It was easily the most fucked up relationship of her life, if Kensi Blye could even call it that. She hardly knew his last name, only knew his first because it was what she screamed into the nights when he brought her to heights of passion she'd never truly reached before.

It was coincidence that brought her to that café at two in the morning, desperate to escape her waking nightmares after yet another night insomnia; painful realizations and heartbreaking truths making sleep an impossibility.

The comfort of doughnuts and caffeine called her to the café, the man with shaggy blonde hair and a smile filled with a sadness that only reminded her of the the pain aching in her chest that made her linger, staring at the man for far longer than what was considered polite acknowledgement. It was his smile when he noticed her intense gaze, a real one with a flash of white teeth and a warmth that light up his surprisingly attractive features that made her return for a second time, just the next night when the fear of nightmares and the simple, false promise of seeing that smile again called her back to the twenty-four hour café.

...

"And you are?" A voice came from behind her, a drawl that might have irritated her some time ago, but now made her skin hum as she turned around, bracing herself against the counter.

"Could ask you the same thing. You stalking me, Shaggy boy?"

He huffed a laugh then, scratching nervously at the mop of blonde curls on his head. "Not quite, I'm, uh. I'm Marty."

"Hmm." Kensi nodded, lifting her eyebrows slightly. "Nice to meet you, Marty. I think."

In response his eyebrows flew up and his nose scrunched up in way Kensi didn't dare think was adorable. "You're not-"

"Orders up." The bored voice of the young girl behind the counter cut off his impending words as she slide two coffees and a surprisingly large plate of chocolate frosted doughnuts towards them.

"Looks like I ordered too many." Deeks said a small smirk. "You wanna help me take care of that?"

Rolling her eyes, she plucked the paper cup of coffee from the counter, holding it gently in both palms. "Why not?"

His answering grin made something deep inside her swell, flooding her with warmth that pushed at her barriers, threatening to overcome her usual pain caused by the horrors of her job and loneliness of her life, if just for a moment.

"I'm-" She hesitated, biting her bottom lip lightly. "I'm Kensi."

"Kensi." He repeated slowly, resting the chocolate covered treats on a table near them. "So doughnuts are the way to your secrets huh?"

She shrugged. "I guess."

"Guess I'll just have to keep buying them for them for you."

...

She wasn't sure when their midnight conversations and small confessions that they'd never told anyone else led to his mouth covering hers, pressing her to the back of his apartment door as she whimpered, stroking the small of his back under his shirt; it was a hazy pathway that was damn sure, but she never spent the night, never dared to cuddle up to his side or even let him inside her own place, terrified of roots that could be torn away.

So she'd run, struggle out of his attempted embraces late in the night and dress quickly, desperate to leave before he woke with saddened, deep blue eyes and his lips pressed into a think line.

Only to see him again the next night, sitting at what was quickly becoming their table with a double order of chocolate doughnuts and coffee exactly the way she liked it.

...

"Why do you care?" She murmured one night when her appetite failed her, staring across the table to the man who'd somehow become her confidant and best friend in just a month's time, lessening her pain and making it easier for her to smile her coworkers who just stopped by, eager to know if she was ready to return to work after her botched mission in Afghanistan.

Marty sighed, too deeply invested to give her a simple, joking answer, too worried about her, them to ignore the question.

"Why do you? Screwed up Detective moaning and whining about how he can't handle deep covers anymore."

"Marty, I-"

"We listen, right?" He interrupted. "That's what we do."

Nodding, she brushed a stray tear from the corner of her eye. "Thank you. For that."

His hand made its way across the table, snatching up her own and squeezing her fingers tightly. "I care, Kensi."

She nodded again, acknowledging his words and letting him intertwine their fingers on the table's surface.

That night she stayed, dressing early in the morning, but letting him make her breakfast, petting the scruffy mutt he affectionately introduced as Monty.

...

"I'm sorry," he whispered, late on a Tuesday night, his chest pressed firmly to her naked back and his finger stroking the soft skin of her abdomen.

Focusing her eyes on the Sig resting on his nightstand, Kensi sighed, holding his fingers still; she'd returned to Ops days ago, but the insomnia still lingered, only he did too.

"For?"

"I don't know." He shrugged awkwardly against her, drawing her closer. "I lov-"

She turned swiftly, molding her lips to his before he could complete the sentence, before it became real.

Still he forced her back, his eyes insistent. "I love you, Kensi."

She stiffened against him, concentrating on the beat of his heart against her chest and the snuffling of Monty at the foot of the bed rather than his words, rather than the fact that every instinct in her body should be screaming at her to run, but instead all she wanted to nestle herself further into him, anything to escape reality, though a reality filled with him seemed to make something inside of her work better, be stronger.

Nuzzling her face deep into the crook of his neck, Kensi sighed, breathing him in deeply. "Okay."