Set after 4x17 Wanted, because let's be serious: what's not to like about that boatshed moment?! Right?!
Disclaimer: I don't own NCIS Los Angeles or its characters.
She has a death grip on his badge and watch, her arms folded over her chest, keeping them as close as possible to her heart. As ridiculous as it seems, these two little and not-so-insignificant objects are the only connection she has with him, the only one she can have right now... And she hates it.
The scene is way too familiar, the similarity with his last hospital trip bringing flashes of vivid and painful memories. As the smell of ether invades her nostrils, she does her best to fight a new wave of nausea. She closes her eyes and takes a few deep breaths, hoping it will be enough to make it go away.
When she opens her eyes, she wills them to look through the windows, anywhere but the hallway. Anywhere but at the doors from which some bad news may emerge any minutes now.
He's been in surgery for the last hour and she has yet to be updated on his condition. She arrived at the same time, since she rode in the ambulance with him, protocols be damned. Compared to the last time he was in the hospital, she was there when it happened. She knows Callen and Sam will arrive soon, right after having processed the crime scene. Deeks' crime scene. She shivers at the thought, her eyes shutting again, unwanted images dancing in front of her eyelids… His lifeless body and his pale face as his blood started tinting the ground.
'NCIS, freeze!' Kensi's voice reverberated through the warehouse as the form in front of her stops still. Her arm is extended as her gun aims towards the suspect. She is waiting for him to turn around when she hears the unmistakable click of a firearm being ready to fire. Standing a few feet away from their suspect is another man, his gun aimed directly to Kensi's chest.
'Well, well, well … Looks like we just reversed the roles in here honey! Drop your weapon and send it our way!' a smug smile adorning his figure.
Kensi tries to think fast. Deeks must be somewhere in there waiting for the right time to show up or at least she hopes…
She doesn't have the time to reply though as the cavalry arrives. Sam and Callen announce themselves loud enough for the bad guys to know they don't stand a chance but apparently they think otherwise and the hell break loose.
Shots resonate through the warehouse and before Kensi knows what is happening, Deeks rushes towards her and sends her backwards to the ground.
The air is knocked out of her lungs as his body rests over hers.
'Deeks…' her voice is muffled by the lack of air. She tries again, this time louder and she can't help the emerging worry she feels thinking that in the kind of position they currently find themselves into, he should normally have cracked half a dozen of saucy jokes already.
Pushing him gently to his side, she manages to extricate herself and takes a look at him.
She can't help but to gasp at what she sees. His face has lost its rosy color and his shirt looks like red roses are blooming on it.
Once her initial shock is passed though, she doesn't waste any time. In one swift motion she rips his shirt open and starts to look for the bullet hole only to find two. The one in the shoulder bleeds but not as much as the one a few inches away further south …
She puts both her hands on it. Pushing on it and fighting the blood to stay in, where it belongs. And she starts talking to him. In fact she won't stop until his gurney passes the heavy doors to surgery.
She is lost in her reverie when she feels a comforting hand on her shoulder.
'Agent Blye?'
She nods unable to do more.
'He should be out in a few minutes. Everything went well but …' the doctor looks at the young lady in front of him. Her figure is tired and he guesses that in other circumstances, it would be much more difficult for him to read her mind. But in that minute, she can't help the myriad of emotions crossing her face and for once, she doesn't fight to keep them buried …
'But …' she asked unsure of what may come after the tiny word.
Passing a hand in the nape of his neck, he sighs softly before continuing in full doctor mode.
'Well … he lost a lot of blood at the scene and he …' he clears his throat searching her eyes once more that she can handle what he is about to say '… we lost him on the table. Just a couple of seconds but still … the next 48 hours will be critical.'
She nods, suddenly feeling so exhausted and drained that she has to sit down on the nearest chair.
The doctor offers her a sympathetic smile and tells her something about a nurse and a room. She isn't so sure as the only thought echoing in her mind right now are three little words threatening her world to shatter. We lost him.
That was half an hour ago. She is now sitting in her partner's room. Her eyes never leaving his ever so still body. God, wouldn't she give anything right now for him to just wake up and crack one of his sponge bath jokes. Hell, if he'd wake up right now she would even offer to give him one herself… Yeah, that here is a good indicator of how desperate she is right now.
He takes him 8 hours, 33 minutes and 42 seconds to wake up. Not that she has been counting or anything. Callen and Sam have come and gone a long time ago; even tried to coax her to abandon his bedside to take a break or at least get something to eat. Nothing worked.
She looks out the window, his badge and watch still securely nestled in her arms when she hears him shifting and trying to fight the discomfort.
Their eyes lock. Blue diving into brown or maybe the other way around, they couldn't care less in that moment.
'Hey' his voice is low and hoarse.
'Hey' she offers back 'let me help you with that'.
She puts his belongings on the table near the bed and it doesn't escape him what she had been clinging to. That's teasing material, right there, and yet he passes on the opportunity.
She offers him her arm and helps him to sit a little bit straighter. He grunts as the pain takes over his upper body. She asks him if he needs her to call a nurse and he shakes his head.
They stay like this a few more seconds, each mulling over the fact that he could have been killed today. He can tell that there is something she holds back and wonders if he should actually ask her when she speaks.
'You lied' her voice is soft but not devoid of anger.
He quirks his eyebrows at that; confused to say the least after many would consider a strenuous day …
So she clarifies.
'In the boatshed … you promised me you would not get yourself killed. Ever … You lied.'
The realization then dawns on him. As difficult as the day had been for him, he knows that it was harder for her. Watching the person you work with every day, a person you care about getting shot at … waiting helplessly while your partner's life is in somebody else's hands. He honestly doesn't think he could do it without going crazy …
He recalls that moment in the boatshed.
'Promise me you'll never do that'
'What?'
'Get yourself killed'
'Okay'
He remembers everything so well... From the shudder in her voice to the moisture in her eyes… It's all there, neatly catalogued in his mind as another step he had been allowed to take within Kensi Marie Blye's fortress walls.
Of course he had lied. How could he have not? He recollects wistfully, his mind still engulfed in that moment from many years ago before his throat scratches so much that he cannot refrain from coughing.
Kensi grabs the glass of water from the bedside table. Holding it with her right hand, she directs the straw with the tips of her fingers, while her left hand finds his cheek.
When he finishes sipping, he thanks her and immediately misses the warmth of her hand, the comfort it brought him. It's a natural gesture and yet not so for them…
'I am pretty sure we both knew I was lying Princess…' he adorns the lopsided smile she loved so much but she can't let herself being distracted by it right now.
'Why?' she asks very seriously.
He sobers at her sharped tone and the toughness of her eyes.
He sets his jaw and when he speaks his tone is as serious as it can be.
'You should know it by now Kens…' briefly risking a glance at her, his eyes stay on her as he continues '… there is nothing I wouldn't do for you.' Where does that come from, he isn't so sure but he'd put his money on the quantity of drugs in his system right now. God knows that as far as 'their thing' is concerned, he was always the one pulling … never pushing … correction, never truthfully pushing.
He shrugs gently before continuing. '… Nothing! So if that means I have to lie to you in order to make you feel better … I'll do it, even if I hate every second of it and the way it makes me feel.'
Her brow furrows as she lets the weight of his words sinking in. It's a huge confession he just made and after a day like today, she isn't sure of what to do with it.
'Besides, I obviously didn't get killed. Because, let me tell you that if this was heaven …' he throws a quick look on either side '… you'll be in that bed with me!'
'DON'T! Please don't!' her voice is all but shouting right now.
'Don't you dare dismiss what you just told me by throwing off some joke…'
She's pissed. He can tell she's pissed and he gets it … to some extent.
'Okay' his voice is soft as he tries to soothe her.
'Look Kens … Kens …' he tries again so she looks at him. He pats the spot on the bed near him and she looks at it as if it could bite her. After a few more seconds of patting, she finally gives in and sits on the bed next to him.
He takes her hand in his, his eyes never leaving hers.
'I am sorry if I hurt you by lying to you. But that day, at the boatshed, I got to see that side of you that is hidden from the whole world and … I meant what I said earlier … there is nothing I wouldn't do for you. To protect you and avoid you to suffer'.
'I never ask you to take a bullet though!' she adds softly, calmed by his close proximity and his reassuring words.
He shakes his head, slightly chuckling. 'No, that you did not and I wish I could tell you this is the last time it happens but we both know better …'
She nods silently before gently resting her head on his.
'I am sorry you took a bullet for me' she says feeling the all-too-familiar tingling in her eyes. She fights it or at least she tries. She fails of course. The adrenaline is wearing off and she is so tired to keep a strong face.
'Hey, hey …shsh' he pulls his head just enough to see the tears falling. His other hand moves up and cups her cheek as his thumb travels gently across the softness of her skin. His eyes are so soft and caring.
'Don't be sorry. I'm not. I'd rather be in that bed a hundred more times if it means I'd never have to see you once in it.'
He's dead serious now and long forgotten are the jokes and other deflecting methods. In that moment, he is as open and unguarded as she was in the boatshed and that's what finishes undoing her.
Leaning slowly into him again, she closes the distance and her lips finally meet his.
It's soft and warm and so many other things that he can't quite describe right now … It's so different than what he had expected from her and yet so … her. He feels like that last piece of puzzle finally connecting and making it whole or the familiar click of a set of keys when you've reached home… Happy, he feels happy.
When they disconnect, they're both in a second state of mind; high from the kiss they just shared and at the same time lucid enough to acknowledge that they finally crossed that forbidden line. And damn, does it feel good!
The corner of his mouth starts to curl when he speaks 'How come I didn't get a 'get well soon' kiss the first time I got shot at? Because you know, that could really have sped up the healing process… '
She quirks one eyebrow before answering and shaking her head 'That … for your information, was definitely not a 'get well soon' kind of kiss!'
'No?' he asks narrowing his eyes, his face losing a bit of his earlier playfulness.
She shakes her head, her tone serious but soft and a bit tensed, he can tell.
'More like you're scared the hell out of me today and we've both been stupid or stubborn enough to waste any more time'.
The gleam in his eyes is back and they're locked on her beautiful mismatched ones.
'So … There'll be more kissing?! In our future I mean … Not that I mean we have a future-future together or something …' one thing she discovers pretty quickly is that her lips crashing on his is like hitting the mute button on her TV remote.
'Look at them G. They are so engulfed in their own little bubble that they didn't notice us standing here. For ten minutes now!' the ex-seal says fuming.
'Look, I get what you're saying Sam, but can you honestly tell me that you didn't see that one coming?' Callen asks dubiously.
A smile starts to tug at the ex-navy seal lips.
'Come on, let's give them a few more minutes and pretend we didn't see anything…' Callen says before turning on his feet and heading to the cafeteria.
Sam follows right beside.
'We still gonna talk to him right?! It's not because the man took two bullets protecting her that he should be off the hook that easily!'
Callen's adorns one of his lopsided grin before answering him.
'You bet we will!'
Liked it? Didn't like it? Did I make justice to that moment they shared and their characters? Let me know please! Thanks for reading.