Chapter Nine: You're Always First On The Line

Evil plot bunny insisted that Amblue has been patient for long enough... hence "maimed Deeks"... I didn't even bother putting up a token protest.


Sam put a long-nailed and beautifully manicured hand on Kensi's arm. Nell had urged him to go with the metallic-hued stick-on nails, but he'd been intent on the ones with tiger stripes, and he was strangely reassured to see that he'd made the right decision. They looked wicked. Maybe he was more in touch with his feminine side than he'd previously thought? "Remember to leave enough pieces for us to identify," he requested mildly. "Going through dental records can be a real pain."

Then he dropped to his knees beside Deeks, while Callen hoiked up his skirt ungracefully and fished a pair of handcuffs from somewhere in the region of his underwear (and Sam really didn't want to know any more than that) and dealt with the trembling Thai sailor, who was cealry wondering if he would forevermore sing falsetto.

"You okay, man?" Sam asked, trying to sound too worried.

Deeks cranked open an eye and Sam noticed his eyeliner had started to run. Or maybe it was his mascara? It was kind of difficult to tell. "Do I look alright?" he said tetchily.

"No – you look like a man in drag, with a hole in his gut. But you knew that, didn't you? Let me have a look." Sam's long, tiger-striped nails gently pried away Deeks' shorter ones, which had been painted pale green to compliment his dress. "Hetty's going to kill you, you know that, don't you?" Jesus, the wound looks bad. And there was too much blood. Far too much blood. Sam pressed down firmly and Deeks could not repress a wince of pain.

"If I live that long." Deeks had closed his eyes again and his breath was coming in short pants.

Sam recognised the signs that he was going into shock and slapped his cheek gently. "Don't even think that, you hear? And do not pass out on me, okay?"

"You're a bully. Okay, I'll bite. Why would Hetty kill me?" Deeks asked, with a certain tone of resignation in his voice.

"Because there's no way she can return this dress, not after you've gone and bled all over it." Where's the back-up? What the hell is taking the ambulance so long? Of course, knowing Renko there's every chance the guy had called the wrong number and ended up asking for takeout pizza instead of support.

"I'll try not to be so inconsiderate next time. Sam – do me a favour, will you?"

"That depends what it is. If it involves anything to do with that manky dog you keep springing from the LAPD pound, then the answer's no. If it's kissing Kensi good bye, then I'll consider it. But only if we get to use tongues." Even under the foundation and blusher, Sam could see that Deeks was looking far too pale.

"Funny man. My sides are splitting. Wait a minute – they actually are."

"Technically, only one side. So stop exaggerating. You want me to feel sorry for you or something? Because it's not working." No, I'm just going out of my skull with worry instead.

"Anyway, Monty's okay. He can't help the way he looks. Kind of like Callen tonight. You've got to look a bit deeper."

"So what do you want me to do?" Christ, my hands are covered in blood. No matter how hard Sam pressed on the wound, the blood just kept coming. You couldn't see that his nails were painted in golden strips, they just looked scarlet.

"Make sure they know this was for an op, will you? The hospital, I mean. Make sure they know I don't go around dressed like this by choice." There was a certain pleading note in Deeks' voice and when he opened his eyes to stare at Sam they looked large and frightened.

"Sure. If you promise to do the same for me," Sam said, using a convoluted form of logic. Because if you promise me, that means you have to stay alive instead of dying on this stinking dance-floor, wearing that stupid dress. Because you don't deserve this, Deeks. And neither do I.

"It's a deal." Deeks closed his eyes in relief. "You see, I've been dating this emergency doctor for a couple of months now, and I really don't want her to get the wrong idea about me."

"What does she think you do?"

"Investment banker." His lips moved into the ghost of a smile. "I can be a really convincing liar."

"No way."

"Way. I never had you pinned for a Wayne's World fan."

"I've got hidden shallows. Stick around and you'll find out just how superficial I am." Don't die on me, Deeks.

"I might just do that. And teach you to pull off a really convincing cover." It was getting harder and harder to concentrate, Deeks found. And he knew exactly why Sam was pressing down on the wound – to stop him from bleeding out – but it was bloody sore. Bad pun, Marty. Very bad pun.

"I'll give you that one. Either she's really stupid, or you're damned good." How the hell could anyone believe Deeks was anything except some scruffy beach bum?

"I told you - she's a doctor. So she's really smart. Got her own stethoscope and everything. Not to mention a sexy white coat. Smart and hot." He managed to look smug and at death's door in the same instant, which was no mean feat, even for Deeks, Sam thought.

"Back-up's outside." Kensi was slightly out of breath. "Want me to take over for a bit, Sam?" She could see how the muscles in his arms were trembling. She didn't want to look at the wound, because one look at Sam's face had told her everything she needed to know.

"I'm good. How much of Renko did you leave for them to pick up?"

"I just spoke to him, very nicely."

"You threatened him, didn't you? Way to go, Kensi." Deeks' eyes fluttered open briefly, but his voice sounded strained and faint.

"Hey, Marty." Kensi sank down to the floor and took hold of his hand. "What did you want to go and do this for?"

"I didn't do it on purpose," he protested weakly.

"Sure you did. You just love being the centre of attention." Well, it's certainly worked this time.

"Can I help it if I'm fatally attractive? Not only to women, but actually as a woman?"

"You're not that great. And don't bother pouting, because it's true." Take away the big blue eyes, the great hair, the body to die for and lips that just beg to be kissed, and what have you got left? A guy with a warped sense of humour, who held my hands in that laser trap when he could have walked away? The man who turned up at my door that night with take-out food and beer?

"Tell that to the hot ER doctor he's dating." Sam wondered how much longer Kensi was going to manage to hide her feelings for. He and Callen had been placing bets for months now, and the pot was currently standing at over $1000. If nothing else, it would buy a great wreath for Deeks' funeral.

"Male or female?" Kensi asked curiously, just as the paramedics rushed in.