A little something for valentine.

She can't really describe how she's feeling, but she certainly feels dirty and tired. Even so that the only thing she really wants, really needs is a hot shower and then her bed. It's how you feel after working for almost two days straight and it being a gruesome case. It allows her to take her mind of things, like say what today is and the fact she'll have to spend it alone. In public she will declare she's doesn't do it, doesn't go along with all the commercial stuff around today, but that doesn't mean she wouldn't mind some personal attention. Nothing big, nothing too special just the notion that someone is thinking of her and take the time to show her.

But that's not gonna happen, so she goes home and daydreams about the shower and the soft mattress of her bed. It makes her even more tired and she nearly floors it to get home sooner. But it seems there is no rest for the good guys because the second she opens the door and steps inside, she knows something is off. Something is not right and her right hand goes for her gun before she actually realizes. The tiredness seeps out of her body and she's on high alert, ready to face whatever is inside the house and perhaps pose a threat to her. She glances around the room, taking in everything. The room is clean, much to the surprise of others, but she managed to keep it clean in the past few weeks and she's rather proud of it.

Everything is in its place, but that's not what had her on an edge. It was the noise, well the lack of the noise inside the house. Normally her coming home would lead to a more than happy welcome from Monty, his nails scraping on the floor as he come towards her, ready for the flying welcome he prefers. Most of the time with his leach tagging along, letting her know what he wants. But today is different, different as in there is no Monty to welcome her and it feels strange, it feels like something is missing.

Her eyes travel further and come to rest on the bedroom door. It's standing ajar and that is something different. She's one hundred percent sure she closed it this morning. While she loves the mutt and everything that comes with it, she prefers to sleep without him and his hair as a companion in her bed. So every morning she closed the door to keep him out.
Slowly and quietly she makes her way over and stops just outside the door. A deep breath later she's ready to go, ready to face whatever is hiding inside. A brief thought passes through her mind, as how funny it would be if it were just Monty and the dog finally figuring out how to open doors.

Whatever tension she's feeling as she enters the room, seeps away as she takes in the scene inside the room. All thoughts are gone, everything she had been feeling before coming here is tossed outside the window and is replaced with one single thing. 'He's here.'
He's lying pretty much in the middle of the bed, Monty sleeping on his right, near his feet. She smiles a little, even the dog knows the good side. Even asleep, even with his eyes closed he looks tired. After that she takes in his body, his clearly beaten body. A large bruise covers the left side of his head and as she travels further down, to the spot where his shirt has ridden op she can see a trail of bruises. Anger flashes inside her and she wonders why the bad guys always go for the face and the lower abdomen.

She takes a few minutes to look at him, to really take him in and she can't help it. Her heart jumps a little. He had come straight here, straight to her. Him, her partner, Deeks was known for needing some time to come down from an undercover and often did in solitary had come straight to her, straight from the hospital. As she grabs her sleep wear and steps inside the bathroom she can't help the gigantic smile on her face.

While she had been planning on taking a long hot shower, she cuts it short. The water is relaxing, but not as relaxing as his touch and that's what she's been longing for. He had been gone for three weeks but that didn't matter anymore, he had come home today and on this day! Screw all the commerce around it, this is the real deal, the idea of having that person beside you, even when that said person is fast asleep and in the middle of the bed.

A quick detour to the kitchen allows her to find a slice of pizza and she devours it. It all means that a little less than 20 minutes have passed before she's back inside the bedroom and back to looking at him. Moving over to the bed she gently takes Monty of the bed and lead him out of the bed. Not because she doesn't want to sleep on the left side, she had learned that. But that was the side that was less bruised. She knew he preferred to sleep on his front, so him taken the back position means it really hurts. He's out for the count, but she doesn't want to disturb him or cause him any more pain by touching him. Something she does want to do, she's planning on spending a very clingy night. So it's only logic to choose the less bruised side of him.

As she snuggles up to him, he stirs a little, but a glance on his face tells her he's still asleep. His arm, first laying above his head moves none the less and curls around her, pulling her even closer. It's probably a subconscious movement, but one she loves none the less.
His other hand is laying on his stomach and she covers it with hers.
A cool touch makes her look up and study the hand. A new smile is unstoppable. Not alone did he come straight here, he had remembered, he had not fallen asleep before putting it back on its spot, the only place it belongs.

It's a small, simple golden band, a companion piece to the one she's wearing. It's so small, yet means so much to her. It tells an entire story, a story being told without words. Everyone knows what it means. It means he belongs to her and she belongs to him. A third smile grows, it something she's still not sure she's used to, but it is the truth. The small band around his finger gives her so much power, there is so much to be said, but it all fits inside a thingy little thing.

He's hers, legally.