Light & Dark
She waited for the lightning to flash again. This time she knew what part of the room to focus on. She was convinced she had seen a shape on the darkened floor, over by the large piece of machinery that dominated the left side of the room. The high bank of windows above her were streaked with rain and rattled loudly with the thunder. She was thankful for the windows, but especially for the lightning. It was the only illumination she'd had that night and she needed it badly. Even when the strobe-like flashes came, she only had seconds to look for him. But she was sure he was in here with her. She hadn't heard any sounds though, and that worried her. She had called his name a few times, but there was no response, just a metallic echo of his name. Again, she waited for the lightning.
Her ribs ached where they had beaten her, but it was her left leg that was causing her the most trouble. One of them had struck her just at the base of her spine and now her sciatic nerve was pulsing with white-hot pain that left her gasping for air. She had tried to stand up a while ago, but her leg wouldn't support her. If she could find him, she would have to crawl to reach him.
They had left her here before darkness came, and she had passed out. When she woke up, the musty room was pitch black. She had called his name then, but could only hear eerie scratching sounds coming from under the large workbench by the door. They had both been interrogated at the same time, but in different parts of the abandoned factory, and she hadn't seen him since they had been separated. But, he had to be here somewhere; she just had to find him when the lightning illuminated the room.
Then she saw him, if only for a few seconds. As the thunder crashed, her heart jumped and adrenalin coursed through her body. The lightning flashed again, lasting longer this time, and she saw that his left arm was handcuffed to a large flywheel. He was lying on his back and he wasn't moving. She began to crawl towards him. He must be alive, or they wouldn't have handcuffed him. The pain in her leg was screaming, but she continued slowly dragging herself towards him.
The room had to be bigger than it looked, because it seemed to take forever to get to him. Finally, she got close enough to see his face in the gloom, and she reached out and touched his hand. It was warm. She let her head drop onto the cool floor, and she whispered his name, too exhausted to say it loud enough to wake him. But, she felt his hand slowly clasp hers, and she looked up as he turned his head to look at her.
"You OK?" he asked softly.
"I am now," she answered and pulled herself closer to him.
"Did they hurt you?" he asked, his voice breaking as he tried to sit up.
"Not too bad," she whispered, still out of breath from her efforts to reach him, "How about you?"
"I still have all my body parts, but they all hurt like hell," his voice catching as he finally managed to sit up, bracing his back against the cold steel of the old machine.
"Come here," he said, holding his free arm wide, inviting her to join him.
She crawled to his side and collapsed onto his chest. He wrapped his arm around her, and they both became still, their breathing slowly returning to normal. Her head rested against the soft scruff on his jaw and she could feel his breath in her hair. Then he kissed her gently on the forehead.
"I was afraid for you," he whispered.
She looked up into his face, noticing the bruising around his eyes as the lightning flashed again. The sudden clap of thunder caused him to jump and he hissed in pain. She eased up off his chest and turned to look at his body. His shirt was torn open, and she could see taser burns across his chest, and as her eyes adjusted to the dimming light, she could see his ribs were badly bruised.
"What did they want to know?" she asked, putting her hand gently on his cheek, hoping to distract him from the pain.
"They only asked questions about Callen," he answered, his voice husky and low.
"Me too," she said, "But, why? This case has nothing to do with him."
"This operation must have been a ploy to get to Callen," he answered, "And when they couldn't capture him, they took us, as bait."
"But why interrogate us about him?" she wondered.
"I don't know, but OSP must be looking for us, and if these guys didn't throw our phones onto a passing truck, Callen and Sam will know where to find us."
"All the questions they asked me were about Callen's work with the CIA," she said, "and when I told them I didn't know him then, they didn't believe me."
"They asked me about his childhood and his friends," he said, once more easing himself back against the side of the machine, "When I told them he didn't have any friends, they tasered me. So, I made up a wonderful story about his childhood, but they said I was lying and tasered me again."
She could barely see him, but she knew there was a crooked grin on his face.
"So, they must know something about his childhood," she said, "But, if they already know, why ask us?"
"Who are these guys?" he wondered, then pulled her back onto his chest. She could feel him shivering, and she wrapped her arms around his body to warm him. He sighed deeply and slipped into sleep, but was startled awake again by a loud clap of thunder.
As he settled back into her arms, he said his mother had always told him when he was a child, that thunder was just a bunch of potatoes rolling down a hill, so he wouldn't be scared. Then, in the oppressive darkness, he began to tell her other stories from his childhood.
They had never asked deeply personal questions about each other's lives, so she was surprised when he began to share childhood memories with her. She knew his early life had been painful, but the stories he told her, as they lay huddled together on the cold floor, were funny and full of the goofy things small children do. The stories lightened the gloom that settled around the abandoned machinery, and kept them both from thinking about what would happen if their partners didn't come soon. They both had no illusions about what was in store for them.
She suddenly cried out as pain shot down her leg, and he held her tightly until it eased. He began to slowly stroke her shoulder, then slid his hand up and turned her face toward his. He gently kissed her eyes, and then her cheek and she caught her breath at the tenderness of his lips. She touched his face with her hand, feeling the soft stubble of his beard and he kissed her long and softly and sweet fire raced through her body and she could feel his lips smile, and she knew he felt the same thrilling heat.
"I've wanted to do that for a long time," he whispered in her ear, then kissed her gently just beneath it, sending chills along her spine.
"What took you so long?" she asked, finally catching her breath and looking into his dusky blue eyes, barely visible in the darkness.
"I was waiting for the right moment," he said and then laughed quietly.
"And this is your idea of the perfect moment?" she asked, laughing along with him.
His response sobered them both. "This may be the only time we have," he said and then kissed her hard and hugged her tightly to his chest. She could feel his heart pounding and she placed her hand there to try and calm him.
"Do you think they'll come in time?" she said, the words sending a different kind of chill through her body. She wanted to believe she would have other moments like this with him, and she wanted him to believe it, too.
She could feel his body tense, and then he said, "Listen,"
She heard the ancient door scrape the floor as it opened. She held her breath, and felt him do the same. Tears filled her eyes as he pulled her closer to him.
"Kensi...Deeks!" they heard Sam yell into the darkness, and they both let the air out of their lungs at the same time, he with a laugh and she with a small cry. Then her tears overflowed.
"Over here, Sam," Deeks shouted, then he kissed her with a smile on his face she could see in spite of the darkness.
"What took you so long?"