This is a birthday present for my super awesome friend Liz. She wanted a Densi fic – so she gets a Densi fic. I hope you like it, even though it's not exactly what you asked for. :-)

Sometimes she needed the absolute silence. The stillness surrounding her while she kept unmoving, waiting for her target to show. And sometimes it was almost more than she could bear. Those were the times when she went to him afterwards.

"Hello, gorgeous. Nice to see you agai …"

She cut him off by crashing her mouth on his, because she really didn't need him to say anything. Actually she didn't want him to say anything. She wanted him to put his mouth to better use.

"Wow, slow down, Kenselina. We have …"

"Shut the fuck up and fuck me, Deeks," she almost growled, gripping the hem of his shirt, and yanking it over his head.

"Not that I'm complaining here, but …"

"If you don't shut up in the next second, I'm gonna leave and get it somewhere else," she threatened, not that she would actually go and find someone else.

She'd tried once to find release with another man, but she couldn't even kiss him. All she wanted – all she needed – was Deek's hands and mouth all over her body, and his cock hammering into her until she forgot her own name.

"Fine," he growled, and finally he didn't try to stop her anymore.

She moaned when he got rough, almost ripping her shirt apart, his mouth latching on her nipple while he shoved one hand into her pants. They tumbled into bed, and he took her hard and fast, their skin slapping together as he pounded into her, and she was so close, could feel her body already fluttering with the first signs of her climax, but then he slowed down. The bastard.

"Look at me." She tried to refuse, but she couldn't, and she opened her eyes and looked up at him, almost drowning in the feelings she saw swirling in his eyes. She wanted to hit him, she wanted to bite him, she wanted him to go back to his merciless fucking, but instead a lump formed in her throat, and her fingers skimmed over his back as he shifted atop of her, his hand slipping between their bodies, pressing against her clit. "Come on, Kens. Let go. I've got you."

She closed her eyes then, feeling tears pricking the back of her eyes as he stopped fucking her and made love to her, and then he murmured it again - 'I've got you' - and his hoarse voice pushed her over the edge, and instead of the exploding climax she wanted to have the orgasm she had made her lose her breath with its intensity, shaking her to her core.

"Kens?" he murmured, but she just pushed him away and crawled out of bed, leaning down to retrieve her clothes from the ground, ignoring the still rapid beating of her heart. "Are we ever gonna talk about this?"

"About what?" she asked, pulling her shirt over her head.

"This," he said, waiting for her to look at him before he motioned between them. "Us."

"There is no us," she replied harshly, shoving her feet into her boots and tying them swiftly without looking at him. "We're having sex. That's it."

She wasn't sure, but she thought she might have heard him mutter 'Keep telling yourself that, Kens' when she walked to the door. And the stubborn voice in her head was repeating the sentence on a loop.

Keep telling yourself that. Keep telling yourself that. Keep telling yourself that.

What was she even doing here? She'd been the one saying that what they had was only sex. Why was she sitting beside his hospital bed then, waiting for him to wake up after his surgery? He wouldn't let her live it down when he saw her here. But she still couldn't walk away, because he'd been shot and she needed to make sure that he was okay.

Leaning forward, she brushed his hair back from his forehead, lingering for a few seconds before she removed her hand again, suddenly getting hit by the memory of how they met.

-/-

"Is this seat taken?"

She already had a harsh retort on her tongue as she turned around, but the words didn't come out. She met his eyes, and something about his unruly hair, about the smile on his face, something made her choose not to send him to the curb, and she just shrugged her shoulders.

"So what are we drinking?" he asked, eyeing her drink. "Ah, I see. The good stuff." He waved for the barkeeper, and without asking her, he ordered. "Two more of what the lady drinks."

Her hackles went up, because she didn't like when men thought they could just roll over her. But she was tired, just coming home from an assignment, and she just couldn't find it in her to argue. She just wanted to drink.

"So what brings you to this godforsaken place?"

"Definitely not the company," she huffed, gripping her tumbler and taking a huge gulp, savoring the harsh burn of the alcohol down her throat.

"Wow, that hurt," he replied, leaning back and clasping his hands over his heart.

She should have rolled her eyes, but instead his theatrics made her smile, and four scotchs later she pushed him through the door of his hotel room and shoved him against the next wall. She definitely wanted to feel his scruff against the skin of her thighs, and she always got what she wanted. At least when it came to men. They never said no to a one-night stand. Never. He was exactly like all the others.

God, was she wrong.

He was definitely not like all the others. She didn't know how he did it, but he knew exactly what she liked as if he could read her mind. Normally she could be glad if she even climaxed when she jumped into bed with a stranger. Most of the times it was just a quick fuck that helped scratch the most urgent itch, but he … damn, he was really good.

"Do I at least get the honor to know your name?" he asked, propped up on one elbow as she pulled on her clothes afterwards, and she was really tempted to crawl back into bed with him as she looked at him, all rumpled hair and sleepy eyes.

"What's yours?" she asked in return.

"Deeks," he replied, and damn, this smile was really not fair. "Marty Deeks. But everyone calls me Deeks."

"Deeks? Strange name."

"Hey, you didn't tell me your name," he called after her as she took a step towards the door.

She almost walked out without telling him. Almost. "Kensi. My name is Kensi."

-/-

She'd felt an immediate connection with him, and if she was honest with herself – not that she would tell him that – it never had been only about the sex. Though this first night had been remarkable. Because his mouth wasn't only good at talking. It was actually way better when he went down on her, and licked her to an earth-shattering climax. She had to give him that; he definitely knew what he was doing in bed, and even now – as he was lying eerily pale in the hospital bed – she felt the familiar arousal pulse through her when she looked at him.

The minutes ticked by, and she felt more and more restless. She could spend hours not moving at all, but here – with him – she felt the almost unbearable urge to flee before it was too late. And then it was too late, because he stirred and opened his eyes slowly, a smile pulling his lips up as his gaze fell on her.

"Hey, gorgeous."

"Hey."

She ignored the skip of her heart, because she was not falling in love with him. She was not.

"You're a perfect nurse, Kenselina. But maybe if you could wear one of those …" She smacked him over the head before he could finish his sentence. "Hey, that hurt."

"If you can crack jokes again, you're apparently feeling a lot better. Maybe I should …"

"No!" She whipped her head around, surprised by the vehemence in his voice, and her heart leaped into her throat when she saw the earnest expression in his eyes. "Please stay."

Later she would realize that this had been the moment of no return, if she'd wanted him to stay the man she only had occasionally sex with she would have left. But she didn't. She stayed.

"Maybe for a little while longer," she mumbled, and she bit back a smile when his face lit up with a huge grin.

"That's my girl," he replied, and patted the mattress beside him. "Come up here."

She'd never once cuddled with a man in her life. All she ever wanted from men was sex, and nothing else. But with him … this cuddling thing might not be as bad as she always thought, and she turned around, feeling him spoon her from behind and pull her even closer.

"See, not that bad at all."

She fell asleep with a smile on her face.

-/-

She woke to butterfly kisses being pressed over her stomach, and she opened her eyes slowly, looking down at him. He shouldn't exert himself; she should stop him.

"I need you," he rasped, and suddenly she didn't want him to stop.

He made love to her – she couldn't call it anything else – feather like touches of his mouth and hands, his tongue coaxing an orgasm out of her that left her breathless and completely dazed, and then he was hovering above her, pushing her legs wider apart and sliding into her, his fingers entwining with hers, pressing her hands into the pillow beside her head while he took her with deep, languid strokes, not stopping before she fell apart underneath him again.

He crashed down on her afterwards, making it hard to breathe, but she couldn't care less. She felt completely relaxed, her whole body humming with satisfied pleasure. But apparently he still could move, because he tilted his head, his lips whispering over her neck, and then he breathed the words, barely audible, words that simultaneously made her heart skip and squeeze it in terror.

"I love you."

She didn't say it back. Couldn't say it back. Even though she knew, deep down, that she felt the same way.

She should have told him that she loved him. All this crap about not wanting to have any regrets … it was true. Because now she regretted it more than anything that she'd never said those words to him.

It was too late now.

She knew she would never make it out of here alive. Because she wouldn't break, she would not tell them what they wanted to know, and she'd seen it in their eyes. They would take it even further soon, and since she was a woman further meant, they would rape her.

She tried to stay detached, tried to run through scenarios in her head - how she could possible take some of them with her when it came to it, or how she might be able to kill a few before they were able to rape her.

But no matter how hard she tried, his face kept popping up in her mind. She saw his smile, heard his laughter, remembered the way he felt moving inside of her, remembered the way she felt whenever he told her he loved her.

When she was sure everyone was asleep, and no one would come into her cell for a while she let herself cry for all the things she'd lost, all the things she'd never do, all the words she should have said and didn't.

-/-

She heard the heavy footfalls outside, straightened herself, ready to fight. This might be the day they would slip and come too close to her, the day she finally could take revenge and take some of those bastards with her.

She ignored the pain slicing through her body, concentrating only on what was lying ahead, forcing herself to forget about him, to not think about him. Not now. It would make her weak, and she couldn't be weak.

The door burst open, light blinding her for a moment, and then someone crouched before her, and she was already about to kick him when he spoke. "Kens, it's me." She blinked a few times until her eyes adjusted to the brightness, and stared up at him, wondering if this was all a dream. "It's me."

"Deeks?" She was hardly able to speak, her voice a hoarse rasp.

"Let's get you out of here."

She stumbled outside with him by her side, her hand clutching his jacket as if he would disappear when she didn't keep holding on to him. He was talking to someone, she didn't listen, just leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder.

He saved her. He came to save her.

"Kens?"

"I … I …" She wanted to tell him now, but the words got stuck in her throat, and tears welled up in her eyes. Why couldn't she tell him? Why could she still not say the words?

"Shhh." He pulled her into his arms, his hand cupping her head and holding her close. "It's over now, Kens. It's over. I've got you. It's over."

And she just let herself fall, holding on to him as the tears streamed down her face.

The bruises were almost gone, the twinges didn't bother her much any longer, and the nightmares got fewer and fewer, too.

She knew it was mainly because he hadn't left her side ever since he rescued her. Well, she did put her foot down when it came to needing to use the bathroom, because she would not pee in front of him, and she did do some grocery shopping on her own, but most of the times he was with her.

But she still hadn't told him.

"Don't you need to get back to work?" she asked him, slipping on the bar stool.

"Not really," he replied, busying himself with assembling all the ingredients for pancakes on the counter.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"I quit," he said nonchalantly as if it wasn't a big deal.

"You did what?"

"They didn't want to let me take a vacation, so I quit."

"You're an idiot," she huffed, shaking her head when he turned around.

"Yeah, an idiot who loves you." Her heart skipped a beat when he leaned down and kissed her briefly, before turning around again.

Another perfect opportunity she let pass because the words just didn't want to come out, what frustrated her to no end. She loved him. She knew she did. So why wasn't she able to tell him?

"So, what are you gonna do now?"

"Not sure yet."

"I thought about applying to NCIS," she said, speaking out loud what had been swirling around in her mind for some time now. But the next words just popped out without her thinking it through. "Wanna join me?"

He froze for a second before turning around slowly, the expression on his face more serious than she'd ever seen it. "You sure about that, Kens?"

She didn't even hesitate before answering, "Yeah, I'm sure."

"So it's a deal then?"

"It's a deal."

He whistled a tune she didn't recognize while making the pancakes, and then he slipped the plate in front of her. The pancake was decorated with chocolate syrup and whipped cream; there was a smiley face and a heart, and suddenly her vision blurred, and her heart squeezed in her chest as she looked up at him, and saw the goofy grin on his face.

"I love you," she whispered, chuckling through the tears as the grin slipped off his face and was replaced by a completely baffled expression. "God, Deeks. I love you."

He was by her side in an instance, pulling her into his arms, and she buried her face in his chest, wrapping her arms tightly around his waist.

"Took you long enough to admit that," he told her in a gruff voice, and she let out another chuckle.

"Yeah, I know," she murmured. "Sorry."

She didn't know how long they were holding on to each other before she felt his lips press a kiss on her forehead. "Let's eat the pancakes before they get cold."

"Okay," she replied, loosening her grip around him and letting him go.

He put another plate down, and sat down on the stool beside her. Grabbing the fork, she watched him out of the corner of her eyes, and her heart fluttered when she saw that he was fighting to keep a grin in check, but failing in the end, the grin staying on his face while he shoved the pancake into his mouth.

Yeah, she loved him. She really, really loved him.