What Happens in Santa Barbara
"Why did we eat so much?" groaned Deeks. He unconsciously rubbed his abdomen as he and Kensi were leaving an all-you-can-eat buffet one Friday afternoon.
Kensi halted on the sidewalk and looked at him. "Duh. Because it was your idea to come to this place for lunch. And I don't know why you felt compelled to sample everything on the buffet, twice or even three times." She shook her head in amazement.
Deeks sucked in a breath, held it, and slowly exhaled. I'd feel so much better if I could let this belt out a notch. He considered that for a moment, but decided against it. Kensi would mock me for my lack of self-control.
"Right," he drawled. "However, I didn't see you pushing back from the table or holstering that fork."
Kensi regarded him with narrowed eyes. "What?" She would never admit it to Deeks, but she really wanted to unbutton her jeans. Better yet, she longed to be lounging on her couch in baggy sweat pants.
"Yeah, you were like the 'fastest fork in the west' attacking those Swedish meatballs," grinned Deeks.
Kensi frowned. "I was hungry. I didn't have a good breakfast this morning."
"Kensalina, donuts every morning do not a good breakfast make."
Kensi paused in digging in her purse for the car keys. "And who am I usually having breakfast with who aids and abets my eating habits?"
"Okay, I'll give you a touché there."
Before the discussion could escalate into a full-blown argument, a kid on roller blades stopped in front of them and thrust a fluorescent-green flyer at Deeks.
"Grand opening!" he yelled.
"What's this?"
The kid was plugged into his music and didn't answer. He rolled on down the street handing out flyers to other pedestrians.
Deeks quickly read it. "Paradise Paintball Palooza. Wow, trying saying that fast three times."
"Let me see," said Kensi. "It's not far from here. Have you ever played Paintball?"
Deeks shrugged. "A few times. Why?"
"Are you any good?"
Deeks sensed a challenge was about to be thrown down and pointed to himself. "Am I any good? What kind of question is that for your partner?"
He held up his hands and examined them. "You have witnessed these hands in action on the gun range, in the kitchen flipping pancakes, and, most importantly, in the bed . . ."
Kensi held up a hand. "I think I've heard enough."
"The bedroom."
She gasped and felt heat rising from her neck to her cheeks at his not-so-subtle reminder of their one steamy night together, a night when sleeping together was elevated to an art form. She swallowed nervously and tried to gather her thoughts. Butterflies in her stomach were busy jumping over all the Swedish meatballs she'd consumed a short while ago.
"A simple 'yes' or 'no' would have sufficed."
"Would it? Maybe you need a repeat demonstration of my hand prowess," said Deeks with a leer.
They were still standing on the sidewalk as buffet customers pushed through the double doors. Kensi had a vague thought that all these people were going in to stuff themselves as she and Deeks had done.
"What we need is to go back to work." She beeped the car doors open and hurried to get in. She slammed her door with unnecessary force and secured the seat belt. Deeks slid in and gave her a sexy grin.
"You're staring," she said.
I could stare at you forever. "It's adorable when I can make you blush."
She could only roll her eyes. She cranked the engine and pulled out into traffic. In an attempt to redirect the conversation Kensi said, "So, Paintball. Should we try it Saturday?"
"We can try anything your little heart desires."
She shot him a look. "We are talking about Paintball, aren't we?"
"Maybe . . . maybe not."
When Deeks failed to elaborate, Kensi jabbed the button for her favorite radio station and loud techno music flooded the car. Inwardly, Deeks cringed, but his smile never wavered.
They did not speak again until they reached the Mission. Deeks held the door for Kensi. "Yeah, Paintball. I'm on board with that. Bring it, sister."
"I am so not your sister," huffed Kensi.
He swatted her rear end as she passed in front of him. "Yeow!" She jumped and glared at him over her shoulder.
"I would never, ever, in a million years want you to be my sister," he laughed.
"Yeah, bring it, beach boy. You'll be so spotted with paint you'll look like an Impressionist painting."
"Name one Impressionist painter," he challenged.
Suddenly, Deeks' smile vanished. "Uh oh. What's he doing here?"
Kensi looked and saw Assistant Director Granger talking to Hetty in front of her desk.
"Mr. Deeks, a word?" called Hetty.
Deeks and Kensi shared a brief look before Kensi proceeded to her desk and opened her computer.
"What's up?" Deeks looked from Hetty to Granger and back again. Wonder if I've done something wrong and didn't know it?
"Mr. Deeks, the Assistant Director has just reminded me that you have not yet done the "Urban Assault" training."
"Urban Assault? Isn't that what we do here every day, assault the urban landscape of Los Angeles and environs to catch terrorists and bad guys?"
"That is correct. However, you need to complete the formal course as part of your annual evaluation."
Deeks nodded. "Okay." Sounds redundant, but what can I do?
"Wait. Does Kensi maybe need a refresher? Because we're partners and partners should be in sync."
Granger gave him a stern look. "I'm quite aware of that, Detective. Everyone is up-to-date except you."
Granger only called him that when he was annoyed with his babbling.
"Got it. So, when is this course?"
Granger's phone rang and he checked the number. "I have a flight to catch. Hetty will fill you in."
"It's this weekend, Mr. Deeks. I hope you didn't have any big plans."
Only spending quality time with the most important person in my life. He sighed. "It is what it is."
