Well, they're talking at last - and that's got to be good, right?
Kensi sighs deeply and I can hear all her pent-up anguish in that one sound. Believe me, I feel terrible about putting her through this, but I have to know how she feels. I've put all my cards down on the table and it's her turn now. For better or for worse, we're finally going to have this conversation.
"You're my partner, Deeks. And do you know what that means – in practical terms? It's like being married to you and the job, both at the same time. I know more about you than I've ever known about any man. I know how you like your coffee and what shop you like it from, I could pick out a shirt for you and know you'll like it and I even know what size of jeans you wear. I know exactly what you look like and act like at three am in the morning when we've been on an all-night stakeout. I even know where your dog likes to go for a walk and why it's not a good idea to feed him raw liver. I know about your comic book collection, the one you've got hidden at the back of your closet. I know about your fear of snakes and how you love children. I even know a bit about your childhood and your peculiar family."
I've still got hold of one of her hands but with the other Kensi is plucking fretfully at her jeans. "And now I even know what you look like when you think you're going to die." Her voice breaks slightly when she says that and her whole body shudders.
"Sorry about that." I try to make a joke, but it falls flat.
"I know how I feel when I think you're going to die too," Kensi adds. "That was pretty much the last straw. You see, now I know everything I need to know about you. And that's difficult for me. I look back and it seems like everyone in my life hid things from me and I've lived a life of half-truths. My mom lied about why she left my dad and he lied about what he was actually doing with his job. It took me nearly fifteen years to find out the truth. And then Jack: well, he never said he was going to leave. I had no idea I made life so awful for him that he felt he had no option but to simply get up one morning and go. He's probably still alive, he's probably out there somewhere and living his life and enjoying himself – but I don't know anything about that. Jack just walked out of my life and he took a whole chunk of my life away with him and I never heard anything from him, not ever again."
She doesn't have to tell me that she's scared of making a commitment, or giving away too much of her heart, because I always knew that. All I ever hoped was that in time I could get her to see that I was different and that she could trust me.
"Jack was an idiot and he didn't deserve you." I'm pretty sure that I don't deserve her either, but I want her so much that I don't care. I want her and I want to be with her and I want to make her happy more than anything. There is nobody like Kensi and I know that there can never be anyone else for me except Kensi: it's that simple.
I'm still lying on the couch, and Kensi is sitting bolt upright beside me. So I reach out and pull her down and she doesn't resist, but just stretches out beside me, cradling her head on her arm. We're lying together, almost like we're spooning and it feels so natural, so incredibly right. My arm is looped around her waist as she continues to talk. It's just easier this way, I think, so that Kensi doesn't have to look at me when she finally opens up her soul and reveals all the fears and anxieties, all the things that make her the complicated, frustrating and utterly incredible person that she is.
"You don't deserve me either, Deeks. You certainly didn't deserve this."
Well, I know what she's talking about, but actually, just lying here, with Kensi lying next to me feels so fucking great that I really don't care about anything else. I'm beginning to think we might just be able to work this out. And I know for certain that my sex drive has kicked back in with a vengeance. The scent of her shampoo is tickling my nostrils and I can feel the small bump of her belly-button ring underneath my fingers and the combination is starting to drive me wild. Down boy. This is really bad timing. I force my mind back onto the subject.
"We're partners, Kensi. I'd do anything for you. Anything. You don't even have to ask, because I'll just charge on in there, whether you want me to or not." I gently stroke her hair and that action exposes the nape of her neck, and I want to kiss her so badly. It takes all my will-power not to do anything, but I don't want to risk breaking this moment.
"My knight in shining armour." She adjusts her position slightly, easing her butt into my groin and it's like I've just been hit by lightning.
"That's me."
I'm joking, of course, but that sounds a whole lot better than The Shaggy DA, after all. Hey, you think I don't know what Sam and Callen don't call me behind my back? It's probably because they're just jealous, of course. I mean, I've got great hair – everybody says so – and they don't. In fact, Sam doesn't have any hair at all. It's a great image – the chivalrous knight and it does make me think though. Does Kensi really see me as her hero? Really? Me? That's kind of mind-blowing, but as long as it doesn't turn out that Kensi is my Belle Dame Sans Merci, then it's just fine with me. I'm beginning to think that things might just be looking up for us. And it's about time.
So I reach out and take my courage in both hands. "Why don't you tell me the rest? About what happened after I was shot?" I figure it might be easier when we're lying like this, when she feels safe and secure and neither of us have to look at the other person. Maybe like this we might finally start to tell the truth – the whole truth.
"Okay."
For a moment I can feel the tension creep back into her body. "Kensi – it really is okay. I'm here and I'm fine. We made it."
"Yes – but I didn't know that then." Her grip on my hand tightens. "I was so scared…"
"Tell me about it," I invite, and hug her a little closer.
Kensi ran along the hospital corridor, hearing the sound of her steps echo off the walls, as the blood thundered through her veins and a thousand thoughts scrambled around inside her brain.
This wasn't supposed to happen. It was never supposed to be like this. How many times was her partner going to be shot instead of her? Was she some kind of jinx? Which ever way she looked at it, she was downright hazardous to Deeks' health and sooner or later he was going to run out of luck.
"Hetty!" The small, self-contained woman was sitting staring into space, but at the sound of Kensi's urgent cry she was jerked out of her reverie and tried to compose her face into a suitable expression as Kensi sped towards her, looking as if all the hounds of hell were panting at her heels.
"Where is he? Why aren't you with him? Is he alright?" The words came tumbling out in a torrent, tumbling over one another. "Please tell me Marty's still alive? He can't be dead."
"Sit down and take a deep breath." Hetty gestured to the seat next to her own. "He's still alive. They're trying to stop the bleeding right now. And they're transfusing him, of course." She didn't deem it necessary to add that Deeks had nearly bled out, and that his blood volume was at such a critically low level that they were pushing blood through veins in both arms. Despite all her protests, Hetty had not been permitted to stay in the ER as the medical personnel battled to stablise him.
"He can't die," Kensi said fiercely. "I won't let him die." She looked down at her hands and then at her jeans, stained and stiff with blood. There was so much blood. There was far too much blood. How could somebody bleed so much and still be alive? "I feel like Lady Macbeth," she added. Would she ever be able to wash away all the blood, and the associated stains on her soul? The guilt was invading every cell of her being, along with the all-encompassing fear.
"Kensi – this wasn't your fault. You were both just unlucky."
"No, Deeks was unlucky. Because look at me – I'm here and I'm just fine." Her hands were shaking uncontrollably.
"I beg to disagree. You are not fine. Not by any stroke of the imagination." Not caring about the blood, Hetty took hold of her agent's hand. "Look at me, Kensi. You are distraught. I know what it is like to see your partner like that…"
"It's not because he's my partner. It's because he's Marty. I'm mean, he's Deeks."
Hetty smiled. "I know what you mean. It is rather easy to get very fond of Mr Deeks. Or even Marty."
"What will I do if he dies, Hetty?" she beseeched.
"I don't know, my dear." There was a finality about those words that broke through Kensi's confusion and terror. If Hetty didn't know – then the world was officially in chaos. Hetty always knew what to do. She was always composed and pragmatic, she never gave up. She always did something – she didn't just sit and wait. And now she was sitting helplessly outside the ER, unable to do anything, or say anything that might make this situation a little less hellish. All she could do was sit and wait. It was a shock to realise that Hetty was every bit as fallible and human and impotent as everyone else, and that only underlined the gravitas of the situation.
Not to put too fine a point on it, Hetty was not quite sure what any of them would do if Deeks died. She hoped they would find the strength to go on, but she had her doubts. Just as much as Kensi, Hetty was shouldering the blame. This was her team, running an operation she was in control of and the shooting had happened right outside the Mission. She had known how tired Deeks and Kensi both were after working non-stop for nearly twenty-four hours, and yet she had let them continue, deliberately exposing them to risk. It was all her fault. If only she had sent them home, or perhaps had ordered breakfast to be delivered and insisted they had taken a break, had a nap for an hour. If only, if only, if only… Hetty knew only too well where the buck stopped and she was willing to accept the responsibility. She sat with her head bowed and her hands clasped and begged for forgiveness. Mea culpa. Mea culpa. Mea maxima culpa.
The thing about life, she thought, was that it was always full of surprises. Some were pleasant, others less so. Life did not come with a manual that told you how to trouble-shoot problems, so most of the time you just had to make it up as you went along and hope to God you were doing the right thing. This time she'd made a huge error in judgement and now Marty Deeks was paying the price. The awful thing about life was that it didn't give you a chance to scrub things clean and start all over again. There was guarantee that when you got things wrong you would ever be given the opportunity to set the right again. That was just the way it was. That was the awful thing about life, the thing you never got used to – that sometimes it all went so hideously wrong in the blink of an eye and there wasn't a damn thing you could do about it. Life could be so short and so terribly painful, and yet paradoxically it could be so wonderful. Perhaps you could only experience the true beauty when you also knew you terrible that beauty could also be?
There was nothing they could do, except to wait. And waiting is always easier if you have a fellow companion to walk along the lonely road in fellowship at your side. So they sat together, side by side in silent communion, each woman cocooned in her own thoughts and prayers, while the doctors fought to save Deeks.
"It was… bad?" I ask, not quite able to find the words.
Kensi shivers. "Bad? It was… it was one of the worst experiences of my life. Just having to sit there, and wait and not be able to do anything. Not being able to be there for you."
"I don't remember anything. The last thing I remember is lying on the sidewalk and you leaning over me and…" And I don't want to tempt fate by reminding Kensi that she had said she loved me. Those were extreme circumstances and I can hardly hold her to something she said when she thought I was dying. Anyway, maybe she only said it because she thought it was what I wanted to hear? No, if Kensi is ever going to say that again, I want it to be when she's in my arms and looking straight at me.
"They clamped and repaired the artery in the OR, along with sticking as much blood into you as fast as possible. Then they rushed you off for an immediate CAT scan, on account of the fact you were unconscious. And then after that, it was off to the operating theatre, to repair your leg properly."
I try to take all this in. It sounds pretty horrific, if you want the truth. It's hard to think of all that happening to me, but at least I was unconscious and therefore clueless. Kensi, on the other hand, had to sit there and wait and worry.
"And you were there? The whole time?"
"I was there," she agrees and then twists her head around to look at me. "I was there the whole time. Where else would I be?" And the sincerity shines out of her face. What does it matter if she couldn't watch the stupid tape with me? Kensi was there when it mattered.
"Thank you." Call me stuck, smitten – whatever, but I've got this feeling that is what made all the difference. "Thank you for always being there for me."
3. Appreciate.
Say thank you - a lot. Don't take your partner - and all of the things he does for you - for granted. Try not to forget to let the other know how much you care. Love is a rare thing and always make sure your honey knows you are so happy to have them in your life.
Kensi moves so that we are now lying facing each other. "It was the least I could do. I've never thanked you for saving my life, have I?"
"You don't need to."
Our faces are only inches apart and I'm staring deep into her eyes, her dark, mysterious eyes that seem much softer than I can ever remember seeing them before.
"Thank you for saving my life, Marty. Both times. And thank you for always being there for me."
And we are both here, right now and I don't think I can manage to go another minute without kissing her.
"I'm not going anywhere, Kensi. I'm right here and I'm not going anywhere without you."
"I wouldn't let you. I'm not letting you out of my sight." Kensi reaches up and pushes back my hair. "Why do you think I've been staying here and keeping you under 24 hour a day watch?"
I shrug. Well, I can't exactly say it was because I thought Hetty had told her too. Kensi probably isn't as intimidated by Hetty as I am.
"You drive me crazy," she says. "You drive me up the wall and round the bend. You make me so mad and you make me so happy and you have me so I don't know if I'm coming or going or even meeting myself on the way back. You came into my life and turned it upside down and inside out and just left me reeling."
"Sorry."
"Would you stop apologising?" Kensi grabs hold of a chunk of my hair and tugs, but she does it gently and she's laughing. "I'm trying to be serious and tell you something here. Something important."
"Go on then – tell me." I don't quite dare to hope, but I can't help myself.
Kensi doesn't say anything. Not one single word. Instead, she keeps a firm grip of my hair and pulls my head towards hers and she kisses me. And I kiss her back. Well, they say that actions speak louder than words, don't they?
4. Share.
We learned in kindergarten that friends share, so why not share with your significant other - in every sense of the word! Share your lunch, your feelings, your theories. It's a fact that sharing brings people closer.
Slushy plot bunny makes a welcome return. At least I hope he's welcome? You never know, randy might just hop along in his wake at some point.