krazykitkat: (Kensi & Deeks)
[personal profile] krazykitkat
TITLE: Medical Reasons
AUTHOR: [ profile] krazykitkat
GENRE: Gen with an edge of UST
CHARACTERS: Kensi, Deeks
DISCLAIMER: All publicly recognizable characters and places are the property of Shane Brennan Productions, CBS Television Studios and Belisarius Productions. No copyright infringement is intended.
THANKS: To Shawn for reassurance.
SUMMARY: "Stop staring at my ass." Missing scene for 4x01 - Endgame.

He follows her to the locker room and she knows, can practically feel, where his gaze is fixed. As the door closes behind him, she turns on her heel and he has to grab her arm to avoid running into her.

"Stop staring at my ass." She punctuates each word with a jab at his chest with a pointed finger, before shrugging off his hand and stepping away.

She expects a light-hearted, vaguely lecherous, retort. He surprises her by grasping her wrist and tugging her over to the nearest bench. "Hey."

"Sit down," he says in a no-nonsense tone.

She's thrown enough by this unexpected turn of events that she does what she's told. Until he's kneeling in front of her and tries to pull off her left boot. She grabs his wrist and growls, "What the hell are you doing?"

He doesn't relinquish his hold as he looks up at her. "You're limping."

"No, I'm not." Her response is automatic, but with the adrenaline buzz almost gone, the first twinges register. She refuses to pay attention to them, being firmly of the opinion that if she ignores something long enough, it will go away. Unfortunately her partner has proven immune.

"Yes, you are, and if you don't let me take these boots off, I'm going to tell Sam."

"Fine." She doesn't need Sam's mother-henning. "Take them off."

And there's that victorious smirk. She rolls her eyes in response. She'd take the boots off herself, but she's liable to flash him in this skirt. His smirk quickly disappears as he finds they aren't that easy to remove (and she's not exactly helping).

With the boots finally off, he tests her left foot for tender spots. He rotates, flexes and extends her ankle, before working up her leg to her knee. By the time he starts on her right foot, she has become fixated on his touch. She watches his hands move over her skin, carefully inspecting every square inch, stroking up her leg... Until she yelps as he finds a sore point on the outside of her knee.

"Told you." He flexes and extends her knee. "It's twisted."

"Only a little," she replies. There's no way she's going to admit to him that it actually does hurt (or why she couldn't hide her reaction).

He grins at her. "Oh, you're more than a little twisted."

"Do you want me to hit you with the handbag?"

"Do you have an icepack in it?" He turns his attention back to her knee, searching for more tender areas.

"I don't need an icepack. I just need to get changed and get back to work." She'd be in a better position to physically take control if she wasn't barefoot and wearing a too-short skirt. Maybe if she grabs his hand and pulls his pinky back...

"Do you want Sam to notice you're limping?"

The Sam card again. Fine, she'll humour him, at least for now. Sam's got enough on his mind without Deeks 'accidentally' mentioning this non-issue to him. "How did you know?"

He lets go of her leg, crosses his hands over his chest and pouts. "I'm your partner, it's my job to notice these things."

"So you were staring at my ass."

"Purely for medical reasons." He gestures at her knee with both hands.

"Go and get the icepack, otherwise Sam's going to wonder where we are."

Deeks stands and brushes off the knees and lower legs of his pants. "Lucky Hetty's not here, she'd kill me. Now, I want you to put your leg up on the bench."

She raises her eyebrows. "Not in this skirt I'm not."

"Then take it off."

And there's that off-colour remark she'd expected earlier, combined with something in the way that he looks at her that she really doesn't know what to name. She reaches for the handbag next to her on the bench. "Handbag. Many things to throw at you."

He holds his hands up in surrender. "I'm going. Change into something more comfortable."

She can't help but watch as he walks toward the door. And while he may have been annoying her and is also a little vain, he's right. He does look good in that suit. Of course he has to turn at the door as she's looking in the general area of his ass. He coughs and she quickly glances up to meet his too-pleased expression. "Purely medical reasons," she says, wishing, not for the first time, that he didn't fluster her so easily.

"Do I need to take my shoes or pants off?"

He manages to escape before the hairbrush she grabs from the bag hits the door.
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