A/N: Once again, thanks for all your lovely responses. Just a heads up, this chapter gets a bit dramatic.

After grabbing a variety of baked good—Kensi had insisted on buying enough that she, Deeks, and her dad could have several—they found a spot at a nicer park halfway between their houses to study. Well, mostly studying. Kensi had grilled Deeks about Kimberly Hutchinson for the first fifteen minutes.

Nothing had really happened, but Deeks enjoyed teasing Kensi by holding back on the "illicit" conversation.

When he got home a couple hours later, he opened the back door as quietly as he could. Roberta had been home, but sleeping when he left that morning. It turned he didn't have to worry about waking her up, because he found her sitting at the worn kitchen table, sipping at a cup of coffee with the newspaper still in its bag and the unpaid bills spread out in front of her.

"Hey mama," he greeted her, stopping to kiss her cheek. He shot the bills a quick look before moving on to the sink to grab a glass of water.

"Hi. You have fun with Kensi?" she asked.

"I don't know if I'd call story problems fun, but sure." He didn't mention the basketball game, since she disliked Ray even more than Kensi did. "How was work?"

"Well, I almost murdered a woman tryna use a coupon that expired three months ago. And I feel like if I have to pack another box of cans, I might shoot somebody," she replied, pausing a beat before she added, "So about usual. Sorry I wasn't up when you left today, kiddo."

"It's ok," Deeks assured her. "I knew you were tired." He moved around the kitchen, putting away a couple of dishes from the night before while Roberta sorted through the mail, muttering under her breath at the amounts.

"I'm thinking of making a casserole for dinner, you mind if it's chicken noodle?" Roberta asked sometime later.

"Uh, I have to work, so you don't have to worry about me," Deeks answered, turned towards the sink, and hoping they could move on from the conversation without any further discussion.

"Marty."

Apparently he wasn't that lucky.

"Mom, please don't."

"Don't you start, Martin," she said, her tone unusually stern. "You promised me you wouldn't work more than 15 hours a week until after the school year ends." She held up a finger as he started to speak. "And don't try and tell me you haven't worked more than that."

"I'm fine mom," Deeks insisted, turning around with a sigh as he saw she had her arms crossed over her chest, mouth set stubbornly.

"You're supposed to be studying! How are you supposed to get into college if you don't pass your classes?"

"I've studied every single day for the last two three weeks," Deeks snapped back. "You think I'm that irresponsible?"

"I think you're worrying about things that aren't your problem again. Like buying things for the house."

Deeks couldn't hold back a grimace. They didn't talk about this.

"The money you make is supposed to go in your savings," Roberta continued, standing up and moving her hands to her hips.

"I'm putting in 50%, just like we agreed." When he worked extra shifts at least.

"It's not right." Roberta shook her head, voice rising as she leaned towards him. In the last year, Deeks had grown enough that he kind of towered over her. "You're my child. I'm supposed to be taking care of you, not the other way around. It's not your responsibility to make sure bills get paid, or that there's food in the house. It's mine." She smacked her hand on the table, and Deeks jerked just a little despite himself.

Something snapped inside him, and he moved closer to the table. "Oh really. So what am I supposed to do? Just stand by and watch the electricity get shut off or Mr. Stanick kick us out because we missed rent?" he asked, chuckling darkly. He saw Roberta's eyes briefly before she covered her shock. "That would be so much better than me contributing where I can."

"I would figure it out, Marty. I always have," she insisted.

"How? By getting a third job?"

Roberta looked down, fiddling with her shirt sleeve awkwardly. He nodded, taking that as unspoken acknowledgment that she was already stretched too thin.

"You taught me how to survive, mom." He shrugged. "That's just what I'm doing."

"Marty—"

"I have to go to work," he interrupted, tossing the towel he'd been using onto the counter, and grabbed his work apron off its designated hook. "Don't wait up for me."

The week of finals came with the usual flurry of last-minute cramming and stress for many students. Personally, Deeks felt pretty confident in most of his classes with math being the one he could see go either way. Kensi put on a good outward appearance of calm, but he knew she was worried about several finals. She was disappointed in anything less than an 'A'.

The day after the end of the school year, Kensi and Deeks sat on her couch, two manila envelopes carefully laid between them. In what had become their post-school ritual, they would be the first to see each other's report cards, and celebrate, or lament, the results.

"Should we open them at the same time?" Kensi asked, repeatedly rubbing her palms over her thighs. She sat cross-legged, her left knee bobbing relentlessly.

"Ladies first?" Deeks gestured towards Kensi welcoming, and she quickly shook her head.

"No, I'm too nervous."

"I had no idea" he teased. When Kensi gave him an unamused glare, he offered her an apologetic smile. He rested his hand on her knee, stilling its jerking. "Hey, it's gonna be ok. You already had a 4.0 before finals, so whatever is in that envelope cannot be that bad."

"I suppose…"

"Do you want me to open it for you?" he offered. "Then I can break it to you gently."

"Yes, please!" Kensi said, shoving the envelope into his hands.

Biting back a smile, he slipped his finger under the tape and metal tabs holding the top closed, pausing dramatically before he slipped the sheet of card stick out. He ran his eyes down the column to the right, his face giving nothing away. "I regret to inform you," he began in a grave tone, looking up at Kensi.

"Oh no."

"That you have all 'As'."

"What?!" Kensi snatched the report card out of his hand, eyes widening in shock and then relief. "Oh thank god."

"Like I expected anything different. Congratulations, Kens."

"Thanks." She carefully set the card to the side, and held out her hand. "Ok, now your turn."

Deeks handed his envelope over to Kensi with a wry smile, casually leaning back while she opened it. He felt the tiniest bit of unease when she peered down at the card, but brushed it away. Whatever happened, there was nothing he could do about it now.

"Four As, one A-, and two A+'s," Kensi reported, looking over the top of the paper to raise her eyebrows. "Fancy."

Deeks inclined his head; that wasn't bad. "Let me guess, the A- was either math or debate?"

"Math," she confirmed. "Mr. Cook actually gave you an A+."

Straightening up in surprise, he took the report from Kensi to see for himself. "Really?"

"He noted that although he finds some of your views unconventional, he cannot deny your impressive skills in logic and tenacity. You're truly one of a kind."

"He's glad to have me out of his class," Deeks interpreted.

Kensi laughed, nodding in agreement. "Could be. But I doubt he'll ever forget you." She replaced her report card in the envelope, careful not to crinkle the edges. "Your mom is going to be excited."

"Yeah." Deeks managed a half smile. In truth, he'd been avoiding his mom as much as he could. Neither one of them had brought up their argument about his work schedule and finances, which made for lots of awkward silences. When they did talk, it was stilted and weird in a way that Deeks rarely experienced with his mom.

Kensi tilted her head, likely waiting for him to elaborate.

"She, uh, has to work most of today, so I'll tell her later," he explained, which was true. "So, how do you want to celebrate?"

If Kensi noticed the quick change in topic, she didn't call him on it. She considered the question for a moment, then grinned slyly. "Skateboarding," she decided.

"Kensi–"

"Hey, you promised to give me lessons and never did. Please?" She stuck out her bottom lip, and Deeks rolled his eyes.

"Fine. I really thought you'd go with something food-based," he commented.

"I gotta keep you on your toes," Kensi said with a shrug. "So, when do we start?"

"We'll have to stop at my house to get my board." He paused and eye Kensi speculatively. "And knee pads."

Kensi tugged him to his feet, draping her arm over his shoulders. "I'm choosing to ignore your negativity. This is going to be amazing."