Title: No Secrets Between Partners
By: Jessica
Pairing: Kensi/Deeks
Rating: T
Timeline: Post 2x12; Overwatch.
Summary: She won't admit it, but she doesn't want to be alone. He doesn't admit it, but she knows anyway – he needs to know that she's okay. They might try to keep their secrets, but in the end, they know each other better than anyone else could ever hope to.
It's only when she's damn sure that she's alone that she lets herself acknowledge the pain.
She's alone in the darkness, the solitude of the empty Ops center. Sam has long since gone home, as have Eric and Nell. Hetty and Callen are in the gym. Deeks is…well, she's never really sure where Deeks disappears to whenever he disappears – she tries not to think about that too much anyway. She's trying not to think about much of anything right now, truthfully, because she's got a splitting headache and all she wants to do is close her eyes and sleep for about sixteen hours straight.
Certainly, Kensi's no stranger to pain, but that doesn't mean she doesn't feel it. And feel it she does, all over her tired body. Briefly she thinks it must be retribution for all the damage she's inflicted on various cars over the years; then again, she's certain the aesthetic damage she's caused is nowhere near deserving of the agony currently consuming every inch of her being. Fueled by adrenaline and determination at the time, she'd rebounded right after impact and continued her chase; now, though, she's feeling everything.
Aside from her pounding head, there's a slowly intensifying, throbbing ache in her side; she's pretty sure she's got one hell of a bruise, but stubbornly she's refused to even look. What doesn't ache from the impact with the car itself aches from where she'd found herself thrown to the pavement; thankfully, minor scrapes on her hands from that secondary impact are all that she can't fully conceal.
If she doesn't think about the pain, it's not quite so bad.
She's fine, really.
Probably be sore as hell in the morning, but Kensi can handle that. Probably won't even change her morning workout routine.
The sound of approaching footsteps leads her again to try and ignore the pain, lest anyone deem her incapable of doing her job. She's almost ninety-eight percent sure no one here actually would, though; it's herself she needs to convince. She carries a few too many scars from too many recent cases – today, with the car, and the bump on her head she'd received on Christmas Eve being just a couple of examples she'd like to forget…examples she'd like everyone to forget or, in the case of the former, never find out about to begin with.
So she straightens up, forcing a smile to her lips in place of the wince of pain she wants to give as her aching muscles protest her movement. There's really only two people the footsteps can belong to, she thinks, and if it were Hetty, Kensi knows she wouldn't be hearing the footsteps at all - Hetty would have snuck up on her before Kensi even knew anyone was nearby. So it has to be Callen; probably a rather confused Callen still trying to figure out just how Hetty had beaten him to the top of the rock wall. A teasing lilt to her voice, she calls out into the darkness. "So, who won, Cal – oh."
She's momentarily surprised when the owner of the footsteps finally rounds the corner and steps into her line of sight, his unruly blonde hair obviously not Callen's. "Well don't sound so disappointed," he quips.
Kensi chuckles, ignoring the slight burst of pain that shoots through her abdomen. "Well, well. If it isn't Dolphin D," she teases.
Lifting a hand, Deeks scratches nonchalantly at the back of his neck. "Took you all evening to come up with that one, yeah?" he retorts, a decidedly playful grin at his lips.
"Don't even try to act like D-Unit is any better," she throws back. "Or D-Rock, or any of the other absurdities that came from the scary place that is your head. At least mine makes sense."
Deeks nods slowly, seemingly deep in thought for a short moment. "Alright, I'll give you that," he accedes, though before Kensi can say anything, that smirk of his is back in place. "Dolphins are some of the smartest creatures there are, you know." He pauses for a moment, watching Kensi roll her eyes before continuing. "Plus, everybody loves dolphins. Everybody."
"Oh. My mistake, then," she says sweetly. "I guess it doesn't fit at all."
He takes a step toward her before leaning casually against the wall just a couple of feet away from her. "Yeah. That's cute. You, acting like you're immune to the charm," he smirks, lazily waving a hand in what Kensi guesses is supposed to be an illustration of said charm.
Eyes sparkling with amusement, she mimics the action. "Yeah. So charming, that. You're right, I just can't resist," she deadpans.
He's not deterred by her sarcasm; he rarely is. "Just admit it – you love me." He grins wickedly. "Fern."
Despite herself, she gives a snort of laughter. "Don't you dare, Deeks."
"What, you prefer Kiki now? I know you loved that one, thought it was the most clever thing you'd ever heard…"
"Right."
Her laughter spurs him on; he's discovered it's one of his favorite sounds, and he can't help but feel pretty accomplished whenever he's the one to make her laugh, which she says is really not so often but he's the one who knows the truth. "Or maybe, in light of recent events, we should go with Sweet Tooth Kensi…or Thievery McBlye –"
"Wait, McBlye?" She giggles.
He waves that off. "Creative license – it sounds better, but that's not important. What's important is that I've been keeping close watch on my secret stash of various tasty Little Debbies and someone has been depleting them – I finally know who it is."
He sounds so triumphant in his discovery that Kensi can't help but dissolve into a full-blown fit of laughter. "Brilliant work, Detective," she quips, emphasizing the first syllable and even though she knows that nickname is just as lame as any of the others, she can't help but feel just a bit clever – she might lack his overall wit, but she's just as quick as him and can still go head-to-head with him in a verbal sparring match.
But any cleverness she feels quickly fades away as her laughter dissipates. She draws in a deep breath, the action sending a sharp, lightning-like dagger of agony through her abdomen. Though it shouldn't be, it's unexpected; it catches her off-guard and Kensi can't help but give a soft yelp of pain.
Deeks is in front of her instantly, his hands at her shoulders as she winces in pain before him. "Kensi?"
She tries to wave it off, despite already knowing that trying is useless, especially with Deeks. "You shouldn't have made me laugh," she says in what could have been a tone of accusation, but falls somewhere just a few steps above a whimper. That just alarms him more, and she closes her eyes, knowing she's going to have to wait for the pain to fade. "I – I'm fine," she says after a moment, ever mindful of his grasp on her upper arms. She repeats herself once, then twice, mostly in an effort to convince Deeks because she knows that she's okay.
The playful spark has disappeared from his eyes, as well as from his voice – despite everything, she has to give him credit: he knows when to lose the sarcasm and adopt a more serious demeanor. She just wishes it weren't in response to her, though. "What's going on, Kens?"
She shakes her head dismissively. "Nothing. I just…may or may not have run into something when we were chasing suspects all over Venice earlier."
He lifts a brow. "Something? You mean something like a person? A building? A – a fruit display?" he presses, and in that moment, Kensi wants to hate him because of course she's going to fall victim to those eyes of his; she doesn't want to admit that she's in any way hurt, but right now she doesn't see any way around it because if anything, Deeks is persistent. He'll break her down and fight his way under his skin like he's done so many times before, and he'll stay there until she tells him exactly why she's hiding in the dark, why it currently hurts to breathe, what exactly happened in Venice earlier that afternoon. And worst of all - or best, she doesn't really know - those eyes of his will draw her right in. She has to be careful; she's developed a weakness for those crystal blues and they can have her spilling her every secret if she's not careful. She refuses to linger on just how many of those so-called secrets he probably already knows and instead focuses on breathing, working her way through the burst of pain.
Instinctively, Deeks lays a hand over hers at her stomach; briefly she thinks maybe she should push him away, but she doesn't. Doesn't, because no matter what her head is saying, no matter what amount of pain she's currently in, she's suddenly feeling the little flutter of her heart alongside all of that. She's slightly dazed by the time she answers him, but doesn't know if that's because of the pain – which is thankfully beginning to ease a bit – or if it's all to do with his proximity to her. "It, uh, may or may not have been a car…which may or may not have been moving at the time…"
He draws in a sharp breath and gently squeezes her hand. "May or may not have been?"
For a moment, she closes her eyes. "Okay. It was. I was following you; I was a little bit behind, and this guy came out of nowhere. I saw him coming toward me, and –" She shudders, almost as though recalling for the very first time what exactly had happened – then again, it's not as if she's spent much time since then thinking about it. "Oh my God, I stopped running right in front of him. I just stopped."
"Understandable," Deeks supplies quietly. "You were caught off-guard."
It does little to comfort Kensi. "Which is exactly what we're trained not to be."
He's trying not to be too concerned because she is standing right in front of him; she literally walked away from whatever had happened earlier…but then again, it's Kensi, and he knows she'd get up and walk away from any accident unless she was physically restrained from doing so. So even though he tries not to worry, he fails, because she is standing right in front of him when he thinks maybe she should be resting somewhere, if not in a hospital bed for observation – he's not stupid enough to suggest that to Kensi Blye, though – then at least at home in her own bed. He fails, because she's clutching her stomach and breathing as though afraid every breath will send that fiery burst of pain through her body again.
When she speaks again, Deeks has the impression that she can read his mind. "I'm fine," she insists yet again. "Just a bit bruised, I think. I'm not dizzy, I'm not pale, I'm not sick to my stomach. I just…it just hurts. That's all."
"Uh-huh," he answers noncommittally, and Kensi can tell that he isn't really hearing her at all. His hand drifts from hers until his palm is flat against her stomach, and Kensi stiffens immediately – it doesn't go unnoticed by Deeks. "Tell me…does this hurt?" he asks, and before Kensi can ask what he means, he's placing just the slightest bit of pressure on her abdomen – just the slightest bit, but enough to elicit a quiet whimper from her. "Guess that's a yes…"
She's more surprised than hurt, but she doesn't admit either aloud. At the moment, she's kind of mesmerized because along with the surprise and the pain, there's a fire beneath his touch that she'd never really expected to feel, and suddenly her heart is working overtime, beating furiously against her chest because she's realizing for the first time that she's never really been this close to him, well, except for one other time, and she'd come damn close to kissing him then. And now she's feeling that same exact urge and barely hears as he quietly calls her name, once, then twice before her eyes refocus on him again. "What?" she asks, her dry voice sounding so foreign to her own ears.
She almost laughs then, wryly entertaining some absurd wish that the dizziness she feels now did stem from some sort of internal bleeding – at least she could head to the hospital and get that fixed. This…well, she doesn't know the first thing about fixing this because it's everything she's avoided feeling for so many years. Maybe, and she chooses to try and ignore this for the time being, she doesn't want to fix this.
His voice reaches her ears again, and even though it's little more than a whisper, Kensi's fairly certain she heard it waver – doesn't quite understand why, though, until she realizes his fingers have grazed the bottom hem of her blouse. "May I?" His eyes are locked with hers, giving her the impression that he's seeing right through her, that he knows exactly what he will find if she grants his request, but despite the uninvited invasion of her soul, she can't make herself look away. She can't break that contact; she can't pull herself out of the deep ocean that is his eyes.
And stormy those eyes are right now, suddenly filled with concern and worry and so many others that Kensi hates…usually. She can't summon it right now, though; can't summon the will to do anything more than nod and try, try to keep her breathing even.
His fingers curl slowly in the edge of the material and quite suddenly, Kensi thinks she might simply collapse to the ground. His closeness is overwhelming; the level of intimacy is overwhelming, and Kensi swallows hard, trying to will her heart to stop pounding, her stomach to stop fluttering. It doesn't work.
Gingerly he draws the fabric upward, revealing no more of her than he's already seen in the gym on the mornings he's caught her during her morning workout. It's enough, though, and the garish, deep purple mottling on the otherwise taut, perfect skin of her abdomen has him drawing in a sharp breath. "Whoa," he breathes. "That looks…" He doesn't finish, merely shaking his head instead. "Are you sure you're okay?"
Kensi ignores the question; God, she hates that question. "It's not really…" Her voice falters then as his fingertips slowly brush along the outline of her bruising, his touch simultaneously light as a feather and intense as a flame. Her partner, his hands on her…it's a decidedly unsexy situation but even so, Kensi's suddenly short of breath, gasping for it but finding herself denied. It's all she can do not to squirm; all she can do not to whimper. It's all she can do not to throw her arms around his neck and kiss him like she's wanted to do since that day the Russians had taken her. Somehow, it all seems to come back to that, the first and only time she's found herself in his arms and before she can stop that dangerous train of thought, she's wishing she could feel that again.
Shaking her aching head slightly, she attempts to force all thought of that from her mind; she forces herself to try to ignore the mesmerizing touch of his fingers. "I – I bruise easily," she says finally, feeling the smallest jolt of electricity course through her as his eyes meet hers again. "Remember my forehead? After Talbot – Christmas Eve? I was fine, but that bruise came up fast and stuck around for days." She chuckles, albeit a bit uneasily. "It hurts, yeah. It hurts like hell. It's probably not even the only bruise I'll have by morning. But it's nothing. I'm fine."
She sees the skepticism in his eyes; knows he doesn't entirely believe her. But with her own eyes she wills him not to push – that she doesn't quite have the energy for tonight. After a moment, he gives a slight nod. "Only you," he says, and Kensi's not quite sure whether she's hearing amusement or awe in his voice. Maybe a little bit of both. "Most people end up in the morgue when they run out in front of a car. Or at least in the hospital. But you…you get up and not only walk away, you run after me all the way out to the canal."
"It's not like it actually hit me," she says, watching Deeks lift a brow in question. "Yeah, I was stunned. Yeah, it caught me off-guard. But I kind of…I jumped at the last second – I knew if I didn't, I'd likely end up with my legs broken." She pauses, swallowing hard. "So really, it's more like I landed on the hood of the car, and the momentum threw me to the ground. I was shaken…but I was fine. I am fine."
Again he shakes his head, and when he speaks this time, Kensi knows she's hearing awe in his voice. "What are you, like Super-Kensi or something?" It's only at that point that she realizes his other hand has fallen innocently to her hip; Deeks, though…Kensi's not sure he realizes it. But she certainly does; oh, she does, and she kind of hates herself for the way her breath catches, because she's sure there's no way he doesn't notice that. He's barely inches away from her; he can't not notice it.
And with one look in his eyes, she knows he's noticed. Knows he's finally realized just how close he is to her; knows he's finally realized that he's got one hand on her hip and the other against bare skin; knows that he's finally realized that her heart is pounding, her head is spinning, and she wants his lips against hers more than she can possibly want anything else right now.
Actually, she's not entirely sure he does realize that last part just yet – but if it's not crystal clear to him in the next few seconds, he'll never get it. Lifting a hand to his stubbled cheek, she catches the brief look of surprise in his blue eyes just before her lips find his. It's surprise that doesn't linger, though, because he hesitates only a second before he's kissing her back, before she's forgetting the pain that had been plaguing nearly every inch of her body and focusing in solely on the feel of his lips on hers, the electricity jumping between them, the desire that sparks within her as he nips playfully at her lower lip, blurring the line between slow and cautious and intense and hungry. Either way, she's certain it's about as damn near perfection as it can get, the way his mouth melds with hers, the steady give-and-take, the subtle battle for control that mirrors most of their verbal encounters.
She's not sure at what point they finally break apart; all she knows is that, as he draws back, all she wants is more. It's like she's tasted enough to find herself addicted and, right now, she can't even find the will to hate herself for that, nor for the bit of weakness she shows as she draws her tongue over her lips, sighing softly at the lingering taste of him. She's also not sure how much time passes before the silence is broken – by him, of course, because she's still attempting to sift through the haze that has flooded her mind.
He grins, that maddening grin that just makes her want to kiss him again. "So, uh…I think you just made it weird for me to marry your daughter in twenty years," he quips, lightly touching his forehead to hers before finally taking a step back.
With that simple, teasing comment, she feels the lingering tension break away and Kensi can't help but laugh. "Yeah. Because there was nothing weird about it before."
Deeks smirks, though he says nothing else before his expression grows serious once more. Reaching out to her, he briefly touches his fingers to her elbow, and she can hear the question before it even leaves his lips. "You okay?"
She's not entirely certain about what he's asking, but then again, whether he's asking if she's okay physically or if she's okay with them, the answer remains the same. So she nods softly, a genuine smile playing at her lips. "Yeah."
He returns her smile, but only for a moment is it innocent; after that, that familiar devilish glint flickers through his eyes just seconds before he speaks again. "You know," he says, "I was going to ask before if you needed me to kiss you better, but I thought that might've been in bad taste…"
Biting back her laughter, Kensi instead attempts to glare at him; she doesn't want to think about how badly it fails. "Okay. That's it," she says, grabbing her purse. "I'm going home."
It's an empty threat because they both know she's not going home alone. That's something that started long before tonight; it's something that started with her concerned partner not wanting her to be alone after the ordeal with the Russians, something that continued on Christmas Eve as the trust between them continued to grow, something she's been grateful for each time, his company. She won't admit it, but she doesn't want to be alone. He doesn't admit it, but she knows anyway – he needs to know that she's okay.
She knows she could jump in her car right now and head home, and he'd be at her door within the hour, a box of Ding-Dongs in his hand. As wary as she was at first, she's grown to love how well he knows her – but that's another thing she won't admit. Not yet, anyway. Someday, maybe.
Grinning, he watches in amusement as she walks away from him. "Oh, come on," he protests, following after her. "I thought it was clever."
"Yeah, well, you thought D-Unit was pretty clever too."
"Not clever." He snickers. "Delicious."
Stopping briefly, Kensi glances to him, rolling her eyes at the obviously pleased grin on his lips. "Seriously, Deeks? Seriously?" Shaking her head, she turns away and heads once more toward the exit, hiding the smile that's tugging at her lips. "I'm so not answering my door tonight."
But he's ready for that one too, not that she'd ever expected otherwise. Lazily draping an arm around her shoulders, he effortlessly falls into step with her, offering a playful wink in response to her lifted brow. "Then I guess it's a good thing I'm taking you home tonight."
She won't admit it just yet, of course, but she's glad for that.
She's certain he's knows too.
They might try to keep their secrets, but in the end, they know each other better than anyone else could ever hope to.