Author's Note: This was a fun write, believe it or not. While I still don't own anything (obviously) I am having fun taking the kids out into my own sandbox. Let's see how long I last :)
Thanks, as always to Jen for her awesome friendship and support and beta skills.

Reviews are appreciated more than I can convey.

It had been a lovely weekend.

They had enjoyed each other's company on the drive up the coast. The windows had been down, the sunroof open, and more often than not their hands had been intertwined on the center console.

She had her phone streaming a Pandora station through to the SUV's speakers and neither made comment about how the song selection was a unique blend of his classic rock and her techno. They alternated between acting like teens and singing along, heads bopping, and silently enjoying the moment, the weather, and the more mellow tunes.

They had stopped in a small town off the main highway and found a local restaurant. He had convinced her that baked brie and jam on crustini was not, in fact, poisonous. He instantly regretted cajoling her to take a bite when she closed her eyes and moaned in a very not PG-13 way that sent his blood racing south.

She had the good grace to let her cheeks tinge the faintest shade of pink when she caught his gobsmacked expression.

"Sorry. It was good!"

He shook his head, composed himself and, after taking his own bite of the appetizer, merely said: "Don't apologize. Now I know what to make at home!"

"I'll have to run four extra miles in the morning to burn this off," she said, liberally scooping another serving onto her crustini. She flicked a wicked glance his way and spoke before crunching into the bread. "Or... I'm sure we could find other activities to burn calories."

He met her glance and just grinned at her. Deeks lifted his hand and wiped a few crumbs from the corner of her mouth with his thumb, the thumb going to his own mouth immediately.

Their physicality had never been that of 'just partners.' That certainly hadn't changed since her return. What had changed, however, was that now they didn't even try to find excuses for it. Foot rubs weren't a disguise for needing physical contact. Gorey movies were no longer a necessity for snuggling on the couch. She didn't need to have a rough day to need a hug or find a reason to punch him just to make contact and be reminded of his solid presence.

She had spent the night before with his head pillowed on her thigh as he re-read one of his favorite books and she shot automatic weapons at some terrorist cell on the XBox. When she had grown tired of the game for the evening, she had begun to merely thread her fingers through his hair and he read aloud to her for a while before his voice became thick from fatigue. She had reached across, plucked the book from his hand and they stood and shuffled to his bed, nary a word or an awkward moment passed between them.

She had fallen asleep with her head pillowed on his shoulder, his arms holding her securely to his chest. And when she had startled awake from a nightmare, he had kissed her crown, whispered words of comfort, and kept a soothing stroking pattern on her back until she relaxed, uttered a 'thank you' towards him and drifted back to sleep.

Despite their physicality, they hadn't gone there, again.

They were both terrified and they both knew it.

They both were worried about being plucked from each other again on someone's whim. They were both worried about loss, about being alone, about uncertainty.

And they both knew their own fears were mirrored in the other.

When lunch was finished and they stood from the small outdoor cafe table, his fingers had found hers and they had walked hand-in-hand down the small town's sidewalk, shoulder to shoulder.

She steered them towards an antique store and he held the door open as she walked through, the brass bell jingling above.

He immediately headed to the antique books and she wandered throughout, taking in all of the kitsch and clutter.

There was a small Derringer pistol in a gun case. The firing pin had obviously been removed, but the mother of pearl cloisonne and filigreed metal caught her eye. For fire-power, it certainly was not a 'go-to' weapon. But for elegance and class? It had that in spades.

There were quilts on racks and stacked in a basket and after a little rummaging, she selected a star-patterned quilt that she knew would make a great Mother's Day present.

Hanging on the edge of a dressing screen was an antique marionette. With faded greens and yellows and blue paint, and worn strings, the toy had certainly seen better days but had far more character than most of its modern counterparts.

She lifted it from the dressing screen and headed towards the book section, finding Deeks flipping through a vintage surf magazine. She plucked the magazine out of hand, adding it to her pile without a word and headed towards the counter, her partner following along contentedly.

Kensi peered into the antique jewelry cabinet as the elderly man rung up her purchase.

The baubles and bits glinted, some needing a minor polish but all having stories to tell.

"Kinda sad," he said, leaning over her shoulder and looking at the cluster of engagement rings in velveteen boxes. "I'd bet those guys never would have guessed that their hopes and dreams and love, not to mention months of savings, would end up in an antique store all these years later."

"You're stupidly romantic sometimes, you know that?" She collected her purchases from the clerk with a smile.

"I know," Deeks offered a small shrug in reply, holding the door for her again.

His hip bumped hers on the way back towards the car and she turned towards him with a mock-glare.

Deeks slid his arm across her back and tugged her closer. Kensi stopped, causing him to turn mid-step. She fitted her free hand against his hip, tugging the denim belt loops towards her. She leaned up and gently brushed her lips against his.

She felt his surprise in the split second it took before he returned the kiss. His hand tenderly cradled her face and he returned the attention with his own emotion laden care.

Kensi didn't try to hide the smile when they parted and, on a whim, leaned up and quickly pecked his cheek. "Let's go home, Shaggy," she said.

When his fingers laced with hers again and they headed towards the car, she couldn't help but acknowledge the slight flutter in her chest.