Tell Me That You Love Me
Chapter Three
Words: 1747
Couple: Special Agent Kensi Blye and Detective Marty Deeks
TV Show: NCIS: Los Angeles
Disclaimer: Shane Brennan owns all names/characters ect. that you recognise.
Slightly AU.
Slightly drabble.
Established Kensi/Deeks.
Hints to an established Nell/Callen relationship.

…

Tuesday 14th of February 2012.

She sighed, slowly lifting her head from the pillow and looking at the time on her alarm clock. 1030. She didn't care that she was one and a half hours late for work, as she grabbed at her phone on her bedside table, when she had gotten home the day before, she had found herself very un-Kensi like and just collapsing into the bed.

She did not cry, she had done that too much, sitting on the floor of the ladies bathroom in the OSP centre with Nell Jones, showing every single sign of weakness to her friend. She had felt nothing but weak, she had felt hopeless. She didn't know why, she knew that she shouldn't feel like that over a guy, but then would remind herself that this was the over the same guy that she had been partners with for nearly six years, that she had been dating for two years, and that only a few days before, had been questioning why he never said that he loved her, while implying that she did also.

Kensi Blye felt like a mess, holding the phone to her ear, and letting the robotic female voice tell her that she had four messages to listen to.

"Hey Kensi, it's Nell. Hetty has given everyone tomorrow off, so don't worry about sleeping in. Just don't do something stupid, please? We're all worried about you."

"Miss Blye. I'm sure Miss Jones has already called you, but feel free not to come in tomorrow. Please rest, I do not need an agent out on the field from your team tomorrow, do not come in."

"Kensi it's Marty. I really need to talk to you. I understand that you're upset, please just call me?"

"I don't even know why I bothered," his voice was slurred, causing Kensi Blye to sigh slightly, "it's a very happy Valentine's Day, isn't it?"

He had gotten drunk, and she knew that if she had been capable of doing anything other than sleeping, she would have done the same thing. She would have thrown her emotional state out the window, and nestled down on her couch with a very large, unopened, bottle of bourbon.

She knew that he didn't drink often, and when he did get drunk, it was normally hilarious to watch, but she knew that he was hurting. She didn't care, she thought he deserved it. Actually, every fibre in her body was telling her that he deserved more than just 'hurting', but she would not let herself fall that deeply into an emotional distress.

Taking one last look at the alarm clock on her bedside table, she put the phone back down and rolled over to face the other way, closing her eyes and falling back to sleep.

…

The previous night, Marty Deeks couldn't remember anything from sometime after eleven pm, where he knew that was when he found himself on his third, maybe even his fourth, beer. The LAPD detective hadn't meant to get drunk, he had only planned on having one, but by the time he had opened his second beer, he forgot how to fight the urge for another

He knew it sounded stupid, drinking away his sorrows, in the past six years he had never had to do such a thing, and he had never made an effort to do so any time before that; but somehow, he found himself doing exactly that.

As someone pushed the blinds in his lounge room open, he blinked, waking up slightly when he heard one of his co-workers complain about the mess.

"Really Deeks, is this what you spent your night doing?" the distinctive sound of Sam Hanna's voice sighed, "and I though you would have been the more responsible out of the two of you."
"What do you want?" he groaned, sitting up and ignoring the throbbing pain in his head.
"Waking you up."
"Why? Hetty hasn't called us in, she gave us the day off for crying out loud," the LAPD detective chuckled, "she's probably sitting in her jaguar, drinking tea, and apologising to it for letting some Romanian guy put eight bullets in it's hood."
"You seem to have it figured out," the ex-Navy SEAL noted, "so tell me Deeks, what are you supposed to be doing today? If you weren't drowning your sorrows in alcohol?"
"Don't go there Sam."
"It's just a simple question," he answered with a shrug.

Marty Deeks narrowed his eyes at the agent, wincing slightly as his head throbbed a bit more. Slowly standing up, and making his way towards the kitchen, he knew that Sam Hanna was following, probably thinking of yet another lecture to give the LAPD detective; something that Marty had become used to since joining the OSP team.

"Don't you have plans?" Marty Deeks asked, pulling the aspirin out of the draw, "a hot date or something?"
"No plans."
"Now that I find strange," he chuckled, swallowing the two tablets and taking a cup of water from the glass that Sam handed to him.
"Why aren't you on a hot date, you'd think that you'd have something planned for today?" Sam replied, testing the waters.
"You're here about Kensi, so let's just avoid that topic at all costs?"
The NCIS agent rose an eyebrow, "you did have something planned today, didn't you?"
"Yes Sam, yes I did," the LAPD detective finally snapped, "five days ago I had no idea that Valentine's day was coming, because I had spent most part of the last few weeks scared for her life, while trying to make the arguments any worse. What else did you think I was doing this week?"
"Kensi made it sound like-"
"I'm not my father," Marty said simply, "I don't, and I would never, treat a woman like that."
"I didn't say you were cheating on her, just that Kensi has that all pushed up to the front of her mind," Sam shrugged, "and we all know how hard it is to disprove it when it gets there."
"Sam, we all know that she's stubborn, do you have a point in this sugar-coating you're trying to do?"

The LAPD detective frowned slightly, trying to decipher the man who stood across from him. He seemed so sure of whatever plan he had going, Marty could tell. But he didn't know whether or not he himself could be sure that it would work. What ever it was.

…

11:37 pm. Tuesday the 14th of February 2012.

"Yes G, I'm dress appropriately? Since when did jeans and a t-shirt not become appropriate for anything?"
"Just checking, because if I come up to that door, and you're still in your pyjamas, Kens."
"Wow, that's a lot of faith you have."
"I just know you Kensi. I'm at the door, hurry up."

She sighed, placing the phone in her back pocket and slipping the closest pair of shoes on. The NCIS agent had no idea what happened for nearly fifty-percent of her shoes to be heels, but finding the only pair of converse sneakers that she could, she started feeling like she needed something to keep her down.

As she opened the door, she found that her team leader wasn't there, but then she noticed that he waving at her with a small smile from his car, parked idle in front of her driveway. She laughed slightly, seeing Nell Jones in the passenger's seat, before walking down to meet them.

"Alright, it's nearly midnight on a Tuesday, don't you two have some sort of plans? Besides trying to get me out of the house?" she asked, pulling the door open and getting in.
"We had plans, but this is much more important," Nell answered, "and besides, we all know you haven't left the house."
"I did. I went shopping, I went for a run, and I put the trash out."
Callen laughed, slowly pulling the car off onto the road, "you went shopping? And put the trash out? You know that they both include some form of cleaning, right?"
"Yes Callen, you can see the floor of my apartment, if that's what you're saying," she rolled her eyes, leaning back into the chair.

She saw the two lovers in the front sleep share a small smile, smiling herself when she saw their hands meet in the middle dashboard. Kensi had never actually seen the couple be be like this during work, this was actually reassuring to her. That, and she knew how hard it had been for the male NCIS agent to actually let Nell into his life like that, when he didn't even know anything about himself.

The NCIS agent was snapped from her thoughts as they pulled into the OSP compound, and the car was stopped.

"Uh, Callen, what's going on?"
"Go to the bullpen, there's something waiting for you," G Callen answered, looking at her through the rear-view mirror.

Her eyes widened, but she got out of the car anyway, shutting the door before going to push the large doors open. She walked slowly, as if waiting for someone to jump out at her on the way. As she walked into the bullpen, she found Hetty, Eric and Sam sitting respectively around it, all talking about one thing or another.

"Miss Blye," Hetty smiled at her.
"Finally," Sam chuckled, "this is for you," he handed her the small rectangle box and card.
"And now you need to go the gym," Eric told her.
"What's going on here?" she asked, narrowing her eyes at each of her friends.
"Just go Kens, no one is going to bite your head off," the ex-SEAL smiled.

She looked at them all sceptically, but turned on her heal and slowly made her way towards the gym. She fiddled with the box and card on the way, but she didn't open it; seeing as she didn't understand what was going on. Here everyone was, taking time out of their day off, just to send her to the gym. For a moment she thought jokingly that they were trying to tell her she was fat, but then she stopped at the gym entrance, her eyes widening at the sight.

…

So. We've got Kensi being an emotional wreck, and not getting out of bed. We've got a whole Sam/Deeks brotherly like friendship going on here. Then we've got the slight Nell/Callen fuzzies, and then we've got the so-pretictable-that-I-almost-continued-writing end.

This was supposed to be posted yesterday afternoon, so I guess happy Valentine's day?

I'm gonna start writing the next one now, and hope to God that it doesn't make me late for school!

Review?