Probably after this, I will lose every follow and favorite that I earned, but have faith. Enjoy!

- "Why don't you have a seat and I'll make coffee?"

- "Sure," she smiled and made herself comfortable. Soon he was back with two cups of the hot beverage.

- "Full of sugar. I hope you still like it like this."

- "Thanks."

- "So…"

- "So?"

- "Long time no see."

- "Yeah…"

- "Are you ok?"

- "Yeah."

- "I think I can hear a but there."

- "No, no buts. Just thinking the last time I was here."

- "Oh…" her answer left him speechless. She was different. Peaceful and even more beautiful. She seemed calm. In peace. Maybe she found someone. Someone that was making her happy. Someone that was treating her like she deserved to be treated. Maybe she was content and happy. Probably she found the one. She moved on. But so does him. He was supposed to have someone, too. But why seeing her again, felt like nothing had changed since then? Why seeing her again made him lose his train of thoughts? Lose his words? Why on earth seeing her in his house was more than he could take? He knew if she stayed a while longer, he wouldn't be able to control his actions. He was going to kiss her or something worse. Why on earth couldn't she leave him alone? His thoughts were interrupted when he felt her leaving his side on the couch and approaching the bookcase of his small living room, where some photos decorated an empty self.

- "Is this the photo?" she asked confused.

- "Yeah, that's the one," he replied as he realized that she was holding an old photo of them which was now picturing only him.

- "You cut it?"

- "Um…Yeah."

- "You couldn't bear seeing me?" she asked a little disappointed.

- "No no. that's not it. I can explain."

- "You don't need to," she cut him off.

- "But…"

- "No its ok. I get it." She then grabbed another photo. "And who is this? My replacement?"

- "This is Natasha."

- "You were always into blondes with blue eyes."

- "She is Russian." He actually wanted to scream that only one brunette was his type but that wouldn't be fair.

- "You two will make beautiful babies."

- "Well…" he didn't know what to say again. Mostly because he didn't want children anymore. He didn't really want children with Natasha. He wasn't father material. He only pictured himself as a dad once. In the past. And it was not with a blonde. Nevertheless her words stung his heart.

- "And what is this? All these boxes? I like boxes." she said approaching the small table, full of boxes.

- "Nothing," he managed to tell, but it was too late. She had already opened one of them and found what she shouldn't have.

- "Is this...?" she couldn't form a word.

- "Yeah." She wasn't supposed to find that one. How could he forget hoe curious Kensi could become?

- "A wedding dress? Is it yours?" she managed to say.

- "No, no it's not mine," he smiled. "It's Natasha's."

- "Oh really? I couldn't guess," she answered sarcastically.

- "You haven't lost your humor," he said trying to lighten up. He couldn't see her face. Her back was on him, but he could tell she wasn't ok with it. And for some strange reason he liked that she probably still had feelings door him.

- "Are you getting married?" she asked between tears. She was glad he couldn't see her due to her position.

- "Well…"

- "You are, aren't you?"

- "Natasha will be able to get a green card, if we get married."

- "What a good Samaritan," she said with venom in her voice.

- "Kens, don't be like this."

- "Don't call me that," she said strictly. Gladly the doorbell rang to cut their conversation in the middle.

- "Package for Mrs. Deeks?"

- "Not yet," he said more to himself.

- "Excuse me, sir?"

- "Nothing. I'll take it."

- "Sign here, please."

- "Thank you," he said and closed the door behind him. "I am sorry…" he started saying, but couldn't find his company anywhere in sight. "Kensi?" he should have expected it. She was gone. He screwed up again. And now he wasn't sure if he could see her again. And that hurt more than anything today.

It was hours later that his fiancée came back from work. Well was she his fiancée? He didn't propose. She did. He didn't buy her a ring, but she was ok with it. She was beautiful and caring and under other circumstances the perfect woman, but at that moment, he found himself dreaming of hazel mismatched eyes, dark olive skin and brown curls.

- "Marty honey, I am home," she almost sang.

- "In the bedroom."

- "Hey," she approached and pecked him on the lips.

- "Hey."

- "This place is a mess. What have you done?"

- "Packages arrived. Again."

- "Must be wedding stuff," she squealed.

- "Yeah."

- "Are you ok?"

- "I'm fine," he said knowing that she wasn't the one to recognize the lie in that phrase.

- "Ok. I am going to make dinner. Get up."

They passed their night watching an old movie on TV, when she started worrying by his silent treatment. Usually he was talkative. Almost in an annoying way.

- "What's wrong, honey?"

- "What?" he said shaking his head as if he wanted to get rid of his thoughts.

- "You are far away. What's wrong?"

- "Bad case."

- "That's all?"

- "Kensi came today," he finally said.

- "What?"

- "Kensi was here today."

- "When?"

- "After work."

- "And?"

- "And what Natasha?"

- "And what happened?"

- "Nothing happened. What did you expect?"

- "I don't know. I just…"

- "What is it?"

- "You are not gonna leave me now are you?"

- "Where did that come from?" he asked. Immediately feeling guilty for thinking his ex partner the whole day.

- "I don't know. I thought that now that she is back you would want to cancel the wedding."

- "Why would I want that?"

- "You don't?"

- "No Natasha I don't," he smiled not so convincingly and kissed her. "Come on. Let's go to bed. I had a long day."