The Collector

Chapter 11

...

He slowly squeezed the trigger for the final time, infinitely pleased when the bullet hit dead center in the black target's heart. He wanted to re-qualify on his first try and couldn't stifle a crooked grin when he turned to face the sergeant overseeing him. The man smirked at his cockiness, shaking his head as he motioned for Deeks to stand aside as the target zipped down the line toward them. He quickly removed his earmuffs and protective glasses and looked over the officer's shoulder at the perfect grouping, center mass.

"Bullseye," Deeks said proudly.

"Lieutenant Bates said you were full of yourself," the sergeant said as he noted the score on his report.

"Just looking forward to getting back on the job," Deeks answered seriously, his words coming out softly as he reflected on all the changes in his life.

"He wants to see you, so get on up to his office," the man ordered as he walked off.

"Where is it?"

The sergeant ignored his question, simply laughing as he left, leaving Deeks on his own. He turned back to his weapon and swapped out the empty clip with a fully loaded one and looked down the line as others continued firing, the noise deafening now that his ear protection was off. When someone laid a hand on his shoulder, he tensed and spun around to confront whomever it was, his heart suddenly racing.

"Whoa, hotshot," said an officer with intense hazel eyes and just a hint of a smile. "Didn't mean to make you jumpy."

"What can I do for you?" Deeks asked as he took a step back.

"What'd you score?"

"Why?" Deeks said as he brushed past him and walked out into the quiet of the hall.

"Why not?" He shot back as he followed him out. "You trying to re-qualify isn't a big secret you know."

"So you go in for gossip?" Deeks asked as he turned to face him, angry all of a sudden.

"Is there some good stuff I need to know?" He laughed. "You datin' some famous starlet or something? Cause I would love to have some juicy new stories to pass around at my next little gossip session with the guys."

"Who the hell are you?" Deeks asked.

"Mick Rafferty," he answered. "And you're Marty Deeks."

"How do you know my name?" Deeks challenged, suspicious of his interest.

"You just received the Life Saving Medal, man. We tend to pay attention to guys who did what you did," Rafferty replied easily. "And yeah, I've heard the rumors about your partner's death. And no, I don't believe everything I hear."

"What are they saying around here?" He asked, blowing out his breath as he looked away.

"That you killed the two fuckin' bastards who did it," Rafferty said quietly.

"Yeah."

"So now will you tell me if you're qualified to carry an official police weapon?" He asked with a short laugh.

"Unless my psychologist rats me out," Deeks replied with a crooked grin.

"Shit. You're not fuckin' crazy are ya?" Rafferty asked, raising his eyebrows. "Cause crazy people scare me. My grandmother was crazier than a barrel full of monkeys. Used to chase me around the backyard with a willow switch. She's the reason I'm such a fast runner."

Deeks laughed out loud, all his tension suddenly gone. He noticed the hint of mischief in the other man's eyes and he thought he might have found a friend.

"Can you tell me where to find Lieutenant Bates' office?" He asked.

"I'll show you, lad," he said as he strode off down the hall. "He's a gruff one, but fair."

"Are you from Ireland? Thought I heard a slight accent," Deeks questioned.

"Born there. So, dual citizenship. Lived there till I was eight, then my dad, who's American, brought us back here to his family's home," he said as he guided Deeks through the halls of the division.

"What was he doing in Ireland," Deeks asked.

"Diplomatic Service. At least that's what he said," Rafferty winked. "My sisters and I always joked that he was a spy. Much sexier than a paper shuffler."

"So your mom's Irish?" Deeks was warming to the man the more they talked.

"Northern Donegal, born and bred," he laughed. "Granny too. The crazy one. She grew up on Tory Island, the wildest place in Ireland. No cops there, just lots of drinkin' and craic."

"Did you say crack? As in cocaine?" Deeks stopped and asked.

"Nah. It's a Gaelic word. Sounds the same, but different spelling and different meanin'," Rafferty explained. "It just means havin' fun. Tory's where we go to have a good time when we visit my relatives."

"How come you never followed your father into the diplomatic service?" Deeks asked.

"You're a good interrogator," Rafferty said. "When do I get to ask you questions?"

"Maybe over a beer later," Deeks said as he stopped in front of Lieutenant Bates office and knocked.

"Sounds like a plan," Rafferty said as he followed Deeks into Bates office.

"Looks like you're cleared for duty, Deeks," Bates said as Deeks stood silently in front of him. "Maggie signed off on your psych eval and you impressed the hell out of Sergeant Rojas at the shooting range, but I'm guessing he didn't tell you that."

"No sir."

"See you've met your new partner," Bates said with a smug smile. "Thought you two might hit it off."

"You knew?" Deeks turned to stared at Rafferty.

"Easier to get a sense of someone when they're not standing in front of a superior officer," he said. "That okay with you, or are you pissed again?"

"You pissed him off already, Rafferty?" Bates growled.

"Natural talent I guess, sir," Rafferty said as he turned toward the door. "I've got some paperwork to finish Deeks, but I'll meet you at O'Malley's at six. Thanks for the new partner, Lieutenant."

"Don't piss this one off like you did the last one," Bates said loudly as the door closed.

"What happened with his last partner?" Deeks asked with a sense of foreboding.

"Rafferty accused him of taking a bribe," Bates said. "IA couldn't prove it, but Rafferty wouldn't work with him after that, so now he has you. He's a good cop, kid. A stickler for regulations, two years of experience, and a wiseass just like you. I figured you'd cancel each other out."

"Thanks for taking me on, Lieutenant," Deeks said softly. "I know you didn't have to."

"So, do good by me, kid," Bates said, his eyes boring into him. "You're still being watched and now, so am I. Don't fuck up."

"No sir."

"Have the sergeant outside take you down to admin. They've got paperwork for you to sign," Bates instructed.

"Yes sir," Deeks quickly turning for the door.

"Officer Deeks?"

"Sir?"

"It's good to have you, kid."

Deeks nodded, the newness of it all dropping away with the kind word. He liked Mick Rafferty, but the thought of working with someone besides Vernon made him sad and reflective. It wouldn't be the same, but he couldn't deny he was looking forward to working again. He had a feeling he would be the one being grilled by his new partner tonight, knowing there was more to the man than what he had shown so far.

...

O'Malley's was a grungy, rather run-down pseudo Irish pub a few blocks from the station, so he was surprised to find it crowded, but not especially loud. There were multi-colored rugby flags hanging over the oak back bar and tattered Guinness posters tacked to the walls that looked to have been there awhile. He wedged his way past a couple of guys he made as cops, but there were some businessmen in suits and a few groups of laughing women being eyed by the guys at the bar. He spotted Rafferty leaning over a booth in the back telling a story that he apparently thought was quite funny, his laugh easily rising above the low din of the place. Deeks hesitated and then made a decision, taking up a position by a shelf on the back side of a square wooden column, effectively hiding himself from being seen by his new partner. He wanted time to watch him, assess him from afar as Rafferty had done at the shooting range. He wasn't sure why he was being so cautious, feeling slightly distrustful of a man who seemed so easygoing on the surface, but it was in his nature to be somewhat guarded around new people and he continued his surveillance.

The man had a good head of light brown hair, cut short on the sides, slightly long on top, but pushed away from his forehead, revealing a small scar. His hazel eyes were expressive under thick eyebrows, and his long nose dominated his face. He had a firm jawline and now that he was wearing a t-shirt, Deeks could see strong muscles ripple along his forearms as he gestured to make a point. He was shorter than he was, but he looked to be in great shape, no extra pounds that he could see, a hard stomach and a solid chest that indicated he worked out a lot.

Deeks watched and listened, smiling occasionally at some of the man's funny comments, until he began to feel slightly foolish for hiding from him. He was going to be partners with the man whether he liked it or not. As he moved to join him, a large man, slightly unsteady on his feet, approached Rafferty from behind, and Deeks tensed when he saw that he had a side arm under his jacket. On instinct, he moved quickly, winding through the crowd until he was close to his partner if he needed him.

"You fuckin' Irish dick," the harsh words halting most nearby conversations.

Rafferty turned to face him, any hint of laughter gone, his eyes wary and his jaw tight. His expression held obvious distaste, and his body language showed he was ready for a fight as was Deeks.

"What do you want, Purcell," Rafferty asked.

"IA pulled me in again," the man growled.

"What does that have to do with me?" Rafferty asked, acknowledging Deeks for the first time and nodding.

"What lie did you tell them this time, you fuck?" Purcell demanded.

"I didn't talk to them at all, now piss off," he replied coldly and turned away.

The powerful punch came without warning and landed solidly, just below Rafferty's back ribs, sending him onto the table in the booth. Before the man could follow it up, Deeks was on him, shoving him hard into one of the columns, telling him to calm down as he pressed a forearm into his chest. Purcell sneered at the interruption, slugging Deeks in the side of the face, knocking him off balance and making him mad. As the man started back toward his new partner, Deeks tackled him to the floor, landing a couple of punches that stunned him. He would have landed more, but someone pulled him off and held his arms, while a couple of the off-duty cops he'd noticed earlier pulled Purcell to his feet.

"Meet my new partner, Marty Deeks," Rafferty said, releasing Deeks' arms and putting a strong hand on his shoulder, firmly holding him in place.

"Figures they'd team you two up," Purcell said roughly. "Maybe he'll get you killed like he did his last partner."

Deeks blinked hard and started to rush him, but Rafferty wrapped an arm around his chest and held him back.

"This thick bastard's not even close to being worth it," he said in his ear.

Deeks saw the looks and he pulled free of Rafferty as the off-duty cops manhandled Purcell out the front door. He wanted out of there, out of the spotlight now shining so brightly down on him, and he turned quickly to leave.

"I owe you a beer, you know," Rafferty yelled out to him as he made it halfway to the door. "You wouldn't want to insult me on our first day, now would ya? Or don't you have a taste for Guinness?"

He stopped at an empty place at the bar as his new partner came up behind him and the patrons went back to their conversations. The side of his head was burning where Purcell had hit him and his eye was starting to swell, but he turned to look at Rafferty who was holding out a bar towel filled with ice.

"You'll have an impressive black eye by mornin'," he told him.

"How are the ribs?" Flinching as he pressed the icy compress to his face.

"Shoulda never turned my back on that sonofabitch," he said as he pulled his shirt up to have a look.

"Why did you?"

"Cause he's uglier than shit," Rafferty laughed. "My wife's gonna kick my butt worse though."

"You're married?"

"Why's that so shockin'?" He asked with a puzzled look. "I'm pretty damned handsome. Never had trouble gettin' a girl. Bet you don't either."

"I do all right," Deeks said with a crooked grin.

"You don't seem like the standoffish kind," Rafferty said as he slid a pint of Guinness over to him. "I saw you come in. Why didn't you come over?"

"No reason," Deeks said, trying to hide his surprise that he'd been spotted.

"You lie to your last partner?" He asked, draining half his glass of beer as he stared at him.

"It's easier to get a sense of someone when they don't know you're watching," Deeks grinned at throwing part of his partner's earlier comment back at him.

"But in this case, I knew you were watchin'," Rafferty laughed.

"Show off," Deeks said as he tentatively sipped at the dark liquid in his glass.

"That's pathetic," Rafferty said as he watched. "You're not much of a drinker are ya?"

"This stuff is like drinking wheat," Deeks said with a grimace.

"It's barley," he responded with a disgusted look on his face, and turned to address the bartender. "I'm gonna have to put in for another new partner, Conor. The lieutenant stuck me with a man who has no idea what a good beer should taste like. How am I supposed to work with this lad?"

"He did have your back in the fight, Mick," the bartender replied. "Took a punch for you. He might not be too bad."

"True," Rafferty looked back at Deeks, his face scrunched in concentration. "Isabel will like him. He's cute. She likes cute."

"You done?" Deeks asked.

"Try this one, man," the bartender said. "Smithwick's Irish Red Ale. Leave the black beer to the Irish lads."

"Aren't you Irish?" Deeks said as he gladly pushed the Guinness aside.

"Born in San Bernardino," he laughed as he headed down the bar. "Native Californian. Mom had a thing for Irish names."

"Thanks for havin' my back, Marty," Rafferty said quietly when they were alone.

"I learned from the best," he replied.

"Not everybody believes that shit Purcell was sayin'," Rafferty said. "And there's something you should know. Bates thought I should see what you went through, so he showed me the video."

Deeks hunched over the bar, his stomach suddenly roiling, feeling exposed and unsure what to say. He thought of that final moment with Vernon as private, an intimate experience so personal that the thought of others watching was like an intrusion deep within his soul. Rafferty laid a hand on his shoulder for a couple of seconds and then walked away, giving him time to process that his new partner had seen him at such a vulnerable time and he wasn't sure how to deal with that. He slowly drained the remains of his beer and pushed away from the bar, pulling out some cash, which Conor waved away. He was almost to the door, when he felt a hand on his back.

"Come on, partner. Isabel made tamales today," Rafferty said as he ushered him out the door.

"You don't have to do that," Deeks said, pulling away as they stopped outside.

"Do what? I can't go home alone and tell her I got sucker punched by my ex-partner," Rafferty said, a hint of pleading in his voice. "I won't hear the end of it unless you come with me."

"So I'm a distraction?" Deeks smirked.

"You're my partner. It's your job," Rafferty said quite seriously.

"Now who's pathetic?"

"She makes great tamales, so you won't be sorry," he said happily as he motioned him down the street to his car.

"Can I call you Mick?" Deeks asked. "Rafferty's a mouthful."

"Now you're makin' fun of my family name?" He questioned.

"No. It's just quicker to yell Mick in a firefight," he answered.

"Was that the first time you fired your weapon on the job?" Rafferty asked as he turned to look at him.

"The second," he answered.

"Well, let's just try and talk our way out of tough situations," he said gently. "I saw that you're pretty good at doin' that from the news footage during the riot."

"You know a hell of a lot more about me than I do about you," Deeks snapped, surprising his new partner.

"Listen, Marty. I don't have any idea what it's like to lose a partner like you did," Rafferty told him. "In two years on the job, I've fired my weapon three times. Never killed anyone like you had to do. But, I do know what it's like to lose someone you care about and what it feels like to be as angry as you are when people presume to know how you feel. I know that feelin, lad. You'll work through it and if I've been out of line, I'm truly sorry. I'm your partner now, and you can kick my ass if it'll make you feel better."

Deeks looked steadily at him, needing to see if he was being honest, needing to know he could count on him, that he didn't have to watch what he said around the man, that he was someone he could trust. He had been so close to Vernon and didn't think he would ever get that close to another partner in his career. He had never expected to lose Vernon. It had never crossed his mind, even though they were in dangerous situations all the time. He didn't know the man in front of him and wasn't ready to trust him just yet. He knew it would take time to adjust and that he should cut the guy some slack, but he still felt wary of him and of his new situation.

"I think I'll pass on kicking your ass tonight, okay?" Deeks finally said. "Maybe I'll try your wife's tamales some other time."

"Got it," Mick Rafferty said softly. "See you Monday."

"Yeah. Monday," he replied, stuffing his hands into his pockets guarding against the chill.

...

Deeks couldn't keep a crooked grin off his face as Vega wiped out for a third time. When he came up for air, Deeks pointed at him, bending over with laughter. Vega shook the water from his hair and made his way up the beach, undoing his leash and charging Deeks, cussing as he tackled him into the sand.

"Quit laughing, amigo," Vega said with a wide grin. "I told you it's been awhile."

"Or never," Deeks shot back as he held his hand out for Vega to help him up.

"You honestly telling me you never wipeout?" Vega chided him. "Cause a month ago I had to help your sorry ass out of a major pounding."

"Yeah, but those waves were gnarly, man," Deeks explained. "These are just foamies."

Vega didn't reply and Deeks looked over, noticing that his smile had disappeared and he was no longer watching the surf, but staring fixedly at the sand between his feet. One thing he'd learned since Vega had been living with him was that the man loved to talk almost as much as he did. He didn't seem to care what the subject was, he would tackle the opposing view, willing to debate into the wee hours of the morning if he was winning, claiming the win even if he hadn't won his point. Deeks told him he should become a lawyer, because he thought he would make a great litigator, but the man had just shaken his head and laughed, looking unsure and vulnerable.

"What's up, buddy?" He asked, trying to still the sudden rush of uncertainty and worry the man's silence had provoked.

"I'm going back home," he replied.

"What? Why?"

"Don't take this personally, amigo, but it's time for me to get away from this place," he said without inflection.

"What about your sessions with Maggie?" Deeks repositioned himself so he could see his face, searching for the emotions he knew were there.

"Come on, man. I'm just a hard luck case she took on as a favor to you," he whispered.

"Bullshit," Deeks said quickly. "She likes you and wants to help."

"She has. More than you know, but there are demons here for me," he answered. "And I need to fight them alone."

"So you're running?"

"I think of it more as escaping," he said after a deep breath.

"From what, man?" Deeks asked. "Talk to me."

"This isn't up for debate, amigo," Vega said firmly, looking intensely into Deeks eyes.

"I didn't say it was, but you know you can talk to me about anything," he told him earnestly.

They sat silently together for some time before Vega got up and began to walk toward the surf, finally stopping at the edge of the retreating foam. Deeks came up beside him, afraid to say anything that might spook him, seeing that he was struggling and hoping he would unburden himself.

"Do you know what friendly fire is?" Vega asked softly, his voice barely heard over the incoming waves. "It's when a person is killed by someone from his own side."

"Shit."

"I told you about the kid I killed, but not about the buddy I shot by mistake at the same time," he confessed as he clasped the back of his head with both hands. "I was scared that the bomb that kid was planting would go off and kill the whole squad, so I fired a burst. I didn't even see Brian on the other side of him. I was so focused on stopping that kid. I didn't see him, man. I didn't even see him."

Vega dropped to his knees in the wet sand and Deeks dropped down next to him, both hands gripping his shoulders as the man broke. His anguish was heartbreaking and Deeks held onto him tightly as his own mind flashed back to Vernon and the chilling pain he'd felt at the sight of his dead friend.

"His family's here," he choked out as he roughly wiped at his tears. "I came to LA to ask their forgiveness."

"What did they say?"

"It took me four months to get up the nerve to go see them," he said. "And two more of just sitting in my car across the street trying to figure out what I could possibly say. I was so fuckin' messed up by that time I was afraid whatever I said would hurt them even more. I never could do it."

"You don't have to tell me, brother," Deeks offered.

"Shit, Deeks. I couldn't even tell Maggie," swearing softly under his breath as he covered his face with both hands. "She knew though. She knew there was more, but I couldn't tell her. Shit, I don't even know why I'm telling you."

"Because I told you how I felt about Vernon's death," Deeks answered quietly.

"Brian was a skinny kid," Vega shared. "Really smart. Wanted to be a Marine Biologist. The guys always gave him a hard time about that for some reason. His mom sent him books all the time and he used to read to us at night. Kept our minds off things you know? Some of us even liked it."

"Did you debate him like you do with me?" Deeks asked with a small smile.

"He was really terrible at it," Vega laughed. "He hated to argue and hated when anyone else did too. Told me his parents fought all the time when he was a kid."

"Know the feeling," Deeks said.

Vega looked up sharply at him, his face softening as he clapped him lightly on the side of the face, nodding at their remembered conversation.

"I finally went to see them two days ago," Vega confessed. "Took me long enough, but I've been sober almost a month and I thought I could handle it. I was wrong."

"What happened?"

"His mother was home alone," he began. "She was happy to see me at first. Showed me his room and all the pictures they had of him. She wanted me to tell her stories about his time over there and that's when it got hard, amigo. Real fuckin' hard."

Vega scrambled to his feet, walking unsteadily into the shadows under the pier, and finally stopping to lean against one of the massive pilings. Deeks followed slowly, wanting to give him time. When he reached him, his face was drawn with sadness.

"I told her what I did, Deeks," he said as he looked out at the swirling waves. "I told her everything and she slapped me. I said I was sorry and she slapped me again and then I just broke down in front of her like a little kid, bawling my eyes out. She hugged me Deeks. She hugged me and forgave me right there in the living room where Brian grew up."

Deeks didn't know what to say as tears streamed from his friend's eyes. He pulled him into a brief hug and Vega clung to him, bringing a shimmer of tears to his own eyes.

"I can go home now," Vega whispered as he released him. "I need to tell my parents. If they accept me, then I'll stay."

"Talk to Maggie," Deeks counseled. "You owe her that."

"I told her I might go home and she gave me the name of a facility in Santa Cruz with a twelve step program," Vega said as he gathered himself. "I would never have made it without you, amigo. I owe you, too."

"Santa Cruz has some wicked waves, dude," Deeks replied, not ready to respond to his comment. "Cold water, but good waves that go on forever. You might even learn to surf there."

"Come for a visit and I'll kick your butt on those waves," Vega laughed softly.

"In your dreams, brother," Deeks said. "In your dreams."

"Thanks for everything, amigo."

"Forgive yourself, Orlando," Deeks whispered.

"Not easy to do, is it?"

"Yeah. No."

...

...