Say What?

Monday Morning

“Your mom likes me,” said Deeks as he drove them to work. He was positively beaming.

Kensi cut her eyes to him. “Yes . . . yes, she does.” In fact, she was glad the two of them hit it off so well.

“Wait! Hold the presses! Do we actually agree on something?”

“You don’t have to act so surprised.” Kensi studied the passing street scene as if she’d never glimpsed it before. They usually took this route once or twice every other week in the practice of good tradecraft. They couldn’t afford to lead bad guys back to the Mission.

She chewed her bottom lip. “She saw your stuff in the bedroom.”

They pulled up to a red light and Deeks turned to face her. He feigned shock. “Uh oh, are you going to be on restrictions because you had a guy in your room? Will you have to do extra chores? Will you have to miss the big dance because of it?”

“Oh, shut up,” she said as she playfully jabbed his shoulder. “She thinks you’re good for me.”

“Princess, that was already an established fact.” He reached over and patted her thigh.

“Gloating is so unbecoming.” Even as she said it, she couldn’t keep from smiling.

“I like her, too. She’s a cool lady. And a fantastic cook.” He studied Kensi for a moment. “What happened to you?”

A frown crossed her face. “I have other skills. When mom uses a knife, it’s to carve a turkey. And she can’t break down a gun, clean it, and reassemble it.”

“I’m not so sure. Have you ever asked her? I bet with some instruction she could.”

“And I’m betting she has no interest in doing that.”

“Like you have no interest in cooking? Really, it’s okay. At least I know my way around a kitchen so if we ever move in together, we won’t starve.”

Kensi almost choked on her coffee. “Wh . . . what?!” Her hand shot out to steady herself on the dash.

Deeks handed her a napkin from the console. “Come on, Fern. Think about it. We work together, we carpool, we hang out together in our spare time, we’ve got each other’s back, we sleep together on occasion, emphasis on sleep, which, by the way, anytime you want to upgrade from just sleeping, feel free to let me know because I’m all about upgrading.”

Kensi stared at him as if he had two heads. “That was an incredibly long run-on sentence.” Her heart thumped like a runaway horse. Her brain was about to short-circuit as it scrambled to formulate a coherent response.

Deeks smirked. “Don’t try to distract me with a grammar lesson.”

To say she was shocked was an understatement. Her and Deeks living together? An official couple? Scary. Yet everything he said was true. They’d grown close in the time they’d been paired at work and they trusted each other without hesitation.

“You sound like a lawyer making a closing argument to the jury.” Kensi paused as she attempted to gather her thoughts.

“I was a lawyer,” Deeks reminded her.

“Don’t interrupt me.” She pursed her lips. “How long have you been thinking about this?”

“From the moment I met you. ‘Damn, that is one fine-looking woman. How did Zuna hook up with her?’ That was what I thought.”

A faint blush appeared on Kensi’s cheeks. Deeks found that adorable.

“But you didn’t have a clue about me. I might have been a very, very bad girl.”

“True. But that only made you hotter.”

Instead of being flattered, Kensi now appeared annoyed. “It’s not fair. You can’t make statements like that and . . .”

“And what?”

“You’re doing it again.”



“Sorry. Kensi has the floor.” They had reached the Mission now and pulled into a parking spot in the courtyard. Deeks cut the engine.

“You can’t expect me to respond to such an outrageous idea like that on the spur of the moment.”

“Why not? Deep down, you know we would be totally awesome together.” Deeks sounded so hopeful, like a child yearning for approval from a parent or teacher. His eyes twinkled with mischief as he continued.

“Kens, even when we’re in the field, we don’t always know all the players. We don’t always know all the entrance and exit points ahead of time. We adapt as we go along. It would be the same with us.”

“I know, but . . .”

A sudden rapping on the driver’s side window caused both of them to jump.

“What the hell?” stammered Deeks.

Same stood there grinning. Deeks lowered the window. “What was that for?”

“You guys coming in? We have cold cases to work on. Just because Hetty’s not here doesn’t mean we can slack off.”

“Do you mind? Kensi and I are having an important conversation here,” said Deeks with a whine.

“About what? Whether it’s going to rain today? Because here’s your answer.”

Fat raindrops began pelting the windshield. “Give us five minutes, okay?” said Deeks.

“The clock is ticking,” said Sam and pointed to his watch. He turned and headed for the door.

Deeks raised the window and turned to Kensi. “Where were we?” They stared at each other. Kensi nervously twisted a strand of hair around her finger.

“You can’t tell me you never thought about us. . .”

“Okay, once . . . or maybe twice,” admitted Kensi. “Are you happy now?” She knew Deeks would keep pestering her until she gave him an answer. Preferably one he wanted to hear.

A smile spread across his face. “I knew it! You try to act like we’re not on the same page, but we are.”

Kensi sighed. “Fine. But this is not the time or place to explore this. Like Sam said, there are cold cases to look at.”


Eric looked up from his tablet. “You’re Richie . . . Everett?” A short, baby-faced Asian kid with spiky, black hair stood in front of him. He didn’t even look old enough for a learner’s permit from the Department of Motor Vehicles.

“I get that a lot. My mom’s Korean. She’s a geneticist and my dad’s a neurosurgeon. Maybe you’ve heard of him – Dr. Carlton Everett at UCLA Medical Center?”

“Nope, can’t say that I have. Now you can . . .”

“Anyway, my brother’s a Silicon Valley entrepreneur and my sister’s an intellectual property attorney and my cousin is CEO of . . .”

“Okay, got it. You’re from a family of overachievers.” Seriously, where did they dig up this geek? wondered Eric.

He pointed to a desk. “Sit over there. And don’t touch anything.”

“But I . . .”

“Don’t. Touch. Anything,” repeated Eric.

He tapped his earpiece as a call came in. “Go, Sam.” He listened for a moment. “Got it.”

Eric proceeded to the top of the stairs. Sam waited at the bottom and tossed a flash drive up to him. When he turned around, Richie was right on his heels.

“Hey, watch it.”

“Do we have a case?” asked Richie eagerly.

Before Eric could respond, Richie caught sight of Kensi walking in. Well, clomping in. She was still confined to the walking boot. She dropped her bag on the desk and removed her leather jacket, revealing a tight red scoop-neck tee shirt.

Richie’s eyes bugged out. “Dude! Who’s that hottie?”

Eric sighed and rolled his eyes. “That’s Special Agent Blye. And for the record, she’s light-years out of your league.”

“Hey, just because I’m short doesn’t mean I don’t get lots of action,” bragged Richie.

Eric looked skeptical. “Yeah, right.” And I’m the Pope. Deeks followed ten seconds later and plopped a box of donuts on her desk.

“She has a boyfriend,” Eric added. He knew Deeks wouldn’t mind being labeled as such.

Richie’s face scrunched up in disbelief. “Who? That shaggy guy? No way. He looks like he slept on the beach. Now he’s the one who’s light-years out of her league.”

Eric frowned. This conversation, and the whole day, was rapidly going off the rails. He turned to stare down at the kid.

“You do realize we’re armed federal agents, don’t you?”

As they stood there arguing, Deeks and Kensi went to secure their weapons in the lockers behind the desks.

“Whoa, hot babe with a gun! It just gets better and better,” said Richie. He almost hyperventilated. He turned to Eric. “Where’s your gun?”

“That is ‘need-to-know’ information and you don’t have the security clearance to know.”

Richie was unimpressed. “So you don’t have one. Bet you don’t have a girlfriend either.”

Eric stood up straighter. “The only reason you’re here is because my girlfriend has the flu. Don’t get the idea this is a permanent gig.”

He waved the flash drive in Richie’s face. “You should probably start analyzing this bank data before I decide to shoot you.” Eric turned to head back to his desk.

“Did I mention I’m a black belt in karate?” called out Richie as he trotted behind him.

Eric waved a hand dismissively. “Whatever. I need to hear the sound of numbers being crunched. Assistant Director Granger is waiting for that intel.”

Eric dropped into his ergonomically-correct chair and adjusted his glasses.

Okay, Nell is definitely a girl and she’s my friend . . . sooo technically she is my girl-friend. A friend who just happens to be a girl. Yeah, that’s my defense. But if she gets wind of this, she’ll rip out my hard drive and beat me over the head with it.

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