It was three days after the fallout when he finally showed up at her apartment. He looked like hell. His hair was a wild mess and he smelled like burbon, but he wasn't drunk.
Despite the three day time gap, she falls right into his embrace. Her head finds that place where it fits into his chest perfectly. He runs his fingers through her ponytail, and he grabs the holder and gently pulls it lose. Her hair falls down around her face, and he runs his fingers through it over and over and over, trying to soothe her.
They need it.
She doesn't understand how it happened. She doesn't understand why. But he wasn't her partner anymore and Hetty didn't seem to care, and it really pissed her off. He was surely at the LAPD playing Max Gentry and no one was there to save his sorry ass if he did something stupid, and frankly, it scared her shitless. She was so pissed but so confused and sad at the same time.
It didn't necessarily hurt her that he had disappeared for three days. It was a lot to take in, for the both of them. They're both very private people, and sometimes they need their time. Even when they need each other, they tend to gravitate towards being alone. Especially when it's something like this, where there were no answers and everything they've known for the past few years just disappeared right in front of them. But it stung to see his empty desk and bed and to look at her phone and not have a message from him.
They end up on the couch, his legs sprawled out as she sits criss cross applesauce on his lap. He uses her hair tie and he tries to braid her hair, but he hasn't quite mastered the skill yet, so it's loose and falling out, but he still thinks its beautiful. He leans forward and presses his nose into the braid and just breathes her in. He wraps his arms around her waist and rests his chin on her shoulder and sighs.
"They can take my work partner away from me, but there is no way in hell that they're taking Max away from Fern."
His three day absence gave him time to think: to think about what he wants. He's always known he wanted her, but in the past, he'd back up when things got complicated. But now that he's had that taste of a life with her, he's addicted. And he won't let it go.
"Are you back?" she asked hesitantly, staring blankly at the wall in front of her, hoping that the focus will keep the tears from falling.
"I was never gone," he says, but she starts to interrupt, but he doesn't let her. "I know I wasn't here, but I wasn't with another girl. I went to LAPD, I got drunk, I had a breakdown, and came to the determination that I'm in your possession, no one elses. You're the only one who is allowed to do as they please with me."
Hearing his confession grinds on her heartstrings. How can he trust her like this? When everything in their world is burning to the ground? And he's just saying "I don't care if you just use me, I don't. Just don't let me go."
She couldn't ever use him.
But she does roll turn her head, lean back against him, and lace her fingers through his.
"It's been colder without you."
The pained expression that wipes over his face makes her first tear fall. Their connected arms and hands come down over her head and he wraps them around her. He twists and twists her until they're lying side by side on her couch. He possessively kicks a leg up over hers and rests it in the middle of her thigh with his heel on her shin. He pulls her into him as tightly as her can, to collect as much body heat as possible.
"I'm so sorry, baby."
"Don't call me baby, and don't apologize."
"No, you needed to hear it. I'm sorry I made you worry. And left you in the cold."
"Well, thank you, Deeks. That means a lot, really," she said, trying to be real with him. He had stung her. She needed to accept his apology. "Thank you for coming back to me."
"No matter what baby girl, I'm yours."
She wanted to yell at him because he just called her baby again, but she didn't. Because he could call her anything he wanted, as long as he threw in "I'm yours" at the end.
He pressed a long, hard and slow kiss into the pulse point of her neck. He stopped and said, "We're not partners anymore. I guess we can just be Max and Fern and drive around in my truck all the time, then." He then continued to kiss her.
She couldn't form a thought because damn, his kisses made her feel warm, so warm.
"Just a boy and girl hanging out," she said, and smiled. They would be okay. Even if they weren't partners, they'd always have Fern and Max.