Night at the Boat Shed
"I can't wait to get home and bask in uninterrupted air conditioning," sighed Kensi. She plucked at her tee shirt to keep it from sticking to her chest.
"Ditto that," said Deeks as he mopped his forehead with a paper towel he found in the door pocket of Kensi's car. The cleanliness of the crumpled towel was debatable, but at the moment he didn't care. "I'm tempted to take off this shirt right now."
They were pulling into the drive-through lane of a fast-food place. Kensi shot him a glance. "Please don't."
Deeks feigned surprise. "What? Afraid you won't be able to control yourself, that you'll be tempted to crawl over this console and have your wicked way with me?" His eyebrows shot up and he grinned.
"Not likely," she snorted. "I'm afraid you'll scare the poor clerk and she'll mess up my dinner order. And you do not want me to be hungry." As if to underscore that statement, Kensi's stomach rumbled.
Deeks nodded, but said nothing. Only hungry for me.
Two cars were ahead of them. Kensi regarded him with narrowed eyes. "What? What are you really thinking?"
Deeks cleared his throat. "I'm thinking about what I want to order from the vast and varied menu of this fine establishment."
"I doubt that. You get the same thing every time we come here."
"Not every time," he protested. "And what if a guy wants to change it up a bit?"
She waved a hand. "Go ahead. It's a free country."
The car behind them leaned on the horn. Kensi frowned as she glanced in the rearview mirror. "Okay, okay, I'm moving." She eased forward in the line. "Everybody's cranky tonight."
"Look at that bank sign." Deeks pointed across the street. "A hundred and one degrees."
"It feels more like two-hundred and one," said Kensi.
Deeks was squirming in his seat and peeling the sock off his right foot. "Yeah and I have one, wait, make that two, blisters the size of Texas on my heel. Chasing those sailors today was brutal."
Kensi's eyes rolled up in her head. "Really? You couldn't wait until we got home before filling the car with your stinky foot odor?"
Deeks chuckled and tried to crank up the air conditioning.
"It's already at the max," said Kensi. "And why is everything I say funny?"
"Because you're so adorable when you're stressed."
"I feel like punching you right now."
"But you won't because you need to keep both hands on the wheel," Deeks reminded her.
Not to be outdone, Kensi retorted, "But I am dropping you at your place and going home alone."
Let's see what Smarty Marty has to say about that!
Deeks sucked in a breath. "What will Monty think about Mom and Dad fighting?"
A scratchy voice came over the intercom. "Can I . . . take . . . your order?"
Five minutes later, they had multiple bags of food and were headed towards Deeks' apartment.
Kensi's stomach growled again. "I'm starving."
Deeks pulled a couple French fries from a bag with a napkin. "Open wide." Fortunately, they were at a red light. He leaned over the console and Kensi opened her mouth to latch onto them. She chewed and gave a moan of contentment.
"See what a good partner I am," he said. "And I did not contaminate you with foot cooties."
She made a retching sound. "If I get sick, I'm gonna kill you," she threatened.
Now they had reached Deeks' apartment. Kensi acted like she wasn't coming in.
Deeks gave her a sad look. "Come on, Kens. At least eat with me. I hate eating alone. If you want to leave after that, you can. You know Monty will want to see you."
Kensi regarded him for a moment and cut the engine. "Fine. For Monty."
"Yes!" said Deeks and went to open the front door. Monty was scratching and whining on the other side.
"I know, buddy. It's been a long day for everyone."
He opened the door and hot, dead air greeted him. Monty rushed out and began barking. "Oh, this is not good." Then he saw the sticky note that had fallen off the door.
"Rolling blackouts. You may or may not have air conditioning tonight," he read. It was signed by his landlady.
"Get Monty's stuff. We'll go to my place," said Kensi.
Unfortunately, the situation was no better at her apartment. Her elderly neighbor was putting an overnight bag in her car. "Going to my daughter's. At least her air's working."
Kensi and Deeks shared a look. "Now what?" wondered Kensi.
"Motel," said Deeks. His voice held no enthusiasm. Any other time the prospect of spending the night in a motel with Kensi would be exciting. But tonight they both were hot, tired, sticky, and hungry. It would not be a night for romance.
Kensi pursed her lips. "No fleabag, roach motel," she stated firmly.
"Would I take the princess to such a place?"
She grabbed his arm. "Come on. We're wasting time."
After checking with four different hotels, they still did not have lodging for the night. "No room in the inn," said Deeks. "Everybody seems to have had the same idea."
"I really don't want to sleep in my car," sighed Kensi.
"What about crashing with your mom?"
Kensi considered that. "We could, but my aunt from Denver is visiting and that might be . . ."
"Awkward?" said Deeks.
"Yeah. She's very inquisitive."
"Wait a minute. What about the boat shed? We're almost there anyway."
Kensi nodded. "I like it. And no one will bother us there."
Deeks grinned. "Oh, were you planning on doing something besides sleeping?"
That earned him a slug. "Easy, Kens," he said as he rubbed his arm.
The dock around the boat shed was silent and deserted. Deeks lugged their "go bags" and food bags out of the car while Kensi bent to pick the lock. Their keys for the lock were back at the Mission.
"Done. Amateurs must have installed this lock," she said as she stood.
They took their stuff inside and closed and locked the door.
Deeks went and stood under one of the vents with his arms outstretched. "Ah, air conditioning!"
Kensi opened the food containers and bags and arranged them on the rickety wooden table. "Dinner is served," she announced.
Unknown to the pair, when Kensi picked the lock a silent alarm was triggered in Ops. Eric was pulling a double shift due to the food poisoning suffered by the 3 to 11 p.m. tech. He was surprised when he looked at his monitor. Before he had time to wonder what was happening, the phone rang.
"Mr. Beale, is something amiss at the boat shed?" asked Hetty.