Two days after the current year had flown in, the Mission returned to life. As Deeks walked through the double doors, the familiar buzz of activity enveloped him, easing him into work mode. Turning the corner, he slowed, noticing the eyes of his team focusing on him. Even Hetty, standing in the bullpen before his desk, was staring.
"Hello?" He spoke, beginning to feel a tad creeped out at the attention. "What did I do?"
"That's the question Deeks," Sam gruffed out, pointing at the desk beside his. Deeks, now thoroughly confused and curious, moved closer, Hetty shifting to her right, to reveal a nameplate, sitting proudly for all to see. 'Det. Marty A Deeks LAPD' was stamped on a beautiful, soft grey plate, a walnut holder cradling the plate. Deeks picked the plate up gently, his face unable to hide the emotion that the small gift evoked.
Hetty and her agents grew silent, seeing his face and realizing they were wrong. "Mr. Deeks, I take it by your reaction that you in fact did not place that?"
"N…no seriously I didn't. After I left here the day before Christmas, I headed straight for San Diego. That's why I had Monty with me, so we could get a jump on traffic."
Hetty moved to Callen's desk, her hand reaching for the phone. "Miss Jones, please have the footage of this building, inside and out, transferred to a secure terminal. I want two analysts to go through the footage. Start with the day before Christmas, until this morning." She listened, answering quietly, "Anything that can explain why Mr. Deeks' desk has suddenly grown a nameplate." Hanging up, she held out her hand. "May I?"
Deeks handed her the plate, Hetty examining it quietly, turning the dark stained wood in her small hands. "Beautiful craftsmanship I must say." Handing it back, she smiled at their liaison. "Someone really does like you Mr. Deeks, congratulations."
Hours later, with Kensi and Deeks on a lunch run, Sam stepped to Desks' desk, picking up the plaque. "Who would give Deeks something like this G? I mean, this is nice, a lot nicer than ours."
"We should find out when our techs finish with the tapes. Until then, your guess is as good as mine," Callen shrugged.
Sam grinned, a gleam in his eyes. "Oh, I'm gonna have fun with this." He rubbed his hands together, imagining the hell he would give Deeks.
"No, Sam, let this one alone." Callen's voice was soft, but steady.
"What! Oh Come on G…"
"I think that's the first time Deeks has gotten anything from someone he works with. You saw his face, he was really touched by that. I know we give him a hard time, probably more than we should, so this once, just let it go, and be happy for him. Give him this one Sam."
Sam stared at his partner, unsure if this was just Callen pulling his leg, or being serious Finally Sam gave his partner a slight nod.
After Kensi and Deeks returned, the pair loaded down with tacos, lunch was a fun time for the team. Nell and Eric joined then, exclaiming over the new name plate. Deeks was surprised, and grateful when no quips or digs were lobbed his way. After lunch, work resumed, the never-ending load of paperwork waiting for them.
The team began to pack up, the day coming to a close. Kensi invited Deeks over for a movie and takeout, Deeks agreeing eagerly. Before they could leave, Hetty caught them, a slightly confused look on her face.
"Hetty, has something happened?" Callen asked, hoping for a no.
"Yes, but nothing we can explain. Please follow me." She led them back to the bullpen, motioning for them to gather around the monitor sitting behind Deeks' desk. "Mr Beale, if you would."
The monitor popped to life, a view of the bullpen on screen. Everyone watched as the footage ran, the view showing a clear shot of…something that couldn't be explained. Deek's desk was empty, the name plate absent, then suddenly it was there. No one had been seen on the screen, it just simply appeared. The footage was run three times each with the same result. Other than the appearance of the plate, only the fact it appeared exactly when the clock struck midnight, the start of Christmas Day, could be verified. No one spoke, words failing to come. They looked at each other, then Hetty, begging for an answer.
"It would seem that Christmas miracles do happen," was her only answer.
Later, after the group had left, throughly stumped and not a little freaked out, the Mission was silent, the occasional pop or creak as the building settled. Slowly, the nameplate moved, straightening to show everyone who sat there. The Mission seemed to sigh, proud of its newest addition.