Slipping Through My Fingers
An NCIS: Los Angeles Fanfiction
This is the eighth story in my K/D universe, which I describe as slightly AU. The series starts with Personal Questions and the themes originally disclosed in that story are developed in each of the subsequent ones. Full details of the stories and the reading order can be found on my profile page.
This story begins immediately after Never Going Back Again ends, after the capture of Nicole Martindale, who had kidnapped Deeks and DiNozzo for her own nefarious purposes. The NCIS: LA team are on their way back to the Mission when Hetty reaches a startling conclusion…
"I don't suppose there's a possibility you could be pregnant, is there?" Hetty looked at their stunned faces as Kensi frantically began to calculate dates in her mind and then resorted to counting on her fingers. "Oh heavens to Betsy! You have been taking precautions, haven't you?"
"Not exactly," Marty said slowly and a smile crept across his face. "Not at all, actually. It's a good thing we're already engaged. All we've got to do now is set a date for the wedding." Oh my God, we're going to have a baby. Isn't that amazing?
"There might be one or two other things we have to do," Kensi cautioned. Like reconcile my mother to the fact she's going to have an NCIS agent for a son-in-law for starters. Not to mention the fact that she's not going to be overjoyed at having a pregnant daughter walking down the aisle.
"How much can there be to do? It's only a wedding. We invite a few people, talk to the priest, buy loads of champagne. I don't know why people make so much fuss about it. It's just another party, apart from the whole sacrament business."
"Yeah, about that. Maybe we need to talk about that?"
"What's there to talk about? I'm Catholic, you don't exactly have a faith but you do believe – so what's the problem?"
Marty suppressed a groan. "She's got a problem with Catholics?" he asked, trying hard not to sound surprised. Deep down he knew that whatever faith he professed, Allison Blye would have a problem. Just as she'd have a problem if he didn't have any faith at all. Basically, she just had a problem with him. Period. And it was taking all his strength not to reciprocate the feeling. "How about we leave all that for the moment, and just concentrate on the baby?" he suggested. They could talk about the finer details later on. But it was really important to him to have Father Crerar perfom the marriage – the priest was elderly now, but he'd baptised him, heard his first confession and prepared him for confirmation. Heck, one of his first duties in the parish had been to officiate at the wedding of Jack and Maryanne Brandel. Marty knew he wouldn't feel married unless it was Father John who took the ceremony.
"I'm not even sure there is a baby," Kensi protested. Please, please let me be pregnant. Please.
"But there could be? You could be pregnant, right?" It was impossible to miss the joy and excitement in his voice. I'm going to be a daddy!
"And I could just be late. It does happen, you know." She was trying so very hard to stay calm about it all, not to hope too much. I feel pregnant. I think.
"You're never late," Marty said confidently. "You've got this text-book 28 day cycle."
Up until this point, Callen had tried very hard to pretend he wasn't listening, but that had just gone where no public conversation should go. There were some things you really didn't need to know about your work colleagues, and this was definitely one of them. "Too much information, guys," he said warningly. "Way too much information."
Hetty gave him a disapproving look. "I never figured you for a prude, Mr Callen. The female reproductive cycle is perfectly natural, you know."
"So is botulism, but I don't want to talk about that either." Kensi – pregnant? I can't imagine that. Pregnant women's hormones go into overdrive, don't they? I'm not sure I'd want to be in Deeks' shoes when that happens. She's kind of volatile at the best of times.
"Can we all just stop talking about my body and what it may or may not be doing?" Kensi pleaded. "It's like I'm not here or something."
"You'd better get used to it, my dear," Hetty advised her knowingly. "Because if you are pregnant, you're going to have all sorts of people asking you intimate questions and looking at parts of you that are normally hidden away." Oh my giddy aunt – if she is pregnant, that means I'll be a great, great aunt. How can that be possible? To think that in nine months time I could be holding Marty's baby in my arms… isn't life wonderful?
"They're not hidden all the time though, are they? That's how you got into this position in the first place," Marty whispered and Kensi could feel her cheeks glowing red.
"Let's get back to talking about the wedding, shall we?" Callen felt on much safer ground here. "You've got lots to decide on. Maybe you should get a wedding planner."
"What for?" Marty looked incredulous. "Why on earth would we need a wedding planner?"
"To plan the wedding?" Sometimes Callen felt very sorry for whatever poor benighted female had been entrusted with the early education of little Marty Deeks – or Mikey Brandel, as he'd been in those days. He could just see her tearing her hair out as he sat blandly asking stupid question after stupid question, and probably managing to look misleadingly angelic into the bargain.
"Apart from the actual service, it's just another party. Okay, maybe we hire caterers, get a marquee, arrange for a band even, – but it's no big deal." I don't know who women make such a fuss about these things.
"There's a bit more to it than that," Kensi said. "Like where we have it for starters." Only a man could think you can organise a wedding in a couple of days.
Marty gave her a blank look. "What are you talking about? We said we wanted to get married on the beach, remember? And then we can have the reception back at the house." He leant back in the seat with an expression that read "sorted".
"I think my mom might want me to get married from her house."
"In Pendleton?" Marty's voice went up at least an octave and he looked completely horrified.
Yup, I was right. That went down about as well as I expected. It was almost as popular as a fart in an elevator. Oh jeez – if I am pregnant, I'm going to have to start watching what I'm saying. Or thinking. Can a baby pick up on your thoughts? If so, this one's going to be sex-mad from the minute he or she comes out of the womb. Kensi tried smiling winningly and squeezing his knee meaningfully, but it was to no avail.
"I'm not getting married at a Marine Base. No way."
"Parts of it are quite nice," she tried hopefully.
"It's still a Marine base. And that means it's full of people with bad haircuts and square jaws who go around saying "hoo rah" all day."
Oh no. I recognise that stubborn set to his mouth. Time to bring out the big guns, I think. "There is the added attraction of the beach. The "off limits to everyone except Marine personnel" beach," Kensi said slyly, knowing how much he'd always longed to surf there.
"Gibbs can get me onto that beach. And he doesn't insist I get married to him at some Marine camp first." That wedding planner's sounding better by the second. With any luck, maybe he or she can arrange for Allison Blye to contract some unpleasantly contagious disease that means she has to stay in strict isolation for a couple of months? Nothing deadly, of course. That's probably asking for too much.
"You don't have to decide anything today," Hetty counselled. "You've lots of time. There's at least two weeks before you need to start making some definite arrangements."
"Two weeks?" Kensi sat bolt upright. "How can I plan my wedding day in two weeks? I've been dreaming about this since I was a little girl and I want it to be perfect."
Marty realised with considerable horror that she looked as if she was going to burst into tears. That settled it – this wasn't Kensi. She must be pregnant – there was no other reason for her behaviour. "You take a much time as you need. And we'll do whatever you want."
"I just want it all to be magical and special and like something out of a fairytale," Kensi sniffed and the tears began to trickle down her face. "I want it to be the happiest day of our lives." She was howling now, and Deeks looked like a man being led to the gallows, Callen thought. His own wedding day had been highly practical – a swift visit to the judge and they were in and out in five minutes. It hadn't been very romantic, but then neither had the marriage. It struck his that this was an ideal opportunity to pick up some pointers for when he broached the subject of marriage with Nico, at some point in the future. He certainly didn't want to be making all the mistakes Deeks was, after all.
"Whatever you want, you can have it," Marty promised rashly. "We can even get married at Camp Pendleton if it really means that much to you." Or we could just tell Callen to keep on driving till we get to Vegas and head straight for one of those drive-through places. Father John would do us a blessing later on and we could throw a really big party. God, that sounds great. Pity she won't buy it though. Not in a million years.
Kensi smiled through her tears. "I think my hormones are starting to act up already."
And it's only going to get worse. Heaven help us. I wonder if Gibbs would take me back to Washington with him? And Nico and I definitely have to find our own place as quickly as possible. It's going to be bad enough coping with this all day at work, but I'll go mad if I have to go home to it as well. How the hell does Sam deal with it? Callen shook his head and tried to move through the midday traffic as speedily as possible. When he risked a look in the rear view mirror, he saw that they were sitting there, holding hands like a couple of kids on their way to the beach. It was actually rather endearing. But heaven help any poor kid who has Deeks for a father.
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