warnings: domestic violence, racist slurs, misogynist slurs, rape, rape culture, trauma
Callen leads Janvier to the toilet stall. Janvier closes the door. Callen opens it. "Nope," Callen says. "This really isn't fun for me, but this door will not be closed."
Callen searches Janvier and finds the pen before the meeting as well.
xxx
Kensi takes down her ponytail, shakes her hair out. She runs her fingers through her hair, almost pulling it. She puts her hair back in the ponytail. Her day is catching up with her. Her fingers tremble.
"I vote you let your hair down," Deeks says from behind her.
"Nope," she says.
"We literally saved the world, Kens. Two nuclear bombs are back in the possession of the US government, Vaziri is dead, Siderov is dead, Janvier is in super max security, Michelle is home with her kids, and you and I are here, and safe." He's stepped closer with every word, now she feels his breath on the back of her head.
She refuses to turn around. It's the dumbest thing in the world, but she won't. She's standing still, eyes forward. It's a point she's making. She says, "Callen and Granger are in the hospital."
Deeks says, "Both will be out tomorrow. Okay, Callen got shot again, but it's just the shoulder and he's been shot so many times, he'll bounce right back."
Kensi says, "You're in a good mood." She smiles, because he's smiling. She can't see it. She knows it, though.
He puts his hands on her shoulders. She tenses. He says, "Well."
"I bet you want to talk," she says. Against her will, her shoulders relax down her back. His hands are warm and familiar, even though she doesn't let him touch her. Not often. But it's still a good, welcome feel and smell. She loves his smell.
"I started the conversation," he says.
"Yeah," she says. His thumbs press into the base of her neck. She is embarrassed, her feet are stuck to the ground. Her knees are weak, she feels tight and coiled between her legs. He makes her wet. She's 14, she doesn't know anything about boys but she talks with her friends at school and they don't know anything either. He makes her feel that young, that naive. She says, "Good conversation starter."
"Kensi," he says. "I think you're jealous because you are. You're a green eyed monster. If you think I act like a 14 year old, well, it's because of how I feel about you. And you know it. And I know it. No bullshitting. No dancing around it. I want you and I'm pretty sure you want me."
Want is the wrong word, she thinks. She wants to think that. She definitely imagines him in all those suburban couple owning a SUV ways she has never thought about it except for him. She needs him. She blinks. She closes her eyes. "Maybe," she mumbles. She shrugs him off and turns around.
She kisses him, mouth open. There is a lot of want in there. A lot of being 14 and nothing to be afraid of and a wave of she is supposed to want. It's okay, it's Deeks. She tugs at his jeans to bring him closer. She thinks he is smirking into the kiss. "I like this," she says.
"Who doesn't like kissing? But Kensi," he says. "This isn't actually talking."
"You think it's communication," she says. He laughs.
"Fine, you win," he says.
"I think you win," she says. She is already working at his belt.
"Oh, god, I really want to do this, like, all of this, but we should probably not here."
She steps back. "Oh my god, you are so right. What the fuck is wrong with me?"
"Absolutely nothing," he says, kissing her again. He buckles his belt and says, "Your place or mine?"
"Mine," she says. "In case you don't have any condoms with you, there's that store right there for you."
"We are jumping right into this," he says. He's grabbing her hand and his bag at the same time. He doesn't sound worried about it. His adorable confidence, she thinks. His beautiful hands. She used to try to draw of all things, when she was 14, she tried to draw men's hands.
"Good," she says.
Just like that, they're in her car. He grips her thigh and she feels the warmth of his hand from her toes to between her legs. For once, he's not talking and she's not talking. She feels like nothing much needs to be said. She stops outside the store and idles while Deeks runs in. She takes the time to park carefully but they both burst out of the car. One deep breath in and out and they're inside her apartment. Deeks pushes her against the door, pulling her legs up and around his hips.
He says, "What do you say, let's go for some serious heavy petting out here -"
"You fuck me on the bed, not on the floor," she says, grinding against him.
He groans a little. She is happy. They kiss and she has her hands in his hair and he is cupping her ass and she is already a little wetter at just the urgency of it. She is so very very warm and the room feels soothing and cool at her back. She is not interested in soothing right now. Then he pulls back a bit and says, "Bed now, okay?"
He carries her into the bedroom and drops her on the bed. He's on top of her a second later. She breathes out. She pushes off his jeans and boxer briefs with one shove. She thinks his belt is somewhere in her living room. He does the same to her and she lifts her hips to make it easier for him. He rolls off her to shuck off his shirt and she takes hers off. So they're naked. She says, "Wow."
"We haven't even done anything yet," he says. He rolls onto his side and she does the same so they're face to face.
"We made out a lot. We bought condoms," she says. She would giggle or laugh at the absurdity of this right now, his gorgeous body laid out in front of her. If she could do anything.
He runs his thumb along the underside of her breasts. Her breath is ragged. She reaches out and holds his hard dick in her hand. Now their breathing matches.
He kissed her. She feels like he's a step ahead or something. She says, "I want you to fuck me." So now they're even.
Things go back to hyperspeed. They're pressed against each other, kissing. They break apart so he can get the condoms. She puts one on him. She pushes him onto his back. He pulls her toward his face. His beard feels good against her thighs and pussy. She pulls back and lowers herself onto him. His hands dig into her hips. She leans forward so his every thrust gets her right where she wants. He comes, she comes.
"That was," she says, smiling at the ceiling, "that was awesome."
"Thank you," Deeks says. He comes back from the bathroom and flops on the bed next to her. "You were great, too."
"You know it." She shifts closer to him. "I am kind of exhausted."
"So worn out," he says. "I mean me."
"Talk for real in the morning," she says.
"Sure," he mumbles. He kisses her hair.
She sleeps like there is nothing wrong in the world at all. They don't even talk until after she showers and he showers and she starts the coffee. He says, "That is an incredibly cute outfit."
"Ha ha," she says. She's only wearing pink underwear. It was on top of the clean pile and this pair has tiny dots that are really hearts. It is not the underwear she would plan to wear but, if he asks, she is prepared to say they were on top of the pile. It's not a message or something. Even Kensi is allowed to wear cute underwear. She bought them with Nell, at Barney's, it's a good memory. She pours herself a cup of coffee and watches him pour himself one. He's naked. "Are we really at this stage now?"
"Don't actually have clean underwear here. I was gonna throw my pants on, go commando, get my bag out of your car." He smirks. "You don't think I look cute?"
She blushes. "I guess." She looks down at her coffee. "It's a nice view."
"Me, too," he says, staring at her breasts.
"How many times did you sleep with Monica?" She says it without even thinking about the words pushing out of her mouth.
He says, "I told you, I didn't." He doesn't look at her. Not even her breasts.
"Stop lying to me," she says, not even angry. She just had this thought of Monica and now she feels like she just remembered this is very very important to her.
"Okay," he says. "Okay. A few times. A lot. Whatever." He rubs his chin and then puts down his coffee. "I lied to you because, because you're the one I want."
"We have to do a lot of that stuff for the job," she says. "So, you know. Did you go and sleep with her after we talked, after Snyder died? Did you sleep with her that night?" Did he have that promise on his lips while he fucked her, she thinks but she can't say that without crying.
"No," he says. He looks her in the eye for a long time. "I didn't. I didn't see her for a few days after all that."
"Okay," she says. She hands him his coffee cup back. "It's okay, I just, I just want to talk about it, like, for real." She sips her own coffee. She's good.
"Okay," he says. "You're good, I'm good. Speaking of. We had sex last night."
"We had really good sex last night," she says, laughing. He steps closer and kisses her.
They don't manage to talk about anything before they get to work. Somehow by osmosis, they've decided not to hide but not to advertise.
There's a ton of paperwork from saving the world, Kensi thinks. Janvier shot Renko and he died in front of her. She wishes he was dead like Renko and Hunter.
There's also follow-up. Closing holes in the investigations. Sam is home with his wife, using his vacation for once. Callen is rehabbing at the hospital and home. It's just the two of them there. They actually get a lot of work done. By five, though, both of them are tired and unfocused. Kensi catches Deeks looking at Sam's seat. She says, "Do you miss Sam?"
Deeks looks down, smiling. "Actually, no. I dunno. We had a not great conversation while monitoring Siderov."
"Not great?" She comes over and sits next to him.
"Yeah, he hates my hair."
"Your hair?" She almost laughs but stops when she sees his face. Not that he's looking at her.
"It's reflective of my character which he also doesn't think much of. I guess. It's been years, Kens, exactly what am I supposed to do more than I have for him to not be so … Sam?" Then he sighs and laughs. He looks at the ground and she wonders how often that white teeth on display smile is a little baby lie. "Honestly, whatever. He's an ass, I'm great."
"You should talk to Callen," she says.
"Right, he's gonna be on Sam's side."
"Whoa, let's not make this even more childish. I think it's clear you have Callen's respect. But mostly, he's in charge. This is his team. And he knows Sam best, so if you two have a problem you can't figure out yourself, he's the one to go to."
Deeks says, "That doesn't sound like high school at all."
"You're not the one judging Sam by his hair," Kensi says. She grins.
"So you have my side," Deeks says.
"I do not," she says. "I think you're great. At your job, as a person, and at least very good when it comes to skills. But I like Sam, too. It's not easy being a woman at this job, and Sam's never made it an issue from day one. He treats me, he's been very good to me." She has a tiny catch in her throat, even.
"He likes your character fine," Deeks says. He looks pouty. He didn't notice her voice or he's focused on his anger more than her. He doesn't do that often.
"You know, he was really stressed about Michelle," Kensi says.
"That's not an excuse," Deeks says.
"No, I know." She pats his hand. He looks fierce but he calms down. "I would say, see what he does when he comes back. Maybe he'll apologize on his own."
"Unlikely," Deeks says.
"Then talk to Callen," Kensi says.
"Maybe," he says. "But it's 5 now, so let's go home."
"You mean, let's get dinner," she says.
They get burgers and go back to Deeks's place. They eat and watch Law and Order SVU episodes until they're sleepy. Except when they get to the bed, they don't fall asleep. The sex is again completely awesome. It takes longer this time, like they're taking time to savor the meal. She could do this for a long, long time and thinking that doesn't make her the least bit scared. It's Deeks.
In the morning, as soon as she's awake, Deeks says, "You know, I wondered." He's drawing circles on her stomach and it makes her smile. He says, "Why didn't your mom, I mean after your father died." He starts making the circles in the opposite direction. "Why didn't she get custody? How does that even work? I know you were, you ran -" He stops making circles, presses his lips together.
"How do you even know that?" She sits up. It feels like sludge sitting in her stomach.
"Hetty," he says. "Sorry, you don't have to answer. It's just the awkward question I wanted to ask."
"I never told Hetty," she says."No, it's okay. It's a stupid story. My grandparents, my dad's parents, they came down as soon as they were notified. They said they had custody of me. When my mom called, they would just tell her that I didn't want to be with her, I wanted to stay with my grandparents. Which was sort of true. But they also told me she didn't ask very hard, you know? They hated her. They moved, I was supposed to move with them, back where they lived. But I ran away. They never reported it. And everyone at school or on the base, they thought I'd moved. When my mom called, they told her I didn't want to talk to her."
She lays back down and stares at the ceiling. Deeks just rests his hand on her stomach but it's warming. "They hired a private investigator to find me. It only took ten months. I remember, my grandfather said they didn't want people to know because that kind of thing follows you around. It's on your record. And then, you know, they never gave me the letters from my mother, they never let her speak to me. I thought she didn't want me. When my grandparents died, I found all these records. And letters. I knew my mom tried so hard. But I didn't want to think about it. And I didn't, until I saw her in her house. And I felt so ashamed that I hadn't tried, too." She turns to look at him. "And now we're done talking about that."
This is their pattern: sex, random awkward serious conversations in bursts, work, sex, sleep. He has Monty so she's over there every night that week.
He talks about Monica more though thankfully briefly. He says the only reason he went under as Max was because someone at the club recognized him. "But it was easy to be like that with her," he say, looking at the floor.
He mentions once how he's wanted her for a long time. "Nearly nothing I said about wanting you was a lie," he says. She makes fun of his sentence construction.
She tells him about Dom, earlier partners, even a little about Jack. She tells herself he has more secrets than she does.
The sex is always a little mindblowing. "How does that happen," she says. She mumbles, more like, into his shoulder. Sometimes they are so good, she can barely move or think. She hasn't had it this good since Jack.
"Maybe we've been waiting so long," he says.
"Maybe we're both super fit and awesome at this," she says.
He laughs.
On Monday, Callen comes back and Sam as well. Sam acts like normal. Kensi feels a stab of guilt that he's so nice to her and he says things like he did to Deeks. She knows it's not her fault, she has nothing to do with it, but she still feels responsible. In typical Deeks fashion, she only knows something's going on because Deeks told her before. This morning he's funny and kind just like always. Sam is polite and even friendly. She feels that guilt in her shoulders, braced against something bad.
Eric summons them with an actual trumpet. "I think his need for these flourishes is getting out of hand," Deeks says.
"Gotta agree with you," Sam says, as they go up the stairs.
Kensi's pretty sure she's the only one who notices the brief clench of Deeks's jaw.
xx
Marty's focused on the screen and not thinking about Kensi's absolutely perfect tits and ass or Sam being an ass of another sort entirely. Eric is talking about a case they caught at the Navy Yard. "When they got there, Sgt. Gehdirk's wife was waiting at the door. She had shot him, she said, because he was going to kill the whole family, starting with her."
"Good for her," he says quietly.
"Again, I agree with Deeks," Sam says. Marty wonders if all this agreeing is an oblique apology. He doubts it.
"Gibbs agreed with you, too," Eric says. "That would be Special Agent Gibbs -"
"Yes," Marty says. "We all know who he is. The man, the myth, the legend." Marty is not in the mood for the tedious explanation.
Nell says, "Mrs. Gehdirk had a number of tales to tell about her husband. She says he belonged to an evangelical sect slash support group slash white supremacist terrorist cult. She said there are members throughout the military and the branches of police like NCIS and JAG and various PDs around the country."
"Gibbs consulted with the FBI. They've heard rumors about it, but it's been very hard to pin down. NCIS is a particular target of this group, according to our informant for obvious reasons," Eric says. He puts up a picture of Director Vance in case anyone doesn't get it.
"So," Nell says, "Director Vance wants us to infiltrate this group. Find a way in, figure out if they're really dangerous."
Callen nods. "Did he have any suggestions for that?"
Nell smiles. More info pops up on the screens. "Here's what we know from the Marine's wife. To me, it suggests a few avenues we could purse."
Callen makes a face of "oh, REALLY?" which he quickly covers. Nell starts suggesting and Callen makes a face of "oh, damn I was about to say that" that he also very quickly covers. Kensi smirks in in what Marty is sassy sisterhood.
Sam says, "I love these white supremacist investigations. I get to sit back and watch."
"Yeah," Callen says. "Let's start building a legend for me and Deeks. We can be cousins." They collectively work out how to make Callen and Deeks the most attractive for recruiting as good old boys who love Jesus and white men. Callen ends with, "Let's do it quick, the two of us should head to San Diego tonight."
Eric and Nell start laying in the legend they'll need. It has to be extra good since as Kensi says, "There may be people from our own agency looking into this. No one can see the traces, guys." She even sounds worried which warms the cockles of Marty's heart. He turns back to the info in front of him about the two men they need to connect with in San Diego.
He and Callen drive down in Marty's new undercover car, a shitty old Ford with with a Jesus fish on the back. Callen isn't a vicious killjoy so they actually do practice and rehearse in the car. They're cousins. They're both born again. They're racist and misogynist. They are still a little charming because they need to win over this guy. Luckily, the guy they need to win over is just as unlikable as they are supposed to be so they don't have to be too charming. Just charmingly Aryan.
Callen says, "If this works tonight, we're in for the long haul, you know."
"Won't be the first time for me or you," Marty says.
Callen nods. "But we're being unpleasant people. Not in our usual way."
Marty smiles and shrugs. "As crappy as we are about to be, I have to say, I've been worse."
"Same," Callen says. "Doesn't make it fun."
"But it's for a good cause," Marty says. "That makes everything worthwhile, right?"
They go back to drilling down on their legend, getting comfortable with it. Finally they pull in outside the last bar their main target bought beers at. Marty and Callen exchange a look. Their guy is on a stool, chatting quietly with another man next to him. Marty sits down on the empty stool next to their guy, whose name Marty is blanking so it won't sound familiar when he hears it. He and Callen quietly watch the hockey game on ESPN behind the bar, smiling at the deeply shitty racist jokes the two next to him are telling. At a particularly gross one, he laughs out loud. He says, "Sorry, that was funny, man."
"Not everybody thinks so," says Their Guy.
"Nothing but the truth," Callen says, his eyes on the hockey game.
Marty holds out his hand, says, "Hey, I'm Jake, this is my cousin Curt. Curt just got discharged so we're -"
"Telling everyone we meet our life story," Callen says, snorting.
"Hard to meet good people," Marty says.
"Hi, Jake, I'm Bobby," Their Guy says. "Discharged from hospital or military?"
Callen says "Army," and then they get talking in earnest. Marty and Callen blow the right dogwhistles, share the right opinions, make it clear that they hate the same groups of people and smile like they like it the whole time.
"You're lucky, you got out in time. I got a friend, poor guy, you're in long enough, some woman -" Bobby says.
"Oooh, let me guess, some woman who think she's so equal and liberated sleeps with him, wakes up embarrassed, calls it rape because she's realized she's a slut and voila, he's the one in trouble," Marty says.
Bobby nods. "Exactly. He didn't get in too much trouble though you know those accusations always follow you around. A woman sees that, she never ever forgives. So when he gets killed in a car accident," he makes air quotes around accident. "The female cop is like oh, it's an accident. She doesn't care."
"That's not the way justice should be done," Callen says.
"Yeah," Bobby says. "But I got a friend in NCIS, he's looking into it."
"Navy cops," Callen says, dismissively. "It's funny how all these kids today want to be in CGIS because of the show. And there's like four of them actually in CGIS."
"I like the original CGIS, but not the Pacific one. They hired that rapper guy, you know?" Bobby's friend contributes that gem of wisdom.
They talk for a solid two hours of filth and depravity. Neither he nor Callen push very much, it's all hail fellow of bigoted evil, so nice to meet you. Callen mentions they got a place in Carpinteria, and asks Bobby if he knows of a "good" church. Bobby suggests one and they're finally done.
Outside, walking to the car, Callen takes out of a pack of cigarettes and offers Marty one. "Are we allowed to smoke," Marty says lightly as he takes one.
"Absolutely," Callen says. "It's a palette cleanser."
Marty nods and thinks of the smoke in his throat as burning away the shit he's just said.
Callen drives them to Carpinteria. He follows the directions on his new secure secret Curt phone. Marty already has his new Jake phone tucked in his jacket. Their new apartment in Carpinteria is already outfitted, someone did a bang up job while they were in San Diego. Curt and Jake both have jobs they can do from their apartment, some kind of internet customer service thing, so they each have a nice new computer in their separate bedrooms. Marty sits down, turns it on, plays around a little bit. He installs some things, personalizes them for his new alias. Then he kicks off his shoes and flops on the bed. He digs out his own Marty Deeks phone and texts Kensi hello and goodnight.
He wakes up and she hasn't answered.
"Breakfast in, breakfast out?" Callen says.
"Which has the strongest coffee?" Marty says.
Callen looks through the cupboards and says, "We have coffee here but it would take time to make." He pokes the coffee maker on the counter. "One time, I worked at this place where you could push a button and get a cappuccino. Very fancy machine."
"One time I was a barista," Marty says.
"Yeah, same," Callen says. "I like the machine better."
"We're going out," Marty says. They find a diner and hunker down across from each other.
After they order and get their food and coffee, Callen says, "So far, the info we had is lining up."
"I wonder why one of this group's churchy outposts is here. Kinda small town."
"You can get to Los Angeles in under two hours, Santa Barbara even closer. Maybe it's easier for people to come here than dodge undesirables in big cities."
Marty nods. A young white couple with three small kids sits down in the next booth so they go back to silence and grunts.
They both have a cigarette outside their apartment building, in the parking lot, smiling and nodding to their new neighbors. Marty drives their new old car to Santa Barbara where they pull into a safe house and switch back to being Deeks and Callen.
In the car, Callen says, "So. In case it wasn't clear, you are and have been doing pretty good work for NCIS these last three years."
"Thanks," he mutters. "Are you letting me know you don't agree with your partner?"
"I'm telling you as the team leader. Sam is … Sam."
"So it's all okay when he acts like I can't even do my job even though you and Hetty and Kensi disagree." Marty pushes his hair back from his forehead. "Sorry, that sounded whiny. It's fine."
Callen says, "It's not. Which is why I'm telling you this specifically. But we can be done now."
"Ugh, smoker, you stink," Kensi says with her usual morning eloquence as she sits down next to him.
"I'll change," he says. "And brush. And floss. But it's part of the cover, you better get used to it."
She grimaces. She looks adorable. She sticks out her tongue. Still adorable. He says, "Or I won't do any of that since you didn't reply to my text."
"You were undercover," Kensi says.
"And since it was my very first time ever undercover, I decided to break my cover and text you. Which is not the case at all so you could have replied, if you wanted to."
"Are we fighting?" She looks at him suspiciously.
"Spending 12 hours being human scum takes its toll. I just wanted to be reminded of, you know, the world outside, a little light in the darkness." He smiles and she relaxes.
"Fine," she says. "Point taken."
He finishes up his report. "Callen," he says. "I'm looking up that case Bobby mentioned, maybe we can get a line on some of his contacts in NCIS."
"Unfortunately," Sam says. "Unfortunately, we can't do anything when we identify him."
"Not yet," Callen says.
He loves his apartment even more after the dump in Carpinteria. It's not that crappy a place, but it's anonymous and has no Monty and he doesn't even have to share it with Callen. Not that Callen is such a bad roommate, but Marty hasn't lived with someone since law school.
"I could be naked," he tells Monty. Monty is not enthused.
Then Kensi unlocks his door and comes right in. "Not even knocking," he says.
"Nope," she says.
"Really?"
She sits down on the couch and turns on the tv. She says, "I've had my fingers up your butt, that means no more knocking."
He sits down next to her. "First, thanks for making that sound so sexy. Second, I'm not sure butt stuff is actually some sign of cohabitation or anything -"
She says, "Uh, we're not cohabitating. I'm not moving in here. That would be weird."
"But you coming in without even knocking like you live here because we've done some things sexually is not weird." He laughs.
"It is weird," she says. She's smiling, too. She is basically the most gorgeous woman he's ever known. She says, "But you're weird. So this relationship is weird because of you."
"You're not weird," he says. "I was lying there, by the way."
"Less weird than you," she says.
"Disagree," he says.
"I just end up spending a lot of time here because we have to take care of Monty," she says. She springs up off the couch and then comes back with a pint of ice cream.
"We, you say," he says.
"Who takes care of Monty when you're not here?"
"My neighbor. She has the keys and everything. She comes over when I'm not home by 8. She had Monty last night, by the way." He takes the spoon from her and has some ice cream himself. She sticks her tongue out at him. "Twice in one day," he says. "You're not just classy, you're original and innovative."
"Whatever," she says. "So how many nights and mornings in Carpinteria?"
"Looks like four nights, including Saturday," he says.
"And church on Sunday," she says.
"Crappy white supremacist church, you wouldn't want to go anyway." He puts his hand on her thigh, feels the warmth of her, the strength of her muscle.
"Doesn't sound fun," she says. She actually snuggles closer to him.
"Not like us, we're years of fun. Decades of fun." He waits for her to tense and push away.
"You're testing me," she says, laughing. "I'm not scared. You're weird, I'm less weird, we're jumping into this, it will be okay."