Thanks for the lovely reviews and alerts! Special thanks to my beta extrordinaire, imahistorian, who always manages to say exactly the right thing, and whose pointing-out skills are nothing short of spectacular.


The late afternoon sun shone through the stained glass windows left intact from another era in the upper reaches of the old mission's walls, but not even that could alleviate the chill Kensi felt seeping into her bones. Being with her team helped, certainly. While she was with them she could pretend, usually. She could act like nothing was wrong, and she could convince the others that she was still the same more-than-capable wunderkind that Sam and Callen had trained and worked with for so many years.

Sometimes she could almost convince herself.

But other times, times like today, she knew she was flawed. Corrupted. There was a weakness in the foundation now, a tiny fissure that threatened to give way and topple the entire structure into dust. She knew she was making a mistake just by being here. In a job where your life often depended on the strength and skill of the one who had your back, she was more a liability than a team member. They deserved better. Deeks deserved better. But she knew there was no place else for her to go. Without this place, without these people, she really would stumble off the edge of the world and into the blackness she knew awaited her there.

So she clung on, well past the point she should have called it quits. She arrived every morning, late more often than not due to restless hours and relentless nightmares and a lack of sleep that threatened to derail her efforts to appear normal. She worked cases and crimes, pursued leads and questioned suspects, arrested criminals and solved mysteries, and yet a part of her recognized, knew, that she was wandering farther and farther past the point of no return. That at some point it would all come crashing down, and there would be no way to put Humpty Dumpty together again.

And it had all started with a simple theft case. Well, as simple as any case assigned to OSP.

The Navy had developed a new, less reactive nuclear missile and sent it out for testing on a purportedly dry-docked nuclear sub that was actually performing covert missions in the Adriatic. There were small signs at first that someone was after the intelligence. A door left open, a padlocked armory cage found mysteriously unlocked, other things that were explainable but still puzzling. But the signs became more ominous. A radio that should have been disabled sending signals out that couldn't be traced. A key-strike tracking device recording someone opening computer files without proper authorization. The captain had become alarmed and had made a few phone calls, and within days Kensi and Sam had been undercover as military personnel and Deeks and Callen had become "agents afloat", although Deeks' designation as such had been questionable at best given his status as a liaison.

They'd fingered the would-be thief fairly quickly. He was surprisingly inept for a spy, although "spy" was pretty broad for what he actually was, which was a very smart man with a weakness for the craps table who was looking to score some big bucks. He had already made contact with a few interested parties, none of whom were considered friends of the US government. Kensi had sniffed him out, and she and Deeks had herded him into Callen and Sam's custody without the man even putting up much of a fight. They'd all been feeling pretty good about the collar while they waited on the Navy cruiser to come and pick them up.

Too bad none of them had realized he had a partner.

"Hey, Kens." Deeks' voice startled her, and she realized she'd been sitting there staring off into space while she relived the more pleasant memories of that case. She was glad he'd spoken when he had. If her mind had had a chance to go a few hours further into the events that had occurred on the Navy sub, she might have unknowingly revealed far too much of what was going on inside her. Her reactions these days dismayed her, her mind and body taking over and pushing her into displaying the darkness that lived behind her eyes. Her hands shook sometimes no matter how hard she worked to steady them, and her heartbeat would pick up until she was sure she'd pass out. She'd found herself unable to breathe, once to the point that dark spots danced in front of her eyes as her knees slowly buckled. Each time she felt it coming on, felt the tingling in her hands or the difficulty inhaling, she found a space to be alone, a hole to crawl into to shield her weakness much like a small animal hides to keep the predators at bay. She'd discovered nooks and crannies around the old mission that she was sure were unknown; at the very least cobwebs and dust spoke to neglect and lack of care on the part of the custodial staff.

"Kensi?" His voice was questioning now, concerned, and she forced herself to meet his gaze.

"Yeah?"

"You okay?" At her partner's question, Sam and Callen looked over at her curiously, and she smiled at them all, hoping no one could see that it didn't quite reach her eyes.

"I'm fine, Deeks." She shrugged a little. "Just thinking deep thoughts."

It was an invitation, an offer extended for Deeks to pick it up and run with it. Any other time he'd have done just that, made a joke about her lack of thought or lack of depth or anything from the techno music she loved and he called brainless to her persistent love of all things reality tv. And perhaps it was a sign of just how aware he was that he didn't, that instead his eyes narrowed and lips opened to speak before he thought better of it and just gave his head a tiny shake.

"You looked like you were miles away." Deeks pushed his chair back and got to his feet. "You ready? I don't think our case is getting any younger, and McLeod ought to be arriving at the store right about now."

"Sure." Kensi hoped it was that easy, hoped that he'd let it go another day, or even another hour. But that hope was destined to be dashed as soon as they got into her car.

Maybe it was her own fault. Maybe her easy acquiescence to his request to drive did it, or maybe her inability to focus while sitting at her desk. Maybe it was the circles under her eyes or the looseness of her clothes or her old trick of pushing food around her plate which had evolved into her new tactic of avoiding sharing meals altogether. Maybe it was one of a thousand signs that something was wrong with her that pushed him into finally speaking.

Or maybe it was just her partner's innate sense of her, his way of knowing when to give and when to take, his uncanny ability to sense that something was seriously wrong the dozens of times she'd told him she was 'fine' when she was anything but.

"Kensi." His voice was warm as he turned sideways, his gaze concerned. "Kens, I can tell that something's not right. Please….please talk to me."

Her own voice was cold when she spoke. "There's nothing wrong, Deeks. Can we just go?" She couldn't go there, couldn't open up. Couldn't let him in to see exactly just how much wrong there was inside her now. Letting any of them know would force the situation, open the door to let everything finally out like the evils escaping from inside Pandora's box. She knew keeping it all festering inside wasn't healthy, part of her knew with surety that eventually it would all boil out of her control. But for now she was still able to keep a lid on it, to maintain a semblance of control that was as necessary to her as breathing.

She couldn't allow anything else. She would hold it together until she couldn't.

"Kensi, you're my partner." He sighed heavily, and she understood that this was difficult for him. "More than my partner. You mean…a lot to me, and I want to help you. I know something is bothering you, and has been bothering you for a long time." He reached out to touch her hand then and, flicked unbearably raw by his words and the gentle warmth in his touch and the agonizing weeks since she'd begun to break, she twisted her arm and grabbed his wrist, holding it so tightly that he winced.

"Hands off," she bit out, teeth all but grinding together. "Don't touch me." She let go of his hand, but to her horror she felt that burning in her nose that signaled the onset of tears. She kept her gaze steady and still, trying to stem the tide before it could begin. But Deeks read something in her eyes that caused him to pull away, both hands held aloft in the universal gesture of surrender.

"Can't you see it?" he asked softly. "This. What you're doing right now. Kens, this isn't you. This isn't your reaction. This is the something wrong, or part of it."

"What, because I don't want you touching me there's something wrong? Sounds like the biggest problem in this car may be your colossal ego." She found the strength to push it back a little, to pull the tattered cloak of her dignity around her once more. "Back off and we'll both be fine. Keep pushing and you may find yourself with more trouble than you can handle."

She watched closely as he reined it in, taking a deep breath before his shoulders loosened and his lips tightened. "Fine. We'll just….fine."

Defeated, he turned and started the car, then pulled out slowly into the afternoon traffic. She kept her gaze averted for the entire drive and turned the music up to avoid the possibility of any conversation between them.


He smiled at her, menace in the twisted gaze of his black eyes and gap-toothed grin.

"NCIS," she said, hoping he didn't hear the shaking in her voice. "Hands up!"

But he stepped forward, ignoring the .sig she had pointed directly at his face. "You can't shoot me. You don't have the balls." His gaze dropped downward, sexual intent clear. "You….really don't have the balls." Distracted by his leering eyes and wet, full lips, she was unable to stop him when he made a swift blow to her wrist. The ensuing numbness in her fingers made it easy for him to grab her, pulling the gun out of her grasp and tossing it aside. He drew her closer then, ignoring her furious struggles and attempts to squirm away from him. She forgot everything she knew, everything she'd been taught and trained to do to protect herself and dissolved into sheer feminine distress. The struggle seemed endless, unending, and she made no progress toward freeing herself from his mammoth hands.

"Let me go." Her voice was soft, breathy, strained. "Let me go, or I'll…"

"You'll what?" He caressed her face, wiping a tear away with a gentle thumb before his grip turned brutal, holding her immobile as she tried to look away. "What exactly will you do, Agent Blye?" His face moved closer, lips a breath away from hers, and she tried to struggle, tried to force herself to move, to fight, to do something. "I don't think you have much choice in what you're about to do."

"Hey, Kens."

But the fear was stronger than she was, and it held her in a frozen grip. She could do little more than absorb it, absorb the fact that he was going to do what he wanted to her—and what he wanted was more than clear as his free hand began to wander lower, pulling her shirt out of her pants and tugging it up.

"Kensi."

She couldn't stop him, couldn't do anything but exist in that moment. Her breath hitched, and one brutal hand let go of her face and moved lower, closing around her slender neck. "Fight me," he whispered against her mouth. "Fight me. Make this fun." His hand tightened until she began to fight, horrified that even her own resistance was under his control. "That's it. That's better," he crooned, and she wished quite desperately that she were dead.

"Kensi!" Deeks' voice was sharp, harsh, and it finally drew her attention. She looked down at Deeks as he knelt on their suspect, a large burly man who'd barreled out from behind the counter straight at Kensi after they'd identified themselves. She'd been hurled back to another time when a burly mountain of a man had materialized out of the darkness, her mind locked into the memory until Deeks had called her out of the fog.

Her gun was out and in her hand, pointed straight at McLeod. Or, more accurately, at Deeks, who was perched on McLeod's back, holding the other man's arms behind him as the suspect struggled to free himself. Deeks had done this, had taken the man down by himself, while she'd stood there frozen in a flashback with a gun pointed at his chest. Deeks stared at her, face white and vibrating slightly with the fervor of the other man's movements. "Kensi." His voice was softer now that he'd finally gotten her attention. "Handcuffs?"

She almost dropped where she stood. It had finally happened. Her mind and body had committed the ultimate betrayal, forcing her to put Deeks in danger. Only it was so much worse than anything she'd imagined, because the danger had come from her own hand. She managed to fumble her handcuffs out, then handed them to Deeks before turning and stumbling out of the tiny convenience store where their suspect worked.

Turning her face up to the softening sunshine of the early evening sky, she struggled to catch her breath, and struggled even more to accept the fact that her life as she knew it might be over.