Megan asked which of my stories I enjoyed writing the most: the K/D universe, or the trilogy that's currently at Hang Onto Yourself.
I hope you dno't think this is a cop-out, but it really does depend on which one I'm working on! Each story has a whole lot of history/backstory - call it what you will (SunnyCitrus calls them my epics!) and it's quite challenging to keep all the threads in place. Which is why i also love to do one-shots, or shorter pieces like Let's Dance.
I guess the simple answer is that I just love writing, especially about Kensi and Deeks. All I wish is that Shane Brennan would let them get together - we all know it has to come - doesn't it? (please do not disillusion me about that. I am a sensitive soul, who has led a sheltered life, as I'm sure you can tell).
The doors of the church were standing wide open, and the bright sun beckoned them forward welcomingly.
"We did it," Kensi said gleefully and looked in amazement at the plain gold band on her ring finger. "We really did it."
"We sure did." Marty bent his head to kiss her again.
"Put her down, Deeks – you've got the rest of your lives for that now." Gibbs patted him on the shoulder in congratulation, and then kissed Kensi. "You take care of each other now, understand?" And if you are even one tenth as happy as Shannon and I were, you will be blessed. He gave them a small, rather fixed smile and drifted away, remembering all those dreams, how infinite a world that seemed to stretch out before you on your wedding day. I thought I had everything, the day we got married – and I was right. Something that perfect could never be repeated – Gibbs knew that, because he'd tried many times to recapture the magic, and each time it had proved only to be a pointless exercise in futility. It seemed that there really was just one person who was really intended for you. But at least he had had those golden years.
After that, it seemed there was a tumult of people pouring out of the church and all wanting to congratulate them, so many that Kensi and Marty almost had to fight their way through a positive hailstorm of confetti, rose petals and rice to the Rolls Royce Silver Cloud that was waiting to take them back to the Malibu house. Just as they got there, Crosby wriggled his way through the sea of legs and presented himself triumphantly.
"I got you this." He delved into his jacket pocket and produced a rather crumpled looking gift bag.
"Mom said I was to give you a dumb horseshoe, but this is miles better."
Kensi smiled and started to put her hand into the bag, only to remember that this was Crosby and caution was most definitely required. "Why don't you open it, Marty?"
Raising his eyebrows, her brand-new husband took the precautionary measure of opening the bag as wide as possible and scanning the contents carefully, before extracting the gift gingerly.
"Isn't it cool?" Crosby said happily. "It's a rabbit's foot keyring. For good luck."
"I can safely say that's the most unusual gift we've got," Marty assured him.
"I wanted to get you something you'd always remember. And be useful too. My Dad says you're always getting hurt." Crosby grabbed his hand. "I don't want you to get hurt, Marty. So you keep it with you, okay? And that way you'll be alright."
"I'll do that, buddy."
"I would have got you one too, Kensi, only I didn't have enough money," Crosby said with the subtle, insouciant brutality of an eight year-old.
"I'll share Marty's," Kensi assured him. "I'm sure the luck will rub off on me." She was struggling to keep a straight face and was rather relived when he wriggled his way back through the crowd. "Sam is going to be so mortified when he finds out about this."
"Not as mortified as me. Or that poor rabbit." Marty stared at the disembodied foot with considerable perplexity. "Do I really have to use this?"
"You do," Kensi assured him. "Mainly because Crosby is going to check up every time he sees you. And because it was really sweet of him to spend his own money on such a thoughtful present. I just wish I'd thought about it earlier." If she'd thought there was a single ounce of truth in the superstition, Kensi would make Marty wear the furry foot around his neck.
"How can it be lucky? It wasn't lucky for the rabbit, was it?"
"Don't split hares."
"Was that a pun?"
"Probably."
The driver was opening the door, and Kensi stepped into the car, lifting up her dress elegantly as their family and friends drew close once again, throwing more handfuls of confetti until the door was finally closed and they were driving off.
"Happy?" Marty turned and gave one final wave, spotting Jack right at the front of the crowd, one arm around Rowena, the other raised in salute.
Kensi beamed radiantly. "Oh yes. Very, very happy." She leant back with a sigh. "I feel like I'm in a dream." So far, everything about the day had been perfect, even better than she ever dared hope.
"You look like a dream. You look so incredibly beautiful." The way the soft oyster silk of the dress accentuated the tawny glow of her skin, and her eyes flashed dark and lovely beneath the coronal of white flowers assured Marty that he really was the luckiest man alive.
Her hand slipped into his. "You don't look so bad yourself. Quite distinguished, in fact. I do love you in a suit."
"Only in a suit?"
"In a suit, out of a suit. I just love you, Marty Deeks."
"And I love you too, Kensi Deeks."
The driver took a look in the rear-view mirror and smiled. Just like every newly married couple he'd ever driven, they were now kissing and totally impervious to anything else. It was really rather touching, if only it wasn't for all that danged confetti all over the place. That was going to be real bugger to clean up.
"Ladies and gentlemen: I have the great pleasure of introducing my son and his beautiful wife – Mr and Mrs Martin Deeks!"
The French doors opened and Marty and Kensi came out to a round of applause. Waiters moved among the guests, dispensing champagne and the terrace was thronged with people. In the distance, Marty could see Crosby and Bobby romping happily on the grass. Crosby had discarded his jacket and Bobby appeared to have found some dubious substance to roll in, given the muddy hue of his formerly sparkling white coat. No doubt Crosby would be in a similarly dishevelled state soon. Still, that wasn't his problem.
"Well, how does it feel?" Nico asked. "Do you feel any different now you're married?" She bent as far forward as her belly would allow and kissed Kensi.
"It feels wonderful. And just right, somehow. Like I'm complete."
"You're the one Mikey was waiting for, all these years. And you're very nearly good enough for him." To her amazement, Kensi saw that Nico's eyes were full of tears. "Sorry, I'm just a mass of hormones at the moment. I could hardly see the organ keyboard this afternoon, let alone the music."
"You played brilliantly," Marty said. "I've never heard you play better."
"Given that the height of your musical achievement was "The Merry Peasant", that's not exactly saying much."
"The piano teacher said I played with great gusto. Those were here exact words."
"It wasn't a compliment, honey."
"So I don't know much about music? But I do know when you're playing from the heart, Nico." It was difficult to embrace a heavily pregnant lady, but he managed it somehow. "Is it my imagination, or have you shrunk?" Her head barely came up to his shoulder.
"My feet were killing me. I left my shoes underneath that white hydrangea over there." Nico gestured carelessly. "I swear, this baby is going to be an only child."
Callen appeared behind her. "You say that now, but just wait…"
Nico stepped strategically backwards, and he was very glad that she was not wearing her shoes, because the pain induced by a bare foot was quite bad enough, thank you very much, without adding a high heel into the equation.
"This baby is definitely going to be our first and our last," she declared forcefully. "And you can go make an appointment at the doctor's to make darn sure of that."
Feeling it was time for a strategic withdrawal, Callen nodded to his team mates, and led her away, trying to pretend he wasn't blushing violently.
"Callen's hen-pecked already – and he's not even married." Sam shook his head in mock desperation. "You look a lot better now, Deeks. Marriage obviously agrees with you. I thought you were going to pass out earlier on."
"I wasn't that nervous."
"He was," Sam informed Kensi. "He definitely was."
"Your son gave me a great present." Marty produced the lucky rabbit foot, and Denise looked as if she wished the floor would open and swallow her up.
"I told him to get you a lucky horseshoe!" she wailed.
"I think it's cute." Kensi looked longingly at baby Callie. "Will she come to me, do you think?"
"You know she will." Denise handed over her daughter, and Kensi's heart felt very full as she settled her comfortably.
Callie had to be the most placid, contented baby in the whole world and she lay happily in Kensi's arms, looking up at her with huge eyes the exact colour of dark chocolate and blowing small bubbles.
"One day," Marty whispered and kissed the top of Kensi's head, a feat that was none too easy, given the crown of flowers. "I promise you: one day." He put his arm around her waist and saw the answering smile in her eyes that told him the time for mourning was past and that they could move onto the next stage: that this evening would be a time to dance and to rejoice. There was a season, a time and a purpose for everything under heaven and this was their time.
"Can I keep her – just for a little while?" Kensi's free hand stroked the soft curls clustered on the baby's head and the solitaire diamond flashed brilliantly as it caught the sunlight.
"I think we could manage to enjoy the freedom." Sam and Denise watched as the other couple moved away to talk to their other guests.
"They're going to be fine," Denise said confidently.
Sam didn't say anything. Callen had told him that Kensi and Deeks had agreed to undergo genetic testing to see if there was any underlying reason for the miscarriage, and he wondered if the lack of news in that direction was a bad sign. Of course, they might just be keeping it to themselves, or more tests might be necessary, but he was worried, mainly because he understood only too well how something like that could tear at the very fibre of your being. Life without either Callie or Crosby was simply unthinkable.
"Crosby!" Denise's voice was full of horror. "What have you done?"
Jerked back to reality with a vengeance, Sam looked at his son in disbelief, who was now dripping wet.
"Bobby fell in the pool," Crosby said, as if that was blindingly obvious. Sure enough, in the distance, the dog was shaking himself with great gusto.
"Exactly which part of 'behave yourself' didn't you understand?" his father asked despairingly. "Your Mom brought a change of clothes for the baby, but we thought you were old enough to be trusted. It looks like we were wrong, doesn't it?"
"I saved Bobby!" Crosby protested, but neither parent was listening, because they were too busy being mad. He was a hero and they didn't even care.
"You're going to have to take him home, Sam. He can't stay in wet clothes." Denise looked at Crosby and wondered why she had ever decided he was too old for his reins. Or maybe she should just put a collar and lead around his neck next time?
"Don't be silly. I'll look after him." Nell swam into vision, looking like a fairy godmother, Crosby though, in her wide-skirted dress. If he believed in such things, which he didn't. That was just all mushy and the sort of things that girls liked. And he didn't like girls. He didn't even particularly like his mother right now. But Nell was nice.
"How?" The last time Crosby had got into a pickle at Deeks' house, he'd ended up wearing a t-shirt, that looked more like a dress on him. Denise really didn't think that was going to be suitable today.
"Simple – we'll go in the house, throw Crosby under the shower and his clothes in the dryer. Give me half an hour and I'll have him back here as good as new." Nell didn't really have any great incentive to hang around talking idly to people and be reminded that she didn't have anyone special in her life. There was nothing like a wedding to make you feel lonely.
As it turned out, that was a great move on her part, because while she was waiting for the dryer to complete its cycle, this cute waiter came past. It turned out he was a student at Pepperdine, studying psychology, and even better than that, he was cute – really cute. And he was single.
By the time Crosby pattered back into the laundry room, full of tales about the really huge bath Marty had and how it was almost big enough to go swimming in, it was to discover Nell and some strange guy drinking champagne and very really stupid – giggling and with these strange looks on their faces, like Callie, just before she was about to throw up. He didn't understand grown ups at all and he never would. Crosby had no intention of every growing up and thought he would stay eight for ever and ever.
"Are my pants dry, cos I'm naked here?" he announced in stentorian tones and had the considerable satisfaction of watching them jump apart like a pair of scalded cats.
Coming up next: the first dance and then Kensi and Deeks have a surprise for their guests. And then - the mayhem starts. Because things have been awfully peaceful for a long time, haven't they?