PROLOGUE

Kensi Blye does not need a man to look after her. Kensi Blye does not need anyone to look after her. She looks after herself, has done for a long time, and she's done a damn fine job of it too.

She'd suffered her fair share of injuries of course, some more serious than others, but injuries are an occupational hazard, unavoidable, inevitable, expected. And when they do happen, she deals with it- herself. If a hospital is needed she has to be dragged, kicking and screaming. Sometimes literally.

Few men are up to the job, even Callen and Sam draw straws on whose turn it is. Most people would be floored by a bullet and/or several tons of metal crashing into them at high speed. Not Kensi. A couple pain pills, taken either stealthily so as not to alert the team or forcibly shoved down her throat by whoever has the misfortune of being on Kensi watch, and she's good to go. She resolutely refuses to show any kind of weakness and she absolutely abhors people trying to take care of her.

So why- ignoring years of protest and feigned displeasure- is she more than happy to allow a certain shaggy blond surfer to look after her?

CHAPTER ONE

For once, it wasn't a work related injury- that she might just have been able to accept. No, Kensi Blye was sick, struck down by the flu of all things. Who catches the flu, in the summer, living in southern California?

She had asked the very same question to her partner as he deposited her on her couch, ignoring her protests and blocking her feeble attempts to get up again. Kensi Blye did not get sick. She had not once, in the whole of her time at NCIS taken a day off, for illness anyway. Not since she was a little girl had she allowed something as trivial as a measly pathogen to get the better of her. No, it wasn't possible.

Except that it was.

The pounding in her head and the ache in every muscle in her entire body were testament to that. Her throat felt like she'd swallowed a couple hundred razor blades and washed them down with drain fluid and she couldn't even begin to fathom how her nose could simultaneously be totally blocked up and incessantly runny. Kensi was just grateful that her stomach had finally stopped trying to eject itself from her body every half hour.

Her saviour throughout all of this had been Deeks. Unperturbed by her half hearted threats of bodily harm if he didn't leave her alone, uttered in between bouts of sickness as she bent over the toilet bowl, he had continued to nurse her throughout her ordeal; making her sweet honey tea for her throat, bringing her yet more tissue to replace the quickly diminishing stock and even stroking her back and running damp flannels across her pale, sweaty brow while she, yet again, emptied the contents of her stomach in to the toilet.

He truly was a god send, and lying on the bathroom floor at 3am waiting for her fever to break, Kensi had started to wonder if maybe he really was just that. He definitely had the long, wavy blond hair thing going on.

Deeks had found her passed out on the bathroom floor a while later, and couldn't help but smile at the sight of her sprawled across the bathroom tiles- wearing Snoopy pyjamas of all things. He couldn't help but think Bad-ass Blye looked awful cute, lying there all soft and peaceful like that.

Praying to any and all deities that Kensi would never find out, Deeks quickly removed his phone from his back pocket and snapped a picture, after all, who knew when or if, an opportunity like this would present itself again? He was certainly going to enjoy it-and collect as much evidence as possible for later reflection- while he could.

Taking one final moment to appreciate the sight before him, he bent down and gathered her easily into his arms before tenderly carrying her back to her bed.

When, upon being tucked back into her sheets, she had rolled over and murmured 'My Angel' just before falling back asleep, he had merely grinned, his heart tightening a little at the emphasis on 'My', and whispered that he'd remind her she'd said that one day.

Kensi had only a vague recollection of Deeks putting her back to bed that night. She remembered how the bathroom lights had illuminated his hair in just the right way to turn his wavy locks into a halo. She remembered the strength of his arms around her. And she remembered the soothing motion of his hand as he stroked her hair, lulling her back to sleep. She supposed she should feel embarrassed, who knows what she might have said in her delirium (she will claim temporary insanity if it turns out she did say something embarrassing but she is inclined to think her fever acted in much the same way as alcohol- removing her inhibitions rather than altering what was already present in her head. And heart.) But now, looking over at her partner, softly snoring on the other side of the bed, she can't quite find it in herself to feel anything other than...contentment.

And as she watches him do that adorable twitchy thing with his nose (and catches herself smiling like a fool at it) Kensi decides she might just know why she allowed him to take care of her.

A.N/ Hey Guys, so here is the first chapter of my first Densi fic! I actually have most of it written already eo expect the next chapter within the next few days! I'm not one of those writers that holds chapters ransom for reviews, but I'd be lying if I said that feedback doesn't make me write/post faster.

Also I apologise to the Tiva shippers following me who thought this would be a Tiva fic. I do have more in the works and a couple nearly completed so stay tuned for those, I just haven't really been in the mood for it given all the drama recently and have been spending more time in the Densi fandom to counteract the negative feels as a result of the whole Cote thing.

For Densi fans, believe me, there will be a lot more. This ship has really got me and I have quite a few ideas in the works.

Love as always guys, and remember to follow me on tumblr: xoxox