This story takes place a short time after my first story The Puppetmaster, and it is highly recommended that you read that story before this one. Several people commented after reading Puppetmaster, that they wouldn't mind reading more about Kensi and Deeks in the tangential universe i created. Some of them were even nice enough to provide me with some ideas of what to include, thank you for that. I wrote this story during the summer but am only now getting around to publishing it here. I wanted to do it before the new season started. Better late than never. This story is mostly drama, with some action thrown in. And it leads directly into a third story i plan on writing in the near future. I'm really not good with writing drama, I hope you enjoy it.

His boots click on the tiled floor as he steadily makes his way down the eerily lit hall. The dim lighting and ominous atmosphere of the hallway outside the morgue do little to offer Deeks encouragement to go on. But nevertheless, he feels compelled to keep going. Soon he arrives at the entrance to the morgue, two large stainless steel swinging doors looming in front of him, and, reaching out, he pushes on one to gain admittance to the room beyond.

The door swings easily and silently open and Deeks walks through. Glancing around the interior of the room he sees several metal tables in front of him, and work tables positioned against the two side walls, filled with various tools, cabinets and gear necessary for the coroners to do their job. Along the far wall opposite him is a series of small doors which Deeks recognizes as belonging to the compartments meant to house the bodies of the dead. But it's the body lying on the centermost table in the room, under seemingly entirely too bright lamps, and covered head to foot with a white, blood-soaked sheet, that soon draws his attention.

Deeks stares at the shrouded body for several seconds, instinctively knowing that underneath that sheet is the person he has come here to see. The man who made his life a living hell for the better part of a day. Eventually, he once again resumes his forward motion, and moves further into the room. In the unsettling quiet, he can hear the large metal door close behind him, swishing several times back and forth before it comes to rest. As he reaches the side of the table, he gazes down at the corpse upon it, studying the blood soaked into the sheet at the head, and at the chest.

Not for the first time in the last several minutes, he briefly considers turning around and leaving this place. But once again, he dismisses that thought, as the overwhelming need to look upon this man –his tormentor, to see the face of the man who caused him so much suffering, and to make sure that he is dead-, takes precedence in his mind once more.

Slowly, Deeks raises his right hand and grabs a handful of the white sheet, just below the neck. Then, taking a deep breath, he pulls the sheet down, allowing it to gather at the waist.

Deeks spends a long time studying the facial features of the man known as Quaide. Vaguely, he resembles the mental image in his head of the man he put away so many years ago. He appears to be a bit more gaunt in appearance, his hair is shorter, and perhaps a bit more grey. But there is something else, some indefinable quality that makes him seem a lot different than Deeks remembers, but he's not sure what. Maybe it's the slack, expressionless face that is throwing him off, or maybe it is the gaping bullet hole on the right side of his forehead. Deeks just isn't sure, but whatever it is, it makes this man – this corpse- seem much more sinister than the man he remembered.

Suddenly, Deeks is overcome with a horrible sense of foreboding, and immediately he realizes that he is standing alone, in the middle of the night, deep in the heart of the hospital basement – in the morgue. And he's surrounded by death and deafening silence. Deeks isn't normally one to be bothered by such things, but a sudden chill fear strikes him all the same, and he feels the sudden need to leave this place, and go back from whence he came.

Swallowing dryly, forcing his sudden inexplicable dread down into the pit of his stomach, he reaches up, once again grabbing hold of the loose sheet folds at the body's waist and moves to cover Quaide up once more. But as his hands passes over the chest of the body, lightening quick, Quaide's hand shoots out, and grabs hold of Deeks wrist in a cold, vice-like grip. Deeks jerks his arm away in reaction, and simultaneously lets go of the sheet in his hand. But Quaide's grip holds firm, locking Deeks' arm firmly in place with a strength bordering on superhuman.

Deeks eyes go wide, and he feels his heart start to race – his breath coming in short, ragged gasps as he looks on and sees Quaide's eyes suddenly open, his white, cadaverous head turning to look at him, with a most vile and malevolent smile slowly forming on his face.

"Deeks" Quaide says, his voice deep, cracked and guttural. "What a pleasant surprise."

Deeks stares on, too terrified to speak. All he can think of to do is to run, but Quaide's iron grip still holds him firmly in place. He makes a couple more vain attempts to pull his arm free from the other man's grip, but he's held fast.

Quaide smiles even wider at these attempts, and slowly begins to sit up on the table, his beady, bloodshot eyes never leaving Deeks' own. "You can't leave yet Deeks," Quaide says, "I still have so many more tasks that I want you to complete."

Deeks shakes his head in denial of what he sees and hears. Bearing down, he angles his body away from Quaide, trying to use the strength in his legs to pull himself free from the dead man's grip. But try as he might, he cannot seem to free himself.

Quaide smiles again, and a rivulet of blood runs from the hole in his forehead down to his chin, to drip off onto the sheet. "You're my puppet Deeks," he says, "you'll always be my puppet."

Quaide's other arm rises up now and comes across to grab hold of Deeks' leather jacket, at the point where the sleeve attaches to the shoulder. And with the same superhuman strength, he begins to slowly pull Deeks forward. Closer…and closer.

The fear and panic Deeks feels intensifies into full blown terror now, and suddenly, he once again finds his voice.

"NOOOOO!" he screams. But Quaide only smiles again and pulls him inexorably closer.

"Deeks!" An all too familiar voice calls out to him, though from where he can't be sure.

"No!" He screams again, as Quaide's own face is now mere inches from his own. He can smell the man now, smell the putrid, vile odour of death and decay, and it makes him start to gag. Quaide then opens his mouth, revealing brown rotted teeth and a hideously shiny, black tongue, and he turns his head – leaning in to Deeks' neck. Instantly he feels the jagged broken teeth as they touch his neck, then he feels a mind numbing pain as Quaide bites down, his teeth sinking into Deeks' own flesh. And Deeks can do nothing but scream.

"Deeks! Wake up!"

Deeks eyes fly open as the violent shakes administered by his partner finally bring him awake. His hand instantly flies to his neck and he scrambles backwards, away from the shadowy form hovering above him for just a moment or two before realization dawns and awareness of where he is, and who he's with floods into him.

"Easy Deeks… you were just having a nightmare." Kensi says softly.

"Yeah…" Deeks looks at his partner, eyes still a bit wider than normal, and embarrassment flooding his features. He takes a few deep breaths in an attempt to calm his still rapidly beating heart.

Kensi reaches over and turns on the bedside lamp, then comes to sit on the edge of the bed while Deeks sits up, bringing his knees up to his chest. Resting his arms on his knees, he stares straight ahead, still breathing in deep regular intervals.

"So what was the nightmare this time?" Kensi asks gently. "Were you forced to watch as Quaide kills your sister again?"

"No… I was in the morgue."

"Ah," Kensi says, "Zombie Quaide was trying to eat you again was he?" There is just a hint of a smile on the corners of her lips as she says this, but when Deeks eyes shift to look at her, no amusement evident, that smile vanishes.

"I'm glad my nightmares amuse you." he says.

"Come on Deeks, bad dreams suck…I know, but it's just a dream. At least they're getting less and less frequent. That's the first one you've had all week." Kensi reaches out, placing her hand on Deeks forearm, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "Things will get better soon" she continues, "I promise."

"I'll hold you to that promise." Deeks replies, a ghost of a smile creeping onto his face. His breathing is normal now- all signs of the terrors of the nightmare dissipated.

Kensi returns his smile, locking eyes with her partner briefly. Then she rises up and moves to leave the bedroom. "Well I have to get back to sleep," she says, "some of us actually have to work in the morning."

"Hey Kens…" Deeks calls out to her retreating form, and when she stops and turns to look at him, he continues "I don't suppose you'd mind maybe…spending the rest of the night in… here…would you?"

Kensi's eyebrows raise at the unexpected question. Deeks has had several nightmares before in the three weeks he's been staying in her place, but this is the first time he has asked her to stay with him after. Either that dream was worse than usual, or just maybe her partner has something else up his sleeve. It wouldn't be the first time he's tried to get her to share her own bed with him – and why I let him have my bed while I sleep on the couch I'll never know- but Deeks has never asked immediately after so disturbing a nightmare. Her eyes narrow then as she looks at him, suspicion now apparent on her features. But Deeks just gazes at her with that innocent puppy dog look again, and the sincerity in his expression holds no hint of ulterior, less than platonic motive.

Looking away, Kensi nods and sighs "Ok…but no funny stuff Deeks. You don't want me to elbow you in the ribs in my sleep, and accidentally re-aggravate your wounds."

Deeks smiles, half in relief at her assent and half in response to her mock threat. "I make no promises about what I might do while I'm asleep," he replies, "but you have my word I'll be a perfect gentleman while I'm conscious."

Kensi smiles and shakes her head as she makes her way to the other side of the bed. "I guess that'll have to do" she says as she climbs in.

"You don't mind sleeping on the left side do you?" Deeks asks as she twists in bed a little, trying to get comfortable, "I know you usually sleep on the right side."

She stops moving and looks over at him when he says this. "And how exactly do you know that?" She asks him, suspicion once again plainly visible on her face.

"C'mon Kens, I'm a Detective remember? Or well I used to be anyway. The right hand night stand is the one with all the junk on it. So its obvious this is the side you prefer."

"That's not junk!" Kensi replies indignantly. "That's just…stuff."

"Stuff…" Deeks echoes. He looks over his shoulder then to the night stand behind him, eyes surveying the contents scattered about the surface with a new interest. Kensi has at least half a dozen partially read novels –some dog-eared and some wedged open- all piled atop one another - romantic novels mostly. Other items include a few flavors of chapstick, used ear plugs –ew-, a handful of scattered coins, an empty glass, a nail clipper and a small pile of junk mail. "Do you still use those ear plugs?" He asks, still looking over his shoulder.

Kensi is fluffing her pillow now, still trying to get comfortable. "Sometimes I do" she replies, "why?"

Deeks looks back to her, a playful smirk plastered on his face. "Cause they're pretty gross. I mean, they're covered in ear wax and hair. And look at this, he continues, turning back over and indicating the pile of mail, "that's junk mail Kens, junk mail. If that can't be classified as junk then I don't know what can."

Kensi just stares at him for several moments, obviously irritated, and Deeks can almost see the gears grinding in her head. Not for the first time in their three weeks of living together, Deeks is sure, has she just convinced herself not to punch her recuperating partner. But Deeks is also pretty sure that his grace period isn't going to last much longer.

"You know," she says finally with a frown, "I think I'll sleep on the couch after all." She then gives him a completely disingenuous grin and moves to get out of the bed again.

"Kensi wait" Deeks reaches out, grabbing her wrist before she can get too far. She stops and looks over at him. "You don't have to go. I didn't mean it. It's not junk…any of it. And I love your ear plugs, and your ear wax, and your hair…all of it…it's great…it really is." Deeks isn't sure what exactly to say to get her to stay, so he opts to say everything that comes to his mind. And as he babbles on, Kensi's eyebrows slowly raise and a smile of amusement forms on her mouth. As she moves to settle back into bed, Deeks finally takes the cue, and ceases talking –right at the part where he's talking about how much he loves Romance novels- and settles back in to bed himself.

"Sleeping on the left side is fine for me Deeks," Kensi finally says, in reply to his question from earlier. In truth, she only remembered it because it just occurred to her that she hates sleeping on the left side. Stupid Deeks and his stupid injuries, she grumbles internally. She punches her pillow a couple of times really hard –masking the action by appearing to fluff it-, no small part of her wishing it was her partner she was smacking instead.

"Well, if you're sure." Deeks says to her.

"I'm sure."

"Then g'nite Kens."

"Ya, back atcha."

Deeks smiles while looking over at his agitated partner. Clearly she doesn't like sleeping on the left side, no matter what she says. But he'll be damned if he's going to actually give her his side to sleep on. Everybody knows the right side is the best. Turning over, he switches off the lamp and settles down to sleep. In the sudden darkness, he can still hear and feel Kensi faintly stirring, and her presence beside him does wonders for putting his mind at ease. For a small while he marvels at her ability to soothe him so, without even trying. And he tries to recall having ever known anyone in his life with whom he could feel so comfortable with. To this point in his life, it's a rather short list of people who he has actually been close to, and none of them quite like this. Kensi was a rare one indeed. If only he had the courage to tell her. Thoughts of his partner and visions of what might be dance in his mind then, and carry him effortlessly back to sleep.

If Deeks harbored any doubts at all about whether or not Kensi hated sleeping on the left side, those doubts vanished the moment he woke in the morning, and found his partner draped across him, every inch of her on his side –the right side- of the bed.

As Deeks lies there, Kensi's head on his chest, her arm and leg extended out over him, a slow, easy grin forms on his face. This is awesome! He can't help but think to himself, how many times has he dreamt about this very thing? But his pleasure at his predicament is brought to a jarring halt when moments later his partner intakes a deep breath, signaling her return to wakefulness.

Sure enough, she lifts her tired head off of his chest, and looks up at him with sleepy eyes.

"What time is it?" she asks, her voice a pale, cracked shadow of its usual sound.

"Uhhhh… I don't know." Deeks is a little bit stunned as Kensi seems to either not mind, or, more likely, seems to have not yet noticed the fact that she's pretty much lying on top of him. He stares at her wide-eyed, expecting her to clue in any second, get all upset, and suddenly make this all his fault. Of course he's more than willing to endure her ire, this is more than worth it. But that doesn't stop him from cringing just a little at what he's sure is to come.

But Kensi just looks around sleepily, wiping the drool off her chin as she does so. It's then that Deeks notices the rather sizable puddle of drool Kensi left on his t-shirt, and now that he thinks about it, he can actually feel the cool moisture that had seeped through and covered his chest. He supposes he should be grossed out, but he doesn't mind… doesn't mind at all.

Just then Kensi's eyes widen in alarm. Oh shit, here we go, thinks Deeks.

"Oh shit! My alarm clock is still in the living room!" Kensi jumps up off the bed and races out of the bedroom, leaving a perplexed Deeks laying there, staring after her.

"Shit!" Kensi yells from the next room, "I slept through my alarm! I'm already late for work!" Moments later, she comes storming back into the bedroom, pulls a shirt from a hanger, jeans, socks and underwear from the dresser, and is back out again in a flash, heading for the bathroom.

"You uh….want me to make you some coffee while you're getting ready?" Deeks calls out from his comfy spot on the bed.

"Ya, that'd be great," Kensi replies, followed by the sound of the bathroom door closing.

Deeks smiles and shakes his head as he climbs out of bed. "Dodged a bullet there, I think…" he murmurs to himself. Then he chuckles when the irony of that statement hits him, reminded as he is of Kensi's bullet wound in his ass as he limps his way into the kitchen.

In truth, he barely needs to limp at all any more, he just feels a whole lot of soreness, along with his other wounds, though they are healing nicely. But nevertheless, he's taken to exaggerating his limp a little bit while Kensi is around, in hopes that she'll keep letting him sleep in her bed. After sleeping that first night on her couch, and waking up actually feeling much worse than the night before, she was nice enough to switch sleeping arrangements with him, and he didn't want to go back to that couch any sooner than he actually had to. Kensi was several inches shorter than himself and that made the couch much more suitable for her anyway. Not that he didn't mind her sleeping in the bed with him. As Deeks pulls the coffee out of the refrigerator and loads up the coffee maker, turning it on, he ruminates once again on how it felt to wake up having Kensi all over him like that.

Wonderful doesn't begin to describe it. The feeling of her warm body pressed snuggly against his own provided him with a feeling of contentment he can't remember ever having before. Easy Deeks, she's your partner, he has to remind himself, not for the first time. He can already feel his mind slipping down the well-trodden path of 'what if', contemplating various possibilities and ramifications of if Kensi and he were to take their 'relationship' to the next level. He's almost certain that becoming involved with her would be a good thing… the best thing. But he can't deny the complications that may arise concerning their partnership, how it may change if they become involved, or, god forbid, if things between them don't work out. What they have right now is a great partnership. All feelings aside, Kensi is hands down the best person he's ever worked with and he counts himself lucky to have her. But although it is extremely frustrating sometimes, trying to control these cursed feelings and desires, he just can't bring himself to risk what he already has, at least not yet. Kensi is even better at keeping her feelings in check -locked away behind those all too handy barriers of hers- but even if he wasn't quite sure about how she felt prior to that terrifying, shitty day three weeks ago, the tenderness and care she had shown him immediately after the event could not be written off as just concern for his well-being or guilt that she had shot him. Especially those frequent, though too brief periods, where he would catch her looking at him from her chair at his hospital bedside, and it was a look that seemed to communicate -each time- realization that she had almost lost him and recognition of what that loss would have meant to her. He had scared her that day, and put her though a lot, but she was a tough girl, and he knew she could handle it.

Coffee brew done, Deeks pours the coffee into a travel mug for Kensi, and into a normal mug for himself. He then adds a liberal dose of cream and a teaspoon of sugar to Kensi's coffee – the way she likes it- and seals the lid, before seeing to his own cup. As he finishes this task, Kensi comes walking into the kitchen, buttoning up her plaid shirt. Deeks looks over, gives her a smile, and holds out her travel mug, waiting for her to finish her buttoning so she can take it. Briefly, as he eyes her garb, he wonders once again whether she ever wore plaid before they started working together, or if that was one of his influences on her. He knows though, that if he asked, she would deny his having any influence over her whether it was true or not. So he doesn't bother.

"I just took the mother of all quick showers" Kensi says as she finishes buttoning her shirt, then "Thanks" as she takes the travel mug from Deeks and turns to walk towards the door.

"Wait!" Deeks calls out to her as she's opening the door.

Kensi stops and looks at him, irritation showing on her face, "What Deeks, I'm late for work."

"Just thought you might want to take your phone," he says, tossing it to her.

Chagrined, Kensi catches it and turns again to leave, "Thanks Deeks."

"Hey what do you want me to make for dinner tonight?!" he calls out from the door as she gets into her car.

"I don't know, call me later!" she responds, just before she shuts the car door.

Deeks stands at the door to the house and watches as his partner drives off, giving her a returning wave.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say that I just became a housewife." He mutters to himself in amusement, before turning and closing the door behind him.

Stupid stupid stupid Kensi thinks to herself as she drives into work, Hetty's going to bust my ass for this. How could she be so stupid as to forget her alarm clock in the bloody living room? And worse, she usually doesn't even need it anymore, her body long ago becoming used to waking up on its own at the same time every day. But she knows why she didn't wake up at her normal time today. Friggin Deeks is why, friggin Deeks being so soft and warm. She had been so comfortable lying there against him –well, On him if she's is to be honest with herself- it's a wonder she woke up at all. It only took her a micro-second to clue in to her predicament once she had woken, but Deeks isn't the only good actor in this partnership. One needs to be a good actor with all the undercover work that is required in this job after all. And she had immediately ascertained that complete obliviousness to the situation was what was needed. At least until she could come up with a better idea. Thankfully she hadn't needed to once she realized her bloody clock was still in the next room. But the best part is that she thinks she managed to convince Deeks that she didn't notice how she woke up this morning. And if that's so, then, theoretically, there's nothing stopping her from sharing the bed with him again –provided he asks of course- and maybe they can have a repeat of this morning. There's no harm in that is there? No…she wouldn't mind that…wouldn't mind it at all. And if it happens that she wakes on top of him again, she can just blame him for it. She just has to remember to bring in her alarm clock next time.

Smiling to herself, Kensi continues her drive into work.