I feel like this rambles ever so slightly, but here’s my “99 followers thank you” prompt for wingsofnight.
“Mixed my basil and my parsley with his cinnamon. Recipe for disaster with him moving in.” -Emily West
She hadn’t let go of his hand the entire plane ride. She’d been silent as he ushered her into her SUV at the mission, allowing him to lead her with a gentle hand on the small of her back.
She was still in a state of shock as he’d helped her change into pajamas when they finally reached her apartment. Her eyes stayed shut as he smoothed her hair as she finally lay her head down. But her grip surprisingly strong as she clung to his wrist as he stood to leave, wordlessly begging him to stay.
And stay he had. After the first few nights, Monty’s favorite bed migrated over to Kensi’s. A week and a half in, Deeks stopped living out of a go bag and brought over enough stuff to take up a shelf in the medicine cabinet and half a drawer. A shrug of her shoulders and a slight nod of her head, the only indication of her approval of the shift in living arrangements.
Back at work, she kept her head down. Following Hetty’s orders, staying with Eric in ops at first, while Nell had her partner’s back out in the field. All accepted with a nod of the head or minimal speech. Ever the good solider, Kensi Blye powered through.
And she came home at night to a man who held her when the nightmares jolted her awake, simply because she couldn’t let go. To a man who didn’t force her to talk, to open up, to do anything she didn’t want to. He held her when she broke in the dark, and pretended she was still whole in the light.
He was partner, who swore he’d be patient with her. And he was, to a fault. But just like she wasn’t the woman who asked for patience so many months ago, he wasn’t the man who promised to give it. There was a sadness in his eyes, something missing, something he’d left in the desert. She understood; she was missing the same piece.
He thought there would come a day where she’d stop asking for his help, accepting his support. That eventually, she would be strong enough to think she could be Wonder Woman all on her own again. And she worried that the darkness hiding behind his clear blue eyes would break through and she’d lose him forever.
But neither fear came to fruition. Eventually, the apartment held just as much of his stuff as it did hers. And little by little the clutter became slightly more organized. A second key was made sometime during the summer after their return.
And slowly, things began to return to ‘normal.’ Back together in the field, their rhythm back, banter sharp. The darkness in his eyes fading away a little more each time he heard her really laugh, although it never completely disappeared and she still clung to him at night sometimes.
Had Afghanistan never happened, she’s not sure where they’d be right now, certainly not cleaning out his old apartment. Packing up the last of the boxes to move them over to hers.
Moving this quickly would have been a disaster for the old them. They’d probably have waited for years until they reached this point, plowing through other hurdles along the way. Sam and Callen would probably be joking about the amount of crap they both owned as they helped them move to some condo near the beach.
But life isn’t ever what anyone expects. Over the last four years, they’d entwined themselves deeply into each other’s lives. The knots that bound them together may have been imperceptible at first, but they held strong. They’d seen each other’s demons and been there to pick up the pieces when the world came crashing down around them. Being apart, no matter for how short a time, no longer made sense.
Communication had never been their strong suit. There was no asking if this was the right decision, much like there would be no proposal down the line. Instead, a simple ring slipped on a finger and a simple nod in response. Actions always spoke louder than words with them anyway.