A/n It's been awhile. A long while. But I think this is it. Thank you guys, so, so much.
- Cierra

She's standing in the kitchen when she feels a sharp pain in her lower abdomen. The stack of plates she's holding clatters to the ground and brakes, and she says, "Oh, shit."

Deeks, having heard the commotion, runs into the kitchen. "Kensi?" he asks, immediately running to her side.

"I think it's happening," Kensi says, breathless. She laughs. "Oh my God, it's happening."

"Now? But I made quesadillas."

She's about to laugh at his response which was genuine and obviously the result of shock but instead yells out when another pain hits. "Ahh-"

"Ahh! Oh, shit." Deeks bends next to her, hand on her waist. Again, she would laugh because his response is identical to hers, but she finds herself doubled over with pain instead.

"Go... bag..." she huffs out before trying to straighten herself and stepping on the shards of glass behind her by accident. "Owww."

"You're bleeding," Deeks says, looking at her foot like he's never seen blood before in his life.

"We need... we need the bag."

"The bag. Right. I can do that. Get the bag. The bag. Where's the bag?"

"Baby's room."

"Baby's room. Baby. We're having a baby."

"Right now," Kensi reminds him, hobbling to the medicine cabinet to get something to wrap around her foot.

"Right now. Oh my God, we're having a baby right now. This is happening. Okay." He sprints down the hallway then, but not before kissing her on the cheek. She smiles.

He's sitting at the table, pensive and somber. Of course, they've both been a more subdued version of themselves since Iris took Gracie and JT away. All she can seem to think about is how much she misses the smell of baby powder and the feeling of soft skin against her collarbone.

She really hates seeing him this way, especially for extended periods of time. It's been a week and a half since Gracie and JT have been taken away, and she feels their absence in the silence that's supposed to be filled with the sound of tiny feet padding their way across linoleum. She crosses over to where Deeks is sitting and strokes his hair, and he wraps his arms around her waist, laying his head against her rib cage.

She lets him hold her, kissing his head and saying quietly, "I miss them too."

Deeks has calmed considerably since they arrived at the hospital, and he lets her squeeze his hand until his fingers turn blue. The doctors had broken her water upon arrival, and since then the labor's been going pretty quickly. Their baby, their child, will be here any moment. Kensi doesn't think she's ever been so scared in her life.

"I can't do this," she tells Deeks about two hours in to the labor. She's not talking about the actual process of giving birth, and they both know it. The tears in her eyes are only partially due to the pain of the contractions. Her mind is spinning with everything that can go wrong, everything she has the potential to do wrong, everything she doesn't know about motherhood. She's terrified by the love she already feels for her child, and the overwhelming instinct she has to protect her baby. She wonders if she'll be enough.

"We're in this together. You were great with JT and Grace."

She shakes her head no, and Deeks covers the hand he's holding with his other hand. "Kensi, listen to me. You're going to be great." He looks into her eyes, which are full of uncertainty and overwhelming love. "You already are."

She remembers the promise she made to him on a day when the absence of Gracie and JT is extremely evident. "Give me a month," she said what felt like forever ago. It's been nearly two months since that conversation took place.

She wants a baby. She knows that now. But is she worthy of one? Would it be selfish for her to have a baby simply because of her desire to be a mother? Can she do it for Deeks?

The only question she knows the answer to is the last one, because she's never been able to deny him anything. She knows that he's going to get his baby and she's the one who's going to give it to him. Because she loves him.

It's New Year's Eve when she wraps her arms around him and tells him that she's ready. Ready for a baby? Not exactly. She doubts that she ever will be. Ready to start trying? Absolutely.

"Don't we need to talk about this?" Deeks asks her. She's pressed against the front door because she couldn't wait any longer to tell him for fear of changing her mind, so as soon as the door closed behind her she kissed him.

She shrugs. "I love you," she offers.

He nods. He smiles. "Okay."

Later, when they're about to drift off to sleep in a tangle of limbs and sheets, he lowers his head to her abdomen and kisses it, smiling against the bare skin. "We could've just made a baby."

She's afraid if she responds her voice will give away how terrified she is by the prospect of what he said, so she stays silent, working her hand through his hair and letting him kiss his way up, eventually following asleep next to her chest. She didn't get much sleep that night.

After that night, she didn't know about trying again, so she started taking her birth control. But it turns out it didn't matter, proven by a pregnancy test taken a little over a month later.

When she sees it's positive she bursts into tears. Scared, apprehensive tears, but she can't deny the excitement she feels, and yes, the happiness. So when she wipes away her tears and calls for Deeks, the joy on her face isn't faux, but she does force away the uncertainty from her expression for his sake.

"Positive," she says, and he starts laughing. He pulls her into his arms, kisses her cheeks, neck, jaw. He tells her he loves her over and over. And he thanks her.

"Thank you, Kens," he tells her, watching as she's handed their son. He kisses her and grins. "You did it. I love you."

The labor only lasted four hours, but it had definitely been long enough. There weren't complications, no reasons to add to her turmoil, nothing. Right on time, too. A good baby, the doctor said to them.

A perfect baby, she thinks. She can't help the tears that stream down her face as she looks at her little boy. Hers and Deeks's son. She can't believe it. She's trembling, holding a screaming, squirming, incredible little boy. She's never felt such love at once, so many emotions all at the same time, so much relief after the months of being pregnant and the labor itself. It's overwhelming.

"Deeks," she says, mostly because it's the only thing that comes to mind and probably the only thing she's physically able to say.

He kisses her forehead, touches his boy's cheek. Everything that he could ever ask for, everything he loves, everything he lives for, everything, right there. "A boy." They waited to learn the gender, but he knows she secretly hoped for a boy, and though he was just happy that she finally agreed to try for a baby, he always saw himself having a boy first.

She cries, smiling, and nods. "A boy," she says, repeating his words. Reluctantly she allows the nurses to take the baby away to be cleaned off, weighed, etcetera. When she's without him for the first time in nine months, she cries.

"Kensi," Deeks says, leaning next to her, grabbing her hand. "What's the matter?"

"I'm just happy," she tells him through the tears, but she knows that Deeks knows that she's holding something back from him. "I don't know what to do," she admits to him, and she swipes at her tears. "I thought it would come to me. But I'm not going to be a good mom." She knew it when she was handed her baby. She knew she would never be worth her son.

"You know what to do. You knew what to do with JT, and you'll know what to do now," Deeks promises, sounding confused, needing her to believe what he's telling her.

Her tears keep falling, one after the other. "No, this is different. This is- this is my son, Deeks. Our son. And I don't know- I don't know anything."

"What don't you know? You know how to change a diaper. You know how to feed him. And you can't tell me you don't know how to love him. He's lucky to have you for a mother. Just as lucky as we are to have him."

She's handed their son, now swallowed with blankets, and she holds him cautiously, terrified by how small he is. "One day, he's going to be bigger than you are," Deeks tells her, obviously as amazed by the size of the baby as she is. He kisses her shoulder.

"Are we going with Jesse?" Deeks asks. The baby stopped crying, and now he balls his fist against Kensi's collarbone. "What do you think about Jesse, little guy?"

He waves his fingers against Kensi, and Deeks grins. "I think he likes it."

"Jesse," Kensi says, laying her hand over his hospital-provided hat. "Jesse Martin Deeks."

"Kensi..."

Kensi shakes her head, obviously not about to listen to anything Deeks may say. "It's either Jesse Martin or Marty Junior."

"All right, Jess. I guess you're stuck with your old man's name, then."

"Now you have a little Marty," Kensi says, and she feels good, knowing that she was able to give Deeks what he wanted more than anything.

"So do you," Deeks reminds her. "Think you can handle two of us?"

"I hope so," Kensi says, and she means it. Now she has two people to protect, to put before herself, to love, to provide for. She figures she'll be okay with the latter three, but she doesn't know what she'll do with herself if she's the reason Jesse loses his dad, or that her failure to keep her son safe results in something unimaginable. She knows then that she can't lose them. "I don't think I can go back to work," Kensi admits.

"What? Kens, you love your work. You can't... you don't have to... you shouldn't give it up," Deeks says. Losing his partner is the last thing he wants to think about right now, or ever, for that matter. He's the one that pushed her to have a baby. He doesn't want her to sacrifice her work for him, for them.

"I can't put you in danger. I can't have anymore people who want to destroy who I am, what I love. The list's already too long."

"We're the best together, though. Partners." He doesn't want her to lose her job, but more than that, he doesn't want to lose his partner.

"We can talk about it later," Kensi says, attention directed at Jesse. "I think he's hungry."

"You hungry?" Deeks asks, touching her shoulder as he moves behind her.

She turns at his touch and grins. He's always thought of her as graceful, but in a hard, unique kind of way. Pregnancy seems to have softened her; her moves are fluent and careful, smile easy and gentle. "I'm not, but the baby is."

"Does the baby want Chinese or burgers?"

"I think tacos."

"Or, you know, tacos. It's not like we've had them every night for the past week or anything."

"What can I say? The kid likes his tacos."

"Or hers."

"Or hers," Kensi agrees, rubbing her tummy. "I just have a feeling."

"Mother's intuition?"

"I guess so," Kensi says, smiling. He knows he's staring at her, but she's so beautiful, and he's so lucky, and he can't help himself.

He kisses her and tells her he loves her. Then he kisses her belly. "And you, buddy."

"Is buddy considered unisex?"

Deeks shrugs. "Jesse's kind of unisex. We could call Peanut Jesse, since Kathleen isn't exactly masculine."

"No, because then if Jesse's a Kathleen then I'll be used to calling her Jesse."

"So Peanut's Peanut?" Kensi nods, and Deeks pouts a little. "I don't understand why we have to wait to find out the gender. We could start buying tutus for Kathleen or jerseys for Jesse."

"Why can't we buy jerseys for Kathleen and tutus for Jesse?" Kensi jokes, eyebrows raised.

"Come on, Kens! I need to know."

"Which would you prefer, boy or girl?"

"Just as long as their are two sets of five fingers and two sets of five toes. Preferably located on its hands and feet."

"That's not an answer," Kensi says.

"Seriously, I'm indifferent. I'll be head over heals either way." He chuckles, and she crosses her arms on top of her bump.

"What?"

"I don't even have to ask what you want."

"I don't care either way," Kensi says, but she's always been a horrible liar.

"Sure."

"No, really. Kappy or Jess, I don't care."

"But if it's Kappy, we're definitely trying for a Jesse."

"Well, I'd figure you'd want to try again, regardless."

"What are you, a Duggar? Haven't even squeezed the first one out and you're talking about the second."

"Shut up," Kensi tells him, but she can't seem to stop smiling. As if knowing that the conversation's about him/her, her belly flutters as she feels the baby press it's foot against her. "Baby's kicking," Kensi says. "It already likes being the center of attention. Like father, like son."

"Like mother, like daughter."

"Touché."

"He won't stop crying," Kensi says, looking like she's on the verge of a breakdown. "Is something wrong? I can't tell- I'm supposed to be able to tell-"

"He's fine," Deeks assures her, holding out his arms for the two week old. They're still adjusting to the new member of their family, slowly but surely. The nights are rough but manageable, the baby joy overwhelming and the emotions still high. But Deeks knows Kensi's worrying herself to death, wondering if she's doing everything okay and if her mother's intuition is in check. "Look," Deeks says, patting their little guy's back, "Just tired, like we are. Except he doesn't know what to do with himself when he's tired. Pretty soon he'll figure it out."

"I'm tired," Kensi says. Physically, yes. But also emotionally. Mentally. She needs to rest, which makes her feel like an even worse mom. It's only been two weeks and she needs a break.

The last thought makes tears sting the back of her eyes when she looks at her son. Deeks looks worried, but before he can say anything Kensi's tucked under one of his arms, Jesse cradled carefully next to her in his other arm, against his chest. She sees her son's tiny toes, wrinkled feet, chubby legs. She hears Deeks breathe against her, and he runs his hand over her hair. "You're doing great," Deeks promises her. "You're a good mom, Kensi."

"I need to sleep."

"As do most human beings when they have an infant that cries every hour on the hour." He kisses her forehead, before telling her to go lay down.

"Jesse-"

"- Is fast asleep, and will be for at least a few hours judging by how long he cried. And when he wakes up, I'll be right here to take care of him. Rest, Kensi."

"I love you," she tells him, pressing her lips against his briefly. "I'm sorry-"

He kisses her back, effectively interrupting her. "You've got nothing to apologize for."

Her throat's tight, and it's suddenly hard to swallow. She nods before touching one of Jesse's small fists and retreats to her bed. She sleeps until the sun comes up the next day.

"I still miss them," Kensi tells him one night, her belly large and shining with cocoa butter under her hand.

"So do I," Deeks admits, turning off his tablet and cuddling next to her. "I guess I thought when we'd made one of our own we'd stop missing them, eventually."

"Maybe it'll change when Peanut's born."

"If it doesn't?"

Kensi shrugs. It's hard to believe she may never hear how JT and Grace are, see pictures of how they've grown, learn how they've adjusted to yet another life. "Gracie was a cutie."

"She was the cutest."

"And JT was an angel."

"Best snuggler in the world."

"I worry about them a lot." It's the first time she voices it aloud, but it really goes without saying. She knows Deeks does the same.

"Iris is taking care of them."

She knows he can't be certain, but she nods anyway. Sometimes it's best to pretend. To pretend and to hope.

This is the happiest Kensi's ever been in her life, she's sure of it.

The sky is cloudless, the sun's hot, and her lemonade's cold. Her son has dirt smeared on his cheeks, and his hair's bleached nearly white from the sun. Her husband is letting Jesse spray him with the water hose, and he's almost as dirty as the fourteen month old. "Ma," the little boy says, toddling his way over to wear she sits. "'ock."

She doesn't know if he's trying to say "ick" in relation to the dirt on what he holds or "rock" in relation to what's being covered by the dirt, but either way it's cute coming from his mouth. "It's dirty," Kensi observes.

"'Ock," he repeats, offering it to her.

"Come here, buddy. Let me see that awesome -" she glances at Deeks, grinning, "- rock." Jesse climbs into her lap, holding it up for her to see. Then he promptly tries to devour it.

Three months ago, she probably would've freaked out. Choking hazards, and all. But after she learned that Jesse's going to be a big brother, she discovered that the only way to survive parenthood is by chilling the hell out.

Two babies. And she's not even scared. She's overjoyed. Because Jesse is everything she ever wanted, and she's sure his little brother/sister will be the same.

So she calmly explains to Jesse that rocks don't taste good by calling it "yuck yuck" before removing the stone from his tiny hand. He's already forgotten about it, sliding off of her lap and tumbling after his dad again, gooing and gahing all the way.

Pregnancy hormones are driving her crazy. Because seeing Deeks running through the yard with their baby, their blonde curls catching the sun, shouldn't make her tear up, but it does. Partially because she never thought her and her partner would end up here, with a backyard and babies, and partially because she has a little slice of paradise that she never thought she deserved.

She doesn't even really miss the field work. Well, she does, but not anywhere near as much as she thought she would. She didn't quit NCIS; Hetty wasn't having any of it, telling her that she understood where Kensi was coming from, but insisting that she would do everything in her power to make her job work for her. And Hetty delivered, that is, for the half a year Kensi was back at work before she realized she's pregnant again.

She hates sitting around doing paperwork, but not because she'd rather be in the field getting blown up and shot at. She hates it because it's boring and because she misses her partner, but she trusts Deeks to take care of himself and come back to her and Jesse and Peanut #2 every day.

Losing her dad, Jack, and her old partner Dom that she'd been learning to love, living on the streets during her teenage years, all of the hell her and Deeks put each other through to get to where they are now - she wouldn't change any of it. Because it made her who she is, and she ended up with everything she could ever ask for, everything she could ever want.

"You good, babe?" Deeks asks as he comes up to her, balancing a hyped up Jesse in one arm.

"Perfect," she answers honestly, grinning as he leans over to press a kiss against her lips.

"Hey, did you order anything?" Deeks asks, peering through the screen door.

She shakes her head no, readjusting in her seat to see a FedEx truck pulling away. "What do you think it is?" she asks as Deeks transitions Jesse to her arms.

"Guess we're about to find out," he says, trailing to the front door and finding an envelope waiting for them. He brings it into the kitchen, and Kensi sits Jesse on the counter, letting his chubby legs dangle.

"Pictures," Kensi says, watching as Deeks spreads them out for her to see. Again, she blames the hormones when she tears up. JT, now two, has the biggest brown eyes she's ever seen, and thick brown hair that sticks straight up. Gracie's hair's cut into an adorable bob, and her legs are just slightly too long for her body, obviously in the middle of a growth spurt. There's a note attached, letting them know that the kids are happy and healthy and adjusting well, considering.

Kensi smiles and hangs the pictures up on the refrigerator next to Jesse's scribble-filled art. "It's such a relief, knowing they're okay," she tells Deeks.

"Maybe we can even see them again." He sounds hopeful, and even though there's a lot of risk involved, Kensi thinks they can find a way. After all, risk hasn't stopped her before.

"Yeah, maybe."