He knew she wasn't the domestic type, but he'd had no idea just how domestically-challenged she actually was until he began sharing a house with her.
First, there was the laundry. He left her clothes where she'd left them herself — on the bathroom floor, the bedroom floor, strewn here and there throughout the livingroom…— and done his own laundry as he was accustomed to doing.
Not that he was opposed to handling her clothes — he'd done her laundry for a month once as punishment for forgetting to pick her up from the airport after her trip to Hawaii one time.
It was the principle of it, he told himself. They were equal partners in this 'marriage'.
But apparently, his 'wife' didn't appreciate her 'husband' ignoring her dirty clothes and only putting his own in the wash. Because when he took his load of whites out of the washer, they were no longer white — and there was a lot more clothes there than he remembered putting in.
Ugh. His favorite white shirt was now purple. Like Barney the Dinosaur.
A purple shirt he could handle…but he hated Barney.
He sighed. Nothing he could do about his poor shirt now. So he flung it in the dryer along with the rest of his former whites and the collection of Kensi's dark, wet clothes that were tangled all around them.
He'd get her back for that. As soon as that dryer stopped, he was going to steal one of her bras and hide it in his clean clothes. Sock drawer would be a great place for it.
And then there was the incident involving foil and a microwave. Or as Deeks fondly referred to it, "The Day Kensi Tried To Blow Up The House".
She had just pulled a plate of something out of the fridge and poked it into the microwave, and out of the corner of his eye Deeks happened to catch a brief flash of foil.
He'd never moved so fast in his life!
A split second before her finger hit that reheat button, his hand slapped at the door release bar and saved them both from what could easily have been a very big disaster.
After that, he hid the rest of the foil, lest that incident repeat itself.
And her housekeeping skills…or rather, lack of skills…
You see, Deeks liked cleanliness. Kensi…not so much.
He actually caught her in the act of dragging a desk chair over the carpet to give the illusion that she'd vacuumed.
Really — who does that?
He honestly didn't care if the floor was vacuumed or not. Nor did he care who did the vacuuming, for that matter.
But to go to the actual trouble of faking a vacuumed carpet — well, that was just too funny. He'd had to duck back around the corner so she wouldn't see him laughing at her.
He already knew she wasn't a big fan of cooking. But that was fine, because he liked making breakfast for her. And she liked that he was willing to.
To be honest, he was having too much fun playing one-half of a happily married suburban couple with Kensi Blye. Where else was he going to be able to see her in a cute (and somewhat revealing) dress, trying to pass off someone else's cookies as homemade?
She was out of her element here, and he loved being able to witness it.
He also loved pushing the boundaries with her…seeing just exactly what he could get away with under their guise of a loving couple.
That was perhaps the best part of being undercover here — he could flirt openly and tease her with public displays of affection, and she had no choice but to play along or risk blowing their cover.
At the end of the day…Deeks really didn't care that Kensi knew nothing about cooking, cleaning, doing laundry, or any other household stuff.
It warmed him to know there were some things she wasn't good at. Because in every other way, she was absolutely perfect.
And someday, he was going to tell her that.
But for now…
He looked at the clock on the wall. It was nearing their self-imposed bedtime. And since they were sharing a bed…
Well…let's just say he was going to have some more fun testing the boundaries…