A/N: Thanks to everyone for the great response to this story. If I haven't had a chance or can't reply to your review, please know that I appreciate it so much.

Kensi sleeps horribly that night. She can't get the image of Taylor, exposed to such violence when he should be carefree and innocent. Or Deeks' stricken face as he cuddled Taylor, the way he'd just shut down on the way home.

After tossing and turning for hours, she decides sleep isn't going to happen and gets up disgustingly early, deciding on a run to clear her mind. By the time she gets back to her apartment, the sun is fully shining and she feels significantly less terrible.

Somehow, she doesn't think Deeks will shake it off quite so easily. With that thought in mind, she sends off a quick text telling she'll pick him up before jumping in the shower.

It's a little out of her way, but Deeks has come through for her in a million ways as a friend and partner, she could handle an extra 20 minutes of driving. On the way, she stops by a bakery, grabbing enough in case Sylvia was still home.

Half an hour later, she carries the small cardboard box with a cellphone window in the top up to the patio. Sylvia answers the door, hair pulled up in a high ponytail and dressed in the turquoise smock Kensi recognizes from the bakery she runs.

"Kensi, hi," Sylvia says, with a slightly flustered smile. She looks beyond her as though there might be more people waiting. "I didn't realize you were stopping by."

"Hey! I guess Deeks didn't get a chance to tell you I offered to pick him up," Kensi explains. "I'm sure he told you yesterday was a rough one, so I thought I'd give him a break. Oh, and I brought muffins. Cinnamon's your favorite, right?" Kensi offers her the muffins with a shrug.

"Oh wow, that's so kind of you." Accepting the box, Sylvia widens the door a little. "Why don't you come in? I'll let Marty know you're here."

"No, that's ok. I'll wait out here." She gestures to the SUV. The few times she's been inside their home, she's felt like she was intruding into a part of Deeks' life that isn't hers to see. "I have a couple calls to make."

"It's always something, isn't it?" Sylvia says with a roll of her eyes.

Deeks appears behind her, still tugging his shirt into place, hair damp. "Hey, Kensi, sorry. Lost track of time," he says, out of breath as he grabs his house keys and phone.

"It's no problem."

"Have a good day at work, Sylv." He kisses Sylvia's cheek, but at the last second, she wraps her arm around his neck, kissing him more deeply. Kensi raises her eyebrows, surprised by the very open display of affection.

When they pull apart, Deeks seems just as caught off-guard, his cheeks tinged with pink under his beard.

"I'll be here waiting for you," Sylvia tells him, a promise in her voice as she brushes his bangs back from his eyes, then turns to face Kensi. "It was good seeing you again."

"You too," Kensi says, following Deeks back down the sidewalk.

"So, I didn't realize you were taking on full-time chauffeur duties," Deeks says as he slides into the passenger seat, legs extending deep into the footwell.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Don't get used to it," Kensi warns him, shoving an empty muffin liner into the console before Deeks can comment on it and passes him a coffee.

He seems better than last night, though based on the shadows under his eyes, he probably hadn't gotten much sleep either. There's also a cut on his bottom lip that hadn't been there last night.

She eyes it for several seconds before resolutely looking away, cataloguing the injury with the others from the last few weeks. He'd been angry last night. Normally he's not when remotely violent, but maybe he'd walked over to a local bar for a few drinks and gotten into with some smart mouth or handsy guy. It would certainly explain the myriad of random cuts and bruises better than the idea of Deeks running into shelves and falling off a skateboard.

Pulling onto the street, she gives him a few minutes to talk, about yesterday, the split lip, anything. When he stays silent, just sipping at his coffee, Kensi decides that it's her job to fill that silence today.

"So, I was on Match last weekend—"

"Oh god, not again," Deeks groans, but she sees the conversation starter has already done the trick based on the grin tugging at his lips.

"What's that supposed to mean?" she demands.

"Come on, of the last two guys you met on there, one turned out be married with three kids and the other brought his mom on your first date."

"So there's a learning curve. I matched with some really cute guys, no signs of excessive body hair." She extends her index finger at that last point, drowning a snort from Deeks. "Here." She tosses her phone to Deeks, keeping her eyes on the road, and he navigates to the pictures she's saved.

"Ok, no reason to make your profile picture shirtless. Reeks of desperation," he comments, nodding at the next picture. "And he's definitely not 35."

"Ok, ok, ok," Kensi says, making a gimme gesture. "Enough roasting my taste in men." Pulling into the LAPD parking lot, she chooses a spot towards the middle of the lot, and parks.

Before they get out, and there's too many listening ears, she touches his shoulder. "Hey, all jokes aside, are you ok?"

He stills, and the fact that he doesn't immediately brush off her question is telling. The heaviness settles in his eyes again. He's quiet for so long, she can't tell if he's debating what to say or not planning on answering at all. "Honestly, I'm not great, but I'll get there. Thanks for checking on me, though. For all this." He holdw up the coffee, gestures to the SUV.

"That's what we do, right?" she sayw. "We look out for each other. Any time you want to talk, whatever it's about, I'm always here." Though she doesn't say it outright, she holds his gaze for an extra couple seconds hoping he'll hear her unspoken message.

His face shutters, for just a few seconds before he remembers himself, but Kensi sees it all the same. She wonders if he's regretting how well they know each other right now.

"I appreciate that," he settles on, effectively ending the conversation by opening his door.

Once they're inside, he avoids his usual side chats and doesn't stop off at the detectives side, seemingly on a mission.

"I want to check on Taylor and Rowena. Make sure everything went ok with the social worker," he explains to Kensi. "Meet you during roll call."

And that's part of what makes him such a good cop. He cares, way past the line of duty. It's also what makes it so hard for him to come back from these difficult cases.

It's on the tip of Kensi's tongue to offer to come with, but something tells her he wants to do this on his own, so she just nods.

"Ok, let me know how they're doing."

Today had gone better than Deeks anticipated. He'd learned Rowena and Taylor were staying with relatives until they found permanent housing. He also hadn't got any nasty texts, which he figures means Sylvia has calmed down from last night and isn't mad about this morning.

Maybe he's grasping at straws, but it gives him the tiniest amount of hope.

After shift, he'd stopped at a local florist for dark pink gladiolas—Sylvia's favorite—and takeout from the little Italian place they used to go when they first started dating. It's not an apology; he's done nothing wrong, neither has Kensi. It is an attempt revisit the days when a stem of her favorite flowers made Sylvia smile like he'd brought her the world, to remind her what they once had.

Laughter, dates in the park, walking along the beach after midnight. Deeks misses that time in their relationship so acutely his chest physically aches. He misses the days when it didn't feel like he had to walk on tiptoe to avoid a fight, when they his every move wasn't scrutinized and criticized. When he wasn't afraid—

He shuts that line of thought down, brushing his thumb across his bottom lip, looking out the window into the darkened garage. Despite his resolve to fix things tonight, or at least start the process, he's finding it difficult to leave his truck.

Inhaling deeply, Deeks rests his hand on his knees, focusing on relaxing each part of his body the way he'd learned on therapy years ago. When he's done, he feels steadier and before he can find another reason to delay, opens the door, taking short flight of stairs that lead to the condo's back entrance.

"Hey Sylv, I'm home!" he calls out, walking from the kitchen to den and finding both empty. After a little more searching, he finds Sylvia in their room, curled up on bed with her laptop.

She doesn't acknowledge his presence, though Deeks is certain she heard him. He sighs internally. So they're playing the ignore game today.

"Hey, honey." He knocks on the doorframe a couple times before strolling in and Sylvia lifts her head slowly, eyeing him with disinterest. "How was work today?"

"Long. Some idiot cancelled last minute and now I have a hundred and fifty wedding cookies to get rid of," she responds, once again looking back at her screen.

"I'm sorry. I know it doesn't make up for a crappy day, but I brought home dinner from Lucia's. Thought we could maybe take it out back and eat under the stars."

She flicks another glance at him, eyes lingering on the paper bag in his hand, the bouquet of gladiolas.

"I already ate."

"Well, then what about dessert," Deeks suggests easily.

"You really think some flowers and crappy Italian can make up for this morning?" she demands, anger finally breaking through her mask of indifference.

"Make up for what?" he asks, even though he knows where this is going. It's not how he planned this conversation going, but since Sylvia seems determined to fight, he's not backing down. "I literally woke up and then went to work."

"Oh, don't play dumb. Your "partner" shows up on our doorstep at 7am in the morning, with damn muffins and all smiles. Do you know how embarrassing that was?"

"She was being nice," Deeks says, defending Kensi without thinking. "I know you think everyone has an agenda, but she does not. She was just looking out for me after a terrible day."

"No, what she really wants is to get in your pants." She ignores the horrified sound he makes, sliding off the bed, and barreling on. He backs up a few steps, but she follows him, jabbing a finger at him. "I see the way she looks at you. The way she says your name." She sneers, getting up in Deeks face. "Did you sleep with her during one those nights you said you had to work?"

"Sylvia, just stop it!" he grits out, and he's horrified to realize he's shouting. Her eyes light up with perverse pleasure. She's enjoying this. He's shaking though, his hands, his voice. "I have never cheated on you," he whispers in stark contrast to a moment ago. "Ever."

"Then prove it to me," she says. "Make me believe that you have no interest in Kensi Blye."

"I've done everything you've ever asked. What else could I possibly do?"

Her eyes darken and his stomach sinks. Resting her hands on his chest in a parody of affection, she smiles, though there's no warmth. "Get a new partner."

"No," he says without a second of consideration. The thought of losing Kensi, one of the few good things in his life is unbearable. "No, I won't do that."

Sylvia steps back, and lets out a humorous peal of laughter. He has less than a second of warning before she pulls back her arm, fist landing in the center of his chest, the force enough to knock him back a few inches. He stumbles into their bureau, sharply jarring his left hip, the bag of food slipping from his hand.

"Then you're just as bad as every other man I've ever met. A liar and a cheat. I don't why I ever thought you were better than them," Sylvia hisses. She shoots him a look of disgust sweeping out of the room.

Even though he knows they're not true, her words and disdain eat at him. He presses his fist to his aching chest, once again trembling.

A/N: I'm not sure if I've portrayed it quite right, but Sylvia is employing a variety of manipulative and abusive tactics.

Also, just to be clear, Kensi and Deeks' relationship is purely platonic.