Thank God for Marty Deeks.
No, not words she often had occasion to think, and certainly not a phrase she would ever say aloud. But, all the same—thank God for Marty Deeks.
She still wasn't quite sure how she had been roped into this. She had been manipulated deftly, and the feeling was rather akin to having been run over by a semi. Still, it was not the disaster she had expected.
Kensi hadn't so much approached the task of babysitting Sam Hanna's kids with anxiety or dread, so much as with a sense of apocalyptic doom. She was not good with kids, was not the maternal type, and most of all, had no earthly idea how to communicate with any normal little girl.
She figured she'd wind up stuck with the girl while Deeks taught the boy bad words and pick-up lines. After all, he didn't seem to have any more experience with the whole fairy-princess thing than she did. From what little Kensi had been able to glean from Sam, his daughter was too young to shoot, not interested in mechanics, and grossed out by fishing. That left precious little for them to talk about, unless she spent the evening teaching the girl some knife-fighting tricks.
Kensi had a niggling suspicion that her father might not like that.
But it hadn't worked out that way. The boy had gravitated to her immediately, drawn, she supposed, to the more masculine of his minders. He had excitedly shown her the gigantic model of the USS Abraham Lincoln aircraft carrier he and Sam had been working on for several weeks. She had happily set to with helping him assemble one of the fixed guns, leaving Deeks to fend for himself with miss sunshine and glitter.
He hadn't protested. She knew he could sense her relief at being closer to her natural territory, and he had unquestioningly taken up the slack to make her time here easier. He did that a lot if she was honest, went above and beyond the call of duty to take care of her. And being repeatedly swatted about the head with a pointy plastic wand while making the obligatory ribbiting noises definitely went above and beyond.
She hid her smile, but couldn't resist taking several cellphone snapshots all the same while he was distracted.
It was Deeks who directed the later activities. After her bout of model-building, she was lost on what else to do. She doubted Sam's kids (or Deeks) would appreciate being subjected to her version of cooking. She certainly didn't know what game to suggest (she had been inclined toward Monopoly, but had headed her partner's warning glare). The brunette did, however, pick the movie.
She had seen Beauty and the Beast buried in a stack by the TV, and she vaguely remembered that there had been a time when it was her absolute favorite movie. Grown-up Kensi could not fathom what her four-year-old self had seen in a Disney film, of all things, but she was inclined to find out.
She and Deeks settled on the couch in their usual TV-watching position: her on the left, him on the right, slightly touching. Halfway through the movie, Kensi remembered why she liked it so much.
She supposed she shouldn't, ardent feminist that she was, but she did anyway. There was something so innocent about the film, something she hadn't felt in a very long time. As she watched, she felt the distant echoes of her long-ago self, awash in the adventure, the music, the laughter. As she looked down at Sam's kids positioned in front of the couch, a big part of her missed the time when she had been this innocent herself.
Kensi started as an arm slid around her, and then relaxed into the silent comfort her partner was offering. She wondered how he did that. The hardened special agent knew her face would have given nothing away, it never did. But Deeks always knew. She burrowed her head into his chest, suddenly feeling the urge to cry for a childhood lost to a car bomb, for happiness sacrificed for duty.
He smoothed her hair and laid a soothing kiss on her brow. And she let him, just this once.
The energy of their young charges had finally given out sometime around halfway through the movie. Heeding their increasingly-badly-hidden yawns, Deeks hit pause and announced it was time for bed. The resultant protests were only subdued with the promise of a story first, if they went upstairs now.
They switched roles here, and Kensi awkwardly helped the little girl get ready for bed as Deeks guided her brother through the same process. After they were settled, she stood by and listened as Deeks spun a fantastic story about a group of warriors (bearing more than a passing resemblance to the team) who slew mighty dragons and fought for justice against evil and oppression.
Eventually they fell asleep, and Kensi retreated back into the living room, the soft sounds of Deeks carefully making his own exit following her. She studied the paused TV screen as he came in. Noticing the direction of her glance, he commented.
"Y'know, it really is a shame. They tuckered out just before the best part."
"Oh? I didn't know you were such a connoisseur of children's cartoons, Deeks."
"Very funny, but I was raised on Disney."
"That explains so much. So, what is the best part, anyway?"
Silently, he offered her his hand. He gave her his biggest, silliest smile, too—that one that made her heart hammer and her stomach summersault, the one she could never resist.
Tentatively, she put her hand in his, as Deeks hit play with the remote he was holding. Music filled the room as his other hand found its place at her waist. Mechanically, she placed her free hand on his shoulder, as her world was tilted sideways by a song she had forgotten she ever knew. But just the opening notes were enough, and she knew that her childhood self had once known every word of this song, and maybe she still did, all these years later.
Deeks led her in a slow dance, skirting around the coffee table to give them more room to maneuver. It was rather awkward at first, since he was trying to Waltz to a song in the wrong meter, but they adapted soon enough.
He drew her closer, and began to sing softly into her hair.
Tale as old as time,
True as it can be.
Barely even friends,
Then somebody bends,
Unexpectedly.
Deeks had a rather nice singing voice, she realized distantly, falling into the easy sway of their dance and the comfort of being held close. His baritone rumbled through her as she rested her head on his shoulder, content for once to be led, just to be.
Just a little change,
Small to say the least.
Both a little scared,
Neither one prepared,
Beauty and the beast.
It really did bear a striking resemblance to their relationship. It had not started out all that well, both reluctant and untrusting. But this man had, somehow, gotten under her skin, breached her defenses utterly, and she had certainly not been prepared to feel this.
Ever just the same,
Ever a surprise,
Ever as before,
Ever just as sure
As the sun will rise.
The dance grew slightly faster as they reached the bridge of the song, and Kensi laughed in delight as Deeks spun her, pulling her back to him even closer than before. She sang along with him as the main theme returned, astonished to find she knew the words, had always known them, even if they had been buried for so long.
Tale as old as time,
Tune as old as song.
Bittersweet and strange,
Finding you can change,
Learning you were wrong.
She faltered slightly, her rustic but pleasing contralto failing as she admitted the truth in that sentiment. For the first time in forever, she felt that she could change, that she wanted to change. She pulled back and met Deeks' eyes squarely. There was no hesitation, no turning away from him when he lowered his mouth to hers. The tentative and oh-so-sweet brush of his lips was met firmly by her own. She was done waiting, done denying herself what she knew she needed. Not now, when what she felt was—
Certain as the sun
Rising in the east.
Tail as old as time,
Song as old as rhyme,
Beauty and the beast.