"Get Hetty on the phone," Kensi said, and then chugged back the rest of the bottle. "And tell her to bring more beer. We're going to need it."
Sam did as he was told, knowing better than to mess with Kensi when she was in one of her moods. Judging it was safer to text than to speak aloud, his fingers flew over the keypad. "SOS. K knows abt poker. V mad. Bring beer."
"Did I hear someone say beer?" Deeks staggered groggily through. Kensi couldn't quite work out if she was relieved or disappointed to see that he was wearing a pair of pyjama bottoms and a t-shirt.
"Where did you get those from?" Because I certainly didn't see them the other day. And I went through all the drawers in your dresser very carefully indeed.
"Back of my closet. Why?" You've been going through my stuff, haven't you? Bet you didn't find my secret hiding place though.
"Because I would have got them out for you. All you had to do was ask." She gave him her sweetest smile, one that was only slightly flavoured with beer.
"I'm not sure you should be drinking," Callen said hesitantly, as Deeks snagged a beer and then settled himself comfortably on the couch, snuggling into Kensi, who briefly contemplated resistance, but was enjoying the way his body felt, leaning against her own too much.
"The hospital gave me express instructions to drink lots of fluids. Beer's a fluid." There was no faulting Deeks' impeccable logic.
"Yes, but you're on antibiotics. You can't drink on antibiotics."
"Actually, you can," Sam corrected gently. "You just get drunk a whole lot faster." I think I was about 15 when I worked that one out. Boy, did Dad read me the riot act next morning. It took the rosebush by the front door about a year to recover and the goldfish was never quite the same afterwards.
"That's only the penicillin-based ones. I told them I was allergic." Deeks looked insufferably smug.
"You're not allergic to penicillin," Kensi protested. She'd been through every inch of his personnel file, having bribed Eric by threatening to telling Hetty about the 'emergency use only' joint he had taped underneath his desk in Ops.
"I know. But this way it means I can have a beer." He smiled beatifically at her and slung his arm around her shoulders. "Isn't this cosy?"
"We ordered pizza. Hetty's bringing it over with her. And she knows, by the way." Sam nodded at Kensi, who pulled away and scuttled over to the far corner of the couch.
"About the game?" Deeks looked slightly sick. "Oh."
"Oh indeed, you traitor." Kensi lobbed a pillow at Deeks with unerring accuracy, just as he raised the beer bottle to his lips, spilling a goodly amount down his shirt. "Thanks for nothing. Some partner you are."
"It could have worse. He could have shot you in the butt, Kensi."
"It was an accident," Kensi ground out.
"I believe you." Deeks patted her knee patronisingly. "But it wasn't my place to invite you anyway. I'm the newest member. If you're going to blame someone, blame them. Or Hetty." he dabbed ineffectively at his sodden garment and wondered if it would just be easier to suck the beer out.
"Did I hear someone mention my name?" Hetty came in, accompanied by the mouth-watering smell of pizza and the welcome clink of beer bottles.
Kensi looked at her with considerable befuddlement, being absolutely certain that she'd locked the door after letting Sam and Callen in. And then it dawned on her. "You've got your own key, haven't you?"
"Of course I do." Hetty sat herself down on the couch, cunningly placing herself between Kensi and Deeks, or a rose between two thorns , as she liked to think of it. "We all do. All the poker buddies, I mean."
"I don't! And I'm his partner." Poker buddies? Excuse me while I throw up. If anyone had a right to the key to his apartment, it's me.
"It's handy for the games," Hetty said smoothly. "It means we don't interrupt the action if anyone is late. Mr Deeks, why are you soaking wet? I'm sure that can't be good for you."
"Kensi threw her beer over him. She's not very good at looking after sick people," Sam explained.
Callen took up the cudgels. "We found she'd left Deeks lying in bed with soaking wet hair, and Sam had to dry it for him."
"Excuse me? Why are you all talking about me as if I'm not here? Just because I can't play poker doesn't make me invisible."
"See, I knew she'd admit it sooner or later. That's why you're not part of the game, Kensi – because you can't play poker. Simples." Sam smirked at her in a superior manner. "And Deeks is shivering. Go help him get into something dry."
"That's not what I meant and you know it, Sam Hannah. And if Deeks wants to get into dry clothes, he can do it himself."
"That's not very kind of you, partner." Deeks gave a wholly unconvincing cough, followed by a convulsive shiver. "I guess I'll have to manage by myself. Somehow." He levered himself up painfully, manfully restraining a whimper. "Don't worry, Kensi, I'm not in too much pain. The agony's bearable. Just about." He patted his butt gingerly. "And the doctor said it wouldn't leave too huge a scar."
"For crying out loud. Are you forgetting I've seen the damage at close quarters? You've got a wound on your butt that's barely two inches long. And it only seems to bother you when you want it to. The rest of the time, you're perfectly fine."
"You want to tell us exactly when you were ogling Deeks' bare ass, Kensi? And why?" Callen regarded her curiously.
It was the proverbial last straw. "No I do not want to tell you. What I want is for you," she jabbed Deeks in the chest, "to get into the bedroom and for the rest of you to get out of here. And leave the beer and pizza when you go."
Kensi grabbed hold of Deeks' hand and dragged him along behind her as she made a strategic retreat. All the while Deeks could be heard saying plaintively, "Be gentle with me, Kensi. Remember, I'm not well."
"And about time too." Hetty stood up and rubbed her hands together briskly. "I've been wondering when those two would show some horse or common."
"Excuse me?" Sometimes Sam found it impossible to follow the convoluted turns of her mind. And that was on a good day. Which this was, incidentally. A very good day indeed. The things he'd seen…
"Sense, Mr Hannah, sense. Something neither of them have shown much of, recently. Young people today." She smiled at her two agents. "Of course, you are both much too old and much too sensible to indulge in such juvenile antics.
Callen loved the way Hetty could manage to insult and praise in one short sentence. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you engineered all this deliberately."
"Even I have my limits. Admittedly, they are few and far between, but they do exist."
He looked at the bedroom door, which was firmly closed. "Anyone else think that Kensi's pushing Deeks to his limits as we speak?" As long as she never found out that he and Sam had actually let themselves into the apartment fifteen minutes before she'd heard them knocking on the door, he reckoned they'd be fine – eventually. Even Kensi couldn't hold a grudge forever.
When they'd first arrived, the two agents had been concerned at the hoarse moaning coming from the bedroom.
"Jeepers – Deeks sounds like he's in a bad way." Sam had led the way along the hallway, full of concern for his colleague as the groans increased in volume. While Kensi had not only had her back (her bare back) to the door and had, in any case, been otherwise occupied, Deeks had seen their faces quite clearly as they'd peeked around the bedroom door. To his everlasting credit, he had not only given them a broad grin, but a 'thumbs up' into the bargain. You really had to admire the guy's style. Kensi certainly seemed to.
