A/N: So, this is twice as long as I usually update, but I had some time to translate because my insomnia decided to show up again. Five hours sleep tops for me, longer chapters for you :D

Thanks again for being amazing readers, thanks to kensi54382 for proof reading and nope, I still do not own a single thing of NCIS:LA :(

Enjoy!


Deeks could see that inside of Kensi much more going on than she let him believe there was. He, too, could see that it was not his place to question further, just like when she had seen that continuing to ask wasn't doing any good in the hospital. As Deeks knew his partner, she would stay with him in that tiny apartment until they had caught each and every one of the cartel and until then there was more than enough time to talk. He felt better by now, the dizziness had passed away quite quickly as he had lied down and he could even imagine eating something when Sam came back with breakfast; the nausea only noticeable when he moved too much.

Deeks glanced once again at Kensi, her eyes fixed at something he couldn't make out and seemingly lost in thought. He arched his back until his pelvis was off the couch and he was able to pull the big sweatpants over his hip. Kensi chose that moment to bounce back into reality and out of her reverie; she stood up and put one hand on his chest, stopping him from sitting up.

"Nope, lay down, I'll do that," she said and raised a laugh.

"You just wanna get me out of my clothes."

Kensi shook her head and couldn't keep herself from grinning as she pulled the sweatpants over his bare feet. The blue scrubs Deeks had been forced to wear beneath the sweats was really rumpled and he wanted to get rid of them as soon as possible. As he was still lying on his back, he wasn't able to look at his knee himself, but Kensi's expression was enough for him to know that something wasn't right.

"Kensi? Do I wanna know what's wrong?" he asked, deciding to sit up.

The former white bandages were colored red at the inner side of his thigh, the crimson trace ending somewhere hidden beneath the brace.

"Oh, that does not look too good," he noted and looked in his partner's dark eyes.

"No, it doesn't," Kensi agreed, "I have to see what happened – I'll have to take off the brace and the bandages."

Deeks nodded and then glanced at his leg. The dressing extended up to his mid-thigh and by the end of it could not be seen because of the scrubs. They had two options: either he had to get out of the scrubs and would be sitting in boxer shorts in front of Kensi, or she had to reach into the leg of the scrubs in order to unbandage the knee.

Looking at her face, Deeks knew that they had come to the same conclusion. The two glanced at each other and silently agreed to the less improper version: Deeks had to get rid of the scrubs. Only thinking about Callen or Sam, or even both, seeing her hand in Deeks' boxers, made Kensi blush dark red. When Deeks had taken off the blue paper-like pants, Kensi opened the fastenings of the brace one by one.

"Okay, I'm gonna get you some cushions under your knee so that it keeps at least half-way the position it is supposed to be in. The thing is, when I take off the bandages, you have to elevate it by yourself. Can you do that?" Kensi asked and stacked some cushions from the couch under the knee, when Deeks had nodded, before she removed the brace and guided Deeks' leg onto the soft pile.

Deeks clenched his teeth. The operation had been almost a day ago and every little movement hurt like hell, but the pain meds were starting to kick in, which he was thankful for. Kensi lay the brace next to her on the ground and inspected the dressing. Blood had soaked through the gauze, just like the two had anticipated. Kensi smiled once again reassuringly at her partner, who was lying rigidly on the couch – she could see that he was in pain.

"Okay, now the bandages," she said and loosened the tape that held it in place.

Kensi undressed Deeks' millimetre by millimetre and stopped shortly as she had to remove some of the cushions, before she exposed the damaged knee completely. It seemed like it was heavily swollen and the bruises that were already forming made it look even more dramatic. Several stitches centered on the knee, each meticulously neat – except for one.

"It's nothing too bad, Deeks. Seems like one of the stitches opened a bit as your knee hit the doorframe. It has already stopped bleeding," Kensi calmed her partner and looked at the knee once again, before locking her eyes with his. "Other than that everything looks fine, as far as I can tell. I can't reuse that dressing; it should have been changed today either way. I'll be right back."

With those words Kensi had already vanished into the small bathroom, where the first aid kit stood still open on a cupboard. The antiseptic cream and a pack of gauze literally jumped at her so she grabbed them together with a sponge she had found after some searching in the cupboard, and returned to the living room, where she put the items on the table before retrieving a bowl with warm water from the kitchen.

Kensi knelt down next to Deeks and started to wash the almost dried blood off his skin. "If I apply too much pressure, let me know."

Not even one day ago, Kensi had washed the blood from his hair the exact same way. Deeks stared at her as she carefully cleaned his skin, applied the cream and then redressed his knee. She was doing it in such a careful way that he was actually touched. What was happening here? Kensi Blye wasn't someone who cared so much about anyone, she was someone who kicked asses and punched him in the arm for smartass remarks.

He decided to ignore that anomaly for now; he rather enjoyed being fussed over than having to tend another hurting part of his body from her sure-to-come punch if he said anything. As his knee was finally safely back in the brace, Deeks smiled at his partner, "Thanks, Kens."

"Anytime. You know that. And I hope you know as well that you can tell me anything, alright?" Kensi asked and thought back to last night.

Deeks sighed and answered, "Yup, I know."


Callen pulled up in front of the house the moment Sam rounded the corner with a huge brown paper bag in his hands. Callen waved at him before he gathered a bag himself, that one full of medical supplies for Deeks.

"Breakfast?" Callen asked with a glance at the bag Sam was carrying and got a nod in response.

"Kensi was just about to get rid of Deeks' pants and I needed an excuse to get away. I've got everything you need for pancakes, scrambled eggs, bacon, cereals, just everything I could think of."

"Excuse me – 'get rid of Deeks' pants'?" Callen grinned at Sam, but before he could ask anything, his stomach set the priority with a loud rumbling to breakfast.

Sam chuckled and then knocked three times at the door, rapidly.

"Coming!" Kensi yelled while pulling Deeks' sweatpants up to his hips and then going to the door. With one last glance she made certain that he was indeed dressed and then opened the door for their colleagues.

It seemed like it had been a good decision of Sam that he had bought everything that had come to his mind, because every single one of the agents wanted something different to eat. He, of course caring for his health, wanted some fruit with cereals, Callen, as always, bacon and eggs – main point that it wasn't healthy –, Kensi needed her first round of sugar, so she decided for pancakes with a ridiculous amount of syrup, and Deeks just hoped to keep a toast down.

Eventually, the small table in the kitchen was more or less overcrowded with delicious things to eat, that Callen, Sam and Kensi had thrown together. Deeks was still lying on the couch, his hands behind his head and stared at the ceiling. With all best will, he didn't know how he could survive without sport. He went surfing every morning, or jogged his five miles – sometimes three – and when he had some time left, he would hit the gym for boxing or whatever his mind told him to do. Twenty-six hours had passed since he'd been shot and although he was exhausted, he was full of energy he wasn't able to get rid of. The feeling was driving him crazy. His three colleagues were in the kitchen, cooking things which caused his stomach to rumble loudly.

Deciding, that he couldn't stand another minute lying there on the couch doing nothing, he sat up and waited for the dizziness to pass. As soon as that had happened, Deeks swung his legs off the couch and looked for his crutches, which he finally spotted lying at the opposite wall. As motivated as he was, he wouldn't risk getting to his crutches without help.

"Kensi?" he asked and saw her face popping up in the doorway to the kitchen, before she hurried with a concerned frown to him.

"Everything alright?" she wanted to know and kneeled next to him, for them being at eye level.

When she had heard his voice, the first thing to cross her mind was that he felt sick again. Now seeing him nodding to her question released her inner tension a bit.

"Yup, I'm fine. Would you give me my crutches?"

"Deeks, I don't think that's a good…"

"Kens, I can't sit on the couch all day, okay? Let me at least come to you in the kitchen?" Deeks practically begged and used his best puppy-eye-look.

Kensi huffed. He knew exactly that she couldn't resist that.

"But I will not catch you if suddenly decide to pass out, is that clear?"

"You won't? You couldn't help it, could you, princess?"

"Deeks?"

"Yes, my sugar bear?"

"Shut up."

"Fair enough."


Back in the kitchen, Sam and Callen shared an amused glance. They took it as a good sign that Deeks was back to bickering with Kensi. The two agents had a bet running for quite some time, how much time would pass, before the two of them finally got together and how long Hetty's speech about "unknown feelings between two agents" would go.

"What do you think Sam, will they kill each other when they've spent too much time together, or will they finally realize that there is something more between them?" Callen whispered to his partner.

Before Sam could answer, however, the bickering stopped and Deeks and Kensi came into the kitchen.

Kensi looked at them in a played irritated way. "Mr I-am-fit-as-a-fiddle didn't want to stay on the couch one second longer."

"Well, Mr I-am-fit-as-a-fiddle is fit as a fiddle," Deeks grunted as he sat on one of the barstools around the breakfast table. "Almost, at least."

Callen grinned and glanced at the detective. He looked slightly better than before, he wasn't as pale.

"Hungry?" he asked and got the last piece of bacon out of the frying pan and on his plate.

"Did you seriously just ask that?"


A/N: How did I do? Good? Bad? I hope Sam and Callen don't seem ooc for you guys - in my head, they're having a good time around Deeks, he grew on them :) Just FYI