Deeks smiles brightly. "Morning, Sunshine."

"You lied to me."

"Hey, I never said I was fantastic," he says, perching next to her on the bed, "but I think I'm getting better. I suppose we can keep practicing though, if you really feel that's necessary."

She squints up at him.

"That wasn't what you meant?"

She grunts and smashes her face into the pillow.

His fingers trail down her bare back, making little circles above the bedsheet that's covering her waist.

She lifts her head long enough to turn it to face him. He's shirtless, wearing only a pair of boxers; his hair is rumpled from sleep. It's the third morning in a row she's woken up like this and she doesn't think she'll ever get tired of it. It's a terrifying thought. She's known this man for only six months, been dating him for five weeks, and already finds him fitting into places in her life that she's purposefully left empty for years. He's squeezing in through the cracks and she's afraid once he gets inside he won't get out.

Even worse is the possibility that he will.

She rolls over to face him, putting an end to his soft ministrations. "You said you were going surfing this morning."

"I had better things to do."

"Like?"

"What? Staring at your gorgeous face while you snort like a piglet doesn't count?"

She'd punch him in the thigh if she could muster the energy. "I do not snore."

"I never said 'snore.'"

"'Snort' isn't better." She sniffs the air, pushing herself to sitting, the sheet clutched to her chest. "Wait, do I smell bacon?"

"Oo this is awkward." He grimaces, sucking air through his teeth. "Do pigs eat pig?"

This time she does find the strength to drive her fist into his leg.

"Oh, Jesus, ow!" He retreats off the bed. "No need for violence. There are pork-free alternatives. I made pancakes and eggs."

Her stomach growls at the thought. "Scrambled?"

"With extra cheese."

She reaches out, snagging his hand and pulling him back into bed. He braces himself with his arms to keep from falling flat on top of her. The weight of him is becoming familiar, comfortable. She's worried he's getting too close - worried of what he might find, but it's times like these she thinks there's a chance it's worth the risk.

She slides her hand down his back and lets her fingertips slip just inside the elastic waist of his boxers. His lips curl slightly upwards in a faint smile that reminds her he has a hard time taking anything seriously. She considers abandoning her plan of attack and wrenching his boxers up instead of working them down, but the growing pressure driving into her thigh squashes the impulse.

"Extra cheese, huh?" The heat of her breath reflects off his ear, reminding her how close they are.

He grunts in response, his hands drifting down her arms.

She squeezes him. Not hard, but enough to momentarily bring his gaze back up to meet her own.

"Then we'd better make this quick."

Deeks blinks at his computer screen, eyebrows raised, like maybe if he lifts them high enough his eyes might actually stay open without the extraordinary effort he has been making for what seems like impossibly long hours - as if he might be capable of physically overcoming the mind-numbing boredom that's resulting from his current assignment.

It doesn't work.

He scrubs his hand over his face and yawns. Yeah, he's got to get some coffee.

He reaches for his mug and pushes out of his chair, making his way to the carafe in the break room. It's not the world's best coffee, but it's certainly better than the stuff that comes out of the vending machine downstairs, so he'll take it.

He's hunched over, scanning the fridge to try and locate his carton of soy milk when his cell buzzes. He pulls it out of his back pocket and brings it to his ear. "Deeks."

"Hey."

"Kens," he says, wedging the phone between his ear and shoulder so he can move aside the Leaning Tower of Tupperware. "Hey."

"Sorry to bother you at work."

You're never a bother, he thinks, pushing past a pair of paper lunch sacks, but goes with the less cheesy, "It's no problem. What's up?"

"I need an LAPD favor."

He finds his milk and pulls it out, almost knocking over an open container of yogurt in the process. "Then you've called the correct one of your many suitors."

"Well, there is Joe in Homicide - have I mentioned him?"

He pours some soy into his mug and returns it to the fridge, shifting his phone back to his hand when he's done. "You have not."

"He was my first choice, but I figured this was too menial a task for him."

"Good call." He takes a sip of his coffee and rests against the counter. "Homicide guys aren't into the grunt work."

"But you SIS guys really relish in the mundane."

"Exactly."

Deeks hears Renko talking in the background. "Can you flirt later and go ahead and get to the point before these guys regain consciousness? The dude with the purple nutsack is going to be particularly unpleasant and I'd appreciate a little backup."

Deeks doesn't know where to start. No, wait. He knows exactly where to start. "Purple nutsack?"

She sounds annoyed. "I wanted to take him out."

"You -" He grimaces, unable to even finish the sentence.

"I kicked him in the groin."

"Tell him about the part where he may be NSA," Renko interjects.

Deeks sets down his coffee. "You kicked an NSA agent in the balls?"

"He isn't NSA. He clearly had an accent."

"He did not have an accent!" Renko protests.

Kensi snorts. "Don't you know the difference between French open syllabic organization and English trochaic speech patterning?"

"I hope you're not talking to me because I understood maybe half those words."

"He didn't even have a weapon out!"

"Oh jeez, Kens."

"I'm telling you, he's French intelligence and he has no business operating here. He was impersonating a federal officer!"

Deeks shakes his head. "I'll send a few uniforms over to pick those guys up before we have to add assaulting a federal officer to the list of charges."

She snorts again. "I'd like to see him try."

"Just in case."

"Thank you. And can you possibly keep them a while? I'm assuming they've got diplomatic immunity, but we need a little time."

He nods even though she can't see him. "Yeah, sure. I'll put them in County. They'll be lucky if they're out by Christmas."

"Thank you."

"Just trying to stay on your good side."

Nell watches as Kensi leans over, lining up her shot. She inhales deeply and then slowly releases the breath, sliding the well-worn stick forward in concert with the exhale and starting the desired chain reaction. She smiles at the thud of the seven colliding with the leather of the corner pocket.

A man appears at the other end of the table, resting his hip against the side. He whistles appreciatively as his eyes trail shamelessly over Kensi's body. "Nice shot."

She straightens, removing the guy's view of her cleavage. "Thank you."

"Can I buy you a drink?"

Nell jumps slightly at the words, so distracted by Kensi's admirer that she hadn't noticed she had one of her own.

She holds up her beer, clearly more than halfway full. "Got one, but thanks."

"We appreciate the offer," says Kensi, stepping closer to Nell, practically wedging herself between her and the stranger.

At Kensi's clear aggressive stance, both men take the hint, quickly blending back into the crowded bar.

When they're gone, Kensi turns to Nell. "Did I read that wrong? Did you want them to stay?"

"Oh no," Nell insists with a definitive shake of her head. Spending her evening with a pair of shady barflies was not on her list of things to do tonight. She glances once more at the retreating figures. Make that any night. "Definitely no."

"Okay, good." Kensi nods, returning her attention to her next shot.

Nell watches a moment, unsure of whether or not to continue the conversation. She's been working at OSP over a month now, and while she's dominating the actual work part of the job, she's still struggling to figure out how to interact with the people. But Kensi asked her to join them tonight, so maybe it's Nell's turn to make the effort.

"I'm not," she says, pausing to mentally debate how to finish the sentence, "I'm not looking for anyone right now."

Kensi's shot misses the pocket by a good three inches. She stands, returning to Nell and grabbing her beer off the nearest high top. "Do you have someone back in..."

"Michigan, and no. I'm single, just..." She trails off, eyes sweeping back toward the booth where the rest of the team is still sitting.

Kensi follows her gaze. "Ah, I see."

Nell blushes, unsure of what conclusion Kensi's drawn from her wistful look, of what conclusion can be drawn, but certain she doesn't want to try and figure it out.

"What about you?" she asks, not at all subtle in her subject change. "Word is you're seeing someone at LAPD?"

"Yeah," Kensi says, gesturing for Nell to take her next shot. "We've been on a couple of dates."

"And?"

Kensi shrugs. "We're in that weird place right now where we aren't boyfriend/girlfriend but if I found out he was seeing someone else I'd -"

"Kick him in the nuts?"

"I'm never going to live that down, am I?"

"Not anytime soon, no." Nell smiles, stepping up to the table. "So, why didn't you invite him to come out tonight?"

"Work thing." She shrugs. "The team isn't big on including outsiders in our social activities. And I'm not even talking about real outsiders. I mean, I don't even know what Sam's wife looks like."

"Maybe that's her choice."

"Maybe."

Nell's eyes find their way back to the team. Only Callen and Sam are at the table now. "Do any of them - is anyone else seeing someone?"

"I don't think so, but I don't know. It's not really something we talk about. Well, besides Renko's occasional disastrous dates, of course."

Kensi says the last part loudly, so the object of her comment can make out the words as he approaches.

"Disaster is such a harsh word," he says, setting his beer on the table beside them.

"Can you suggest a better one?"

"Didn't say it wasn't the right word, just said it was harsh." Nell and Kensi laugh as his eyes scan the table. "Now, who's gonna win this game so I can provide some real competition?"

"Wait, how - you have a dog?"

"I do." Deeks tugs at Monty's collar, prying him off of Kensi long enough for her to step inside. "Kensi, this is Monty. Monty, Kensi."

She bends down just inside the door, scratching at Monty's neck. He's practically purring. So pathetic.

"Monty, man, have some self-respect."

The dog looks briefly up at Deeks before turning his full attention back to Kensi and shamelessly licking her cheek.

"Kisses, really?"

Kensi's smiling when she stands but it quickly morphs into a frown. "Was he here by himself all weekend?"

"No, no," he assures her. "He was working."

Her eyebrows raise. "Working?"

"He's a retired police dog and now he does some undercover work. Usually with me, but on occasion the department needs him for other ops."

"So he's seeing more action than you are, huh?" She's making a sympathetic face that doesn't seem so much genuine as an attempt at masking her amusement.

Deeks shakes his head. "Go ahead, rub it in."

The laughter breaks through as Kensi steps up to him. "If I remember correctly, you got plenty of action this weekend."

"That is true."

"Are you suggesting you'd have rather been on an op?"

"No, no," he answers quickly, closing the remaining distance between them. "Not suggesting that at all."

She reaches up to meet him, her lips against his, and he closes his eyes as his hands find her waist. The kiss is slow and gentle, lasting what feels like a long minute before she pulls back.

"Do I get the nickel tour?"

He nods, hand finding hers and clasping it. "Sure."

"Can we start with the kitchen?"

He tugs her in that direction. Probably best they don't start with the bedroom anyway. "Didn't you just come from a bar?"

"I did. Don't you have ice cream?"

"Rocky Road, purchased special for you."

He opens the cupboard and grabs two bowls as Kensi opens the freezer. He digs through his silverware drawer, retrieving spoons and the scoop.

"Thanks for the help earlier." She pries the lid off the container and Deeks offers her the scoop.

He leans against the counter as she dishes the ice cream. "No problem. Everything work out okay?"

"For now."

"You didn't assault any more foreign nationals, did you?"

She makes a face.

"Oh my god, you did."

"I didn't, but I would have." She licks some ice cream off the heel of her hand. "For some reason Callen had Sam on the rifle."

He shakes his head. "I'm sure I shouldn't hear the rest of this story."

"Please," she continues, pulling out nicely rounded scoops, "he deserved it."

"And here I spent my entire day in front of a computer screen. The only battle I had was the one with myself and my desire to open an internet browser so I could check the beach cam."

"Sounds exciting."

"Gotta keep up on the surf. Don't you guys ever have normal days?"

She hands him a bowl, expression hopeful. "Maybe tomorrow."

Renko's fists are white, his nails digging into his palms as he waits for the bomb squad to finish. "Can't they just -"

"They're working as fast as they can," Sam assures him, though he doesn't sound any less tense than Renko.

"Not fast enough."

He feels like he's been standing there for an hour - watching as Kensi sweats and shakes, her skin turning a lighter shade of white with each passing minute. He doesn't take his eyes off her, afraid that if he looks away too long she'll disappear.

"Okay, Agent Blye," says the squad leader, but Renko's not sure she hears. "Thirty more seconds."

The countdown ticks off, each second echoing in his ears as he waits to close the distance between them. The moment the beams of red are gone he's pushing past the bomb squad, reaching for her as she collapses, her mind finally allowing her body to give up the fight.

"It's okay, Kensi," he tells her, but her eyes are already rolling back and the medics are coming up behind him, guiding him out of the way.

"I didn't do anything," he says when he feels a hand squeeze his shoulder. "Not a goddamn thing, Sam."

"There's nothing more you could have done."

"I should have gotten her out of there."

"You got the bomb squad to do it. That's all anyone could have done."

But it wasn't enough. He digs his phone out of his pocket and dials, stepping away from Sam as Callen approaches.

"How is she?"

"She's going to be just fine. Listen, can you -"

"Just sent it to your phone."

Renko almost smiles, but he doesn't have it in him. Not now. "You're a peach, Nell. Thanks."

He hangs up and dials the number she texted. It connects after the third ring.

"Deeks."

"Hey. It's Mike Renko."

"Renko, what's - is Kensi okay?"

"She's good, yeah, fine, don't worry. Just a little shaken up." He runs a hand through his hair and drags his eyes away from the scene. "The paramedics are checking her over. Look, I know she'd never ask you this herself, but -"

"Tell me where you are."

Deeks parks his car alongside an unoccupied cruiser, opening the door and working his legs out the moment his vehicle comes to a complete stop. He sees her immediately - ghostly pale, blue lips, her hair matted to her forehead. She looks exhausted and defeated and so utterly unlike any version of her he's seen before.

"Really," he hears her insisting as he approaches, "I'm fine."

"Yes ma'am," the paramedic says. "I just need you to at least sit down a little longer, and if we could reinsert the IV that would be -"

She cuts him off with a wave of her water bottle. "I'm hydrating the old fashioned way."

The man looks at her, unsure but probably more than a little intimidated. He shakes his head once before stripping off his latex gloves and disappearing around the front of the truck.

"You know, if you let them treat you you might get some Jello out of the deal."

Kensi looks up, startled. "Deeks? Why are you..."

He steps closer and tugs the blanket higher on her shoulders, adjusting it ineffectively, but using it as an excuse to touch her. "Your partner called."

Her shocked expression immediately morphs into pissed. "Wait, what? Why would he do that?"

"Because he was worried about you?" He sits down beside her, perching on the edge of the ambulance. As much as he'd love to fuss over her, he knows she definitely doesn't need that. Or even want it. Hell, she probably doesn't want or need him here at all.

Renko was right, Kensi would never have called him. He probably wouldn't have known this happened at all if it were up to her. He'd just have dropped by later tonight and she'd be there on her couch, drinking beer and watching reality television like nothing happened.

Deeks, on the other hand, is an entirely different story. His heart hasn't stopped racing since he got Renko's call, though he's finally breathing a little easier now that he sees her whole and mostly unharmed.

"I'm fine," she says, shrugging off the blanket. "Nothing even happened to me."

"Besides being captured and held by foreign agents, pinned in place by a laser grid and waiting to be rescued until the bomb squad could be dispatched. You're right, nothing happened."

"I wasn't hurt. I'm fine."

"I recognize your armor's still in one piece, Wonder Woman, but it's possible you still could use a little extra support from time to time."

"I'm -"

"If you say you're fine one more time I'm going to throw you into this ambulance and drive it to the hospital myself." His eyes lock on hers. "We both know you're not fine."

When she speaks it sounds like she's trying not to cry. "I'm a little tired."

At her admission his body visibly relaxes. Maybe, just maybe, he'll be able to get through to her. "And hungry?"

She shrugs as water wells in her eyes.

"Want me to take you home?"

She nods, her head dropping onto his shoulder. He wraps his arm around her and pulls her close, taking a moment to feel her breathe against him.

"I was scared," she says quietly. "Even when Renko showed up and I knew the bomb squad was coming. I thought my muscles were going to collapse and I couldn't stop shaking and I was sure there was no way I could -"

"You made it," he says, dropping a kiss onto the top of her head.

She presses her face into his chest.

"You made it," he promises.

After a few minutes, she pulls back. Her face is a little damp, her eyes are red and she's sniffling, but she looks as strong as ever.

"You okay?"

"I've got to pee."

He laughs and slides off the ambulance, turning and reaching for her hands. "Come on. I'll use the siren."