Title: A Matter of Trust
By: Jessica
Pairing: Kensi/Deeks
Rating: T
Timeline: Post 2x08; Bounty.
Summary: She's more likely to betray her own common sense and the rules that would keep them apart than she is to ever betray him.

A/N: This...started as one thing and then morphed into something else without my permission. Not really what I envisioned, but...eh. We'll go with it.

Palms flat against his chest, she pushes him backward, one steady shove that gives away her every intention. He stumbles in the darkness, a yelp of surprise wrenched from lips that only seconds before had been locked firmly with hers. It doesn't matter how they got here, doesn't matter why they're here, and Kensi's not even sure she could answer that anyway if asked. Everything is a blur in her mind; one moment he was making some quip about hoping she wouldn't kill him in his sleep – a not so veiled allusion to his lack of trust in her – and the next moment her fingers were clutched in the front of his shirt and her mouth was fiercely attached to his, a kiss neither of them saw coming.

He manages to breathe out her name before her hands find his chest again, guiding him the rest of the way to where she wants him. Confusion mixed with desire, that's the message she gets from him, and Kensi makes a quick mental note of the tension in his body, tension he tries but fails to conceal. He's tense not because of the situation, but because of the darkness, the suddenness, his abrupt surrender of control to a woman he can't say for certain that he trusts.

Kensi will never admit it aloud, but that single fact right there drives her insane. His hands find her upper arms, but rather than submit to the spark that the contact produces, Kensi shakes off his touch, for now at least. "Kensi…"

It's almost a protest, but why, Kensi doesn't know. The attraction is palpable; she knows he feels it too. The devilish glances, the effortless banter, the witty innuendo…yeah, she knows he feels the attraction. He has too much fun with it not to feel it. So, she deduces, the quiet, almost unwilling protest in his voice can only stem from one thing. "What?" she murmurs, grazing her lips along his chin, "don't you trust me?"

She doesn't give him the chance to retort; with one more strong push, the back of his knees hit the edge of the bed and buckle beneath him, bringing him to rest on the mattress. He blinks; confused, overwhelmed, and he'd be lying if he tried to say his heart wasn't pounding against the wall of his chest with desire. It's too dark to see clearly; only enough light seeps through the curtains to cast shadows upon the walls, shadows that dance in and out of his peripheral vision. He doesn't have that small luxury of sight with Kensi, though; completely cloaked by the darkness, he can only feel her.

And feel her he does as she deftly straddles him, her knees on either side of his hips, her lithe body melding against him. She smiles devilishly, feeling more than hearing the catch in his breath, the almost inaudible groan he gives as she experimentally rocks her hips against his. "Kens…" he murmurs, and not for the first or the last time she wishes for more light; wishes she could clearly see the crystal blue of his eyes as they darken with desire.

The unnecessary illumination though would give away their location, and there are a number of reasons why Kensi is not about to break their cover. To be discovered by the very suspects they were supposed to be watching would be one thing; to be found by Sam or Callen because they'd seen the light and taken it as an indication that something was wrong…well. Kensi's not going to take the chance.

For now though she lets all rational thought flow from her mind, allowing desire and lust and desperation to drive her. She wants this, wants him, and she's tired of ignoring it. And she knows she's not alone; she's seen those smoldering blue eyes of his linger on her just a moment too long, when he thinks she's not looking. He might not trust her too much, but he wants her just as much as she wants him.

Threading her fingers in his unruly blonde hair, Kensi guides his mouth back to hers for a kiss that he's powerless to deny. Lips mesh together, tongues wage a silent battle for control, control that Deeks doesn't want to relinquish, least of all to her. Relinquishing control would be equivalent to placing his trust in her, and Kensi can sense that he's not quite ready to do either of those yet. By the end of the night, though…it'll be a different story.

His steady hands grasp her hips, pulling her fully against him and Kensi doesn't resist. In the back of her mind, she hears the reprimands; hears them, but heeds them not. Right now, she doesn't care that she works with him and that because of that, they shouldn't be in this position at all. She doesn't care that they're currently on assignment and, if anything, should be working over the details for tomorrow with each other. What she does care about is the heat of his body against hers, the taste of his lips on hers, the feel of his hair between her fingers and damn it, this was going to happen eventually, she just knows it.

And that's his fault. His fault, for looking at her everyday as if he knows all of her secrets when he won't let her anywhere near any of his. His fault, for that little smirk of his that drives her imagination wild. His fault, for being in such close proximity to her all of the time that she can't help but feel him, sense him, smell him, want him. God, she wants him.

And that's most definitely his fault. As if to emphasize that, Kensi nips sharply at his lower lip, satisfied for a moment with the rough grunt of surprise he gives before swiping her tongue over it, soothing the flash of pain. She's playing rough; she knows that. Also knows that anything less frantic would give her – or him - time to reconsider this, and that's exactly what she doesn't want.

She falters slightly when suddenly the warmth of his palms, rough and masculine, find bare skin as they sneak just beneath the material of her shirt and settle on the smooth curves of her hips. Electricity floods her body and sets her every nerve alive and the sound that slips from her lips against his can only be described as a whimper because she's already envisioning those hands elsewhere and that's enough to have her shuddering against him.

Almost of their own volition, her fingers steadily drift their way to his chest, dancing their way over muscles and material and settling over the buttons. Deftly she unhooks the first and the second, never once breaking the connection between their lips. The third follows…then the fourth, and just as she's slowly teasing the fifth undone, Deeks' hands sneak upward, gently capturing hers and halting her progress, if only momentarily. Kensi protests, though she's not quite sure if it's because he stopped her hands or because he broke the kiss – probably both.

"Kens…" he murmurs, his voice roughened by arousal and shortness of breath. He swallows hard, almost as if buying time while formulating something articulate in his head, though all that comes to his lips is another shallow, throaty murmur of her name and damn if it doesn't sound oh so seductive to Kensi's ears. "Kensi."

She smirks slightly, ducking her head in close to his again. For a moment, their foreheads touch and even in the midst of the desire and need surrounding them, the tenderness of the gesture isn't lost on either of them. The warmth of his breath plays upon her skin and Kensi shivers, slowly extricating one hand from his and drawing it upward to cup his cheek. "Trust me," she whispers, the words dancing sultrily across Deeks' parted lips. "Trust me."

Heart pounding madly, she waits. Waits for him to give the okay; luckily, she doesn't have to wait long. The tiny distance between them becomes nothing as he tilts his head, capturing her lips in a kiss that speaks of far more than just primal desire. He wants this, wants her, wants to let her in despite whatever old instincts might tell him. And so she lets him lead for a moment, leaving the tempo of the kiss in his hands until he releases his grasp on the hand he still holds.

And this time, when her fingers begin to play at the buttons of his shirt again, his hands clutch in the hem of hers and begin to tug it upward.

-:-

She has to stop this.

Whatever this happens to be, that is, because Kensi Blye refuses to admit that what she's doing is fantasizing about a coworker while at work. Or anywhere outside of work either, for that matter. She just refuses. It's not professional. And he's very annoying.

Very annoying.

Very attractive.

She can't stop staring at him. It's discreet and from across the room, but it's staring nonetheless and damn it, she has to stop that. It's his fault, though. If he could only trust her just like the rest of the team trusted each other…

Kensi's not entirely sure why that bothers her as much as it does.

That's a lie and you know it.

The allegation reverberates loudly in her mind, giving her no opportunity to ignore it. No matter how much she tries to convince herself otherwise, she does know why it bothers her so deeply. She tries to tell herself that it would bother her just the same if it were Callen or Sam or any other agent, but that's not entirely true. There's a lot she doesn't know about both of them, but that doesn't irk her nearly as much as knowing there's a lot she doesn't know about Marty Deeks.

She has to know what makes him tick. Underneath the playful, cocky exterior, beneath those crystal eyes that Kensi could easily lose herself in were she to let down her guard even just a bit…what exactly is it that drives him? What are the secrets he carries behind that carefree smirk?

Kensi wants to know his secrets. She doesn't want to want to know, but she does. She can't help it. The moment that Deeks' lack of trust in her became apparent was the moment she found herself aching for him to trust her. It hit her out of the blue and she hasn't been able to let it go since.

She tries to tell herself it's because they're partners. Sam's outburst that morning had made abundantly clear the importance of trust between partners – not that she hadn't known that before, but in the aftermath of what had been a significant blow to her, it had carried a heavier meaning. She knows all too well what the consequences of the lack of trust can be – in the field, it could mean anything from capture, injury, or even death.

Kensi's a good shot. In the field and in the firing range, and she knows Deeks knows that. He's seen it firsthand. She would absolutely have his back no matter what the circumstances, but, as Sam had said, what good was that if Deeks didn't trust her to have his back? What good was it if Deeks did something stupid in an effort to save himself because he didn't trust Kensi to take control of the situation?

He'd said it wasn't personal. But that's exactly what it is. And it hurts.

She's comforted, though, by the fact that she's made at least a bit of progress with him. It's a very small comfort in the long run, but at least it's something. She knows the kind of relationship – or lack thereof, really – that Deeks has with his father. In the car just the other day, he'd finally revealed the story behind why he carries the gun he carries; why he doesn't want anyone else to touch it; why he doesn't trust anyone else to take it. It had saved his life, that Beretta, and it's clear that he places his trust in that. It's probably never done him wrong.

On the other hand, a partner can always shift allegiances, and Kensi realizes with a sickening jolt that in his years of undercover work for the LAPD, he's probably had a number to do just that.

Closing her eyes, she thinks back yet again to the moment they'd shared in the car. It'd been a huge step for him; that much she'd realized then just from the gravity of his gaze. His eyes never parting from hers, he'd offered her his gun, willing to let her take a look. But something else had been in his eyes; something that had made her decline. Reluctance, she realizes now. Reluctance, wariness, guardedness. He'd offered it as something of an olive branch, but deep inside he'd been fearful of her accepting it.

The gesture had taken a lot, and Kensi can't deny that it was sweet. But did it really mean anything?

She sighs, allowing her eyes to slowly flutter open once more. Could Deeks ever fully place his trust in her? Could Kensi ever find herself at the point where the fact that he couldn't do that yet wouldn't hurt so badly?

So many questions with no answers – Marty Deeks is truly an enigma to her, she thinks. A puzzle for which she wants so desperately to find the missing pieces; a mystery that she wants to be the one to solve.

She wants him to trust her.

After all, she can admit freely - in her own mind, at least - that she would trust him with her life.

Feeling her eyes upon him, Deeks glances up then. Crystal blue locks with the deep brown of her eyes, and Kensi can't stop the beat of her heart from quickening. The fluttery sensation in her chest dizzies her – or maybe that's the smile he sends her way. Half smile, half smirk, the kind that gives her the sneaking sensation he can see right into her soul. Her breath catches, and Kensi has to force herself to break that connection when all she wants to do is lose herself within it.

Her imagination drifts back to the fantasy she'd entertained just moments before, the fantasy she'd managed to wrench herself out of before it went too far, before it went exactly where she wanted it to go. She feels the warmth in her cheeks and knows that if Deeks is still watching her – and she's sure he is; she can feel his gaze on her – he'll craft some playful quip about her daydreaming about him, never actually knowing that that's exactly what she's doing.

She rises abruptly from her chair at her desk...her desk that he'd propped himself against in the midst of their argument and unwittingly sparked her imagination with vivid images of him throwing everything to the floor and effortlessly setting her atop it – stop it, Blye! Now!

Trying her hardest, she shakes her head clear of him and briskly begins to make her way toward the door. Destination unknown, all Kensi knows right now is that she can't be in the same room with him any longer – not without driving herself crazy. Mentally crossing her fingers, she hopes and prays that he doesn't call out to her as she makes her escape.

Apparently, though, all the hopes and prayers in the world aren't enough, not this time. "Kensi?" he questions, and she feels the weight of his gaze on her as she pauses in the doorway. More than anything, she wants to meet his gaze…but no. She won't let herself. "Everything okay?"

She nods sharply. "I'm good. Just – just need some air, that's all."

And before he can question her further, she's out of there, wishing she could leave behind the incriminating visuals in her head as well, but heaven only knows how long those will follow her.

She tells herself it's only a matter of trust. That it's most certainly not because she wants him so badly she could scream; it's most certainly not because she's thinking about him when she should be concentrating on work. She tells herself she's bothered only because her partner wouldn't trust her to have his back in the midst of a firefight.

And then she realizes – it truly is a matter of trust…just not in the way she tries so desperately to convince herself.

She trusts him, alright. She might've been wary of him at first, but as her partner, she trusts his judgment. She trusts him.

She wants more than anything for him to trust her too.

But as her imagination once more accosts her with visions that he can never know she harbors, she can't help but acknowledge that for all the trust she might have in him, Kensi suddenly can't trust herself. Her own imagination, her own heart, her own desires, her utter attraction to him…she's more likely to betray her own common sense and the rules that would keep them apart than she is to ever betray him.

It may be dangerous for him not to trust her, but the moment that he opens that door to her, the moment he finally places that trust in her is the moment that their relationship – partnership, she corrects herself again – becomes dangerous to her, because that gives her just one more reason to want him even more.

Then again, she thinks as her imagination begins to wander again down that same path, a path she knows she shouldn't let it take but can't find it in her to stop it, Kensi's always found danger more than just a bit enticing.