Tag to 7x01

I don't own anything

"Party Marty!" Kensi's jovial tone carries through the apartment as she pushes the front door open with her hip, a large bag of takeout in one hand and a six-pack of their favorite beer in the other. "Your dinner is here."

Deeks wanders into view from the kitchen with an exaggerated groan but he still can't stop himself from smiling at the proud look on his girlfriend's face, "Really, Kens? Are you going to keep calling me that?"

She pecks his cheek as she brushes past him to deposit their food on the kitchen counter before turning to him with a look of amusement on her face, "How long did you call me KayKay after meeting my friends?"

"I still call you KayKay sometimes."

"Exactly," she smirks, stepping in front of him and placing her hands on his waist, pinching his sides. "I should get more than half a day out of this."

His hands instinctively find her hips and he lets out a long sigh of faux frustration as she chuckles and begins peppering soft kisses along his jaw.

"I hate you," he mumbles against her lips when her mouth finds his.

Kensi snorts, "Liar." She pulls back, a sly smile on her face and her eyes challenging him. "You'll be singing a different tune when you see what I brought you for dinner."

He looks over her shoulder and for the first time seems to notice that the food she brought in isn't what they had agreed on. "No pizza?" He eyes the bag suspiciously, "I told you I didn't want Chinese tonight, Kens."

Shaking her head, Kensi steps out of their embrace and nudges him towards the food, "Turns out that restaurant you saw along the beach this morning serves breakfast all day, so…"

"Pasta with sausage and bacon?!" Deeks exclaims as he opens the bag and catches a whiff of the undoubtedly delicious meal he had been denied early this morning. A plate suddenly materializes in front of his face and he smiles down at Kensi and drops a quick kiss to the tip of her nose. "I take it back, I don't hate you."

. . . .

An hour later, their empty plates and beer bottles are scattered on the coffee table as the sounds of Monday Night Football fill the comfortable silence between them. Kensi is stretched out along the length of the couch, her head and shoulders resting against Deeks's chest as one of his hands rests across her middle and his free hand trails a lazy path up and down her arm.

Deeks is drifting off to sleep when he feels her shift against him and suddenly senses her gaze on him. Squinting one eye open, he's met with Kensi's mismatched eyes studying him, an unasked question in their depths.

"Stop being creepy," he closes his eye and murmurs quietly, his voice already rough even though he hasn't actually slept yet.

When she doesn't respond right away, he opens both eyes and sees her more clearly and easily reads the worry on her face. Before he can ask her what's wrong, she exhales and starts to speak.

"Promise me something?" she asks softly.

Deeks is immediately thrust back to the first time she asked him this same question – when she asked him not to get himself killed. And then he almost did. He shudders at the memory and forces himself to focus on her. "Anything," his voice thick with emotion.

She offers up a small smile – it's not lost on her what is running through his mind right now, because it's running through hers too. Lacing her fingers with the hand around her waist, she squeezes his fingers, "If this internal affairs investigation starts causing a lot of trouble, don't pull a Callen and disappear on me. Let me help you."

She knows he can't promise her anything – that it's probably unfair for her to even ask, when she's done exactly what she's asking him not to do – but she needs to say it anyway.

Deeks thinks he should have seen this coming – they've been partners for five years and now they're so much more. "I don't want to do this without you," he assures her and feels the tension leave her body, if only for a second, before he continues, "but, Kens, my priority is keeping you safe. I need to protect you."

"I don't need you to protect me," Kensi tightens her grip on his hand.

"I know you don't, but I need me to," Deeks drops a lingering kiss to the top of her head, breathing in the subtle scent of her shampoo. "It's what partners do – what we do – right?"

She nods silently against his chest and sighs, "I just…watching Sam today… I don't ever want to be in that position."

Deeks hugs her close and rests his chin on top of her head, "I know," he whispers, "Can I ask you something too?"

"Yeah," Kensi lifts her head, "Of course."

"What were you saying earlier about me getting naked?"

He laughs at her slightly stunned expression, having clearly caught her off-guard with the sudden change in subject. Taking advantage, he slowly reaches down and begins toying with the hem of the soft, well-worn LAPD t-shirt that now spends more time on her body than on his.

Kensi snaps out of her stupor and pushes herself into a sitting position, "Ooooh no. Uh-uh," she's serious but still can't seem stop the short laugh that bubbles out of her chest, "If you think either one of us is getting naked after your perverted Fifty Shades of Hetty comment earlier, you're delusional."

"Really?!" he groans and drops his head back dramatically.

"I need time to get that image out of my head," she leans over and presses a kiss to his cheek before whispering seductively in his ear, "Though I can think of one way you might end up naked tonight."

He lifts his head and raises his eyebrows hopefully, "Oh yeah?"

"Mmhmm," Kensi kisses him hard before she stands up, heading towards his bedroom.

As if drawn to her by an uncontrollable force, Deeks stands and begins to follow her without saying a word. Her next words, called over her shoulder with a smirk on her face, stop him in his tracks.

"Call your bath house buddy, Kirkin."