A/N: So here we go – my first story in English :)

Just an idea I got from when I was sick…

Thanks a lot to kensi54382 for beta reading!

Oh and of course I don't own anything that has to do with NCIS:LA

It was his alarm clock that woke him rudely from his sleep. Deeks sighed and ran his hand over his face. When he had finally managed to get to sleep it had been late, really late, and he woke up several times during the short night. The case they closed yesterday shouldn't have been disturbing enough to affect his sleep, but, still, he just hadn't been able to relax. The moment Deeks swallowed he almost winced; his throat felt like he had tried to eat sandpaper.

"Great."

With his throat, it wasn't a good idea to go surfing, Deeks knew that much, and with another sigh he pushed the sleep function of his clock to rest a little bit longer, but sleep just wouldn't come again.

"Great," he repeated, slightly annoyed, and got up from his comfy bed.

As soon as Deeks' feet touched the cool floor and he was standing upright he used the wall to stay that way. Taking a deep breath and willing the dizziness to go away, he slowly made his way to the kitchen. He would not stay home just because of a sore throat – nope, not going to happen.

Kensi was sitting together with Sam and Callen in the bullpen and was desperately trying to minimize the incredibly huge amount of paper on her desk. She had lost count of how many justifications for the use of her SIG she had already signed – wasn't it argument enough that someone wanted to detonate a bomb? Seemingly not. Every bullet had to be discussed and approved.

Sam and Callen exchanged some amused glances while watching Kensi struggling with the formulas, getting more annoyed with every page that was turned.

"You know, if you just did the paperwork immediately you wouldn't have to spend a whole day at the end of the week doing it," Sam chuckled and got an amazed glance from Kensi.

"Oh really Sam? Thank you so much for sharing with me!" Kensi said and scribbled a last signature on yet another piece of paper. "You know what? I'm wondering how Deeks manages his paperwork. I mean, he has to do double the amount for LAPD, and still his desk is always free of paper. I bet he pays Eric or something."

With those words she closed the brown folder in front of her. If someone had asked her, she had done enough for today. Time for her donut.

"By the way, where is Deeks?" Callen asked and looked at his watch.

The detective was running late most of the days because he needed to catch that last wave which was certainly the best of the day. Deeks chose that exact moment to appear around the corner.

"Deeks is here. Am I already being missed? Aw, you guys are too sweet," he greeted his colleagues and placed a smile on his face.

"Get in line, Shaggy," Sam regarded the Detective from nose to toe – something was bothering him, something was missing in that picture. "No sandy shoes? Haven't you been surfing?"

Deeks sighed internally. This was one of the moments when he hated to work with people who were able to see the smallest details.

"Nope. Forecast said the waves wouldn't be that great," he replied and sank as cool as possible onto his chair.

Callen looked at him suspiciously and entered the question-answer-game. "Then why are you late?"

"Oh, let me guess, you hit on some crazy stripper yesterday and she just wouldn't leave this morning?" Kensi teased and wiggled with her eyebrows in a not-so-subtle way.

"Yeah, something like that."

Without another word, Deeks put his laptop on his desk and started hitting the keys, typing the report for last night that Kensi had yet to finish.

He would have been on time; if his body would had done what Deeks had wanted it to do. Every time he got up, he needed a moment to get his vision clear again and until the world stopped spinning. That and he had to wait for his tea. He, Marty Deeks, actually drank tea and that meant something.

Kensi looked up from her papers and glanced at Deeks. Something was wrong with him, she could tell that – hell, she could feel it. His answers were too short and not very Deeks-like, even her comment with the stripper was completely ignored by him. Kensi frowned at him, seeing how he cuddled himself even tighter in his pullover, with growing concern.

Despite the air-conditioning it was well over twenty-five degrees in the mission so that there was absolutely no reason to be freezing. With her coffee in one hand, she walked over to Deeks and leaned with her hips on his desk.

"You okay, Deeks?"

"Sure, Fern, I'm just peachy." He gave her a brief smile, before turning his attention once again to his laptop. He was fine, he was not sick and even if he was, he would definitely not admit it to his colleagues.

Kensi just nodded and went to the coffee machine, which was practically just behind Deeks' desk, pouring herself a new cup of coffee while taking a powdered donut – her favorite flavor. Just as she was going to take a bite, the shrill of Eric's whistling caught everyone's attention in the bullpen. All of their heads turned to the stairs, where the analyst stood at the very top, tablet in his hand.

"Hetty wants you all up in ops, debriefing the last case."

With those words he was already gone and left the agents standing stunned in the room.

"No crazy whistle? What is it today?" Callen joked before jogging up the two landings of stairs with Sam next to him.

Kensi put her coffee along with the donut on her desk and sighed heavily. She had been looking forward to eating it.

"You coming?" She turned to Deeks and grabbed his upper arms as soon as she saw the color of his face.

"Whoa, what's going on?"

Well, there goes his plan of not showing the rest of the team that maybe he isn't feeling that well. As soon as he stood up from his chair, everything went black, and if it weren't for Kensi's arms, he wouldn't be standing anymore.

Deeks took a deep breath through his nose and exhaled through his mouth. That should help with nausea and dizziness, right? He registered that Kensi was asking him something, but, with the best will in the world, he couldn't tell what it was – he was focusing on not passing out.

Without further thinking about Kensi's question, or if his answer would fit to it, he mumbled, "I need to sit down."

"No, not sit down, lie down," Kensi replied and navigated him to couch, fastening her grip on Deeks' biceps.

He was as white as a ghost and seemed to be fighting against a dizzy spell, at least that was what Kensi was guessing. So she had been right that Deeks wasn't okay.

"Kensi? Deeks? You coming?" she heard Callen's voice from above her and tried to calm her voice before she answered him.

"Callen, something isn't right with Deeks! Can you come down?"

In the background, Callen exchanged some words with Hetty, before Kensi noticed his steps coming closer to her.

"Okay, Deeks, we're going to get you on the couch now, alright?" Kensi whispered in her partner's ears and eased him on the brown sofa.

His breathing was still very controlled, but heavy, and he had his eyes firmly closed. Callen, who was standing behind Kensi, looked at the scene playing in front of him for a moment, before he laid Deeks flat on the couch and motioned Kensi to lift up his legs.

"What happened?"

"I don't know. He got up from his chair and nearly blacked out," Kensi said while holding Deeks' ankles in her hand and trying to get blood into his head.

Callen frowned at her words and put his hand onto Deeks' temple.

"He has a fever und I guess it's quite high."

By this time he was more concerned about the detective and tapped lightly on his cheeks.

"Deeks? Can you hear me?"

Several seconds later the ocean blue eyes tried to focus on his superior's ones, but remained a bit dazed.

"I'm fine," Deeks offered and blinked a few times.

"No, Mr. Deeks, you are most definitely not fine. When your blood circulation regains its proper form, then Miss Blye will drive you to the doctor and then straight home," intervened Hetty, who, as always, stepped beside her agents without making a sound.

"Hetty, it isn't necessary, really."

"Yes, I think it is. You have dizzy spells, fever as well as a sore throat and severe headaches. You need to recuperate and that you can do best in your own four walls. I do not want to see you here before Wednesday."

With those words, Hetty was already gone and left three stunned agents.

"How does she do that? I didn't even mention my throat or the headaches," Deeks mumbled.

"Yeah, and why not, hmm?" Kensi demanded in a not so gentle voice.

"Are you worried about me? Admit it, you are worried about me." Deeks grinned and didn't flinch when the expected punch to his lower leg Kensi was still elevating came.

"Of course I'm worried about you when you show up at work, sick, and pretend like nothing is wrong, idiot!" Kensi snapped before she shut her mouth.

It wasn't her style to worry about someone – not at all.

"Sorry."

Callen watched the little conversation between the two of them with an amused smile, before clearing his throat.

"Do you think we can get you home? Or do you need another minute?"

"It's fine." Deeks freed his legs from Kensi's grip and sat up.

Not a good idea. The former dull headaches he had had for several days now increased like they wanted his head to explode. Deeks winced in pain, pressed his hands to his temples, and took a deep breath.

"You sure?" Callen broached the subject again and pulled Deeks, after a slight nod, together with Kensi in a standing position, although the Detective was swaying a concerning amount.

Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale. Deeks repeated the sentence like a mantra in his head while he was led by Kensi and Callen to the silver SRX. When he was pushed onto the passenger seat, he heard Callen say to Kensi, "Take care of him."