Hey everyone! Sorry this chapter is a few days late, but midterms are next week and I've been swamped with schoolwork, which, unfortunately, has to come before anything fun like writing. That aside, I'm really excited to start getting into the meat of the story and developing the relationships a bit more, so please enjoy and don't forget to favorite/review!

Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS: Los Angeles

Kensi was indeed late to her first class. Luckily, she knew the professor, and he only gave her a raised eyebrow before continuing his talk about the syllabus.

She had an hour and a half break between her morning classes and her afternoon lab. There were a handful of food trucks that took up residence on campus during lunch time, and Kensi chose one and ordered a chicken wrap. On impulse, she grabbed a chocolate bar at the register and threw that in her bag as well. Her junk-food jones had tripled in the last year, returning in full force now that she didn't have Jack and his regimented military diet to stick to. It's not like she was unhealthy or anything—she trained almost every day—but she did have a bit of a sweet tooth. It was nice not having someone make her feel bad about it, she guessed. Monica's love for sweets was even worse than Kensi's, if that were possible.

Kensi found a picnic table in the shade of a large tree in the middle of the quad. Academic buildings surrounded the area on three sides. The fourth side was bordered by a street similar to the one Kensi and Monica's apartment was on. The school was situated on a cliff looking out over the ocean. Even though it was far too hot to be spending any period of time outside, Kensi enjoyed watching the water while she ate. It wasn't so bad in the shade, though the humidity was increasingly uncomfortable.

When Kensi was finished, she still had a good hour before her lab was due to start. She opened up her backpack and pulled out the application she'd been working on for NCIS training. It wasn't due for about 8 weeks, but Kensi wanted to finish it and send it in as quickly as possible. The quicker it got into the hands of someone important, the quicker she could be accepted. And this wasn't even the actual job; it was just the training course. She would still have to finish that before she even thought about working as an agent.

The application was taking longer to do than she expected, though. Yes, it was a thick packet of information, background checks, and a number of reference forms, but that wasn't the problem. The problem was that Kensi had to hide it away whenever anyone came within reading distance. She didn't know why she was keeping it a secret—she'd made it very obvious she was going into a law enforcement career—but even her surrogate family was unaware. And God forbid Monica find out about it. Kensi shared nearly everything with her best friend, but she was afraid of Monica's reaction to this.

Monica was protective of Kensi, even before everything happened with Jack. She was fiercely protective of her friends in general, but Monica's maternal side came out whenever Kensi needed advice or was searching for her next thrill chase. When Kensi told her that she was taking a defensive driving course—meant to enable her to avoid a collision were she to lose control of the car—Monica flipped, claiming it was reckless and unnecessary. Her practicality balanced out Kensi's impulsiveness. Kensi thought she'd make a great cop, but Monica preferred to stick to Psychology, hoping to become a defense lawyer. She said she preferred to uphold the law without guns and car chases. Kensi was totally fine with that, but it was still why she wouldn't tell her she wanted to be a federal agent.

Kensi was in the process of filling out her family history, struggling to come up with everything she remembered about her mom, when a voice over her shoulder made her jump and cover the page with her arm.

"It's a bit early to be applying for summer jobs, isn't it?"

Kensi looked up and saw that it was none other than Marty Deeks. Instead of being half clad in his wetsuit (Kensi had done her best to studiously ignore this at the beach earlier. It didn't keep her from enjoying it, though), he was wearing shorts and flip flops. His white t-shirt highlighted his deep tan and white grin.

Kensi flipped the packet over and said, "Not a summer job. Just paperwork for graduation."

Deeks sat down across the table from her. "Still a little early though."

"You can never finish too early," Kensi replied cheerfully.

Deeks raised an eyebrow and said, "I can think of a few instances where that's not quite true." He grinned mischievously and waggled his eyebrows.

Kensi rolled her eyes. "Really?" She asked in distaste.

He laughed easily and then pointed at her arm. "Sorry."

Kensi looked down and noticed that there was a line of black on her forearm. She must have drawn on herself when he'd startled her.

"It's fine," Kensi said. She licked her finger and started rubbing at it. The ink only smeared. The humidity did not make it any better, she was sure.

Kensi sighed at it and looked up at him. He was watching her with a strange expression on his face. "What?"

Deeks had seen her and reacted instantly. He was a friendly guy, and stopping to say hi to someone he knew was natural to him. It was like breathing, really. And there she was, sitting at a picnic table with her head bent over a pack of papers, chewing on the end of her pen. Her ponytail swung over her shoulder, leaving the top of her back bare where the tank top didn't cover. She was even tanner than he was, and her muscles slid underneath her bronzed shoulders when she moved to write something.

Of course he would stop to talk to her. He had to.

And of course, he was too damn friendly for his own good. Or, should he say, Paul's good.

"What?" She asked. He'd been watching her rub away at the mark on her arm that her pen had left when she'd jumped.

Reel it in, Deeks.

"It probably won't come off in this heat," he said. He grit his teeth together at how lame that was.

She laughed shortly, "Uh, yeah, I noticed. Don't worry about it. It's my fault I lost control of my own pen." She smiled. It wasn't the bright, friendly smile from earlier in the day. It was sweet…almost. Deeks thought she might protest to being called "sweet".

Regardless of whatever it was, it sent Deeks reeling. This was going to be a lot harder than he thought.

"So, graduation. You're a senior."

"Yep."

"With forensics and criminology, you're going into law enforcement?"

"Something like that."

"Like what?"

"A cop. Sort of."

"You? A cop?"

She looked affronted, and her eyes instantly hardened as she leaned back, raising an eyebrow. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Deeks gestured at her, "I honestly pegged you more as the model-dancer type, but was thinking probably law with your degree. Paralegal?"

She crossed her arms over her chest and gave him a glare that burned through him. It was meant to make him back down, but Deeks never backed down. He was a lawyer—almost—after all.

"Do you think people are going to take you seriously looking like that?" He asked, firing back his own judgmental stare. He realized just how deep a hole he was digging, and he was slipping down the side of it quickly. Her expression had hardened into stone.

"What is your problem?" She started packing her papers away, a gigantic stack of them that looked nothing like graduation paperwork.

"Wait. Come on, I was teasing," Deeks lied. He wasn't teasing, it was more like being intentionally mean. What it was, actually, was beyond complicated. He really didn't want to make this girl not like him, but he also wanted to help out Paul. But Deeks didn't know how to do that without being rude. Now he was sitting at the bottom of the hole, scrambling for something to help him climb back up. There was nothing, and she definitely wasn't going to help him.

She laughed humorlessly. "Yeah, if that's what you call teasing, I wonder how you even have friends."

She stood up and turned to walk away, but ran straight into Paul, who held out his hands to steady her. She instantly stepped away, avoiding his touch.

"Hey," Paul said slowly, assessing the tense situation. "What's going on?"

"I was just leaving, actually," Kensi snapped, glaring at Deeks. She hitched her bag over her shoulder and started off across the quad.

Paul looked after her and then stared at Deeks. "What was that?"

Deeks stood and braced his hands on top of the picnic table. A splinter of wood jabbed into his palm. "Start yelling at me." Might as well make this work in Paul's favor.

"What? Why? What'd you say to her?"

"Does it matter? Just stick up for her. Loudly, so she can hear you from over there," Deeks said quietly, nodding in the direction Kensi had gone. She had stopped in front of one of the buildings and was talking to another girl. The shorter, curvier brunette kept glancing in Deeks and Paul's direction while Kensi presumably told her what had happened, her arms crossed and her back to the quad.

Paul took a breath and set his shoulders. He had never been a good liar, and his physical preparation almost made Deeks laugh. Almost.

"What the hell, man?" Paul burst out, waving his hands. "Why would you say that?" It was a little exuberant, and in another situation, Deeks might have found Paul's theatrics funny.

Instead, Deeks decided to play the guilty friend, as if he wasn't guilty enough already. He didn't want Kensi to think was a terrible person. "Look man, I don't know. You don't think she looks more like a model than a cop?"

Paul's eyes widened in surprise at this information, but only for an instant before he continued his act. "Why does that matter? Criticizing someone for their career choice is low, Marty, even for you." He was well and truly loud now, attracting the attention of people around the quad. The most important set of eyes was still averted, but her friend was riveted.

Deeks gave his friend a look, narrowing his eyes slightly, but they could talk about the last part of that accusation later. "Don't tell me you don't agree."

"That's not important! God, Marty, get your shit together." Paul seemed truly angry now, as if he had taken everything Deeks had said personally. His eyes were bright with anger, and his voice carried across the quad. And it had finally reached ignorant ears. Or the ears of someone who just couldn't resist.

Kensi's friend was dragging her across the quad toward the men. Kensi was rolling her eyes, but her friend was determined.

There was quite an audience now, Deeks noticed. It was a passing period between classes and people were stopped in groups to watch the drama that was ensuing.

"Monica, stop, this isn't high school," Kensi was complaining. She looked around at the people and said more quietly, "You're making a scene."

Her friend pulled her underneath the tree and stopped them both short. "Surfer boy," she pointed at Deeks, "apologize to Kensi." She gestured between the two. Then she looked at Paul, "Other surfer boy, thanks for sticking up for my friend."

Paul nodded in bewilderment, looking almost afraid of her. Deeks looked at Kensi, who was studiously ignoring him. He didn't really know what to say. Apologizing would be backing down, which he desperately wanted to do, but he also wanted to help out his friend, who so desperately wanted this girl to like him that he'd gone on about her long after she'd left the beach that morning.

Deeks squinted into the sun and then looked back down at Kensi. She wasn't looking at him, but the expectation was clear on her face.

"Dude," Paul prompted.

"Sorry," Deeks said shortly. He wanted to tell her more, but his audience kept him from doing so. "It was inappropriate, what I said."

"You seem to have a habit of saying inappropriate things," Kensi said coolly.

"You're right about that," Paul piped up.

Kensi turned to him, "You didn't have to stick up for me. But thanks." She didn't smile. She barely acknowledged the chivalrous act that Paul had put on for her. She looked at her watch and said, "I have to go to class. I'll see you later?" This last part she addressed to her friend. The other girl nodded and Kensi left without another word, leaving a strange silence behind her.

Her friend was the first to speak. "Monica," she said confidently, holding out her hand to Paul.

"I'm Paul," Paul said, shaking her hand. She smiled at him. It was a genuine smile, not the bright, over-friendly kind that Kensi had given him upon introduction.

"Marty Deeks," Deeks said. Monica didn't make a move to shake his hand. She did, however, give him an appraising look, sweeping him up and down with her eyes.

"You were with Kensi at the party," she said. It wasn't a question.

"That's right," he answered anyway.

"She seemed pretty okay with you there. What'd you say to her?"

"I'd rather not repeat it. I feel bad enough already," Deeks answered. He exhaled and shook his head. "I really am sorry."

Monica held up her hands, "Don't tell me. Tell it to her." She shouldered her bag and turned to walk away. She looked over her shoulder at Paul and said, "It was nice to meet you." And then she walked away.

"Marty," Paul groaned.

Deeks looked at his friend accusingly, "'That's low, even for you'? What was that supposed to mean?"

"Don't turn this around on me. What you said to her was wrong," Paul argued.

"Yeah, well, I didn't expect a false insult in the process," Deeks shot back.

Paul started to back down and look guilty. He was non-confrontational to the point of meekness sometimes. He gave in so easily and usually Deeks just sighed and left his arguments at this point, because making Paul feel guilty was not what he was aiming for, but this time, Deeks was so frustrated with himself and the situation that he kept going. "I just insulted a beautiful girl for you so that I would look bad and she'd actually give you a glance. The least you can say is thanks."

Paul's eyes narrowed and his face hardened, but his need for peace won out and he kept quiet. The hurt in his face was obvious though, and Deeks felt even worse than he had a few minutes ago.

"I have to go," Paul finally said. He turned and left Deeks standing alone in the middle of the quad.

Kensi and Monica didn't see each other for the rest of the day. Monica worked evenings, and Kensi drove down to Pendleton for training every afternoon, and neither made it home until after 8 most nights. It was usually later for Kensi because of the long drive.

Kensi got out of her car and the humidity slammed into her, instantly making her air conditioned skin clammy. She shivered briefly before grabbing her bag from the back and locking her car. She walked up to the building and climbed the stairs. When she reached the front door, she noticed that the smoothie stain from that morning was still there. She rolled her eyes. Of course it was still there. She had no idea why she thought they would clean it up today. Service in this building was crappy at best.

"Hey," Kensi called out as she pushed the door closed behind her and entered the apartment. Monica looked up from her station by the stove, stirring a pot. She waved the wooden spoon she was using, which sent sauce splatting to the floor.

"Shit," she muttered. Kensi laughed and dumped her bag on the ground before meeting Monica in the kitchen.

Monica was wiping up the sauce and Kensi leaned over the pot on the stove, looking in at the spaghetti and meatballs that was cooking. Monica was an excellent cook, which more than made up for Kensi's complete incompetence in the kitchen.

"Oh, my god, Mon, this smells amazing," Kensi moaned.

Monica stood from wiping up the floor and threw the paper towel away. "You'd better not have gotten fast food on the drive back," she said, shuffling Kensi out of the way so she could return to her cooking.

"Nope," Kensi said brightly, hopping up on the counter. "Why in the world would I do that when I have you?"

Monica shot Kensi a look and then rolled her eyes, smiling. "You won't have me forever," she said. "You'd better get used to doing this on your own."

"We are not talking about how it's our last year," Kensi said adamantly, leaning her head back against the cabinets behind her. "I'm not ready for it to end."

Monica tasted the sauce and then added some pepper. She stirred it around a bit and then looked at Kensi. "Aren't you excited to graduate? I'm so ready to get out of this place."

"We have a whole nine months," Kensi whined. "Can't you just enjoy it?"

"Not when I can see my future right in front of me. I'm so sick of school I could puke."

"You're going to law school," Kensi pointed out flatly.

"Not until after I get a job at a firm. Gotta have a way to pay for it."

"You're thinking too far ahead," Kensi sighed.

"What, and these training sessions aren't your way of thinking ahead?" Monica countered. "Oh, I know. You're just scoping out another Marine." She grinned cheekily.

Kensi shook her head and laughed."I meant that you're looking three steps ahead rather than taking things one step at a time. You're getting tunnel vision. Enjoy the moment, isn't that what you keep telling me?"

Monica shrugged, "I'm just really excited about life, you know? I'm ready to be an adult who doesn't have to write papers and live off of minimum wage and loans. And a boyfriend who isn't obsessed with schoolwork would be nice."

"There are guys who aren't obsessed with schoolwork," Kensi said quietly. She'd gone almost all day without thinking about him, why did it have to come up now? Monica's comment about finding another Marine hadn't bothered her, but Kensi had found that the most mundane things drudged up memories and emotions. A certain smell, or the feel of a fabric, or even someone saying something in passing could cause the pang in her chest.

Monica looked at her, slightly pityingly, and then her face brightened up into a mischievous grin. "Yeah, what about those guys today in the quad? They didn't seem all that interested in schoolwork."

Kensi, thankful for the change in subject, rolled her eyes and hopped off the counter. "Don't even start."

Monica giggled. "They seemed interested in one Kensi Blye," she teased. "It's kinda sad they were fighting about it, though."

"They had every right to fight about it," Kensi said, "That Deeks guy insulted me!"

"Hasn't anyone ever told you that when a guy likes you, he picks on you?"

"When I was seven. We're adults, he had no reason to treat me like that."

"Ok, but what about the other guy? Paul, right? He's cute, and he stood up for you," Monica pointed out.

Kensi sighed in exasperation. "He's cute, in like, a brotherly way. And he seems nice, but that's about it." She stopped and thought about what she was saying. "Why are we even talking about this? I don't want a boyfriend!"

Monica laughed and turned off the stove. She stirred the pot a little more and then started dishing noodles into two bowls. As she did so, she said, "You should give that Marty guy another chance. He seemed really sorry about it after you left, like he regretted saying that to you. And he's hot, so there's another reason."

Kensi snorted, "Yeah, okay. If I ever see him again. God, I'm so stuck on what he said to me! It's infuriating!"

Monica smiled cheekily and said, "Stuck, smitten… whatever. You sure you aren't stuck on that crazy blond hair or his gorgeous blue eyes?"

Kensi gave her a look and then snatched her bowl off the counter and sat down at the kitchen table. Monica followed her, laughing silently the whole way.