Former Glory

An NCIS: Los Angeles FanFiction.

This story continues from the events described first in Personal Questions and then in A Little Less Conversation. While it can be read as a stand-alone, I do recommend you read these first .

The first time they nearly made love was unplanned, but it would have been sweet and urgent. It would have been perfect, if Marty Deeks, still recovering from a gunshot wound, hadn't passed out. The second time they nearly made love, everything seemed perfect, right up to the moment when she was called away. That time would have been fast and with a fierce tenderness. Kensi Blye was determined there would not be a third time they nearly made love. A third time would kill her, if the frustration didn't do that first.

"You've been watching the clock all afternoon," Callen said. "Going somewhere special tonight?"

Kensi kept her head down. "Nowhere special. Just hanging out." There wasn't a hope in hell they would believe her, but it was worth a shot.

"Would "nowhere special" happen to be in the Malibu area?" Above her head, he exchanged a meaningful look with Sam.

"None of your damn business. You want to butt out of my private life?"

Sam took up the offensive. "I thought I'd swing over to Deeks' place tonight, maybe see if he fancies a game of poker. You got anything on, G?"

"Nothing urgent comes to mind. I might just do that. You wanna come too, Kensi?"


Her mouth compressed into a tight line, Kensi pushed her chair back with such vehemence it hit the wall with a loud cracking noise. "Why don't you guys just grow up? Working with you is like being in high school all over again, and believe me, it wasn't that great first time around."

The drive back to her apartment is long just enough for Kensi to finally stop seething. It is still early, she still has time. No need to rush. Everything has to be perfect – she has to be perfect. Nothing can go wrong this time. She's spent far too many days and nights longing for him, remembering how it felt to have his body pressed close to hers so that she could feel the heat of his skin, feel his heart beat like a jackhammer in his chest, feel the soft touch of his breath on her cheek and the caress of his hands.

Her clothes are laid out in the bedroom – new lingerie, wisps of silk and lace that look incredibly fragile and yet erotic at the same time. Her body is still damp from the shower when she slips into a black dress he had once admired, then fastens sheer stockings and finally slips her feet into fabulous shoes. Kensi had to have those shoes the moment she spotted them in the boutique window. For once she didn't even bother to ask the price. With vertiginous heels and sleek scarlet leather the shoes make her feel beautiful and dangerous at the same time

Tonight is worth it. He is worth it. Kensi has never felt like this before and she wonders if this is how a bride feels on the morning of her wedding, this breathless expectation, this sense of wonder and joy.

Everything is going to be perfect. Kensi has made up her mind – there will not be a third time when they nearly make love. And if there is, she's going to drive right off the end of the pier.

The drive is familiar – she has done it so many times that it is almost routine. But tonight is different. And after tonight, nothing will ever be the same again. Her IPod is playing Rod Stewart and when Tonight's the Night starts to play, she sings along at the top of her voice and life feels very sweet.

As she slides out of the car in Malibu, she catches a glimpse of how very sexy those red shoes look against her sheer stockings. The night air is soft and warm. Ahead of her the door opens and a beam of golden light spills out onto the steps, warm and welcoming. A familiar figure is waiting for her, his hair shining gold in the moonlight and suddenly life feels perfect.

This time, the third time, will be the night when they make love for the first time.

Marty holds out his hand and, when she takes it, pulls her towards him, so that she dances across the gravel and into his arms.

"You're beautiful," he tells her. "You're so beautiful." She loves the look in his eyes. And then they go into the house, shutting the door behind them, shutting out the rest of the world. Tonight is all about two people.

He has lit candles in the bedroom and that touches her deeply. The flickering light is soft and tender, like his hands as they run through her hair and down onto her shoulders, where they toy gently with the spaghetti straps of her dress. He smiles and she could lose herself in his eyes.

"You're a mind reader. Do you know how often I've dreamt of you in that dress, in my bedroom?"

And she smiles at him and without saying a word raises her hands so that they cover his and gently eases the straps off her shoulders. Without prompting he reaches around and tugs at the zipper so that the dress slithers to the ground in a shiver of silk. And then Kensi reaches across and begins to unbutton his shirt, very slowly, one button at a time, finally slipping her hand in to run gently across his stomach, where a fine line of hair runs downward like a golden arrow. He bows his head briefly and bites his lip for a second and Kensi feels her heart is going to burst.

Tonight they will make love for the first time and it will be slow and gentle and perfect as they learn about one another and start to grow together.

Much later, when the candles are almost burnt down, they lie together, arms around one another in a hot, unbroken circle. Her hair is tangled and stretches out in a dark cloud across the pillow and she breathes a sigh of contentment. She could drown in his eyes.

"I love you, Kensi."

He has never said this before, but it is the perfect occasion. And she smiles and whispers in his ear that she loves him too, that she has never loved anyone as much as she loves him.

Much later, they sleep; still entwined together, dark and golden hair tangling together in the pale early light of dawn.