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Miniature Golf

Chapter 7

G woke to the sound a vacuum cleaner outside his bedroom door. He glanced at the clock, must've been Hetty's idea for a clock with huge numbers. It was about the size of a basketball and kept time in both standard and military times. Absolutely Hetty's idea. He definitely overslept again. Ten in the morning. He stretched and yawned and reached down to lift his cane off the floor. No cane. He looked around for the walker. Missing. Okay. G sat up in bed and scanned the room for his ambulatory aids. His walker stood at the foot of the bed with a set of sweats neatly folded on them. The cane was hung on a rack on the back of the door. He wondered if Sam had organized them.

He climbed out of bed and dressed in the sweats. Getting his pants on was still a huge feat because he had to sit on the bed, put one foot in and then wait to catch his breath. After a break, he stuck his other foot into his sweats. Then he needed to use the walker to help steady himself to pull up his sweats. This is ridiculous. G settled on the bed again and shoved his feet into his slippers and then stood, pushing the walker toward the bathroom. He checked himself in the mirror to make certain he was dressed appropriately for whomever was in the house.

The other day G ventured outside his room in his untied bathrobe. When he turned the corner out of the hallway, Hetty cleared her throat. While feeling the heat rising to his face, G quickly tied his bathrobe. At least he had worn his boxers. Everything looked good so far. He brushed his teeth and ran his hands through his longer-than-usual, dark blonde hair. Time for a hair cut. G hated when his hair hung down to his collar, tickling his neck. After the kidnapping though, he refused Sam's many offers to give him a buzz cut. The thought of a close cut sent shivers up his spine. He'd run out of excuses and one of these days Sam would call his bluff.

G hesitated in the hallway, wondering again who was vacuuming his home. He guided the walker into the next room and found Kensi and Deeks cleaning and dusting his living room.

Kensi looked up from the side table she was dusting. "Callen, hope we didn't wake you."

"Maybe," he said, not wanting to discourage them.

"We'll hurry up and finish," Deeks said, "besides I just finished vacuuming out here."

"No, it's okay." G settled down in the recliner.

"Sam said he was gonna be back with your groceries and something for breakfast," Deeks said. "Do you mind if I vacuum your bedroom?"

"No problem," G said, "and thanks."

"Feel better soon," Kensi said, patting G on a shoulder and following Deeks into the hallway.

G stifled the urge to bolt and hide. Something about that pat on the shoulder disturbed him. He hoped it didn't bring on flashbacks about his kidnapping.

In the distance a key jiggled in the front door. G readied himself for a possible intruder, but at the last minute remembered it was Sam. I'm too darned jumpy even for myself.

"Hungry?" Sam asked, coming into the living room with groceries and a styrofoam take out box.

"Get me something good?" G accepted the hot container and placed it on the ottoman.

"Your favorite; eggs, bacon and toast with jam." Sam headed toward the kitchen.

G opened it and noticed there were no utensils. Before he could ask for a fork, Sam came over to him with one and a glass of milk. "Thanks." He brought the carton onto his lap and scarfed up his food.

"Hey, slow down," Sam said, sitting down on the sofa.

"Hungry," G said between bites. "Didn't realize how hungry I was until I smelled the bacon and eggs." He drank some milk and glanced at his partner, knowing Sam wasn't sitting on the sofa to keep him company.

"Hetty wants you to utilize the availability of your team," Sam said, picking up a glass of milk and taking a few sips.

"You're not eating?"

"Already ate and I'm in the mood for milk."

"The what of my team? In English please."

"Your team is here everyday keeping your home clean and tidy on her dime," he said, setting his glass on the side table. "It's about time you started talking about your ordeal."

"The problem is I don't remember much," G said.

"You've had nightmares and flashbacks, right?"

"Well, yes, but there's not much to tell."

"Perhaps Hetty needs to call in the calvary for you."

"You mean Nate?"

"Yeah."

G sighed. "What's he gonna do? Draw it out of me with a salve?"

"Very funny," Sam said, "of course not, but I thought you might like to talk to someone besides us."

"No." G ate the rest of his breakfast and drank his milk. He placed the empty container on the ottoman and patted his stomach.

"Speaking of that," Sam eyed his partner's out-of-shape body, "you're about due for some exercise."

"What? Seriously? Come on, man, I can barely get dressed and you want me to run a marathon."

"It's not what I want," he said. "It's what the little lady wants."

"She better not hear you say that about her," G said, winking at his partner.

"She says some miniature golf for the team and you might help you get back to your old self."

"Miniature golf? Really? She said that?"

"Well, I don't think you're ready for big boy golf yet."

G smirked. "Big boy golf, huh, very funny."

"Think about golfing on a par nine course with a Rollator Walker."

"Okay, I get the picture, it just wouldn't work." He imagined trying to heft his golf bag over a shoulder while pushing the walker. "How about one of those Rollators with a seat?"

"Remember, exercise is the point of it."

G made a face at his partner.

"At least it would get you out of the house."

"You gonna protect me if my kidnappers decide to come after me again?"

Sam shook his head. "You don't think I can?"

"Didn't say that at all. Didn't even hint at it." G eyed his partner.

"I know that look."

"What? I'm innocent."


#


G bent over and placed his aqua-blue golf ball on the Studio City Miniature Golf Park's hole one putting green. He started to lose his balance and caught himself with the putter. He glanced over his shoulder and glared at his partner.

"Just go slower then."

"How much slower can I go? There's a line after us waiting to start." G watched Sam look over his shoulder. "Made you look."

"One more time and I'll—"

"You'll come over here and golf for me?" He winked at his partner.

"You're in rare form this afternoon."

"Not exactly looking forward to playing all eighteen holes."

"Ah, is that the story."

G readied his putter and took a couple of practice swings.

"You missed. Twice."

"Very funny. Those were practice runs."

"So now you practice running too?"

G shook his head and lined up his putter. He swung at the ball and it bounced over the boundaries of hole one and landed on hole two's putting green.

"That's pathetic."

"Out of practice."

"Add two."

"Didn't Kensi and Deeks say they'd be here?"

"Yep, we did," Kensi said.

G startled and turned to face her.

"You're kind of jumpy," Sam said.

"That's an understatement," G said, grabbing his Rollator walker and pushing it toward his wayward ball.

"Too vigorous for miniature golf," Deeks said.

G retrieved the ball with one hand while keeping his other hand on the walker. He sauntered back to the first hole to watch his teammates hit their balls. "I think I need practice pretending I'm playing little boy golf." G eyed his partner, waiting for a snide remark from him. It appeared that Sam had ignored him because he placed his ball on the putting green and swung his putter without even looking in G's direction. "Is that the way you're gonna play this?" He watched Sam's ball go exactly where it was supposed to go. "Did you all practice without me?"

"Nope," Sam said, taking his final shot into the hole.

"Someone cheated and didn't tell me." G set his ball on the green again.

"You don't get a second chance."

"I'm playing by my own rules." He focused on the hole just around a small mound and swung his putter.

"Fore!" Sam yelled to Deeks and Kensi.

"Seriously?" G asked. He watched his ball go around the mound, stopping only inches from the hole.

Kensi broke out in an infectious giggle and stepped back, giving her team leader a wide berth for access to the hole.

"It wasn't that bad."

Deeks stifled a grin.

Sam stood opposite his partner, eyeing his stance.

"What?" G looked at his position and then at Sam. "I'm not counting the first one."

"I'm counting it."

"Come on, man, at least give me a handicap."

"You've already got one." Sam chuckled.

G smirked. "Very funny, okay, it's true, I've got a huge one."

"Yeah, between the ears."

"Sam, I'm trying to concentrate and you're making me laugh too much."

"Nonsense, there's no such thing as laughing too much after you've been cooped up for days."

G readied his putter and gave the ball a light tap.

"Fore!" Sam yelled again.

"It made it."

"By inches."

"Next time don't yell so loud and stop saying that word," G said.

"Well, last time you hit your ball into the second hole."

"Rub it in." He leaned over to pick up his ball and started to lose his balance.

Sam rushed over to his partner's side and steadied him.

"I told you I needed a handicap."

Sam shook his head and helped G over to the Rollator walker. "Maybe you should sit down on that thing before you fall down."

"So now you're gonna tell me I was right." G reached the next hole and sat on the pull down seat.

"You're always right, partner."

"There's that word." G smirked.

"What? I didn't say, 'fore.'"


#


An hour later, G picked up his ball from the ninth hole and sighed. "I can't finish the course." He found a bench between the ninth and tenth holes and eased himself down onto it, using his walker for balance.

Sam sat next to him. "You look a little pale around the edges."

"See, it is time to go back home."

"How about something to eat and getting out of the sun for a bit?"

G raised his baseball cap and eyed his partner. "I wish that would solve my problem." He shuddered. A glint coming off of something metallic over his partner's shoulders caught his eye. G stared in that direction, trying to find where the glint had disappeared.

"See something?" Sam glanced over his shoulder in the same direction G was looking.

"It's nothing."

"Seriously, nothing, not with that look and your intense focus."

G brought his gaze back to his partner. "Okay, I thought I saw the flash of a gun at about waist high for someone standing."

"That fairly specific." Sam stood and performed a 360 degree scan of their immediate and short distance areas. "I don't see anything," he said, sitting back down next to his partner.

"I told you it was…" The same shimmery light now came from a closer position to the right of Sam. "Need to go. Now."

"Seriously—"

A bullet whizzed between them and missed them both.

People all around them screamed and scattered, darting this way and that way, and in a matter of seconds, no one was left in the miniature golf park. In the next moment, his partner tackled him, sending them both to a grassy landing near the tenth hole. G sighed when his body came to rest on the grass. I am thankful it's not the cement walkway. "You believe me now?" he asked from under his partner's bulky body.

"Keep your voice down and follow my directions," Sam said.

"No problem there."

Sam climbed off of his partner, withdrew his weapon, and helped G to his feet. "Kensi, Deeks, surround him. Let's get out of here."

They edged toward the Challenger, acting as a cohesive unit.

"Deeks." Sam tossed him the keys to the Challenger. "Get it started."

"You let him drive the car while I was gone, but you—"

"Keep your voice lowered," Sam said.

"Not fair." G pouted.

"I promised to let you drive after you're feeling 100%."

"Gee, thanks Mom."

Sam shot his partner a look.

As they neared the Challenger, G cried out and slapped the back of his right thigh. It felt as if something stung him there. Instead his hand rested on something slick and slimy. He brought it to his face and stared at the blood trickling down his fingers and palm. "Houston, I've got a problem."

Sam faced him. "Where did that come from?" He opened the Challenger's passenger side door. "When did this happen?"

"Stop asking me questions I can't possibly answer." G pointed to the back of his thigh and attempted to climb into the passenger seat. "I think I need help."

"That's what I'm here for." Sam assisted G with seat, reclining it fully.

"That might be too far. Where's a towel?"

"Don't worry about a little blood."

"I don't think that it's a little blood."

Sam threw a towel onto the seat. "Satisfied?"

"Would you two girls make up your minds and get into the car," Kensi said, snickering at their antics.

"Girls?" G eyed her. "I hope the two of you are keeping your eyes on the surroundings." G gingerly sat down on the seat. "Maybe a little up on the head."

She giggled some more.

Sam raised the back of the seat. "We good?"

G held up his hand to stop his partner's progress. "Perfect."

Sam switched places with Deeks and secured his seatbelt. He reached across G's lap to buckle him into the seat.

G brushed his hands aside. "I'm not helpless." He pulled the seatbelt around him and fastened it.

Sam shook his head.

Kensi giggled again. "You two girls ready to go yet?"

"Why don't you and Deeks scan the area one last time?" G asked, ignoring her comments.

"A full sweep five minutes ago revealed nothing," she said.

"Deeks?" G leaned over to Sam's side of the car.

"Same here, nothing."

"Okay, follow us to the house and keep your eyes peeled."

"Maybe they should call Hetty," Sam said to his partner.

"I'm not going there," he said. "Next thing you know she'll be toting that first aid kit of her's to my house."

"Hetty?" Deeks asked with an innocent sounding tone.

"You know, the little exams she wants to perform on us," G said.

"You're afraid of that petite lady with her little red box of goodies." Sam smirked. "At least call her and give her a heads up."

"On second thought…" G thought about it longer. "Let's wait until I get home. It'll give her less time to remember to bring stuff with her."

"Chicken," Sam said.

"You're darned right."


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