Chapter Thirty Six: Here You Come Again

"You want I should go get you a towel to cover your modesty with, Mikey?" Nico called helpfully, while keeping a tight hold of Hetty's arm, just in case. Even on the other side of the terrace she could see the blush on his cheeks travel all the way down his neck.

Kensi suddenly remembered the first time they'd slept together, in the literal sense of the word, seeing that nothing had actually happened, much to her chagrin, and the pale blue towel she'd removed once she knew Marty was so deeply asleep he was practically unconscious. Of course, she had only done that because he was her partner and still recovering from gunshot wounds, complicated by injuries sustained in rescuing her and the towel was damp and – well, she didn't want him to get double pneumonia on top of everything else. It had nothing whatsoever to do with the fact he was lying face down on the bed and had such a cute butt she couldn't resist the temptation. Of course it didn't. That would have been highly unprofessional. As would her idle speculation as to whether he had an all-over tan. It had almost been a disappointment to discover the truth, even if it hadn't really spoiled the overall effect. Still, she must remember to just that a little nude sunbathing might be fun.

"I want you should all go inside!" Marty yelled. "Give me a little privacy." He glared at Hetty: the last time she'd seen him naked he was four years old and he'd grown up a lot in the intervening 26 years. There was no way he was going to repeat old history.

"Spoilsport, "Kensi hissed, as she got to her feet. "And there's a full moon tonight and everything. Why don't you just grin and bare it?" She gave him an evil grin as she walked away, enjoying his predicament, even as she ushered Nico and Hetty indoors.

It was three to one and Marty knew he didn't stand a chance. But at least they were all inside the house now. He practically set a speed record for getting dressed, pulling on his clothes with such haste that he nearly popped his shoulder back out of its socket again. He didn't even attempt to put on his shoes, but just padded across the flagstones barefoot, leaving a Man Friday trail behind him all the way into the house.

"It's nice to see you, Hetty – even if it was unexpected." It wasn't easy trying to appear cool and calm when you were standing in front of your boss, dripping wet and aware that it was only by some miracle that she had not seen you as God intended, but Marty gave it his best shot.

Hetty settled back in the armchair he still thought of as his mother's, placed the tips of her fingers together and regarded him steadily. "It occurred to me that I have been somewhat remiss. I seem to have forgotten to congratulate you both on your engagement." She gestured to a long wooden box resting on the coffee table. "A present from me, along with my most sincere wishes for your future happiness."

He looked down and saw an engraved brass plate which read "MB and KB: may you two be always side by side" and when Marty flipped back the catches and opened the lid the box revealed a matching pair of Purdey shotguns, complete with walnut stocks and inlaid gold initials.

"Oh Hetty!" Kensi lifted out one gun and hefted it appreciatively, raising it to her shoulder and squinting down the sight. "I've never seen anything quite so beautiful." The workmanship was exquisite: they were guns to dream of, perfect for hunting.

Marty took a careful look at the gun and then closed the lid to read the inscription once again. "Nice pun," he murmured. "You're game for anything, aren't you, Hetty?"

Seeing how puzzled Nico was looking, Kensi put her out of her misery. "They're for shooting game, you see? And see how the barrels lie alongside each other – that's called a "side by side". Hetty – you couldn't have chosen anything more perfect."

"That's incredibly generous of you, Hetty," Marty murmured. "Very generous indeed." His finger ran over the engraved metalwork, marvelling at the sheer perfection of the weapon, whose basic design was so fine that it had remained virtually unchanged for over one hundred years. "A family tradition, of course. Thank you for remembering."

She smiled up at him, grateful that the bridge between them had been rebuilt. "It seemed the least I could do. They're something for your future."

"The Brandel males always got a matched pair of Purdeys on their eighteenth birthdays," Marty explained to Kensi. "Only when it came to me, Mom and Chris were dead and Dad was gone, so I never got mine. Until now."

"They were just waiting for you," Hetty said. "Your father had ordered them when you were just a small boy. All I had to do was to contact the manufacturer and arrange for the engraving and lettering to be added and then instruct them to be delivered. I'm sorry it took so long."

"No. Your timing is perfect. It's never been better." They were meant for him, Marty realised. His Dad had thought ahead, he'd planned this gift, but it had taken Hetty to bring it to him, to make the circle complete. That woman – she knew everything. She knew him so well, she could disarm him with a look, take away his anger with a gift. And perhaps he'd been a little rash earlier on. It was time to make amends.

"So – do you want to talk about Nell and how Kensi and I can help get her ready for this mission?"

"Don't forget that Mr Callen is being discharged from the hospital tomorrow. I think that he would welcome the chance to become involved." She knew a tacit apology when she heard one.

Once again, the Malibu house was becoming the delegated headquarters of OSP. Marty thought he really should contact his lawyers and see if they could write that off against his taxes. You didn't stay wealthy by letting things like that slip. The Government didn't exactly pay him much, after all.

"How long do we have?" Kensi could remember how scared Nell had been the last time she'd gone into the field.

"Two days. It's not much, but by then Mr Hannah will have completed his preliminary assessment period."

There were times when you just had to the very best job you could with limited resources and hope and pray that everything would go to plan and that the gods would not throw everything back in your face. There were times when you just had to take a chance and hope that your luck would hold. There were times when Hetty was sorely tempted to get back into the field, rather than having to sit back and watch helplessly when her plans disintegrated before her eyes and she saw her agents getting shot and killed. And then there were times when she looked at people like Marty and Kensi and she remembered what would happen if there weren't people like her around to protect them, both as agents and as individuals. And there were also times when she looked at them and wondered why such sublime happiness had escaped her. But there was no sense in dreaming when there was work to be done.