Hi everyone. I'm new to the fandom, having marathon-watched every season over the space of a couple of months, so this is my first fic for NCIS: LA. It's set somewhere toward the end of season five, after the whole Afghanistan arc. I'm very much a Densi shipper and just wanted to play around with their characters for a bit, so this seemed like a good way to do it. I do have a couple of longer fics developing in the back of my mind, so depending on how this first foray into the fandom goes I may well be back with a multi-chapter fic at some point. We'll see.
Before we get to the fic, I want to thank canaussie for acting as a beta reader. Your feedback was very encouraging and very much appreciated, so thank you so much for that.
This was meant to be a one-shot but I think it's slightly too long, coming from an unknown author, so I've split it into two. The next chapter will be up very soon, and in the meantime I'd love to hear your thoughts so please fave, follow, review; you know the drill. See you next time!
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It's a routine assignment. Their covers are deeper than usual, made necessary by the expected length of the case ("anywhere from three to six months" they were told, "but definitely no longer than a year"), but their aliases are easy enough to play: the wily Arabella and her hot-headed boyfriend Charlie, up-and-coming guns-for-hire who want to take out the biggest targets they can get. (It had been strange at times to play partners in that sense of the word, but they're professionals and they'd put their personal feelings aside for the job. Mostly.)
It's all routine, that is, except for the fact that someone is pointing a gun at her partner's head.
"Kensi," Deeks says calmly, giving up on their aliases since it's very obvious they've just been made (the dead giveaway had been when the gun-wielding bad guy had used their actual names, but there were more subtle signs before that), "take the shot."
Her finger brushes against the trigger, but she shakes her head. The sights are pointed at the bad guy – a big brute of a thing, all brawn and no brains, but he has just enough intelligence to hold and point his gun… and probably shoot it, too.
"If I take the shot," Kensi replies, equally calmly, "you're dead."
"Kens," he says again, this time with a hint of panic in his voice, "take it."
She thinks at first that he's concerned about the mission, knowing that if they take this guy out they might be able to salvage the operation. But in the split second before she makes her decision, she sees what he's really worried about: her.
Slowly, she lowers the gun. The bad guy makes some inane comment about her having made the right choice, but Kensi keeps her eyes locked with Deeks' as she unloads her gun and then slides it across the floor of the warehouse. There's an opening coming up, and both agents are aware of it. If the bad guy picks up the gun, his attention will waver just enough for Deeks to act. It's their best, if not only, chance.
Deeks is kneeling on the ground, his hands on his head as instructed, but his expression makes it clear that despite all signs to the contrary he's not actually surrendering.
A door opens and two more guys come in, and both agents simultaneously realize that they've missed their opportunity. Kensi and Deeks can both hold their own, but not in a fight like this. They're unarmed, running on five hours' sleep between them, and more concerned for each other's safety than perhaps they should be. They share a look, make their call, and by unanimous unspoken agreement decide to go quietly.
Logic, Kensi. If it was just her against the two newcomers she might take the chance, but she can't fight back when Deeks is in such a vulnerable state. So she grits her teeth as her hands are cuffed behind her and then as she's nudged forward to where Deeks is. The original bad guy hauls him to his feet and the two agents share another look.
"The boss isn't gonna like this," the original bad guy, a bear-like guy wearing a plaid shirt, says. "We were only supposed to take one of them."
"Well that settles it then," Deeks says with fake cheerfulness. "You let her go and then the rest of us will be on our way."
"Shut up," growls the guy who's still holding Kensi's arm in a vice-like grip; he's of slighter build, kind of wiry but in a way that suggests that what he lacks in strength he makes up for in other ways, like he's much more capable than his ripped jeans and day-old stubble would have them believe.
"Really, you wouldn't want to take her anyway." Deeks ignores Kensi's warning look and keeps chattering, trying to draw attention to himself. "She'd be a terrible hostage. She never shuts up, and -"
Before either of them can react, Ripped Jeans backhands Kensi across the face. She squeezes her eyes shut against the pain, trying not to show any weakness in front of her captors.
Deeks drops his playful act at once, the sight of Kensi's pain enough to push him into protective mode. "If you hurt her again -" he begins in his most threatening voice – which is a lot more intimidating than the Labrador that Kensi likes to joke he is.
"If you shut up and do what you're told," Ripped Jeans growls, "I won't have to."
The detective falls silent, but while the bad guys discuss their plans he catches Kensi's eye and mouths I'm sorry. She shrugs, letting him know it's okay. He was just trying to help, and she gets that; she just kind of wishes he could do it in a less Deeks-like way.
In a matter of minutes they've both been searched, their phones confiscated and wires discovered. They've lost any chance of trying to convince their captors that they're not federal agents, but that had been a long shot anyway. Kensi can't remember a time when the "I'm not a federal agent, you must have gotten your wires crossed" routine has actually worked. And even though Deeks isn't technically a federal agent, being a detective is probably just as bad in this scenario.
As they're hustled toward a waiting van, Deeks catches Kensi's eye, trying to be reassuring. Of course the effect would be a lot greater if not for one key fact: they both know that their team doesn't know where they are. They haven't checked in today, and with their phones gone and their wires destroyed, they have no way of contacting them. Nobody knows where they are.
They reach the van and Kensi starts to say something, to ask where they're going or what they want from them, but before she can she feels a sharp prick in her neck. Deeks has maybe half a second to register her shocked expression before he too feels the sting of the needle, and then half a minute later they both slump into the arms of their captors, unable to resist the poison coursing through their bodies.
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"No." Deeks' eyes are wide, pleading, desperate. "Please tell me that's not true."
Kensi raises her eyebrows. "Oh, it's true," she says.
Deeks groans, leaning forward as far as his restraints will allow. He's currently handcuffed to a pipe behind him, with Kensi in a similar position slightly to his right. He shoots her a sideways look, grimacing. "You're lying." His tone is part hopeful, part disbelieving.
Kensi starts to hold her hands up in a gesture of "what can I tell you, it's the truth" before remembering that she is, in fact, handcuffed to a metal pipe. So she shrugs instead and says, "You, my fearless partner, yelped when they gave you that needle." Playing on the horror that shoots through Deeks' eyes, she amends, "Actually, it wasn't really a yelp. That's giving you too much credit. It was more like… a squeak."
The detective groans again, dejected. "My life is over."
Kensi snickers. "You know, it was kind of cute. Like when you tread on a cat's tail and you feel so bad about it you want to hug them."
At this Deeks looks up, the mock horror in his eyes replaced by something more playful. "Are you saying that you wanted to hug me?" He grins, and she knows she just walked right into this. "Hey, Kensalina, if you ever get that urge again you don't need to hide it, just go right ahead and -"
His sentence cuts off abruptly as the door opens, and in comes Ripped Jeans, closely followed by Plaid Shirt. The former is scowling, while the latter seems slightly abashed. Kensi glances over at Deeks, the same thought occurring to both of them: Ripped Jeans is in charge, making Plaid Shirt the weak link.
"Here's the thing," Ripped Jeans says, stopping a few feet in front of them and then beginning to pace, glancing up at his captives every few steps as if to make sure they haven't disappeared. "We were only supposed to take one of you, which puts us in a bit of a pickle. But luckily for us, we have a couple options." He stops pacing and looks over at Plaid Shirt, who takes over the conversation – seemingly reluctantly.
"Number one," says Plaid Shirt, and Ripped Jeans holds up one finger (causing Deeks to idly wonder whether Plaid Shirt even knows how to count), "we kill both of you and call it a day. Or number two," he goes on before they can react, with his friend holding up another finger, "we kill one of you and get the information from the other one."
"So what'll it be?" Ripped Jeans asks, smirking as if he'd actually come up with an ingenious masterplan.
"I'm going to go with door number three," Deeks says before Kensi can respond. He doesn't look at her as he speaks, and she recognizes that for what it is: he's trying to keep the focus on him, to stop their captors from paying attention to her. "You let both of us go, and our agency doesn't come bursting through the door armed to the teeth and looking for revenge against the guys who took two of their own."
Ripped Jeans pauses, seemingly surprised by Deeks' audacity, but Plaid Shirt doesn't even flinch. If anything he almost seems like he wants NCIS to break down the doors. Kensi doesn't blame him; it may be better than continuing to work with his partner, whose scowl is more discouraging even than Granger's.
"Hm." Ripped Jeans tries to sound dismissive, but Deeks can see he hit a nerve. Their captors want to make it out of this alive, which could be a good bargaining chip. Survival instinct can go a long way in negotiating. He looks at Deeks, then at Kensi, and finally turns to his friend, gestures to him to follow, and then retreats to the far side of the room – which is quite a distance away, considering that as far as Deeks and Kensi can tell they're in some kind of cellar.
The two guys start talking, too quietly for it to travel across the room, but Kensi watches them intently. Deeks, meanwhile, is watching Kensi.
"Can you read them?" he asks quietly after a few moments.
Kensi frowns, not answering until there's a break in the conversation between the two guys. Then, without looking at her partner, she says, "Yeah." A beat, and then, "They're talking about what to do with us."
Something in Kensi's voice makes Deeks shiver involuntarily. Falling back on his characteristic defense mechanism, he says, "What have they decided? Something good, right? I'm sensing a three course meal in our future, maybe at a nice restaurant by the seaside -"
"Deeks," Kensi interrupts softly, the catch in her voice enough to cause him to fall silent at once. "They're talking about which one of us they're going to torture first."
They both fall silent, while Ripped Jeans and Plaid Shirt keep arguing. Kensi doesn't relay their messages, and Deeks doesn't ask. Finally the two guys leave, and the two agents let the reality of their situation sink in.
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I'd love to hear from you all, so feel free to review, PM, follow me on Tumblr (shadowstakeall), whatever. Bye for now!
