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Thanks @MichaelMWeatherly for the #22PushupChallenge to raise awareness for suicide prevention and the mental health issues that trouble America’s veterans.  We want to honor those that have served our country and be here for them when they need us. If you are thinking of harming yourself please call 1-800-273-8255.  But know you are loved. You are appreciated.  And what you have done for this country is not forgotten.
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The (Un)forgotten Birthday
Alternate ending to 4x11, ‘Drive’ 

“I thought it was on the eighteenth!” Kensi exclaims as her eyes flash to his and Deeks can’t tell if she’s joking or not.

“Uh, yeah, nice try.  Actually, I heard you making dinner reservations, so…” he prompts, assuming she will admit her plans knowing that he overheard her on the phone.

“That was with somebody else,” she replies, looking a little mortified.

“Yeah right,” he scoffs uncertainly, “What…are you serious?”  It hits him then that maybe she’s not kidding.  “It’s my birthday…”

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asthedayisfading  asked:

Densi, 60!

Some awful words for the lovely, perfect doctor. ;) 

It’s possible that this was the worst idea that had ever occurred to him, a work building after hours and the faint lump of a jewelry box in his jacket pocket, nerves, anticipation, and joy bubbling together in a cosmic mess within him, one that highly trained special agent Blye surely caught onto the moment he persuaded her to stay in the walls of the boatshed just a moment longer, before she left for greasy takeout and whatever trashy show was showing that night, with his luck probably one of the ones she was slowly and mischievously getting him hooked on.

“Planning on explaining?” She questioned from her stance just feet in front of him, fingertips pressing against the surface of the table to her left and the digits of her free hand nudging themselves into the pocket of her jeans.

A loose chuckle escaped his lips just as his finger dug within the confines of his jacket pocket for the small felt box that hopefully held the answer to her question.

The room where he first saw her as more than Tracey, the suspicious girlfriend/drug dealer of a dead man, the first time she was introduced as Kensi Blye. The room where he needed to first see her as his fiancée, guaranteed future, their forevers, however long that may be.

The glimmer of recognition in her eyes was clearly visible when she caught just a glimpse of the box in his fist as he withdrew it.

“This isn’t the beach,” she cocked her head, playful, nervous lilt betraying her still expression.

Jerking his head toward the wall that hid the view of the ocean behind them, he shrugged. “Close enough, but before you decide to murder me, let me explain?”

Shaking her head, Kensi nodded toward the wooden floor. “Can still do the other part.”

Looking back the part he remembered most was the faint, beautiful glimmer of tears in her eyes when he knelt one knee.

Looking back she thought that maybe she should have let him finish the question before a “yes” fell from her lips. 

The (Un)forgotten Birthday - Part 2
Follow-up to Part 1 - for the NCISLA Hiatus Fic Challenge
Word Count: 1100ish (Pt1) + 1900ish (Pt2) = 3000ish total

A/N - since is being a brat and not letting me upload this, you get it in full here instead of just a link.  Technically this goes along with my fic challenge that I posted last week changing one thing.  Because Kensi doesn’t forget Deeks’ birthday in that, technically The Box needs a new reason for existing.  But in the end, the meaning is still the same and this is also my new speculative headcanon.  If it’s not true, the writers and I will be in a fight.

kind of tags to Red Part 1 and Three Hearts

Two and a half months later – Spring 2013

“What’s in the box?”  Dave, from NCIS’s Red Team, is eyeing said box as he and his colleague, Claire, stand in the bullpen with Kensi and Deeks.

The box had shown up on Kensi’s desk about six weeks ago and despite his best efforts, Deeks has been unsuccessful in finding out what it is.  And Kensi seems to enjoy keeping the secret he so desperately wants to know.

“Wow,” he looks to her, “that is a fantastic question.  Why don’t you ask my partner…not that she’s gonna tell you.”

Attention now on her, Kensi lets out a small sigh, “His birthday was a couple months ago and I couldn’t think of anything to get him.  I finally figured it out though, and got him something he’s always wanted…more than anything else in the world.”  Her eyes never leave her partner, gauging his reaction to this revelation.

Stunned.  That’s the best way to describe the look on his face.  Kensi chuckles internally at the thought that this is the second time in a few short months that she’s left him speechless. 

Other conversation and background noise all but fade away.  In this moment, it’s just the two of them and Deeks finds himself a little bit in awe of his partner.

“You really did that?” His voice is soft and unsure.  “I thought dinner was my gift?”

Kensi shrugs and her eyes flick to the ground before meeting his again, “It wasn’t enough.”  

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Something to Talk About

NCIS LA Hiatus Fic Challenge #2
S7 Speculation:  Kensi and Deeks continue to deal with the IA investigation hanging over them.
Word Count: ~2700

“Lunch orders due in two minutes or else I come back with one of my food truck surprises for you instead!”

Kensi chuckles at Deeks’ announcement as Sam and Callen make their way back into the bullpen after spending the last hour in the gym.  It’s been a quiet day for the team and even though it’s technically her turn to do the lunch run, her partner is getting restless and offered to take over so that he can “smell the ocean air.”

As the senior agents rush to jot down what they want, Deeks looks over to her, “You sure you don’t want to come, Kens?”

She shoots him a brief glare, “You know I need to finish this paperwork.  Your paperwork, actually.”

“Hey, it’s not my fault you lost our bet,” Deeks smirks at her.

Kensi sighs, “Just go get our food, Deeks.  I’m getting hungry.”

Getting hungry?” he gives her a pointed look while he tries not to laugh, “Aren’t you always hungry?”

All she can do is roll her eyes and shrug – he’s not exactly wrong.  “Just go.”

“Going,” he winks at her and grabs her car keys off her desk before turning towards the doors.

He has been gone for twenty minutes when Kensi’s phone rings, disrupting the silence in the bullpen.  Frowning at the unfamiliar number on the screen, she connects the call and walks out into the courtyard for some privacy.

“Kensi Blye.”

Agent Blye, this is Detective Rivera.”

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