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A/N: A very silly little Deeks and Sam dialogue drabble.

***

Sam: Deeks why did I just get five text messages from your mom? *his phone dings* And a selfie.

Deeks, peering at Sam’s screen: Hey, she’s fully clothed! You’re lucky.

Sam, warningly: Deeks…

Deeks: She thinks Kensi and I are at a training and don’t have access to our phones.

Sam: So you sicced her on me?

Deeks: No, of course not. *he makes an expansive gesture* I just might have mentioned that the rest of the team wasn’t with us.

Sam, outraged: You’re unbelievable. *his phone dings three times in a row* And now she’s asking me to go for dinner with her. She’ll pay.

Deeks: Ooh, see if she’ll take you to that new steakhouse.

Sam: Deeks, I’m not going out to eat, alone, with your mother.

Deeks: Your loss.

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joining tumblr for the first time now is like in movies when the city kid goes to the small small small town and someone there is like “we ain’t got nona that weefee or whatever but we’s got Jimbo who yells the news and that’s good enough” and points to Jimbo who is currently asleep on his rocker

Except for us it’s like “we ain’t got no al-go-rithm but we do have haiku-bot and that one destiel screengrab that tells us the news and that’s good enough”

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A/N: A small and late Kensi and Talia fic.

***

The Sappiest

“Thanks for helping with this,” Kensi said. The table between her and Talia was covered in disassembled weapons. Talia currently had a rifle in pieces in front of her.

“No problem. Not like I had anything else to do tonight,” Talia replied. “Don’t tell anyone I said that though.”

Kensi chuckled, carefully threading a brush through the barrel of a gun.

“Where is your better half again?”

“An LAPD conference. He’s presenting on undercover tradecraft,” Kensi explained.

“Aw, how fancy. I bet you miss your little detective.” Talia made a disgusted face.

“Shut up.”

Smiling to herself, Talia reassembled the rifle and grabbed another weapon. They worked in companionable silence for a few more minutes, until Talia unexpectedly asked,

“What’s it like?”

“What are you talking about?” Kensi asked, glancing up from the gun she was diligently cleaning.

“You know—” Talia wiggled her head. “With Deeks.”

“Oh my god, is this about sex? Because I told you before, I’m not giving you any details,” Kensi said, exasperated. Talia liked to push buttons, but she also genuinely enjoyed gossip and had no problem asking extremely personal questions when the whim hit her.

“No, it’s not about sex,” Talia assured her. “Although, if you ever do change your mind on that front, I am so curious.” She winked at Kensi. “I’m talking about marriage. You never struck me as type to settle down, and you and Deeks definitely don’t fit on paper, but I’ve never seen a guy so thoroughly head over heels.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“You know what I mean.” Rolling her eyes, Talia set down her current gun to face Kensi fully. “It’s a big switch from dating to marriage. Is it everything you hoped and dreamed of?”

Kensi paused, seriously considering Talia’s question. For once, despite all the sarcasm, Talia did seem actually curious.

“It’s honestly better than I could have imagined,” Kensi told her, smiling softly as she remembered their wedding day, as crazy as it had been. “I get to spend the rest of my life with the man I love more than anything. It sounds silly, but I feel even closer and more connected to Deeks than ever.”

“Wow, that is the sappiest thing I’ve ever heard,” Talia said. “And I hate you a little bit for being so happy.”

“Hey, maybe you’ll find your person soon.”

“Yeah, right. I have no patience for marriage.” Before Kensi could even think of feeling sorry for her, Talia added, “Which is perfectly fine with me. I’m not looking for what you guys have.”

“That definitely sounded offensive,” Kensi observed.

“Yeah, it was supposed to be. I just have one more question,” Talia said, giving Kensi a sly grin. “Is Deeks as skilled with his mouth when he’s not talking?”

“Why do you always have to ruin things?”

“Hey, I had to bring balance back into the world,” Talia said with a shrug.

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If you see this on your dashboard, reblog this, NO MATTER WHAT and all your dreams and wishes will come true.

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217 | 1001

I think your partner would want you there when he wakes up.

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A/N: A Deeks and Callen dialogue drabble. References my Houseguest dialogue drabble series.

***

Callen, casually: Hey Deeks, you guys up to anything this weekend?

Deeks, just as casually: That’s highly dependent. What do you need?

Callen, rolling his eyes: Anna’s out of town for a few days, so I wondered if you’d like some company.

Deeks, pursing his lips: Uh, when you say company you mean…?

Callen: Just me.

Deeks: You do recall last time you came for a visit, and uninvited one at that, chaos ensued, right?

Callen: I promise there’s no Arkady drama going on and I will not overstay my welcome. I’ll even sleep on the couch.

Deeks, reluctantly: You promise no additional Russians shall cross our threshold?

Callen: I swear on Arkady’s most valuable jewels.

Deeks, muttering to himself: Stolen jewels. Alright, I’ll check with Kensi.

Callen: I appreciate it. *Deeks offers a smile while he texts Kensi* Oh, and while I’m over, I can fix your dining room table.

Deeks: It’s going to be a long weekend, isn’t it?

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Any time this cold and sinus headache would like to go away, I'd greatly appreciate it. 😭🤬

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“what’s posted on the internet stays there forever” is true for everything except that one piece of fanart you saw when you were 10 that changed the trajectory of your life forever. you will never find that again it is gone forever

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A/N: Caleb and Sophia are up to mischief once again.

***

Deeks: Sophia, what are you doing?

Sophia jumps, spinning around: No-ing.

Deeks, crossing his arms: Uh-huh. Is that chocolate on your mouth?

Sophia, wipes her hand over mouth and shakes her head.

Sophia: No cookies, daddy.

Deeks: I don’t believe I said anything about cookies.

*Caleb marches into the room then, a cookie in each hand. He freezes at the sight of Deeks, slowly backing out of the kitchen*

Deeks, trying not to laugh: I see you had help from your usual partner in crime. Which one of you did the climbing this time?

Sophia: Giggles and pushes a piece of cookie into her mouth.

Deeks, shaking his head: Alright, Doughnut, let’s find Croissant and get you cleaned up.

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The In-Law, Part 2

***

“How’s the orzo coming?” Kensi pressed her chin in the dip of Deeks’ shoulder, peering at the stove, covered in pots and pans.

“You tell me,” he said, scooping up a small spoonful from a medium sized pan and turning to give it to her. “Careful, it’s pretty hot.”

Kensi took the spoon, blowing a couple of times before she popped it in her mouth. “Ooh that’s really good,” she said. Kissing his cheek, she wrapped her arms around the waist as he resumed tending the pots and pans. “You know, you didn’t have to go through all of this trouble.”

“I figured it couldn’t hurt to start off on good terms for our first time hosting Whiting.” He shook his head slightly at the statement. Several days later, he still couldn’t quite wrap his head around the fact Rosa was dating Ellen Whiting’s son.

“You’re a good dad.” She squeezed him extra tight. “Because I have a feeling this evening is going to be all kinds of awkward.”

“Oh, it’s going to be awful,” Deeks agreed. He turned off three of the burners, leaving one in the back on low. “I think everything’s almost ready. Do you think Whiting drinks or would she consider that a sign of moral failing?”

“Mm, I could see it going either way,” Kensi decided while Deeks sorted through their modest liquor cabinet.

“I’ll go ask Steven.” They’d left him and Rosa in the living room to set the table—and probably take advantage of the momentary privacy to make out.

“Ok. I’ll get out the salad and fruit.”

“Hey Steven, is your mom ok with wine?” Deeks asked, poking his head into the living room, a bottle of Pinot Noir cradled in his arm. Rosa and Steven were cuddled up on the couch, watching some 90’s show.

“Oh yeah,” Steven answered with a chuckle, his eyes widening in horror almost immediately. “I mean, she likes a glass of wine after work but not that she drinks a lot or anything.”

Beside him, Rosa pressed her lips together, looking remarkably like Kensi as she patted his knee.

“He knew what you meant, Steven.”

“Yeah, I’m just going to disregard that last part and put this in the fridge.”

“I’m sorry. I just get so nervous,” Steven sighed.

As Deeks walked back into the kitchen, he heard Rosa murmuring something reassuring back to him.

Deeks and Kensi had just finished putting the last of the food in serving dishes when the doorbell rang.

“Showtime,” Deeks muttered grimly.

“It’ll be fine.” Kissing his cheek, Kensi squeezed his shoulders. “And if not, I will make sure your wineglass is always full.”

“Best wife ever.”

Rosa and Steven had already let Whiting by the time they made it out of the kitchen.

“Hi Ellen, glad you could make it,” Kensi said, going as far as to give her a hug.

“Ellen, thanks for coming,” he said, holding out his hand.

“Deeks, that almost sounded genuine,” she drawled. “And no hug?”

“Mom?” Steven gave her a questioning, slightly nervous look, picking up on the underlying antagonistic tone.

“Just kidding,” Whiting assured him quickly. Behind Whiting’s back, Rosa shot Deeks a look and he flashed her a quick smile.

They were doing this for Rosa and Steven, he reminded himself. He could keep the peace for the kids.

“Right. Ellen, would you like a drink? We’ve for water, wine, beer, soft drinks.”

“Definitely wine. In a big glass if you have it.”

“I think we can manage that,” Deeks said, genuinely smiling.

“I’ll go get drinks,” Kensi offered. “Rosa, Steven, you want anything?”

“No thanks, Mrs. Deeks.”

“I have some water, Kensi.”

“Ok. I’ll be back in a few minutes.” Giving Deeks’ arm a discrete squeeze, Kensi headed back to the kitchen.

Rosa and Steven sat back down, murmuring among themselves, leaving Deeks to make smalltalk. Perfect.

“You did pretty well for yourself,” Whiting said, looking around the room. “I didn’t really notice last time I was here.”

“Yeah, makes sense with the whole “on the run” thing.” He gestured to the chairs across from the couch. “Have a seat.”

Whiting sat down, looking a little out of place in jeans and with her hair down instead of her usual business casual attire. Hell, the whole situation was bizarre. Deeks took the remaining chair, leaving room in case Kensi wanted to squeeze in with him.

“Marty, you should show Steven your surfboards,” Rosa spoke up, nodding encouragingly. “He’s been wanting to learn.”

“Oh yeah, that would be great. I wanted to learn when I was younger, but mom thought it would be too dangerous.”

“Sure. I’d be happy to after dinner. I can even give you some tips sometimes if you want,” Deeks offered.

“That would be amazing, Mr—I mean, Deeks. Thank you,” Steven said enthusiastically.

“Suck up,” Whiting muttered under her breath.

“Hey, I love teaching kids things,” he defended himself.

“Of course you do.”

The doorbell rang again, saving Deeks from having to respond. “I’ll be right back.” He checked the security camera first, since they weren’t expecting anyone else, frowning when he saw his mom on the other side.

He opened the door, not surprised that Roberta walked right in. “Mama, what’s up? I thought you had a big date with Arkady.”

“I did, but he cancelled on me,” she explained. “So, I figured I’d spend a little quality time with my family. Plus, I ran out of beer.”

“Mom, we’re kind of in the middle of dinner.”

“Oh, sorry. Well, I won’t take long. I just need to borrow a couple beers and the copy of “Moulin Rouge” I loaned Rosa.”

“That’s not—” Roberta pushed past him, ignoring his warning.

Crap, this was not going to be good. He rushed after her, clocking that Rosa and Steven had left the room, before he focused on the inevitable confrontation about to happen.

“Marty, why is the woman in your house? She’s the cop who arrested you,” Roberta exclaimed, way too loudly.

“Yeah, I’m aware.” He exhaled softly. “Ellen, you’ve met my mother, Roberta.”

“Oh yeah, she made quite the impression,” Whiting said sardonically, eyes roving over Roberta with something between amusement and disbelief. “If it’s any consolation, when I arrested Deeks, it wasn’t personal.”

“It was a little bit,” Deeks said, unable to help himself.

“Ok, maybe a little.”

“Alright, what the hell is going on?” Roberta demanded.

“Ellen Whiting is Steven’s mom. So, Mama, I’m begging you, please do not make a big scene.”

“You’re kidding me, right?” Roberta looked between Whiting, who seemed to have settled on amusement, and Deeks.

“Nope.”

“Alright, I have the wine—and what’s going on?” Kensi stopped a few feet short of the living room, three wineglasses cradled in her hands.

“We have a surprise guest,” Deeks shared with a tight smile. Kensi wordlessly handed him the fullest of the glasses.

“I still don’t know how you let her into your house after what she did to you.” Roberta crossed her arms, glaring at Whiting with everything she had.

“Would it help if I told you we buried the hatchet a while ago and I have no current plans to arrest your son?” Whiting wondered.

“No.”

“Hey, Rosa and Steven are going to come out her any minute expecting us to be getting along,” Kensi hissed, drawing a surprised glance from both of the other women. “So, you’re going to suck it up, put on a smile, and pretend we all like each other. Got it?”

“I can probably manage that. As long as I have wine,” Whiting decided. Kensi handed her a glass.

“Fine. I’ll behave myself. But only for the kids.” Roberta shook her head, muttering to herself.

“Lord help us,” Deeks said, taking a healthy gulp of his wine.

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Me: “I’m going to be productive today”

Also me:

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Hey is it possible to get a chapter out for One wrong move?

A/N: Hey there! It just so happens I had this half written when you sent in your ask. Here you go. Thanks for asking!

***

One Wrong Move, Part 7

Kensi walked back to to Deeks’ room—he’d been switched to one with a higher level of containment—with trepidation. Her last glimpse of him, he’d been covered in medical equipment, and unconscious. The doctor said Deeks was conscious now, but who knew what condition he was in otherwise.

Thankfully, when she walked in, it wasn’t nearly as bad as she’d anticipated. A nasal cannula partially obstructed his face and he had a new IV placed in the back of his other hand. Worry about further seizures and what would happen if the new medication didn’t work filled her.

Deeks was alive, she reminded herself, and that was something to be grateful for. Grabbing a mask from station set up outside the room, she pressed the entrance button, waiting until the door made a click and buzzing noise.

Deeks turned his head slowly in response to the door opening, the corner of his mouth lifting in a glimmer of a smile.

“Hey baby.”

“Hey.” He lifted his hand briefly, the movement slow and uncoordinated. His face was flushed, eyes heavy, and he looked completely exhausted. “This is not my week,” he muttered.

“I’m so sorry, Deeks.”

“Feels like the time my mom gave me a shot of bourbon and cold medicine,” he said slowly.

“They have you on the good stuff then.” Joking felt good. Normal. At least in their world.

“Mm. Supposed to relax me and bring my—” he waved his finger in the air near his head. “Bring my temp down.”

“Did they tell you what happened?”

“Doctor said some kind of seizure. Never had one of those before. Wouldn’t recommend,” he said with a tired sigh.

“Yeah. It was pretty scary, but they said it was probably the preventative medication. They’re going to try a different one instead,” she explained. She didn’t want to tell him too much and risk upsetting him. Then again, he didn’t seem capable of getting agitated at the moment with whatever medication he was on.

“Now I feel really special. Hope it works.”

“Me too.” Kensi wiped away a tear that threatened to spill down her cheek, and he gestured her closer with a lazy wave of his hand, movement hampered by the IV.

“Hey, c’mere.”

Taking his hand, she let him “pull” her close enough she could have climbed into bed with him. She settled on leaning on the arm rail, cradling his hand in both of hers, and focused on the familiar lines and crevices along the skin.

“It’s going be ok,” he whispered, sounding the most coherent he had since she walked in the room.

“I keep trying to tell myself that,” she said, unable to stop her breath from hitching, or another tear from slipping out. “It’s hard though.”

“It’s gotta be. I have my favorite Ladybird by my side and we’ve got so much more life together.” He rubbed his thumb over her knuckles, the simple gesture reassuring. “I’m not leaving you yet, Kensi Blye.”

“You better not,” she whispered, lifting his hand to her cheek.

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Blunt Force, Part 10

***

“Alright, now follow the light. Look to the left and then the right.”

Deeks followed Dr. Lesley’s instructions, relieved when the brightness of the pen light didn’t result in shooting pain. A full week had passed since he’d been released from the hospital and while he saw little improvements every day, it felt excruciatingly slow.

Dr. Lesley stepped back and clicked off the light, reattaching it to her lanyard and wrote on her clipboard. She’d already run through several cognitive screenings, tested his reflexes, attention (Deeks had joked that was never an area he excelled in), processing speed, and short memory, among other things.

“So, did I pass?” he asked, playing it off as yet another joke.

“Your pupil response appears normal and your tracking speed is much better than it was last week. So, yes,” she replied, offering him a smile. “I’m really impressed with your progress in such a short time.”

“I’d say thanks, but, uh, all I’ve done most days is eat, sleep, and listen to audio books when it’s not too overstimulating.”

“Which is exactly what you’re supposed to be doing.” Pulling a rolling stool over with one foot, she sat, and faced him. “You don’t know how many people ignore medical advice and watch TV all day or try to start working out before they’re ready.”

“Well, I probably would be doing those things if they didn’t hurt,” he replied with a self-deprecating smile. He’d never been great at following doctor’s orders.

“I’m glad you’re listening to your body. Speaking of, are you still experiencing frequent nausea, headaches, or dizziness?” she asked.

“The nausea’s a lot better.” At least compared to the first few days. “Most of the time, I only experience nausea when I’m really tired or early in the morning. The headaches are still pretty frequent, but not as bad and the dizziness happens mostly when I move too fast.”

“Good. That just leaves your memory. Obviously, your short term and long term memory pre-2006 are excellent, but have you remembered anything from that six year gap?”

“The other night I had a weird dream about playing laser tag with my partner, Kensi,” he said with a shrug. “Halfway through, the other team suddenly had real guns and Russian accents. So, I guess it could be a memory. Or the produce of the murder mystery I’ve been listening to.”

Dr. Lesley’s eyebrows rose, and brief amusement crossed her face. “That is an interesting dream. There’s always the possibility it’s rooted in some part of reality.”

“Yeah.” He sighed, focusing on a diagram of the spinal column and its accompanying nerves instead in an attempt to control the anxiety that filled him. Brushing at his bangs, he exhaled loudly and admitted. “I haven’t remembered anything. Sometimes I try to convince myself I remember the things Kensi tells me or recognize the pictures in my apartment, but I’m, uh, I’m just lying to myself.”

Reaching out, Dr. Lesley placed her hand over his. The unexpected contact had Deeks blinking back tears; outside of Kensi he’d had very little human contact and even less comfort. Thankfully, she didn’t say a word until he’d mostly gathered himself and wasn’t in danger of openly crying.

“I know it’s disconcerting and frustrating, but you are making progress. Just like with everything else, you need to give yourself time to heal and recover,” she said, and he nodded quickly.

“Right. Thank you.”

“I have faith in you, Marty Deeks.”

“Now that’s not something I hear often,” he joked, clearing his throat a couple times as she lifted her hand and made a few more notes. “So, what are your recommendations for me?”

“I’d like you to hold off on driving for another few weeks at least. We’ll reevaluate after your next appointment in two weeks. Other than that, limit your screen time, keep to light activity, and continue talking with your coworkers and other people you’re close to. It can help stimulate some of those memories.”

“Right.” He didn’t love the continued restrictions, but reminded himself once again that he’d been in the hospital a week ago. “Thank you,” he added belatedly. “I appreciate everything you’ve done for me.”

“Of course. And if you have any questions or need anything, feel free to call me.” She scrawled something on a notepad, tore off the slip of paper, and handed it to me. “That’s my cell number. I trust you won’t abuse it.”

“I won’t.”

“Good. Do you have a ride home?”

“Yeah, Kensi’s picking me up,” he said.

“Alright. If you don’t have anymore questions today, I’ll see you in two weeks,” she told him, standing. “Make sure you stop in the office to schedule your follow up appointment.”

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NCIS LA | Densi → Kensi being… Kensi