Inspired by the scene in The Raven and the Swan where Deeks jokes about bucket list and twins.:)

The whole team was out at the bar, celebrating solving their latest case. It had been long, drawn out, and emotionally taxing and each and every member of the Office of Special Projects elite team was ready for a break.

Kensi had perched herself on the edge of the side of the booth that Sam and Nell were sitting in, across from Eric and Callen. Deeks, who was currently at the bar getting the next round of drinks, had pulled up a chair. If this was eight months ago, Kensi would have just stolen Deeks' chair, getting up only to perch on his lap when he returned with drinks. Eight months ago, she'd have been brave, because by the third beer, eight months ago, she would have laughed at the team's raised eyebrows. But, eight months ago, they hadn't crossed the last line; eight months ago, she hadn't been on a secret sniper mission to Afghanistan. And most importantly, eight months ago, she hadn't told him to stop waiting, that it was pointless, that they had to choose between partners and lovers and she chose the former. Three months since she'd been back, two since she'd told him that all the patience in the world wouldn't be enough, that their frozen lake was already too cracked for passage, one month and twenty-nine days since she regretted every word.

And there he was at the bar, with two perky, petite blondes, in what Nell referred to at the 'Barbie uniform' of low-cut halter, micro-mini that left nothing to the imagination and skyscraper heels. They could be twins.

"Deeks did say that twins were on his bucket list." Callen raised his glass in Deeks direction as he caught his eye.

"Did I say that out loud?" Kensi whispered to Nell.

"Yeah...I have to use the ladies room. Kensi, care to join me?" Nell, hearing the vitriol tone in her friends voice, plotted a quick exit plan.

"Didn't really picture you too as the go-to-the-bathroom-in-pairs type of women." Sam teased good naturedly as Nell half-stood, scooting down the booth until she had pushed the still distracted Kensi to the floor.

"First time for everything." The petite woman grabbed her friend by the arm, moving her towards the bathroom. But ultimately Kensi was stronger, and as they passed by the section of the bar where Deeks still stood, she pulled her arm from Nell's grip and made her way to the bar.

Draping herself over Deeks in a way that clearly said, 'He's mine, back off!" She weaves her fingers into his hair and turned to face the two blondes, "Hello ladies, I hope that my Marty has been behaving himself, he can be such a flirt. I hope he wasn't leading you on."

Deeks caught Callen's eye, motioning him over to take care of the drinks as he took Kensi's arm and led her to the back hallway of the bar. Releasing her arm in a less-than-gentle fashion, he spun her to face him.

"What the hell was that?" As she opened her mouth to answer, he cut her off, "Because you don't get to do that anymore." He hissed through his teeth. "You gave up that right the only other time you have ever called me Marty. I have every right to flirt with those women. Hell, I have every right to take one, or both, of them home. And that wasn't my choice, Princess." What once had secretly been her favorite nickname was laced with such anger, she almost thought he hated her. "You made that decision all on your own."

Before she could close her now-gaping mouth, he had turned his heel to make him way back to the bar. It took a few minutes for her to compose herself and make it back to the group, only to discover that he had quickly grabbed his things and left. Making her excuses and not caring how obvious she was, she left as fast as she could.

Now here she was, standing in front of his door, willing herself to knock. Five minutes, it took her five minutes to work up the courage; the thirty seconds it took for him to open the door felt like a lifetime.

She'd had a whole speech planned, apologize for her behavior, beg to still be friends, but as he stood there, still angry in a white T-shirt and jeans with hair so messed up, he'd clearly been running his hands through it. It's what he does when he's stressed, she thought, but it always made him look so damn hot.

"Kens, if you aren't going to say anything, I need you to go home. I can't do this, it's hard enough at work..." She didn't say anything. Instead, she launched herself at him, kissing him with complete desperation. Lacing her hands through his hair, much like earlier tonight, but this time pulling their faces as close together as possible. Muscle memory and suppressed desire brought his hands and arms around her waist. She pushed them back into the apartment and up against the nearest wall.

Her lips left his mouth, exploring the length of his neck, sucking lightly, tongue flicking out at the points she knew from experience were sensitive. His wandering hands had untucked her shirt from her jeans and were tracing shapes on the bare skin of her back while his lips mirrored his partners.

Her hands wandered down from his face to the buckle of his belt and it was the sound of his fly unzipping that broke the spell.

"Kens...Kens, as much as I'll regret this in the morning, we need to stop." She didn't reply verbally, but the contact her lips kept with his ear lobe, tugging slowly.

"Woman, you are trying to kill me. Stop. Now." His voice shifted, no longer angry, but very serious he gently pushed on her shoulders. She stepped back, looking him in the eye.

"I really screwed this up, didn't I?" Sounding more than a lost little girl then he ever thought possible.

"Yeah, you did. You really did. And I'm mad. I'm so damn mad at you, Kens. You said that we'd try, that we'd talk about our thing. But you gave up after we barely got started and I want to stay angry. It's easier to stay angry." She started to slowly back away from him, back pedaling towards the door, preparing to run one last time, but his hand gently caught her wrist just before she was out of reach, "I think we can still fix it, but that's going to have to be your choice too."

"What do you mean?"

"If we," Pausing to clear his throat before proceeding "if we continue what you started when you attacked me at the door, there will be consequences. If you want this, it can't just be you staking your claim on me. 'Cause I'm crazy about you Kens, but I'm not crazy. And I can't keep doing this. So if we do this" waving two fingers in the air between them "tonight and you run again, I'm gone. Gone from NCIS, probably gone from LA. Walk away right now, we go back to being partners and I'll try not to pick up twins in your presence again. There's no in between anymore, no halfway. It's too damn hard and I can't, I won't, do it anymore."

He sat down, defeated, on the couch, fighting the urge to put his head between his knees, forcing himself to look her in the eye.

"You think that issuing me an ultimatum is the way to communicate."

"Seemed to get you what you wanted two months ago."

"Touché."

The faintest of smiles crept into the corners of his mouth and that's when she knew. Stepping closer to him, stepping between his knees, pushing them apart, delaying having to figure out what she was going to say. Every time she opened her mouth to speak, she seemed to say something she regretted. She preferred his form of communication anyway. Standing above him, both hands on either side of his face, it was now or never, and she didn't think she'd survive never.

He stayed perfectly still, this had to be her decision. She slowly, hesitantly closed the distance, their lips meeting, the passion that had been paused temporarily coming back full force. She straddled his hips, never breaking the kiss. He knotted one hand in her hair, tilting her head to allow him better access, the other working the buttons of her shirt.

She only broke the contact of their lips to pull his shirt over his head, kisses trailing down his throat, fingers tracing his now-bare chest. She paid special attention to every scar, kissing each reminder of how it was easy it would be to lose him, confronting her fears, the ones that screamed at her to flee, head on. After her ministrations, she stood, shirt agape, exposing a black lace bra. He took her in, like it was the first time, like he was still afraid it would be the last. Pushing the last vestiges of illogical doubt down one last time, she smiled and grabbed his hand, leading him to the back bedroom. The smile that had been teasing at the corner of his lips since her touché finally breaking out into a full on grin.

Laying sweaty and naked on top of his sheets several hours later, she continued to lightly trace the scars that bullets left over three years ago. He played absent-mindedly with her hair as it tickled his nose. For the first time in two months they felt like 'them' again.

"You sad that you're never going to check twins off your bucket list."

"What's to say I haven't already?" She smacked him lightly on the chest. "Ow. Kidding. You're more than enough for me, Kensalina. I don't need anyone else."

And for the first time, she could honestly say that it didn't scare her.