A/n Since I can't keep multi-chaps going for the life of me, I figured I'd organize my drabbles and post them on here. If you follow my blog, you've probably already read a majority of what I'll be posting, but I'm going to add a few short stories. Rating should stay around T, if it doesn't, I'll add a warning in the author's note. Enjoy.
- Cierra

It's the first time she calls him by his first name. It's also the first time she feels his hair, really feels it. She's resisted the urge to run her fingers through it for years, and the strands feel like silk against her palm, much softer than she expected.

He tells her that he's falling in love with her after he guides her to his room, lays her down on the bed. She kisses him and wants to tell him that she loves him too but can't. Not because she doesn't, but because he's braver than she is.

Her bare chest brushes his as she inhales, and he touches her jaw, runs his thumb over her bottom lip. She knows what's coming and she almost wants to tell him to slow down–it escalated so quickly; she needed him and he needed her. But now she wonders if they should have taken more time to figure each other out.

It's not like she's going to say anything. She's shaking with anticipation, the want a persistent throbbing in her core. He sits back on his knees, his toes, and trails his fingers down her stomach, finding the smooth skin of her upper thigh. She touches his knuckles, following his movements, and tells him, "It's been a long time."

He laces his fingers between hers and guides her hand to his lips. He kisses her fingers and doesn't let go of her hand until she's saying his name, his first name, and making the most beautiful faces. He falls next to her and pulls her against his chest, kissing her hair, feeling her body tremble against his as she comes down. She tries to breathe and presses her forehead against his collarbone. She asks, "Why do I feel like we did something wrong?"

She feels him shrug, and she looks up at him. He takes advantage of her proximity, pressing his lips against hers, then to her neck. He smiles against the skin of her throat. "Don't choose," he tells her, and he says it simply, just like he did earlier.

"I want you, at work, as my partner. As my friend. As… this."

"You want me?"

God, yes. "Yeah."

"Say it."

He's so incredibly sexy sans clothes, with his blonde hair messed up, satisfied and cocky and smiling. "I want you, Deeks."

"So now I'm Deeks again?"

"Yep."

He kisses her lips. "Bet I can make you call me Marty."

She knows he probably can, but she can't tell him that. It'll take away the fun. Or some of it. "Doubt it."

The second time is slower. They both quenched their thirsts, and now it's less desperate. The frenzy's numbed to a buzzing excitement, a heat. They know that their expectations are going to be met, and their wants are exonerated, their nerve-endings kindled and sparking. She wakes up next to him, her legs tangled up with his, her head on his pillow. She's the first one up, but he opens his eyes when she stirs against him. He touches her hair and registers that his partner is naked in bed next to him. "Am I dreaming?" She pinches his chest. "Ow."

Her lips touch the place that she assaulted, and then she kisses his collarbone, trailing her lips to the scruff on his neck. She loves the feeling of his beard against her cheek, and she closes her eyes, presses the side of her face underneath his. Then she sits up, draws the blanket around her chest, throws her legs over the side of the bed. She's staring at a wall.

He inches his way over to her, laying a hand on her shoulder blade. "Why'd you stop kissing my neck?" he whines.

She shakes her head. "Something bad's going to happen."

His heart beats a little faster, because he feels it, too. He forces a tight-lipped grin. "Why do you say that?"

She looks behind her shoulder at him, and he sees her eyes, spiraling holes separated by her nose. A gold mine and a coal mine, emotion flowing beneath the exterior. "You're too good."

They shower separately. He scrounges his closet for a shirt that might fit her and gives up. They're running late so stopping at her place isn't an option. She's been quiet since she woke up, and he catches her hand before she walks out the door. "Hey."

"What?"

"I don't regret it. Okay?" He wants to kiss her, but he feels like he shouldn't. "Whatever happens, nothing's going to change how amazing last night was."

She smiles, but it barely touches her eyes. It's her only response. She walks out his door.