She vacates her seat on the couch, turning to leave the room. His fingers wrap around her wrist. He interrupts her escape in a soft tone.
"Whoa! Where are you going?"
"I'm going to take a shower," she answers him.
He scrutinizes her facial expression, as she stands across from him, avoiding eye contact.
"Kensi what is going on? What aren't you telling me?"
"Deeks, please," she begs.
"Talk to me," he implores.
"I can't," she responds.
"Why not?" He presses.
"I'm not ready," she answers simply.
He nods in understanding, "Okay," and he lets her walk away.
She tosses, and turns that night, and she can't sleep. In fear that she is going to wake her bed partner she vacates the bed, and heads down the stairs. She crawls onto the couch. She's just gotten comfortable when her phone starts to vibrate on the coffee table. She stretches her arm out, and swipes the phone off the table. She presses the mobile device to her ear.
"Hello," she answers sleepily. She hears breathing, but the party on the other end doesn't respond. "Hello? Is anyone there?" The phone line suddenly goes dead. She returns the phone to its resting place, and chalks it up to a prank call. She situates herself on the couch once again. Sleep is fleeting. She dozes off for little more than an hour. She gets up, and pulls on some clothes. She laces up her sneakers, and exits the house.
She secures her earbuds into her ears, and begins down the pavement. The soles of her tennis shoes pound against the sidewalk. Her heart beat increases, but her pace doesn't change. Sweat begins to bead on her forehead, but it doesn't deter her. She listens to the random assortment of songs as she runs. The music drowns out her thoughts, until on sneaks past. Always running, she chides herself. She shakes the thought from her head, and turns a street corner.
When she returns home Deeks is still not awake. She showers, and gets dressed for the day. She climbs into the car, and pulls away from the house. She feels as if she is driving aimlessly, but as she rounds a street corner she realizes that she's not. She parks against the curb, but she can't find the courage to get out of the car. She just stares at the grey house to her right. The front porch light is on, and a light inside the house is on. She exhales, and reaches for her keys, with every intention of driving away. Before she can manage to turn the engine over knuckles wrap against her window. She turns to her left, and finds a familiar face staring at her. She unlocks the door, and he walks around the front of her car. He climbs into the passenger's seat. She looks over at the familiar face, who is clad in his running gear. Her mouth suddenly feels dry, and her heart rate increases.
He breaks the silence, "Is this where you tell me you were just in the neighborhood? He glances at his watch, at five thirty on a Saturday morning?"
"I only live about ten minutes away," she admits. She studies him closely. He looks older than she remembers, but little else has changed. His sandy color hair shows a few strands of grey around the temples. His hair is cropped close to his scalp, and he is cleanly shaven. He wears a t-shirt, and a pair of athletic shorts. His t-shirt is sweat stained. He stares back at her with bright blue eyes.
He looks over at her, and grins, "I was surprised to see you yesterday," he admits.
"I am so sorry about Kevin," she offers condolences.
"I have always wondered about you," he reveals.
"You're not the only one," she replies.
"I would imagine that I'm not. Kensi we have both grown up a lot since we first met. Why didn't you call?"
She shrugs, "Does it matter?"
"I know that you have the resources to find whoever you want to."
"I do," she nods.
"So why didn't you?"
She exhales, "I thought that it was better this way."
"Better for who? You just disappeared into thin air."
She shakes her head, "Trust me, it was better."
"You don't know that."
"I don't really know what to say," she admits.
"Time marches on, but what you leave behind doesn't stay where you left it."
"Shouldn't you get inside? Won't your family miss you?"
"The kids are fine, they know I am out for a run. My daughter prefers that I stay out of the house in the early morning hours."
"Why?"
"She's nine, and if I'm around when she gets up she has to eat oatmeal for breakfast."
"And if you're not?"
"Her brother will make chocolate chip pancakes. He can't make them when I am around, or I will locate his chocolate chip hiding place, and put a kibosh on the entire operation."
"You don't permit them to eat chocolate chips?"
He cocks an eyebrow, "Not for breakfast. I am a single dad, but that doesn't mean that my house is lawless. They don't run the place."
"Sounds like Alcatraz."
"Hardly," he assures her.
"Where is…"
"I got married about fifteen years ago. I had just left the Marine Corp, and Emily was getting ready to ship out. Our daughter, Mariah is nine. We both gave up the lifestyle, but in the end it didn't really matter. Two years ago Emily was coming home from work, and she got t-boned in an intersection."
"I am so sorry, I didn't know."
"It's okay. What about you, Miss Federal Agent?"
She shrugs, "Nothing too exciting."
"Married?"
"I should get home," she retreats.
"Come inside," he tells her.
She furrows her brow, trying to read his facial expression. She breaks eye contact. "I don't think that's a good idea."
"You disappeared into thin air all of those years ago, and I never thought that I would ever see you again. I was in the middle of some dusty, bleak corner of the world when I got word that my brother had seen you, and that you were okay. Before I could get home you were gone again. You disappeared, and I had absolutely no idea where you went."
"It doesn't matter."
"We were just kids then. If you think that I hold it against you, I don't. I never have. You know that, right?"