Tossing the well-used baby name dictionary one of her friends had given her on to the couch, Kensi scooted next to Deeks, who was squeezed in between the front of the couch and the coffee table. So far, they'd agreed on a lot of names they did not want to give their future child, but nothing that they actually liked. Kensi briefly pressed her hand to her stomach and smiled.
"If it's a boy, I think we should use Martin for his middle name," Kensi said, squeezing Deeks knee.
"No!" Kensi's eyes widened at his vehement refusal and he smiled sheepishly, backtracking immediately. "I mean, why stick another kid with that name." Even though he tried to play it off as nothing serious, Kensi knew something more was going on.
"Deeks, you've suggested Archibald as a contender, I don't really believe you're worried about giving him a weird name. So what's the real problem?" He sighed and rested the back of his head on the couch.
"I don't know, it just," he sighed again. "I don't want to saddle our child with all the baggage that comes with having my name. If we're going to name him or her, let it be someone they can be proud of." Kensi stared at him in amazement; some part of his still truly believed he wasn't worthy or admiration.
"But we would be," she said, pressing a finger to his lips when he stated to object. "I am beyond proud of you Deeks. For everything you've accomplished and for the man you are today. You are a good man." She paused for emphasis. "And any child would be lucky to have as a father and bear your name." She leaned in and pressed a kiss to his temple, running her fingers through his hair. Deeks made a soft, choking sound and clasped at her hand.
"How can you always have such faith in me?" he asked quietly. Kensi smiled down at him sadly and continued carding her fingers through his hair.
"Because I trust you, and I love you, and I know you are everything you think you aren't." A tear slowly leaked it of the side of Deeks' eye and he pulled her against his chest. He silently held for a minute, a few more tears leaking into her hair. When he pulled back, his eyes were still wet, but he was grinning mischievously.
"So, you like the sound of Archibald Martin?"
"I love you Marty Deeks, but not that much," she told him, pressing her lips to his.