THE HIGH PRIESTESS…Write about a female religious figure
They looked to her in awe, her feats recounted in hushed whispers.
"I heard that she stopped air force one with a phone call."
"No, it was the Russian military."
"Wasn't it in the Middle East?"
"That's nothing. I heard she made Turkish diplomats have tea with her before discussing matters of war."
"Now that's an exaggeration."
"And your story of her weapons cache isn't?"
"At least mine makes sense!"
"Did you know that people owe her favours worldwide?"
"Isn't that normal for military and diplomatic types? Also, that isn't even news."
"Even in the Japanese royal family?"
Hetty chuckled quietly to herself and took a sip of her tea.
Honestly, some of her supposed 'exploits' were getting more twisted by the moment.
"It was the Saudi royal family, wasn't it?" Mr Callen asked curiously with a tilted head.
"Drink your tea, Mr Callen."
They left her offerings in thanks and for protection. Usually in the form of tea but she took carpets and flowers too.
A bunch of flowers were on her desk that morning. She stared piercingly at them. They were fresh and they definitely hadn't been there last night. The blooms were beautiful, if a little unorthodox; thanks, protection, healing bound together with hope and trust. Rather like the man who delivered them.
"You should be at home recovering, Mr Deeks," she chided into the shadows of the unlit mission. "One does not recover from a bullet to the chest by walking around."
A raspy chuckle came from behind the stairs.
"Couldn't fool you, huh Hetty?" The shaggy-haired man said humourlessly.
"Did you really expect to?"
"Not really, but I was hoping to get away before you came in. You're early today."
"Merely on time," she replied enigmatically.
"Couldn't sleep either?" He asked knowingly.
"How are you feeling, Mr Deeks?" She asked. "I believe that is more important."
"No beating around the bush?"
"I'm not entirely sure how you managed to slip away from your partner but I'm sure you want to get back to her before she raises hell trying to get you back. So let us dispense with the niceties."
He shrugged at her. Honestly, what was it with her boys and nonverbal communication? She gave him a disapproving look.
"Still feel like crap, " he elaborated.
"Yet, coming here was still me important than healing."
"Had an important errand to run."
"Indeed."
Mr Deeks shifted awkwardly on his feet, the movement making him wince. She frowned at him.
"I better get back before Kensi literally tears people apart."
"That would be wise."
He coughed and flushed slightly.
"Thanks for, you know," he said awkwardly.
"My signature needs no thanks, " she told him gently.
"Well," and he waved awkwardly at the flowers.
"They are beautiful flowers," she said to him before he turned away. "But most unusual."
"Fits the person they're for then," Deeks said with a fond grin before leaving.
Miss Blye had somehow managed to source her favourite tea for her before she had gone off the grid for her father's case. She suspected that Mr Callen had pointed her in the right direction, when, she didn't know. A little token of asking for pre-emptive forgiveness and a silent plea for protection. Not for her, but her team. Her only remaining family. It wasn't really wasn't needed but she accepted it nonetheless. Her job was to protect her people, from themselves if necessary and no amount of tea was going to spare Miss Blye from her well-practiced lecture on depending on one's team.
She demanded payment for her dealings. Not all the time. Just enough to remind them that everything came at a cost.
Mr Callen grinned unrepentantly at her as he dropped a rather dusty carpet next to her desk.
"Dare I ask what this is for, Mr Callen?" she asked, peering over her glasses.
"It's your carpet!" He told her proudly, patting the top of it causing dust to escape from it.
They both coughed and tried to wave it away. It settled most unpleasantly on her burgundy blazer.
"It is a carpet, Mr Callen. I may have lived a longer life than you but my mind is still clear. I can say with the utmost certainty that this carpet is not one of mine."
Mr Callen chewed his lower lip and waved is hands at it, thankfully not touching it again.
"It the one from me and Nate. For your help and saving our asses."
"Nate and I, have I not taught you the importance of good grammar?"
Brushing her comment off, he asked her somewhat anxiously (undetectable to everyone but her), "Do you like it?"
"I don't even know what it looks like - no do not unravel that dusty thing in here Mr Callen. That sandy dust is near impossible to get rid of."
Her top agent froze in his attempt to tug apart the precarious bindings and gave her a guilty look.
"We were kind of in a rush to get out of the country," he tried to excuse the dirt.
Hetty shook her head in despair at her agents' antics but there was a smile tugging at her lips.
"And you do not know how to operate a vacuum?"
"I don't own a vacuum and didn't you once tell me that vacuums destroy the natural fibres?"
"Well done, you paid attention."
"Always," he deadpanned.
"Leave it here, Mr Callen and I will deal with it appropriately," she told him, inspecting what of the pattern was visible.
He nodded unsurely at her, not convinced she approved. She ran her fingers over it, making tracks in the dust. Oh, it was of perfect quality.
"And thank you Mr Callen. It is most acceptable," she said to his retreating back.
He turned around with his cheeky grin and told her teasingly, "I had to talk Nate out of a blue and bright yellow one. It had pink dots too. I think he's colour-blind."
Hetty shuddered at the thought.
"It would explain the man's poor taste in ties.," was all Hetty would comment before shooing him away.
She looked appraising at the rolled-up carpet. Very acceptable indeed.
They tried to bribing her with promises of good deeds and perfect behaviour.
"I swear this will be the only time, Hetty," came a pleading tone.
Mr Callen nodded vigorously in agreement. Sam snorted in the background and Kensi rolled her eyes as Hetty frowned disapprovingly at her blue-eyed boys in front of her.
"We won't cause a spectacle," Mr Callen added.
"You most certainly will not. Especially since you will not be doing it."
"Hettyyyy," her two blue-eyed boys pleaded.
"There's no harm in it," Mr Deeks threw in.
Hetty simply arched an eyebrow.
"They won't even know who did it," Mr Callen added.
"I am well aware of both your abilities for remaining under cover but it does not matter for I will know that you did it."
They pouted at her. Those puppy dog eyes may well work on the ladies but not on her. She was immune. Especially when they widened their eyes like that.
"I'll even get you the tea you like from there," Mr Callen said persuasively. "You like it from there, don't you?"
She folded her arms and frowned more heavily.
"Do you really think I can be bought over for a box of tea?"
"Of course not," but his face said 'Yes' and then he added with a smirk. "Two boxes on the other hand..."
She sighed heavily and shook her head. They really would be the death of her.
"Three boxes," she said decisively. "And for goodness's sake stick to the shadows."
"Yes!" Mr Callen and Mr Deeks cheered, exchanging high fives much to their partners' dismay.
"I'm driving!" Mr Deeks claimed, darting for the door.
"You wish," Mr Callen retorted in hot pursuit.
Hetty shook her head ruefully. She really was getting too soft.
She struck fear into the hearts of the unworthy.
The man in the interrogation chair paled when she came face to face with him. Her lips curled into a predatory smirk. Oh goody, he had heard of her.
This man deserved no mercy nor hidden hits. He had gone after her team. No one went after her team.
"Henrietta Lange," he managed to stutter out, the first thing he had said in all the hours he'd been here.
"Ah, you've heard of me," she said mildly, eyes gleaming and ready for the kill.
She did hope this one didn't soil himself.
They partook in rituals to seal deals
"Chrysanthemum tea has plenty of health benefits, Mr Hanna. As only you can appreciate," Hetty informed her Ex-Seal as she added boiling water to the teapot and letting it brew.
None of this straight into a cup for her. No, this was the proper way to do tea.
"As long as I don't have to make t this time," he replied, eyeing the pot suspiciously and clenching the delicate handle of his cup.
"Perish the thought. I am not wasting this batch," she announced.
Sam muttered something impolite under his breath about mould. She gave him a sharp look and he hastily straightened up. Hetty had been very good, promising leeway in this case. At the very least he could sit and have tea with her until the Calvary returned.
"Relaxing, lowers stress levels and good for the gut," Hetty reeled off, lifting the lid off and giving it a cautionary sniff.
"Sounds perfect," Sam said unconvincingly.
"Oh, it is," she assured him, motion in at his cup so she could pour the tea into it in a delicate stream.
Well, it didn't smell as bad as last time. Not a hint of mould. Still didn't smell appetising but it wouldn't kill him.
He grinned at her gamely and raised the delicate cup before chugging most of it down in one go, much to Hetty's displeasure. Almost immediate he started to gag and his throat felt like it was on fire.
"You are supposed to savour it, Mr Hanna," Hetty scolded.
"Water," was all he gasped, reaching for his bottle.
Hetty sighed heavily, shook her head and took a dainty sip of her own. She'd teach him to a precise her tea yet.
She performed rituals to clear the way for them, bartering with the Gods of their profession.
"So, help me Pierre, if you don't give me the uncensored version within the next ten minutes, I will show your boss that footage from 1987."
"Yes, I'm aware that it is blackmail, that's why I'm mentioning it. If I wanted to simply punish you, I would have sent it without saying anything to you."
"Say to Martin that all will be forgiven after this."
"No, of course not forgotten. Do you take me for a fool?"
"Yes, I will send the appropriate files to the Senator."
"Honestly how difficult is this to understand? On our servers within the hour or you will not like the outcome."
"I expect my people to have it within the hour. Thank you."
Hetty slammed down her phone with a satisfying 'Thunk'. She didn't care about the ravings of the latest mobile technology (although she was most certainly well-versed), nothing beat slamming down a proper phone back into its place after several frustrating phone calls.
The cord had an amazing number of uses as well...
She protected each and every one of them with all her might for they were hers and no one else's.