Chapter 7

I do not own anything connected to NCIS-LA.

Thank you so much to everyone who's taken the time to read this story! It is greatly appreciated!

Callen shook his head as Kensi and Deeks paid for their food and left, still holding hands and playing the devoted couple. The checker smiled at them like they were the cutest thing she'd seen in forever. Callen had a feeling that they weren't really playing, but simply letting their real feelings come out. It wasn't that they couldn't act professionally, but for this mission they didn't have to hide how the felt.

He worried that if something were to happen to one of them he would end up losing both of them from his team. Sam thought they would lose both of them anyway. He thought that when they decided they were ready to start a family they would both leave the team. In his opinion neither one of them would being willing to leave the other in dangerous situations without being able to have their backs; but that a baby would make them realize they needed to stay alive for their child. Callen was keeping an eye on them, looking for any signs of impending babies or career changes. So far all he'd seen was professionalism in public, and an overwhelming attraction and displays of affection if they didn't realize they could be seen.

Callen made another trip around the store, making sure that everything was still going well. It was a quite a responsibility, managing a store, and sometimes he felt like he was tiring to nail jello to a tree. There was always something, he couldn't afford to concentrate on any one crisis for too long, but had to constantly keep his eyes open for the next crisis.

According to his longest serving employees, one of the crises that he might expect was leaks in the ceiling or under the doors when the rains started. As he paused in the middle of the cat food aisle he could hear the rain pounding on the roof, so he decided to make a trip around the store looking for leaks.

As part of his 'rain preparations' he had already made sure that the anti-slip mats had been placed in front of all the doors, and made sure that the air blowers had been placed so as to keep the floors as dry as possible.

He had also detailed a couple of the young guys who usually dragged the carts back in from the parking lot to dry off the carts so that the people who came in to shop for groceries would not have to worry about their groceries, belongings, or children getting wet while they were shopping. Once they went back out into the parking lot, he thought ruefully, they were on their own, and he didn't think they would manage to get anything through the parking lot and into their cars without something getting wet!

As if on cue, thunder rumbled overhead, and he could hear the tempo of the rain hitting the roof increase. The blustering pace of the winds also quickened and he could see sheets of rain sweeping across the parking lot. Several customers packed up behind the door clearly unwilling to face the torrential rain.

Then he saw the Reverend walk through the door, and all the questions he had been suppressing came flooding back into his mind. He had been shocked by the explosion at the church. Not, strangely enough, shocked that there was an explosion, he had almost been expecting that, but shocked that it was in a church. After he had seen the map Deeks had discovered at the library, he had been worried that one of the schools might the target. He had listened to enough rhetoric about public schools and slacker parents turning out a generation of Americans who had no morals, consciences or common sense.

Callen could tell that the Reverend wanted to talk to him, so he moved across the store to approach the older man.

"How you doing, Reverend?" he began. "Staying dry enough, are you?"

"Yes, I am," the Reverend said in a slightly annoyed voice. "The Lord has been kind enough to send us rain, but then the enemy had to make his voice heard! I'm sure you heard about that!"

Callen lowered his voice, "You mean the explosion at the church? That was truly awful, wasn't it? Some of my customers go to that church, they seem like nice people. Who do you think did it? I know you said the enemy, but surely he had someone working for him, who actually carried out the actions, actually set the bomb."

The Reverend had no hesitation in his answer. "It's those damn Arabs!"

Callen pretended to be confused, "They came all the way here from the Middle East? That seems like a long way. And wouldn't someone notice them around town?"

"They're here anyway," the Reverend lost no time in letting him know. "They've been sending their people over here for years, infiltrating our society, and trying to get us to trust them. They didn't come just for this, there's a whole nest of them up at the college. They've settled in there and gotten the people who should be teaching our kids to be good God-fearing American citizens to be politically correct. They worry more about offending the members of a rabid cult, and not enough about making sure America stays the Christian nation it's supposed to be!"

"And they just accept them up at the college?" Callen questioned. "They're such smart people up there; it's hard to believe that they would be taken in. A lot of them come in to do their shopping here, you know, and they all seem to be very nice people."

"They may be nice people, but they put so much emphasis on being open minded that their brains have fallen out! Just like that church that was bombed, they claim to be Christian but we all know that that church is a hotbed of liberal propaganda! You're just too trusting, have you ever been told that before?"

Callen smirked and lied to the Reverend, "Yes, I actually hear that a lot." He was glad his partner was nowhere in the vicinity. Sam would probably be laughing on the floor by now. Even Kensi and Deeks might snicker a bit, but not where he could see them.

"Would you believe that that church actually has fags as members? And they have a day care that watches innocent children so their mothers can go out and work, instead of staying home like God intended. And they support the public schools, and even have women pastors in some of their churches! All of that and they still have the nerve to call themselves Christian!"

"I didn't know that," Callen made sure that he sounded sufficiently impressed.

"Then why did the enemy bomb them?" he asked, in seeming confusion. "Why wouldn't they go for a real target and try to blow up the real Christians?"

"Well, son," the Reverend replied. "For one thing, God protects us! God is on our side, never forget that! And for another reason, the enemy just isn't too bright. They probably though they were attacking true Christians, but they were just not smart enough to realize that those fools down at the Methodist church might call themselves Christians but aren't really."

"Well, that's good to know," Callen answered. "I hope we're upping the security on our church, just in case they get luckier the next time. "

"Oh, I'm having a meeting with some of my trusted staff to discuss security tonight," the Reverend said. "Among other things, we'll be discussing the security of the church!"

Meanwhile at the library: Deeks was standing in the men's room admiring the new pipes. He wasn't alone, it seemed like half the staff and a few random police officers who had been wandering by were in there, celebrating the fact that they had toilet access in the men's room again. The library director was in the men's room with them, trying hard to put a positive spin on the matter.

"Doesn't it look wonderful?" she exclaimed.

"Yes," Catherine replied in a dead serious voice, "The pipes are very cylindrical, and functional, and that's what we need them to be."

Marty had to hide a smile. He admitted to a certain amount of joy that they were functional as well. He had not enjoyed having to send male patrons to the family bathroom in the children's section. There had been a wide range of responses to the change in location, and he had gotten tired of hearing the jokes long before the patrons had tired of making them.

Marty spent the rest of the next hour or so dealing with the some of the kids from the local home school group. This group met once a week at the library for some educational activity that enriched or complemented their curriculum. Marty didn't usually have much to do with the group, but he had been drawn into a discussion between two of the older children about arches and how they worked. It had turned into a wide-ranging discussion with several of the middle-school aged kids, five or six younger siblings, a couple of mothers from the church group, the children's librarian, and a random patron who had an interest in ancient engineering.

The library had a selection of wooden blocks, and the group spent at least half an hour trying to build various types of arches. The debate about the relative uses of pointed versus round arches grew quite heated. At one point Marty thought he might need to intervene, but the students managed to come to an understanding. Together the group managed to build a miniature city's worth of arches in a corner of the children's' room. None of them could face taking it apart, so the kids begged Marty and the children's librarian, Alicia, to leave it up for a while. Alicia agreed, so the kids left happy. The brothers who had started the whole discussion, Ethan and Isaac, left clutching a couple of books about arches. They were already planning a home-based engineering project.

The rest of the day passed quietly at the library, and equally quietly at the university. Sam taught his classes, and consulted with his colleagues and students. Since it was such a quiet day, he had a lot of time to think about yesterday's events. He just couldn't make himself think that any of his students had anything to do with the explosion. From his experience they were a quiet group who wanted to get on with their education and their lives.

Today, however, Sam found himself dealing with something completely different. Not only was the student currently crying in front of his desk not one of his usual students, she wasn't even in any of his classes. Somehow this young lady had discovered that he had been a Junior Math Olympian in his younger days, and had decided to come to him for help. She was desperate to pass her calculus class, it was essential for her future plans, and was sure that he could help her.

Sam could emphasize, but as he tried to explain to the student, he was a very busy man. He didn't say it, but he was also hoping that he wouldn't be in his current position too much longer. He was more than ready to get back to his semi-normal life. He missed his wife and his daughter almost as much as Deeks missed surfing and the beach.

While trying to calm the student down, Sam consulted the homework assignments she had brought along.

"Here," he said reassuringly, "You're getting a solid B on these assignments; I think you're doing fine!"

"A B isn't good enough!" she answered, "I'm trying to get into med school! I can't have any Bs on my transcript!"

Eventually Sam got the student calmed down, sending her on her way mollified and still sniffling slightly. She was carrying an incredible load of classes and an exhaustingly long list of extracurricular activities, trying to built herself a great application for med school. Sam was able to point out to her that a perfect GPA might be more obtainable with a few fewer activities, and encouraged her concentrate on the ones that applied directly to her future medical career. However impressive her work with Habitat for Humanity was, the time volunteering at the free clinic might carry a bit more weight with the Admissions committee.

After she was gone, Sam was able to wander over to the Criminal Justice building. He wanted to consult with Kensi, and thanks to their interactions yesterday, they had a perfect excuse to talk. No one would think anything about Dr. Hanna and Dr. Blye having a discussion.

They managed a quick consultion in her office, quickly discussing their thoughts about the crime scene they had worked the previous day. They agreed that it seemed like a first effort from a group just getting started, and that if nothing was done the group might strike again.