Afterwards, Marty lay in the sound sleep of oblivion, tangled happily among the bedclothes. Given that he had been genuinely freezing and it had taken some time (and considerable ministrations) from Kensi to warm him up again, she didn't feel she could really complain about him poaching all the covers, so she slipped out of bed, pulled on a t-shirt and some panties and then sat down in a chair to spent some more time simply watching him sleep. Marty was good at sleeping, she had to give him that. He addressed sleep with complete seriousness and utter concentration. He seemed able to slip into a world of total oblivion, and if there had been Olympic medals for soundness of sleep, then he would have easily been a gold medal contender. Unlike Kensi, who could be woken up by the slightest noise, all the evidence was that Marty could probably sleep through a minor earthquake and then boast about the fact next morning. But there was something deeper about the attraction of watching him sleeping, Kensi realised, for this was the one time when all the normal guards and fail-safes of day to day life were absent. Watching him sleeping was one of the few times when she felt it was possible to finally see the real man exposed before her, with all his frailties, and none of the protective barriers he'd carefully erected around himself. And inevitably, sitting quietly watching Marty sleep took her back to the days she'd spent sitting at the side of his bed in the hospital, after he'd been shot. The days when she had first started to see the real man behind the protective veneer: the man who would do anything for her, even at the risk of his own life. Not for the first time, Kensi wondered what on earth she had done to inspire that sort of love. She felt as if she could never tire of looking at him and wondering at the fate that had brought them together. But, as tempting as it was to sit and watch Marty for just a little bit longer, the growl of her stomach exerted an even more powerful force, so Kensi decided not to test how dead to the world her lover was, and crept out of the room.
'Her lover'. It was the first time she'd permitted herself to use these words and it felt good. More than that, it felt right. Love and Marty were suddenly inextricable. He was her reason for living, the part of her life that had been missing for far too long. And God, this relationship just felt so damned perfect, like it had always meant to be. And maybe it had? Maybe there was one true soul mate for each person out there and it was purely by luck that they'd finally connected? Kensi shuddered when she thought about how nearly they had almost thrown it all away. How many times she had tried to push him away. Why had she been so determined to deny how she felt? A cold chill seized her whole body, even though the sun was shining and there wasn't a cloud in the sky. She'd nearly lost the best thing that had ever happened to her and for a moment Kensi wondered if she was going to be sick, because losing Marty was inconceivable.
Clearly her blood sugar was low – it had been a long and rather strenuous morning, after all. A sandwich would probably help, Kensi thought, although a breakfast burrito would be even better. But while her fridge inevitably contained the remnants of at least one take-out delicacy, and normally had several in various stages of decomposition, it was a fair bet that Marty would have a cleaning schedule that precluded such a possibility. Which only proved that sometimes less-exacting standards of housekeeping were the way to go. Nevertheless, she made the best of the rather limited range of food available. Didn't the guy have anything that was just ready to go, other than vegetables?
Cosily ensconced on the sofa, with a sandwich that was as unhealthy as she could achieve, given the constrained choices his fridge offered, Kensi settled back to enjoy her free afternoon. Clearly they were going to have to come to some sort of mutual agreement on what constituted basic foodstuffs essential to a busy working life. A visit to the frozen foods section of the market was definitely on the horizon. She kicked off her shoes, grabbed hold of the remote and started channel surfing. It had to be said that there were worse ways of spending an afternoon than indulging in a little rest and relaxation, while your lover slumbered peacefully next door. It gave a girl time to recharge her batteries, refuel and catch up with all the latest trends at the same time. Yes, at the moment life felt very sweet indeed. She smiled to herself, took a large bite of her sandwich and found a music channel – life held no more. Except for a tall, slim blue eyed guy with fair hair, who for some reason known only to himself had fallen in love with a messed-up bunch of insecurities called Kensi Blye. The music filled the room and Kensi abandoned herself to the mindless pleasures of watching tv that required absolutely no intellectual input whatsoever.
"Okay – I'm clearly in the wrong apartment. Because mine doesn't have this hot girl dancing around in her underwear." Marty staggered through from the bedroom, wearing only a pair of boxers, rubbing his eyes and staring at the entrancing sight as Kensi gave full vent to her inner funk.
"You didn't read the memo from the landlord, did you? This is a once-in-a-lifetime, never to be repeated, limited availability special offer." Kensi danced across the room and kissed him lightly on the lips.
"I'll take it. No questions asked."
"Not even the price?" Kensi asked, turning around and grinding her hips ever so slightly.
"Why quibble about the small details?" Marty's eyes were firmly glued on her ass, as the lime green daisies on her panties danced provocatively in front of him as she shook her booty in front of his appreciative gaze..
"Got your eyes on the prize?"
"Most definitely." He flopped down on the sofa and gazed up at her. "Any chance of getting a private dance?"
"You never know your luck." The music changed and Kensi did a small bounce of joy that made Marty's eyes open wide as he clocked the way her breasts jiggled. "I love this song." She began to sing along as she shimmied adeptly, clasping her hands above her head and moving her hips slowly and sensually.
"Showing out, showing out, hit and run
Boy meets girl as beat goes on
Stitched up tight, can't break free
Love is the drug, got a hook on me
Oh oh catch that buzz
Love is the drug I'm thinking of
Oh oh can't you see
Love is the drug for me."
"Love is the drug, eh?" Marty raised one eyebrow quizzically. "Well, it works for me." He grinned at Kensi, who was now giving the dance her utmost.
"Me too. Are you sure you wouldn't rather have another pain pill?" Kensi suggested sweetly as the song ended.
"Nope. I'm too scared of what you might do to me next time." Marty hummed a few bars under his breath, as Kensi swung her legs up on his lap.
"Be afraid, be very afraid." Kensi gave a small moan of pleasure as he took hold of her foot and began to massage it gently. "Oh, that is just pure heaven."
"I once worked this cover as a massage therapist. It's amazing the things you can pick up." Unerringly, his fingers found a spot on the sole of her foot that made waves of peace seem to flow through out Kensi's body, so that she felt as if she didn't have a care in the world.
"I could get used to this," she admitted after a while. Just being together, not doing anything in particular. There was no stress, none of the anxiety and the endless feeling she was being judged and found wanting that had marked her relationship with Jack.
"Me too." Marty kissed each of her toes in turn and then gave her a dazzling smile. "I don't want this to ever end."
"It doesn't have to. But I have been thinking…" Kensi gathered up all her courage and gave him a beseeching look.
"Should I be afraid?" he asked. Please don't tell me I should be very afraid. Don't tell me you think we've gone as far as we can and this is it.
Many thanks to KMW for the concrit. Please be assured that, like all my stories, this one has a begining, a middle and an end - and that end is approaching! Of course, that is not to say that there will not be a sequel at some point... Regular readers will know how much I like sequels.
I also appreciate KMW's suggestion that I write a WHN for Human Traffic. We must be on the same wavelength because my plan is to write stories (probably WHNs) for all the episodes in season two. Nothing wrong with being ambitious, is there?
So, this is kind of a long-winded way of saying that I appreciate all the reviews you guys post. It seriously makes my day. And all suggestions are gratefully received. I'm blown away by how many people are following this story and don't want it to end. But sadly, it must end at some point. I know I'm one of the writers on this site who go in for longer stories and this one has turned out to be slightly larger than I'd originally anticipated. But, as I said before, there may very well be a sequel at some point. I think the next chapter will be the last one, unless Kensi and Marty have other ideas!
thanks again for reading - and enjoy the weekend!
MK
