Kensi is sitting at the bar at the InterContinental. She's facing away from the lobby because when the lobby was in her line of sight all she did was stare at everyone who walked by wondering if Deeks would come. She's afraid to hope, but she's doing it anyway. Relaxing from the op this afternoon, she rolls her neck to the right and the left. She takes a sip of her mojito and looks in the direction of her phone, but that isn't what she's thinking about.
Even in the hurt of what happened four months ago, she knows they both have some apologizing to do. By the time the hurt didn't sting so bad and she'd had a chance to think about it, too much time had passed to just pick up the phone. At least in her mind. She figured next time she was in LA she would reach out, and, well, here she is.
Slipping the note in his jeans was cowardly. And dumb. Sitting here she doesn't know if he got it and didn't come, or if he hasn't even found it. Or maybe he's out with a girlfriend. She should have just asked him face to face. She hopes she would have been able to tell something from his reaction that would tell her if she's drinking alone for the next hour and a half.
Deeks sees her from the lobby and makes his way over. Slow. Deliberate. Still worried she may disappear. He comes right up behind her. He sees her posture change when she senses him. He leans close, sweeping her hair over her shoulder and away from one ear.
"Been a while, Fern."
Even from behind her he can see the shape of her face change as she smiles.
"Too long," she answers.
She spins the stool around and pulls him into a hug, his arms going around hers. Different from the hug this afternoon – more free, less reserved. He puts his cheek against her forehead and just holds her. It isn't like they did this a lot before so he couldn't have missed it, but he misses her and it feels so good to have her close.
He sits and orders a drink and stares without meaning to. Even with the bandages from the shootout she's still beautiful. She looks away feeling the weight of his gaze and smiles. Deeks think her smile is so bright it could power LA.
"Not with your team tonight?" he opens. Innocuous. Harmless.
"We're wrapped for the day," she reports. "This afternoon was a success. We have a plan for tomorrow. Will be good to put this one to bed."
"And then what?" he asks. Her smile disappears.
"Hey, listen…," she starts.
"No – I'm not asking …. I'm doing this all wrong."
"No, you're fine. I'm … I'm …. I don't know what I am." She giggles nervously and they both relax. She takes a sip of her drink while he orders one for himself. Then she steadies her resolve. Whether he has anything to say to her or not, she has something to say to him. She needs to clear her conscience, no matter what.
"I wish I'd been in touch sooner. If I had it to do over again, I'd do it differently - how I left. I kept thinking when I was in town I would call. This is my first time back to LA in four months."
"I don't even know where you live." He realizes it for the first time. Such a basic thing, to know what city someone lives in. It struck him so suddenly today how they went from inseparable to estranged.
His responses hits her as an accusation, and she stiffens. Maybe this was a terrible idea. She stands, thinking about settling up her tab and getting the hell out of dodge. He sees her walls go up, a hint of guilt on her face, he needs to intervene. Her words surprised him, but if he doesn't regroup she'll bolt, and he couldn't take that again.
He's spent the last four months thinking about what he would say. Time to meet her confession with one of his own.
"If I had it to do differently, I'd do a lot differently. I can think of so many moments that day when I should have manned up. Come clean. Told you I was sorry. And I wasn't sorry because you left. I was sorry because we were wrong. I was wrong - to go along with it, to sell it. I'm sorry."
It hangs in the air for a second while she makes sure her heart is still in one piece. She sits back down on the stool next to him and breathes.
"I'm really glad you came tonight," she finally says.
"I'm really glad you asked."
Another pause.
"I don't want to rehash what happened. Really," she tells him. "I just want to know how you are. What you've been up to. I want to pretend there's no baggage, no missions, no complications and just hear about you."
His drink is delivered, and he raises it to toast.
"To just being us tonight."
"Just us."
And when they start talking they can't stop. He tells her about Monty and a skiing trip he took to Utah and his new surfboard. She tells him about the place she's being housed in in San Diego and that she's getting better at surfing and how the food in San Diego is great but she hates trying new restaurants alone.
They order another round and keep going. He doesn't tell her about the revolving door of people that weren't a fit for the team. She doesn't tell him about the missions she's gone on or how one of the guys call her Business because she all business on the job. Banter reminds her too much of Deeks.
They are easy together, laughing, joking, ribbing. She's the most at home she's been in four months, and he's the most at ease. He knows it's a risk, and he doesn't want to break the spell, but he can't let the moment pass. He has regrets from four months ago that he doesn't want to repeat, the least of which is being open about what's on his mind. "I could come down for a weekend and try some restaurants with you. We could start with a definitive tour of San Diego's best fish tacos."
She gets serious and he instantly regrets it.
She stands up and closes on his barstool, not that they were far apart before. He opens his knees wider and makes room as she stands between his legs, right up against him. She doesn't want to think too far into the future. She wants to think about tonight.
"We can talk about San Diego and fish tacos later. Right now, I'm right here in front of you. What do you want to do right now?"
And just like that he's lost in her. Lost in her knowing smile and the way her hair falls over her shoulders. Lost in the intensity of her eyes and the electricity of their connection. He stands up into her, pressing his chest right to hers and catches her face with his hands, one on either side, holding her still while he brings his lips to hers. She meets him, tentatively at first but then harder as her hands duck under the sides of his shirt and her fingernails dance at the edge of his abdominal muscles.
Now he feels cheated because she's gotten to touch his body and he's still on her face, and he takes it as a challenge. One of his arms slides around her body, flattening a hand against the small of her back and pressing them together more tightly. His fingers on his other hand slide around her ear, up into her hair and create the most glorious tension and he pulls the slightest amount. When her head follows her hair back he moves to her exposed neck, trailing kisses from her jaw to her collar bone.
She reaches into her back pocket and pulls out a key card for a room at the hotel. It was almost more hopeful than she dared to be, but she did it anyway. A just in case. Someplace anonymous, neutral ground, not sure if she's saying hello or goodbye, just knowing that after seeing him that afternoon it's all she could think about.
"Come upstairs with me?"
"Oh god, yes," he answers. They barely make it to her room before they are pulling each other's clothes off.
It isn't sloppy. It isn't drunk. It isn't rushed. It's deliberate, and strong, and passionate. And they go a few rounds, stopping at one point to order dessert and another round of drinks to the room.
When they finally fall asleep they are a pile of tangled limbs and contentment. It's better than either of them have slept in four months. When he wakes, she's not in bed. Surveying the room he hears the shower and lets out a sigh of relief. Now that he's held her, made love to her, he's not sure how he ever waited or how he'll manage if he can't be with her again. He throws on some clothes when there's a knock on the door and he signs for breakfast even though she ordered it and he has no idea if it's right.
Then Kensi comes out of the bathroom in a robe and full of apologies.
"I'm sorry. I thought I'd be out in time. I wanted to wake you myself."
He wraps his arms around her and kisses her.
"It was time to get up anyway. Thanks for breakfast."
They eat and are grateful for the coffee, hoping it will be an antidote to the lack of sleep. They both still have smiles plastered on their faces. It was a great night.
"I, uh, don't want to get ahead of myself here," Deeks starts, "and I'm a big boy so you can tell me if I'm off base, but how long are you around? I'd really like to see you again."
He's encouraged by her smile.
"I've got the op tonight, but I'll be in town for a couple of days. Dinner tomorrow night?"
"I'd love that," he says, not even wanting to play hard to get. He needs to go and doesn't want to. One last kiss before he's gone. And a favor. "Text me when the op is over tonight, ok."
"It'll be a little late for a booty call," she jokes.
"Well, booty calls are supposed to be late, but no, your virtue is safe tonight, I promise." He unties the twist in the belt of her robe, and slides his hands around her sides and pulls her flush against him. "It was one thing when I didn't know what you were up to. But now I know you're strapping on body armor and going tactical tonight, I'll sleep better when I know you're done."
She just nods.
She kisses him and then untangles him from her robe, heading for the desk and taking out a piece of hotel stationary. She writes for a minute and then folds it, handing it to Deeks.
"And just so you know you aren't off base, it's the place Justice set me up in in San Diego – in case you want to come down for fish tacos. And my new cell number if you want to call."