Title: Let Go
By: Jessica
Pairing: Kensi/Deeks
Rating: T
Timeline: Post 3x07, Honor.
Summary: "I think you're afraid of not being in control." KD.

A/N: Many, many thanks to the awesome gf7 for thoughts and advice and encouragement, because without that, this probably would have never seen the light of day, lol. So thanks for that. :) And thanks to everyone else for reading!

She approaches quietly, the soft crunch of gravel beneath her feet completely muffled by the gentle crash of waves along the shoreline, just mere footsteps away. It's nothing if not a beautiful day; blue skies, bright sun, warm air, everything she loves about southern California weather, even this late in the year.

It's late in the afternoon as well, and that, combined with the delicious smells emanating from the large bag in her hand has her stomach rumbling – she hadn't realized until she was standing in line to order just how hungry she was – she's certain Deeks will tease her over the amount of food she's bringing back for just the two of them (though to be fair, he had told her to surprise him).

Dinner and the game, that'd been the plan they'd both agreed upon. Deeks, though, had suggested a typical fast food place, but Kensi had recalled a new place that had opened up by the beach, a burger stand on the boardwalk that she'd heard through the grapevine to be fantastic. And thus, she'd overridden his suggestion, but then again it's not like he'd put up a fight – perhaps he knew that he was lucky to be sharing dinner with her, she smirks. Especially for the second week in a row.

The implications of that are pretty strong, but with a shake of her head, she easily pushes them away and focuses on her partner as she makes her way toward him, despite knowing just how very dangerous that train of thought truly is.

He looks as relaxed as ever, casually leaning against the side of the car. His gaze is away from her and toward the sea, and Kensi's sure there has to be a wistful sort of smile on his lips to match the thoughts inevitably surfing through his head – thoughts of, no doubt, leaving behind the solid ground and surrendering to the flowing waves of the ocean. His hair is as messy as always, a tousled mass of blonde tossed lightly about by the breeze and not for the first time, Kensi catches herself wondering just how those messy strands would feel between her fingers.

His casual appearance is topped off by his relaxed jeans and the slightly-tight striped shirt he's wearing – not too tight, but just tight enough to cling to muscles Kensi knows are hidden beneath. At the thought, she's not quite able to suppress a shiver, and she's oh so glad he still hasn't glanced her way yet.

Beyond all else, he looks good.

So good that it almost hurts.

…But that's not something she'll ever admit to thinking, no way in hell.

Forcing the errant less-than-pure thought from her wild imagination, she finally calls out to him, her voice nothing but playful. "So how much is it killing you just to stand there?" she teases, cocking her head slightly toward a couple of surfers emerging from the waves not too far down the beach.

He chuckles quietly, though his eyes remain to the sea. "You have no idea…"

Kensi grins as her steps finally bring her to rest in front of him, and for a moment she allows the ocean to capture her own attention. While she can't say she's ever been drawn to it quite the way that Deeks is, she also can't deny that there's a certain kind of almost melodic beauty to the rise and fall of the waves, the ebb and flow against the sand. It's something that, having lived near the ocean all her life, she can't say she's ever really noticed before…not until Deeks crashed into her life. "You know, I'm surprised you didn't try to sneak in a surf while I was gone," she teases, playfully nudging his foot with her own.

Deeks doesn't miss a beat. "Well, you see, someone wouldn't let me grab my board before we left."

"Like that's ever stopped you before." She tries desperately not to smile, because that just encourages him and even though they are off the clock now, she doesn't need him thinking it's okay to sneak off and surf every time she turns her back, whether off the clock or on.

And yet, as that little voice in the back of her head is so very eager to remind her, when it was on the clock, you were perfectly happy to keep it your little secret, just between you and him.

That smile she can't hide and finally she gives up even trying. Hands on her hips, she watches him amusedly. "Plenty of places around here you could rent one," she points out, her eyes sparkling.

Deeks snickers – that's all Kensi needs to know that he absolutely considered it. "True, true," he says airily, flicking his tongue over his lips. "Problem with that, you see, is that by the time I got back, I would be missing a burger…and in all likelihood, my fries too." He smirks, glancing at the large bag Kensi had returned with. "The decisions that define my life," he proclaims sagely. "Indulge in the waves…or stick around to defend my dinner from my ravenous partner."

"Hey," she interjects, unable to completely mask the smile on her face as she reaches past him, setting the bag on the hood of the car. "I paid for it, so technically it's mine. Besides, you still owe me for letting you crash on my couch last week. Don't know how midnight turned into all night, but I've given up trying to figure out how your mind works."

He ignores the latter part of that. "Ah, yes," he replies, grinning. "I was supposed to do your laundry. Outerwear only, if I recall correctly? Though I don't see why you're so shy around me, seems you were all too happy to show Callen…"

Kensi nearly chokes. "What?"

"You heard me." Finally he turns his gaze toward her but Kensi kind of wishes he'd kept his eyes to the sea. She has no idea how he knows what happened in the plane earlier but, knowing the way they all like to rib each other, Callen probably told him directly.

So obviously she'll have to kill them both now.

She recovers quickly though; nothing else would be acceptable. "Stripping down to change in the middle of an op is a lot different than letting you rummage through my underwear."

"It is indeed," Deeks agrees, momentarily throwing Kensi off balance. "Callen doesn't have to imagine..."

"And you'd better not be imagining anything if you want to keep your eyes," Kensi threatens with a glare.

Deeks raises his hands apologetically, but the glimmer in his eyes suggests everything but remorse. "Just making a point here. It doesn't make sense that you won't let me include them in the laundry I'm supposed to do, but you let Callen see them…in action." Kensi groans, but Deeks ignores it, a sudden new thought striking him. "Unless…"

Oh God. "Unless what, Deeks?" she asks exasperatedly, taking the bait.

He grins devilishly. "Unless you're afraid I'll stumble upon some much more…naughty pieces than what you let Callen see."

And that's the end. "We're not having this conversation, Deeks. We are so not having this conversation."

"You're blushing."

"Conversation. Over." She glares, emphasizing heavily each of her words.

He just gives her a knowing smirk. "You know that answers every question I had, right?" Narrowing her eyes, Kensi shoves her fist against his shoulder, none too gently either. "What?" Deeks yelps – nobody's ever going to say Kensi doesn't have an arm on her, that's for sure. "I'm just saying!"

"Well stop!" Deeks can't quite read the look she gives him; he thinks it's a cross somewhere between a pleading stare and a threatening glare. Adding to the effect, Kensi gives a theatrical shudder, though Deeks wonders just how much of it is actually from discomfort. "This is – it's weird, okay?"

Deeks can only chuckle. "How is this weird? We're just a couple of partners, discussing the terms of the deal we made, right?"

She just looks at him. "That's exactly why it's weird. You are my partner."

As if that means nothing, Deeks simply shrugs. "What, you don't think Callen and Sam discuss their underwear preferences with each other?"

"Please. Stop." There's a ghost of a grin now, though, and Deeks knows she's not angry. "Or else I'm not sharing with you." She glances to the bag of food she'd placed on the hood of the car moments earlier. "Speaking of, if my fries are cold because you're standing out here harassing me…" she threatens, letting it drift off into silence.

Deeks grins – far be it from him to come between Kensi and food (he sure as hell doesn't vocalize that, though). But instead of heeding her warning, he instead turns his gaze back to the ocean. "Wait just a sec." For a moment, Kensi's bewildered, but then Deeks points to a lone swimmer with a board, lazily treading the waves. "See this guy out there?" he asks. Kensi squints in the sunlight, but quickly her eyes find the man in question. "I was watching him while you were getting the food – total amateur," Deeks chuckles. "Perfect example of what happens when you try to fight the ocean and do it all your way."

His last sentence puts Kensi on guard almost immediately; it sounds a little like the analogies he's used to describe her in the past. She says nothing though, because it's possible that maybe she's reading a bit too much into what seem to be innocuous words – Deeks is a surfer, after all, and when he speaks again, it's solely about the figure in the water. "Watch him."

And so Kensi does, though she's not quite sure what the big deal is. The figure paddles with an oncoming wave, looking just about like any other surfer Kensi's ever spent time watching (which isn't very many aside from Deeks…but she's not going to tell him that). He makes the jump to stand on his board, and Deeks makes his final quiet observation. "Watch…he's going to lose it right about…there."

Sure enough, the surfer seems to lose his balance and tumbles into the water, leaving his board to be swept toward the shore on the waves. Deeks sighs and shakes his head; it's a beginner's mistake he's seen made too many times. "What did I tell you?" He doesn't turn back to her just yet, but all the same answers the question he can sense that she's formulating. "He's not comfortable out there," he explains as if that much should be apparent to anyone. "I mean, he's comfortable in the water, sure, but he won't let go and let the waves rule him. He won't catch a good ride until he stops trying to rule them."

"I didn't know surfing was so…" Kensi pauses thoughtfully, searching for the right word. "Philosophical."

Deeks smirks, letting his eyes linger just a moment longer on the ocean before he turns back to his partner, fixing her with his cerulean gaze. "One of these days," he begins lazily, crossing his arms casually over his chest, "I'm going to get you out there with me."

Something about that – something Kensi is absolutely not going to spend the time figuring out but thinks may be the look in his eyes or the tone in his voice – chases a shiver all down the length of her spine. Stiffening, she merely scoffs and hopes her reaction goes unnoticed by him. "Yeah. Keep dreaming, Deeks." Before she's even done, Kensi catches the devilish glint that flashes through his eyes. "No. On second thought, stop dreaming. I – I don't even want to know," she says, lifting her hands in refusal.

He simply gives her that lopsided grin of his, the one he knows never fails to charm her (or so he chooses to believe, anyway). "Too late," he replies and damn if Kensi doesn't shiver when his ocean blue eyes drift discreetly over her – discreetly yet leisurely. Before she can even process that odd yet not entirely unwelcome feeling, he's speaking again and Kensi has the distinct impression that this is something he's thought about before. "I say we change our…date," he suggests, choosing the word solely to make Kensi squirm. "Dinner here in the sun, and then just you, me, a couple of boards and the ocean…you can't tell me a night of Top Model reruns on your couch beats that."

She snorts. "I thought we were watching the game tonight."

"Yeah, yeah, we always watch the game," he says, waving a dismissive hand. "And yet, somehow the game…always ends up being one of your reality shows or some chick flick you've been dying to make me sit through."

Kensi shrugs innocently. "What can I say - it's cute when you tear up at the sad parts," she teases, reaching out and playfully patting his chest. It's an odd action, one she's not entirely sure where the impulse for came from…and by the way he looks at her, she can tell Deeks isn't really sure either.

But he recovers just as quickly as she had before. "That was one time, and it was because I bit right into a jalapeno on my pizza," he defends, ignoring Kensi's snort of disbelief. "Now stop trying to change the subject. What would it take to get you out there with me?" he presses, flicking his tongue over his lips. "More laundry? Buy your doughnuts every morning for a month? Two? Paperwork for two months?"

"You really want to owe me more?" She stares, mentally recalling all of the other debts he's yet to repay. And oh man, are there a lot.

He grins. "It'd be well worth it."

Kensi chooses defiantly not to read into that. "No," she says, shaking her head. "Not going to work."

That's not enough for him, not by far. "Why not?" Deeks presses, the challenge in his eyes.

For a moment, Kensi thinks about her answer. There's simple, and then there's complicated. The simple answer has nothing to do with Deeks…but the complicated one, well, it has everything to do with her messy-haired partner and the…the ridiculous feelings she's seemed to develop for him. Ridiculous, indeed. And there's just something about being alone with him out in the open water that she's not quite ready for. If she knew how to surf, it would be different.

She doesn't, though.

And that presents far too many opportunities for him to have his hands on her, to be much too close to her, to adopt the kind of physical closeness that can't be written off as accidental like the night she'd fallen asleep in his arms on her couch, after the whole Stanley King debacle.

Those memories of warmth and waking confusion and unexpected comfort still fresh in her mind, Kensi swallows hard and instead opts for the simple answer – thankfully, being the ocean, there are more fearsome creatures within than Deeks. "I'm not too keen on getting nibbled on by a shark," she says finally, shrugging her shoulders and attempting to make her tone as casual as possible.

Casual from her mouth, however, apparently doesn't remain casual as it reaches Deeks' ears. His eyes sparkle devilishly as this new piece of information settles into his brain. "Fearless Kensi Blye is afraid of sharks?" Shaking his head, he gives a bit of an incredulous chuckle. "Learn something new everyday…"

Kensi scowls. "I never said anything about being afraid," she defends, a note of disgust on the final word. Deeks grins knowingly, and unconsciously Kensi draws herself to her full height in front of him – it's instinctive. He's mocking her. "It's enough that I already spend every day trying not to get killed by the bad guys," she explains. "I shouldn't have to defend myself against sharks too."

He watches her, and it takes all the strength she can muster to keep from hitting him because it's clear in the twitch of his lips that he's trying not to laugh. "But here's the thing, my Fern," he proclaims sagely, ignoring the glare Kensi throws at him – if anything, it just makes his grin widen. "You and me standing out here in the open? We're hundreds of times more likely to get struck by lightning than we are to get attacked by sharks." He smirks. "Wanna know something else? The drive to the beach is far more dangerous than a full afternoon in the ocean." He grins, rattling off a couple of random statistics that support his point, but really only serve to annoy Kensi.

"Well who's Wikipedia now?" she questions, narrowing her eyes at the self-satisfied smirk at his lips.

Deeks shakes his head. "Don't need to be Wikipedia for that last little bit – I believe that, uh, our good friend Callen would agree. Isn't that why he refuses to partner with you ever again? Because you nearly kill him every time he gets in the car with you?"

Kensi crosses her arms defensively. "That's not fair."

"Statistics are not fair," Deeks refutes, tilting his head cockily. "Or…you know, something like that." He waves a hand, dismissing that before Kensi can retort. "Point is, you're safer in the water with me than you are on the road, or even standing in front of me now." He stops for a moment, a devilish glint in his eyes. "Besides, you have extra protection."

Kensi snorts; she can't help it. "What, because you would be out there with me?"

He grins. "Well, that too. But let's be serious for a second." Pausing, Deeks lets his gaze again flit over his partner, though this time it's much, much less discreet. But before Kensi can even think to be unnerved by it, she's annoyed again by the words that leave his lips. "There's not a shark in the entire ocean who would ever want to snack on bitter Blye."

The remark has the desired effect, that's for sure. Deeks can't help but laugh at her defensive retort – she amazes him, truly. Sometimes, he hasn't the foggiest clue of what's going through her twisted mind but then other times, she is so incredibly predictable. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Deeks smirks and Kensi wants so badly to shove her fist against his shoulder again. She thinks it just about kills her not to. "I'm just saying," he says with a shrug, his eyes skimming her again. "You…you just don't look like you taste very good." Is that something he believes? Not a chance, but he's pretty damn certain that, outside the realm of his dreams, he's never going to have the chance to kiss her and find out for himself. Thinks he'd be bleeding on the ground before he even got within an inch of her lips - Kensi's ruthless, after all. Absolutely ruthless.

Her snappy retort is proof positive of that. "Oh, like anything out there would consider you a delicacy?"

The annoyance in her voice, the first sign that maybe he's starting to push too far, rolls right over him - he never even picks up on it. "Yeah, you're right, the creatures that find me delicious are generally more the, ah, land-dwelling. long-legged, gorgeous supermodel type creatures," he quips back with a cocky grin as Kensi rolls her eyes in mock disgust. He could continue that; it's right there on the tip of his tongue, but Deeks chooses not to because he has a point to make here. Feeling triumphant, he nods toward the ocean before continuing. "Not the things in there. So yeah, with me being immune, and you being bitter, I'd say neither of us actually has to worry about sharks." He smirks. "And even if we did…I'd protect you, Fern. You don't have to be scared."

"Wait - you'd protect me?" It's slightly masked by the incredulity in her words, but it's there in her voice nonetheless – a note of warning. She knows they're partners; she knows that's part of what partners do – they look out for each other. But to throw words like that out so carelessly, so easily…there's no way Kensi can ignore the way it stings, despite the fact that they'd been joking with each other merely a moment before. Kensi Blye, after all, doesn't need to be protected by anyone.

But either the warning sails right over his head, or he just outright ignores it. "Well, yeah," he smirks. "Don't I always?"

She narrows her eyes at him. "What are you talking about?"

"Think about it," he says, and though his tone remains playful, there's nothing about this conversation that's fun to Kensi anymore. Especially not once he has the nerve to start counting on his fingers when he continues. "When you nearly got shot out in the desert. That little bump on the head you got thanks to Talbot. The Russians and their lasers. Your brief stint as a fortuneteller that got you taken away. Oh, and our good friend Stan King, remember him?" Pausing, Deeks grins – after all, he's merely teasing her. "Who knows what would have ever happened to the damsel in distress if the charming prince wasn't there to save her?"

"Damsel in distress? Really, Deeks?" she bites out, feeling the annoyed tolerance recede completely from her body, giving way to anger underneath. The grin on his face is not enough to defuse the spark in his words, and though she wants to refuse to react to him – she's certain that's what he wants – she can't quite keep all of her irritation masked. The bit that seeps through the surface, though, is nothing compared to what she's feeling on the inside – inside, she's seething. Her blood is boiling and she's furious. How dare he take perhaps the one thing she prides herself on most – her ability to take care of herself – and turn it into a joke while pointing out right off the top of his head the number of times she's failed to save herself from sticky situations? It's almost a slap to the face, whether meant jokingly or not. It stabs her pride right where it hurts, and Kensi realizes it probably hurts a lot more just because of who it's coming from. Because nobody else has ever seen her quite so vulnerable before, with the exception of maybe, maybe her ex-fiancé.

She knows he's got a terrible habit of saying things before taking the time to think about them, but still…he's her partner and probably knows her better than anyone at this point. He has to know what it did to her to have to put her life in his hands far before she was ready to do that. He has to know how hard the fact that she'd been unable to save herself had hit her. He has to know just how much it hurts to have her competence called into question like that. And that, in essence, is what he's doing, playfully or not. "I did just fine before you," she forces out as smoothly as she can. "I don't need you to protect me, from bad guys or from sharks. And I am not scared."

He holds up a hand, but rather than calming her, it comes across as merely dismissive. "Relax," he says, that maddening grin still on his lips. "You're right – Wonder Woman, after all, was no damsel in distress." Kensi's not sure if that's supposed to placate her or not, but in the end, it really doesn't matter. Not with the way he continues and damn, she has to wonder, is he really that blind? "For the record," he begins, glancing back toward the water, watching as the same lone surfer gives up for the day and drags his tired body back in toward the shore, "I also don't think you're afraid of sharks."

"Then why –"

"I think," he cuts her off, his voice quiet and much more even than hers. It's as if he has no clue of the possible firestorm he's about to create. Or maybe, this really is just a game to him. Perhaps this is nothing more than his idea of ribbing her, similar to the way they'd all ribbed him that morning about the visibility of his growing feelings for his partner. He hadn't called in to any talk radio program the night before, and he'd been able to deny as much to Callen. But when Callen had put him in front of Kensi, implying that he'd called in about feelings he had for her…he hadn't been able to even summon up the most pathetically halfhearted denial. He'd been able to do little more than stare at her, the words stripped right from his mouth by the playful – beautiful – smile she'd given him.

And she'd grinned as he'd squirmed; later, she'd clearly derived some sort of glee out of the convenience store owner's condescension toward him; she'd also quite happily jumped at the chance to mock his high school lifeguard self. All of it, him to her and her to him…it's all a part of the game they play. These are the buttons they push, and the two of them gel together well enough that there's rarely a step too far.

Rarely. Not quite never.

He sizes her up for a moment, taking in the stiffness of her posture and the daring fire in her eyes before he continues, his voice just as quiet as before. "I think there's not much you're afraid of. You're reckless. You take chances that no sane person should ever take. You drive like a maniac. You chase bad guys like a maniac. You're not afraid to do…whatever you have to do to get things done. You're probably the most…insane person I have ever met." He pauses for a moment to let the words sink into the salty sea air between them. "But I think you are afraid of something. I think you're afraid of not being in control."

Kensi actually blinks, wondering if maybe she'd heard him incorrectly. When she realizes that she, in fact, did not, she can't stop the icy indignance from breaking through the surface. His voice might be calm, but there's no mistaking his words for what they are – a challenge. They're a challenge, and not the playful kind she usually takes him up on without a second thought. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?" she asks angrily, hands on her hips.

He supposes she wants to look threatening, but lately he's been perceiving threatening Kensi as adorable Kensi. Sexy Kensi. And that…well, that's probably the most dangerous overlap his mind could ever make when it comes to her. He's pretty sure that one day, that'll be his downfall, but it's not really like he can do anything about it. He can't help but smirk, despite the sharp dagger of a glare that it earns him. "You got nervous when I pointed out the trouble that guy was having out there," he says, cocking his head toward the ocean. "I could tell that immediately." Kensi opens her mouth to protest, but Deeks quickly cuts her off. "And I don't get it. Theoretically, you should love it out there. It's a thrill. It's a risk. That's your thing. You do crazy things just because you can. And yet…"

He trails off, offering her the chance to refute. When she does, it's her tone that tells him everything he needs to know – she's defensive and angry over the idea that, after more than a year, he would ever use the word fear in reference to her. Especially when it comes to...to this. "Maybe I just don't want to surf with you," she retorts. "You ever think about that?"

"Oh, but you'll have dinner and watch the game with me?"

She huffs. "You know, I'm really not so sure now."

Deeks ignores that and powers straight on through. "I think you're afraid that if I get you out there in the ocean, you won't even be able to stand on your board. I think you're afraid of not getting it right the very first time – you know you'd have a blast out there, but you're letting that stop you. I think that, not only are you afraid of giving up that control to the waves, you're afraid of letting me have the control I'd need to teach you. I think that makes you afraid of having to admit that you don't have a clue what you're doing."

There's nothing friendly remaining in her glare. "Those are some bold thoughts you've got," Kensi observes quietly, her voice little more than a deadly whisper. He's forced his way so far under her skin at this point that she doesn't know if she can get him out, and that's just simply not an option for her. She's not amused anymore – it's as if he's sought out a sore spot and, upon finding it, twisted a knife within it over and over again.

And what's worse, he's barging right through every warning she gives him. Either that, or he truly is blind to what he's doing to her. "Bold thoughts that you're not denying."

"I don't have to deny anything," she snaps.

"Come on, Kens," he says, attempting to disarm her with the playful use of her nickname – it doesn't work, though, and in actuality it only just sparks her irritation that much more. By now, it's clear that he's crossed a line somewhere and to be honest, Deeks isn't too sure where he crossed it. It's not like any of this is a secret to anyone – everybody knows she's demanding at times; everybody knows she's only comfortable when she's in control. He's even playfully teased her about it before, and quickly Deeks wracks his brain, searching those encounters for anything in her responses, her reactions that he may have missed. There's nothing that stands out to him, though. Nothing.

It's probably quite foolish of him to continue, but then again, when it comes to Kensi, there are a lot of things he does that are probably quite foolish. "We both know you always have to be the one in control. You always have to be the one running our investigations."

"I have seniority over you."

Deeks ignores that. "You have to drive ninety-nine percent of the time, and that's not because you're the better driver. You have to be the one who decides if it's time to get something to eat; you decide where and when we stop for coffee. I suggest something, and we do the exact opposite –"

"Maybe you should make better suggestions."

"You're the one who always has to be in control of the radio, and you threaten serious bodily harm if I even suggest changing it. You have to control the temperature in the car. You plan our cover stories long before we need them, and whenever I try to mix it up a bit, it throws you off script and you don't know how to recover from that. And that kills you, doesn't it? It kills you to have to surrender and let anybody else take control, even for just a second."

There's truth in his words, and it's apparent to both of them by the way she's reacting right now. She can barely hear over the pounding echo of her heart in her ears; she can't think straight because the adrenaline pumping through her body is quickly shutting all rational thought down. No one else has ever called her out on any of this – not even Jack. No, he just left. He walked away, something that she's not quite sure Deeks has it in him to do (though at times like this, she wishes he would). And dammit, she wants to hate him for that. She wants to hate him for his audacity, for standing there and oh so casually saying everything he's saying, all the words and accusations and truths that she's having trouble ignoring because she's never faced any of it before.

He's got her well outside of her comfort zone; in this game, he's currently the one calling all the shots. Deeks is in control now, and it's thrown Kensi completely off-base. Pushing slightly away from the car, he invades her personal space just a bit, so close that one more step would bring their bodies together. "It terrifies you, doesn't it?" he breathes.

She tries with everything within her, but Kensi can't break the connection between their gazes. Her eyes are locked with his, and suddenly drowning in that shade of deep ocean blue is much, much more dangerous than anything that ever could happen on the waves. She's so angry that she can barely breathe, but underneath that, there's something else. Something she's not really sure she wants to identify.

Eventually she swallows hard and tries to regain some of the control she'd involuntarily surrendered. She pulls out her keys, jingling them deliberately as if to demand that Deeks get in the car, that they're leaving. "I'm done with this," she says quietly, hating herself for the slight wobble in her voice.

Deeks chuckles, shaking his head slightly. "Of course you are."

"Deeks."

"You're doing it again," he points out knowingly. "Trying to turn things your way again." She starts to speak again, but Deeks has the audacity to try the same move he'd tried only a couple weeks previous – Kensi barely gets the beginning of a word out before he places two fingers gently over her lips, grinning as her eyes widen almost imperceptibly. He's silent for a second, letting his touch linger until he's certain she's not going to interrupt the silence. "Isn't it exhausting?" he breathes, his gaze dropping briefly to her lips as his fingers fall away, and Kensi can't ignore the tiny flutter that elicits in her chest. "You know I'm right, Kens." He shrugs. "You need to lighten up a bit – you might be surprised at how much fun you have if you do."

She knows he's not just referring to getting her out on the waves anymore, and it's that knowledge that angers her further. She can't believe he's standing here saying all of this to her; what Kensi does know, though, is that this is where it ends. She's not going to stand here and listen to him anymore. "This conversation is over, Deeks," she repeats one more time, finally breaking the contact between their gazes and forcing her leaden feet to move her away from him. She's going to get in the car, start the engine, turn on her favorite techno station and blast it loud enough to drown out the noise of her partner in the passenger seat (if she were a bad partner, and right now she kind of wishes she was, she'd leave him right here on the beach – that's not Kensi, though; that's not something she can do to Deeks, no matter how much he angers her). She's going to drive him home, demand that he get out of the car, and thrust the bag of food she'd procured only minutes before into his hands (she's not really hungry anymore herself) before speeding away from him.

That's the new plan for the evening.

He will not change her mind.

He won't.

Two steps. Two angry steps away from him. That's all she manages before his fingers clasp around her wrist, his touch like fire to her skin. She barely has time to bite out a demand of "let go" before Deeks is spinning her, her surprise keeping her from showing any resistance to him – all she can do is go with it and allow him to lead, just as he'd inferred to be her greatest fear. The abrupt motion dizzies her, but that's nothing compared to the vertigo she feels when her back suddenly hits the side of the car. Her keys drop noisily to the ground below but Kensi can't even hear the impact. Suddenly nothing else matters outside of the fact that Deeks has her pinned to the car, her arms above her head, and his scruffy face mere millimeters from hers. She tries to find her voice again to question what the hell he thinks he's doing, but the words die on their way to her lips.

His own heart is pounding because honestly he has no idea how he's still alive after the stunt he just pulled. Then again, that's nothing compared to what he does next. Her previous demand still echoing in his ears, he flicks his tongue over his lips, his eyes never straying from hers as he speaks, his voice little more than a whisper. "No. You let go."

And then his mouth is on hers before Kensi can even think about responding to that. As it is, she can only manage a tiny whimper of surprise against his lips; she thinks she feels him smirk against her, but that's one of many fleeting thoughts that break and scatter in her mind as he kisses her. There's nothing gentle about it, nothing at all and damn she doesn't want to react the way she's reacting to him but there's no way she can stop it. The sensations, the feelings, even the emotions (loathe though she is to admit it) are storming her like a hurricane, leaving her feeling a million different things and unable to make sense of any of them. All she really knows is that somehow, for some reason, the feel of his body against hers, his hands tightly grasping her arms, and his lips moving against hers are sending the deepest shivers down her spine and through her body.

He's not immune either. He might never again be able to recite the moments that led up to this; in fact, he's certain it'll all be nothing more than a blur in his mind – this whole encounter, the whole case, the entire day, it's all going to be overshadowed by this very moment. This kiss. This woman, who is so far out of his league that he shouldn't even be in the same area code as her. And yet, he's here kissing her hungrily, desperately, his head spinning as she kisses him back (slowly but surely, and when she finally does, wow). There's still a very good possibility she'll kill him after this, but damn, it's absolutely worth it now.

He releases his grasp on one of her arms, opting instead to cup her cheek (he silently curses her ponytail because right now, he'd give anything to thread his fingers through her hair). He's not sure, and he'll certainly never ask her, but as he deepens the kiss even further, he thinks he hears her moan just slightly. Just slightly, but it's enough to almost do him in. She's intoxicating, completely and utterly so, and if she'd let him, he thinks he could kiss her like this forever. It's exquisite, really, the seamless way her mouth moves with his, the steady give and take between them, the sound of the ocean in the background and the heat and the electricity sparking between them.

It was meant to knock her off balance just a bit.

Instead, he thinks he's the one taken utterly by storm.

It nearly kills him to pull away from her, but the burning in his lungs soon will not be ignored. When he opens his eyes, the sight he's graced with is almost enough to having him diving in for another kiss. Flyaway strands of hair falling from her ponytail, her eyes still closed, her cheeks flushed and her lips parted and swollen…yeah, that's a visual he won't soon get out of his head.

Once he pulls back, Kensi's incredibly thankful for the car at her back because suddenly, she doesn't feel so steady on her feet and damn it, she's not going to allow herself to sway. It takes effort she has to summon, but after a moment her eyes flutter open, her dark gaze giving away immediately just how completely dazed she is. She swallows hard, resisting the urge to shake her head to clear it. She should say something, she knows, but her mind simply hasn't kicked back into gear yet. All she can do is stand there, watching Deeks, her heart pounding madly, unable to catch her breath.

If he weren't so stunned himself, Deeks knows he'd be a bit more amused at the sight of unflappable Kensi Blye shocked into silence, and by a kiss, of all things. He draws his tongue slowly over his lips, savoring the sweet taste of her that lingers there – after all, he's not sure he'll ever see a moment like this again.

Once he recovers a bit more, Deeks chuckles slightly before tossing her a grin that, unbeknownst to him, has her stomach turning flips. "How's that for being out of control?" he murmurs, still a bit breathless. "I told you you'd like it."

She blinks. It takes a moment for his words to sink into her, but once they do, she draws herself to her full height again, eyeing him with what she hopes is a stare of indignance. "I did not like it."

"Uh-huh. That's why you kissed me back instead of hitting me."

She makes up for that right then and there with another not-so-gentle punch to his shoulder. "That," she begins, referring to the kiss, "never happened."

"Funny, because my memory of it is impeccable."

"Deeks."

He lifts his hands in surrender, though his eyes still glimmer devilishly. "Fine. Never happened. I will never mention it again."

She nods, mostly to herself rather than him though. "Good."

But if she thinks he's going to let it go that easily, she's got another thing coming. "Though, maybe you're right," he says airily, reaching down to retrieve the keys she'd dropped. She holds out her hand expectantly, and Deeks merely grins as he starts to give them to her…but stops just short of her hand – he has no intentions of giving them back to her yet. "Maybe surfing isn't such a good idea for you after all…"

She furrows her brow as he moves away from her, taking her keys with him as he begins to walk around the car. Her first thought is that he's implying that she wouldn't be any good at surfing after all, and that…well, that's just not acceptable to her. "What's that supposed to mean?"

His grin becomes a smirk, though he doesn't reply until he's on the other side of the car, the driver's side. "Nothing, nothing really…" He pauses for a moment, long enough to open the door. "Just that, uh, I was wrong."

Cautious curiosity flashes through her eyes. "You were?" she questions, mildly suspicious.

"Yep." There's a glimmer of devilishness in his own eyes as he licks his lips suggestively, deliberately, his gaze drifting just briefly to the ocean before coming back to her. He thinks it's probably the best thing in the world right now that he's got an entire car between them because otherwise, her fist to his shoulder (again) would likely be the very least of his worries once his playful observation reaches her ears because there is no mistaking what he actually means.

"Sharks probably would like the way you taste."

And by the look in her eyes, Deeks knows he's in for a very painful ride home for that one.