A/N: If I didn't mention it before, I recently discovered Boy Meets World (I know, where have I been), and binged the whole show as one does. I can't deny that it inspired certain elements of this story.
Kensi remembered the day she'd first seen Marty Deeks when he walked into her sixth grade English class. He'd been about the same height as her at the time with white blonde hair and clothes that were just a little too big.
A couple girls had whispered that he was cute, and a boy said he'd heard the new kid murdered somebody. Kensi had looked him over with what she thought was a fair amount of discretion. She didn't think he looked like a killer; he looked scared. And sad.
The first day, he'd sat in the one free chair towards the back of the room, several back from where Kensi always sat. Between being a new student transferring in a few weeks into the school year, and the rumors, he'd received a lot of curious stares. Kensi had moved a few times when she was younger before her dad finally settled down in Los Angeles, so she knew how awful the transition could be.
For the three class they'd had together, he'd kept his head down the entire time, barely interacting with anyone. Something about that had tugged at Kensi's heart. Enough so that the next day, she'd made a point to sit in his vicinity in all their classes and at lunch.
They'd been pretty much inseparable since then.
Today, Kensi parted ways with Deeks after school to go to soccer practice. She knew Deeks had a basketball training too, so it would be a little later before they met up again at her house.
Her dad was already in the kitchen when she raced in, sweaty and muddy from practice. He just shook his head when she only stopped long enough to grab a cookie, and then ran upstairs to shower.
An hour later, Kensi and Deeks were camped out in the living room. The remnants of their dinner, lasagna and green beans, were spread out in front of them, along with an overwhelming number of text books, paper, and a calculator or two.
"So, what do you think?" Kensi asked, watching Deeks' face as he read her nearly completed Lit essay. He'd always excelled in English and Literature. Or really any class that relied on a good command of language.
"It's good," Deeks said with a nod, still reading. His gaze flicked to her, his eyes appearing bluer than usual under the bright living room light. "Seriously good."
"You don't think it's too…" Kensi shrugged her shoulders, trying to find a word that fit. "Cheesy. I know Kalwoski spent all year telling me I need to be more emotional, but I'm worried I went too far."
"Not at all," Deeks assured her. "I mean, I'm just a lowly high school student, but I think you really captured the spirit of "Glass Menagerie". And you know Kalwoski loves when things are maudlin."
"Well then, if the great Martin Alan Deeks thinks it's good, then it must be," Kensi joked. "
"Exactly." He handed her the essay back. "Oh, and my middle name is definitely not Alan. I don't know why you keep trying."
"I'll figure it out one of these days." She nodded confidently as she scraped the last bit of cheese off her plate.
"Uh-huh. You've been saying that for four years."
"Hey, I thought you two were studying," Donald Blye interrupted, coming in from the kitchen with a towel over one shoulder. He said it without any real heat behind the words.
"We are." As proof, Kensi gestured to the pages of notebook paper covered in half-worked problems. "Deeks thinks my paper is pretty good."
"Oh he does, does he?" Don shot Deeks an amused smile. "Then I have no doubt you'll be getting an 'A'." He gestured to their empty plates. "You want some more."
"Nah, I'm saving room for dessert."
"I'm good. Thanks again, Mr. Blye," Deeks said, reaching to grab both his and Kensi's plates. "Why don't you let me clean up since you cooked?"
"Ah-ah-ah, you sit down." Don gently pushed Deeks back down. "I can handle a few dishes and you kids have more important things to do." He patted Deeks' shoulder on the way out.
"Suck up," Kensi scoffed with a shake of her head.
"Hey, I gotta make him like me somehow," Deeks joked.
Kensi rolled her eyes at his continued insistence that her dad disliked him. He'd certainly been wary when Deeks first started coming around, but Kensi knew Donald had become accustomed to it, even if it was reluctant at times.
"Ok, what do you want to study next, Algebra or History?" Kensi asked, pushing her essay into a blue folder.
Deeks groaned, dramatically thumping his head on the table. "Ugh. Let's get the math over with."
"You're not that bad, Deeks."
"It's my worst subject."
"Only because you get A's in everything else. Do you need to be back home any particular time?"
Deeks shook off her question quickly, conveniently finding an abandoned story problem to focus on erasing. "Nah, she had to work late."
That was his response more often than not; Roberta Deeks worked long hours, sometimes double shifts. At first, it used to worry Kensi. Even though her dad had an unpredictable schedule that kept him away for days at time. He always made sure Kensi had someone to stay with her.
She'd learned a long time ago that Deeks didn't appreciate questions about his family. He could be especially protective about his mom; one of the few fights he'd ever gotten into had been over a comment made by a fellow student.
So, Kensi rarely pressed. Even though it worried her every time she thought of Deeks going home to an empty house. As usual, there was no clear answer, so she grabbed the plate of chocolate chip cookies in the middle of the table, and shoved it towards Deeks.
"Here, have a cookie. You're going to need your strength," she advised.
That broke through Deeks' determined focus enough to make him smile. Grabbing a cookie, he shook his head at her solution, and mumbled something about needing a whole lot more if he was going to survive.
A/N: Thanks so much for your interest in this story so far!