A/N – I am truly humbled by the reviews, follows and trackbacks the first chapter received. Truly.
Rating – T, I guess? This chapter contains no M rated material.
Disclaimer – I don't own NCIS Los Angeles. You can tell that by the fact I have not written myself onto the show, spending an episode just watching Kensi & Deeks interact, and going "Now kiiiiiisssss" the whole time. All foreign languages used in this chapter are via Google translate, so blame them.


Callen stood with his back to the main centre flat-bed console, watching as Deeks and Kensi filed in. It appeared that the Detective's mouth hadn't stopped moving. Wryly, Callen shook his head; he might love Kensi like a sister, but rather her than him.

"Can I just say you look amazing today, though?" Deeks was saying.

Kensi didn't even look back at him, but Callen couldn't help but notice the first half-smile of the day that crossed her lips. "No, you may not," she replied.

"So not even that's gonna get you talking, huh?" grinned Deeks.

"Ahem," came the rough and pointed voice of Henrietta 'Hetty' Lang. "Ms. Blye, Detective Deeks, so glad you could join us at last."

Kensi's mouth thinned into an apology towards the small woman who was their boss, and possibly the most deceptively dangerous person in the building. Maybe even the city. The partners took a spot standing on the other side of the console, Deeks leaning forward onto his elbows. Callen turned to the Ops team.

"What'ya got, Eric?"

The lanky tech wizard began tapping his stylus furiously on the pad in his hands; behind him, on the large plasma screen, an image sprang into life. CCTV footage, grey and grainy, of a light coloured van skidding to a halt in the middle of a busy street. Four black clad men rushed out, opening fire into the air, before grabbing another man and bundling him into the back of the van.

"This footage," said Eric, "was taken on Hollywood Blvd two days ago. A white transit van came out of nowhere, four men jumping out and apparently kidnapped another after firing into the air."

"Kidnapping?" said Sam, crossing his large arms over his chest. "Isn't that the FBI's jurisdiction?"

"It is, and they're working on the case."

"So what does this have to do with NCIS?"

"Because there was another victim," said Eric. A fresh image flashed into view; a military ID, of a young man with sombre brown eyes and a long face. Next to it, a second image appeared; this one of the same sailor, eyes staring at nothing, and a pinpoint bullet hole in the centre of his forehead.

"Meet Petty Officer Dominic Valdez," said Nell Jones, the petite red head taking up the briefing. "While the kidnappers were shooting, no doubt to scare people back from them, it appears the Petty Officer was hit with a stray round. He was killed instantly."

"So what did Valdez do?" asked Deeks. It was the strange thing about the man; he could be a pain in the neck one minute, and so focussed the next. He hadn't always been like that, of course. Maybe it was Kensi, finally rubbing off on the man. He's certainly rubbing off on her, thought Callen.

It was Eric who replied; "He worked at the Long Beach Naval Base, as a low level communications clerk. He was on leave, shopping with his girlfriend, when the incident took place."

Something about this still wasn't adding up to Callen. "So the FBI wants our help with this?" he asked. "It's not like them to want to play with others." He knew that from personal experience, which was one of the reasons he now preferred his job with NCIS.

"Not bloody likely," said Hetty. "In fact, they pretty much told us to keep our noses out of it. The Petty Officer, they claim, was just an innocent bystander; the real case is the kidnapping."

"They do have a point," said Kensi. "Plus, they've got a pretty big head start on us."

"And you're just the team to play catch-up," came an all too familiar voice from the doorway. Callen turned, knowing who to expect, and barely keeping the groan from spilling out.

"Ah, Assistant Director Granger," said Hetty. "I wondered when you would grace us with your presence again."

"I was in the area," came Granger's reply. He moved his gaze across every member of the team. "As soon as this report crossed my desk, I knew that NCIS needed to be a part of the investigation."

Something clicked in Callen's brain. "You're the one who wanted us on this case? What is it? Did you have Valdez under surveillance for something, just like you did with Kensi?"

Granger's face betrayed no response. The man must have been one hell of a poker player, Callen thought. "The things I do, Mr. Callen," said Granger, "are my own, and for my own reasons."

"Yeah, and we all know how well that worked out for you in the past," said Deeks, earning a brief and friendly smile from his partner.

Granger, instead, stared daggers at the detective. "Just investigate the death, Agent Callen," he growled. "And keep me in the loop about anything you might uncover. That's all." Without saying goodbye, he turned on his heel and exited Ops.

Callen turned to Hetty. "There's more going on here that he's letting us know," he said.

The woman nodded. "Just do your jobs," she said, "but be extra careful. Whatever the Assistant Director is up to, chances are it is significant."

Callen turned to his team. "Okay, Kensi, Deeks, why don't you –?"

He was cut off as Deeks leapt into the air with a yelp. Everyone in Ops stared at him, but he just locked eyes with Kensi, shock and surprise writ clear on his face. She, for her part, matched the other's look with annoyed confusion.

"Problem, Mr. Deeks?" asked Hetty.

Finally, it seemed to dawn on Deeks that there were others present, and he looked about him sheepishly. "No, no, not at all. There was – there was a spider – here, on the desk – but it's gone now. The, the spider, that is."

Sam laughed. "You need to man up, Deeks. You haven't seen a real spider until there's one as big as your head trying to climb into your sleeping bag with you."

"Hey, I'll have you know that some of the most dangerous spiders around are the smallest."

"Is that something a girlfriend told you, when she was telling you size doesn't matter?"

"No, it was on the Discovery Channel," complained Deeks, possibly intentionally missing the point.

Callen shook his head, grinning. "Kensi, why don't you go speak to Valdez's girlfriend, see if anything odd springs out. Take the baby with you. Sam and I'll check out the scene, see if there's anything LAPD or the FBI might have missed."

Kensi nodded, heading towards the door. Deeks followed her, rubbing his rump.

"In the meantime, Eric, I want you to dig into Valdez's history, see if you can find anything about why Granger's so interested in this guy. And look into the kidnapping too, see how far along the FBI have got."

"You got it," he replied, already turning to his computer.

"What are you thinking, Mr. Callen?" asked Hetty.

"Just a hunch," Callen replied, simply. "Just a hunch."


Sam pulled the black Charger up on the side of the road, and killed the engine. Hollywood Boulevard was certainly hopping now, as shoppers and tourists filled the streets, a thick thong of humanity moving backwards and forwards on the sidewalk.

"You know," said Callen, as he stepped out of the passenger side and glanced up and down the road, taking everything in, "I got moved about in foster homes a lot when I was younger."

"What's your point?" said Sam, shutting the door behind him and locking it.

"I'm just saying that's not very White Collar."

Sam grinned, shaking his head as he moved round the car to join his partner. It's gonna be like this, is it? he thought.

Callen continued; "Some would say that it's more Street than anything else."

"You're looking at it all wrong, G. Being Street isn't so much about the life you've had, it's more a personal philosophy. An aura, if you want."

"I don't get it," replied Callen, starting to walk down the street, through the thick rows of pedestrians.

"I'm just saying, you look more at home in a suit than you do in a wife beater and baggy jeans."

"I've had to wear those before."

"Yeah, and you stuck out like a sore thumb. No offense."

"Plenty taken," replied Callen.

"It's like – " He paused, trying to articulate his thoughts. "It's like Deeks. You know where he grew up, what sort of childhood he had, the neighbourhood he comes from, but to look at him he looks like a typical privileged surf kid. There's nothing Street about the way he looks."

Callen nodded, understanding. Then a thought crossed his mind. "But I am more Street than him, right?"

"G," replied Sam, "Hetty's more Street than Deeks."

Callen grinned. "Hetty's more Street than anyone. Hold up." He paused, looking around them. "We're here."

'Here' was definitely the right place. On the kerb were the long black marks of tire skid. Several nearby stores had still boarded up front windows, some with hand painted signs that assured passers-by that they were, indeed, open. Brickwork on some of the buildings bore the unmistakable damage of bullet holes. Shreds of yellow police tape littered the ground, pushed into corners and gutters.

"LAPD sure put this place back together quickly," said Sam. "I doubt we're going to get much."

"Let's try in here," said Callen, gesturing with his chin towards a newsagents.

The bell on the door jingled as Callen led the way inside. Soft music, heavy on the sitar, piped over speakers, and the store was bathed in fluorescent yellow lighting. A wizened Asian man stood behind the counter, finishing serving a small boy a packet of bubblegum, while the child's mother watched on. The customers left, and the two agents approached the counter.

"Federal Agents," said Callen, flashing his badge at the man, as Sam did the same. "We'd like to ask you some questions about the kidnapping that happened out front a few days ago."

The man sighed at them. "I already told the LAPD and the FBI everything I know, which isn't much."

"Then it won't take you long to tell us," said Callen.

"Look," said the man. "I was in the store, when I heard shooting. At first, I thought someone was trying to rob me, but then I realised it was coming from outside. Then, I heard people shouting instructions."

"Instructions?" asked Sam. "Not the crowd, trying to get away?"

"No, most definitely instructions. I didn't understand the words, but the tone was clearly a command."

"Not English?" asked Callen, and the man shook his head. "Anything stand out that you might remember?"

"Only one thing that one of them kept saying; 'lat-rappi' or something like that."

Callen rolled the words around in his brain. "l'attrapper?" he asked.

"Yes," said the man, nodding his head.

"French," said Callen, to Sam. "They were saying to grab the guy."

"French," sighed Sam. "Why's it always the French?"

Callen spoke again to the old man; "You have any security tapes from that day?"

But the man shook his head. "No, the FBI already took them."

Callen sighed. Of course they would have. "Okay, thanks for your help."

"So, what are you thinking?" asked Sam as they stepped back out onto the street.

"I'm thinking I'm still not sure what any of this has to do with us." He flipped open his cell, and dialled. When it was answered, he switched it to speaker and said, "Eric, you had any luck tracking the van used?"

"Not so far," came the tinny reply. "The licence came back as a rental, but the name and address of the rentee was a fake. So far, it's not showing up on Kaleidoscope."

"Keep looking. What about seeing the FBI's case files?"

"Hetty's on the phone now, trying to get a look."

"Not looking good for you so far, Eric," said Sam. "That's two strikes. You get anywhere with our kidnap victim?"

"We have got a hit on that, at least," answered Nell. "Facial Rec brought up an LAPD file. His name's Robert Smith, small time criminal with a sheet of armed assault and drug violations. Just paroled a week ago."

"Doesn't sound like the kind of guy that would get kidnapped in broad daylight."

"Nell," said Callen, "have you got an address for Smith?"

"We've got one, not sure how current it is. Sending it to your phones now," she replied.

Callen ended the call. "Let's go check it out," he said to his partner.


"I'm sorry, I just – it all happened so fast. I really can't remember anything helpful. And God knows, I've tried."

"How long were you and Dominic dating?" asked Deeks, leaning forward from his perch on the dark tan sofa, and towards the cute blonde opposite him. His voice was loaded with compassion and understanding. Audrey Michaels dabbed a tissue under her eyes, soaking up the tears that had come, unbidden, almost instantly after he and Kensi had introduced themselves.

"About six months," she replied. "I work at a bar near the base, so we get a lot of servicemen in and out. They're always flirtatious, it's part and parcel of the job, but with Dom – there were just sparks, ya know? From the very first second. Just something about his soul that I could see and feel."

Deeks twitched an uncomfortable eye towards his partner, sat next to him. Yeah, I know that feeling, he thought. Aloud, he said; "Did he ever speak to you about the work he was doing?"

"Not really," she replied. "I mean, he told me what he did, but he never spoke about his day. He wasn't the kind of guy who needed to talk all the time."

"That must have been nice," said Kensi, a little too pointedly for Deeks' liking. Still, he couldn't stop the smirk that crossed his lips. "What about his family?"

"No," she replied, and Deeks could sense she was becoming more and more concerned. By the questions, sure, but also by her own answers. "I mean, I know his folks live in Chicago, but ever since he was transferred here, I don't think he's been to see them."

"Six months is a long time in a relationship to not introduce someone you love to your parents," said Kensi. Audrey broke eye contact, glancing over at a set of cupboards pushed against the wall of the two-bedroom apartment's living room. Atop it was a framed photo, no doubt of happier times; a smiling Valdez, in his uniform, with an arm around Audrey. They both looked so happy, thought Deeks.

"That was the day we met," she said, as if reading his mind. "I was at work, as usual. It was the middle of the day, so wasn't very busy, only about four guys in one corner. And Dom came in, sat right down at the bar and we just hit it off. When he asked the guys if they'd take a picture of us, I just couldn't believe he'd be so forthright. It was – exciting? We barely spent a day apart after that, aside from the weeks his work took him abroad."

"Abroad?" said Kensi. "I thought he was a desk jockey?"

Audrey shook her head, confusion knotting her brows. "No, no, he was part of some Navy think tank, working on the issues in the Middle East."

Deeks shared a meaningful look with his partner. Then they finished their questions, not getting a lot of further information, and said goodbye to the woman.

"So, what was that about?" asked Deeks as he hopped down the small flight of steps that ran from the front door to the street.

"Wouldn't be the first guy to lie about what he did for a living to impress a girl," said Kensi. "I bet you've done it enough times in your life. I'm just concerned that he didn't share a lot about his past with her; something about it's just throwing up red flags for me."

"Me too. But I'm not talking about that. I'm talking about you pinching my ass in Ops."

She stopped dead in the street, staring blankly at him. "I don't know what you're talking about," she replied eventually, before starting to head towards the car again. Even if he didn't already know, he could have heard the lie in her tone a mile off.

"Oh, right, it's gonna be like that is it?" he called after her. "You're just gonna brush it off?"

"You're imagining things, Deeks," she said over her shoulder as he scurried to catch her up.

"I'm not imagining things; I could barely sit down in the ride over here you squeezed it so hard. I might have even felt cuppage. Those car seats are not the most comfortable thing in the world, by the way. Maybe you'll need to install some extra foam if you're going to make a habit of it."

"Callen's right; you are a baby," she said.

"Hey, all I know is, your hand was on my buttocks, and you've been in a better mood ever since. That's the wonderful healing powers of my body."

"Just keep telling yourself that, Deeks." But there was no denying the playful smile on her lips. And he knew he was right about what had happened. "Callen's right," she said, the smile fading from her lips, clearly trying to get the conversation back on track. "Something about this whole thing just isn't adding up."