In the morning Deeks wakes to find her beside him. Her hair is fanned out on the pillow and her body is warm by his side. She might be drooling, but somehow she makes it work. They stayed up too late and slept in too long and there isn't time to do all the things he wants to do to the beautiful woman next to him. He kisses her shoulder gently and slides out of bed to shower and make breakfast.
She wakes to the smell of his pancakes and his coffee and immediately curses every protein bar she let pass for breakfast. He's cooked in the mornings for her when he's visited in San Diego, but for some reason, this smells particularly amazing. She pulls on clothes and wanders downstairs and she swears she's in someone else's life. The table is set and breakfast ready and his smile - his smile gives her confidence, and she thinks she'll need it today.
It's going to be a big day.
He fills her coffee and watches her. Her mind is wandering, and he calls her on it.
"Whatcha thinking about?"
She shakes her head as though there isn't anything on her mind, but her knows that's not true.
"Oookay," he says, clearly not believing her. "How about, what are your plans for the day?"
That is an easier place to start. "Well, first I thought I'd devour the best breakfast I've had in a while."
"Thank you thank you."
"And then I thought maybe I'd talk you into dropping me by my apartment. I want to clean some things up and check on my car. I'm going to drive it back down to San Diego tomorrow."
"It's fine," he says without making eye contact. "The apartment is clean and the car got an oil change a month ago. It's in good shape."
She's taken aback by his response. She looks, waiting for him to make eye contact. He finally gives in and returns her gaze, but then quickly looks away and makes a joke of his admission.
"It's not like I'm using it as a secret love nest or going through your lingerie. You took all the good stuff anyway." He wiggles his eyebrows enticingly. "I just drop by sometimes to make sure everything is ok."
Her eyes don't match the playfulness of his comment, and he explains himself. His words are slow and kind. "When you were gone I didn't know if you were on vacation or what. When you kept the apartment, I was hopeful. Hopeful that you'd come back. Hopeful that you'd reach out. Doing some dishes and getting an oil change was how I felt less guilty about checking in on you when I wasn't sure I was welcome."
Her hand reaches for his forearm, and her fingertips press into his arm. She's overcome with how badly she handled that night all those months ago. She feels strongly she was right in principle, but wrong in execution.
"You were always welcome."
They get a few more bites into breakfast but Kensi's mind is going a mile a minute. She tries to focus on amazing pancakes, but she's about to take a big step to fix something she did months ago, and it occurs to her that there are still a lot of unknowns.
"I'm not…," she starts, but stops.
"Not what?" he asks. There's no answer, just a pause, and another start.
"I don't…,"
He waits again, but she doesn't continue.
"You know you're not finishing any of these sentences, right?"
"Listen, I don't want to put you on the spot. That isn't what I'm trying to do, but am I overstepping?"
"Baby, you need to back up. Overstepping how?"
"I just assumed it was ok if I took over your life for a few days, just assumed it was ok for me to invite myself over. I never really asked if …."
"Wow. You took a whole trip there. What's going on?"
She's doing this poorly and she knows it, but she isn't good at talking about relationships and feelings and doesn't know how to get to where she is trying to go. When she tries it sounds abrupt to her own ears, but she can't seem to help herself.
"What are we?"
He puts down his fork and steadies his face. This feels like a big moment and he wants to be careful how he meets it. He takes a deliberate sip of coffee and when he puts the mug down he begins cautiously.
"Well," he says thoughtfully, "I didn't think you wanted to put a label on it."
"Maybe I need to," she tells him, going with pure honesty.
"What do you want us to be?" he asks. It isn't deflection, it's self-preservation. Maybe a little fear. "'Cause, listen, I'm not trying to dodge the question or put any pressure on you, or go somewhere you're not ready for. But Kensi, I'm afraid if I answer that question from my heart I'll scare you away."
She stands suddenly and starts pacing away and he can't stop himself from standing, too. When she turns back to face him she's fidgeting with her hands and she's startled that he's right behind her.
"I want to be with you," she tells him. "No matter what job, no matter what city, I want us to find a way to make us work. I want us to be together."
The tension in his body dissipates. His shoulders get a little broader. He stands in front of her, hooking his thumbs into the front pocket of his jeans. Her declaration makes him stronger.
"That's all I want," he whispers, so grateful that they are in the same place, that she's sure. "I don't care where, or how. I just want to be with you." Now her opening questions make more sense, and his brain recalls them and his heart answers them. "You are welcome to take over my life, and my house. You are not overstepping. There isn't anyone for me but you."
Her arms go around him and she crashes into his chest. They hold each other for a moment. He sees it's time for him to head out but doesn't want to leave her.
"Should I take the day off? We could play hooky and …"
She loves that he wants to stay with her, but it's all just come together in her mind. She wants to be here, in LA, with him, and at NCIS. That's what she wants, and what she needs to make happen. Which means that there's a certain Operations Manager she needs to have a conversation with. No point in telling him the plan until she's had that conversation.
"No," she tells him. "I mean, it would be great, but no. You go to work. I have something to take care of."
He doesn't ask for details. If she wanted to tell him she would. They clear the table and he drops her at her apartment. Kensi walks the rooms remembering how angry she'd been, how lost she was the last time she was there, and how different her mindset is now. She smiles when she sees her kitchen, sink empty, counters sparkling, fridge cleaned out – how Deeks took care of her even when he didn't know if he would ever see her again.
She showers in her own shower with the water pressure she loves.
She is going through a pile of mail on her table when there's a knock at the door. She picks up her 9mm, still missing her SIG, and approaches the door quietly. No one should know she's here. The man at the door is casually dressed holding an NCIS badge in front of him in clear sight. She puts the gun against the small of her back and opens the door.
"Ms. Blye. Ms. Lange sends her regards and asked if you are available for a discussion." He uses his head to gesture to a car behind him. "She sent a car for whenever you're ready."
"Umm. Yeah. I'll be out," she tells him, and he returns to the car to wait. Hetty sent a car for her. Hetty is keeping tabs on her. Of course Hetty is keeping tabs on her, she's Hetty. Kensi throws a few things in a cross body style messenger bag and heads out.
The NCIS agent who drives her to the location never bothers to give his name. Kensi thinks it's strange she's never met him, but then, it wouldn't be out of bounds for Hetty to have secret agents who do special Hetty bidding. With Hetty, nothing is really a surprise. He doesn't speak along the way, and doesn't get out of the car. He just pulls up in front of a nondescript doorway and points at it.
Kensi gets out and walks to the door. Not bothering to knock, Kensi opens the battered, oversized entry. A split staircase sits in front of her, a long staircase up with a velvet rope blocking the way and to the left, a half staircase down. She hears music, and the heels of her boots clunk loudly on the stairs as she descends.
The room she enters looks like a speakeasy from a long time past. There are a few tables, all empty save one, and a stage area where a man is playing a baby grand piano. Hetty is the only person in the audience, and her back is to Kensi, sipping tea and listening to the music. As Kensi comes close, Hetty reorients herself, looking to the chair across from here and gesturing for Kensi to take a seat. A waitress appears with a tea tray, bringing Kensi her own selection. Kensi chooses one, sits and lets her tea steep.
"Keeping track of me, Hetty," she opens. It's almost an accusation.
"No, not at all Ms. Blye. I asked Mr. Deeks if you had returned to San Diego. He mentioned you were at your apartment, and I was hoping we might speak."
"What can I do for you?"
"The team is incomplete without you. You have proven irreplaceable, which is a surprise to no one. I'd like you to come back. I believe NCIS is where you belong."
It's what Kensi wants. She knows that now, and Hetty came to her, saving her a phone call she wasn't sure how to make. Another two hours and Kensi would have had to be the one to reach out to requesting the meeting. She's grateful she didn't have to take the first step. And yet even being here, she still struggles to say yes. There's silence as Kensi thinks, and Hetty keeps going.
"We talked about it the night it happened. I thought we had come to an understanding."
"I didn't understand."
"I told you that I was in your debt."
"A future favor didn't make it right," Kensi points out.
"No. And I apologized in San Diego. You said that made a difference," Hetty reminds her.
"It did."
"If I can risk giving you some feedback, I believe you've assigned malice to my motives that wasn't there," Hetty tells her.
"I think you played with me to make a point about me and Deeks," Kensi says, finally voicing a notion that's bothered her from the beginning.
"No, that wasn't the intent. That might have been an outcome, but that wasn't the objective, Kensi."
"Then what was the objective?"
"The objective was to recover the RDX. The objective was to take Clarence Fisk off the street. The objective was the mission. You know as well as anyone that the mission comes first. But, I did see an opportunity. You wouldn't have been the first person to have .. feelings for a close associate. And before you crossed a line, before you got in too deep, I took an opportunity to demonstrate how complicated the situation could be. It was shortsighted, maybe. I know that now. It wasn't my lesson to teach. I certainly didn't learn that lesson that way."
"You?"
Hetty reached into her pocket, not responding to the question. She takes out a necklace, silver and onyx, a geometric design on the pendant dangling on a silver chain. She lays it out carefully on the table. "We all carry with us reminders of opportunities lost." Hetty pushes it across the table to Kensi.
"Hetty, I couldn't."
"I insist. This was a gift,' she starts, choosing each word carefully, determined to convey meaning without divulging too much. Old habits die hard. "Someone gave that to me and now I'm giving it to you." Kensi doesn't ask who. She just listens. "I wasn't … there were so many complications, too many to stay the course. But," she says with a knowing smile, "it appears that you and Mr. Deeks found the determination that escaped me." She looked off into the distance for a moment. "I don't think I've ever told that story before."
She still hasn't really told it, but Kensi understands. Hetty told her a story, sort of – entrusted her with insight into Hetty's life, and gave her a symbol, a physical manifestation of her trust. It was the last domino that needed to fall for Kensi to say what she needs to say.
"Hetty, I want to come back."
"Then come back, my dear."
"I didn't like the team keeping secrets from me," Kensi says matter-of-factly.
"Well, I can't tell you that there won't be any more secrets. It's a hazard of the job. What I can tell you that I give you my word that where you and Mr. Deeks are concerned, I will put all the cards on the table."
"So you are ok with Deeks and I being together?"
It's at that moment that lunch arrives, and Kensi waits, holding her breath without realizing, knowing that everything hinges on Hetty's answer.