A/N: A random little fic where Kensi first recognizes she might feel more for Deeks than just friendship.
"Well, you should come over and I'll show you sometime."
"Does that include a hands-on demonstration?"
Kensi stills in the tunnel as Deeks chuckles, a touch of surprise in his voice, in response to Agent Lesley Brown's question.
"There will be a portion," he responds, and Kensi thinks there's a hint of flirtation to the words. Frowning, she slowly walks the rest of the way to the bullpen.
Deeks is casually perched on the edge of his desk, Agent Brown in front of him. The small blonde woman's chest nearly brushes Deeks, her legs between either of his, and one hand resting on his right forearm.
Deeks and her had certainly found themselves in far more compromising positions over the years. Little touches, caresses, hugs, had all become commonplace for them. Yet somehow this seems so much worse.
As Kensi watches, Lesley reaches up and brushes a curl off Deeks' temple. Something about the gesture, so simple yet intimate, makes Kensi's heart clench with unexpected pain. She presses her fist to her chest, stunned by the intensity of her reaction.
Before Kensi has a chance to figure out what the hell is going on, Deeks shifts from behind Lesley, his lips quirking with a smile.
"Kensi! Hey, I didn't see you come in," he says, hopping off the desk.
"Hey. I'm surprised to see you here before 9 AM, Deeks," Kensi replies, hoping she doesn't sound as shaky as she feels. Moving over to her desk, she keeps her back turned as she sets her bag down, giving her the time to adjust her expression.
When she turns around again, Lesley is right at Deeks' side again. Like they're an established pair.
"I had a few questions about yesterday's case," Lesley explains with a fond, knowing smile in Deeks' direction. She touches his forearm. Just a brief brush of her fingers. "Deeks was kind enough to come in early and help me out."
"Yes, he's very giving," Kensi observes dryly. The space between Deeks' eyes furrows, but he doesn't say anything.
"Then somehow we got on hobbies, and Deeks mentioned how much he likes to surf. I think I've almost convinced him to give me a lesson this Saturday before I leave you guys," Lesley continues without a hint of cattiness or possessiveness. Which would make it so much easier to hate her. She's just too nice.
"I told you, I haven't actually taught in years," Deeks warns hers. Nodding to Kensi, he adds, "You wanna come with?"
She stares back at him. Is he joking? Making fun of her? Or worse, taking pity. Because there's no way on earth she wants to accompanying him on a date disguised as a surfing outing.
"I already know how to surf. Besides, I already have plans."
"Oh, that's a shame." This time, Lesley doesn't sound all that disappointed.
"Ok, well, you know there's always a spare board for you if you change your mind," Deeks says.
"Thanks." Kensi makes a show of getting out her laptop, logging on, and getting to work, though in reality, a blank expense report fills the screen.
After a couple minutes, Deeks and Lesley go back to chatting. She watches how comfortable they are with each other, the way Lesley gently shoves at his arm or leans in like he's sharing something private. Deeks' unbridled laughs at whatever Lesley has to say. The ache in her chest return, sharper and heavier than before.
It shouldn't matter who Deeks flirts with or goes on surfing dates with. They're just partners. Somehow that reminder doesn't quell the ache.