Disclaimer: Not mine... but I can play with them for a bit, can't I?

Summary: If I elaborated beyond the title, I'd give the whole story away! ;)

Spoilers: References to events in "Borderline," "Deliverance," "Disorder" and "Personal"

Warning: Usage of two or three expletives.

Author's Note: Okay, so I know I'm supposed to be working on "Progression" and I'm terribly sorry to those of you waiting for the next chapter! The letter 'h' has proven very difficult for me; I'd go with one word and start writing, but then it didn't feel right and I'd change, etc., etc., and I've finally settled on one (I hope). Anyway, I feel there isn't enough Kensi/Deeks fiction on here and found a way to contribute. This has not be beta'd, so any grammatical/canonical mistakes are mine. Hope you enjoy and let me know what you think (please)!

The Five Times Deeks Saved Kensi, and the One Time He Didn't

It had become a pattern of behavior (unfortunately, if you asked her) that Marty Deeks ended up being her knight in shining armor lately. It all started out innocently enough, Deeks shooting the hired gun in the California desert before he could shoot her. But then he saved her again, coming to her rescue after the Russians kidnapped and imprisoned her within a room full of laser triggers. And another time when Vakar had his gun trained on her, prepared to fire, in what turned out to be a botched kidnapping attempt.

There was also that incident during Christmas, when instead of allowing her to get away with a lie he had taken her on his "date" to the soup kitchen, but she refused to truly acknowledge that one as a save.

Then, of course, there was the time she had gone beyond a second date (and even opted for a third, fourth, and fifth). As If that didn't end horribly enough in and of itself, Marty Deeks just happened to barge in while she was wallowing in self-pity with a six pack of Guinness and a carton (which was more like a gallon-sized bucket, but "carton" sounds better) of Rocky Road ice cream, concerned with her behavior as of late.

Upon entering, he expected to be faced with an enraged Kensi, if only mildly. Instead, he was met with somewhat of a pathetic mess; something he'd never really seen before.

"Go away, Deeks," she said dejectedly, considering throwing a spoonful of ice cream to prove her point, but sticking it in her mouth instead.

"Okay, Kensi, seriously. I have no idea what's up with you, but this has to stop."

Deeks tried, unsuccessfully, to steal her spoon from its path to her mouth.

She shook her head and took a swig out of her beer glass as Deeks picked a bottle out of the six-pack and got a glass for himself.

"Fine – then I'm wallowing with you. What are we watching?"

Her glare softened the longer she looked at the trying-so-hard-to-be-depressed-and-failing-miserably expression contorting his face.

"I don't know, some chick flick. I figure this is what girls are supposed to do when they go through failed relationships, right?"

"I don't think I know too many girls who go for the Guinness. Ice cream, maybe, but they usually forego the stout beers. I could be wrong though."

With that, she picked up her glass and downed the rest, staring at him from the corner of her eye.

"Looks like Ms. Blye is ready for the hard-core drinking to begin." He joked.

"Jack's in the top left cabinet. Shot glasses should be close by."

"I… wha… I was kidding." Deeks stammered with a nervous laugh.

"Well, I'm not," Kensi said as she motioned for him to move toward the kitchen.

He came back a moment later, a bottle of Jack and two shot glasses in hand.

"This has 'bad idea' written all over it, I hope you know."

"So did having more than one date with that guy, but I did it anyway. Don't be such a baby."

He snapped his head in her direction, preparing a response for the challenge just issued.

"Okay. But I suggest we make a drinking game of it. Otherwise someone might think we've got a drinking problem."

"Right. Because finding excuses to drink doesn't suggest the same thing?"

"Of course not. This is just two coworkers hanging out on a weekday night, having some fun. There just happens to be alcohol involved here. Now, what word or phrase should we be listening for?"

She glanced in his direction, "How about whenever someone utters some kind of romantic, crappy sentiment? Context doesn't matter."

He chuckled. "Now I have an idea of what's behind this mope-fest…"


"I was just saying that might be a little vague. We might run out of liquor."

"There's another bottle up there. Why, are you scared, D-Unit?" Kensi asked with a mildly frightening, almost predatory look.

"Of course not. Despite your status among the Justice League, I do believe I can drink you under the table."

She just scoffed and turned up the volume on the television, waiting for the cue word to take a shot.

An hour and seven shots later, Kensi and Deeks were looking only slightly worse for wear. Glancing at the clock and seeing it was only 10, she proposed they play another game.

"I'm not so sure we should, Kensi. You're looking a little, uh…."

"What, intoxicated? Given the fact that I had two beers before you came over, not surprising. Get on my level, D-Rock!" Kensi goaded as she poured two shots for him.

He winced slightly as he took down the shots, slamming the glasses back on the table slightly.

"Okay. I'm on my way to your level. Now what?"

"Truth or Dare, refuse to answer or act and you take a shot."

"Ahh, are we sure that's a good idea?"

"No, but do you have anything better?"

"Strip poker."

"You wish. How does that have anything to do with drinking?"

"Refuse to take off an article of clothing, take a shot."

"Then you might as well give me the entire bottle, because there is no way I'm taking off any clothing. Well, maybe my socks."

"Come on, Fern, don't be a party pooper."

"Please. I have another game, easy enough to play. Even for you, Deeks."

"Ouuuch, Fern. Ouch. Go on, then," he motioned with his hand for her to continue.

She rolled her eyes and began speaking again, "Go fish. Simple and effective, since we're taking shots, not drinks."

"Let the regretting commence in 3… 2… 1…"

"Have any sevens?"

"This is bullshit! Absolute bullshit, I tell you! I demand a do-over!"

"Ah, ah. No do-overs in life, no do-overs in this game. Besides, Jack's all gone."

"Just like a man to leave you high and dry," Kensi muttered, her face down on the coffee table.

"Another clue…" Deeks trailed off.

Biting back the urge to prod her for more information, he decided to let her go at her own pace.

"You know, I know everyone thinks I have serious abandonment issues and that I'm this," holding up two fingers with her head still down, "close to being a nutcase or having some sort of break down, but I'm not. I'm used to it. I just expect very little from people, 'cause in the end they all leave anyway."

Kensi picked her head up and looked over at Deeks, pointing a finger at him.

"Like you."

Deeks stared back and shook his head, arms raised in the air.

"What? What did I do?"

"You'll leave eventually. It's why I avoid the whole bonding thing, y'know."

"Why would you think I'm leaving? Pretty sure Hetty wouldn't allow it even if I wanted to. Besides, if I leave, who's gonna be there to save your ass when you get into trouble?"

"Pssh, I don't need saving. I do just fine on my own, thank you."

"Uh huh. That's why I had to shoot a Chechen terrorist while bleeding from two gaping gunshot wounds to the chest."

Kensi scoffed again, "You make it sound like you'd just been mortally wounded and it was your last 'heroic' act before dying."

Deeks quirked his lips and shrugged.

"Not quite the blaze of glory every guy pictures, but it'd be a pretty good last act. Especially because then you'd take the guy down in a fit of rage, hungry for revenge." He said with a self-assured, slightly goofy smile.

"Yeah… whatever."

Risking bodily injury, Deeks pulled her into his side and as her arms wrapped around his torso, he kissed the top of her head.

"No, I promise I'm not going anywhere anytime soon."

His declaration was met with a light snort, followed by a steady snoring pattern.

"Well, I guess this wouldn't be such a bad last act either. 'Cause if Callen or Sam find us like this, they're going to kill me…." Deeks muttered to no one in particular.

It wasn't too long before the team found themselves visiting the hospital again.

"You know, we're making a really bad habit of this," Callen remarked, sitting in the waiting room.

"It's not like we planned for this to happen. Hell, we tried everything in the book to avoid it." Sam replied.

"It's my fault," came a third voice, belonging to a man sitting with his head in his hands.

"Not your fault, Deeks. That shooter came out of nowhere. We were set up."

"I should have had her back."

"Considering she jumped in front of a bullet for you, I doubt having her back would have changed much. Look, the ER doc said she'd fix her up good as new in surgery."

Just then, the ER doctor walked into the waiting area and stopped in front of them.

"Ms. Blye is out of surgery but still under anesthesia, the slug was a through and through and didn't do any major damage, so with a little therapy she should be fine. One of you can wait with her until she wakes up."

Neither Sam nor Callen made moves to get up, knowing Deeks would want to be there for her.

Several hours later, Kensi awoke to the lightly dozing form of Marty Deeks next to her hospital bed. The small movement she made alerted him to her conscious state and he snapped up.

"Hey, partner, how you feelin'?"

"This seems like a vaguely familiar scenario. 'Cept you were lying in the bed looking all injured and pathetic."

Deeks chuckled, "Aaaaand she's good. So, since you're good, let me ask you this: why the hell would you do that?"

"I wasn't about to stand by and let you get shot, Deeks."

"I could have ducked or something!"

At Kensi's look of amused disbelief, he continued speaking, "Seriously, though, why'd you do it?"

Kensi sighed. "I just couldn't let him…. Er, well, I couldn't let you get out of that promise you made to me, now could I?"

"I… what? Wait, you were awake for that?"

She smiled, self-satisfied at having duped him.

"Well played, Fern. Well played."

"Besides, the doctor said it's just a minor flesh wound. Should be up and around in no time."

"Kensi, that was a through and through in the shoulder, closer to the lung, really. Not considered in the category of 'mild flesh wounds' by most. Well, maybe the actual Wonder Woman or, like, Hawkgirl or someone. But, sadly, today you only had the durability of an average human."

"Eh. Fine. Slightly worse than a minor flesh wound. Anyway, did you go after the guy who shot me in a fit of rage, all hungry for revenge?"

"Oh, maybe not 'rage.' More like a 'fit of irritation,' I'd say." Deeks said with a goofy grin.

"Well, thanks then. But, see? Sometimes your ass needs saving too."

Impulsively, he grabbed her hand and squeezed.

"I'm glad you're okay, Kensi. From now on, though, try to save Wonder Woman for the Justice League, okay?"

She didn't respond immediately, too busy staring at their joined hands in mild shock. Once he realized what he'd done, he hastily pulled his hand away, the both of them chuckling nervously.

"Yeah… we'll see about that. "

Author's Note #2: This particular one-shot started forming when I was at a bar the other night (most likely the reason for Jack being involved in the first half, lol) and I just had to come home and write it. I do hope I've kept them in character for the most part, and that this isn't too far-fetched. I appreciate your taking the time to read and hope you enjoyed this tidbit!