Chapter Thirty Eight: coming through the dark

"You should be so lucky."

"Spoilsport. Just ruin my fantasies, why don't you?" The thought of Kensi in sheer black stockings was particularly beguiling.

"Why not? I'm a happily married-man who isn't allowed to even think about things like that unless Denise gives me express permission. And, seeing as how you keep promising to make an honest woman out of Kensi, I don't see why you should be either."

"One – I'll thank you to leave me out of your fantasies, Sam and two – exactly what makes you think I won't be the one giving you the bed baths, Marty?" Kensi asked. What wasn't to like about the prospect of running a cloth slowly down his gorgeous body? There were a lot of women who would gladly pay to do that.

Marty opened his eyes at that and gave her a hopeful look. "You mean you packed the nurse's outfit? Tell me you remembered the black stockings?"

"Too much information. Like I said – I'm a happily married man, whose wife just happens to be thousands of miles away. So knock off trying to make me jealous. Because it's working."

"You're a pair of real wind-up merchants, are you?" the paramedic asked sympathetically. "Leave the poor man in peace." She produced a pair of scissors. "Sorry, but I'm going to have to look at that leg wound."

"These are brand new pants – I only put them on this afternoon." Marty suddenly remembered he'd left his jacket and shoes lying on the beach. At this rate, he was going to be leaving the hospital practically naked. Unless, of course, he could manage to obtain some surgical scrub pants - which would make Kensi very happy. And if she was going to wear the nurse's uniform, he was more than happy to wear the scrubs. Result all round.

"I'm not going to touch your pants, don't worry," the paramedic soothed, wondering what on earth American EMTs got up to in the course of their duties. She'd heard stories, of course… "Just your trousers. We'll try and leave you with some dignity, son."

Sam grunted. "As long as he didn't go commando – again."

"Speak for yourself, Sam." Kensi was taken aback to see how deeply he blushed at that and decided to push the point. "Sometimes I almost feel sorry for Callen. It can't be much fun being partnered with a man who can't even be bothered to wear underwear." She was trying very hard not to look at the ragged tear in Marty's leg.

"Any idea how you did this?" The paramedic ran a gentle finger down the wound and Marty just managed not to flinch.

"Must have been when the stairs collapsed underneath me. Maybe a nail or something like that?" he hadn't felt anything, but it had all happened so fast. It was strange, because you'd think that it would have hurt like fun when it happened. He risked a quick look, and saw a disturbing amount of mangled flesh and congealed clots of blood.

"Could be." She placed a sterile dressing over it. "You'll probably have to go to theatre to get that cleaned out properly and stitched up."

"He's going to be on crutches, isn't he?" Sam groaned when the paramedic nodded her agreement. "Great. I bet Callen's going to need an eye-patch too and between them they're going to look like Long John Silver on a bad day."

"Stop talking so much, and just concentrate on breathing that oxygen," the paramedic advised dryly. "We're nearly there now and we'll take your friend straight through to resuscitation. Not that we think he's going to need that," she reassured Kensi, who had gone ashen. "But that's where they've got all the equipment. Can you go and give his details to the reception desk?"

"Sam?" Kensi said, with a pleading note in her voice.

He nodded, knowing that she wanted to stay with Marty. "I'll do it. Not that I'm guaranteeing to remember all his long and convoluted medical history, but I'll do my best." The ambulance pulled to a halt and Kensi had to let go of Marty's hand and watch as they rushed him in through the automatic doors.

"He'll be fine. He always is." Sam gave her a brief hug.

"I know. And you make sure you get yourself checked out too."

Hetty was standing waiting for them, arms crossed and with a slightly lop-sided appearance caused by a swollen jaw, which was already starting to bruise. "Straight through there, Mr Hannah. I've already alerted the medical staff and they're just waiting to check you over. Smoke inhalation can be nasty." She gave him a beady glare and then her face softened unexpectedly. "What you did – going in there after Rowena and Jack – it was very brave. I'll be recommending you for a commendation."

For once, Sam was lost for words. He nodded his head briefly in acknowledgement and meekly went off in the direction she had indicated.

"Mr Callen is still being seen by an ophthalmologist." Hetty's voice was not as crisp or decisive as usual, and Kensi suspected she was in more pain than she was letting on. "If this has set his recovery back, or compromised his eyesight, EJ Barratt will rue the day she was born."

"Not to mention the fact that Marty has a leg wound that's going to require surgery." Kensi gritted her teeth. "Just wait till I catch up with her."

Hetty debated whether or not to tell Kensi that EJ was currently at large, and decided that her agent had more than enough to be going on with at the moment. And with any luck, the police would pick EJ up quickly. She wasn't exactly going to be unobtrusive, what with those leather pants and her hands tied behind her back. All things considered, discretion seemed the better part of valour. "Go and see how Marty's getting on. I'll catch up with you later. There's a few phone calls I have to make first of all."

At some point she was going to have to alert Leon Vance to the fact that and NCIS agent had gone rogue and was not at large, armed and dangerous, in a foreign country. Which could prove to be rather embarrassing to the US authorities, so that would mean a call to the Consulate in Edinburgh and hauling someone out of bed. However, there was someone else she needed to speak to first. Despite appearances to the contrary, Hetty didn't actually like having to devious or going behind people's backs, but she was left with no choice.

"Nico? It's Henrietta Lang here. Now, you're not to worry, dear, but I'm afraid Mr Callen is in the hospital. Along with Mr Deeks. And his father, and stepmother." The loud agitated noises at the end of the phone made Hetty pull her cell away from her ear and sigh. It looked like it was going to be a long night.

Oh dear - Nico and Kensi on the war-path - EJ really doesn't stand a chance, does she? What a pity...