He follows her out into the clear, dark night. It is colder than most nights, but as he chases after her, one foot after the other, mind racing, the only thing he feels is his own heart.
They reach the car. Her back faces away from him, and her voice is muffled when she speaks.
"Get in."
The car door opens and she finally turns around.
His breath catches with the sight of her face. There is something new in her eyes: a hope, a determination. It frightens him; it excites him. He hesitates.
"I said get in," she repeats, eyes fixed on his, voice unmoving.
Under usual circumstances, he notes that he would probably make a joke. Oh, I like it when you get all authoritarian on me. He can practically hear the words releasing from his mouth; see her smile, hear her laugh. In a second the spell would be broken and it would just be the two of them, like old times, like nothing had changed.
He says nothing and steps in the car, hearing the door slam shut. Seconds pass like an eternity, and pretty soon he finds her sliding in next to him. She starts the car and he hears the engine purr. He wants to say something, but he isn't sure how to begin.
"Kens…" His voice doesn't sound like his own.
She doesn't answer, just keeps her eyes fixed on the road. The moonlight nestles in the creases of her face. She is…she is so…
What are we doing? is the first thought that occurs to him. An obvious one, to say the least. All of these years of lying and hiding and wondering and now here they are, speeding down an unfamiliar road to an unfamiliar place. He wants to believe it; he needs to, but still the doubt tugs at him with a fervor, urging him to wake up from this accustomed dream.
He never thought he would say it. He never thought he would have the courage. And he was pretty close to letting it go entirely. He had even considered just getting up and leaving, receding to the safe haven of his home alone, without her.
He hadn't been sure what to expect, even if he did say it, but it certainly wasn't this. Just simply looking at him with that same old mysterious smile, just a touch annoyed, just a touch pleased, and then leaving.
At first he had thought she had left him for good. Rejected him; and why should he be surprised? All of his teases, his taunts, his advances, and what did he have to show for it? Nothing but a hole in his heart and a broken smile.
But then he saw her linger at the door, giving him just enough time to get up and follow her. Something had flicked on inside of him, and his eyes had widened, and all of a sudden he knew more than either of them could ever say. He sat there for a moment while his breath trembled in his throat. Then he had risen from his chair and his legs had carried him towards her, faster than they had ever carried him before.
The car stops. Freezes, actually. It takes him a while to realize that time isn't actually standing still. She pulls out her keys and steps into the street, hurrying over to his front door. This time he doesn't wait before following her.
It's darker than it's ever been, but he can still see her silhouette shining. Pretty soon he's just behind her. She's unlocking the door, he's watching. The next few moments are an agony. It is too much for him to bear, and yet a part of him still fears what they'll find on the other side of the door.
She jiggles the doorknob. It's jammed again. She feels his warm breath on the back of her neck, coming faster and heavier than usual. Every breath sets her on fire.
She can't believe what she's doing, where she is, and at the same time she can. It's what she always wanted, what she always feared. Too many times had she hoped they would end up here, too many times had their paths crossed only to find themselves alone again.
This could have been one of those nights. He had taken her on a date, bought her dinner, smiled at her like none of it mattered. That was what he always did. Acted like it didn't matter. But it did. It does.
She wants to punch him. She wants to kiss him.
Then the door pushes open and they cross the threshold, over his welcome mat and into the unknown.
"Kensi," he whispers, his thoughts swimming.
At last she turns to him. She is smiling, and it makes him want to cry and scream all at once.
"So what now?" she asks quietly.
And then it hits him.
He loves her; loves her so much it hurts, so much he wants to tear himself apart. And he's been such an idiot all this time, such a jerk, and he wants to make up for it. He loves her, and he wants to show her.
Instead he finds himself backing up against the wall, and his voice saying, "I'm sorry."
Confusion flickers in her eyes, and in just a moment the smile is nothing more than a shadow of things that can never be. "For what?" she asks, crossing her arms.
"For…this. Taking you here." The words come out before he can stop them. He keeps talking, keeps hearing himself talk, but somehow all he can think about is wrapping her in his arms and holding her tight. "It's not right. We shouldn't have come."
He hates himself, and yet he knows he can't stop.
She can feel her heart break like glass. Every word is another knife turning in her chest, and somehow she finds herself still standing.
"You are?" she whispers slowly. Suddenly she feels so self-conscious, giving herself to him like this, throwing herself at him. He's sorry, she thinks, over and over.
And in a second she's shaking her head. She's saying, "You're right. We're partners. This is wrong." She's lying through her teeth. She wants to be angry at herself but she has already fallen apart.
She wants to get out of there, back to her own apartment, back to where she feels safe. Lonely, but safe. She can manage there. She always has. "I should go." She turns on her heel, hiding the tears. She can't bear to let him see her like this. She's never felt this weak, this small. Her hand closes around the doorknob and she turns it easily, shutting her eyes with the last of her strength, pulling it open—
Then a palm grabs her shoulder, and she whips around. It's him, and she's surprised to see tears in his eyes. He was crying, like he had been that day she had rescued him, the day that had changed everything. She sees the pain, sees the helplessness and the soft weakness within his eyes' bright color, and it paralyzes her, roots her to the spot. The power of his gaze awakens her to him, to them. Then his mouth opens and he speaks.
"I love you," he barely says, his tone hoarse. The words melt over her like rainfall in a drought.
"Now that's communication," she says breathlessly, and in a second her lips are on his.