A/N: TDDUP will be updated in the coming weeks, but it's a slow project.

Also, about the ages. I did my research. Kensi was born in 1982, and Deeks in 1979, according to the NCIS LA Database. So in 1997, she was fifteen, so Deeks would be eighteen. Ta-da!

Oh, and I'm aware that this is shorter than my usual stuff. It's not an accident. XD

The girls behind her giggle again, and Kensi Blye sighs, taking another sip of her vanilla bean latte. She really wants to move, but the lighting is just so nice in this spot and her book is really, really good.

She used to not be crazy about reading, but with her father off on duty and her mother . . . out of the picture, she doesn't really have anything else to do. She's grown to really like these books, anyways. They take her wandering mind off of everything.

She's not sure why coffee shops like this one hold so much appeal- they really aren't that special, as far as she can see. A lot of girls in her class like to flock here. They think it gives them a certain level of class. As far as she can see, boy-crazy girls hyped up on caffeine aren't exactly "classy", but hey, live and let live.

She returns to her book, humming the tune of Step by Step under her breath.

It's an odd thing, being fifteen. She's beginning to form very solid opinions about the world and people around her. Boys are no longer boys- a few are starting to have facial hair. Adults expect her to have opinions, but brush them off whenever she gives them.

Adults like her mother.

The very thought stirs up several angry feelings she doesn't bother trying to repress. Only two weeks ago did her mother try to whisk her away to Boston to live with some moronic love affair of hers. Kensi hadn't always gotten along with her mother, but until then, she had been able to brush away Julia's shortcomings. Not this time. Her mother hadn't only betrayed her father, but her family. She'd ruined it. Every happy Christmas and Easter would forever be shrouded by the thought of her mother's infidelity.

Kensi hates her for that.

She takes another sip, feeling like an alcoholic using a drink for solace in a harsh world. Except she has coffee. And homework.

"Mind if I steal a chair?" comes a voice. Kensi glances up from her book into the bright blue eyes of a scruffy blonde boy who appears to be a few years older than her. She throws on her poker face, hoping he hadn't been able to gauge the dark thoughts running through her mind. "My friend needs a seat."

"Which one?" she asks curiously. He points over to a stronger-built guy who looks a few years older than him, standing in line waiting for coffee. She raises an eyebrow, expecting him to point to another person, but his arm drops back down to his side. "Why do you need three chairs?" she asks, puzzled.

"Lonely girls like to linger at joints like this," he replies with an impish grin. "Leaving room for any interested parties," he adds with a wink. Kensi bites her bottom lip, holding back a snicker, but she can't hide her amusement.

"You've really thought this out, haven't you?" she snorts, unable to suppress her smile.

"Oh, yeah," he replies, "It's a foolproof plan, trust me."

"You got data to support that?" she asks playfully.

"This is getting girls, not the scientific method," the blonde laughs, "A much trickier business." He's gotten a full laugh from her now.

She gestures for him to go ahead and take the chair, and he whispers a quick thank you as his friend comes up from behind him.

If only she was a few years older, she thinks. She may be the musing, miserable teenager her friends see, but she's not blind. Blondie was kind of cute.

"Five minutes, Deeks," Kensi warns, eyes narrowed, "And then we're heading back." Deeks rolls his eyes at her, sitting down at a small round table, hands folded in front of him.

"Come on Kens," he pouts, "Live a little! You can't get all your nutrients from the Woody." That quip earns him a few curious glances from nearby customers, and Kensi heaves a sigh before sitting down.

"In my defense, I only made that once. And coffee doesn't have nutrients, really."

"But it does have caffeine."

She has to give him that one. And she can't deny that this case in particular has been very draining- emotionally, mentally, and physically. A father of three, killed in cold blood the week before his fiftieth birthday, leaving behind a devoted and grieving wife. Whoever killed him knew what they were doing as well. Few forensic evidence was left behind, and what evidence they did find was so befuddling they had it sent to DC for Abby to check out.

Caffeine sounds . . . ncie. So does relaxation.

"Five minutes," she repeats, sitting down across from him and feeling an odd sense of Deja Vu.

"Ten," he amends, giving her that puppy dog face of his. Too bad for him, after seeing Monty pull that exact same pout, his just can't compare. "Kens, really, this isn't the kind of place you just walk in and out of!"

"You been here before?" Kensi asks, hoping to get her mind off of the case.

"Oh yeah," Deeks replies, "Been drinking here since I was a teenager. You?"

"Same," Kensi replies distantly, "I would come here to study during high school." Deeks studies her curiously. She wills her cheeks to not heat up under his gaze, but as usual, they don't listen. "What about you?"

"During college," Deeks answers, "I would try and pick up dates with Ray here." Kensi laughs, not at all surprised. "I don't think we ever really succeeded . . ."

"Shocker," Kensi quips, smirking.

"And you wonder why I don't open up to you," Deeks throws back. "What about you? Ever meet someone special here?" Kensi laughs.

"That only happens in movies, Deeks," she snorts. He doesn't reply, instead opting to grin serenely at her. The silence allows her mind to drift back to their case. "I hate this case," she admits softly, "I really do."

"I know," Deeks says soothingly, his hand moving across the table to rest over hers, squeezing it gently. She looks up at him in surprise and he quickly pulls his hand back. "Cases like this make me realize-"

"How much we have to lose?" Kensi finishes softly. "Or how much we don't have to lose."

"Don't?" Deeks asks, "What do you mean?"

"The Lieutenant had a family," Kensi replies, "Kids, a wife . . . and what do we have? Aside from Sam, when we die, who will be there to miss us?"

"I'd miss you," Deeks says, his eyes boring into hers. "Your mother would miss you, everyone at NCIS would miss you."

"And once we're done missing each other? What will we live on through?" She heaves a heavy sigh, twirling her straw around in her fingers. "Don't you want to be more than a file?"

"You are more than a file," Deeks says, "I mean, you're Kensi!"

"That can't be your mantra for whenever I'm upset," Kensi chides, "It may make you feel better, but it doesn't do much for me." She sighs again. "Can we talk about something else please?"

"Whatever you want."

"You told me you've been here several times. Let's um . . . let's start there, I guess." She smiles. "I suppose ten more minutes couldn't do any harm."

"Who's the kid?" Ray asks, sitting down. Marty Deeks shrugs, reaching over to grab himself whatever his friend ordered for him.

"Don't know," he replies, "Give her a few years, bet she'll be hot." His friend casts a curious glance towards the brunette.

"She keeps looking over at you," Ray chuckles. "You must've left a good impression." Deeks laughs.

"What can I say? Lawyers are hot."

"You're not a lawyer yet, hotshot," Ray snorts.

Deeks brushes off the jibe. He's not going to let his old friend bother him, not when he has so much else to worry about. It's his lunch break right now, he's going to have to head back to the small diner soon to clean off the tables and after that he has a study session with a few friends before he takes the LSAT's.

The LSAT's. He still can't believe it. He, Marty Deeks, the delinquent kid who shot his own bastard father at eleven, will be taking a test to get him into law school. And he'll be damned if he doesn't pass it.

He probably shouldn't be here with Ray, getting coffee. He's exhausted. Between studying, working two jobs, and college, he's had no time to himself, and this precious little lunch hour has now been sacrificed in favor of his friend.

But he owes Ray. He knows that, and Ray knows that. He'll sleep later. Sleep is for the weak. And Marty Deeks is anything but weak.

"Excuse me? This seat taken?" Deeks is broken from his reverie by a blonde woman with bright green eyes and full red lips, holding a mocha. Ray wags his eyebrows at him and grins.

"Go ahead," Deeks says, gesturing towards the chair. He catches the eye of the cute young brunette, who rolls her eyes at him before returning to her book. That draws a grin from Deeks, who decides to put on a little show for the kid. "I'm Marty. That's Ray." The girl obviously doesn't hear him- she's engrossed in the book again.

What could be more interesting than him?

"I'm Monica," the girl says with a smile, sitting down and tucking a strand of hair behind an ear. "I think I've seen you around here before."

"We come here all the time," Ray supplies, "Don't we, Marty?" Deeks is still looking at the teenager, who is still reading. He doesn't like being brushed aside, even by a girl who can't be more than a sophomore in high school. "Marty?"

"Uh, yeah!" Deeks replies sheepishly.

"Where do you go to school?" Monica asks conversationally. "I'm actually from Ohio. Nursing major at UCLA."

"Nursing?" Now Deeks is intrigued. He likes nurses. Well, he liked nurses when he broke his leg while playing kickball with Ray and had to go to the emergency room with his mom. Monica nods.

"My parents were both nurses," she explains. She averts her gaze back to Ray. "What about you two?" she asks, although it's clear her attention is solely on Ray. About time, Deeks muses.

But still. He lost the interest of a teenager and now this Monica lady. He has no game today.

"Excuse me," he says, winking at Ray before standing up and briskly walking off, tossing his now-empty cup of coffee in the garbage can near the door. He casts a curious glance over at the girl, who is now rising herself, book in hand. He pushes the door open and holds it as she exits, giving her a quick smile as she passes. She merely rolls her eyes before disappearing around a corner.

Have any of you guys seen the trailer made for "Retreat" by ibroketheinternet on Youtube? It's incredible, isn't it? If you haven't seen it, I encourage you to check it out! It rocks!

So this has kind of turned into a story within a story. We'll see where it goes.

Also, I'm feeling the urge to write song-fics. Any requests? Leave them in reviews!

Also check my Tumblr for updates and previews!

All reviews are appreciated! Hope you all have a better week than I did! Fevers are not pleasant.

-Gab