Deeks slides the box across the dusty cement floor the few feet between them to Kensi with an unfiltered desperation overtaking his whole demeanor. He waits a split second for the recognition to reach her eyes, and his whine of choked, hysterical laughter threatens to spill out when they go as wide as dinner plates on her face.

"Hey, Kens. Marry me?"

If he doesn't ask now, he may never get the chance. It isn't so much a question as it is a demand, a frantic and breathless plea in the midst of a shitty situation. It definitely isn't how he wanted his proposal to her to go either, but life never really goes the way you plan it, now does it?

Kensi had her own little fairytale ideas of this moment. Maybe something with the Eiffel Tower as the backdrop, a little wine in both of them, just enough to make the moment so carefree that she wouldn't hold back her little squeal of joy when he got on one knee and flipped open the small velvet box. Now that she really thinks about it, she should have realized how unrealistic that little fantasy was. That just wasn't them.

This, though, this exact moment is so them, the perfect essence of Kensi and Deeks, Deeks and Kensi. A firefight, a life-and-death scenario, trapped with little-to-no likelihood of escaping, stubbornly refusing to back down without full assurance that the other will survive. They might not get to experience perfection in their lives, but they get real. That had to be enough.

Kensi blinks back her shimmery tears and sets her gun down next to her. She has three bullets in the clip, one in the chamber. Even if she shot every living and quickly moving human target dead, there are far more than four assailants trying to gun down her and her partner in the dingy abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of Los Angeles. Deeks is down to his last bullet, the knife strapped to his belt, and the best improvised crowbar weapon of their time.

The plain black box at Kensi's knee reveals a simple solitaire diamond set in gold engraved with vines and tiny diamonds along the edge of the ring. It's obvious that the engagement ring cost him a fortune.

"Had this baby since the day after you left for Afghanistan, believe it or not. I swore when I got you back, when, not if, that I would man up and make you mine. Hell, you have never not been mine, whether or not you want to admit it. And I'm yours, Kens, always have been. Always will be," Deeks pauses to gauge Kensi's reaction and is met with a hurried nod to continue. Kensi couldn't force words out of her mouth even if she could think of any.

"Almost asked at the ice skating rink, I had the ring in my pocket even then. You're it for me, Kensi. I know you said didn't want much fanfare with all of this, so," Deeks finishes in a whisper, but his voices catches at the end and he doesn't bother trying to say anything else.

They both know it's best to try to keep quiet anyway. Their hiding place behind two crates is far from ideal, and after only narrowly escaping their last shootout in the parking lot, they know it'll only be minutes before the bad guys discover their little corner of hell.

Kensi is still speechless, staring helplessly between Deeks and the diamond catching the slim ray of sunlight through a broken window. He cocks his lips into a smirk that appears more at ease than it could naturally have been in that moment and she returns it with her own gentle smile.

Enemy gunfire breaks the serenity of the moment, but not before Kensi slides the ring on her left ring finger. The bullet holes from the terrorists' automatic rifle carve a straight line into the cement wall above their heads and they know that their time is out. Deeks shuffles his sore and bleeding body to press against Kensi for the last time. She flicks the safety off her gun.

"All in?" His voice isn't above a breath this time and Kensi meets his eyes with her signature fire and certainty. Deeks flashes a radiant smile that clashes with the tears streaming down his face before she says a word. He already knows her answer, but she says it anyway, her lips tenderly skimming against his.

"No matter our odds, I've always been all in."

Author's Note: Thank you for your thoughts. Title from We'll Be Coming Back by Calvin Harris.