A/N: Short, contemplative, one-shot from one pov.
A little honesty here – it's been a long time since I've written anything. But I've read a lot of great NCIS LA stuff and it's been on my mind to try my hand. This is a little fun I had while playing with writtenkitten (google it) and I wound up liking it. No beta, so just me. One of these days, I'll be a more active poster.
Her eyes shone in the fading light, and he hesitated to break the silence. She was looking out to sea, lost in the sunset and the crashing waves, an unusual calmness rolling off her. He hadn't often seen her so at ease, and so he waited, resisting the urge to fill the void with silly nothings that actually meant so much more if you were listening to them properly. At least when he was around her.
Sometimes he thought she was on to him, that she was aware of the immense amount of his mind that was occupied by thoughts of her. Her stubborness, her loyalty, her hidden vulnerabilities, her sweet tooth, her scarred and battered heart. They loomed in the back of his mind, and with each passing day his trademark chatter was honed and directed to her moods, thrown into silences that she needed to end.
He could make her smile, and secretly felt that it was his own personal superpower. The others might have longer histories or know more of her exploits, but he was the one who could distract her when she most needed it. She had teased him for weeks after, but he knew the one-case switch in partners had left her anxious. If pressed, she'd say she was used to him, or that it was intimidating to work with her boss, but he knew better. It wasn't just familiarity, although they were starting to achieve that. She looked for him in the mornings, he'd caught her doing it more than once. More than that, she trusted him. Deep down, below the banter and the eyerolls, when bullets flew or an op went south, she had shown over and over that she trusted him. Trusted him to cover her when she did something crazy-ninja stupid. To get her back if she was taken.
He dug his feet into the sand, and looked out at the water himself. They had a meeting in an hour. They could have made it by now and been going through files and checking in with co-workers, but as they'd climbed in the car he'd sent a message to the techs, asking if they could back up the story of getting stuck in traffic for the next 45 minutes. There'd been a tired set to her face and a heaviness in his chest after the last interview, and he'd decided they needed to recharge. It was a testament to how right he was that she did no more than raise an eyebrow when he turned off the freeway for a mostly empty beach parking lot. And half an hour later, here they sat.
He snuck a sideways glance, and found that she was watching him this time. She answered his eyebrow waggle with an eyeroll, and sighed, breaking the silence at last.
"I think that's the longest I've witnessed in two years as your partner without words coming out of your mouth."
The snark was typical, but the tone of voice was still tired, and a little bit grateful. She was well aware that quiet wasn't his default setting.
"Ah, but what you didn't know was that we were playing an epic version of the silence game: loser talks first. And of course, loser buys dinner."
His voice was light, telling her that she could wave it off if she wanted to, or start an argument about rules imposed at the end of a game that wasn't declared. Instead she delighted him when she gave a little snort of laughter.
"Yeah, yeah. Fish taco stand two exits down? Or are you angling for burritos?"
His answering smile was immediate, and he started debating pros and cons of each out loud as they dusted the sand off and jogged back to the car. Her step was lighter, and his chest was looser. Plus, he really did like that burrito joint by headquarters.
Mission accomplished.