AN: I'm new to writing full stop so please be gentle. Last fiction I wrote I was knee high to a grasshopper and that is a long time ago . I'm not claiming to be any good just wanted to see if I could be a little train that could.

Needless to say I don't own anything just playing

This is planned to be multi-chapters and to focus on a series of conversations happening from S8/22 Golden Days onwards to the end of the arc that started in 'Internal Affairs'.

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Chapter 1 - Asking with Menaces

Somewhere that's nowhere, Santa Monica, LA, Sunday 3rd September 2017

"Coffee?" Whiting asks as Deeks plonks himself down at the opposite end of the bench.

He leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees. Taking his eyes off the ocean, he looks down at the space between his feet and exhales slowly, before quickly turning his head to the side and looking straight at her. "Let's cut the small talk Whiting. You asked to meet. What do you want?"

Whitings' gaze travels casually around, flitting between the early morning surfers, dog walkers and their charges and various joggers before starting the cycle again. "All business, I like that. I said I'd be in touch when I was ready to go after a big fish, well I'm ready"

Deeks turns his gaze back to the space between his feet "Who's the unlucky fish? Anyone I know?"

"Bates among others"

"Good luck with that" he says as he raises his head bringing his gaze to the blue expanse of the Pacific Ocean.

God he wishes he were out there on his board or rather anywhere other than here, having this conversation with her but that would have required him to make a different choice one night a decade ago. And just like that earlier time, though and that decision has brought him pain and regrettably impacted on his life with Kensi, he still thinks living with the alternative of standing by and doing nothing would have been worse. It still doesn't stop him feeling the guilt for the taking of a life (no matter what a poor excuse for a life it was) just like he still feels the guilt of that earlier occasion when he could have done if his aim had been true but wasn't. But he reminds himself for the umpteenth time that's what makes him not his father – remorse.

"I don't need luck when I have my secret weapon"

"Dare I ask?"

Whiting turns towards Deeks and hardens her gaze "Cut the crap Deeks, you know what's expected"

Deeks pushes himself quickly off the bench, coming to a dead stop a few feet away where the boardwalk meets the sand.

He'd insisted on this nondescript, unremarkable place when Whiting had suggested Santa Monica pier in her text, he didn't want any of their places to be tainted by this conversation.

He brings his thoughts back to the matter in hand. He knows he can't blow her off completely, he needs to keep calm and focused. She still holds the trump card of his confession even though she would have a hard time explaining why she hadn't acted on the information sooner. For him the passage of time is irrelevant, the revelation whenever it is made will definitely be career changing and probably life changing.

Whiting slowly stands, her gaze fixed on Deeks' back. "I understand your loyalty to Bates, Deeks - he got you away from that toxic situation with Boyle - but at the end of the day you need to decide where your true loyalty lies"

"What do you mean?" He asks without turning around, his eyes still fixed on the ocean, arms folded across his chest. He fears he knows where she's going with this but hopes against hope that he's wrong.

"We all have to decide what's most important in our lives, we can't always save everyone... you're an honest man Deeks, I believe you did a bad thing for a good reason but you still did a bad thing and the truth has a tendency to come out in the end"

Deeks nostrils flare as he releases a noisy breath, his lips set firm.

Whiting steps forward into His shadow before continuing "You kept your side of the deal, you told me the truth about Boyle. I think you told me not only because we had a deal but also because keeping the secret was eating you alive. I don't think after telling me you'd keep the secret from her..."

Deeks remains still, not daring to speak. Here it comes he thinks. He feels his body tense as if readying to take a punch.

"Pop quiz Deeks, if I were to reopen the Boyle investigation, what would be my first actions?"

"You tell me Whiting, you're the IA whizz here". He's gonna make her do all the work, no way he's playing the card for her.

"So unlike you to be coy Deeks. Well after interviewing Ms Williams to see if she can shed any light on what happened and why she's been receiving financial aid from you then I'd interview the past and present partners of the suspect to see what they know. I can't interview Boyle as he's dead, I can't interview Trainor as she's dead - so who am I left with?" she pauses for a long beat "Do you really want to put her in that situation?"

Deeks knows he's lost now Whiting has finally played her real trump card. Any room for manoeuvre is gone, he can't let Kensi pay for his choices, his crime. Just like he can't let Tiffanys new life get ruined after she's worked so hard to get back on track. He doesn't want to add those to things to the already too long list of things he cant ever forgive himself for.

Whiting continues talking seemingly unaware of her victory. "I think you want...no need to do the right thing...not only to protect Kensi but to find out the truth and put away a dirty cop…"

Deeks spins on his heels and turns to face Whiting, his voice low and gravelly cuts across hers not interested in hearing any more of her arguments "There is no way that Bates will believe I'm dirty. There's too much history with Quinn and Fisk and if that weren't enough he would never believe that I could pull the wool over Hettys eyes for 7 minutes never mind 7 years.

Whiting' mouth remains open, caught mid flow, stunned that she's won and the debate has moved to practicalities so quickly.

"Agreed" she states quickly. Recovering her composure, she pulls out a sheaf of papers from her shoulder bag and pushes them into Deeks' hands. " I think the way in is through this man" she says pointing to the tall, dark, handsome but haughty looking man in the top most photo.

Deeks stares transfixed at the photo in his hands, though he's not looking at the man under Whitings index finger but rather the beautiful woman hanging from his arm. He knows now he's going to take this on no matter what. He can't let her get hurt in the crossfire and he not be there to protect her.

Whiting seems oblivious to Deeks distraction. "Let's get a coffee and talk" and heads off towards a small cafe. He takes a deep breath in and out in an attempt to release the tension in his body before pushing his hair out of his eyes and setting off in Whitings wake.

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10 minutes later finds them silently sat at the same outside table, each with a takeout coffee. Whiting slowly sips her flat white whilst Deeks' remains untouched on the table in front of him. His usually fidgety hands thrust deep in his jeans pockets.

"If I'm going to do this, I need some assurances that you are not going to keep coming back for more...that this is a one time deal."

"It doesn't work like..."

"This time it does" Deeks cuts in harshly "You can't do this without me, if you could you'd have tried it before now. It's been 3 months since you regained consciousness and 2 months since you returned to work. You can't pretend that you haven't sat on a murder confession without acting all that time and a statement from me detailing how you blackmailed me into working on an off the books op won't help your cause. So we both have things to lose"

Whiting doesn't respond, carrying on sipping her coffee.

"We do this one investigation, if the evidence proves you are right then Bates and co are off the street, if you are wrong, you accept it and move on. Either way my case is closed permanently. Do we have a deal?"

"What's to stop me agreeing then changing my mind later?" Whiting asks seemingly genuinely curious.

"Nothing...but just know that if you do for starters I'll sue your ass. I'm a lawyer so won't cost me a thing, might even be fun - stop me getting rusty. You might want to think about how that will play with the brass, a decorated police officer, tortured and shot in the line of duty, who successfully captured a bent IA officer as well as a few dirty cops suing another IA officer whose life he saved for defamation and harassment"

"I guess we just have to trust each other then won't we?"