I thought that watching the Royal Wedding this morning would put the plot bunny in a good mood. I even gave him a sausage roll. But no - he's mad again and insisted I write this next bit. Bad plot bunny.

Maybe I should call in an exorcist to get rid of him?


Brisk footsteps could be heard in the distance, beating an impatient staccato rhythm on the tiles. They were unmistakable. "Update, if you please, Mr Callen." Hetty was slightly out of breath and her hair was in disarray.

"Nothing more to report." He shrugged his shoulders helplessly. "We know as much – or as little as you do."

Fingers drumming on the sides of her legs, Hetty considered her options carefully. She could knock politely on the door and then let herself in; she could get the Director of Medical Services to personally provide her with an update; she could even send Marty a test message and ask him what was going on. Then again, she could exercise a little self-restraint and just wait patiently. While the fourth option was the least palatable, it was also the most practical. It was more important that the medical staff looked after her agent than that they came out here to deliver a briefing. But she badly wanted to know how Kensi was.

"Has anyone called Kensi's mom?" Callen asked after a long silence.

"Miss Jones did, over an hour ago. I arranged for her to be driven straight here." That, at least, had been something Hetty could do – pull a few strings at Camp Pendleton so that Allison Blye did not have to worry about the long dive over to LA. She looked impatiently at the closed door again and shook her head sadly. The waiting game was the hardest game of all.

Eventually, the door opened and Deeks came out, looking pale and shattered. His eyes were empty as he surveyed the faces, filled with anticipation that looked eagerly at him. "Sorry to keep you guys waiting so long." It wasn't his voice – the usual lightness of tone was completely absent, the pitch was much lower and the delivery was hesitant. He nodded towards Hetty. "Good of you to come."

"I wouldn't be anywhere else," she assured him.

"Thanks." He leaned against the wall and closed his eyes for a second. "It was touch and go there for while." All at once his legs didn't want to support him and it was easy just to let his back slide down the wall into a crouching position, resting his elbows on his knees. "But they reckon she should come through the surgery." Raising his head, Marty looked at Nico. "I had to make some decisions in there. You see, Kensi named me as her next of kin." In his left hand he held the diamond ring and as he clenched his fingers around it, the stone bit into his flesh.

She knelt down beside him and put her arm around his shoulder and laid her cheek against the top of his head. "It's alright, Mikey. You can tell me about it. I'm right here."

Nico wouldn't judge him, he knew that. Nico had always been on his side. If there had been one constant in his life over all the years, it was Nico.

"She was stabbed in the abdomen, with a long blade. Something a stiletto blade, they reckon. So it was a deep, penetrating wound. Caused a lot of damage and that's what they're trying to fix in surgery."

"It's a good hospital, with excellent surgeons," Callen reminded him.

It was as if he hadn't heard. "But, I had to give permission, that if they couldn't… that if they didn't have any other option… you see, there as a lot of bleeding and a lot of damage and they weren't sure how things would go."

The blue eyes raised to Nico's were haunted. "I agreed that if they had to – to save her life – then the surgeons could remove Kensi's womb. I didn't have a choice, you see. Not if they were going to be sure of saving her." His voice broke and Marty dropped his gaze back down to the floor. They'd never talked about children, he didn't even know how Kensi felt about having a baby. BUt to be the man who denied her the chance of ever making that choice for herself, of taking away the hope of ever get pregnant - how could he ever look at himself in the mirror again and not cure the day he was born?

"Of course you didn't." Nico pulled him into her arms. "You did the right thing, Mikey darling."

"What if she hates me?" he mumbled.

"Then you'll have to let her hate you," Sam said briskly, hiding his inner horror. He could remember when Denise had first held Crosby in her arms, the total joy and fulfilment on her face. It was cruel that Kensi should be denied that. "Better she's alive and mad at you. But don't get hung up because you had to make a decision tosave her life. Do you think Kensi would have stopped them amputating your arm if the drugs hadn't worked that she'd have sat back and watched you die?" Christ, but he felt sorry for Deeks.

"The hardest decisions we make are those which affect the ones we love," Hetty advised, speaking from long years of experience. She had learned a long time ago that you could survive pretty much anything, given a little bit of luck, but she also knew that only love could break your heart.


Please understand - I would NEVER do that to Kensi or make poor darling Deeks suffer quite so much. It was all the fault of the evil plot bunny. Not me at all. Except that Deeks does do suffering quite beautifully, while maintaining his fabulous hair at the same time. I just thought it was important to point that out.