Had anyone asked, this was what was running through Deeks' mind as he ascended the steps, barely able to restrain himself from running. Kensi was a hostage. Russian intelligence agents, spies, who were after a little black book of incalculable value and questionable existence, had taken her right before his eyes. The last time he'd seen her was through a computer screen. Footage of her standing in an empty room had been sent in place of a ransom note. No words had been necessary. They knew the stakes.

Now one of those very same Russian spies was hurrying towards the nearest exit, several feet below Deeks on a lower tier, clutching what he believed was book full of secret cold war intel. In reality, it was just a battered bird watching book, artfully disguised. So Deeks struggled with the urge to run – if the Russian realised that he'd been tricked before Deeks got to Kensi, they might both be killed. He just had to hope that Callen and Sam got to the Russian before the Russian got to the truth.

He drew his weapon as he entered the service corridor, half expecting an ambush. He cursed himself for his haste; he should have demanded to see Kensi rather than settling for knowledge of her location. He saw a door at the end of the corridor – that had to be it. Seconds later he'd kicked it in, shouting her name.

"Deeks – STOP!"

He froze at her voice; both relieved and confused to see her standing motionless in the far corner of the room. Quickly, he assessed her. She wasn't hurt as far as he could see, but there was a sheen of sweat on her face and though she remained standing stiffly, she trembled from head to foot. She caught his eye, her head tilted slightly and her eyes round and glistening and pitiful, like he'd never before seen them to be. "Turn off the lights."

He complied, finding the light switch to his right. The sudden darkness threw into contrast an intricate net of criss-crossing beams of red light. Deeks felt his heart sink.

"Okay . . . now we know why you didn't move. It's not like a disco ball kind of thing, is it?" he tried to joke, hopefully. Kensi's eyelids fluttered, possibly blinking back tears. Her hair was dishevelled, coming loose from the elastic hair tie, but she made no move to push it off her face. Her arms were held tight to her body, in fear of the lasers. Standing like that, all huddled and ruffled and shaky, made her look small and scared. And nothing like the Kensi he knew.

"They're triggers," she explained, "Break the beam, the explosives detonate."

Deeks swallowed. "Okay, yeah . . . bomb squad."

She shifted ever so slightly, fixing him with a pleading, desperate look, "Deeks, I can't stand here any longer, please . . ."

He thought of the long hours she'd been standing there for, too petrified to move even an inch in case she broke the lasers that she knew were there but couldn't see. He tried to soothe her. "No, no, it's okay, it's okay. We'll, uh . . . Plan B."

The knowledge alone that she would soon be out of there seemed to give her renewed confidence, "Okay, what's Plan B?"

"Mm?" he muttered, distracted as he examined the room for the umpteenth time, "I'm working on it." A choked exhalation was Kensi's only reply.

She watched him with bated breath as he searched frantically for an idea. Moments later one came to him, and he drew something from his pocket. It was a gun sight with a laser pointer, usually used for acquiring tricky targets. Kensi looked on as he clipped it to his gun with sweaty hands.

"What, Plan B is to put me out of my misery?" she said, the humour not quite reaching her tone.

"They're laser triggers," he explained, fumbling with the equipment and growing ever more impatient with himself, "If the collector's receiving light at the right frequency, it's not going to register that the beam's been broken."

She broke out in fresh trembles as comprehension dawned. He was going to give her a safety net to fall back on, but essentially she was going to have to navigate between the beams like a character in some sort of spy movie. She swallowed, her throat working furiously. "Okay. You've seen this being done before, right?"

"Yeah. No, I mean, kind of. Yeah, well I . . . in a, in a book – it was very helpful . . ." he saw her face fall, her eyes slide shut, "We can call the bomb squad?"

She didn't look at him, "Just . . ." She didn't need to continue.

"Okay." He levelled the laser pointer on his gun, ready to activate it.

She glanced at a beam near her feet – the first hurdle, "This one."

He forced himself to keep his eyes on the receiver, making sure his aim stayed steady. He couldn't help but glance at her every few seconds though, his nerves rattling and his blood pressure soaring. She drew close to a different beam, and he called her name in warning. She froze, and he corrected his aim. She continued.

"Okay . . . easy . . ." Out of the corner of his eye he watched incredulously as she bent backwards at an impossible angle. "Oh . . . are you kidding me?"

She glanced at another receiver. "That one."

He took aim, but the little red dot danced teasingly close to the black plastic without ever touching it. Deeks round his teeth in frustration. "I can't get it. I think you're gonna have to do this one yourself." Kensi looked at him sharply, her eyes widening in disbelief. Realising he was serious, she swallowed and slowly sank towards the ground. The only way past this next beam was shimmying under it on her belly, but it would involve a lot of guesswork on her part. She wouldn't be able to see where her feet were for much of the exercise. He whispered her name anxiously, then swallowed and glanced away when he caught an extremely good look at her backside as she wriggled backwards. Moments later she stood upright, facing him with an expression that said 'now what?'

There was no way to cross those last two feet of space. The trigger beams were to numerous and awkwardly placed for her to risk navigating through them, and no way would Deeks be able to reach the receptors with his laser. Wordlessly, he offered his hands to her, palms up, between the beams. She glanced down at them, the enormity of what they were about to do draining the blood from her face. She looked back up.

"Are you sure?"

"No," he said, holding her gaze. Slowly but purposefully, she placed her hands in his. He thought, what she was really doing was placing her life in his hands. He shifted, re-adjusting his grip and widening his stance. "On three. You ready?" She gave a tight nod. "One . . ."

"Two . . ."

"Three!"

She launched forward as he threw himself backward, pulling on her hands as he did. He heard the colossal boom of the explosion at the moment that her momentum caught up with his and she crashed into his chest. The shockwave gave their joined momentum a boost, throwing them clear of the doorway and out into the open. Heat stung his hands as they splayed over Kensi's back. Then they were going down, their flight coming to a sudden and painful end as Deeks hit the ground with a yell. Kensi's arm was behind his neck and hit first, her elbow cracking against the concrete and quickly being pinned by Deeks' neck as his head snapped back and also smacked the floor. She landed on top of him, her head bouncing off his shoulder and coming to rest again there. It took his a few split seconds to feel this, his head full of white light from the knock to the head. When he did come back into himself, it was to the sound of Sam's voice through his earpiece and the feel of Kensi's arms still around him. He moved his hands from her back to push her up enough to see her face, and at the same moment she lifted her head. His helped swipe her hair out of her face, searching her eyes to see if she were alright. Callen's voice sounded in his ear.

"We're good," he replied, finally daring to smile at Kensi. His hands suddenly dropped to her ribs to hold her up above him; she was trembling so violently from exhaustion and adrenaline that her own arms were barely supporting her. "You okay?"

She had a somewhat stunned look on her face, but after a moment she nodded. "I gotta pee," she said breathlessly.

"I think I just did," he joked, making her smile. He let his head rest back down on the ground, holding her gaze while they both struggled to catch their breath ad come down from the amazing adrenaline high. But then Kensi's breathing became more laboured instead of less, and her smile slipped to a look of confusion. Alarmed, Deeks grabbed at her as she sagged sideways, no longer able to hold herself up at all. He sat up, and in an instant saw what was wrong.

"Oh my god, oh shit . . . oh, Kensi? Kensi?"

Kensi didn't answer. She was too busy frowning in confusion over her shoulder at the enormous, jagged sliver of twisted metal that was protruding from her lower back. Then, as if finally realising that it definitely wasn't supposed to be there, she groaned and clutched at Deeks' shirt.

"Deeks . . ."

"Shh, don't panic, it's gonna be fine, we'll get you to a hospital real quick and they'll fix you up, and, you know, there are some really great hospitals around here,"

"Deeks . . ."

It's really just a flesh wound, just a splinter, it'll be fine and hey, you'll get to eat all the jello you want! And—"

"Deeks . . ."

"I said don't panic, okay! It's going to be fine as long as you stay calm and don't panic!"

"Deeks!"

"What?"

"You're panicking!"

Whatever he was about to say next stuck in his throat, and for a moment his mouth just opened and closed silently. Grabbing a fistful of his shirt, she dragged herself up his chest and put her mouth close to his ear.

"Sam?" she moaned, speaking into Deeks' earpiece, "I think we're gonna need some help up here . . ."

"Deeks? Was that Kensi? What's going on up there?"

Deeks recovered his voice and replied, "Kensi's hurt! She took some shrapnel in the back – Kensi, no!"

He was too late to stop her from wrenching metal from her back, leaving a gaping hole behind that immediately gushed blood.

"Shit! What in the hell did you do that for, huh?" he muttered, pressing his hand over the wound.

"Hurt," she slurred, her head lolling onto his shoulder

"Hey! Don't you go to sleep, you hear? Stay awake now."

"Deeks, the ambulance is on the way," Callen said, his voice tinny through the earpiece, "Sam's coming to get you, we're gonna meet them at the main gate, okay? How is she?"

"She's bad, man, really bad. One second she was fine, and then . . ." He shifted her in his lap, holding her against him so he could put more pressure on the wound. Sluggishly, she wrapped her arms around his neck, mumbling about feeling sea-sick. He could hear Sam calling, and yelled back, and moments later the other agent came sprinting round the corner.

"Deeks! What happened?"

"I don't know, she must have got hit in the explosion. She looked fine, but then she . . ."

Sam dropped to his haunches next to them, moving Kensi's hair so he could peer at her.

"Kensi? C'mon girl, talk to me." Kensi said nothing. She'd lost consciousness. "She's losing blood fast; we got to get her out of here."

Deeks watched helplessly as the larger man hefted Kensi effortlessly into his massive arms and took off at a run. Deeks jumped up, stumbling as his head span from the blow it had taken earlier, but quickly regained his balance and was hot on Sam's heels.

Callen was waiting at the gate, speaking urgently to Eric through his earpiece. They drew level with his just seconds before an ambulance came wailing around the corner. The doors burst open, but Sam had jumped inside with Kensi before the paramedics had a chance bring the gurney out.

The doors slammed shut behind him, and before Deeks quite realised what was happening Kensi'd been whisked away and he was feeling put out that Sam had gone with her in his place. Then Callen was dragging him to the car, and then they were racing to the hospital through a cacophony of angry car horns.


The first thing Kensi Blye thought upon waking up was that being awake sucked, big time. She'd been so warm and comfortable when she'd been asleep, but as consciousness wormed its way unbidden into her mind, it became clear that she was actually lying on her side in a very uncomfortable bed in a cold room that smelled strange. Where were her lovely cosy sheets and her oh-so-snugly duvet? As a matter of fact, where in the hell was she?

She cracked open one eye, and peered around the too-bright room. The light made her head pound. Then she shifted, and was overwhelmed by screaming agony that radiated from her lower back. Oh yeah, being awake definitely sucked.

She squeezed her eyes shut again, focusing on not throwing up. She was definitely in a hospital, that much was clear from her brief glance at the room. Slowly, her fuzzy mind brought dredged up the memories of the previous day. Of being trapped like a statue in that room for hour after hour. Of Deeks watching her nervously though the red beams of light. Of throwing herself into her partner's arms while the room behind her exploded. Of feeling the force of the explosion burn at her back and throw them both off their feet.

Then she remembered seeing that hunk of metal sticking out of her back, and clinging onto her partner while he tried to stop the bleeding.

She heard a noise in the room, and slowly opened her eyes again, quickly locating the source of the sound. Deeks was sprawled sideways in a chair by the window, head thrown back and mouth gaping wide open, emitting somewhat impressively loud snores. A thin line of drool ran from the corner of his mouth down his chin. Her lips curled into a smile at the sight of him in all his goofy glory, and that was when she realised something. Ever since he'd held his hands out to her back at the stadium and given her that look of total honesty and sincerity, she'd thought of him in no other form than as 'her partner'.


Please don't forget to review, especially if you want to see more NCIS: Los Angeles fics from me in the future.

Thanks for reading.