Balance

A/N: Follows the line of the original series, only Kensi and Deeks are still not together.

Disclaimer: I don't own them. No really, I don't. No need to sick Hetty on me.

Kensi

It's just a drink. Nothing more. Nothing to get yourself worked up about. He's just having a drink with her. Because you all closed another hard case together and the whole team needs to unwind. The fact that none of the other team members are there doesn't make any difference. He's entitled to have a drink. And you shouldn't feel all hot and bothered about it. After all, they did invite you; you were the one who declined, rather clipped off even.

You've never been good at being the third wheel. Heck, you're not even good at being the second wheel, come to think of it. So you shouldn't have been so surprised or even hurt when your (so much more than just a) partner did not decline Talia's offer for a drink after work.

Yet, you were both. Hurt, surprised and a lot more. Angry, worried, jealous. Pretty much every emotion a love-struck teenager feels and you swore you would never feel again after Jack, and most certainly not directed in any way at a snooty DEA officer who snagged away your partner.

Your partner. Your Deeks. Because obviously Deeks is yours.

Only except for the fact he isn't. He could have been, though. God knows you want him to be. But both God and Deeks (and probably the whole team, now including Talia) know that you can't get yourself to take that next step, do something about it once and for all.

You almost did. Almost. At the ice rink, just before Christmas, but when he skated away from you, you lost your nerve and instead of confessing your feelings, you (again) retreated and when he asked you what it was you wanted to ask, you quickly came up with some lame question about Mammoth.

Yes, you did go skiing with him, couldn't get yourself to back down from that agreement, but instead of steaming lovemaking sessions in front of a roaring fireplace, you lurked in the doorway of the bedroom he let you have, watching him sleep on the pull-out bed and wishing you had the guts to follow your heart and slip in between the blankets with him. He wouldn't have turned you away and you know it. If only because you caught a glimpse of the box of condoms in his bag.

But you were too afraid. There were too many ghosts of Christmases past standing between you and they weren't Casper's friendly relatives either. Dealing with your demons is hard enough without dragging the other one down with you and you didn't want to be the one to run away from him like Jack once did from you.

Jack…it still all came back to him. The way he left you all these many years ago wasn't pretty, that much was for sure, but you're hardly the only woman scorned and Jack's hardly the first veteran trying to deal with PTSD in the aftermath of his military assignment. Neither one of you was prepared for the destruction it brought along and looking back, Jack's choice of protecting you against himself was not the easiest choice, but probably the best.

But you were never good at leaving well enough alone, so you never quite gave up on your quest for answers, for justification. And yes, you got your answers, finally, in a cave in Afghanistan, but instead of the peace of mind it was supposed to give you, it had given you even more to think about. Beginning with the fact that your reckless pursuit of said answers had triggered the need for Deeks to come to your rescue, again risking his very hide to save his damsel in distress. Which he did, no questions asked. Without hesitation. Showing again that your focus on a man of your past almost cost you the man who could become your future.

He's so much more loyal to you than the other way around. The fact that you know you should have stayed with him when you found him and Sam pooling in their own blood proof enough of that. The fact he has long since forgiven you even more.

And the fact he never questioned your actions in Afghanistan brought it home. Even if he retreated from your 'thing' after that.

So no, you couldn't and still can't take what you want, because you're a long, long way from deserving it. And he? He deserves everything, starting with a relaxed drink with a nice woman who likes him. And so much more than that.

So even if this 'just a drink' is the beginning of something more between them, you have no right whatsoever to interfere.

You won't. Whatever happens, you won't meddle. Won't show him your pain, won't be mean and petty. Won't hit him or punch him any more than you already do and won't pout when he chooses a date with her over pizza, ice-cream and a cheesy movie on his or your couch. Because that's not a date, no matter how bad you and he both might want it to be.

He'll still be there for you. He'll have your back like always. There's no doubt in your mind about that. Nothing will change your trust in each other. You're partners. And if that's all you'll ever be, you're going to have to find a way to be happy with that.

Groaning, you throw the last piece of cold pizza back in the box at your feet on the floor and take a sip of your lukewarm beer, feeling quite alone and deeply sorry for yourself. This whole self-sacrifice Mother Teresa thing is new to you and the feeling surrounds you like an ill-fitting shirt. A part of you (a very big part) wants to throw on some decent clothes and drive over to the bar Deeks mentioned he wanted to take Talia to and boldly stake your claim, but a promise is a promise, even if you made it to him only in your head.

He deserves this. And you won't interfere.

So you swallow the remnants of your beer and stagger over to your fridge for a new bottle. If they can have a drink, than so can you. All by your lonesome. You'll learn to appreciate it, even if it kills you.

Deeks

After going home to change out of your sweat and dirt soaked clothes and to walk Monty, you find yourself in one of your favorite watering holes. The pretty brunette you are supposed to meet there has already arrived and is keeping a bar stool empty for you. She too has changed into something different and you have to admit, she looks great. Her long hair is pulled up, showing an almost bare back, save for the strings that hold the flimsy top together. Her long, tanned legs are barely covered in a pair of teensy weensy hot pants. Killer heeled sandals and blood red painted toes complete the outfit.

Yes, your date (date? Really?) looks quite amazing and from the dazed look you spot in some of the other patron's eyes, you're not the only one who thinks so.

Of course, she's always beautiful. You love her wavy dark hair, her smile, her eyes…from the moment you met her…

You put a tentative hand on the small of her back and she stiffens for a split second, before your touch registers as familiar and welcome and she relaxes. She turns to greet you and a pair of warm brown eyes meet yours.

Matching brown eyes.

Talia.

Right…

Sweet Jesus, what's wrong with you that you forgot for a moment it was the DEA agent you agreed to meet? Sure, they could pass for sisters or cousins at least, but you're not so senile as to get the two of them mixed up as if they were identical twins, are you? Besides, Kensi declined the invitation in front of you and you do remember that.

If only because she declines most invitations these days…

There's this strange, empty feeling inside of you because of it and it started when you took her on your little Christmas skiing holiday. It was a fun trip, for sure, but it was also stilted, uncomfortable and simply weird. You haven't told her that you know she was standing there every night, in the shadows of her bedroom, watching you as you pretended to be asleep. For minutes she would stay there, not moving an inch, careful not to breathe too loud, not to be detected and called out.

It would have been so easy to lift the blankets, tilt your head, invite her in, but you knew you couldn't. This was her decision to make, her line to cross. Only she never did. And you think you know why.

Afghanistan.

Where her past, present and possible future collided with devastating results. The man she once loved coming face to face with the man she might love (or so you still hope) and having no explanation to give him as to how this situation seemed to have come about.

The confusion, laced with guilt about you having to come to her rescue (again), made for a very agitated Kensi and though you know and understand more than she thinks, you can't help her get past the idea that has latched itself inside her head ever since: That she's the cause of all your stress, all your nightmares, all your headaches.

In a way, she is. From the very first moment you were partnered up with her, her safety and wellbeing have taken precedence over yours. You have taken bullets for her and will continue to do so just to make sure she can live another day. And if that's not the single most selfish thing you ever did or do, you don't know what is.

Selfish, really? Why yes, of course! You hurt or sometimes even kill people (living, breathing human beings, sometimes not even too bad people) not to keep the city safe, but to keep her alive, because not having her around is simply not an option you can live with. So it does come back to your comfort. Ergo, keeping Kensi with you is selfish, just as she is being selfish by keeping her distance.

No wonder you need a drink.

No wonder you don't really want to have it with Talia. But no wonder you're going to have to settle for a Kensi knock-off, even if you know you're selling Talia off short when you think that.

She gives you a quick hug and motions for the bartender to take your order, having no problem getting his attention since she probably never lost it to begin with. An ice-cold beer of your preferred brand is put in front of you and you gratefully take a sip, ignoring the glass next to it.

"Glad you could make it, partner," Talia beams at you and you know she means it. You try and smile back, but quickly drown your none-convincing smirk in another gulp of beer.

After your second bottle, you feel yourself relax a little and when Talia takes your hand to drag you to the dance floor, you let her. She's a good dancer, her movements fluid and natural and all the men's eyes are drawn to her again, but try as you might (and god knows you are), she doesn't captivate you the way Kensi does….aaand here we go again.

The song changes into a slow tune and you feel Talia pull you closer. All you want is to allow yourself to take the bait, to have a night filled with passion with a willing hot brunette and not feel like a piece of shit when morning comes. Yet, you feel your spine tense and there's just no way that tonight will lead to anything, no matter how she drapes herself all over you.

"Talia, I…I'm gonna sit this one out, okay?"

You disentangle yourself from her grasp and stagger back to the bar, signaling for another beer. You expect the slightly tipsy agent to just keep dancing; with or without a stand-in. It's not like there aren't any other willing candidates. Instead, she declines all offers as she weaves her way through the crowds back to you, plopping herself on her stool again.

"Deeks…"

"I'm sorry Talia," you blurt out. Because you are. You're an ass for leaving her out there on the dancefloor. An ass and an idiot.

"Me too."

What?

"What for?"

"For not being her."

For a moment, you want to act ignorant, for a split second, you want to run, but what's the point, really?

"Wow, am I really that transparent?"

"Like glass, my friend. But thanks anyway."

"Again, what for?"

"For not fibbing me off. I'll be honest with you too, this is obviously not the outcome I'd hoped for, but I appreciate you not coming up with all kinds of excuses."

You nod and empty your beer, asking for a cup of coffee to clear your mind just a little.

"I don't get you, you know."

"Me and Kens, you mean?"

She nods.

"Well, that makes two of us. Or probably three."

"Okay, let's tally things up. One: you love her."

You nod, a long way past denial.

"Two: she loves you."

Does she?

"She loves you, Marty."

Damn, another woman who can read minds. Yet, this little class in calculus 101 stops here. One and one does not make two. There's no easy solution. Not even for Sam the math master.

"Doesn't change anything, Talia. She's too scared to give this a chance and I'm…I don't know. I'm tired of this stalemate, but somehow not yet ready to admit defeat. God knows I want her, but…"

Perhaps you should have asked for one more beer.

It remains silent for a while, but since it's not really an uncomfortable one, you don't feel the need to fill the void. Talia excuses herself for a moment and disappears into the ladies room. When she comes back out, there's a look of determination on her face.

"I ordered you a cab. The driver knows where he's supposed to take you. Just get in and get out when he stops."

"What…?"

"Just trust me."

Grabbing you by the lapels of your jacket, she drags you outside where, five minutes later, a taxi stops. Talia shoves you inside, hands the driver a couple of banknotes and tells him to take you to the agreed upon place. After receiving a nod of confirmation, she slams the door shut and the car takes off. You try and ask the driver where it is you're going, even showing him your gun and badge, but he merely nods and keeps his eyes on the road.

You give up after a while and sink back into the worn faux-leather.

Whatever. This night sucks anyway. Can't possible get any worse.

***KDKDKD***

Talia

Okay, so this is not the way you envisioned this night would end, but there's nothing you can do about that now. Oh, you're sure you could have gotten the hot detective drunk and desperate enough to end up in your bed tonight, but somehow, you couldn't make yourself do that. Not with Marty Deeks. He is a rare species these days: a genuine good guy. One who deserves more than being used to scratch an itch, whether consensual or not.

So yes, you're being a Good Samaritan, a fairy Godmother, matchmaker, Cupid or just a busybody, but you need to get things on track for him, because if he really needs to wait for his partner to get her head out of her ass, he'll be retired before she makes a move.

So you excuse yourself for a moment and head for the ladies room, where you call a taxi service you always use and trust. One call sends a taxi on its way to come and pick up Deeks, one more is sent on its way to go pick up his other reluctant half. Now comes the hard part; getting stubborn, scared Kensi to comply.

You send her a quick text.

Go put on something decent. A taxi is coming to pick you up in ten.

Her reply is immediate. And quite hostile.

Why? Where? And why?

You text back.

If you love him, you'll trust me. Get into the taxi.

Before she can answer, you send one more

You know who I'm talking about. Don't try to deny it.

It seems to take forever this time for her to answer, but you grin widely when she finally does.

Okay. But I'll kill you if this is a joke.

You text back one more time.

It's not. I promise you won't regret it.

It remains silent after that and you return to Deeks before he sends out a search party. After a quick explanation, you drag him outside, where, his taxi pulls up five minutes later. You pay the driver, shove the detective inside and close the door. As the taillights disappear, you send a prayer to whatever deity is awake tonight that you did the right thing.

With a smirk and a shrug, you get back inside. There was one guy on the dancefloor who didn't look too bad. Maybe you can play Cupid for yourself too.

The night's still young.

***KDKDKD***

Kensi

With your heart logged somewhere in the vicinity of your esophagus, you drop your phone to the couch and get up to change from your yoga pants and raggedy shirt into a short red dress and matching heels. Years of working undercover have taught you to get dressed with the speed of a supermodel and you instantly feel more confident not that you're all decked out.

Still, you're not quite sure if you can trust the DEA agent who seemed to be more than willing to take your partner off your hands earlier. For the life of you, you can't figure out why she would now lend your 'thing' a helping hand, but neither can you figure out what the catch could be.

Besides, what could happen to you? You never leave the house unarmed and even if you did, you could still take out the other woman with your bare hands. With or without Deeks' backup.

And there's the rub. Because even if you're not walking into some kind of trap, you know you can get hurt tonight. Your track record of miscommunication with your partner is proof enough of that. What will be so different this time?

Yet, you're as tired as you assume he is of this twirling around each other. Perhaps it is time to allow yourself to let go of some of the guilt you've been feeling. Taking all the blame might have felt like a selfless, righteous act when you started it, but all it does is render Deeks useless, incompetent to do anything else than your bidding. While in reality, he's so much more than your saving Grace. He's a grown man who doesn't mind taking full responsibility for his own actions and perhaps acknowledging that can finally balance the scale.

You didn't order him to come after you, just like you didn't order Callen and Sam to do the same. It was his choice to defy orders, defy Hetty and do what needed to be done. Like it was his own decision to come with you to Romania all these years ago. Come to think of it; he could have resigned and gone back to LAPD years ago.

But her stays. Taking on a lot more than his police academy training could have prepared him for. Taking for worse than the occasional beating, mostly to protect his partner.

He does so out of love for you, every time. And you can't deny him that love any longer.

Or yourself.

With a whole new kind of determination, you get into the taxi when it arrives, allowing the driver to pull into traffic without you even asking where he's taking you. All you know is, that Deeks is supposed to be there too.

And whatever will be said or done tonight, it will forever alter your life. Hopefully for the better, since you can't and don't want to image the worst.

Ten minutes later, the taxi comes to a stop and the driver gallantly opens the door for you, waving away your money as he's already been paid. You glance around to take in your surroundings and find yourself at a secluded part of the Santa Monica beach, just underneath the Pier; the twinkling lights of the Ferris wheel shining in the darkness when you look up.

Just then, you spot another figure sitting in the sand. A very familiar figure. You heave a sigh and put on a brave face.

You're ready for this.

Hopefully, he is too.

***KDKDKD***

Deeks

The foot of the Santa Monica Pier. As lively as it is above your head, that's how secluded this place is. You wonder why Talia picked this spot for…whatever reason she has sent you here. You trust her enough to not freak out and think of this as some kind of trap; yet you're glad to feel the familiar pressure of your Beretta tucked in the waistband of your jeans.

Looking around and finding yourself quite alone, you plop down in the sand, letting a handful of it sift through your fingers as you try to figure out what you're supposed to do next.

Someone is supposed to show up and you think you know who that person will be. What you're not so certain of is if this little intervention will make any difference for either you or Kensi. It's not like you haven't tried before.

But whenever you do, you always seem to end up in a maelstrom of innuendo and vague metaphors, meant to explain everything and ending up clearing absolutely nothing, only obscuring what should have been said in clear words long time ago.

No more, you decide. No more beating around the bush. You're done with frozen lakes, knives that aren't just knives, raccoons, third hearts and boxes within boxes. This night might end up in a complete disaster and if it does, then you'll resign your position at both NCIS and LAPD and take the offer of a friend made to you long time ago to become a private detective in his firm.

If it doesn't…well, let's not get your hopes up. You haven't played this game alone, haven't danced this dance solo and a lot of what is going to be said or done tonight lies in her hands.

But oh how you wish…

And then, silently and suddenly, you feel a presence behind you.

Kensi has arrived. Here goes nothing…

You turn and pet the sad next to you and she takes it as an invitation to sit down. She shivers a little and you immediately shrug out of your jacket to hand it to her, noticing for the first time how awesome she looks tonight.

Awesome and terrified.

She mumbles a thank you and you smile a little when you notice her inhaling your scent as she wraps the material around her smaller frame.

"So…"

"So…"

"Your date with Talia…"

You smirk. "Kinda ended differently than I had expected."

She doesn't ask you what you had expected instead, which might be a wise thing to do, because you're not sure what your answer would be. You have no idea what you had in mind when you agreed to have a drink with her after a long day of chasing the bad guys.

"Talia tricked you into coming here?"

You nod.

"Shoved me in a taxi without warning."

"Me too. All I got was a text."

"Thanks…for getting in."

"Didn't leave me much choice."

"Why not?"

She doesn't answer, simply pulls out her cell phone and hands it to you.

"Read for yourself."

Your eyes scan the messages and what you read between the lines, makes your heart skip a beat before pounding a little faster, hope flooding your system

If you love him, you'll trust me. Get into the taxi.

You know who I'm talking about. Don't try to deny it.

Don't try to deny it. And Kensi didn't. She didn't deny she loves you, not even to a woman she might have grown a lot less weary of, but who could still be considered a rival.

Does that mean…

"So you got in because…"

"Because…"

Say it. Please, say it.

She swallows, looks away for a moment to regain some of her composure, than looks back. In a flash, you think about earlier this evening, meeting Talia's gaze and feeling the disappointment seeping through you at the sudden realization that your subconscious had expected to see another set of eyes. Now, the right eyes are looking straight at you and you hold your breath for what they convey.

Yes, there's fear and trepidation and a silent plea for patience and understanding, but there's something lurking in the background too.

Hope. Determination. And love. Oh yes, there's love and you're sure it's not just wishful thinking.

"Because what Kensi?"

She sighs.

"Because I'm tired, Deeks. I didn't deny Talia's statement because I couldn't. I was jealous of her all night, taking away my partner, but I was even more angry with myself, because I let her. I…I rejected you so many times, dismissed you so many times that I can't blame you for wanting to go out with anyone else, but…"

Her bottom lip starts to quiver and she wipes a few tears away from her cheeks. Taking another deep breath and pulling your jacket even closer to her body, she continues.

"I don't want you to date someone else. I want to be your partner in every way possible, inside and outside of work. I tried my hardest not to want you, not to need you, scared that one of these days my actions would get you killed, but I'm so freaking tired of denying myself and you what we both want…unless…"

"Unless?"

"Unless it's too late. And you don't want me anymore. Even if you ever wanted me to begin with."

How could she possible think that? You take her hand in your own and bring her fingers to your lips. The small gesture extracts a gasp from her lips and sets her eyes ablaze.

"I wanted you from the moment I met you and that feeling has only grown stronger with every day I get to work with you, hang out with you and see your smile."

"So now…"

"Now we do this…"

You don't give her a chance to question your statement as you gather her into your arms and capture those sweet, warm lips with your own. This time, you're sure she shivers with delight as she leans in closer so you can deepen the kiss.

You want nothing more than to get her into a taxi and take her home, but quickly decide against it. She's sexy, beautiful and finally yours, but not that she is, you're in no hurry to get her into bed. Kensi deserves a lot more. A man to wine and dine her properly and show her off.

So instead, you walk arm in arm up to the pier, where you kiss her again as the Ferris wheel cart reaches the top, hanging there for a few seconds in perfect balance…

The same balance you finally found with her.

THE END

Epilogue:

A few hundred yards in front of you, a blond shaggy man and a slim brunette are entangled in each other's embrace and if it stings a little, you remind yourself you made the right decision.

A buzz brings you out of your reverie and you take out your phone to read the message in the twinkling lights of a hot dog stand.

It's from Kensi. All it says is: Thank you.

You smile and shrug away any leftover sadness. Your time will come and when it does, you can only hope it'll be as great a love as these two share.

Reviews, as always, much appreciated. Thanks for reading!