"Do you realize it's only six a.m. in Los Angeles?" Deeks asked as G pulled the rental car into the parking lot at the Navy Yard.

"And it's nine a.m. here," G replied. "And two p.m. in London. What's your point?"

"No point," Deeks said. "Just thinking that I should still be asleep. Except that you dragged my ass across the country."

"You slept plenty on the plane. Or you could have." G shut off the engine and stepped out of the car. "You been to the Navy Yard before?"

"Can't say that I have," Deeks said. "Take it this is one of D.C.'s hot spots?"

"Something like that."

The guard on duty was new - or at least different than the one G remembered from his last visit here. Still, G flashed his badge, and the guard passed him through with little fuss.

"He's with me," G said, nodding toward Deeks.

"ID, please, sir?" the guard asked.

Deeks offered his LAPD badge, and G added, "Detective Deeks, LAPD liaison to NCIS OSP in Los Angeles."

The guard chuckled. "You mean there's a branch of NCIS that voluntarily works with other agencies?"

"All the time," G said, grinning in response to the chuckle, though he cringed inwardly. It wasn't good to have a reputation of not wanting to cooperate with other agencies.

Deeks' visitor pass was sorted out quickly, and G led him to the elevators that would take them to Vance's office by way of the MCRT bullpen.

"How're we gonna play this?" Deeks asked as the elevator doors slid closed and G touched the button for the right floor.

G chuckled. "You sound like we're running an op on our own people."

"We kind of are," Deeks said.

"You've got it easy, then," G said. "Just be honest - you didn't really want to come, but I made you. Commiserate over lousy bosses."

Deeks grinned. "I can do that."

"Not too lousy," G cautioned. The doors opened and Deeks fell back with a yelp.

"What?" G asked.

"Good God, what is that?"

G held the door open, surveyed the room beyond.

"What's what?"

"All that - that - orange. It burns my eyes. It's like a demented McDonald's in there."

"Makes you appreciate home, doesn't it?" G clapped him on the shoulder. "C'mon, you won't go blind."

"You sure?" Deeks cautiously opened one eye, winced, then opened the other.

"Hasn't blinded anyone that I know of. Yet."

G stepped out of the elevator, Deeks' "Oh, that's very reassuring," following him.

G paused just outside the elevator, where he wouldn't block anyone else trying to use it, and surveyed the scene. The layout hadn't changed since he'd been here last. Only the people were different - and, in a stroke of luck, Tony DiNozzo sat behind his desk in G's immediate line of sight.

G didn't have to glance at Deeks to know the other man was with him as he approached.

"Agent DiNozzo. Long time no see."

DiNozzo frowned, clearly not sure what was going on, but the expression was gone in a blink, and he rose to come around his desk and offer his hand.

"Agent Callen. What brings you to this side of the country?"

G shook his hand. "Meeting with the director. Doesn't happen often, but some things are best discussed in person."

DiNozzo looked past him. "Deeks."

"DiNozzo."

The two men shook hands, and before either of them could say anything else, Agent Tim McGee emerged from behind his desk next to DiNozzo's and came forward.

"Agent Callen. Good to see you again."

"McGee." Callen shook his hand. "Detective Deeks wasn't with us when you visited."

"Marty Deeks," Deeks introduced himself as he, too, shook McGee's hand. "LAPD liaison."

A glance told G that the desks across from DiNozzo and McGee were empty. "Just you two in today?"

"Gibbs went for coffee," DiNozzo said. "And Bishop's out sick - stomach flu."

"Not fun." Movement in his peripheral vision made G look up to see Vance at the railing that overlooked the bullpen.

"That's my cue," he said. "Try not to get too bored, Deeks."

G turned for the stairs and jogged up them, barely registering Jethro's return and, "Callen?"

He'd have to see his old friend later, after his meeting.

Vance met him at the top of the stairs, offered his hand. "Agent Callen."

"Director. Thanks for seeing me on short notice."

Vance gave a wry smile. "Henrietta made it clear I didn't have much choice."

G winced. "Sorry about that."

"No need to apologize," Vance said as he gestured G to precede him into his office. "Henrietta doesn't throw her weight around often, so I assume this is important. Coffee?"

"No, thanks." G waited until Vance had taken his seat behind his desk before sitting. "And it is important, but not in a way that's immediately obvious."

"Oh?" Vance raised one eyebrow.

"You've been briefed on the Rio Syamsundin incident." It wasn't really a question, but G paused for Vance's acknowledgment.

"I have. And congratulations - I can't pronounce his name no matter how hard I try."

G quirked a grin. "Years of practice, you'd be fine. I'm concerned about an incident that happened at the end of that case, as we were about to escort them to the gate. Hetty stopped us, said that DiNozzo had a call from Gibbs, and Gibbs said she should give DiNozzo a message."

"I'm not seeing why that warranted a trip across the country."

"It was the nature of the message, Director. She slapped DiNozzo on the back of his head."

"Ah. One of his wake-up calls."

"Not you, too?" G let exasperation bleed into his tone. "It's an assault on a subordinate, Director, but it's not my place to complain about that."

G met Vance's gaze steadily, and he saw the moment the other man finished the sentence in his mind: It's your place to do something about violence in the workplace.

Typically, Vance went on the offensive when he was feeling defensive. "Then what is your place in all this, Agent Callen?"

"I'm registering a complaint because Gibbs felt comfortable asking, and Hetty felt comfortable doing, it in front of my team - a team which might have to work with DiNozzo again." G sat forward in his chair. "Nate hasn't been in our office for a while, but I'll bet he, or any other operational psychologist, would tell you that's not only a breach of courtesy and a breach of protocol, it's also a breach of trust that impacts morale and teamwork."

"And what is Henrietta's position on the matter?"

G heard the challenge in the director's tone and sat back, grinning easily. "I spoke to her about it yesterday. She's not going to do it again - but what about other people in other offices? Or worse, other agencies? Suspects, lawyers?"

"DiNozzo hasn't filed a complaint."

"DiNozzo lets Jethro hit him, that's on him if he doesn't put his foot down. But you're the director of this agency - letting Jethro get away with undermining morale and teamwork… that's on you."

"Why aren't you filing a complaint, if you feel so strongly about it?"

"Because Jethro's a friend, and I'd like to resolve this informally if I can, for all of our sakes."

Vance's eyebrows shot up. "You're resolving this?"

"I'm here, aren't I?" G met his gaze. "But whatever action you take or don't take, you need to know that I will report any future incidents to my full chain of command."

Vance held G's gaze until the phone on his desk rang. Even so, it was a moment before Vance looked away to answer it. "Yes? … Five minutes."

G was on his feet before Vance had the receiver back in its cradle. "Sorry to take up so much of your time, Director."

"You're not done yet, Agent Callen." Vance, too, rose, and G had only a moment to wonder what might be coming next before Vance continued, "There's a call from your office coming into MTAC."

G followed Vance into the Multiple Threat Assessment Center, taking the opportunity to study the room, as it was his first time inside.

Looks like a glorified movie theater.

He'd never voice it aloud, of course, but G let himself grin just a little at the thought. And grinned even more at the apprehensive looks some of the techs were giving him.

Then the large screen came to life, and G found himself looking into the Los Angeles office Ops Center. Hetty, Kensi, and Sam looked back.

"Leon," Hetty said.

"Henrietta. Agent Blye, Agent Hanna," Vance returned the greeting. "To what do we owe the pleasure of this call?"

"Not a pleasure, but a mission."

G was sure his eyebrows lifted as high as Vance's.

"What kind of mission?" Vance asked.

"The DEA has requested our assistance - specifically, Agent Callen's assistance - in infiltrating a meeting of mafia dons who will be coordinating the distribution of heroin and cocaine throughout the Eastern Seaboard."

"Why Callen?" Vance asked. "Why can't their people handle it?"

"Because I worked a mob case when I was with them," G answered before Hetty could. "As far as I know, that alias was never burned."

"Indeed it wasn't," Hetty said. "And, more to the point, the DEA has been backstopping it in the meantime."

"What?" G couldn't help the exclamation. "That's been - ten years or more."

Hetty's lips twitched. "As the DEA deputy director who contacted me said, you never know when you might need it again."

G groaned. "That wouldn't be Jaime Mendoza, would it?"

Hetty's smile was answer enough. Vance looked from her image on the screen to G.

"Who's Jaime Mendoza?"

"He was my partner on that op," G said. "Am I working with him again?"

"No, this is purely an NCIS operation," Hetty said. "Deputy Director Mendoza suspects there might be a leak in his organization, so he's keeping his people out of it."

"When's the meeting going down?" G asked.

"Eight o'clock tonight, at a restaurant called Tortina Floriana." Hetty's expression turned grimmer. "Unfortunately, that means that Agents Blye and Hanna cannot get there in time to back you up, Mr. Callen."

"Deeks is here." G put confidence into his tone.

"And I'll assign personnel from this office, too," Vance put in. "Just tell me what you need."

"Good luck, Agent Callen." Hetty said.

"Hetty -" G stopped her before she could disconnect the call, and she raised an inquiring eyebrow at him. "Short notice, no access to everything we've got at OSP … I'm gonna need a bigger budget."

Behind Hetty, Sam unsuccessfully tried to turn a laugh into a cough, and Kensi grinned. Hetty, of course, appeared unmoved.

"I have already informed Deputy Director Mendoza that, as we are undertaking this operation at his request, his agency will be paying for it. That is not, of course, a license to be profligate with taxpayer monies."

"Of course," G agreed.

"Mr. Beale will send everything we have to your and Mr. Deeks' phones." Hetty nodded at him. "Leon."

"Henrietta."

The call disconnected, and for a long moment, G simply stood there, reviewing his memories of that operation with the DEA, recalling the persona of Sebastiano Lapaglia.

It wasn't a legend he was looking forward to living again.

"Callen?" Vance prompted. "What do you need?"

"First things first - a suit." G strode for the door and loped down the stairs - only to be met by a whirlwind in a white lab coat.

He huffed a breath and staggered back a step as Hurricane Abby Sciuto threw herself into his arms. "G! G Callen!"

"Abby. Abby Sciuto," he said, hugging her back because how could he not? And Jethro's annoyed expression just made him hug Abby tighter. "Good to see you, but I can't talk right now."

"Just for a minute! I -"

"Miss Sciuto." Vance's voice sounded from behind G.

Abby blinked and stepped away from G. "Leon?"

That pause was all G needed. "Abby - we'll talk later. I'll buy you a drink, even, but -" he sought Deeks' gaze, met it. "This just became a working vacation."

Deeks straightened. "What's going on?"

"I'll tell you on the way."

"On the way where?" Deeks asked, but G was already turning to DiNozzo, who had also straightened.

"I need a suit," G said. "Tailored - Armani, the equivalent or better. And I need it in six hours."

"Why would you think Tony knows where to get a suit like that?" McGee asked, and G saw weariness flash across DiNozzo's expression.

"Because," G replied, not taking his eyes from DiNozzo. "Anyone wearing tailored Tom Ford knows where to get what I need."

"Yes," DiNozzo said slowly. "I know where to get one."

G turned back to Vance. "While I'm getting fitted, have someone coordinate with Nell and Eric in L.A. for the gear I'll need. And someone to monitor comms while I'm in would be good, too."

Vance nodded. "Go, DiNozzo - get Callen what he needs."

"Leon -" Gibbs began.

"We have less than twelve hours to plan this op, Gibbs," Vance said. "Let's not have any undue delays. McGee."

"Sir?" G almost winced at the eager puppy look on the other agent's face.

"Get on the horn with L.A. I want you to have all the gear Callen needs by the time he gets back."

"Yessir."

G grinned at DiNozzo. "Your car or mine?"

"Mine's an agency car - my Mustang won't hold three comfortably."

"Agency cars do go places other cars can't go," Deeks observed. "But we've got a rental."

DiNozzo perked up. "Rentals can go even more places."

"Gentlemen." Vance's tone cut across their discussion. "However loosely that term might be applied. I will say this only once. No agency or rental car will go anywhere that any other cars don't go."

"This way." DiNozzo grabbed a go-bag and started for the garage. G followed and Deeks fell into step behind him.

"I thought Hetty was a downer," Deeks muttered. "She learn from him? Or he learn from her?"

"I heard that, Detective."