Title: Everything's Made To Be Broken

Author: Maeve (maea)

Rating: K

Disclaimers: "Any society that needs disclaimers has too many lawyers." - Erik Pepke (but just in case... Don't sue me, please! Nah, go ahead... sue me. All I have is a soul mate and a 16 year old daughter with the penchant for calling me "Mabs"... not too much to bargain with. I'd like to see your lawyers try to argue that in court!) I don't own NCIS: LA or any of the characters within this story.

Classification: Angst, drama, teamy goodness, Densi (!)

Spoilers/Timeline: I don't do spoilers, so if you're caught up on the current episodes, I won't surprise you with anything.

Feedback: Feedback is like a drug to me! Please, feed the monkey!

Summary: She always wanted him to come looking for her, but what if a case complicates her wishes...

A/N: I haven't written or posted fic since 2003! Eek! This is so exciting to finally get my muse talking to me again! I hope I remember how to do this... ;) Title is from the Goo Goo Dolls song, Iris.

Marty Deeks struggled through the door of the 'condemned' Spanish mission leaving the glare of the early morning southern California sun at his back. He didn't have a spare hand to remove his dark sunglasses and as his eyes struggled to adjust to the sudden dimness of the room, he managed to soundly crack his shin on a errant piece of office furniture. Stifling a word inappropriate for the work environment, the LAPD detective furtively scanned the room.

"Hey... somebody should move that before someone gets hurt. Anyone?"

The main office area where the agents desks were located was vacant of all personnel when Deeks arrived with a tray loaded with coffee for everyone. Cautiously, he dropped his messenger bag and began to place the paper cups on his teammates desks. A booming voice from above startled him as he cleared a spot for the last cup on his partner's cluttered desktop.

"You are a brave man trying to get coffee for her." He looked up to see Sam watching from the balcony.

"That is where you are wrong, mon frere," Deeks said, then reconsidered the meaning of his words. "I don't have to be brave. I totally got this."

"You got what?"

Kensi stood behind him, her hands perched on her hips. He swiveled again to spot Sam up above, only to see he had disappeared from sight, though Deeks had no doubt that the man had not gone far.

He picked up the white cup and handed it over. "Coffee. My treat."

Though she accepted the coffee, her movements reflected her wary trepidation and she breathed in the aroma through the small drinking hole as if she suspected it was spoiled. Or poisoned. Or a bomb. "Why?"

"Do I really need a reason to buy my partner coffee?" Her dark eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Oh come on! Its not a trick, Kens. I picked some up for the whole team," he said with an exasperated sigh and motioned to the identical cups on the desks of Sam and Callen.

"Bold coffee, three creams..."

"...Three creams, one raw sugar and two normal sugars, with the sweeteners added *before* the creamers," he finished for her.

"Well, if you add the creamers first-"

"The sugar doesn't dissolve completely in the hot coffee." He smugly grinned at the surprise on her face. "Basic principles of coffee thermodynamics." As almost an afterthought, he added, "You do know you can't call yourself a 'low maintenance girl', Princess."

"What! I am totally low maintenance!"

"No. Not at all. A low maintenance girl orders her coffee black, or my personal favorite, no cream, two sugars."

She scoffed, "You have a favorite way a girl orders coffee?"

"Two sugars takes the edge off the bitterness. It smooths out the coffee, but the real kicker is the no cream. Tells me the girl is a real coffee purist."

"You've got to be kidding... "

"But you, my dear Kensi, your coffee order just screams high maintenance. More than three modifiers, with specific direction on how to add said modifiers. It's over the top," he blew gently on his hot beverage before taking a drink. Though he attempted to appear carefree, the look his partner was giving him caused Deeks to take a step back widening the gap between them into what he hoped was a safe distance away.

"Just because I'm particular about my hot beverages, does not mean that I am any less than easy going."

"It's not just hot beverages. It's your mixed drinks, your sandwiches, the waffles the other day at Pancake House. Hell, even your shots of liquor are complex. It's one ounce! It should be the easiest thing a bartender has to make! And please, do not get me started on your Fatburger ordering. Last time we were there you made the girl taking your order cry, for pete's sake!" He watched as she followed his lead and took a tentative sip from her hot coffee. "How is it?"

Her smile, a look of pure annoyance to the question showing clearly on her face, was an expression he knew well. "It's fine," she answered.

He could tell she was attempting to keep her tone level and collected. Deeks knew that she was nearing her breaking point, but couldn't stop himself from prodding further. "It is really fine? Or are you just saying that to appear less high maintenance?"

With swift precision, Kensi punched him in the bicep, then settled her cup on a stack of case folders to pull her ringing cell from her back jeans pocket. "I. Am. Not. High. Maintenance." She finished her conversation with him through clenched teeth, then tapped the accept button on her iPhone. "Hello?"

The voice on the other end was female and the tone was terse. "Kensi?"

"Yes?"

"Kensi, it's Helen," the woman paused, briefly considering whether she needed to continue. When Kensi did not reply, she explained further. "Jack's mom."

Her answer came out no louder than a hushed whisper. "I know." Suddenly, she was acutely aware of her partner studying her intently and would have given anything to have taken this particular phone call in private. But she knew that he would never, private conversation or not, allow her to walk away now without a fight. Kensi cleared her throat, willing her voice to behave. "It's been a while. What can I do for you?"

"It's Jack, Kensi. He's... he's missing."

The rough tough secret agent prepared herself for the worst the moment Jack's name was mentioned, but Helen's information made absolutely no sense to her. "I know, Helen. That's also been a long time..."

Kensi remembered Jack's mother as a tall, proud, stoic woman. She hardly showed any emotion when the police told them both they were calling off the search for Jack six years ago, so she was heartbroken to hear the small, panicked voice on the other end of the line. "No, Kensi. He's been back for a while now. I'm so sorry I never told you."

As a NCIS agent, Kensi Blye had been struck many times. She found out early on that a man determined not to go to jail would not go easy on her just because she was female, but the confession from her ex-fiance's mother caused the air to whoosh out of her lungs faster than any punch she had ever received.

Deeks watched with concern as the color drained from her face. Slightly lightheaded, Kensi bent over putting her free hand on her knee trying to stabilize the wobbly room, and quickly realized that she was the one that was shaking. He gingerly took her arm in alarm, but she brushed him aside.

A shrill whistle brought Kensi back to ground. She looked at the balcony to see Eric, in his favorite multi-striped Baja hoodie, standing next to Sam who, from the troubled furrow in his brow, had obviously witnessed the whole phone conversation from afar.

"Lets hustle kids! We have three dead marines on leave from Pendleton."

Kensi stared blankly for a moment at the geeky computer tech, then focused back on the phone. "I'm at work, Helen. I'll have to call you back." Ignoring the fear in the other woman's voice, she calmly ended the call and, with a confidence she did not feel, took the steps to OPS two at a time. Deeks could only grab the coffees and follow behind, completely bewildered at what had just happened.