Disclaimer None of the characters are mine. Wish they were.

A/N What's in the box? Will we ever be satisfied with the answer?!

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It was the end of another long day. More bad guys, more bullets, more bruises. Three men, dirty, exhausted and emotionally drained, walked slowly to their desks. Each dropped roughly into his seat without looking or talking to the others. No-one knew what to say and the consequent silence was deafening. Some cases were more challenging than others and cases involving children were usually unpleasant. Cases involving children you were unable to save were the hardest of all.

"Beer? We need beer."

"I'm in Sam. You coming Deeks?"

"Think I'll pass."

"Come on man, you haven't been out with us in weeks. It's been a hellish day."

"Appreciate the offer Callen, but no. Thanks though."

"Deeks, you need to come have a beer with us."

"No Sam. That is not what I need."

Callen and Sam stole a quick glance at each other. Neither of them asked the young detective what he needed because they both knew. Everyone knew what Deeks needed, and not just tonight. They also knew there wasn't a damn thing they could do to give it to him.

"Ok man, we get it. If you change your mind, give us a shout."

"Thanks Sam. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Night Deeks."

"Night Callen."

The two older men grabbed their bags and shot their colleague sympathetic looks before heading towards the exit. Deeks smiled as he heard the Partners bantering together as they headed out the door.

"Partners," he mused. "Lucky them." He missed having Partner. He smiled ruefully and smoothed his hand over the blonde scruff on his cheeks. He didn't miss having a Partner. He missed having her as his Partner. "Actually, scratch that" he thought to himself. "I don't miss having her as my Partner. I just miss her."

He sighed, slowly and deeply, and slumped forward, elbows resting on his thighs, his face falling into his hands. He tried to steady his breathing, attempting to quell the rising feelings of anxiety and engulfing sadness.

It had been weeks. Weeks. And nothing, no news at all. No phone call, email, letter. Not even a text. Nothing. Nada. Zip. Where was she? What was she doing? Who was looking out for her? Was she safe? And, most importantly, when would she be home? Deeks' mind went into overdrive, a thousand questions surging forward. He clamped his teeth onto his bottom lip to stop it quivering. "Come on Deeks, man up. She wouldn't want you to fall apart."

He was worried that was exactly what was happening. She was his rock, his anchor. She had been the one to tether him to his sanity in the aftermath of Siderov's torture and without her, the task of continuing to heal was daunting and gruelling. She was God knows where, indefinitely. It was the indefinitely part that was killing him. He just needed to know when she would be home.

3 months? Reasonable. He'd find ways to pass the time - surf more, work hard, have drinks with the team maybe. 6 months? Fine. All of that plus he'd commit more time to the shelter, maybe actually do some of those personal development courses she was always nagging him about. A year? Ok. Maybe he'd learn another language, perhaps finally let Sam teach him some SEAL hand to hand combat techniques. More than a year? Geeze. What would he do? He could almost hear her voice. "You'll take it one day at a time."

He knew he would cope. He was a patient man and he would willingly wait for her to return, to him, regardless of the time that may take. He chuckled sombrely, "I've waited years already. I can wait a while longer." He just wanted to know how long his life would be on pause. If he had some, any, idea of her return date he could at least mark it on a calendar and count down the days. Even a rough estimate would be better than no idea at all.

He sank back in his chair, his manner defeated. He was fully aware of one person who held the answers to his questions, some of them at least. But she had resolutely refused to engage in any conversation about his Partner's classified mission or respond to the countless queries that exploded from his mouth every time he saw her.

Hetty. His face hardened, his mouth setting in a firm line and his brow furrowing at the mere thought of his boss. Hetty. He had thought she was on his side, in their corner. Hell, he'd even felt encouraged by her to push his partnership with Kensi to the next stage. He could not understand her behaviour, her reason for separating them so quickly without giving them the opportunity to achieve a balance between their professional and personal lives, or why she continued to add to his angst by not sharing any information about his Partner's whereabouts or wellbeing.

Deeks shook his head. He knew Hetty. He trusted her. There must be an explanation for her decisions. He was damned if he could come up with one though. He wondered if that was because all his exhausted and wretched mind could focus on was Kensi. Her smile, her laugh, everything. And the fact that she wasn't here. Where she belonged.

Long moments passed as Deeks sat in the dimly lit bullpen, staring at his Partner's desk, picturing her talking to him over piles of clutter, donut in one hand, twirling her pony tail with the other. He simultaneously smiled at the image he had conjured up and let out a small groan as a wave of loneliness, coupled with a deep longing to see her, talk to her, touch her, washed over him.

His mind continuously replayed the day she had been reassigned; the events, the actions, the conversations. Her punching him in the face had stunned him. It had been some time since he had seen that depth of anger in her eyes, particularly directed towards him. He had struggled to breathe as she'd described the frozen lake scenario. Her total sincerity as it became clear that he was her frozen lake, that a 'them' was what she desired most in the world, had momentarily lifted his spirits before the crashing realisation hit him that trying to cross a frozen lake would destroy you, as the ice cracked all around you, under your feet.

Deeks remembered how she had caught him off guard and instead of shattering his hopes, had in fact triggered feelings of elation as she categorically stated her intention to work things out, promising to talk about their thing. Despite his current gloomy mood, a grin broke across Deeks' face as he recalled how she had looked at that exact moment. Sure of what she wanted but a little nervous, shy even. Kensi Marie Blye, shy? He had drawn on every ounce of will power he possessed to walk away from her, back towards the ambulance rather than pull her towards him and kiss her senseless. The grin faded as regret hit him for not doing exactly that. What if he hadn't made it crystal clear that of course he would be patient with her? That he would do anything to make it work? What if she hadn't understood his true intentions? What if she had flown thousands of miles away with even the smallest doubt in her mind that he wasn't totally committed to her, their thing? Deeks' eyes closed as his mind continued to recollect and reflect. He was so absorbed in his thoughts he failed to realise he was not alone until a voice jogged him from his despondent trance.

"Good evening Mr Deeks".

Deeks' head snapped up as he saw the diminutive figure standing in front of him. "Hetty."

"You're still here."

He shrugged. "Nowhere else I need to be."

"You're thinking about Ms Blye?"

"Uh huh."

"You blame me for your current situation?"

"I don't really want to talk about it…"

"You are mad at me."

"Dogs get mad. People get angry."

"You are angry then."

"Yes, ok. I am angry. With you. You know how I feel about her, you've known for a long time. And you sent her away, just as we were trying to make our thing work. So I am hurt and worried and confused and, and, yes, angry that because of you I have no idea where she is or if she's safe or when she's coming home. And I'm angry that you won't alleviate any of my concerns by sharing even the smallest crumb of information about her mission with me."

"My intentions were honourable. You will have to trust that I always act in what I believe to be the best interests of my team."

"I was good. We were good. I was so close Hetty. So close to my life being really really good. But now I have nothing tangible at least, only hope, and whilst I'd like to say that I'm still your glass half full kinda guy, my glass is emptying fast."

The woman's features softened, almost imperceptibly as she heard the desolation in the young man's voice. "She did leave you something Mr Deeks, don't forget that."

Deeks' eyes flicked immediately to the knife next to his computer. It was her Dad's. He had almost refused to take it from her but had relented upon realising the magnitude of Kensi's gesture and what it represented. Now it lay on his desk, a reminder of a poignant moment between them.

"Sometimes a knife is just a knife."

"And sometimes it isn't. However, I wasn't referring to the knife."

Deeks' head followed Hetty's hand to where she was pointing. He glanced towards the window, at the tall shelving unit pressed against the wall. His eyes widened slightly and a look of comprehension crossed his features. Of course. The box. Kensi had given him the box months ago and it had remained unopened. If he was honest, he hadn't thought about the box much recently, certainly not to the same degree as when she first presented it to him. He genuinely didn't know what was in it and wasn't sure he wanted to. All he knew was that Kensi, who he wanted to understand him better than anyone else, thought she was giving him something he'd always wanted. And that, perversely, made him reluctant to open it. What if she was wrong? What if she had totally misjudged him? What if whatever was inside the box was a total let down? Therefore he had chosen to leave the box sealed and live with the mild curiosity that came with not knowing, but also the belief that everything he'd ever wanted had been given to him by the person he cared about most in the world, rather than assuage his inquisitiveness and deal with potentially unprecedented levels of disappointment.

He wondered if now was the best time to open it. He had always imagined that he would undo the box when Kensi was with him. At the very least he had expected to be able to phone her once he'd seen the contents, maybe to thank her or to tease her a little about what she'd given him.

Hetty started to walk out the bullpen, turning slightly to look at Deeks. "Open it. Open the box." Deeks looked from Hetty to the box and to Hetty again. He raised his eyebrows in a silent question. "Now is the right time Mr Deeks."

With that, Hetty stepped towards her desk, leaving Deeks sat at his, staring up at the box. "Don't be an idiot, go get the box." Deeks stood slowly, hooking his thumbs into the front pockets of his worn, pale denim jeans. He cleared his throat in an attempt to dislodge the knotted ball of nerves which seemed to have taken residence there. But he didn't move, his leaden feet refused to progress to the object in question. "Fetch the box," he told himself firmly. Gradually, Deeks advanced from behind his desk and shuffled, almost reluctantly, towards the shelves, his eyes never leaving the box. "Just take it off the shelf. You don't have to open it."

Hurriedly, before he could change his mind, Deeks reached up and grabbed the box, noting how light it was before placing it gently on his desk, next to the knife. Now he had two gifts from Kensi. The box. And the knife. His gaze shifted between the two items and before he had time to question himself, he picked up the knife and removed its cover. He deliberately manoeuvred his hand so that the knife rested against the seal on the top of the box and then hesitated. He exhaled loudly and focussed on steeling his nerves and quivering hands.

"Just open the box. She gave it to you; she wanted you to find out what was in it." And with that thought in mind, Deeks took a deep breath and nicked the tape with Kensi's knife. Swiftly he sliced the entire way along the tape and lifted the two edges of the box apart, all the time taking care not to actually look into the package. So there he stood, knife in one hand, the other rubbing the scruff on his cheeks, the box open, gathering his courage to look inside.

"Come on Marty, just look. What's the worst that could happen? So what if it's not exactly what you were hoping for. It's still a gift from Kensi, right? And she gave it to you months ago, she knows you better now so would it really be such a disappointment if she'd got it wrong back then?" Deeks battled to convince himself he wasn't actually bothered what was in the box but despite his best efforts, groaned aloud in frustration, recognising that he was desperate for it to be exactly what she'd promised, "something that he's always wanted, more than anything else in the world."

"Ok, you can do this. Just take a look." Deeks returned his trembling hands to the top of the box and gingerly prised the severed cardboard apart. He peeked inside, his eyes fixing on its contents, glimpsing his prize for finally being brave enough to open the box. He reverently lifted it out and placed it delicately on his desk, staring intently at it whilst blinking back the tears which were rapidly pooling in his eyes. He exhaled loudly, letting out the breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding for so long. He widened his stance, trying to steady his shaking legs and slid a hand into his blonde hair as his emotions threatened to overwhelm him.

"Wow." He murmured. "This, this changes everything." Deeks dragged his chair towards him without taking his eyes off the gift and sat down heavily, not moving for several moments, just staring at the object on his desk. For perhaps the first time in his life he was genuinely stunned into silence, speechless.

"Life doesn't get any better than this moment, right now 'cause everything I ever wanted was inside this box," he whispered softly.

Kensi had been right. She had been 100%, totally, absolutely, correct. Deeks was blown away that she had known back then what he wanted the most, yet she had never said. She had waited patiently for him to be ready to open the box and now, now she wasn't there to see the impact of what she had given him, to understand the consequences. Being unable to share all the emotions that were running wild in his mind, his heart, with her was exasperating. He wanted her to know, to truly comprehend what her gift had meant to him, how much he valued it and its significance. It seemed so unfair, so wrong that she wasn't aware of its effect.

"I can make it right." He stated loudly. Pushing up and away from his desk, striding further into the mission he yelled, "Hetty. Hetty."

"Is there something I can do for you Mr Deeks?" Hetty's face showed mild curiosity combined with the slightest smile.

"There is. I need a favour. A big one."