Post by jo on Dec 2, 2009 10:13:56 GMT -5
Day Off
Author: strangespark
Title: DAY OFF
Rating: T
Fandom: NCISLA
Disclaimer: I don’t own any characters from NCISLA. Any others are my own creations, and any resemblance to people living or dead is purely coincidental.
Pairing: Kensi/Nate
Summary: A Kensi/Nate (they really, really need a couple name, yet all that comes up is KATE) fic. Based on the “Day Off” LA Prompt. Kensi and Nate spend a day at the park. Of Course, this being Nate and Kensi, there's a car fight, eye quirks, disses, trees and of course, Kisses!
Feedback: Please leave all feedback in this thread or PM me.
Author’s notes: Anyways, just a fluffy fic with a Nate/Kensi ship- (you've been warned, so if you don't like, don't read)! because I'm not realy liking my old favorite ship, Tiva. Rated mostly for the kissing thing
Nate and Kensi's Day Off
“You ever cut in front of me again, your insurance and your lawyer are gonna regret it, jerk!” Kensi shouted over her shoulder, crossing the manicured park lawn, attracting quite the audience as she proceeded to flip off a middle-aged man dressed in a too-short soccer team windbreaker, struggling with a cooler in his trunk.
“Yeah, you're gonna get smacked around by a chick in flip-flops if you don't get your fat butt over here and apologize! You know what, I bet you're the reason why America's obesity rate is skyrocketing, fatso,” she raged. Several teenage girls licking sherbets on a bench giggled into their sticky fingers; while a young mother, despite covering her toddlers ears, chuckled and grinned at Kensi as she walked by.
Nate winced. He was watching her from above, perched on the park's largest tree, mostly hidden by it's low hanging branches and a playground built in the thing's shadow. He'd loved coming here as a kid, racing to the top with his friends. So what if LA Parks and Rec had once put up a fence to keep a cap on broken arms in the ER? Nate was, for all of Callen and Sam's “sissy psychologist” jokes (he had yet to find suitable revenge for shrink wrapping his entire office), actually quite agile. He had yet to be in the ER for more than a consultation, after all.
“What did you say? So we're gonna bring up the eye thing again, Huh?” Kensi was going nuts, her hands curled into fists by her side. If she hadn't been so angry, today's combo of blue-and-green plaid shorts, a light brown tank top, flip-flops and a pretty aqua barrette in her hair would have been cute as those fuzzy little stress balls with googly eyes Eric had pointed out the last time Hetty had sent them shopping. Date jokes aside, Eric had terrific taste in shorts (go figure) and the dusted brown cargoes and vivid blue T-shirt Nate wore now were on the surfer's dime and discretion. Nate lowered himself a couple more branches and lunged off his perch, hearing the echo of his mother's voice cry “Nathan Getz! That's dangerous! No apple pie for you!”
He really did miss that pie sometimes.
By the time he crossed the park's beautifully maintained cobblestone square, Kensi and Soccer Dad were engaged in a heated argument, most of which was inaudible from the noise of the surrounding teenage crowd's loud shouts of “OOOOOOOOOWWWNED!” whenever Kensi landed her verbal uppercuts. She'd told Nate once, while they were in mandatory self-defense class, that her dad had a saying about fights. The first blow was landed with the first word out of your mouth, not the first punch from your fists. Nate pushed to the front of the crowd, amusing himself by trying to imagine the situation as a fistfight. Soccer Dad would have been a bloody pulp.
I should really be the responsible one... he thought, though Kensi's diatribe on McDonald's was a bit like a Micheal Moore and Seth MacFarlene on crossover Overdrive. Irresistible. Eventually, Kensi fixed the man with a predatory glare and headed off in the opposite direction.
“If all that trans fat hasn't made you deaf, I have a meeting to keep,” Kensi said simply, hips swinging as she locked eyes with Nate.
“What, with your Parole Officer?”
“With my shrink,” she giggled.
Nate and Kensi walked down the path, switching from cobblestone to packed dirt as they headed towards the picnic tables shrouded with trees.
“I brought food,” Kensi told him, her tongue flicking to her upper lip. “It's chicken strawberry salad and fries.”
Nate regarded her with a look of feigned surprise. “Since when can you cook?”
“Ugh, it's salad. You don't cook, you mix - and even I can do that. Hell, even Mace could do that!” she laughed.
“You ever hear from her, Kenz?” Nate knew they'd been close, and Macy's sudden reassignment along with Callen's brush (more like confrontation) with death had been tough for her, all so quick and close together. Kensi shook her head, her goofy smile fading.
“Kensi, I know the perfect place to eat,” he suddenly said, hoping she couldn't see through his quick-save tactics.
She's a girl, man, what do you think? He led her quietly to the tree, took the slightly oversized brown bag from her hands and leaped through the branches until only a sliver of his face and the gleam of his smile was visible.
“Kensi, come on! You can see everything from up here!” he called, half expecting her to already be halfway up. Yet with a quick glance down, Nate realized she was still on the ground, staring up at him with a goofy look on her face.
“Hey Nate!” she shouted up, cupping her mouth like a little girl. “Hey, Nate. I don't know how to climb trees!”
Nate just laughed.
“Seriously? You're like, an NCIS Agent and I'm the sissy rip off of Callen's favorite show. The one with the anthropologist, right, the real pretty one?” he joked, in total disbelief. Of course, none of it was true. It was a total contradiction to her profile, not to mention highly implausible. “Come on, Kensi, I promise I won't push you off.”
Kensi sighed and leaned and against the base of the tree.
“Okay, Nate?” she asked, crossing her arms across her chest. “When I was five, my brother climbed this one tree in Arlington, okay? In the Base Commander's backyard. Dad told me if I ever tried climbing a tree, he'd personally kick my ass the marine way. So, I didn't get myself beat up trying to do it.”
“Oh...,” Nate groaned, thankful that the Psych board's evaluations were yearly, not everyday. More often than not, especially with Kensi, he failed miserably. Nate leaped off and landed a few feet in front of her, the bag of food held in his teeth. He shrugged and touched her shoulder lightly.
“Um, okay, what happens if you need to go on assignment in a tree?”
“I report Hetty for animal cruelty.” They both had to laugh at that one.
“Kensi, I swear, it's easy. Look, I'll give you a boost, okay?” Several seconds later, Nate regretted the offer with Kensi's heel halfway up his nose.
“This sucks...,” he muttered.
“You offered,” Kensi grunted back, hanging on tightly to the branch above her head. Nate nodded, letting her nowbare feet search for a foothold below.
“Yeah, that's it, just go from one little notch to the next...,” he sighed, wiping the spit from his mouth as Kensi carefully went from one branch up to the next in tiny swing-jumps like a toddler eager to prove themselves on a playground ladder.
“Hey, it is actually nice up here.”
Nate heard his favorite OSP-er chuckle, her hair blending it with the branches, making her look like Kensi Blye, Tarzan Girl. Nate's favorite Disney film was Tarzan...
“Nate? Get you butt up here! You have the food, which by the way, I bought!” Kensi shouted, too late to catch her little slip as Nate dissolved into (manly, of course) giggles.
It had been slightly awkward at first, trying to balance on the same forked branch, though Kensi had been reassured enough by Nate's promise that Fat Richard, one of the local kids who'd weighed at least a good 200 pounds at age fourteen used to sit here all the time. She chewed on the end of one greasy, limp fry, legs across Nate's lap, leaning on a branch, watching life go on below them. Kensi listened to Nate's breath, whispering through the leaves in between bites of salad. They let the bag float away in the end, spiraling to the playground's swings and up around the little ice-cream stand.
“Litterbug,” Kensi shot at Nate with a slight grin as he watched the bag float up and smack Soccer Dad in the back of the head. He turned his attention back to her and shrugged.
“Knowing that you go on an eco-phase every April, that bag is probably at least 80% biodegradable. No worries,” he replied. Kensi giggled, crossing her bare legs at the ankles over one of Nate's pockets.
“Hmmm. Well, I guess a couple of penguins needed to die anyway.”
Nate shifted to dangle his feet into thin air, holding Kensi's arm tightly to make sure she didn't lose her balance and come crashing back down to earth. Neither she nor Hetty would forgive it, and the OSP was pretty lonely with nobody to talk to. Eric would probably get a chuckle out of it, though.
“Um, Nate?”, Kensi whispered, a slightly uncomfortable look across her face. “Uh, isn't this kinda cliché, you with your hands on me in a park, up in a tree?”, she said hastily. Nate instantly pulled his arm back.
“Oops.” Kensi seemed to waver there beside him for a second, before she gripped the bark below them and shakily sat. Both of them were used to the jokes, the off-handed little office banter remarks. Nate had his million excuses lined up, while Kensi simply discounted it. They were purely professional and just happen to enjoy each other's company. Having to explain it again and again wasn't exactly the highlight of either of their days.
“Actually, Nate, is it okay if I just hold on to you?”, Kensi said in her utterly random way, the product, Nate's profile would indicate, of years of playing what he called Adapt or Die - either speaking up or being punished for it. He nodded, mesmerized by the way the light breeze further tousled her hair, kicking off sunny highlights in the stray strands.
“Yeah. Fine.”
To Nate, it couldn't have gotten any more perfect than watching the waves in the distance, the chatter of children washing against him as the sun burned brightly in the sky and Kensi gripped his shoulders, her warm breath playing across his face. He just needed to know the answer to one crucial question.
“Hey Kenz, what exactly is the “eye thing”?”, he asked, curiosity piqued by her raging response to the Soccer Dad earlier.
Kensi stared at him, eyebrows raised.
“You've worked with the OSP for three years and you've never noticed? Seriously?” she replied, absolutely bewildered by the fact he was obviously missing something simple as 1+1. She shook her head and smiled at him. “Y'know, Nate, I'm pretty sure your Mom duped Harvard and paid for your Masters. God, I can't believe you never noticed...Wow.”
Nate leaned against the tree trunk, raising both his hands in the air. “Look, Sheesh, I just wanna know, okay?”
“Uh-huh,” Kensi chuckled sarcastically. “Okay,” she began, her face close to his, eyes locked. “They're different colors. See? That's all.”
Nate cocked his head, questioningly. Ah, yes. He did see. One of her eyes was pure black, while the other was a muddy shade of hazel. All things considered, it was actually kind of....cute. He cringed at that word. Cute wasn't something you used to describe Kensi, right?
“Oh. Well...eyes are a portal to the soul, right? You, Kensi Blye, are... multifaceted.” Nate drew imaginary sparkles in the air with his hands, giving Kensi an encouraging “It's Okay” smile.
“Ugh. Please tell me you picked that up from the creepy ME lady.”
“She's not creepy!”
“Well then fine, she could go off and be the Queen of the Universe for all I care.” Kensi's voice was edged with a venom Nate only knew she had when she was stuck in a room with some absolutely vile deviant, usually an indicator she wanted to rip their heads off.
“No...,” he muttered, psychologist side taking a very unwelcome leave. “You'd do a better job.” Nate drew her closer slowly, giving Kensi enough time to back out as his lips began to shut the gap between them. He was a careful kisser, like an explorer on the side of a mountain, all those calculations in order before one move was made.
Kensi on the other hand, dove into it headfirst, her tongue in Nate's mouth, running over his smooth, rich-kid teeth, not quite sure how their little adventure was going to end. Fortunately, it wasn't like they were writing the book.
“Mr. Getz!”, came a familiar voice from Nate's back pocket, instantly forcing the two to break apart.
“Oh, God. Oh, God,” Kensi murmured nervously, clapping a hand over her mouth before she screamed. Nate fumbled to grab the phone, cursing as the voice went on.
“Though I admit I am partial to hearing the lyrica genius of Asher Rothon an answering machine, that was not quite what I was expecting when I called my highly-recommended operational psychologist. Anyway, Mr. Getz, we have a case. Whenever you're finished with your seamy college frat boy activities, please sanitize your hands, change into a fresh shirt, and report to my office!” Hetty shouted through the Iphones little speakers.
“Oh, and would you remind Ms. Blye to change as well? Shorts may be good for kissing, but they are not appropriate for the workplace!” She finished with a harsh click, drowning out the background noise of OSP HQ on a Thursday afternoon. Nate's eyes frantically scanned the park for their pint-sized master, unable to find her and scared out of his right mind.
“Okay, um....I'll take the car...and-”
“Drop me off a block away to head her off?”
“Yeah.”
Kensi nodded and bit her bottom lip, obviously working on ways to avoid this career-ender. Nate took a deep breath and leaped off the tree, perhaps more recklessly than he would have planned. Kensi winced when she heard the sharp crack.
“Nate?”
“Uh, yeah...I think I broke my arm or something.”, he said weakly from below. The phone lay beside him, beeping from a speed-dial window before a voice came on line.
“Mr, Getz, don't you think falling out of a tree after having relations with a woman and injuring yourself is somewhat cliché?” Hetty chuckled.
Kensi groaned. Just my luck.
Author: strangespark
Title: DAY OFF
Rating: T
Fandom: NCISLA
Disclaimer: I don’t own any characters from NCISLA. Any others are my own creations, and any resemblance to people living or dead is purely coincidental.
Pairing: Kensi/Nate
Summary: A Kensi/Nate (they really, really need a couple name, yet all that comes up is KATE) fic. Based on the “Day Off” LA Prompt. Kensi and Nate spend a day at the park. Of Course, this being Nate and Kensi, there's a car fight, eye quirks, disses, trees and of course, Kisses!
Feedback: Please leave all feedback in this thread or PM me.
Author’s notes: Anyways, just a fluffy fic with a Nate/Kensi ship- (you've been warned, so if you don't like, don't read)! because I'm not realy liking my old favorite ship, Tiva. Rated mostly for the kissing thing
Nate and Kensi's Day Off
“You ever cut in front of me again, your insurance and your lawyer are gonna regret it, jerk!” Kensi shouted over her shoulder, crossing the manicured park lawn, attracting quite the audience as she proceeded to flip off a middle-aged man dressed in a too-short soccer team windbreaker, struggling with a cooler in his trunk.
“Yeah, you're gonna get smacked around by a chick in flip-flops if you don't get your fat butt over here and apologize! You know what, I bet you're the reason why America's obesity rate is skyrocketing, fatso,” she raged. Several teenage girls licking sherbets on a bench giggled into their sticky fingers; while a young mother, despite covering her toddlers ears, chuckled and grinned at Kensi as she walked by.
Nate winced. He was watching her from above, perched on the park's largest tree, mostly hidden by it's low hanging branches and a playground built in the thing's shadow. He'd loved coming here as a kid, racing to the top with his friends. So what if LA Parks and Rec had once put up a fence to keep a cap on broken arms in the ER? Nate was, for all of Callen and Sam's “sissy psychologist” jokes (he had yet to find suitable revenge for shrink wrapping his entire office), actually quite agile. He had yet to be in the ER for more than a consultation, after all.
“What did you say? So we're gonna bring up the eye thing again, Huh?” Kensi was going nuts, her hands curled into fists by her side. If she hadn't been so angry, today's combo of blue-and-green plaid shorts, a light brown tank top, flip-flops and a pretty aqua barrette in her hair would have been cute as those fuzzy little stress balls with googly eyes Eric had pointed out the last time Hetty had sent them shopping. Date jokes aside, Eric had terrific taste in shorts (go figure) and the dusted brown cargoes and vivid blue T-shirt Nate wore now were on the surfer's dime and discretion. Nate lowered himself a couple more branches and lunged off his perch, hearing the echo of his mother's voice cry “Nathan Getz! That's dangerous! No apple pie for you!”
He really did miss that pie sometimes.
By the time he crossed the park's beautifully maintained cobblestone square, Kensi and Soccer Dad were engaged in a heated argument, most of which was inaudible from the noise of the surrounding teenage crowd's loud shouts of “OOOOOOOOOWWWNED!” whenever Kensi landed her verbal uppercuts. She'd told Nate once, while they were in mandatory self-defense class, that her dad had a saying about fights. The first blow was landed with the first word out of your mouth, not the first punch from your fists. Nate pushed to the front of the crowd, amusing himself by trying to imagine the situation as a fistfight. Soccer Dad would have been a bloody pulp.
I should really be the responsible one... he thought, though Kensi's diatribe on McDonald's was a bit like a Micheal Moore and Seth MacFarlene on crossover Overdrive. Irresistible. Eventually, Kensi fixed the man with a predatory glare and headed off in the opposite direction.
“If all that trans fat hasn't made you deaf, I have a meeting to keep,” Kensi said simply, hips swinging as she locked eyes with Nate.
“What, with your Parole Officer?”
“With my shrink,” she giggled.
Nate and Kensi walked down the path, switching from cobblestone to packed dirt as they headed towards the picnic tables shrouded with trees.
“I brought food,” Kensi told him, her tongue flicking to her upper lip. “It's chicken strawberry salad and fries.”
Nate regarded her with a look of feigned surprise. “Since when can you cook?”
“Ugh, it's salad. You don't cook, you mix - and even I can do that. Hell, even Mace could do that!” she laughed.
“You ever hear from her, Kenz?” Nate knew they'd been close, and Macy's sudden reassignment along with Callen's brush (more like confrontation) with death had been tough for her, all so quick and close together. Kensi shook her head, her goofy smile fading.
“Kensi, I know the perfect place to eat,” he suddenly said, hoping she couldn't see through his quick-save tactics.
She's a girl, man, what do you think? He led her quietly to the tree, took the slightly oversized brown bag from her hands and leaped through the branches until only a sliver of his face and the gleam of his smile was visible.
“Kensi, come on! You can see everything from up here!” he called, half expecting her to already be halfway up. Yet with a quick glance down, Nate realized she was still on the ground, staring up at him with a goofy look on her face.
“Hey Nate!” she shouted up, cupping her mouth like a little girl. “Hey, Nate. I don't know how to climb trees!”
Nate just laughed.
“Seriously? You're like, an NCIS Agent and I'm the sissy rip off of Callen's favorite show. The one with the anthropologist, right, the real pretty one?” he joked, in total disbelief. Of course, none of it was true. It was a total contradiction to her profile, not to mention highly implausible. “Come on, Kensi, I promise I won't push you off.”
Kensi sighed and leaned and against the base of the tree.
“Okay, Nate?” she asked, crossing her arms across her chest. “When I was five, my brother climbed this one tree in Arlington, okay? In the Base Commander's backyard. Dad told me if I ever tried climbing a tree, he'd personally kick my ass the marine way. So, I didn't get myself beat up trying to do it.”
“Oh...,” Nate groaned, thankful that the Psych board's evaluations were yearly, not everyday. More often than not, especially with Kensi, he failed miserably. Nate leaped off and landed a few feet in front of her, the bag of food held in his teeth. He shrugged and touched her shoulder lightly.
“Um, okay, what happens if you need to go on assignment in a tree?”
“I report Hetty for animal cruelty.” They both had to laugh at that one.
“Kensi, I swear, it's easy. Look, I'll give you a boost, okay?” Several seconds later, Nate regretted the offer with Kensi's heel halfway up his nose.
“This sucks...,” he muttered.
“You offered,” Kensi grunted back, hanging on tightly to the branch above her head. Nate nodded, letting her nowbare feet search for a foothold below.
“Yeah, that's it, just go from one little notch to the next...,” he sighed, wiping the spit from his mouth as Kensi carefully went from one branch up to the next in tiny swing-jumps like a toddler eager to prove themselves on a playground ladder.
“Hey, it is actually nice up here.”
Nate heard his favorite OSP-er chuckle, her hair blending it with the branches, making her look like Kensi Blye, Tarzan Girl. Nate's favorite Disney film was Tarzan...
“Nate? Get you butt up here! You have the food, which by the way, I bought!” Kensi shouted, too late to catch her little slip as Nate dissolved into (manly, of course) giggles.
It had been slightly awkward at first, trying to balance on the same forked branch, though Kensi had been reassured enough by Nate's promise that Fat Richard, one of the local kids who'd weighed at least a good 200 pounds at age fourteen used to sit here all the time. She chewed on the end of one greasy, limp fry, legs across Nate's lap, leaning on a branch, watching life go on below them. Kensi listened to Nate's breath, whispering through the leaves in between bites of salad. They let the bag float away in the end, spiraling to the playground's swings and up around the little ice-cream stand.
“Litterbug,” Kensi shot at Nate with a slight grin as he watched the bag float up and smack Soccer Dad in the back of the head. He turned his attention back to her and shrugged.
“Knowing that you go on an eco-phase every April, that bag is probably at least 80% biodegradable. No worries,” he replied. Kensi giggled, crossing her bare legs at the ankles over one of Nate's pockets.
“Hmmm. Well, I guess a couple of penguins needed to die anyway.”
Nate shifted to dangle his feet into thin air, holding Kensi's arm tightly to make sure she didn't lose her balance and come crashing back down to earth. Neither she nor Hetty would forgive it, and the OSP was pretty lonely with nobody to talk to. Eric would probably get a chuckle out of it, though.
“Um, Nate?”, Kensi whispered, a slightly uncomfortable look across her face. “Uh, isn't this kinda cliché, you with your hands on me in a park, up in a tree?”, she said hastily. Nate instantly pulled his arm back.
“Oops.” Kensi seemed to waver there beside him for a second, before she gripped the bark below them and shakily sat. Both of them were used to the jokes, the off-handed little office banter remarks. Nate had his million excuses lined up, while Kensi simply discounted it. They were purely professional and just happen to enjoy each other's company. Having to explain it again and again wasn't exactly the highlight of either of their days.
“Actually, Nate, is it okay if I just hold on to you?”, Kensi said in her utterly random way, the product, Nate's profile would indicate, of years of playing what he called Adapt or Die - either speaking up or being punished for it. He nodded, mesmerized by the way the light breeze further tousled her hair, kicking off sunny highlights in the stray strands.
“Yeah. Fine.”
To Nate, it couldn't have gotten any more perfect than watching the waves in the distance, the chatter of children washing against him as the sun burned brightly in the sky and Kensi gripped his shoulders, her warm breath playing across his face. He just needed to know the answer to one crucial question.
“Hey Kenz, what exactly is the “eye thing”?”, he asked, curiosity piqued by her raging response to the Soccer Dad earlier.
Kensi stared at him, eyebrows raised.
“You've worked with the OSP for three years and you've never noticed? Seriously?” she replied, absolutely bewildered by the fact he was obviously missing something simple as 1+1. She shook her head and smiled at him. “Y'know, Nate, I'm pretty sure your Mom duped Harvard and paid for your Masters. God, I can't believe you never noticed...Wow.”
Nate leaned against the tree trunk, raising both his hands in the air. “Look, Sheesh, I just wanna know, okay?”
“Uh-huh,” Kensi chuckled sarcastically. “Okay,” she began, her face close to his, eyes locked. “They're different colors. See? That's all.”
Nate cocked his head, questioningly. Ah, yes. He did see. One of her eyes was pure black, while the other was a muddy shade of hazel. All things considered, it was actually kind of....cute. He cringed at that word. Cute wasn't something you used to describe Kensi, right?
“Oh. Well...eyes are a portal to the soul, right? You, Kensi Blye, are... multifaceted.” Nate drew imaginary sparkles in the air with his hands, giving Kensi an encouraging “It's Okay” smile.
“Ugh. Please tell me you picked that up from the creepy ME lady.”
“She's not creepy!”
“Well then fine, she could go off and be the Queen of the Universe for all I care.” Kensi's voice was edged with a venom Nate only knew she had when she was stuck in a room with some absolutely vile deviant, usually an indicator she wanted to rip their heads off.
“No...,” he muttered, psychologist side taking a very unwelcome leave. “You'd do a better job.” Nate drew her closer slowly, giving Kensi enough time to back out as his lips began to shut the gap between them. He was a careful kisser, like an explorer on the side of a mountain, all those calculations in order before one move was made.
Kensi on the other hand, dove into it headfirst, her tongue in Nate's mouth, running over his smooth, rich-kid teeth, not quite sure how their little adventure was going to end. Fortunately, it wasn't like they were writing the book.
“Mr. Getz!”, came a familiar voice from Nate's back pocket, instantly forcing the two to break apart.
“Oh, God. Oh, God,” Kensi murmured nervously, clapping a hand over her mouth before she screamed. Nate fumbled to grab the phone, cursing as the voice went on.
“Though I admit I am partial to hearing the lyrica genius of Asher Rothon an answering machine, that was not quite what I was expecting when I called my highly-recommended operational psychologist. Anyway, Mr. Getz, we have a case. Whenever you're finished with your seamy college frat boy activities, please sanitize your hands, change into a fresh shirt, and report to my office!” Hetty shouted through the Iphones little speakers.
“Oh, and would you remind Ms. Blye to change as well? Shorts may be good for kissing, but they are not appropriate for the workplace!” She finished with a harsh click, drowning out the background noise of OSP HQ on a Thursday afternoon. Nate's eyes frantically scanned the park for their pint-sized master, unable to find her and scared out of his right mind.
“Okay, um....I'll take the car...and-”
“Drop me off a block away to head her off?”
“Yeah.”
Kensi nodded and bit her bottom lip, obviously working on ways to avoid this career-ender. Nate took a deep breath and leaped off the tree, perhaps more recklessly than he would have planned. Kensi winced when she heard the sharp crack.
“Nate?”
“Uh, yeah...I think I broke my arm or something.”, he said weakly from below. The phone lay beside him, beeping from a speed-dial window before a voice came on line.
“Mr, Getz, don't you think falling out of a tree after having relations with a woman and injuring yourself is somewhat cliché?” Hetty chuckled.
Kensi groaned. Just my luck.
