And actually, it's only the beginning of a downright amazing night. Have you ever sat beneath the stars with the woman you're crazy about, both of you cradled by the warm, bubbling waters of a hot tub? No? Then go right out and remedy the situation. Immediately. You will thank me, I can promise you that. Everyone should make love in a hot tub at least once in their lives. Believe me, it's worth while. In fact, I am seriously considering looking for a ground floor apartment when we get back to LA, just so I can invest in a hot tub. Maybe I could get it tax deductible, on account of my leg injury? It has to be worth a shot (pun intended).
The garden is well-screened from the neighbouring properties, and it feels incredibly private, but there's still that slight frisson of danger that someone might hear us and then be tempted to check and see what's going on. However, knowing that just works to heighten the excitement. I know Kensi so intimately now that I can tell exactly when she's about to hit her orgasm, and I also know just how very vocal she can be, so I make sure to be kissing her so that I can take her screams into my mouth - and the sensation of that just about blows me away. And afterwards, we just lie back and stare up at the sky as the steam gently rises up into the cool night air. The stars seem a lot brighter here in Carmel, far away from the city lights of LA.
"I think I could be happy here," Kensi says dreamily.
"I already am happy."
"You know what I mean. When I was growing up, moving around all the military bases, I always dreamt of living in LA – the big city, you know?"
"Kind of." I've never actually lived that far from LA in my whole life, so it didn't have that whole allure of forbidden fruit for me. What LA represented was a chance to get away, to start afresh and get lost amidst the crowds in a place where nobody had ever heard of Gordon John Brandel or his unfortunate little accident that landed him in jail.
"But now LA's kind of losing its attraction for me. It's so big and impersonal. I could see us living somewhere like this."
"After we win the lottery, you mean?" Has she any idea how much these houses sell for? More than both of us will ever earn in our lifetimes, that's for sure. And then it hits me: the import of what Kensi has just said. She said she could see us living somewhere like this. As in the two of us. Like we're actually a couple, making plans for the future – together.
"LA's got some quieter neighbourhoods we could look at," I say casually, trying not to make too big a deal out of this. "Places where there's more of a community feeling."
"Which just happen to be beside the ocean, I bet." Kensi gives a deep, rumbling chuckle. "I know you so well, Marty Deeks."
"And yet you still love me." She hasn't told me that for at least half an hour, you see.
"I still love you," she confirms. "And it wouldn't be too much of a hardship to live by the ocean. I guess I could cope with that."
"Just wait till we go surfing at sun up."
"Can I take a rain check on that?"
She can have anything she wants. Absolutely anything at all. "We are serious about this, aren't we? Moving in together, I mean?" I'm asking because I have to be sure, mainly because I still can't believe that everything is going so well.
"I've never been more serious about anything in my life," Kensi says solemnly. "Well, with the possible exception of those days spent sitting beside you in the hospital and promising you just about anything if you woke up and came back to me."
One of these days I am going to find out exactly what she promised. With any luck, at least 10% will be triple X-rated and then I'm going to make sure Kensi keeps her word to me. So surfing at sun-up might just have to wait a while
"We could start looking next week, if you like?" I suggest. "Just to get some ideas. We'd want somewhere close to the ocean, easy travelling to the Mission, ground floor with a garden…" Already the list of 'must haves' is getting quite long.
"And somewhere that takes dogs," Kensi adds. "Because that's non-negotiable."
Do you know something? That actually makes me feel quite emotional. But then it's late and it's been a long day.
"How about we talk about this some more tomorrow?"
We've got tomorrow, and that day after that and a whole string of days, weeks, months and years stretching out in front of us. In fact, we've got the rest of our lives ahead of us and the future has ever looked quite so inviting. Almost as inviting as that bed upstairs, in fact… but not quite.
What with one thing and another (mostly the other) it's well past midnight before I go to sleep, and quite frankly, I'm exhausted. It's been a great day, but now I'm conscious that I'm nowhere near back up to anything like full fitness. Still, it's not like we've got to get up early tomorrow – we can spend most of the day right here in bed, if that's what we want to do, and then drive back to LA in the late afternoon. Actually, that sounds very tempting indeed. If I just look suitably pathetic in the morning, I'm sure I can persuade Kensi that bed is the best place for me. And her too, obviously.
But as it turns out, it's not me who is looking pathetic - it's Kensi. I know something is wrong before I even open my eyes, because when I reach out, she's not there. In fact, there is nothing but cold, empty bed.
"Kensi?" I sit up in a total panic, wondering if this has all been some fantastic dream, and my head gives a warning twinge.
"Over here." She's perched on the window seat, with her knees drawn up to her chest, a quilt draped around her shoulders and looking wan and peaky.
"Are you alright?" I'm scrambling out of bed and just about falling over my feet in my headlong rush to get over to her. I've never seen Kensi look quite so fragile, not even that time when she got whacked in the jaw and could barely talk, let alone eat.
"I'm fine. Really."
"You're not fine." Clearly, she is not fine. Now I'm sitting beside her, I can see the fine lines of pain on her forehead, and notice that her skin has a slightly green tinge to it.
"Don't fuss. I've taken some painkillers and I'm just waiting for them kick in."
"Painkillers?" All these visions start whirling around in my head and I can't help seeing how Kensi's got one hand pressed protectively against her stomach. "Is it appendicitis? We should get you to the hospital."
My blind panic seems to amuse her, because a smile creeps across her face. "It's not appendicitis. Honestly."
"How do you know?"
"Because it's period pains. No big deal. Just some cramps. It happens."
"Oh." It looks like a big deal to me. We've worked together for well over a year now, and there must have been other times when Kensi has felt equally ill, except either I never noticed or she was managing to hide it. I'm guessing the latter, because Kensi has this whole kind of Marine vibe about her a lot of the time. You know: 'never show any weakness'. Which is nonsense. I'm not happy shes in pain, but I am glad she doesn't feel like she's got to hide it any more.
"How about you get back into bed for a bit? I'll go and make you some tea." I sound like Hetty, don't I? But tea's supposed to be more palatable than coffee when you're ill, isn't it?
"Tea would be good." Kensi's not arguing with me, or even putting up a token protest, which just goes to show how rotten she must be feeling. "If I could just sleep for a couple of hours, I'll be fine. And then I'll have some tea. But then we'll need to go into town to buy some stuff. You know?" She falls into bed gratefully and pulls the covers up around her shoulders.
"Or you could tell me what kind you use and I could go get it?" I'm sitting on the side of the bed, petting her hair awkwardly, and feeling completely useless.
"That's sweet of you, but I'll be fine in a while. Honestly. It's just that sometimes, right at the start it's a bit rough, but then it settles down."
"You're sure? You're not just saying that? Because I can go buy that… stuff for you. If you give me the name." Tampons. The word is 'tampons'. It's a perfectly normal word and there's nothing to be afraid of, Deeks. So why can't you say it out loud? What a complete idiot I am. Here I am, trying to show how supportive and right-on I am and I can't even bring myself to say 'tampons'.
"You're not supposed to drive for a while, remember? Don't worry, Marty. I just need to sleep and let the pills start to work." Her eyes flutter shut, and I can't help noticing how dark her eyelashes look against her pale skin. I've never seen Kensi laid low like this and it is scaring me silly. I wait for a while, just until I'm certain she's asleep and then I tiptoe downstairs, grabbing my robe on the way.
I find myself standing at the kitchen sink, staring out of the window and not seeing a thing. The flagstone floor is freezing cold and my bare feet are numb, but all I can think about is Kensi. She's probably completely right – I mean, it is her body and all, but I can't help worrying. And then it strikes me like a hammer blow to the chest – this is nothing compared with the two days of hell she went through just a few weeks ago. If I think that I'm being driven demented right now, what on earth did Kensi feel like? There I was, sweating over saying 'tampons' and there she was, wondering if I was ever going to wake up. No wonder women are the stronger sex.
Eventually, I manage to pull myself together enough to make some coffee and go out onto the front porch to drink it in the sunshine. With any luck, the warmth will thaw out my feet too, because they have a slightly creepy blue tinge to them. It looks like I'm going to have to get myself some slippers to go with the robe. Little by little, I'm gradually getting domesticated. It's either Kensi's good influence or it's the early onset of middle-age. Hopefully, it's the former. The birds are singing their hearts out, and the light wind means I can smell the ocean in the air, but all I can think about is Kensi. Is it normal to feel this protective?
After a while I force my wits into some semblance of normality and go back inside, again creeping around and doing my best not to disturb her. Kensi is lying curled up in a ball, with the covers pulled right up over her head. It's very tempting to ease them back, just to make sure she's okay, but obviously that would be ridiculous, so I settle for kneeling down on the floor and putting my face really close to the covers, just to make sure she's still breathing. And then for some strange reason best known to myself, I crawl backwards out of the bedroom and into the bathroom, where I sit on the floor for a long while, trying to work out what to do next. I can't have a shower, because that might wake Kensi up. And I need to do something, to keep myself occupied. Okay, there's only one thing for it…
"I brought you some tea." I'd waited patiently downstairs until I heard Kensi get up and go to the bathroom.
"Thanks," She takes the cup in both hands and takes a slow sip. And then nearly throws the rest of the cup all over herself. "What did you do?"
What does she mean by that? I boiled the water, poured it over the tea bag and kind of dunked it up and down a couple of times before discarding it and adding some milk. That's how you make tea, isn't it? Unless you're British, or Japanese, or Chinese, of course, in which case it's a lot more complicated. "Doesn't it taste right?" It looked alright, but then it's not like I'd know. I drink coffee.
"The tea's fine." She takes another sip, as if to reassure herself of that. "I'm not talking about the tea. What did you do to your beard?"
"I shaved it off." I would have thought that was obvious.
"I can see that."
Kensi sounds quite annoyed, which is strange. Most people moan about my beard and tell me it's scruffy and I only have it because I'm too lazy to shave every day. Which is actually true, but beside the point, which is that it is my face and I can have a beard if I want to.
"Why? Why did you shave it off?"
"Because I was bored?" Well, it's almost the truth. Mind you, my hand was shaking so much it was a miracle I didn't cut my throat.
She shakes her head slowly. "You shaved because you were bored? Please tell me you only shaved your beard off?"
This is more like it. "No. that's not all I shaved."
"Dear God." Only there's a twinkle in her eyes, and she looks much more like herself. "Go on then, show me the worst."
Slushy plot bunny is looking rather shocked...