What doesn't kill you, only makes you stronger.
At least, that's what Marty Deeks is choosing to believe.
It hadn't really hit him yet until today, that he'd almost broken his promise to Kensi that he would never get himself killed.
He can't help but wonder how many more times any of them will be able to stretch those limits and still come out alive.
Sidorov had called him 'the weak one'…but the truth is that because Deeks had gone through the torturing and lived to tell about it, he feels like maybe he's stronger now than he was before.
He feels pretty good, despite having just spent two days in the hospital and then getting his amateur-drilled torture tooth fixed just yesterday.
And he feels really good when Hetty tells him not to worry about the hospital or dentist bills — she'll take care of them.
Some days, she's like a mother to him. Other days…more like a prison warden.
Hetty has actually forced him and Sam both to stay home one more day to recuperate…and although Deeks appreciates the extra snow-day, what he really wants more is to get back into the groove of his job and put away permanently more of the scum who are like Sidorov and Janvier.
Kensi and Callen, lacking their own usual partners, have been teamed up for almost a whole week now — ever since they'd left on that plane to Iran to retrieve a one-handed Janvier.
But Deeks isn't going to let Kensi forget who her real partner is.
He pulls his cell phone from his pocket and reclines on his couch, settling in comfortably to begin another session of texting.
Kensi smiles, shaking her head at the text message displayed on the screen of her cell phone.
"Deeks again?" Callen asks with humor in his tone.
"Of course."
"He sure texts you a lot."
"Deeks will text me even when I'm sitting right next to him," Kensi answers mildly. "He thinks it's adorable…I just think it's weird."
"Well…that's Deeks for you," Callen replies simply. He has a decent amount of respect for the mop-haired member of their team…but he still can't deny that Deeks is certainly one-of-a-kind.
"He wants to know if I miss him yet," Kensi sums up the latest message. "He doesn't give me much of a chance to, what with the hundred texts he sends me all day."
She types a reply to his 'Miss me yet?', sending back, 'Not as much as you miss me'.
'Touche', she adds silently in her mind, deliberately misusing the term because she loves how much it bugs Deeks when she does it in his presence.
Switching mental gears to the task at hand, she puts her phone away as Callen parks the car in front of a crime suspect's house.
His apartment is far too quiet and boring without Monty. Poor Monty, who's stuck in Callen's house for another whole day until Callen brings him back tonight as he'd promised.
Deeks would just go get the dog back himself, but he doesn't want to imply anything to Callen about not trusting him to keep his word.
He starts typing another message to Kensi when there's a hesitant-sounding knock at his apartment door.
He saves the draft to finish later, and gets up to greet his visitor.
"Well…if it isn't Federal Agent Sam Hanna, come to check on his favorite LAPD liaison."
Sam stands on his doorstep looking very uncomfortable. For good reason too, as the purpose of his visit is quickly revealed.
It seems that Agent Hanna regrets some anti-partner attitude that he'd bristled toward Deeks at the beginning of their last mission before it all went haywire.
He's come to issue an apology.
And having a terrible time delivering it.
"Look…" Sam takes a deep breath, trying to explain his position and why he acted the way he did. "It's just that…G is my partner. Okay? Whenever anything goes down, he's my first choice to back me up."
"But he shouldn't be your only choice," Deeks refutes in irritation. "That's why there's four of us on a team — we all work together."
"I know, man…what can I say other than 'I'm sorry' ?"
Deeks huffs a humorless laugh. "I don't know…maybe 'It won't happen again'…or even 'You're a better partner than I ever give you credit for' ? Either one works good for me — take your pick."
Sam gives a reluctant nod, knowing Deeks is right and hating the very fact of it. "It won't happen again," he mimics placatingly but absent the mocking tone. "You're a better partner than I gave you credit for. I'm glad you're on my team," he adds nicely.
"Wow, even a bonus point," Deeks comments sarcastically.
It's a half-assed apology, if he's ever heard one. It doesn't sound sincere, and Deeks doubts the validity of it never happening again.
But for the sake of his team, he's willing to be the bigger man here and just let it go.
"So we're good?" Sam prompts hopefully, signaling the nearing end of his visit.
Deeks tilts his head toward the door, a small pretense of a smile on his face. "Get out of here before your wife punishes me for your leaving the house."
"Alright." Sam rises from his chair and saunters for the door. "See ya tomorrow, man."
Deeks watches the other man leave and replays his new mantra in his head.
What doesn't kill you, makes you stronger.
Exhaling a heavy sigh, he reclines on his couch once more, resuming his earlier text message to Kensi.
'I'm thinking of a number between zero and two.'
Kensi rolls her eyes at the message displayed on her screen, and closes it without replying.
But her phone chimes again after a few seconds.
'Give up? It's one…because that's the loneliest number. Just like me, right now.'
She purses her lips, allowing a little sigh to escape. Hitting the 'reply' option, she types quickly.
'I'm sorry about that, but I'll be there tonight. I promise.'
His answer takes no time at all.
'I'll be waiting.'
"It's amazing that you two ever get any work done between all the texting," Callen comments pointedly.
Guiltily, Kensi puts her phone away and silently vows to ignore Deeks' next five messages. "He's just bored. It's not usually like this."
"Well, tomorrow he'll be back to pestering you in person, just like normal."
It cheers her a little to remember that her partner will be coming back to work tomorrow. She looks forward to it…as she's sure Callen anticipates having his old partner back, too.
Not that Callen and Kensi didn't work well together…but it really just wasn't the same.
Bored and restless, Deeks tries to will the hours away. When that doesn't work, he attempts a nap.
But the nap fails him too, so he takes a long, hot shower.
He towel-dries his hair and sits on the couch again in fresh, clean clothes.
He thinks about texting Kensi some more…but she's already ignored his last chunk of messages, so even that isn't fun anymore.
This is almost worse than the time he was out of commission to recover from gunshot wounds. At least then, he'd actually been under enough pain medication to sedate him so he could sleep most of the hours away.
Finally, he grabs a book, reclines on the couch again, and starts reading.
He's just getting to the good part in the middle when his doorbell rings.
Deeks is hoping for Kensi, of course. But it's Callen instead, with an ever-cheerful Monty at his side.
"Hey, buddy," Deeks crouches down to greet his pooch properly, giving his shaggy head a good rubbing all over.
He grabs a small rubber ball off the floor and tosses it into the room behind him, and Monty trots away after it.
"Thanks for taking care of him," Deeks offers sincerely to Callen as he straightens again. "I really appreciate it."
"It was nice having a jogging companion for a while," Callen replies pleasantly. "Even if he did try to eat one of my shoes."
Deeks gives him a rueful grin. "Do I owe you a new pair?"
"Nah," Callen brushes it away, turning to go back out the door. "I didn't like them anyway."
"Alright, man. Thanks again. See you tomorrow."
"Bright and early," Callen answers simply. "Be in the gym at seven o'clock."
Deeks scoffs good-naturedly, answering with a sarcastic, "Yeah…that's gonna happen."
Pigs would sprout wings before Marty Deeks would ever be found in the OSP gym at seven o'clock in the morning.
"One of these days, Deeks," Callen calls ominously over his shoulder. "One of these days."
Chuckling, Deeks shuts his door.
Kensi should be showing up soon, he thinks. But in the meantime he picks up his book again.
He's read through five more pages when his cell phone chirps with a new message.
It's Kensi, finally texting him back.
'Knock, knock.'
'Who's there?' he replies.
'Dinner. Open your door.'
He swings the door open with a smile, finding his beloved partner and hopefully soon-to-be girlfriend standing on his doorstep.
Two bags are on the ground at her feet — one with take-out containers of her favorite Chinese food and the other with a six-pack of his preferred beer.
"Did you miss me?" Kensi asks quite solemnly, echoing an earlier snippet of conversation that they'd held via phone text.
Deeks adopts a casual pose, leaning against the vertical door frame and giving her an easy grin. "Not as much as you missed me."
He has no idea how strengthening it is for her to hear those words come out of that mouth in that teasing tone of voice.
No doubt about it. The old Deeks — her Deeks — is most definitely back.
Kensi pokes her phone into her pocket and steps over the two bags she'd set on the ground. Bringing herself toe-to-toe with him, she stops.
He can sense what's coming, and he lets her have complete control over it.
She reaches for his face, cupping his lower jaw between gentle hands and drawing his face down as she leans up to meet him.
Her lips brush over his once…twice.
Then she releases him with a long, soft look before sliding past him through his open door. "I'm hungry. Let's eat."
Deeks remains rooted to the spot for a moment, replaying in his mind what just happened.
Their second kiss.
Kind of their third, actually…if you counted that cover kiss she'd given him over a year ago when they'd posed as the married Warings.
He used to think that kiss counted, but not anymore. Because if he counts that cover kiss as real…technically, he'd have to count every cover kiss he'd ever been a part of as 'real'.
And he doesn't want to do that, because the last cover kiss he'd shared had been with that diamond-stealing Monica. And Monica's kisses — as real as they were to her — had meant absolutely nothing to him.
Because Monica wasn't Kensi.
"Deeks — are you coming?"
He snaps out of his thoughts, bending to collect the bags Kensi had abandoned on his front step.
Taking them inside, he spreads the little takeout boxes open on his living room coffee table as Kensi sets out plates and forks.
She hands him an opened beer bottle, allowing him to clink it against hers for luck before she takes a sip.
He drinks a gulp from his as well, his eyes lingering happily on her face.
Deeks is careful not to get anything on his new filling, especially anything very hot or cold.
Kensi digs into the food with such gusto that he wonders if this is the first meal she's had in days.
A trail of sauce drips down her chin, and he can't help the slight chuckle that it prods out of him as he gives her a long, amused stare.
She stops chewing. "What?" she asks around her mouthful of food.
"Would you like a bib?"
Apparently she doesn't feel the sauce on her chin because she just gives him an uncomprehending look.
So Deeks helps her out, wiping the sauce off her chin with his finger and then licking it right back off his finger with his tongue.
"Oh." Completely unembarrassed, Kensi grabs a napkin and runs it over her chin.
Even when she's shoveling food into her face like a starving pig, she's still quite adorable to him.
The food is good, and they polish off their plates. The little remainder of uneaten food goes into Deeks' fridge. He'll finish it off tomorrow.
"Alright, Fern…" Deeks leans back into his couch and picks up the TV remote. "Top Model? Yeah?"
"Brand-new episode," Kensi confirms with a smile.
"Can't argue with that." He finds the right channel and gets comfortable for the remainder of the evening.
She opens her second beer bottle and sits beside him again, pulling her feet up onto the cushion with her knees bent and resting halfway on top of his thigh.
He almost seems far away, compared with how closely they'd laid together when he was in that narrow bed at the hospital.
Deeks props his forearm across her bent legs, his hand warm through the denim covering her topmost knee.
It's such a familiar pose, yet it's completely new for the two of them.
They never did talk about that first kiss he'd laid on her. What's the point, really? Kisses are pretty self-explanatory…especially one of that magnitude.
He'd poured his heart and his frustration into all four seconds of it, topping it off significantly with 'How's that for communication?'
Message clearly received. Nothing lost in translation there.
And all she could do was gape at him, speechless.
His timing could have been a lot better, she thinks now. Flooring her with something like that when he knew she had to leave right then to keep a tail on Sam's wife Michelle.
Or maybe he timed it that way on purpose, just to throw her off balance for a while.
In any case, it served its intended effect of silencing her nagging doubts about Deeks' undercover stint with that floozy Monica and just how innocent Kensi had assumed it to not be.
And it confirmed for Kensi that she was definitely the one he wanted…and that he wanted her to want him back.
Mission accomplished.
She can't help but wonder how it might have played out, had Deeks not been captured immediately afterward and tortured horribly by Sidorov's men.
Would they have met for a beer at the end of the day and talked about it? Would they have kissed again before the day was over? Or maybe even laughed it off and filed it away as just another random part of their 'thing'?
She still can't shake the feeling that if she'd stuck by his side, and not left him there to be Sam's only backup, that maybe the kidnapping and torturing would never even have happened.
But she can't change the past, and it's not something she wants to keep thinking about, so she forces it out of her mind and focuses instead on the here and now.
She looks at Deeks sitting beside her on his couch and watching Top Model with her on his TV.
He doesn't really care for the show, she knows. He just watches it because she does.
That's only one of the many millions of things that she loves about him.
She brushes the tip of her thumb ever-so-lightly across one of the already fading scratches on his cheek. With any luck, they wouldn't even leave scars.
Her thumb trails forward toward his stubble-covered chin, then back near his ear.
Then her hand settles at the back of his neck, gently teasing at the short hairs growing out there.
He's pretending to ignore her…but Kensi won't allow him to play that game for very long.
She watches him a moment longer before parting her lips to say something to him.
Something deep and profound, designed to knock him off balance like he'd done to her.
"You take my breath away."
As focused as he seems to be on the TV, he still hears her words. Except he must think he's heard them wrong because he looks at her with a surprised, "What?"
"You take my breath away," she repeats softly, dead-serious and looking him straight in the eyes.
Nope, he isn't hearing her wrong…and it sounds more like something he should be saying to her, not the other way around.
"I take your breath away?" he echoes with a furrowed eyebrow.
She just nods. "Yeah."
"Okay…no more alcohol for you," he quips, reaching for her beer bottle.
But Kensi holds it out of his reach. "I'm not drunk, you idiot. I'm just in love with you."
A grin blossoms across his face as her words sink in. "Wow. That is…"
She half-expects him to finish with 'adorable' like he has on many other occasions.
Just not this occasion, apparently.
"…nothing like how I imagined you might confess your feelings," he finishes with unrestrained beaming.
"Well…excuse me if I don't live up to your rehearsed fantasies," Kensi replies evenly with a cute smile.
She sets her beer on the coffee table and shifts her position on the couch, leaning into him a little more and sliding one hand up to rest on his firm, muscled bicep.
She's the first to drag her eyes back to the TV, and after another moment he does the same.
But Deeks doesn't even care about watching the show and Kensi's thoughts continue to stray.
Whatever it is that he wants with her, she wants it too. Continuing to work as partners…having a personal relationship, too…maybe even adding a kid to the mix someday. Marriage. Retirement. And when the time comes (and it better be a long, long way off)…joint cemetery plots.
She'll be okay with all of it…just as long as they're together.
Nothing has killed them yet, and they have definitely come out of this stronger.