A/N – So here we are; the final chapter. I hope you've enjoyed the ride as much as I have writing it. Just FYI, I didn't really plan on suddenly bumping this story up to an M rating, just left the option there if I wanted too, but pretty much as I was wrapping up Kensi and Deeks, they took over (as they have through most of the story. They literally have a life of their own) and ended up doing what they wanted anyway. Not that I was going to complain too much, you understand. You can skip that bit if you so wish. You should be able to figure out where to stop.
Disclaimer – I don't own any of these characters. Still. Dammit.
Owen Granger strode into Ops, the door silently sliding closed behind him. The gang was all there; Eric Beale and Nell Jones, turning to face him from their desks, their monitors still buzzing with information. Agent Blye and Detective Deeks, leaning against the centre console, their visible skin littered with a myriad of small cuts and abrasions. Hetty Lange, affixing him with an all-knowing look that had given him chills and nightmares for many years of his career. Sam Hanna, arm in a sling following his recent injury and not looking even one iota less intimidating because of it. Granger was silently surprised that the ex-SEAL was out of hospital already, but then he sincerely doubted anyone could hold the man where he didn't want to be. And Callen, leaning back against a desk, emotionless as always.
"Where do we stand, Agent Callen?" Granger said to the man.
Callen continued to glare at Granger for a moment longer, before pushing himself upright. "Francois St James was killed, along with the majority of his organisation. Without their figurehead, it's unlikely they'll pose much further threat, though we are keeping an eye on those that are still at large."
"And the SEAL team?"
"Fine," Sam replied instead. "Given another couple of minutes, they'd have been out of the Huey, spoiling for a fight."
"They sound like they're upset they missed it."
Sam nodded. "Especially when they heard why they'd been targeted. SEALS don't take that sort of thing lying down."
"Good." Granger then turned to the two computer whizzes. "What about the OSP? Are we compromised?"
"No," replied Eric without even missing a beat. "There was likely to be some news footage, but Hetty managed to wrangle a deal with the chopper crew before it went out live. And a small virus I uploaded to the servers should make sure it never sees the light of day."
"I've done some deep searches," said Nell, taking up the debrief. "As far as I can tell, there's no mention of us out there."
"How sure are you?"
"Pretty sure," replied the redhead. Granger knew to take her at her word; with an IQ like hers, 'pretty sure' was other people's 100% sure. He turned to their liaison. "Detective?"
"I've put out word to some of my contacts in LAPD. They've leaned on their informants. It looks like St James' group kept it all to themselves. We don't have anything to worry about."
"And those of his group that survived," added Kensi, "didn't know what this place was. They'd been told they were attacking a rival gang. They still don't know, but they're going to be spending too much time in GitMo to worry us anyway. Raymond Carter included."
Granger nodded. It seemed their base of operations remained secure, but only time would truly tell.
"And Agent Dorsett?" he asked, after a moment.
"No sign," said Callen. "At this time, we assume that he was tortured for information and then killed. But we're not going to stop looking."
He didn't respond. Long seconds passed. Finally, Hetty spoke up. "Is everything alright, Owen?"
Granger shook his head, focussing on the present again. "Yes. It's just… I've known him for a long time."
"We are still looking," repeated Hetty.
"Thank you," said Granger. "All, for everything. You've done great work today, taking down one of the biggest arms dealers in the world, and preventing a major threat to this nation's armed forces. You should all feel very proud of yourselves."
He nodded then, turning on his heel and exiting.
After raiding the fridge for the last beer – she should have picked some up on the way home, but she had other things on her mind at the time – Kensi flopped down on her coach and flipped on the TV. Infomercial, news, infomercial, infomercial, documentary. So many channels, and not one reality TV show on? How was that even humanly possible? She cracked the beer open on the side of her table, before plopping her bare feet up on it, wiggling her toes. It was good to have them out of her shoes.
The expected knock on her door came later than she had imagined/hoped. Kensi forced her heart to stop fluttering before she finally pushed herself up, padding her way silently towards the door. She flicked the curtain aside; it was Deeks.
She cracked the door, taking him in. Dishevelled hair, as always. Scruffy beard, as always. Grin and sparkling blue eyes, as always. Hands, clutching… wait.
"Where's my beer?" she asked, actually pouting.
He grinned back. "Well, it sounded like it was urgent, when you asked me to come over. So I rushed right here after I'd fed and walked Monty."
"You know the deal, Deeks; no beer, no entry."
"Entry to what?" he grinned.
"Oh, come on," he whined, a half smile on his lips. "Can't you make an exception? Just this once?"
"Nope," she replied, trying to maintain her composure. Just seeing him again, even after just an hour, was putting her off balance. It didn't help that they'd both stepped forwards, and were now less than a foot away from each other. She could feel the tickle of his breath on her face. "You can go now," she said, voice quivering.
Deeks' face fell. "Oh," he said. "Oh, okay, I just… sure, sure. No worries. I'll see you tomorrow?" He tossed her a wan smile, turning around before she could even reply, and striding back towards the street.
"Deeks," she called out after him, shocked at his sudden change in demeanour, his rapid exit from the front of her house. She started to move towards him – when something cold and solid banged against her bare foot. Several something, jangling together on impact. She glanced down at the case of beer he'd left on the floor, just out of sight of her door.
She looked back up. Deeks was watching her, the faintest hint of a smile playing on his lips. Kensi scooped the beer up, heading back into the house, but leaving the door open wide. A few seconds later, Deeks wandered in behind her, and almost immediately started roaming nonchalantly around her living room, picking up random sheaves of mail, the book she was half reading.
"Sit down," Kensi said, voice forceful, gesturing towards her coach. As he sat, she stored the beers in the fridge. She closed the fridge door, and a sudden thought struck her. She rubbed her fingers between the centre of her eyes, trying to massage the thought away, but it was there now. And she knew what she had to do.
Deeks looked over as Kensi made her back into the living room, dropping herself almost bonelessly onto the coach opposite him. Quite opposite him, in fact, Deeks realised. Like, the other side of the coach, with a good deal of distance between the partners, knees drawn up before her and arms wrapped around her legs. Her smile was gone, replaced with a solid resolve. And, unless he missed his guess – which he didn't; nobody could read Kensi's moods like he could – a faint touch of sadness.
"So, uh," he began, trying to sound more comfortable that he did. It was a lie of course; his whole body felt like it was burning, and shivering; goosebumps pebbled his bare arms, the hairs there standing at attention. His heart raced in his chest, threatening to explode from his ribcage without a second's notice. He schooled his hands from shaking long enough to take the now-opened beer from Kensi. The cold glass was refreshing, given how his skin felt like it was dipped in molten lava. "Is it later now?" he finished.
"Deeks," she said.
"It's just, you know, when you said 'Stop by later'…"
Kensi interjected herself over the top of him; "Can we not do this?"
"Do what?" he replied, sensing the change in the air. Was it just his imagination, or was he having flashbacks of when they were first made partners, all those years ago?
"There's nobody around, Deeks," she said. "You don't need to try and make me uncomfortable, to embarrass me."
Deeks face was blank, to match his mind. "I don't…" he began.
"You know, the game we've been playing over the last couple of days, trying to one up one another? There's nobody here, you don't need to do that. You don't need to flirt with me to pass the time either."
"To pass the…?" He couldn't believe he was hearing this. Not now, not after everything they'd… No, no, it wasn't going to go this way. Yes, he knew his partner, and he knew when she was running from something. And this? This was far too big, far too important – to him, to her, to them – for him to allow her to do that. And how did Kensi run from things? She changed the subject, or came at it from a different angle. Well, to hell with that. There was only one way they were doing this, and that was in a straight line. His eyes locked with her. "Kensi, do you like me?"
She blinked first, mouth open. Finally, she swallowed. "You're my partner, of course I like you."
"That's not what I mean, Kens, and you know it."
Silence. Another Kensi Blye special. And another thing he knew how to get around.
"I'm not going anywhere 'til I get an answer, even if I have to camp out on your coach from now until the end of time," he said. "Question stands."
"Well, what about you?" she shot back, voice and emotions rising.
"Don't deflect the subject, Kens. I know all your tricks."
"Oh, so we can't talk about your feelings, but you want me to talk about mine?!"
"So you do have feelings?"
Kensi slammed her mouth shut, biting off whatever instant response was going to come. "I did not say that," she said, eventually, a little meekly. Then followed it with, "No. Yes. Maybe. Ugh, I don't know, alright? I just don't know. I didn't know the other night when I was dreaming about you, I didn't know yesterday; I didn't know today when I was thinking about kissing you but didn't. I didn't know when we were playing our little game the passed two days. When we were doing whatever it was we were doing… I don't know. I don't even know if it was just a game or… I don't know what happens if one of us loses. What happens then?"
"You were going to kiss me?" was all Deeks could manage at that moment.
Kensi closed her eyes, shaking her head to swallow the laugh. "Right, cause that was the important part."
"Kens, I…" he started, but the words seemed to die in his mouth. He swallowed, trying to bring some moisture back to his lips. Then, like a bursting dam, he gabbled; "You're not just my partner, Kensi. You're more than just my best friend. You're my favourite person in the whole world. There's a reason I call you Sunshine; cause that's what you are to me. You're my shining light. You're the reason I wake up in the morning, the reason I can do my job. You're the thing that keeps me tethered here, and if that's too much for you – "
Nothing else came out, and he turned away, breaking contact with those eyes that threatened to sweep him away. Rubbing his own forehead, Deeks rose, almost staggering towards the door. His head swam; he felt drunk, but he hadn't even touched his beer. He couldn't do this. Not right now. God, how stupid was he? He'd totally misread their whole relationship. Guess I don't know my partner was well as I thought I did. She'd viewed it as a game, just something to while away the long hours of their jobs, and was running because he was…
Deeks paused, one hand on the door handle, when her own hand rested on his shoulder.
Gingerly, she reached out, taking the bottom of his jaw in tender fingers and turned him back to face her. She smiled, sadly. Deeks recognised the look instantly and his stomach plummeted. Here we go, he thought. Time for everything to get ruined.
"I've lost so many people in my life," she said, voice trembling and barely above a whisper. "First my father, then Jack. And each time, it's broken me. But if I lost you – if I lost you, I know that it would kill me."
He thought about protesting, about telling her that he would never, ever, leave her. But he couldn't do that to her, couldn't make promises that were outside his power to keep. There was no way of telling what would happen tomorrow, or next week, or fifty years down the line.
"So you're just not going to try?" he asked instead, voice cracking.
Kensi's heart broke. A thousand words flashed across her mind, a million things that she could say to him, to take away the hurt that ached across those sad eye. A million things, and she rejected them all. Instead, she leant forward, pressing her lips forcefully against his, wrapping her arms around the back of his head to draw him closer. He blinked, almost pulling back in surprise, until he returned the pressure, hard, strong, and meaningful. His hands found her waist, and suddenly he'd pushed her back against the wall. There was such fire, such need, in the touch of his lips.
Oh God, she thought. They'd kissed before; a few times in real life, mainly cover kisses and simple brushing of lips; and a dozen times in her dreams besides. But all of them paled in comparison to this, to the touch of his lips on her, to the gently rub of his stubble against her skin. This was real.
Electricity coursed through her body, so strong, so powerful that she thought for sure her hair must have been standing on end. But still she wanted more. Her mouth opened, inviting him inside, and he took the opportunity, their tongues meeting and encircling each other. Breath was ignored, forgotten. Neither of them needed it, all they needed to survive right now was the warm press of the other's flesh against their own.
A moan escaped her mouth, through the locked lips, followed swiftly by his name; "Marty."
She raised a leg, wrapping the heel and calf around the back of his thighs and pulling him closer, until his weight pressed her against the wall with even more force. Where their hips connected, warmth was spreading, like a raging forest fire that she had no intention of putting out. Her hips began to move, swaying slowly back and forth, side to side. Grinding against the hardening she felt on him.
Her breath grew more laboured now, as his hands began to skim softly up and down her ribcage, sending fresh waves of sensation racing across her frame, and more moans slipping out passed his kiss.
Somewhere, she became aware that he was saying something around the kiss too, but the pounding of her heart, thick in her ears, was drowning it out. She broke contact, burying her head against the crook of his neck and continuing her kisses there, and she realised what he was saying. Me. My name!
Against all possible logic, given what they were doing, that one simple word repeated brought fresh heat, this time to her cheeks and the tips of her ears. Swiftly, frantically, she dropped her arms from around his neck and grabbed onto the bottom of his Tee, tugging it upwards. He pulled back a moment, stopping those wonderful hands from tracing the curve of her hips for what seemed far, far, too long and raised them above his head, letting her pull the T-shirt fully off his frame. She dumped it, unceremoniously, on the floor besides them.
She pushed him back roughly with one hand, breaking contact fully, grinning wildly while she admired him. She'd seen him topless before, of course. So many times, undercover and some otherwise. But there was just something about now, about this situation that… Good God. His form was so lithe, so compact. A swimmer's body, a surfer's. Not too bulky, but just right. Broad, strong, shoulders. Six pack, cute little hip dents. Every little curve of his torso, every bunching of muscles, only fed the rampant fire that seemed to threaten to combust her at any second.
He smiled wryly at her, wiggling his eyebrows. "You see something you like?" he asked, playfully. Kensi bit her bottom lip briefly, before arched an eyebrow of her own in return. She continued to trail her eyes up and down his torso for a second, as if considering.
"Hmmm. I've seen better," she replied, trying to keep the grin off her face.
His mouth opened adorably in shock, before he snorted. "Yeah, like you've got anything better under that shirt."
"Why don't you come and find out?" she challenged.
With a throaty growl, he stepped forward, grabbing her arms and pinning them out wide to the wall behind her. Their mouths met again, passion and desire still there. She squirmed, rubbing her groin against his once more. Then, finally, his hands released her wrists, and he began to work at the buttons of her shirt. A moment later, he pulled back from the kiss, turning his attention down, his jittering fingers and thumbs struggling against the top button.
"Really?" he said to the reluctant button. "What did you use on these things, superglue? Am I being Punk'd?"
Kensi threw her head back and laughed; a rich, joyous laugh. A laugh that turned quickly into outraged giggles when he grabbed her shirt by the collars and roughly ripped it apart, revealing the black lace bra beneath.
"Hey," she teased. "That was my shirt."
"I'll buy you a new one," he said, as he slipped the sleeves off her arms and dropped the shirt down next to his own. "Not that you'll be needed it for a while."
She hmm'd in anticipation. Now, he stepped back, cocking his head to the side, eyes trailing across the curve of her hips, her stomach, up to her cleavage and then finally back to her eyes.
Deeks pulled a face. "It's alright, I guess."
"You guess!?" she said, shocked, outraged, but still amused.
"But I think I know what the problem is." Without another word, he reached out one hand, and it disappeared behind her back, where he did… something? Really? One handed? And suddenly she felt the support of her bra loosen. It dropped free, revealing her bare breasts, her already erect nipples. She flushed again.
"Okay," he finally breathed, jaw hanging slack, eyes drinking in her slender frame and soft curves. "Wow, okay indeed. That is – you know, I reckon we might be about equal now."
"Shut up and kiss me," she said with a shake of her head, and a smile on her lips.
And he did, pinning her back against the wall, then nuzzled kisses against the soft curve of her neck, trailing them up and down to her collarbone, electing fresh sighs from her lips. Nipping the flesh where her pulse raced, setting it fluttering even more, before soothing it with more kisses. One hand following the shape of her breast, squeezing it, caressing it. Circling the nipple with his fingers and causing flashes of lighting to arch across her spine. Her own hand dropped, reaching in between them for the stiffness between his legs. She stroked urgently up and down, feeling it twitching and straining against the confines of his jeans. A shiver echoed across his entire frame, and she felt the breath catch in his lungs.
She smiled, pleased at the effect she was having on him. It wasn't the first time she'd been in this position, but there was just something about this, something magical. Something that she knew she would never be able to put into words.
Her hand slipped up, trailing across his abdomen, feeling the muscles there bunch under her touch, before dropping down again gently and grabbing a hold of his belt. As she began to tug against it, his own hand dropped, grabbing hers and pulling it away.
"Not yet," he breathed around the kisses that didn't seem to have stopped, and certainly hadn't decreased in the slightest. If anything, it seemed to Kensi that it had only increased in urgency. Now it was his hand that reached out, pulling at the leather strap of her belt and loosening it. There was a pop as the button on her jeans came free, followed by the metallic rasp of the zipper. Using both hands, he spread the jeans apart, over her hips. She wiggled her ass, swaying her legs back and forth, until the material had slipped all the way down to a tangled mess around her ankles. Gingerly, so as not to over balance, she stepped out of one leg, before kicking the other leg up and sending the jeans flying across the living room, where they collided with a lamp.
They both looked over at the smash, seeing the shards of lamp shattered on the floor. Deeks turned amused eyes back to look at her, and she shrugged. I never liked that lamp anyway, she thought, grabbing him by the unruly hair atop his head and pulling him back to her lips.
All that remained on her now were a thin pair of black panties. Kensi blushed again at the thought. But not as much as when his hand slipped in the front, passed the fine clump of hair, and began gently stroking. If her breath had been ragged before, it was almost impossible to breathe now. It came in clutches; short, sharp bursts, a fresh shiver of pleasure burning across her flesh with each one. Softly, he slipped one finger inside, and upon feeling that she was already more than wet already down there, following it with another. They curled backwards, rubbing inside her, slick with her pleasure. The walls of her muscles tightened against his firm, thick, fingers. Her knees weakened, threatening to buckle, and it was only his weight against her that kept her upright. She groaned, again and again, curving her hips forward and trying to get as close to those fingers as possible.
He lowered his head, cupping her breast with his free hand and peppering small kisses across the soft skin. Gently, almost lazily, he began to trace his tongue across the mound, leaving a trail of saliva and sensation in his wake. The circles became smaller, closing in on the nipple, until his tongue flicked back and forth across the hardness, sending more jolts racing across her, smashing against the rising ecstasy his fingers were causing in her groin.
"More," she heard herself moan. "Harder. I…"
He opened his mouth, resting his teeth on the nipple and applying just enough pressure to… "God!" she cried, arching her back uncontrollably. Her hand found the strands of his hair, tightening into a fist and pulling.
He paused, unsure of her intentions.
"No," she whined. "Don't stop. Don't you dare stop."
He took her words as a command, and returned his mouth and fingers to their wondrous tasks, not minding that she was practically tearing his hair from his head in her mounting pleasure.
An eternity passed, an eternity where she felt she might explode at any second from the heat that rose through every sinew of her body, that tightened every muscle almost to breaking point. An eternity she only counted by the soft licking and nibbling at her nipple, and the stroking motion of his fingers deep inside her. She couldn't breathe, air trapping itself in her lungs and never reaching the wide smile of her mouth. She was so close to the edge, so very, very close. But she couldn't go over, not right now, not without him by her side.
"Deeks," she managed, somehow. "Wait, wait, do you - ?"
"One step ahead of you, Princess" he panted from around her swollen breast. He stepped back, visibly trembling, digging into his pocket and tugging free his wallet. He pulled the small square package free, and tossed the wallet over his shoulder with a cheesy grin. As he slipped loose his belt – taking care to place his Beretta on the nearby windowsill –, kicking his sneakers off and sliding his jeans down, she busied herself removing her sodden panties. She glanced down, saw the twitching mass beneath his tight black boxers, and smiled coyly again.
You don't get to have all the fun, she thought to herself, grabbing for the foil square and plucking it from his grasp before he could react. With one hand, she lifted it to her mouth, tearing it open with her teeth, while the other eased his manhood from the boxers. It twitched a greeting at her, slick already at the tip from his rising excitement. She stroked it gently, feeling it quiver with anticipation beneath her touch. Their eyes locked again, and Kensi saw that the pure animal heat had faded a little, replaced by wonder. Without breaking contact, she slipped the condom on him, then eased herself forward. Gingerly, she shifted onto him, allowing him entry. Her leg came up again, wrapping once more around the back of his thighs and pulling him towards her. Her mouth opened, a soft cry ripping itself from her lips as he buried himself inside her, and he swallowed it with a kiss.
With her shoulders to the wall, and hips arched towards him, she rested one hand on his shoulder for support, while allowing the other to lounge above her head. Some small part of her would have smiled had she realised she was presenting her armpit to him. But that thought never even crossed her mind.
Their eyes didn't waver as he drove himself gently all the way into her, all the way to the hilt, before pulling back and driving home again. Her jaw locked tight, unable to move, unable to communicate the pure pleasure that flowed across her body in wave after wave. Slowly at first, but soon his measure quickened and the moans and sighs that came from his lips matched her own. Sweat laced both their bodies, intermingling until neither could tell whose was whose. And soon, that went for their bodies too.
The sensation rose within the part of the mass that still identified itself as Kensi Blye, swiftly building, more and more than it had before. She couldn't believe there was more to come, but each passing stroke only served to prove her wrong. And still, their eyes remained entwined. He must have seen something in hers, then, because one hand dropped from supporting her hips and sought out her nub above his pounding cock. He began to circle his thumb on it, round and round and round and round, fast and firm, bringing her ever closer to orgasm. Finally, her body could stand no more, and she allowed herself to release with a cry of his name. "Marty." Stars and bright lights danced in her vision. From the look on his face, the odd twisting of his features, and the way his weight slumped against her, she knew that her explosion had triggered his too. The look, she thought, was oddly hot as hell.
They sank together into a heap on her floor, a mingling of limbs, panting as one, both shattered and spent. Kensi's whole body sang with vibrations, twitching involuntarily as he traipsed an idle hand over her naked frame.
"See," he purred after a moment. "I told you my body does wonders."
She hit him.
"Ow," he laughed. "Really? Right now, you're gonna do that right now?"
She shook her head, sighing contentedly, before wrapping her arms around his neck and dragging him close, nuzzling against the crook of his neck. She draped her leg up, over his hips. Her eyelids flickered closed. They lay there like that a moment longer, too sated to even move, before she arched her neck over, gazing towards the rest of her apartment. "I can't believe we didn't even make it to the bedroom," she said.
"Yeah, like I could have waited the ten minutes while you cleared the junk off your bed," came his reply.
"God, Deeks," she said. "Does your mouth never stop moving?"
"Only when it's got something better to do," he replied, with an impish smile.
She grinned back, and their lips met once more. The kiss was different this time, softer. The raw hunger was gone – for now at least, she admitted happily; it would return – replaced with passion, and affection, and another word that flickered warmly at the back of her mind, letting her know it was ready when she was.
They were together twice more that night, laughing and playing, and exploring every inch of the other's body with hands and mouths – and, needless to say, it was certainly "Later" during those events, and it was good – but still not getting any closer to the bedroom than her sofa. Tomorrow, of course, would be different. Tomorrow, they'd be back to work. And what that held for them, for their partnership – their 'thing' – well… well, they'd figure that out.
They always did.