As if on cue, Densi began to make vague noises of discontent. She might have known this imitation of a perfect baby was too good to last.
"Uh oh. Someone's just about to realise he's hungry." Kensi started to rummage in her bag for one of the bottles of formula, knowing that if she didn't act quickly the yells would soon start and could very well loosen the Mission's interior plasterwork. "Nell – do me a favour and take Densi out of his car seat and give him to Marty, will you?" The bottle was proving elusive and was eventually located under the spare clothes, the blanket, the baby wipes and the pile of diapers. She had to develop some kind of system…
"Sure." Nell wrestled with the straps, which proved to be not only child-proof but virtually adult-proof as well and eventually managed to release the baby. Callen noticed that it was only with extreme reluctance that she handed Densi over to his father, who casually laid his son on his outstretched legs so that Densi was leanining backwards and continued chatting to Sam.
"He's going to fall," Hetty cautioned. She was very tempted to tell him to take his feet off the desk, only the baby actually looked comfortable in the unusual position, so she relented. All the same, she made a mental note to have a few words at a later date about the correct place for feet - i.e. on the floor.
"No, he's not. We do this all the time at home and he likes it. He can see me and it's quite safe. I'm watching him and he's fine. It's not like he can roll over or anything like that." Truth be told, Marty liked being able to see Densi too. Plus, it was the ideal position to watch TV from at home. Marty was still rueing the fact Kensi had made him give his leather recliner to Callen all those years ago. The built-in beer holder would have been ideal for storing baby bottles in, after all. In odd moments he wondered if Callen and Nell ever made use of the massage function and suspected that they probably did. But then they didn't have a baby and they still had a sex life too. Life wasn't fair, it really wasn't fair. And then he looked at Densi, who had just stuffed his hand into his mouth and realised he wouldn't change anything. Except the sex part, of course. That went without saying.
"Kensi's given up the struggle, has she?" Sam asked.
"Yup, he's on formula. It just wasn't working and they were both getting upset."
"Not as upset as Callen was. He hasn't been able to look her in the eye ever since." Out of the corner of his eye, Sam could see his partner pretending that he hadn't heard that last remark. It served him right for looking at Kensi's breasts anyway. Not that Sam didn't do the same, but he hadn't been caught yet.
"Maybe if he had been looking Kensi in the eye this wouldn't have happened?" Marty suggested slyly, taking hold of both of Densi's feet in one hand and watching as the small legs started to kick. "Amazing how flexible they are, isn't it? And he's getting quite strong too." There was more than a hint of pride in his voice
"You're not really concentrating, are you Deeks?" Sam couldn't help smiling as he clocked the besotted expression on the younger man's face. "Your heart belongs to Densi."
"Did you say something?" Marty looked up at Sam and grinned. "I am listening, really. But it's just so nice to have him quiet for once."
Kensi came back through at a semi-trot, clutching the bottle. "He's still quiet?" she asked, in tones that suggested the age of miracle had not yet past.
"Whatever they taught in that class certainly did the trick." Marty eased Densi up into his arms and took the bottle. Was it his imagination, or did the baby's eyes light up in recognition? "You are going to go to the next one, aren't you?" He crossed his fingers and hoped for a positive answer.
Kensi still couldn't quite believe it either "I signed up on the spot. The classes are twice a week." And with any luck, she'd make some new friends. Being a new mother was rather isolating after all and it would be good to be able to talk to some people who really understood.
"Noisy little beggar, isn't he?" Callen commented as the sound of enthusiastic slurping filled the air.
"We figured we'd wait until he could sit up before we started on the whole 'table manners' thing," Kensi replied sarcstically. "But now you mention it… How about you give us a couple of more weeks to crack it?"
Hetty managed to tear her eyes away from the baby, whose eyes were crossing over with delight as he stared intently at the bottle and suckled with gusto. "I have a favour to ask, Ms Blye. A rather big favour."
"You're not using my baby on an operation. No way." Some things were not even up for discussion.
"It's not the baby she wants – it's the big baby." Callen inclined his head towards Deeks, who was now burbling nonsense and making faces at Densi, who bore this with remarkable equanimity and continued to feed noisily.
"Him, you can have. With pleasure. Exactly what do you want him for?"
"We require Mr Deeks' services to go undercover at a sports injury clinic."
Callen brightened up at this. "We could arrange for Deeks to have an injury, couldn't we Sam? How bad do you want it to be?"
"Still here. And still able to hear." Marty reminded him.
"And I'd rather not have him maimed, thank you very much. I've got enough to do looking after Densi."
"There's no question of Mr Deeks being injured or attending as a patient. He's going to work there, giving sports massages."
Kensi digested this news. "Massages? What sort of massages? And to who?" She really didn't like the sound of this.
"Hot blondes, I hope."
There were times when Hetty really wanted to follow the example of Gibbs and resort to a head slapping; it would make life so much more simple. "We're following up reports that the clinic is used by various members of an organisation we've been watching for some time. The evidence is starting to point to the fact that they have links to several known terrorist groups and we have reason to believe they may be planning to commence activities on the west coast."
"And Deeks is going to pummel the information out of them?" Sam raised an eyebrow quizzically. "That's different."
"Nothing quite so crude, Mr Hannah. Although a deep massage can actually be rather painful. It's all about anatomy, you know."
"That's what I've always said," Marty remarked sotto voce. "You can't beat having a thorough knowledge of anatomy. You never know when it'll come in handy. " He looked up at Kensi and winked happily. "I might need some help getting back up to speed though. Maybe I could practice on you?"
"Maybe Hetty could help you get back up to speed?" she suggested sweetly.
"I'm always willing to assist in training activities with any member of my team. Just as Mr Callen how we've worked together on the climbing wall." Although the way Hetty remembered it, Callen had yet to beat her. "But for the purposes of this exercise, I thought a little one-to-one tuition might be called for. Which is why I've arranged for Freya to join us shortly."
"Freya?" You could almost see the wheels working inside Marty's head. The vacant expression on his face, combined with the glazed eyes and slack jaw was a dead giveaway to the thoughts that were tantalising him.
"What was that you said about being a happily married man?" Callen asked rhetorically.
"Freya," Marty repeated slowly, letting each syllable roll off his tongue. "That sounds Nordic." It also sounded too good to be true.
"She's Norwegian," Hetty confirmed.
"Norwegian." That was clearly a good thing as far as he was concerned.
"Please tell me she's sixty, has a moustache and arms like a shot-putter?" So it sounded like he was begging? Sam really didn't care.
"Why don't you judge for yourself? She's joining us shortly. So why don't you get ready, Mr Deeks? Preparation is everything, after all."
Sam had only one question: "Can we watch?" A comely Norwegian masseuse putting Deeks through his paces sounded too good to be true.
"Why not? You'll be joining Mr Deeks at the clinic, by the way."
"Okay, I can do that. You want me to be a personal trainer or something?" Sam flexed his biceps meditatively.
"Unfortunately, there were no openings for that. But I have managed to secure you a position as the attendant for the men's sauna and steam rooms."
"You want me to stand around all day and hand out towels?" Sometimes Sam wondered why he even bothered coming in to work.