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helsinkibabyTitle: After the End
author: helsinkibaby
Fandom: NCIS LA
Pairing: Kensi Blye/Nate Getz
Word Count: tbc
Rating: PG
Spoilers: None
Summary: After the end, they still have each other.
Notes: for the prompt "sleeping together (non sexual)" on my Cotton Candy Bingo card.
It's well past midnight when the knock comes to his office door and before Nate can say anything, the door pushes open a crack and Kensi's head peeks through. When she sees him still sitting at his desk, she pushes the door open just wide enough to slip through, closes it gently behind her as if she's afraid of waking someone. Which, Nate thinks, she probably is - after all, sleep has been hard to come by for the last few days and if there are those in the building lucky enough to have fallen into slumber then no-one begrudges them.
He expects her to walk in, like she would have done months ago back when he was the on-site psychologist, back when a large part of his job was to prep her for missions and debrief her afterwards. She used to walk in with a smile on her face and a glint in her eye and for debriefs in particular would spend the first five minutes of any conversation debating where she was going to let him take her for a meal - "You know I talk better when I'm eating," she would remind him.
But that was then, and this was now.
Then they were team-mates, friends.
Now, he's been gone a long time and he came back just in the time for the end of the world.
Things have changed; there's no smile on her face, no glint in her eye. Her hair is pulled back haphazardly, bits escaping every which way. Her face, pale and drawn, speaks to the horrors she's seen; dark circles under her eyes betray just how little sleep she's had lately. There's a slump to her shoulders as she stands against the door, hands behind her, holding onto the doorknob as if she's fighting the urge to turn it and slip back out as quietly as she came in. He doesn't want that to happen and he's not sure if she's ever going to speak so he speaks first. "Hey," is all he says quietly, leaning back in his chair as he puts down a pen he wasn't using on top of a report he wasn't reading.
It's not much but it's enough to break the ice, to bring the barest ghost of a smile to her face. "Hey," she echoes.
"I didn't think you'd still be up."
It's a lie, and she knows it as well as he does. He can tell by the lift of one eyebrow that she throws his way. She doesn't call him on it though, simply saying, "Couldn't sleep. Saw your light from downstairs." She lets go of the doorknob, takes a slow step closer to his desk, to the chair across from him that he always used to think of as hers. (Didn't matter who else sat there - his favourite memory was of her there, feet up on his desk as she leaned back in the chair and debated the merits of chili dogs versus hamburgers.)
"Me too," he says. "I thought reading some reports might put me to sleep..." He twists his lips, indicating how well that particular plan worked out and there's a quiet huff of laughter from her as she sits down. The chair creaks under her weight and he wonders how long it's been since someone sat there. She closes her eyes as she rests her hands on the arms of the chair, flexing her fingers against the wooden handle. "How long has it been since you slept?"
Her eyes fly open then quickly narrow and he realises how shrink-y that sounded - that had always been something that drove Kensi nuts. He holds his hands up, palms facing her, in wordless surrender, and she shakes her head, shoulders slumping. "Not since... " She breaks off, can't say the words but she doesn't have to. He knows. "I've caught a few minutes here and there...cat naps. But properly? Not since the night before."
And even that wouldn't have been quality sleep, not if his own experience had been anything to go by. Two weeks of solid investigating had been taking their toll on everyone, fraying tempers and disrupting sleep patterns. When the worst had happened the next day, a terrible shock but not quite a surprise, there had been a part of him that had been almost relieved that the waiting was over, that they had something concrete to battle against instead of smoke and mirrors.
Except that when the smoke had cleared, the reality was worse than any of them had dared to imagine.
He's so lost in thought that it takes him a while to realise she's asked him something too. "What about you?"
He raises his eyebrows, lips turning up in a small smile. "Same," he admits. Jutting his chin towards the foldout couch against the far wall, he continues, "I lie down there sometimes but my mind just won't switch off."
Kensi nods, shrugging her shoulders, rolling her head as if she's stiff. "Yeah," she says and any further words she might have said are cut off when he stands, comes behind her and begins to rub her shoulders and neck. He half expects her to protest but her head simply drops forward, allowing him better access to the knotted muscles there.
He's silent for a few minutes as he works. Then, "I would tell you you're stressed, but I think you already know that."
He's rewarded by an honest to God giggle. "No shit, Sherlock."
The phrase reminds him. "God I miss those books... I had a volume of them in my apartment; I put it into storage when I went away. I wonder if it's still there?"
"I never read them," Kensi admits. "Just saw the movies..."
"If this is where you wax lyrical about Robert Downey Junior, just remember where my hands are."
He's joking but Kensi's tone is completely serious when she answers, "I could never forget." His hands still, then begin to move, more slowly this time. "You know, we never did talk about what happened... three days ago."
She could be talking about the world ending, but she's not. She's talking about what happened the last time that she was in this office, when she came barrelling in to tell him that he needed to get to Ops right the hell now, that it was happening and it was worse than they thought and when he asked her how bad was worse and she told him simply that Hetty was worried.
That was all he needed to be told.
He didn't know what possessed him at the time, still didn't now, but he remembers grabbing her by the hand and doing something that he'd wanted to do for years; he'd pulled her towards him and kissed her. He didn't know what he was expecting, a slap on the cheek, a punch in the face most likely, but what had happened was the best possible outcome - she'd kissed him back.
She'd kissed him back and they'd kept on kissing as if the world was ending and they'd done that right up until a horrified scream had echoed through the building. That scream had them jumping apart, running to Ops and what they'd seen on their screens had rendered their office interlude moot for the time being.
"No," he says softly. "We didn't."
There's a long silence and she takes a deep breath before she says anything. "Nate...did you..."
"Yes." His hands are still and solid on her shoulders, fingers pressing in a certain squeeze. "More than anything."
She is still for what seems like an age but is probably only a few seconds. Then her hands reach up, her fingers finding his and holding tight. She turns her head to look up at him, her eyes shiny with tears. "I am so tired, Nate," she whispers.
Others mightn't appreciate the magnitude of that admission, but Nate knows Kensi and he knows that it is huge. "C'mon." He gently pulls her up, leads her over to the foldout and helps her to lie down. She moves all the way over in the bed so that her side is touching the wall and he takes the unspoken invitation - not that he needed it. Lying down beside her, he takes her in his arms, her head on his shoulder, his chin touching the top of her head. Pulling a blanket over them, he kisses her forehead. "Go to sleep," he whispers and in minutes, she is.
Scant minutes later, he follows suit.
author: helsinkibaby
Fandom: NCIS LA
Pairing: Kensi Blye/Nate Getz
Word Count: tbc
Rating: PG
Spoilers: None
Summary: After the end, they still have each other.
Notes: for the prompt "sleeping together (non sexual)" on my Cotton Candy Bingo card.
It's well past midnight when the knock comes to his office door and before Nate can say anything, the door pushes open a crack and Kensi's head peeks through. When she sees him still sitting at his desk, she pushes the door open just wide enough to slip through, closes it gently behind her as if she's afraid of waking someone. Which, Nate thinks, she probably is - after all, sleep has been hard to come by for the last few days and if there are those in the building lucky enough to have fallen into slumber then no-one begrudges them.
He expects her to walk in, like she would have done months ago back when he was the on-site psychologist, back when a large part of his job was to prep her for missions and debrief her afterwards. She used to walk in with a smile on her face and a glint in her eye and for debriefs in particular would spend the first five minutes of any conversation debating where she was going to let him take her for a meal - "You know I talk better when I'm eating," she would remind him.
But that was then, and this was now.
Then they were team-mates, friends.
Now, he's been gone a long time and he came back just in the time for the end of the world.
Things have changed; there's no smile on her face, no glint in her eye. Her hair is pulled back haphazardly, bits escaping every which way. Her face, pale and drawn, speaks to the horrors she's seen; dark circles under her eyes betray just how little sleep she's had lately. There's a slump to her shoulders as she stands against the door, hands behind her, holding onto the doorknob as if she's fighting the urge to turn it and slip back out as quietly as she came in. He doesn't want that to happen and he's not sure if she's ever going to speak so he speaks first. "Hey," is all he says quietly, leaning back in his chair as he puts down a pen he wasn't using on top of a report he wasn't reading.
It's not much but it's enough to break the ice, to bring the barest ghost of a smile to her face. "Hey," she echoes.
"I didn't think you'd still be up."
It's a lie, and she knows it as well as he does. He can tell by the lift of one eyebrow that she throws his way. She doesn't call him on it though, simply saying, "Couldn't sleep. Saw your light from downstairs." She lets go of the doorknob, takes a slow step closer to his desk, to the chair across from him that he always used to think of as hers. (Didn't matter who else sat there - his favourite memory was of her there, feet up on his desk as she leaned back in the chair and debated the merits of chili dogs versus hamburgers.)
"Me too," he says. "I thought reading some reports might put me to sleep..." He twists his lips, indicating how well that particular plan worked out and there's a quiet huff of laughter from her as she sits down. The chair creaks under her weight and he wonders how long it's been since someone sat there. She closes her eyes as she rests her hands on the arms of the chair, flexing her fingers against the wooden handle. "How long has it been since you slept?"
Her eyes fly open then quickly narrow and he realises how shrink-y that sounded - that had always been something that drove Kensi nuts. He holds his hands up, palms facing her, in wordless surrender, and she shakes her head, shoulders slumping. "Not since... " She breaks off, can't say the words but she doesn't have to. He knows. "I've caught a few minutes here and there...cat naps. But properly? Not since the night before."
And even that wouldn't have been quality sleep, not if his own experience had been anything to go by. Two weeks of solid investigating had been taking their toll on everyone, fraying tempers and disrupting sleep patterns. When the worst had happened the next day, a terrible shock but not quite a surprise, there had been a part of him that had been almost relieved that the waiting was over, that they had something concrete to battle against instead of smoke and mirrors.
Except that when the smoke had cleared, the reality was worse than any of them had dared to imagine.
He's so lost in thought that it takes him a while to realise she's asked him something too. "What about you?"
He raises his eyebrows, lips turning up in a small smile. "Same," he admits. Jutting his chin towards the foldout couch against the far wall, he continues, "I lie down there sometimes but my mind just won't switch off."
Kensi nods, shrugging her shoulders, rolling her head as if she's stiff. "Yeah," she says and any further words she might have said are cut off when he stands, comes behind her and begins to rub her shoulders and neck. He half expects her to protest but her head simply drops forward, allowing him better access to the knotted muscles there.
He's silent for a few minutes as he works. Then, "I would tell you you're stressed, but I think you already know that."
He's rewarded by an honest to God giggle. "No shit, Sherlock."
The phrase reminds him. "God I miss those books... I had a volume of them in my apartment; I put it into storage when I went away. I wonder if it's still there?"
"I never read them," Kensi admits. "Just saw the movies..."
"If this is where you wax lyrical about Robert Downey Junior, just remember where my hands are."
He's joking but Kensi's tone is completely serious when she answers, "I could never forget." His hands still, then begin to move, more slowly this time. "You know, we never did talk about what happened... three days ago."
She could be talking about the world ending, but she's not. She's talking about what happened the last time that she was in this office, when she came barrelling in to tell him that he needed to get to Ops right the hell now, that it was happening and it was worse than they thought and when he asked her how bad was worse and she told him simply that Hetty was worried.
That was all he needed to be told.
He didn't know what possessed him at the time, still didn't now, but he remembers grabbing her by the hand and doing something that he'd wanted to do for years; he'd pulled her towards him and kissed her. He didn't know what he was expecting, a slap on the cheek, a punch in the face most likely, but what had happened was the best possible outcome - she'd kissed him back.
She'd kissed him back and they'd kept on kissing as if the world was ending and they'd done that right up until a horrified scream had echoed through the building. That scream had them jumping apart, running to Ops and what they'd seen on their screens had rendered their office interlude moot for the time being.
"No," he says softly. "We didn't."
There's a long silence and she takes a deep breath before she says anything. "Nate...did you..."
"Yes." His hands are still and solid on her shoulders, fingers pressing in a certain squeeze. "More than anything."
She is still for what seems like an age but is probably only a few seconds. Then her hands reach up, her fingers finding his and holding tight. She turns her head to look up at him, her eyes shiny with tears. "I am so tired, Nate," she whispers.
Others mightn't appreciate the magnitude of that admission, but Nate knows Kensi and he knows that it is huge. "C'mon." He gently pulls her up, leads her over to the foldout and helps her to lie down. She moves all the way over in the bed so that her side is touching the wall and he takes the unspoken invitation - not that he needed it. Lying down beside her, he takes her in his arms, her head on his shoulder, his chin touching the top of her head. Pulling a blanket over them, he kisses her forehead. "Go to sleep," he whispers and in minutes, she is.
Scant minutes later, he follows suit.
