"Hi sweetheart."

Kensi woke up to see Deeks sitting beside her bed, sipping coffee and looking as if it was perfectly normal to spend the night with your girlfriend in hospital. She felt a huge swell of relief that he was there – there for her. Last night had seemed like a hazy sort of reverie, the sweet sort of dream that left you filled with an ineffable sadness when you awoke and found out that none of it had been real. This had been no dream, because there Deeks was, just as she remembered, looking strangely formal in a white dress shirt and dark trousers.

"I know. Not exactly my normal choice of clothing." Deeks gestured towards a jacket and tie slung casually on the back of his chair. "And not exactly my choice either."

Kensi made a gesture of astonishment. She didn't quite trust her voice yet. It could be bad, or it could be good – she just wasn't ready to risk it either way. But looking at Deeks in a suit was something she could get used to. Dressed or undressed, the man looked good and that was a fact.

"Yeah, well. Contrary to what people might I think, I do actually have a couple of suits – weddings and funerals for the use thereof." And other than that, he'd just stick to jeans, thank you very much. He bent down and picked up another cup of coffee. "I figured you might want this."

It tasted even better than it smelled and Kensi let out a rapturous sigh after the first sip and then nearly choked in astonishment at the normalcy of the sound she'd just uttered.

"That sounded good. You are going to get better, you know? You will get your voice back, I promise." He spoke with such earnestness and total sincerity that Kensi believed in him implicitly.

"Yes." In truth, it sounded more like 'yush', but that was quibbling over small, inconsequential details. The sense of achievement Kensi felt at her accomplishment was rivalled only by the first time she'd achieved a perfect score on the shooting range.

"See? What did I tell you? They should call me Doctor Deeks." He screwed his face up. "No, that's a terrible idea; makes me sound like a character in a kids TV show. A cartoon or smoething. Anyway, I was lined up to be this sleaze-ball lawyer in some lame-ass op LAPD was running, hence the suit. And then, right at the eleventh hour, Sam turns up with a 'get out of jail free' card. I guess they got some other poor sucker to do the necessary, but I wasn't in a mood to ask too many questions – I just wanted to get out of there."

All Deeks had been able to think about was getting to Kensi – at least when he wasn't mentally beating himself up for letting her down, so he hadn't asked any questions at all, he'd just high-tailed it out of there. Sam had driven to the hospital as if all the hounds of hell were after him, neither man talking at all. It was all very well for the doctors to say that they were cautiously optimistic that Kensi would make a good recovery, but Deeks had to see her for himself, to physically touch her before he could allow to believe that she would be alright. And she would be alright, because here she was, slightly battered, to be sure, but still Kensi. Right now, he couldn't ask for anything more.

Kensi leant back against the pillows and thought that Deeks looked like he'd spent a sleepless night – the shirt was crumpled and creased, his eyes were shadowed and there was the beginning of a familiar regrowth of beard and moustache, while his hair was already beginning to revert to its customary tousled state. What a pair they must make. But who cared what they looked like, because she was beginning to appreciate what a wonderful pair they made.

"I did get you a couple of things though. Because these hospital gowns are the pits. And I'm guessing they're going to want to keep you in for another day or so." The hospital gift shop was surprisingly well-stocked and he'd gone kind of mad.

"At least another day," a voice commented dryly and Deeks turned around to see a doctor standing there, white coat flapping open over dark-blue surgical scrubs, while a host of lesser medics hovered in the doorway. "But you are making great progress. I think we can safely remove that ICP that's been monitoring the pressure inside your skull."

Deeks was one huge beam. "That's great. And she's beginning to be able to talk more clearly too." He sounded as proud as punch, Kensi thought.

"I'm glad to hear that, Mr…?" The doctor didn't sound glad at all, he sounded highly put out, as if Kensi's progress was a personal affront to him.

"Deeks. Marty Deeks. I'm Kensi's partner." And wasn't that a nice ambiguous term? Jusging by the reaction this got, Deeks had the very definite impression that he was surplus to requirements, and his theory was confirmed by the surgeon's next statement

"Congratulations. Now, how about you let me examine my patient?"

It was quite obvious he wasn't wanted and contrary to what some people might believe, Deeks could take a hint, so he left them to it. He probably should check in with the rest of the team and let them know what was happening. Besides which, he'd finished his coffee and it was a matter of public record that he was unable to function properly in the morning until he'd had at least two cups. But first, he had something to ask the nurses. The cute one with the strawberry-blonde hair looked as if she'd be receptive, but just to make sure, Deeks composed his face into a suitably hopeful, yet modest expression. Two minutes later and he was walking away in the direction of the coffee-shop, a million-dollar grin stretching from ear to ear. It was good to know he could still pull out the old charm, even after a sleepless night. You had to use it, or lose it, after all.

"I might have known." Sam pointed to a corner booth where Deeks was sitting with a pre-occupied expression on his face. "Where else would we find him?"

"Why did you think I chose this place?" Callen asked. Apart from the fact it was directly opposite the hospital. You didn't exactly have to be a trained detective to work out where a caffeine addict would be. "I'll have my usual, and get him a refill while you're at it. He'll need it after we've broken the news about Louise." He ambled over and sat down opposite Deeks.

"Callen."

"Deeks. I'm glad we've got that sorted out."

"Very funny." Deeks downed the last of his coffee and sighed. "Sorry, I didn't get much sleep last night."

"Tell me something I don't know." Callen hadn't had much in the way of shut-eye either, but for very different reasons, reasons that still made him smile when his mind slipped back to last night. "You look like hell."

"As good as that?"

"Maybe not. How's Kensi?"

The smile that lit up Deeks' weary face was all that was required, but as usual the younger man had plenty to say. "She's doing great. Sitting up in bed, smiling and even managing to say a couple of things. The doctor seemed pleased." He stopped and raised an eyebrow as Sam slid into the booth beside him. "Why do I get the feeling I'm being trapped?"

Sam pushed another cup of coffee towards him, along with a muffin. "How about you just eat and drink and let us do the talking?"

"I'm not going to like this, am I?" This was beginning to look awfully like an ambush, Deeks thought, but the coffee smelled so tempting, and he couldn't remember the last time he'd actually eaten anything. God, he was so easy.

"Probably not," Callen admitted, wondering if he'd made the right move by sitting opposite Deeks. Just how long was his reach? Very possibly long enough to land a decent punch across the table he calculated rapidly and scooted as far back into the bench seat as possible as a precautionary measure before beginning to relate the facts of the situation with as much tact and diplomacy as he could muster, while Sam sat poised to grab Deeks by the scruff of his neck if required. It never hurt to have a back-up plan/

"I should have known Louise would do something like this." Deeks' voice was full of weary resignation. "She's kind of headstrong."

As if Callen didn't know that already. His butt was still stinging after Louise had got rather carried away with the whip last night. "A bit like Kensi, then?" he asked smoothly. What was it with this penchant he and Deeks had for strong women?

"I guess. Except Louise used to play field hockey at college – for blood. Literally. Her hockey stick had actual teeth marks in it. She showed me." Deeks shivered at the recollection. He had a very healthy respect for his sister.

Sam said nothing. If his wife ever found out about Jada, she would be after considerably more than his blood.

"She shouldn't have gone. Hetty shouldn't have let her go." Deeks slammed his hand down on the table. "Why the hell did Hetty let her go?" Trust Louise to make some gran gesture. Why couldn't she realise that he could actually look after himself, that he didn't need his big sister holding his hand? Except that he did. If it hadn't been for Louise, then he wouldn't have got to be with Kensi last night. Why did things have to be so fucking complicated? And why hadn't he just signed the papers when Hetty had given them to him?

"Hetty didn't exactly have much of a choice. We were all riding her about how you needed to be with Kensi, but she was pretty much helpless." It was probably time to pour some oil on troubled waters before Deeks lost the plot completely.

"Hetty – helpless? She's about as helpless as a sabre-toothed tiger. She could have said 'no'." And in that alternative universe Louise would have meekly agreed and everyone would have lived happily ever after. Not.

"Have you ever tried telling your sister she can't do something?" Callen asked curiously. Maybe he could get a couple of hints that might protect the delicate skin on his ass from future assaults.

"Are you completely mad? Of course I haven't – I'm still alive, and talking to you, which pretty much proves my point. But then I'm not Hetty." Deeks reached into his pocket and then remembered. "Any chance I could borrow your cell phone? LAPD took mine off me."

Sam handed his across without a word. It seemed safest that way. Deeks might appear to be taking this relatively calmly, but his jaw was firmly set and there was a small muscle twitching away ominously.

"You're going to call Hetty?"

Deeks gave Callen a long-suffering look. "No, I thought I'd just check in with Monty to see how he was doing."

"If it's any help, he tried to eat one of my socks this morning." Monty had actually managed to eat two-thirds of a pair Callen's boxers before that, but the senior agent didn't think that anyone needed to know he was currently going commando. Somehow, he just hadn't felt comfortable with the idea of borrowing Deeks' underwear.

"You stayed over at my place?" Deeks' finger hovered over the 'call' button.

"I was doing you a favour and looking after your dog."

Somehow, Deeks had the impression that Callen had spent less time looking after his dog than looking at his sister. Or worse. Still, this wasn't the time or place to go into all that. In fact, he'd rather not think about it at all. As long as they hadn't used his bed, it was really none of his business anyway. And if they had, Deeks hoped they'd had the decency to change the sheets. "Thanks."

"I'm sure you'd do the same." As Callen's own sister had been dead for over thirty years it was somewhat of a moot point. He watched with interest as Deeks placed the call. This was going to be good… Deeks v Hetty. Was there any doubt as to who would emerge victorious?

Deeks ended the call and then looked at the screen in confusion, checking that he'd called the right number. "It went straight to voicemail."

"Hetty is human," Sam reminded him. "All appearances to the contrary notwithstanding. Maybe she was, you know – on a break." Even Hetty had to answer the call of nature – didn't she? Although now that he came to think about it, Sam realised he had never actually seen Hetty excuse herself, or go anywhere near the ladies' room. Curious. Very curious indeed.

"No – you don't understand. The message just said that number was no longer in use." Hetty's official cell would have been diverted to another number, that was standard protocol. And if her phone had been hacked, she would have been issued with a new one and their own cells automatically updated with the new number. This didn't make sense.

"Let me try." There was always a chance it could be a glitch in the network. Callen pulled out his own cell, and tried Hetty's number, but to no avail. "Same message," he said shortly.

"My spider senses are starting to tingle," Deeks remarked and then shrugged as Sam shot him a glare. "Sorry." Okay, so some people didn't appreciate his attempt to reduce the tension ever so slightly. Either that or they just didn't have a sense of humour.

Ignoring him, Callen tried the emergency number: Hetty's private number and the one to which only her team had access. The one which was always answered, regardless of whatever time the call was made. He put it onto speakerphone:

"This is Henrietta Lang. I'm sorry, but I'm not available. If you need me, you know where to find me."

"Okay, this is seriously weird." His anger draining away now, Deeks finished his coffee. "So do we? Know where to find her, I mean?"

"I do. One of her houses – not the one we went to before Romania. Another one, an apartment actually." Hetty had more residences than most women had purses, and Callen had given up trying to keep track of them all, or where she might be at any given moment in time, which was why they had pre-arranged this rendezvous, just in case. For some reason, Callen had always imagined that it would only be used if he was in trouble, not the other way around.

"It could be nothing. She might just be sick."

"Hetty doesn't get sick, Sam."

"Maybe she's taking a personal day and doesn't want to be disturbed?"

This time, it was Deeks who was the voice of reason. "With Kensi in the hospital? I don't think so."

It had been worth a shot, but that made it official: something was wrong. And Sam didn't like it when his friends were in trouble. "We'd better go and find out then, hadn't we?"

"After we see Kensi." First things first, Callen thought, and then his cell pinged, showing a text message, which he scanned with growing disgust. "Vance wants to see us. By video-conference, of course."

"A command performance?" Sam had little time for their Director, trusting the man as far as he could throw him. Besides which, if it was really bad news, then Vance would come over to the west coast in person, if only to assert his superiority. The man's social skills were slightly less advanced than Attila the Hun's. "Then we're definitely seeing Kensi first."

"It's a pity Louise isn't here," Deeks sighed. "I would have loved to see her bring him down a few pegs."

Callen thought of how Louise had him on his hands and knees last night, and thought it best not to say anything. She really was quite remarkable and highly skilled in all sorts of unusual areas. Vance wouldn't stand a chance. God, he hoped she was okay. Life was suddenly infinitely more exciting with her around. He was in deep here and it felt amazing. Why hadn't he realised the difference one person could make? Louise; Kensi; Hetty. His life was full of these strong, incredible women and he couldn't afford to lose any of them. It was bad enough that Kensi was in hospital and Louise walking into God-knew what sort of situation, but now that Hetty had suddenly disappeared he was getting seriously worried. Enough was enough.