This will almost certainly end up being AU, but that's fine by me. There will most likely be either 3 or 4 parts to this story. Thanks to aprylynn and ifiknowyouatall (and classof7teen).

I don't own any of these characters. If I did, I would make them happy.

Afghanistan, April 2014

"Is this it?" Deeks whispered, adjusting his automatic weapon under his thawb.

"Yeah, but it looks too quiet," Callen answered.

Sam interjected. "He's going to look for someplace inconspicuous to hide. Unless it's a trap, I think the GPS is right."

The building was small and poorly built, like so many others they'd seen on their Humvee ride in the desert. Nothing stood out about it except it being the GPS location of the NCIS mole that Kensi had flushed out of their base camp and then subsequently lost; but he didn't disappear before taking out two of the agents at their camp. Hetty got the call from Granger, and the three men were on the next plane out to Afghanistan.

Kensi still had her mission: kill the White Ghost. The reunion with her old team was brief; time was of the essence. She and Deeks had exchanged smiles and a gentle brush of fingers while being briefed on their assignments and locations of their targets.

"Sam, you got the back. I'll go in the front. Deeks, can you fit through that cracked window?"

Deeks rolled his eyes. "I always get stuck with the windows."

Counting to three with his fingers, Callen signaled his team to enter the building. Deeks used his weapon to break out the remainder of the broken glass from the window and climbed in carefully. Blinking to adjust his eyes to the relative darkness of his room, he surveyed his surroundings. There was one table with maps and documents, another table with various weapons and grenades, and a few folding chairs. Movement behind one of the chairs startled him and he raised his rifle. "Don't move."

No response. He gulped and walked over to the chair cautiously. What he saw made him stomach drop as fast as his weapon. "No no no no no…"

Kensi was lying on the cold floor, bloody hands covering a wound in her abdomen. "Kens, Kensi, oh God oh God…" Deeks muttered as he dropped to his knees. He ran his hand over her face and she leaned into him but didn't open her eyes. "Can you hear me? Shit, we don't have comms…Kens, just nod if you can hear me."

She nodded slowly, grimacing as she tried to move. Deeks removed his keffiyeh and started applying pressure to her wound. "Shot?" She nodded. "Is he gone?" She nodded again. "Sam! Callen! In here now!"

"I killed him," Kensi whispered.

"You killed who?"

"The White Ghost," she said, whimpering. "I completed my mission."

"No no, Kens, mission not over. The mission is going back home, remember? You, me, Monty, beers on the couch and stupid movies," Deeks said weakly, hands still on her gunshot wound. Sam and Callen barged in to the room simultaneously, guns up. Deeks looked at them and looked back at Kensi.

"How bad?" Sam asked.

"Could be worse," Deeks replied. "She's conscious, at least. We need to get her out of here now."

Callen and Sam exchanged a concerned look. "Deeks…"

"No."

"We can call and send somebody out here…"

"No."

"Deeks," Callen said as gently as he could. "We still have a mission."

"I don't care about the goddamn mission, I am not leaving her!" Deeks shouted, voice cracking. He leaned down close to Kensi's face. "I'm not leaving okay? We're walking out of here together, even if I have to carry you myself."

Kensi barely opened her eyes, and he could see tears in her eyes as she shook her head. "Go."

Deeks could feel his head start to spin and he thought he was about to throw up. All he could see was blood and tears and dirt; suddenly his mind was spinning out of control and he was back in the auto body shop, covered in his own blood and tears. He remembered Kensi coming to save him, only to leave alone and in anguish. Easing up on the pressure he was holding on her abdomen, he ducked his head to try to gather himself together.

"We're running out of time, Deeks," Callen urged. "We'll send somebody to come get her."

Panicking, he stood up and pulled out his pistol, aiming it at his team leader. "Please," he begged, his bloody hand and bloody pistol trembling.

"Pull yourself together, Deeks," Sam warned, holding a hand up. "You're not doing her any good right now."

"At what point do we stop being partners and friends and whatever the hell else we are to each other, and start being robots that only care about our 'mission'?" Deeks pointed his free hand at Kensi. "This is your friend." He looked pleadingly at Sam.

Sam sighed and shook his head, leaning down by Kensi's head. "Come on G."

"What?" Callen looked at him, incredulously.

"The mole is gone," Sam said pointedly, lifting Kensi up under her arms. "We lost him."

Callen scrunched his face, looking at Deeks again before sighing and bending down to grab her feet. "Yeah. I guess we did."

Still shaking, Deeks holstered his pistol and picked up the bloody keffiyeh from the floor, applying pressure again as they carried Kensi back to safety. "I'm sorry, man…I just, I don't even know."

Los Angeles, September 2014

First impressions are everything. Like this desk, Marty Deeks thought. It's made out of particleboard. Couldn't even afford walnut? Or cherry? This is an office for Christ's sake. He knocked on the desk and thought he was going to get a splinter. Turning his nose up, he spun around in his squeaky office chair to look out the window.

"Damn. Why did I think there would be a window?"

"Gotten spoiled, have we?"

Deeks startled and his chair creaked. Spinning back around, he addressed his new boss. "Oh, hey Evie. Uh, long time no see." He eyed her up and down appreciatively. "You've aged very well, ma'am."

Evelyn Daly, Evie for short, looked at him with an amused look on her face. "Nice to see that some things don't change. Except your hair. What is that look, homeless chic meets surfer sensation?"

Deeks chuckled. "Good to see you too. And my hair was long before. Just maybe not," he gestured towards his mane, "this long. Is it going to be a problem?"

"A haircut wouldn't hurt," she said apologetically. "Out with the old, in with the…older?" Evie handed him a file. "You sure about this?"

"I'll have to knock the rust off, but I'm cool," he responded cautiously. "I'm guessing this is my case?"

Evie nodded. "Raul Trujillo, 22 years old. Charges are attempted murder. We're hoping they'll offer a plea of attempted manslaughter and that he'll accept. Pretty cut and dry."

"Alright. Is he in jail now?"

"Please," Evie scoffed. "Do you have any idea how backlogged the DA is? He's been out for a year."

Deeks nodded and pulled out his phone to put his new client's address in his GPS. He paused momentarily, looking at his background picture of Kensi that he couldn't bring himself to change. Sighing, he opened up his GPS application. "I guess I'll be paying Mr. Trujillo a visit today."

Evelyn winked at him. "Good luck Marty. And welcome back to LA County's Public Defender office."

"All I'm saying is, G," Sam joked as he walked side by side with his partner, "there are lots of fish in the sea."

"I don't like fishing," Callen responded.

Sam paused. "It's a metaphor."

"I don't like metaphors anymore either."

Sam sat down at his desk and rolled his eyes. "Alright, that's okay, I'll just stop trying."

"Thank you."

"What do you think Kensi?"

Kensi glanced up from her paperwork. "I don't like fishing either."

Callen scowled at her. "Since when? You love anything to do with water."

"Since I'm just over it, okay?" Kensi replied sharply.

Callen and Sam exchanged a knowing look. Sam opened his mouth to respond to her but was distracted by white noise coming from up the stairs. He glanced up at Eric, who was holding his cellphone over the ledge. "Ocean sounds, Eric? You trying to put us to sleep?"

Eric shrugged. "We may have caught a big one."

Sam groaned and Callen chuckled as they took the steps two at a time up to Ops. Kensi followed behind quietly.

"Good morning," Nell greeted everybody as they entered. "We may have a lead on our missing mole, John Booker." She pulled a video up on the screen of two men arguing in the corner of a gas station parking lot. One man pushed the other, and the second man pulled out a knife and stabbed him in retaliation before getting into a car and driving off.

Nell paused the video. "Facial rec says the stabber is Booker. His victim is a San Diego NCIS agent, Jeb Williams. He died at the hospital, and he's the reason LAPD turned this case over to us. Booker ran off with Williams' car. We have a BOLO out on it but nothing so far."

Kensi pursed her lips. "Rewind the video for a second?" Nell scrolled back the video feed. "Stop. There. You see that guy at the pump?" She paused the video and zoomed in on a young man pumping gas. She played the video again. When Booker jumped in his car, the man rushed over to check on Agent Williams, speaking to him.

"We have a witness. He might have overheard the argument, or Agent Williams might have told him something, trying to get help," Sam said.

"It's a possibility," Callen agreed. "Facial rec on him, Nell?"

"Running as we speak."

Eric spoke up. "Isn't this the part where one of you asks how an NCIS Tech Specialist went from basically doing my job, to killing people and avoiding being caught by the best agents we have?"

Everyone exchanged glances. "Keep an eye on him, Nell," Callen joked.

Kensi quietly backed out of Ops and snuck back down to her desk. She'd almost made it when she heard Hetty beckoning her over to her desk. "Miss Blye? Could I speak with you for a minute please?" She sighed and dragged her feet over to Hetty's office space. Hetty nodded to one of the empty chairs, signaling her to sit down.

Crossing her hands together, Hetty leaned on her desk. "How are we doing, dear?"

Kensi shrugged. "I'm fine."

"Ah."

Sighing, Kensi slouched in the chair. "What do you want me to say?" Hetty didn't respond. "I'm ready to get this bastard, that's how I'm doing."

Hetty nodded. "Hmm hmm. But how is your heart?"

"I'm in the best shape of my life, Hetty. I'm running, doing cross-fit…"

Hetty smirked, and Kensi raised her eyebrows at her. "What?"

"Do you believe in fate, Miss Blye?"

"I believe in what I can control, Hetty."

"I see." She took a sip of her tea. "Have you spoken to Mr. Deeks lately?"

"No."

"Have you tried calling him?"

"No."

"Has he tried contacting you?" Kensi remained silent and diverted her eyes.

"Kensi!"Callen called, trotting down the stairs. "We got a facial rec on the witness. I need you and Sam to find him and bring him to the boatshed."

Kensi stood up from her chair and started walking away. "Duty calls."

"You should call your partner, Miss Blye," Hetty spoke softly.

Turning back around, Kensi offered a weak smile. "He left me, Hetty. I don't have a partner anymore."