A/n: It's evident that I didn't do anything productive today...

She stretched, rolling her neck and arching her back against the pillow. She was tired, but there was no way in hell that she was going to sleep right now. She was also in pain, but at this point, she was just sore and she'd had enough medication that she was more numb than anything.

She glanced across the room, seeing her husband in the subtle light of the window. The sun was getting ready to rise, and the clouds were illuminating his figure. With her head back against the pillow, she grinned and said, "baby's first sunrise."

He didn't say anything back to her. They stood by the window until the sun came up, and then he walked back over toward her bed.

Maxwell Andy Deeks was born at 3:58 on this beautiful Thursday morning in January. It was the most absolutely exhausting and grueling and ultimately amazing experience either Kensi or Marty had ever had. After he'd been born, she'd been too weak and shaky and downright nervous. She didn't think she could possibly hold the baby when the nurse offered him to her. She had visions and fears of dropping him, and she wouldn't allow that to happen. After Max's initial check-up, the nurse had handed him to Marty. He'd sat on the edge of Kensi's bed, where she kissed him and rubbed the fine blond hairs on top of his head.

But she hadn't held him yet.

She was never the one who wanted kids. She never desired to have a baby. Not until she fell in love with Martin Deeks. Upon their marriage, she had no greater desire than to carry his baby, to mother their child. And she loved Max from the moment her pregnancy test came up with a little pink plus sign. But he was the one who'd been waiting for this day for his entire life, and watching him hold Maxwell in his arms filled her with joy and happiness. He deserved to haul that baby around like his pride and joy. But it also filled her with a need and aching of her own, to hold him in her own arms.

It was past 7 am, and the baby was now over three hours old, and she still hadn't held him yet. But she can't quite ask her husband to give him up yet.

It didn't occur to him that he might say no.

It was a little after 8:30. A doctor or two had come back through to check on them all, and after they left, she'd asked. Her baby was born almost five hours ago, and it was really not okay that she hadn't held him yet.
"Can I hold him?"

He looked up at her, giving her the 'deer in the headlights' stare.

"Him?" He asked, like a doof.

"Who else?" she asked, mockingly.

"But I haven't even gotten to hold him that long," he said, whining.

"You've been holding him for like three hours."

"You held him for nine months."

"Not the same thing," she said, shaking her head.

"That, my dear, would have been an appropriate time to say touché."

She glared.

"I'm sorry, Kens. I just don't wanna give him up.

"You realize letting me hold him doesn't mean he's going to dissappear, right? You can have him back in like 20 minutes, I just wanna hold him. Plus, I'm supposed to start nursing him soon anyway."

"20 minutes my ass," he whispers. "Same thing's gonna happen to you that happened to me."

"Geez, what is it? What miraculous thing happened to you?"

"He stole my heart."

Kensi rolled her eyes and smirked, sitting up straight. He was being cute and charming, but he probably wasn't lying. Regardless, she's holding her baby this instant.

"Marty. Baby. Now."

He frowned and scrunched up his eyebrows, but he walked over to her and gently placed Max into her arms, uttering "Careful, careful," over and over.

She wanted to be angry at him for being so dumb and immature all morning, but she could just tell he was exhausted and happy and high on life. She couldn't blame him.

Finally, she held him in her arms at last. Her heart wasn't stolen, as he'd predicted, because he'd already stolen in. Carrying him for the last nine months had been one of the hardest things she'd ever done, harder than any case or taking any bullet. But it did leave her already feeling bonded to her little man. He had her heart a loooooong time ago.

She stared at all his little features. His nose: his father's. His hair: his father's. Damn, was the kid hers at all?

Yes, he was. He opened his little eyes and suddenly, she was looking into tiny chocolate brown orbs. His eyes: his mother's. He was so handsome.

Marty quietly asked if he could sit next to her, and of course she agreed. "Sorry, Maxwell buddy. I know Mommy's perfect, but you'll have to share her with me." He kissed his son on the nose. Kensi tucked his head under her chin, pulling him into her chest.

"My boys, my boys. What am I going to do with my boys? I just realized there are going to be three boys in my house."

"Love us a lot," Marty said. "And hold us."

"I'm not going to hold Monty."

"He'll be so offended."

"You can hold him. I'll hold Maxwell."

"No no," he said. "I think Monty will be just fine. I think Maxwell will need a lot of Daddy time."

"Mmhm. I bet he'll need a lot of it, like two months from now at 3 am."

"Don't even care," he said happily. "Don't even care."