cold beer bottle for an icepack."

A small grin twitched her lips and she promptly decided to not will it away.

"I, um," he cleared his throat. "I don't know why you did what you did today."

Her fingers stilled in his hair and he could sense her confusion.

"Did what?" she was clearly baffled.

"You know what," he said, not dignifying her modesty. His fingers squeezing her thigh slightly. "You stood up to Hetty - HETTY. Kens, that's the stuff that legends are made of. I think I need to start drawing Super-Kensi comics to document this. Do you prefer a cape or a mask?"

"Deeks-"

His tone shifted, dropping a few notes and becoming heavy with gravity. "I'm serious, Kensi."

And there it was. Her first name. Her full first name. He rarely called her by her full first name. This was serious to him. She shrugged. "It wasn't that big of a deal."

"Don't make it less than it was."

Kensi sighed and felt her body give into the exhaustion of the day, finally relaxing against the safety of Deeks' form. "She used me," she whispered.

There was no reassurance he could offer. She was too smart for that. There was no virtual pat on the head or soothing gesture that would make this ok. He merely nodded. "Yeah."

"We'd follow her anywhere; and we have - without question," she said, her voice cracking on his name, thick with unshed frustrated tears. "But we're more than just puppets, Deeks."

"Yeah."

"I don't want to have her pulling the strings for the rest of my life. I don't want anyone to do that. Not Hetty, not Granger."

"Not even me?"

She looked up, meeting his eyes with a smirk and an arched brow. "Really?" Her brown locks fell in her face as she shook her head and rolled her eyes. "First off you know that if you ever try to manipulate me, I'll beat you so senseless you won't even know what you did to deserve it. Secondly," she paused and sighed, twining their fingers on one hand. Her voice dropped to almost a whisper. "There's no reason for you to even try, Deeks. I think you'd be surprised what I'd do for you. Manipulation is not a requirement for us."

He reached up and tucked the wayward locks behind her ears. "I - I don't know that I've ever had anyone stand up for me like that, Kens." She opened her mouth, but he cut her off with a gentle peck. "I know you didn't do it for me. But you kinda did. And-" he paused and swallowed, looking up at the ceiling to collect himself. "And I can't tell you how much I appreciate that."

"I didn't do it just for you," she said. "I did it for both of us. Don't let it go to your head," she uttered, shifting towards him and leaning her head onto his shoulder, finding herself perfectly made to fit into the contours of his frame.

Deeks eased his arm behind her pulling her closer.

It was a beautiful tableau, the two of them snuggled on his sofa, the TV muted and flickering in the background and Monty snoring from the plush dog bed in the corner. Her free hand had ventured out towards his and she found herself absently tracing lines on his palm.

"I didn't hate this weekend," she said softly. She felt him nod in agreement, knowing he'd translate her words into the more 'fun' verbiage any other woman would use to describe their jaunt up the coast. "If you ever wanted to go back, it would be easier to just go than dance on eggshells and make half-assed excuses about our where-abouts. God knows we both suck at defending our GPS locations to Nell."

Deeks' chuckle echoed under her ear.

"Kens?"

"Hmm?" she replied, never lifting her head.

She didn't need to hear the edge of nerves in his voice to know the weight behind his words. "I think I'd like to try to spend every weekend with you."

She felt her pulse skip. And again. She had to remind herself that breathing was a requirement.

In reality they had spent almost every weekend together for the last year, excluding her time chasing the White Ghost. His casual comment wasn't a giant lifestyle change for either of them. They were, for all intents and purposes, each other's 'plus one' for almost every life activity. They both knew it. But they never said anything.

She felt the tension ease through his frame and she realized her silence wasn't giving him any reassurance.

"How is that different from now?" she asked, hoping that the vulnerability wasn't obvious in her voice. "We're together every weekend. And almost every day after work, too."

He groaned and tipped his head back against the back of the couch, trying to decide if he wanted to backpedal.

"Exactly what kind of declaration of love do you want from me, Fern?"

She blinked and pulled back slightly, eyeing him with an odd mixture of disbelief and apprehension.

Love.

He had said the word. The damned word. The word that people in her life said but didn't mean. That thing that other people, normal people her age with normal non government agent jobs, normal lives - they got to have someone love them.

But not Kensi Marie Blye. She wasn't one of those girls who got love. She got Jack who disappeared. Her dad who was killed. And a handful of partners who tried to work out but...

He turned, catching her confounded look and finding it increasingly difficult to not burst into laughter. "Seriously?" He asked, unable to keep a chuckle from teasing its way out his throat. "You look like you're torn between fleeing in terror or that you don't believe me."

"I-" she blinked again and fidgeted, her body twitching as she fought the urge to get her feet under her and move off the couch. Away from him. Away from them. Away from this.

She managed to fight the urge. She didn't move. She stayed cradled against his side. And she felt the tension radiating off him.

Deeks sighed and ran a hand over his face in frustration. "Come on," he whispered, his voice muffled by his palm on his face. "Just forget it, Kensi" he sighed, his voice not hiding his hurt and disappointment.

She stilled at the sound of her name. Twice in one night he had called her Kensi. Not Fern. Not Kens. Not Kensalina. Not any of the other stupid ass names that she secretly loved.

She closed her eyes and allowed herself to drink in the moment.

Monty's snore tickled her ears. He shifted in his sleep, rolling over and causing a gentle rustle of the cedar-shaving-filled dog bed. The white-light of the tv flickered to their right, casting a gently moving glow across the room. Two sweating bottles of almost-forgotten beer sat on the end table. The cat-pillow was firmly against her lower back. Deeks' presence at her side was strong. His body-heat could be felt through her pant-leg.

There was nowhere in the world she felt more safe. There was no one in the world she trusted more.

His use of the 'L-word,' as he had called it, hadn't changed anything. They were still them. He wasn't going anywhere.

She turned back towards him to find him staring at the ceiling, every ounce of his body posture looking like a dog ready to be kicked out into the rainy night. God only knows why you love me but I'm going to try to not screw this up, she thought to herself.

"I don't want to forget it," Kensi sighed and shook her head. "I believe you," she managed to eek out around a lump that had formed unexpectedly in her throat. "And I don't want to flee in terror." She said, leaning back into his side, her head pillowed on his shoulder once more. "Exactly what kind of declaration of love do you want from me?"

The warm air of his sigh caressed her neck and his fingers closed around hers tightly. "That's perfect," he whispered, his lips caressing her crown. "That's all I need for now."

She felt his arm wind around her torso, pulling her snug against his now tension-free body.

She closed her eyes and relaxed back into him; into them.

So this is what it was going to be like from now on. No deflecting. No dancing. No misdirection. No Armor.

It was about time.