A/N: This will be a little two-shot, I think. At least, that's what I've got written. Just a plot bunny that bounded into my head as I was contemplating absurd situations they could put these two in to generate funny lines and awesome tension. Finally finished it, so I figured why not toss it up? Still on my own, so any mistakes are mine. I own nothing, they're not mine. Otherwise, Deeks would be throwing grapes at me from across the room.
The hot wind was whistling past her ears, swirling her hair in front of her face as Junior Agent Kensi Blye strained to catch what her partner was saying.
"…why not? … madman … pitched roof … could possibly go wrong?"
She got the gist, although he was muttering under his breath, the same wind tousling his blond mop of hair as he glared down at her. Kensi grit her teeth against a smart-ass reply. Seeing as Detective Marty Deeks' hands on her forearms were the only thing between her and the sidewalk four stories down, she figured now wasn't the right time to piss him off. Besides, she could tell by his slightly panicked tone (and his lack of trying) that he did not have the leverage to pull her up.
"Obviously, I wasn't planning to be kicked off the roof," she said, fighting to retain a solid grip on his arms as she dangled uncomfortably. But really, she knew this was her fault. She hadn't been expecting their middle-aged suspect to be agile enough to take out her feet before she could adjust her position on the ridge of the roof. The seconds after that were a blur of doing everything possible to slow her fall. She'd managed to grab the gutter as she slid off the edge and had held on for dear life.
Deeks, who'd taken a concealed position behind the clock tower that dominated the building's roof, had chased the suspected arms dealer away with a few well-aimed shots, but hadn't pursued. In fact he'd uncharacteristically frozen when he came around the corner and had seen her hanging there. She honestly wasn't sure how long she could have managed that position. The sharp edge of the gutter had hurt and she'd felt her fingers start to go numb, plus there was a metallic groaning sound that did not bode well for her continued survival. So Kensi had yelled a warning to him that the gutter was dubious, and he'd snapped out of it, responding with a distracted comment that she shouldn't have eaten that Twix in the car as he simultaneously called headquarters and looked for something secure to hold his own weight.
Because, really, there was no question that he was about to attempt a rescue, no matter how many weak protests she voiced about doubling the risk. He just wouldn't be Marty Deeks if he didn't try some ridiculously daring move under the guise of saving them all the messy paperwork that she supposed would come if she splattered on the pavement. And he told her she was a crazy ninja assassin. Well, she was, when it came down to it…
Anyway, that left them here. He'd carefully put his phone on speaker and then worked his way over to an exhaust vent, a little metal chimney sticking up part-way down the slanted roof and about three feet past where she'd gone down. They were both unsure that it could hold his weight, let alone their combined total, but a few tests had shown it was stronger than it looked.
So he was lying stomach down, angled back toward her with his feet locked around it. She'd done her best to inch in his direction, and when their hands had finally met the relief she'd felt had been immense and immediate. She knew she wasn't wrong – he was in more danger now than he had been a minute ago – but feeling his hands wrap around her arms and take some of the pressure off of her own tired limbs, she couldn't find it in her to urge him back to safety.
When he finally had Kensi secure in his grasp, Deeks immediately tried to heft her up onto the roof. But between his awkward, angled position and her relative dead weight, they'd scuttled that plan quickly. He had been reduced to informing headquarters that they were going to need help, and just hanging on to her while fighting the panic that still blurred the edges of his vision. He was not going to lose Kensi. And that knot in his stomach and rushing sound in his ears would just have to accept that.
His phone was in the gutter, a foot or two from where they were clasped together. It had been silent for the last 30 seconds, and frankly, Deeks was about done with waiting. His legs ached already, and his arms were starting to get sore.
"Eric, any time now. I would love to hear a plan," he ground out.
There was some indiscriminate but frantic muttering, and then Eric finally came on the line.
"We're ah… what? No! Not there! … I mean, we're almost… are those the blueprints? Bring them up! Hurry!" Eric's voice was tight and his commands were snapped out. If Deeks hadn't been so terrified he'd have reprimanded the normally laid-back tech for his tone to Nell and the others. But right now he just wanted some damn help.
"Mister Deeks? Detective, can you hear me?" The unmistakably crisp, calm voice was Hetty's. Someone must have summoned her up to the control room when the situation became clear. Deeks wasn't sure if that should make him feel better or worse.
Kensi spoke suddenly. "In case we can pick up the trail, suspect headed due south, probably exited the roof via the southeast stairwell."
Deeks glared at her. Did she really think anyone gave a shit about that right now?
"What, I was staring up at his ass as he ran away, I noticed," she said. Her quick flush under his gaze told him that she got his point.
"Thank you, Ms. Blye. I have informed LAPD." Hetty's calm voice gave nothing away, but Deeks could image the ghost of a relieved smile beneath her tired eyes. After all, he admitted to himself, if Kensi was still trying to accomplish the mission, she wasn't feeling particularly hopeless. "Speaking of which, the fire department is 10 minutes out, and Mr. Callen and Sam are 15." Fifteen minutes? Deeks' arms screamed in protest, and he closed his eyes for a moment to try and school his features and not show his concern to Kensi. Hetty wasn't done, however. "We will need to do something in the meantime. Mr. Deeks, there is a small window about four feet to the left of your position. Can you and Ms. Blye slowly and carefully adjust your position so that she can try to rest her weight there?"
Deeks tried to judge the distance from his awkward angle. He certainly couldn't swing her over without losing his own foothold, but maybe…
"Kens, can you try to get your elbows in the gutter? Use your forearms to help move?" He asked quietly, knowing the wind and street noise would keep the team from hearing his questions.
She looked up at him then, and he felt her hands squeeze his arms as if testing her own strength. "I'll need your help to get there," she said with gritted teeth. "But the numbness has gone down since we changed positions, so yeah, I can."
"Ok. Hetty? We'll try that now," he said shortly, before putting all of his focus on Kensi.
"You're going to have to climb me and hope that chimney holds," he said. Later, he would enjoy the many implications of what he was saying. Right now, he just wanted her on solid ground. "That's the only way we can do this and still have a safety net if you slip."
"Safety net?" she scoffed. "I'm pretty sure the fire trucks have not yet arrived with a kiddie pool for me to land in. And who says I'll slip?"
"I'm serious," he snapped, and they stared at each other for another moment before he continued. "If you lose your grip, I'll still have mine on you. And if the chimney gives way, you'll have a grip on me so I can use my hands to hold us on the roof."
"As long as both don't happen at the same time," she added softly.
"Yeah, but what are the chances of our luck being THAT bad?" he grunted with a touch of his normal humor. "Get started, my legs are going to give out in about five minutes."
She took a breath and moved first one, and then the other hand to just above his elbows as he curved his arms slightly, helping her. Once she nodded at him that she was secure, he released her forearms and reached further, grabbing her biceps. It was brutal and slow, and mostly silent, with Kensi concentrating fully on her task and Deeks doing his best to retain a solid hold on her as she did so while keeping an ear out for signs of distress – from her or the chimney. There was a sheen of sweat on her face, and Deeks could feel the back of his neck getting damper by the second. He watched her grit her teeth and find more strength as she inched up his arms and got her hands up to hook onto his shoulders.
He was wearing his leather jacket, and let loose a few curse words as the material started to bunch up and slide under her weight. Her elbows had been almost clear of the edge of the gutter, but the slide set them back about six inches. As he clutched as her bare arms tightly enough to leave bruises, he said a short prayer of thanks that she had just worn a t-shirt today. They readjusted so her hands were beneath the sliding coat and his were under her arms, and with a final heave, she dug her elbows into the gutter. The change in position meant that their heads were now about level with each other.
"It's a damn good thing you're not ticklish," he whispered.
"I could say the same," she answered, panting a bit from the effort of holding her body weight up for this long. "But we may need to discuss deodorant. I want my hands back with no weird man smell."
His own laugh surprised him. He hadn't yet recovered from the feeling of her sliding down, away from him and safety, and the idea of anything being funny was in itself absurd. But since she'd put out the effort, he worked to respond in kind.
"Weird man smell? Oh, you mean the sexy aroma of Old Spice, leather, and that vanilla bodywash that someone left in the shower stall at the boathouse?" He was pretty sure that someone wasn't Sam or Callen, and he doubted that Hetty's flavor was vanilla.
The horizontal move was just as excruciating. Once they'd caught their breaths, Kensi wanted to just go, let go of him and sidle over under her own power to save time, but Deeks put his foot down.
"You told me the gutter was going. We can't expect it to hold under so much pressure," he reasoned. And I'll be damned if I'm sacrificing the ability to be your safety net, he added to himself. Instead, they alternated, each sliding inches to the left and then readjusting, until her eyes lit up.
"I feel it! There's something," she said and he heard her feet exploring, looking for purchase on the slick stone building. He peered around her, trying to see so that he could direct her efforts, and almost cried out in disappointment. The window was there, yes, and her feel were dancing along its bottom ledge, but it was a tiny round thing and the ledge was barely over an inch or two. Not nearly enough to hold her weight for long. She dug her toes in and looked at him with a question in her eyes.
"You're there, it's just... it's too small. You can't really stand on it," he said, trying to keep the disappointment out of his voice. His arms were burning.
A/N: And... scene. It was tough finding a breaking spot, but I didn't want to throw 4,000 words at you all at once. Any thoughts are much appreciated, I'm rusty and love a little review love as much as the next girl.