1. For the days she has left to bide, Kensi develops a routine. Breakfast, work out, lunch, target practice, dinner, call Deeks. She asks the same questions: How is Monty? What did you eat today? What was the best part of your day? Deeks can't really ask anything—there's nothing he's allowed to know. So he holds up his end telling her stories that make her laugh and choke, sometimes cry a little.
("I met a man walking Monty this morning. He was set up on the sidewalk with his dog-a black lab. I went into the corner store and bought him a bag of dog food and a sandwich. He couldn't even look at me... Monty and Old Joe are buddies now.")
One time she puts her head down on her arms with the phone pressed against her ear so all she can do is listen to him breathe, and she wishes, just once, that the world were simpler or easier or just kinder. She slows her own breathing to match his—she doesn't exactly think it, won't let herself, but if she did she would think, I want to fall asleep to him breathing. She drifts, briefly, on the sound of his breaths, and then she peeks up and clears her throat and sits up and everything is normal. This is normal.
She tends to make him describe every meal in minute detail, listening with her eyes closed, and so he finds himself branching out, getting something new every time. He finds himself eating with his eyes closed, finding the words in his mind to make Kensi's mouth water. He goes through his days, too, on the lookout for the good and funny moments he can share with her. Deeks is a naturally observant guy, but going through life this way, it feels almost like Kensi is with him all day, just out of reach. It's almost the next best thing.
He tells her that, when this in-between time ends. Sort of.
"I won't be able to call you tomorrow," Kensi says, and Deeks knows that means she's leaving.
After a brief pause, he says, "I'll have to remember all my amazing stories for when we talk again. Maybe I should buy a notebook."
Kensi smiles. How can she help it? "Yeah, buy a notebook," she says. "And don't forget your pen."
"Gotcha. Pen, notebook, and patience."
"Hopefully not too much patience," she replies softly.
His chest constricts and he has to take a slow breath. "Yeah."
2. The day after Kensi receives Hetty's package, Granger gives her orders to move out.
"The jeep is packed. You'll be driven by Lance Corporal MacKenzie. He will also serve as backup should that be necessary."
Kensi nods mechanically.
"We're going to do everything we can to ensure backup will not be necessary." His voice is dry and he looks at Kensi expectantly.
"Of course," she says.
Kensi isn't exactly surprised that she got to speak to Deeks once before moving out; we've been through this already, right? The world doesn't want to give us time. We have to fight for every minute we have.
Still, she isn't sure that doesn't make this all the more painful. The thought of leaving now, no chance to say goodbye, leaving him in the lurch yet again—it tears at her gut.
In the jeep, she keeps her eyes out the window, studying the countryside. The soldier seems nervous, quiet, and Kensi doesn't make conversation. She still has no idea how long this mission will last. She still has no idea when she'll get to go home.
But she shakes it off—she's already shaken it off, because this is the mission and she needs to be on her game. It's hard to stay on your game cooped up in some ridiculous outpost where no one even bothers to learn your name, no scope or sense of the length of your pause. She did her best.
Now is her chance to prove it—get this over with and get back home.
Then she remembers what Hetty said: she has two missions here. If she's successful today, then what? Does the second mission go away, or does she get a new primary mission? To keep her here?
She growls at the window in frustration and the soldier looks fearfully at her. She smiles for his sake, tries to come up with a lie.
"Real itchy bug bite," she says, and turns to the window to hide her cringe at the worst lie she's ever told.
"Ah, oh, those can be... Yeah," the soldier says, and Kensi presses her forehead to the glass.
Game, she thinks. Get on it.