She returns to the car with a murderous look on her face. Jeremiah is securely fastened into his seat, in the middle of the backseat. She climbs into the rear passenger's seat.
"I need you to take me home," she tells him.
He doesn't question this, as he has become accustomed to her moodiness. He climbs out of the backseat, and climbs into the driver's seat. She buckles herself in.
"I thought we were going to go shopping before we picked my mom up at the airport."
"There is no point."
"What has you in such a bad mood?"
"You!"
"I'm sorry. I don't know what I did."
"Can we just go, please?!"
He pulls away from the curb. She goes steely silent, a sign he knows is worrisome.
"How was your appointment?" He probes.
"Just fine," she grimaces.
"Did he clear you to go back to work?"
"Yes."
"You don't sound thrilled. Honey are you upset that you have to go back to work? I told you that if you want to stay home, I'll figure it out. I'll get a second job. It's okay. If you want to stay home with him, you can."
"You've helped enough already," she growls.
"What did I do?"
"This is all your fault."
"Could you clue me in, because I have no idea what you're talking about."
She positions herself in a familiar room. She stares at the doctor in utter confusion. She shakes her head, "What is going on?"
"Are you certain that you haven't been sexually active? I know that six, in your case, seven weeks can be a long time to wait."
Kensi thinks back, "Once, five weeks ago. I had completely forgotten about it. Why?"
He hands her a piece of paper. "This is one of the standard labs that we run," he explains.
A lump forms in her throat as she stares at the results on the page.
"There must be some kind of mistake," she insists.
"My tech is at lunch, but we're going to find out."
She heads into the adjoining bathroom, and changes into a rather unflattering paper gown. She feels her body go numb as the seconds tick away. Each second seems like an eternity. She stares at the screen in utter disbelief.
She is silent the entire car ride home. When they pull into the driveway her first instinct is to bolt out of the car. She glances over, and finds Jeremiah sound asleep, next to her. She exhales, and sinks into her seat, as she unbuckles her belt. Deeks puts the car into park, and exits the vehicle. He walks around the back of the car, and reaches for the infant's restraints.
"Wait."
"Are you going to get out?"
"Have a seat," she tells him.
"Kensi, if you're not ready to get out of the car, that's fine, but it's his nap time."
"It can wait five minutes," she argues.
He locks eyes with her. Her facial expression tells him that it's serious. He nods, and climbs into the backseat with her. He closes the door, and waits for her to begin. Jeremiah sits between them, acting as a buffer. The look on her face tells him that she's none too pleased. She reaches into her bag, and pulls out a piece of paper. She glances at it, and then offers it to him.
"What is it?"
"See for yourself," she answers.
He takes the paper from her hand. She carefully slips Jeremiah out of his seat, and vacates the vehicle. She grabs his diaper bag off the floor, and heads into the house. Deeks sits in the backseat of the car, alone. Her car keys rest in his pocket as he stares at a black and white image. He furrows his brows in confusion. He stares at the name, and date, and gets a sinking feeling. He slowly exits the car, and heads inside. He finds her sitting in the nursery, in the rocking chair, holding Jeremiah. Tears are streaming down her face. He clears his throat, as he stands in the doorway. She briefly looks up at him, and then breaks eye contact.
"This is from today?" He questions.
"Yes," she barely chokes out, as she pats Jeremiah to sleep.
"Are you being serious? If you're joking it's not very funny."
"Do I look like I'm joking?" She snaps as she rises from the rocking chair. She walks across the room, and places her son in his crib.
She turns around, and moves towards the doorway. She flips of the light, and follows her husband to the living room. He takes a seat on the couch, and she places herself on the coffee table.
"Talk to me," he implores in a soft tone.
"I don't understand how this could happen."
He shrugs, "I don't know."
"Can we talk about this later?"
"After my mother gets here? She'll know something is up."
"I am not ready to deal with this."
"I'm sorry."
"This year has already been such a roller coaster."
"I know."
"I'm scared."
He scoots close to her. He presses his face to her hair. He breathes her in. "That's okay."