I think it is worthwhile noting that I do not make evil things happen. I am a lovely person, full of sweetness and lightly and radiating a wholesome goodness. Unfortunately, I have an evil plot bunny who nibbles my toes unmercifully and makes the most awful things happen. But none of them are my fault.

that's my story and I'm sticking to it.

And here's another of my stories... and before you say anything - just bear in mind the above disclaimer. I am not responsible for anything. So proceed at your own risk

Now all they could do was to sit and wait, and try to let Deeks know they were here for him – and that they would be here for him, whatever the outcome was. Hetty came in silently and looked first at Nell and Deeks, and then at Sam, who shook his head with ineffable sadness.

"She's in theatre. We're just waiting."

"I hate waiting. I've never been a patient person. It's much easier to be actually doing something, don't you find?"

This was a revelation to Sam. "You never look impatient."

"I've schooled my face to impassivity over the years. That doesn't mean that inside my stomach isn't churning. And right at the moment it's in a double granny-knot." That was the peril of allowing yourself to get too close, to start thinking of your agents as people, rather than as pawns in a game. Hetty had never been able to forget the human element in any operation, in fact it was her highest priority. "I hate waiting," she repeated. This was as bad as any high-risk operation.

"Yeah. Me too."

They sat, side by side, and they waited.

By the time Callen came back, Deeks was standing staring sightlessly out of the window, shoulders slumped and with his hands jammed in the pockets of his jeans while the others sat in a row, their heads turning in unison at his entrance. "Deeks?"

He turned around instantly, his face strained and white, tension evident in every inch of his body.

"I think they're finishing up. You might want to… " Callen never got to finish the sentence as Deeks rushed past him, moving faster than he'd ever moved in his entire life.

"Did they say anything?" Nell was at Callen's side, standing close and looking up at him beseechingly.

"Nothing. Not a single word." The waiting was the worst part. The sheer frustration of not knowing and not being able to do anything. Callen hated the waiting more than anything else.

Kensi struggled up through a mass of thick, white clouds; their softness impeding her progress. Her mind seemed to be filled with things too, and her throat felt dry and sore.

"Hey, sweetheart."

His voice seemed to guide her home, making it easy to push away the last remaining barrier that stood in the way and she was finally able to open her eyes.

"Welcome back." She could feel the mattress dip and then Marty's face swam into view. It was funny, but he looked terrible, like he'd been crying or something. No, scrub that, he looked as if he'd been to hell and was still trying to run back to safety. "You look awful," she said groggily, trying to work out what was going on.

"You look absolutely beautiful. You gave me such a fright," Marty, all the time stroking her hand gently, holding on to it like it was a crucifix. "But everything's alright. You're going to be just fine." The was a sense of both wonder and disbelief in his voice.

Kensi shook her head feebly, trying to clear it, trying to think straight. She appeared to be lying in a hospital bed, which was strange. And there was a line in her arm and… and there was no huge belly anymore. The familiar presence of the baby was gone. It all came flooding back. "My baby?" she cried as her memory kicked into over drive, and tried to sit up, only a searing pain stopped her and she fell back helplessly against the pillows. "Marty – the baby?"

"Careful – you've just had an operation and you're going to be sore for a while. Don't worry - the baby's fine. Just fine. You want to see?" He pressed a button and the head of the bed started to rise. "How about you hold onto that and I'll go get the baby?"

Kensi pressed the button again, craning her neck desperately to watch as Marty went over to a bassinet in the corner of the room. "Really? The baby's alright?" That was all that mattered. It didn't even cross her mind to ask the sex of the child, because all that mattered was that the baby was alright.

"How about you come to meet your Mama?" There was an unfamiliar tone to Marty's voice, and although Kensi thought she knew every nuance and every single one of his expressions, she had never seen him as a father and the transformation nearly took her breath away. The bundle he lifted out of the crib seemed impossibly small, and the blanket made it difficult to see anything more that the curve of a rounded cheek. She held out her arms yearningly as Marty walked carefully across the room.

"Kensi – meet our son."

"A boy?" Kensi looked down at the tiny face, and realised the features were already familiar, that she'd seen them a hundred times in her dreams. She already knew him, but then she'd known him for nine months. She rejoiced in the feeling of holding him at last in her arms, of feeling the roundness of the small rump in the palm of her hand while his little body rested against her arm, his head turned slightly towards her. Nothing had ever felt quite so natural or quite so wonderful.

"A boy." There was no disguising the pride in Marty's voice. "Isn't he great?" He reached out a finger and stroked the wispy fair hair with infinite tenderness.

"He's perfect." Kensi had already unwrapped the blanket and was studying her son in minute detail, imprinting every perfect inch in her mind. She would have known him anywhere. Even the baby-scent was already familiar. "Hey there, Densi – I'm so glad to meet you."

"I thought you hated that name?" Marty couldn't stop looking at the way she was holding their son, the way her face had transformed into a radiant tenderness, even as a fierce love burned forth. Nothing was ever going to be the same again. Everything was going to be even better, he was quite certain. Everything was golden. But nothing, absolutely nothing would ever top this moment, these first few moments of being together as a family.

"It suits him." Kensi looked up and smiled. "You were right, okay? He'll be David Martin Deeks officially, just like we agreed - but he couldn't be anything other than Densi to us, could he?" She moved over and patted the bed invitingly.

"You could call him Pluto or Kal-El or even G Callen and I wouldn't argue." Marty stretched out his legs on the bed, put his arm around her and sighed with a mixture of contentment, exhilaration and exhaustion. "But he's definitely Densi, isn't he?"

"He always was." Kensi leant into him. "So, we're a family, aren't we?"

"Definitely." He kissed her and let his lips linger on her skin. "I thought I was going to lose you, Kensi. I thought I was going to lose both of you." There was a slight tremor in his voice and Kensi returned the kiss.

"I'll never leave you. I promise." She looked down at her son and made the same vow.

"I didn't think it was possible to be this happy." All the terrors of the past few hours seemed like nothing when Marty's entire being was suffused with this incredible joy. "Thank you so much. For everything."

Callen's head poked cautiously around the door. "We heard voices. Can we come in?" They'd sat outside for what seemed like an eternity, waiting and wondering. Deeks had stalked behind the gurney with an unreadable expression on his face when they brought Kensi and the baby back from theatre and it had seemed best not to interfere. But the waiting had gone on for too long.

"Sure. Come on in and meet the newest member of the team." Deeks looked completely different now, Callen realised – they both did. The change was subtle, but it was definitely there. Protectiveness, that was possibly the best word he could find to describe it. A fierce, proud protectiveness. In some starnge way, the baby seemed to have completed them.

Callen edged forward, followed by Sam, Nell and finally Hetty.

"I'd like you all to meet Densi Deeks – our son." The baby opened his eyes on cue and blinked curiously.

Nell let forth a little squeal of delight. "Oh isn't he just the cutest thing you ever saw in your life? Callen, how about we make one just as cute?" She gave him an imploring look and squeezed his hand.

"Maybe not quite right now? And I'd rather my baby didn't look like a miniature Deeks, thank you very much. But apart from that – why not?" throwing caution to the winds, Callen pulled Nell into an embrace as Sam tried very hard to cope with the triple of shock of the baby's name, his remarkable resemblance to his father and the fact that Callen and Nell had managed to have a relationship without anyone being any the wiser.

Slushy plot bunny is so happy he's gone off to have a bubble bath.

Everybody happy now? I told you I was a lovely person, didn't I?