Another instalment at last! Sorry for the long delay, but I'm struggling with illness at the moment and haven't been able to write for a while, no matter how hard the plot bunnies have been pleading.
Jack, damn his black heart, actually looks delighted to see Kensi. And Kensi? Well, she's smiling, which if you're Jack, then you might think that's a good sign. I know better, because Kensi is smiling inwardly. It's the smile of cat that has just spied a mouse and is looking forward to having some fun before she pounces. That makes me start to feel a lot better, because if you want the honest truth, I was beginning to get a bit worried there. Correction: I was a whole lot worried. Kensi and Jack had a whole lot of history between them: he was her first love, the man she planned to spend the rest of her life with – until he screwed everything up by walking out. I know she's still got a whole heap of issues about that, things that she's never been able to sort out, until now. They say that everything happens for a reason, so I guess this is karma and I'm just going to have to play along, let Kensi take the lead and follow her cues. I can do that. I can trust her. The question is: can I trust Jack?
"Kensi Marie Blye. Just look at you." And from the way Jack looks at her, he definitely likes what he sees. Well, even liberally bedaubed in mud, Kensi still looks good.
"Jack Eugene Reynolds – just look at you," she returns sweetly, like they're old friends, which I guess they are, in a manner of speaking.
So I do like she asks, and I take a good long lok at the infamous Jack. Quite frankly, I'm taken aback. I'd always pictured Jack as a poster boy for the Corps – chiselled jaw, abs of steel, flinty-grey eyes – you know the type. Kind of like GI Joe in the flesh. But this guy just looks ordinary, and not even in particularly good shape. Sort of like he's let himself go. Plus, he's way older than Kensi. Now, that's interesting…
"What are you doing here at Pendleton? Visiting for old times sake?" Jack asks conversationally.
Is this guy for real? We're wearing fatigues, we're filthy and we're taking the most direct route from the assault course to the showers. The clues are all there, you know and you don't have to be Einstein to work out what's going on. It looks like good old Jackie Boy might just be one sandwich short of a picnic. Which stands to reason, seeing as how he was dumb enough to leave Kensi.
"Standard fitness assessment." I can't help noticing that Kensi is keeping her answers short and to the point. That's never a good sign with her and it usually means she's struggling to hold onto her temper. Kensi in a temper is not a pretty sight.
"So you're still with NCIS?" Is it just me, or is Jack awfully interested in Kensi?
"I'm still with NCIS." Kensi gives a little start. "Where are my manners? What am I thinking off? Jack – this is Marty Deeks."
I hold out my hand and offer up my most wholesome smile, both of which Jack ignores. Okay, so he's short and he's rude. I didn't think it was possible for the man to fall any lower in my estimation, but Jack has just managed the impossible.
"This is your partner?"
Does he have to sound quite so dismissive? Jack definitely interested in her, there's no doubt about it. I can tell by the way he's leaning in towards her, the way his eyes are glinting with what looks awful like anticipation. The man is seriously deluded if he really thinks he can walk out on Kensi and then just pick up right where he left off, years later. At least I hope he is.
"Not just my partner, Jack." Kensi is almost purring now as she snuggles up to me. "Oh no, Marty's so much more than that."
She's practically licking her lips now and Jack looks decidedly uneasy at this turn of events, which gives me an unholy leap of fire in my belly. Okay, I can see how she wants this to play out, and I'm going to take the ball and run with it. And in the process, I am going to give Jack one hell of a run for his money. Hell, if I have to race him over that damned assault course, then that's what I'll do – and I'll set a new record while I'm about it. See, I might give out this mellow vibe most of the time, but when it comes right down to it, I can be a total unreconstructed caveman, thumping my chest with the best of them. I am Deeks – hear me roar. Or words to that effect.
"Deeks. LAPD liaison to NCIS. Good to meet you." This time I don't give the man a choice, I reach out and grab his hand firmly and watch him shudder slightly as my filthy fingers grip around his own.
"LAPD? So you weren't in the military?" Jack gives me a look up and down, like I'm something the cat dragged in. I'm willing to bet good money that his hair has never come anywhere near reaching his shirt collar in his whole life from the reaction he's giving me. This guy is seriously tense. And he seems to have a bit of a thing about dirt. A touch of OCD in there, perhaps?
"I was kind of busy with college and then law school," I announce, in suitably hearty tones, while keeping the handshake firm and then clapping him on the shoulder with my left hand, trying not to smirk too much at the look of horror that creeps across his face when he realises that natty white Oxford cloth button-down now has a large and muddy handprint all over it. Definitely OCD, I decide. "So, you're an old family friend, are you, Jack?" If I put just a little bit of extra stress on the word old, it is purely accidental. As in 'accidentally on purpose'.
Bingo. That little barbed arrow hits its mark, and no mistake. I can see the flash on anger in Jack's eyes as it registers.
"We're old friends, yes." Jack blinks a couple of times. "Didn't Kensi ever mention me?" He seems totally taken aback, like he should still be featuring in the life or something.
"Oh, it seems like I've known Jack forever," Kensi assures me, jumping in before he can say anything. "Only I didn't know you, did I Jack? Not really." Her eyes narrow when she throws out that comment.
"Did you serve with Kensi's father, Jack?" I interject, doing my best to look politely interested, when what I really want to do is to introduce Jack's teeth to the sidewalk and then jump on his head for good measure. I have to fight the impulse not to ball my hand up into a fist and ram it halfway down his throat.
"I'm not quite that old," he says shortly, barely keeping his temper in check and then turns to Kensi. "Listen, all that was a long time ago. And I was a different person back then. I've changed."
"Really?" She drags that single word out to its ultimate length and scepticism colours every syllable. "That's nice for you, Jack. But I've got news for you – I've changed too. And for the better. I'm not a doormat anymore."
"I want to explain."
And I want to get out of here. Except that this isn't up to me, because it's not about me. It's about Kensi finally having a chance to put some old ghosts firmly into the past, where they belong. So it's up to her. Just to make sure she understands that I'm here for her, I give her hand a subtle squeeze.
Kensi pulls herself up to her full height, which means she's staring directly into Jack's eyes. It's funny, because I'd always imagined him as being taller. And younger. The reality is that Jack is just ordinary: he is so average you would pass him in the street and never even notice he was there.
"Go on then. I'm listening." The look she's giving him is enough to freeze the blood in his veins and Jack seems to realise this. Maybe he's brighter than I gave him credit for?
"Not here. Not like this." And he actually reaches out towards her, smiling this false smile, like everything is fine, and it was just all a misunderstanding. The arrogance of the man just about takes my breath away. He really doesn't know Kensi at all, if he thinks he can lay down the law to her like this and hope to get away with all four limbs in working order. Then again, maybe that was the way things were in their relationship? Maybe Kensi let him get away with calling the shots? It seems pretty unlikely, but I didn't know her back then. That might be why she likes bossing me around so much.
"I guess I could do with freshening up a little," Kensi admits. I don't know, the mud-wrestling look kind of works for me.
Jack gives her a patronising nod. "That's right. And wear your hair down. You don't do yourself any favours, scraping it back like that." The man is so complacent, so incredibly sure of himself that he completely misses the dangerous flash of fire in her eyes at that command. "I'll be waiting at the coffee shop."
"Okay, so how about you tell me how you managed it for so long?" I say quietly, as we slope off to the showers.
"Managed what?"
"Not to suffocate him as he slept. Kensi, the guy is a jerk. A short, pompous jerk. And he's old."
"I know," she sighs. "Do me a favour, will you?"
"What – hold your coat while you beat him up? Sure – if you promise to leave something for me." We're at the shower block now, and I try to laugh things off, like I always do. Of course, I don't fool Kensi for one second.
She stops outside the door, and takes hold of my elbow. "Deeks? You don't need to worry, you know?"
"You're sure about that?"
"Positive. Jack and I - that was a long time ago. I was a different person then. And maybe I was kind of looking for someone like my dad. Was I trying to replace him? I don't know. And it's kind of creepy, now I come to think about it. So I really don't want to talk about that side of things."
I can go along with that. "I can see how it must have been a real bummer for you."
"Which bit in particular?"
"Him being so short. Could you wear heels at all? You must have looked like Tom Cruise and Katie Holmes when you were out together." Only nobody would even notice Katie if Kensi was around.
"As in ridiculous? I guess we did, only I just couldn't see it at the time, A whole lot of my friends asked me what I was doing, tying myself down to Jack."
"So why did you?"
"I thought I was in love," Kensi says simply. "At first, he made me feel safe. It was kind of like being a little girl all over again."
"That wasn't love I saw back there – that was control."
"I can see that now, but back then it was different. It was easy – as long as I did what Jack said, then everything was fine." Sighing, she pulls the band from her hair, which tumbles forward over her shoulders.
"Just for the record? I like your hair in a ponytail. I also like it all crazy and messed up." It's true, because Kensi has possibly the sexiest hair I've ever seen.
"Just for the record? The second best day of my life was when Jack walked out. It just took me a while to realise it."
I'm hoping I know the answer, but I ask the question anyway. "And the best day of your life?"
"Discovering I could walk in six-inch stilettos, what else?" She punches me on the arm. "The day I fell in love with you, of course."
Of course. "Right back at you."
I've only got one regret and that is that we're on a military base where there is strictly no fraternising between the sexes, which means my shower isn't anywhere near as interesting as it could be. Still, the water is hot and there's plenty of it. It's just a pity that the walls separating the men's and women's facilities are so thin, because I can hear Kensi singing. And Kensi is a terrible singer. She can manage to change keys in a single bar. However, on the bright side she's singing a song I can empathise with: "I'm Gonna Wash That Man Right Out Of My Hair." It's an oldie – kind of like Jack, I guess. Poor guy – I almost feel sorry for him, because he has no idea that hurricane Kensi is about to hit. And then I remember how Jack almost destroyed her self-confidence and I reckon that he deserves everything he's about to get. Still, part of me want to thank him for being such a dick, because otherwise I might never have got Kensi in my life. That's the thing about life: sometimes it is so all-fired complicated it makes your head hurt just thinking about all the 'what ifs' and how different things might have been. Only sometimes you've just got to accept that's just the way things are.
Watching Jack's face as we get out of the Porsche is great. The guy must be a lousy poker player, because I can count at least four different emotions in as many seconds: envy, desire, incredulity and disbelief.
"Now I know where my tax dollars go," he manages to say bitterly, and then nearly chokes on his Cappuccino when he sees how tight Kensi's top is, and the way her jeans cling to her butt. Do I need to add that her hair is up in a ponytail? No, I thought not.
"Are you still in the Corps?" Kensi asks and Jack shakes his head, with a barely-disguised air of impatience.
"Kensi – don't you remember how ill I was? I was discharged. Honourably, of course."
"Of course you were," I agree politely, thinking that I now had the perfect example of a contradiction in terms: Jack and honour. Or is that an oxymoron? I guess we covered that in one of the many English lessons I managed to sleep through.
For some strange reason, this seems to rile him up. "I expect Kensi told you all about it. About us." There's more than a hint of defensiveness in his voice and I can't help noticing that the armpits of his shirt are damp with sweat.
"Not really. In fact, she never spoke about you until today." Unlike Jack, I am a great liar. Well, I started at a young age, telling doctors how I fell down the stairs, or tripped over my own feet, so I've had plenty of practice over the years.
Kensi shrugs. "It wasn't important, Jack. I learnt that you've got to let go of the past and move on." She flashes him a smile. "Just like you did, when you left."
"That was different. And I've changed."
"So you said. And I'm pleased for you, because you really needed to change. But I'm not interested, Jack. I stopped being interested a long time ago."
"So why are you here?" he challenges. "We had something, Kensi. You know it and I know it."
"That was then and this is now. And what we had was toxic." Kensi practically spits the words out and I feel like cheering her on.
"I was sick!" The way Jack says it, I can tell he's been using this excuse for a long time. He turns to me. "I have PTSD. You wouldn't have any idea what that's like, of course." He gives me this look, like I'm not quite all there, or something.
"Of course I wouldn't." Okay, Jack's not just a short jerk, he's a short, deluded, self-centred jerk. And that's just on a good day. I work in law enforcement and he reckons I don't know anything about PTSD? Think again.
Kensi slams her hand down on the table so hard that half of Jack's coffee spills out of the cup and splashes down onto his chinos. "You have no idea, Jack. No idea at all. You think you're the only one who's haunted by what you've seen and what you've done? Well, I've got news for you…"
"Kensi?" I put my hand on her shoulder very gently. "Not now. And not here."
You see, most people don't know we exist. Even within NCIS the remit Office of Special Projects isn't well-known and we'd like to keep it that way. We do the jobs that nobody else wants, and we deal in death. Our exploits aren't publicised, because it would freak the general public out if they ever got wind of just how precarious their supposedly safe lives are, how very close to the edge we come at times to losing the game. We don't talk about that, not really, because we know how easy it would be to fall off that fine razor blade we balance on a lot of the time. We don't talk about it, because most of the time, we're trying to forget about what we do. Only that is an impossible task. I can remember the face of every single person I have ever killed: their face, their name, the day I killed them and a whole lot more. And I have to live with that, as we all do. You want to know why our team is so close? It's simple: because we understand. Nobody else can even come close to understanding what it is like.
"You're right. He's not worth it." Kensi stands up straight and tall. "It took me a long time to see you for who you really are, Jack. A pathetic little man, living in the past. And the worst thing is that I almost let you pull me down with you. I started to forget who I was. When you left, I didn't know how I'd manage to go on living without you. I wasn't even sure I wanted to live without you." She hauls in a deep breath, and when she speaks again, her voice is low. "I'll never forgive you for making me doubt myself, Jack. But that's not the worst thing you did to me – oh no. The worst thing you did to me was to make me afraid to love again. I was this empty shell for a long, long time. Until I met Marty."
Jack is sitting completely still, like he is hypnotised, or something. I don't entirely blame him, because Kensi in full flight is something to behold.
"See, the thing about Deeks is that he's a real man, Jack. He makes me laugh, and he makes me so frigging happy I could cry from pleasure. Because of him, I realised that love is unconditional. He's always looking out for me. Three times he's saved my life, did you know that? But more than that, he gave me my life back again. So really, you did me a huge favour – because you set me free to find a man who is all the things you're not. And besides which, he's so damned hot I get turned on just by looking at him."
Okay, I guess I'm the one standing slack-jawed now. But I'm as proud as hell of my girl, with her flashing eyes.
"I guess you've been wanting to say that for a long time now. To tell me what a loser I am." Jack looks like she's thumped him so hard he's not quite sure what day of the week it is. I actually feel kind of sorry for him, because I think he's only just realising what he's lost and how empty his life is.
"Don't flatter yourself. I was over you a long time ago. You're not a part of my life anymore and you haven't been for years. And my life is so much better without you in it." Kensi gives him a look that is full of pity. "You set me free to find out what life and love is really all about, so I guess I should be grateful to you. Have a nice life, Jack." She walks over to the car without a backwards glance, head held high.
"That went well." I manage to wait until we're driving off before speaking.
Kensi lets out a low sigh of relief. "I thought so."
In the rear-view mirror, I can see Jack is sitting staring numbly into space, probably wondering what the hell just happened. "Did anyone ever tell you how sexy you are when you get mad?"
"I wasn't mad. I was in control the whole time."
"I know. That's what made it so sexy. The whole control thing." I raise one eyebrow. "You know what I mean."
Kensi snorts with laughter. "It always comes down to sex with you in the end, doesn't it?"
"Pretty much."
She leans over and kisses me. Luckily the road is almost empty, because she also appears to have mistaken a certain part of my anatomy for the gear lever. "Which is another thing I love about you. Jack was kind of hopeless in bed, if you want to know."
"Believe me, I don't." I try very hard to concentrate on driving and getting us to the hotel as fast as possible and in one piece. Like I said, when Kensi is mad, she's really sexy. "I've just got one regret about how all that went down."
"Did you want to punch him?" Kensi sounds quite excited at the idea of two guys brawling over her. "You should have said."
"Not exactly." Although disembowelling Jack would have worked for me. Or maybe staking him out in the desert, pouring honey all over him and waiting for the fire ants to do their stuff would have worked just as well?
"Did you want me to punch him?"
Now, I've got to admit, that would have been kind of fun to watch, but I'm not going to tell Kensi that. "Enough with the violence, okay? I think the ritual humiliation was more than enough."
"So what's the regret?"
"Simple - we never got any coffee." Luckily the traffic is heavy enough for Kensi to think twice about hitting me again.
"Just you wait, Deeks."
"What – till you get me alone? So you can have your wicked way with me? Promises, promises."
"I never make promises I can't keep."
Which is just fine by me.