If someone had told 20-year-old Marty Deeks that one day he would be sitting on the couch with his girlfriend, watching a rebroadcast of a symphony, he would have scoffed. Yet here he sat, happily doing just that. It had taken a little coaxing to convince Kensi, but now she seemed enthralled by the performance.

During a particularly lively version of Rhapsody in Blue, Kensi nudged his shoulder with her elbow. "You know, something you've never shown me—?"

"Can't be much at this point," Deeks interrupted, speaking over the music. "I'm pretty sure I've shown you everything I've got." He winked at Kensi, just in case she didn't get the innuendo.

"Yes, it's very impressive," Kensi said, pausing to give him a once over. "That's not what I'm talking about though. It's something more skill-based."

"Oh, I've got all kinds of skills." Deeks grinned at Kensi's groan.

"Deeks, stop it."

Shifting to face her, he adopted a serious expression. "Sorry, go on."

Inhaling shallowing, Kensi pressed her palms together. He couldn't imagine what was about to say.

"Remember when you mentioned taking violin lessons?" she asked.

"Yeeees. Why?"

"Well, this concert reminded me that you've never played for me."

"Kensi—"

"Baby, please?"

"I'm not that good," Deeks protested, even as Kensi looked at him pleadingly. "I haven't had a lesson in years."

"But you've played since then, right?"

"Yeah," he admitted reluctantly. Smoothing her hand up through his hair, Kensi cupped one of his cheeks.

"Hey, I won't push it anymore if you really don't want to, but I would really love to hear you play," she said, which was remarkably convincing.

"Fine." Sighing, Deeks pushed himself off the couch, heading for his bedroom. He felt Kensi's eyes on him the entire way.

Even though he didn't play regularly, he still kept his violin in good condition and stored it along with some other fragile items in his closet. When he came out a few minutes later with the violin tucked under his arm and the bow in his other hand, Kensi sat up, clapping her hands together in delight.

Deeks gave her a wry look, tucking a leg under him as he sat down. He plucked a couple strings, lowering his head in concentration. He spent a several minutes tuning the strings, adjusting the little knobs on either side. When he was reasonably satisfied with the sound, he turned to face Kensi again, and found her watching him.

"To reiterate, it's been a few years since I even touched this, so listen at your own risk," he warned Kensi one final time, tucking the violin under his chin, and bringing the bow up.

He chose a piece he'd taught himself in high school. The first few drags of the bow across the strings were a little rough, but he quickly fell into the rhythm, relaxing as motor memory took over. He closed his eyes, leaning into the emotion of the music, letting certain notes swell while other were softer and more subtle.

He played the final note, drawing the bow back slowly to end, and opened his eyes again. Kensi stared back at him, her lips slightly parted, her expression stunned.

"Sorry, guess I got a little caught up in the music," he said, feeling oddly embarrassed. "My teacher always complained about that. Didn't remember the audience."

"No, Deeks, that was—that was beautiful," Kensi quickly assured him. "I've never heard that song before."

"It's called "Ashokan Farewell".

"It's beautiful." She leaned forward suddenly, cupping his face as she kissed him fervently. Deeks moved the violin out of crushing range. When Kensi pulled back, there was a fiery gleam in her eyes. "That was one of the sexiest things I've ever seen," she told him, fingers slowly, but surely moving down his chest.

"Yeah, Mrs. Kayler definitely never said that," he joked, a little breathless with Kensi's unexpected response.

Sliding off the couch, Kensi took his hand, tugging him with her. Deeks started to set the violin to the side, but she shook her head.

"No, bring it with," she said, guiding him back towards his bedroom.

A/N: "Ashokan Farewell" is a piece written by Jay Ungar and featured in several of Ken Burns' documentaries.

Title taken from the song of the same name from the musical "1776".