March 31, 2019
After all the drama and bickering, Deeks and I managed to pull off a successful fundraiser for Heal the Bay. Thank goodness for Jake and his help or the night would have been a complete disaster. It was kind of fun hanging out with an 8 year–old, even if he did know more than both of us combined about the bar’s AV system. Deeks was just too adorable with him, and I won’t deny thinking that one day that will be us with our own child.
Though I’m not sure we’ll still have the bar once our own kids are old enough to fix the technology. I’m glad I finally told Deeks how I’ve been feeling about the place. Until now I was willing to blame some of that stress on the wedding planning, but it was way so obvious to me today that this isn’t working out. I hate that there’s something Deeks and I can’t do well together, but we’re usually able to figure difficult situations out (especially when we talk about them), so I’m hopeful this will be the same.
Even though it was a minor injury, it’s really bothering me that Callen was shot, again. Plus Sam was shot for the second time last year. I find myself worrying that it’ll be Deeks’ turn (again) next. I guess now I know how he felt when he was waiting for the other shoe to drop a few years ago. Maybe this is the universe trying to tell me it’s time to move on. Maybe the way to stop arguing about the bar is to have Deeks run it full-time. And I can work with the homeless, a thought that has more appeal the more I think about it. Then our next joint venture could be having and raising a litter of ninja assassins. Definitely something worth thinking about.
But in the meantime, it’s a shame Deeks wasn’t there when Agent Evans and I made our escape this morning; I would have loved for him to see how bad-ass I was shooting two guns in opposite directions simultaneously. Had the wig stayed on, I would have looked like Uma Thurman straight out of one of his Kill Bill fantasies. Hmm…we might have to role play that before I give the wig back to Hetty and find out if blondes really do have more fun.
Which reminds me–I need to check Deeks’ truck for a tracking device. There is no way Kirkin found him at the marina on our wedding day and at the park last year just from following him on Facebook. I don’t have a problem with a Russian mob bosscrushing on my man (as Deeks would say, those are words I just wrote), but I’ll be damned if I’m going to let him know where my husband (yep—still makes me grin like an idiot!) is at all times. Deeks is sleeping pretty soundly, I should just do it now. Hopefully I won’t wake him up with all my cursing if I do find out that Kirkin has actually been tracking him…