Summary: An epilogue to the season 3 episode “Greed.”
Word Count: 1369
Hetty tried very hard not to laugh out loud when she saw the horrified expression on Eric’s face when she finally spoke out. It was only by the slightest of miracles that the whole vase of flowers didn’t go crashing down onto the floor. There was a very good reason why she was careful to wear rubber-soled shoes to work, and saving her feet from needless pain was only a part of it. She was well aware that her team referred to her ‘ninja skills’ but tiptoeing around the Mission provided a surprising amount of information. And one could never have too much information. You never knew when it would come in handy.
She was moving silently around her now-deserted domain when the faint strains of music made themselves heard and further investigation revealed a light shining out from underneath the gym door. Hetty decided to indulge her inner Nancy Drew and lifted up the corner of a rather fetching tapestry that hung in her office to reveal an ornate door, carved in the Spanish style.
It had long been a mystery to Hetty that her team had never explored the hidden secrets and passageways of the Mission, nor realized that there had to be some concrete reason that allowed her to traverse the place so effectively, and yet remain unseen. The inter-connecting passageways could have been purpose-built to allow silent and unseen observation of all sorts of activities, and Hetty had long made highly effective use of them and the opportunities they afforded. This particular corridor allowed her to access a small cubby-hole to the rear of the climbing wall. And with a little judicious shimmying, Hetty was soon in position, looking down from her vantage point to the gym below.
The overhead lights were off, and instead there were a few lone spotlights, creating pools of light in the darkness. The sound system was still in place, but this time the lively Viennese waltz was replaced by the hauntingly beautiful one from Eugene Onegin, that managed to speak of both love and despair and the same time. The blood began to pulse a little more quickly in Hetty’s veins as she moved closer to the aperture that allowed her to look directly down the twenty feet or so to where a couple were dancing their hearts out, in magnificent solitude. Well, almost.
“Why did Hetty say we needed to learn to work together?” Deeks complained. Hetty noticed that he must have showered and changed, for his hair was still damp, and the white t-shirt was clinging to his torso.
Would that I was twenty years younger…
“Because she thinks we spent too much time pulling in opposite directions.” Kensi certainly wasn’t pulling away now; on the contrary, she was leaning in to her partner as if he was also her lover. She also appeared to have changed clothes and her hair flowed loose, a soft cloud around her shoulders.
Why couldn’t you have let me look like Ms. Blye, God? Was that so very much to ask?
Gone were the tentative movements of this afternoon, to be replaced by a couple who moved in perfect synchronicity, surely born not only from long practice, but also from a deep and intimate familiarity. Their bodies moved instinctively together, and they danced from shadow to light and then back again without hesitation, perfectly in tune with both one another and the music.
“We can harmonies.” They were dancing much closer together than before, Hetty noticed. Much, much closer. It would be hard to get a sheet of paper between their bodies. And Deeks’ hand was low on Kensi’s back, pressing her against him. Funnily enough, she wasn’t objecting in the slightest. Quite the contrary, in fact. Her head was tilted back and she was smiling at him, looking directly into his eyes
Goodness me. It’s getting rather close in here, and unaccountably warm too. Hetty reached into her pocket, pulled out a paper fan and wafted it around her face.
“Sure we can.” Kensi’s left hand was most definitely not in the orthodox position on Deeks’ shoulder. Instead, it was cupped intimately around the nape of his neck and her fingers were toying with his hair. “We can do anything.”
“You don’t think they guessed, do you?” Deeks dropped his head to nuzzle the tender flesh beneath Kensi’s ear and Hetty felt a jolt of energy shoot through her own body.
“Not a chance.” Kensi let her right hand drop lazily down to settle on his butt, and caressed it slowly, and with the utmost intimacy. “Not after the way you kept stepping on the feet. Accidentally on purpose.”
Deeks smiled at her. “Come on. I had to put up a good show.” They were still dancing, keeping perfect time to the music and moving languorously around the gym, as if they were in their own private world. Hetty began to feel slightly uncomfortable, but could not summon up the will to leave.
“You put on a good show alright. But then you always do.” Kensi sighed as Deeks’ hands cupped her butt and pressed her firmly to his body. Hetty moved a little closer, so that she had an unobstructed view of their faces, and oh! The way they looked at one another, a look that said more than a million words ever could.
“You want to dance some more?” Deeks asked, never taking his eyes away from her face for an instant, looking so intently it was as if he thought the moon and stars rose and set in Kensi’s eyes and all the rest was a tinkling cymbal or a sounding brass – meaningless in the vast music of time they were dancing to.
“Not here. Somewhere more private.” Kensi moved sinuously in demonstration.
“Anything you say. You can take the lead any time.”
“How about we take it turn about, partner?” Finally they kissed, with Kensi’s head tilted back so that her hair cascaded down her back, and Deeks’ hands on either side of her face, his hair glowing like a golden halo in the fortuitous light. It was an embrace that had no beginning and no end and simply existed, complete and perfect in and of itself.
“How about you take me home?” Kensi’s voice was slightly hoarse, as if she did not quite trust herself to say anything more.
“I’ll take you to the end of time.” The look on Deeks’ face was almost more than Hetty could bear.
They left the gym, arms around one another and heads almost touching as they continued to talk in low voices. Hetty leaned back against the wall of her hiding place and breathed deeply. Perhaps this time she had seen rather too much for comfort.
Bugger. Now I’m going to have to pretend I don’t know. And it’s much too risky for me to ever make Sam and Callen dance together. Which is rather a pity. I would rather have liked to see Callen play the submissive role for once.
Once upon a time, Hetty too had been young and she had danced the night away in cities all over the word. But tonight she felt unaccountably old and not a little jealous as she thought of the couple walking out of the Mission and strolling hand in hand out into the soft velvet darkness. Most painful of all was knowing that Kensi and Deeks had not only their whole lives ahead of them, but a world of infinite opportunities that were just waiting to be seized. Fortune favored the bravest, and there was nothing more daring that opening up your soul to another.
I wish you all the love in the world. And may you never stop dancing.
Sometimes you could know too much and have to live with that knowledge without saying a word. Sometimes you just had to take a chance and dance through the darkness. And sometimes you had to realize your dancing days were over and a new generation had taken to the floor as the dance went on, timeless, immutable and eternal.