A/N: Nights at Honey's chapter 4. Thanks again to everyone for the comments, reviews, and support. Special shout out to my guest commenters, who I can't reply to.
"Hey, I got the surveillance tapes," Nell told Kensi as she quickly walked to the opposite side of the boat shed. "Is he still there?"
Kensi glanced over her shoulder where Deeks was sitting, still being questioned. For the most part, he'd remained serious, giving as detailed information as he could, but occasionally, apparently when he didn't appreciate a cartoon line of questioning, he turned sarcastic and irreverent.
"Yup. I think he might actually be enjoying himself," Kensi answered, rolling her eyes even though Nell couldn't see her. "I'll let Sam and Callen know you're sending over the videos."
"No need. I'm here." Kensi frowned at her phone, and Nell's overly chipper tone. She walked out onto the pier. Sure enough, Nell was walking towards her, a tablet held between her palms.
"Nell, what are you doing here?"
"Well, I was in the area so I figured–" Nell shrugged, like it made sense that she had left OPS for no apparent reason. Kensi followed her back into the boat shed, pausing just inside the room.
"Oh my god, he's even better looking in real life," Nell whispered, her voice a lot louder than Kensi would have been comfortable with herself.
"Is that why you came down here?" Kensi asked in mild disbelief.
"Hey, it gets lonely up in OPS sometimes." She walked forward, holding up the tablet. "Hey guys, I got the video." Then she held out a hand to Deeks and added, "Nell Jones, technical analyst."
"Nice to meet you," Deeks said, smiling genuinely. "Marty Deeks, 3/4ths of a lawyer."
Smiling back at him, Nell sat down in the chair next to him and turned on the tablet. Sam and Callen shared a look of amusement, which she ignored completely. Kensi just shook her head; sometimes Nell's audacity astounded her.
"This is some surveillance video from the clubs, including Honey's," Nell explained. "We want to see if you recognize anyone who came in contact with the victims."
Nell ran through several minutes of feed from each club, putting the grainy video on double speed. When they reached the ones with Elijah and Deeks, he shook his head, looking apologetic.
"I'm sorry, I don't recognize her."
"You seriously don't remember a woman you gave a five minute lap dance to?" Sam asked in disbelief.
"I have a pretty good memory for faces, but I meet a lot of different people in my job," Deeks explained in an even tone. "Without seeing a good image of her face, I can't tell. I just know she's probably not a regular."
"How many regulars do you have?" Nell asked curiously, but without any judgement. With a dry chuckle, Deeks glanced down, a hint of discomfort coloring his face.
"Yeah, that uh, might take a while. It's not most of our...clientele, but we get enough women, and a few men, coming in at least once a week."
"Well, I think that's all we need from you," Callen said, wrapping things up. "Kensi will accompany you to work and provide security."
"I'm sure Agent Blye is excellent company," Deeks started, not bothering to get up just yet. "But don't you think it's going to look a little suspicious if she's always at the club? I think people are going to notice if she's following me everywhere."
"Good point," Sam said, surprisingly, turning to Kensi with a smirk. "You just became Honey's brand new hostess."
"And you just happen to work all the same shifts as Deeks," Callen added, seeming just as amused as Sam.
"Guys, the owner has already seen me," Kensi said a little desperately. She'd psyched herself up for following Deeks around for a few days, but she wasn't ready to be surrounded by strippers–by him–all day long.
"There was nothing to suggest Coleman is involved in the murders," Nell said helpfully. "I'll get Eric on it. You can use one of your old aliases."
Kensi glared at her, following the tiny woman, who was currently being a terrible friend back outside while Sam and Callen went over a few more details with Deeks.
"What was that?" she demanded as soon as they were out of hearing range.
"I was just giving you an opportunity to get to know Deeks a little better," Nell said innocently. "I mean, he's totally your type."
"He is not!"
"Right." Nell coughed into her hand, saying something that sounded suspiciously like "Leo". "You don't have a thing for guys with blue eyes and blonde hair at all. Not to mention that body." She pressed her lips together and nodded significantly.
"Oh my god, you are just–"
"Completely right," Nell sang quietly, looking beyond Kensi with an innocent smile as Callen, Sam, and Deeks came out too.
"Kens, you'll stay with Deeks during the day when he's at work or at his apartment. We'll switch off for his classes and during the night," Callen told her, gesturing between himself and Sam.
"How long do you plan to keep this up?" Deeks asked, crossing his arms.
"Well, based on the times between each killing, our mysterious woman doesn't have a lot of patience. It probably won't be more than a week."
Kensi tried not to show her consternation. A few days was bad enough, but she was looking at a possible week of spending every day with Deeks.
"That's sound great. But if things don't work out like you planned, then what?"
"We'll cross that bridge when we get to it."
Wonderful, Kensi thought. She had a feeling that one way or another, Marty Deeks would be the death of her.
Kensi sat outside the small changing room that Deeks was using backstage, the sound of overly loud music filtering through the thin walls.
By the time they'd reached Honey's Eric and Nell had worked their magic and Kensi was officially the club's newest hostess. Simon Coleman had regarded her suspiciously as he handed her a white shirt and black slacks, but didn't say a word.
Deeks came out after another minute in all black, the shirt unbuttoned to his mid chest and of a thin, material that clung to his chest. Kensi's eyes followed the length of his long legs straight down to his feet and then back up again. The color contrasted nicely with his hair and tanned skin. She'd noticed that unlike most of the other dancers she'd seen, his tan was a natural golden brown, probably courtesy of his frequent runs and surfing sessions.
A couple people came and went, grabbing costumes and nodding to Deeks as he sat in front of one of three mirrors, running a comb through this hair. Despite his best efforts, wayward curls and strands kept escaping, refusing to be tamed.
"I'm kind of surprised no one has asked what I'm doing here," Kensi commented, to fill the silence and keep her mind on something other than his body.
"Oh, yeah, I told everybody you're my girlfriend," he said casually.
"You what?" He caught her eye in mirror and grinned.
"And that you're kind of territorial."
"You're an ass." He shrugged at her assessment.
"Believe me, I've been called far worse before," Deeks shared. "Mostly by my father."
"That's awful," Kensi blurted out in surprise and he nodded.
"So was he." Before Kensi could say anything to that loaded comment, a woman poked her head through the door and said,
"Five minutes, Deeks."
"Thanks, Livia." He started clearing up his station as Kensi watched, checking his reflection one more time.
"Why did–?"
"What?" Kensi hesitated and he rolled his eyes. "Oh come, Agent Blye, you haven't been shy with your questions before."
"Why don't you find a job that's more...well, respectable?" He chuckled at that and rolled his eyes.
"You know, most of us here aren't degenerates," he teased. "It's mostly college students like me, single moms…you know, people who don't have enough training to get a "legitimate" job."
"But you're not untrained," Kensi pointed out. "You have a bachelors."
"I do, but I can't work full time and all the jobs that cater to broke college students require too many hours. And before you ask, internships in my field pay next to nothing. Exotic dancing pays better than most jobs for fewer hours," he explained with an air that suggested he'd prepared for this specific conversation. Maybe even had it with himself.
"I thought you said you were a scholarship kid." She knew he was. It was one of the many things that intrigued her about him.
"I am. My scholarships only covers tuition and I lost part of it when I took my sabbatical." He shrugged. "Before I got this gig, I was getting pretty desperate, working six hours a day just to pay rent on top of attending classes. One of my friends knew a couple people who worked here, or at other clubs, and suggested I consider it. Eventually I got desperate enough that I did." He caught her eye and said, "I guess you've probably haven't been in that kind of situation before."
"Believe me," Kensi murmured. "I have." They nodded, seeming to understand what she left unsaid and then he pulled in a deep breath as a song with a heavy beat started.
"Well, looks like it's show time."
A/N: Next up, Stripper Deeks in action!