Hello everyone! The positive feedback for this story has been overwhelming. Thank you! I haven't committed myself to anything as long as this in a while, and your kind reviews and encouragement, coupled with my absolute love of Densi, has given me more motivation to write than I know what to do with. I'm going to try putting myself on a schedule of updating every Sunday, so keep your eyes peeled for next week's chapter and you have permission to scold me if it's not up then.

I had a question or two regarding the ages of our characters: Deeks and Paul are 24/25, and finishing up law school. Kensi and Monica are 21, in their final year of their undergraduate degrees. Canonically, the year would be 2003, but I've used some creative license to modernize it a little bit.

Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS: Los Angeles

Kensi and Monica arrived to the party early; the house belonged to a friend of Monica's and she'd offered to help set up. After greeting the host, who Kensi knew only by acquaintance, they started to push furniture against the walls and stock the large buckets of ice that had been set out on the back deck. Kensi was checking the connections between the iPod dock and the large speakers that had been placed on the deck when a shadow blocked the small amount of light she was using to see.

"You want me to take a look at that?" A warm male voice said above her. Kensi turned and looked up at the guy standing over her. His dark hair flopped in his eyes and his smile was very white against his tan, clean shaven skin. Kensi couldn't deny that he was attractive, but he had also very obviously been staring at her butt a second before she caught his eye. She straightened up quickly.

"Nope," she said cheerfully," Everything looks good."

"You sure? I mean, those wires can be a little tricky if you don't know what you're doing."

Kensi prickled. She was perfectly aware of what she was doing and this guy's assumption that she was incapable of hooking up a sound system coupled with his very obvious roving eyes grated on her nerves. She smiled at him, ready to give him a pass. She opened her mouth to say that she was sure it was fine, but the guy had already bent down to check the connection himself.

"The AV cord has to be hooked into the dock itself," he said. Kensi put her hands on her hips and waited for him to be done. "You actually get a clearer sound and more bass if you…" He trailed off as he saw that Kensi had rewired the amp to do just that. He turned and looked at her as if seeing her the first time. "How'd you know how to do that?" He asked in amazement, and a little irritated.

Kensi shrugged and crossed her arms over her chest. "It's not that hard."

The guy looked back at Kensi's handiwork and muttered, more to himself than to Kensi, "It took me weeks to figure that out."

Kensi tried to hide her smirk, and she was sure she would have started laughing at the guy's dumbfounded expression if Monica hadn't called her back inside. Kensi walked away, leaving the guy still crouched down by the speaker.

"Who was that?" Monica asked when Kensi met her at the back door of the house. "He's cute!"

Kensi shrugged and said, "Some guy who thought I couldn't hook up the speakers."

Monica smirked at her friend and said, "I'm guessing you showed him up." Kensi smiled, not having to affirm the other girl's assumption. Monica laughed and said, "You always leave them stunned, Blye."

Kensi laughed with her friend. The doorbell rang and music started to pump through the speakers. The host's girlfriend passed by with a tray full of shots, and Monica nabbed two and handed one to Kensi. "To senior year?"

"To senior year," Kensi said and the girls downed their shots. Kensi felt the burn in the back of her throat and the tiny buzz of alcohol as the first drink hit her system. It took a lot more than this to get her drunk, and she wasn't planning on getting drunk tonight, but a buzz never hurt, especially if it made her forget why she hated parties.

Deeks and Paul walked up the front sidewalk of the house. Music blared from every window and door of the two-story house, all of which were thrown wide open. Drunken students roamed up and down the sidewalks and street in varying degrees of inebriation; Greek row was the next street over and since it was the last weekend before classes started, it seemed every undergraduate was out to celebrate.

Paul was fidgeting slightly, flipping his phone between his fingers. He'd met this girl over the summer when she and her friends had come to the surf shop Paul worked at looking for lessons. Paul was enamored, and had told Deeks about their first lesson with him as her teacher a few dozen times. Any normal person would have been irritated at this point with Paul's crush on this girl, but Deeks just smiled at his friend and shook his head. He would have teased any other guy, maybe made a crude joke, but with Paul, Deeks was a different person. For as laid back as Paul was, he was as fragile and sensitive as Deeks was guarded, and teasing him about something as monumental as meeting a girl was to him was bound to hurt the guy.

Deeks couldn't always shelter his best friend, though, and he said what any wingman would have told his friend, "Chill, dude. Don't let her see you sweat."

Paul didn't acknowledge Deeks' words, but he stilled his hands, holding his phone firmly in one fist. The men reached the wide open front door just as a girl staggered out with a hand to her mouth. It was barely midnight, yet she pushed past them and proceeded to vomit in the bushes next to the front stoop. Deeks sighed again in resignation. So it's going to be one of those kinds of parties.

Two drinks held above the heads of partygoers, Kensi sidestepped her way through the throngs of drunken students to reach the back door and the blessedly fresh air. It was a warm night, and her hair was already starting to curl at her temples as a result of the humidity within the house. So much for Monica's products and heat appliances.

As she reached the back porch, Kensi looked around for Monica, but couldn't find her anywhere. A couple guys were screwing with their iPods over by the dock, having designated themselves the DJs for the night. They had figured out a way to mix songs from each iPod to create remixes, and they were actually pretty good.

A couple of girls, obviously underage and inexperienced with alcohol, were attempting to play beer pong, having been coerced into it by the host and his rather disgusting frat buddies. Their whoops and laughter filled up the space, leaving little room for other conversation.

People sat in the small backyard and on the back deck, all with drinks in their hands and some were smoking. Kensi hated the smell of cigarette smoke. It felt unhealthy just to watch the gray haze float through the air, visible against the colored string lights strung around the railings of the deck. Yet, for as much as she hated it, Kensi had never thought she might miss it. Jack had started smoking when he'd been in Afghanistan. He said it kept his nerves in check, and Kensi didn't argue with that, but she still hated that he did it. He never smoked in the house, but the smell still infiltrated all of his clothes, and Kensi had to tamp down on her irritation whenever she kissed him. When he'd left, and Kensi was still raw from grief, she would smell his clothes, desperate to hold on to him, even with a smell that made her want to vomit. She'd since stopped doing that, but the boxes in her closet still smelled faintly of cigarettes, and every time Kensi caught a whiff of it, she had to fight to keep the memories at bay.

Kensi took a deep breath and pushed back the onslaught of emotions. She finally spotted Monica at the bottom of the stairs. She was animatedly in conversation with a guy Kensi recognized from a forensics lab she had taken last semester. Drinks more firmly in hand now that she had room to move, Kensi descended the steps until she was right next to Monica. The other girl took her drink without looking away from the guy she was talking to. The guy, obviously not as involved in the conversation as Monica was, looked over at the new member of their party. He smiled when he saw Kensi, a normal reaction when guys saw her. Kensi found it irritable and little embarrassing. It wasn't her fault she had good genetics and she definitely didn't want to be noticed all the time. It made going about life a little more difficult, especially at the base, where the majority of the people she trained with were men.

"Hey," the guy said, interrupting Monica, much to her annoyance. When she saw Kensi, she rolled her eyes, knowing the effect the other girl had on men, and not begrudging her for it. The guy held out his hand, "I'm Derek."

Kensi shook his hand back briefly, "Kensi."

"We had a lab together, didn't we? Dr. Lipton?"

"I believe we did. I was just coming down to give Monica her drink and now I'm headed back up. It was nice to officially meet you," Kensi told Derek. She smiled at them both and walked away, catching Monica's grateful expression before she turned back to Derek, who was still watching Kensi. Monica picked up her conversation right where she left off and Kensi smiled at her friend's resilience with men, even if they weren't as interested as she was.

Kensi reached the top of the stairs and took a sip of her drink, looking around at the chaos that ensued. The house was full to its max, and the party spilled out into the street. Girls without their shoes clung to each other as they gripped their drinks and staggered in between the houses to Greek row. Some guys were playing beer pong on the hood of a car parked in the street. It was fully past midnight now, and Kensi could see the glow of Los Angeles in the distance against the dark sky. There were no stars visible; it was cloudy and humid, threatening to rain. She was sticky with sweat and spilled alcohol, and as irritating as that should have been, she really didn't care. Why bother if there was no one to impress?

Paul had yet to find his date, and Deeks was starting to feel the slight tinge of irritation at this girl. He hadn't really wanted to come to this party in the first place, but here he was, waiting to be wingman to his best friend who was seemingly being stood up. He held a beer in his hand, the condensation from the ice bucket the only thing cool in the otherwise stifling house.

He'd talked to a few girls, let them put their hands on his arm and giggle at his charm. He'd even danced with one, a blond petite thing named Olivia, who was just shy of drunk, but still aware of herself enough to not grind on him embarrassingly. Deeks had appreciated that. What he hadn't appreciated had been the fact that she was eighteen.

Now, another girl seemed to have spotted him and was headed his way. Determined not to have another clearly-out-of-high-school alcoholic hanging on him, Deeks made his way toward the back door of the house. He slipped in between tightly-packed people, and breathed in deeply when he reached the outside air. He took a swig of his beer and turned to find that his pursuer was nowhere to be found.

Smiling at his own small triumph, Deeks nearly ran into the girl who was leaning against the railing, watching the party that spilled out of the front side of the house. She looked up in surprise and took a step back. "Sorry," Deeks apologized sincerely. "Didn't see you there."

And he was surprised he hadn't. She was tall, only a few inches shorter than him, and lean. She looked like a supermodel, her legs going on for days and long, tapered fingers that wrapped around her cup. Her face was what sold him, though. She was beyond beautiful. Framed by dark curls, the sharp angles of her face threw shadows across her skin from the colored lights that wrapped around the deck. Her dark eyes were in shadow, but they were shaped exotically, the whites highlighted by the deep tan in her skin. Her eyes were guarded and a little surprised. They were strong, and Deeks knew that even if he was able to get her to flirt back, this girl was not one to be trifled with. She was intelligent, something a lot of the girls at this party were not, and she didn't take anybody's shit. He knew instantly that this girl was special, and not one to be passed up.

The girl stared back at him, her eyes becoming even more guarded the longer he looked at her. She started to back away, a look of wariness in her beautiful face.

"It's fine," she said shortly.

Momentarily forgetting why he had apologized, Deeks pulled himself together. He donned his most charming smile. "Sure I can't get you a drink to apologize?"

The girl raised an eyebrow and held up her plastic cup. "Got one already, thanks."

Deeks tamped down on the instinct to flirt outrageously, which usually worked for him. It wouldn't work on this woman, though, he knew.

"I can't get you a good drink? I know I'm sick of warm, flat beer, and it seems to me you've been here longer, so you're probably more fed up than I am. I know a guy who lives here. He's a douche, but he has good liquor, and I know where he keeps it."

"You'd steal a guy's good alcohol?" She asked incredulously. But if Deeks wasn't mistaken, he did see a small glimmer of interest in her eyes.

"I'd say I'm collecting on a favor. I helped him pass Family Psychology," Deeks explained.

He watched her think it over, her brow furrowing as she contemplated the morality of the offer. As no-nonsense as she seemed, Deeks couldn't read her like her could most girls—or people, really. He had yet to figure out if she was a straight arrow or willing to let loose a little.

She proved to be the latter when she shrugged and said, "Sure." She held her hand out as if to say, lead the way, and Deeks did just that.