Deeks was losing his mind. It had been five days since they'd found Kensi, and everything about it put his mind in overdrive. He joked about life and worked cases with the rest of the OSP team, but the emptiness of her desk knowing she was back left him uneasy.
The look in her eyes once Alawi was on his knees still haunted him.
Sam told him to give her space. Then there were two days where she was locked in a safe house while she was sort of debriefed and sort of interrogated depending on which three letter organization was doing the asking.
But now it had been five days and she hadn't reached out. To anyone. And she hadn't been home. He had the security camera feeds from her apartment ported to his phone so he could keep an eye on the place when she was gone, and there was no sign of her. Showing up at 7AM to hang with Nell and Eric in Ops and getting them to run through any activity on Kensi's aliases yielded no intel – Kensi was off the grid, and it was killing him.
When lunchtime rolled around he gratefully accepted whatever food truck Callen had picked for the day and opened the container at his desk, about to dig in when he heard the notification beep on his phone. It wasn't Kensi's security system, but his own. He pulled up the entry camera to full size, small as the phone screen was, and made out the distinct silhouette of his partner.
His eyes were glued to the screen, watching her let herself in with her emergency key. She looked calm – nothing that would make him worry. And she didn't get too far into the apartment, like she felt like she was intruding which she technically was, but he couldn't have been happier just to know she was ok.
Kensi simply came in about six steps, leaned against the wall, and slid down to the ground. Monty did the rest. The dog was so happy to see her it looked like he might explode. Deeks knew the feeling. Monty went paws up on her shoulder licking her face, and she scratched the happy pup. Eventually he snuggled against her, and she let him cuddle up against her legs. She put her head back against the wall and fell asleep.
He ran down a lead on a case with Nell that afternoon, peaking at his phone once or twice. At first it struck him as cute – almost adorable – to watch her sleep curled up with his dog. And then the longer she slept, the more it bothered him. It seemed that a nap that long in a barely comfortable position against a wall on a hard tile floor might tell him that she wasn't sleeping at night or this wouldn't have happened.
So if she wasn't at her apartment, or using any of her cover resources, where was she spending her nights?
Then after about three hours, he heard the motion detector ding on his phone again and saw her give Monty one last scratch before she made her way out his door. He knew he had no recourse. There was no way to get there quickly enough to follow her, no way to track her if she didn't want to be found.
When he got home he settled in on the couch for the night. He made Kensi a plate for dinner despite knowing there was almost no chance she would come by. He walked Monty and looked around corners in case she was close. He had no claim on her, no right to demand she call, but he needed her, loved her, and couldn't shake the feeling that whatever she was going through they could do it better together.
The next day he kept his normal Saturday routine. Some cloud cover at the beach with good waves, and he spent the morning in the water to clear his mind. When he sat on his board in the ocean waiting for the next wave he would ride, his eyes drifted to the beach in front of him. That was when he saw her.
His partner.
In shorts and sweatshirt, sunglasses hiding the direction of her gaze, throwing a blanket still folded in half on the sand. She lowered herself to her blanket island that had space for another resident, and stayed to one side like she was reserving a space for someone else. Her legs crossed and her arms wrapped around her knees, she stared out to the ocean. Deeks let himself be hopeful that it was an invitation.
And he took it.
Riding the next wave in reached the shore, he unzipped his suit and peeled it down over his shoulders to his waist. Then he walked to her slowly, as if an energetic approach might chase her away. Putting down the board gently he sat next to her, mirroring her position. As he grabbed his wrist with the opposite hand around his crossed legs he fought the urge to look at her. He just looked straight ahead and waited.
And then he sensed her movement as her head came over to the side and rested on his shoulder. His eyes closed in gratitude, and before reason could stop him his lips put a gentle kiss on the top of her head.
"Welcome home," he whispered.
Her hand touched her cheek and might have wiped away a tear, but he couldn't be sure and he wasn't asking. He just put his cheek against her head and breathed in the knowledge that she was safe and sound and here. Today that would be enough.
Eventually he adjusted his position. His arms went behind him for support and his legs stretched out in front of him. He tried to keep his shoulder steady, but his movement triggered her to move. He kicked himself mentally, until he realized that he hadn't broken their moment. Instead she just pushed slightly away from him and leaned over so she could rest her head on his thigh.
He mindlessly let his fingers play with her hair and she drifted off to sleep. Nothing was going to move him from that spot until she was ready. He was probably there an hour only slightly shifting weight on his arms to keep them from getting too stiff.
She woke with a start, quickly looking around before sitting up.
"Sorry," she said so quietly that he wasn't sure he heard it.
"I'm not."
She gathered herself mentally and then physically, eventually standing up. Her sunglasses went to the top of her head, and once he stood up to join her she grabbed the blanket and folded it the rest of the way.
"I'm gonna …" she trailed off, but gestured with her head that she meant to leave.
He was undone at the thought of her being out of his sight. There was no more trying to hide how much she meant to him. Now all that was left was finding a way to show her that he would always be there.
"Wait," he said, gently reaching for her forearm and grateful to find no flinch or resistance when he wrapped his hand around her. "This afternoon. Like around 5, I was thinking of maybe grabbing noodles at that outdoor place you love near Manhattan Beach. No pressure, but I'll have a seat for you."
She looked like she was about to shake her head no. Maybe she even had just started when he stepped close to her and pulled her into a hug. She was rigid at first, and then slowly leaned in until finally she dropped the blanket she was holding and brought her arms around her partner.
"It takes a few days to forget – to let the things you do and person you have to be, to let it all fall away. And then it takes a few days to remember – remember who you are and why you had do to whatever you had to do. And then, on the other side of that, there's equilibrium. Give yourself some time, Kensilina."
She nodded as her face remained buried in his shoulder. When she looked up, she was still wary, but he spoke again.
"You don't need to be Allison anymore, and if you aren't ready, you don't need to be Kensi yet. Maybe Fern wants some noodles. I think Fern might be hungry. How about I pick Fern up at five and we see what happens."
"Yeah, ok," she said, giving him the answer he almost hadn't dared to hope for.
She broke the embrace and reached down to pick up the blanket.
"That blanket looks familiar," he said, trying to place it.
"It should. I lifted it from your truck."
He laughed as they walked back to his ride and he threw his board in the back. "Touché," he joked. He opened the door on the passenger side and hoped she would just slide in, but she hesitated. "If you let me drop you off somewhere I'll know where to pick Fern up later," he reasoned.
She did a thing with her face and he hoped it was not her finding a quick response to his clear use of Deeks logic. She took one step towards the seat and stopped again.
"I promise I won't bite."
Then her face unscrunched and he almost saw a smile. "My apartment is fine," she told him. "And thank you." He closed the door and tried to control his expression as he walked around the car to the driver's side. It was just another day driving his partner somewhere. Yeah, right. He was beaming inside – that she was safe, that she was here, that she sought him out, that she was letting him take her home, that she was actually going to her own home, and that she agreed to plans to see him.
The day had gone from bleak to hopeful in a little more than an hour.
