Hello my lovelies. I would like to thank Beepmybanana, Guest, heyjode, Please (Guest), anonkp and amywegner16 for the wonderful reviews. I would also like to thank those of you who have followed and favoured since my last update.
I just wanted to say I don't know if American food safety rules are the same as those in the UK but I have based this chapter on the knowledge I have from running kitchens in the UK. I hope it works. Anyway here is the next chapter, I hope you like it.
Disclaimer: I don't own NCIS: LA, nor any of the lines I have taken from the show.
Callen work to an empty sunlight room. Turning to grab his phone he saw he'd been asleep for almost five hours. He knew he probably should try and get some more, but he never was one for sleeping for long periods of time. Instead he pulled himself up so he was sitting on the bed, wondering what to do now. He knew Deeks would be working the lunchtime shift behind the bar right then, just as he knew he could go down and join him, keep him company when he had no customers to serve. But Callen didn't really want to do that. That was when he eyes rested on the box of photos that were now sat on the side of Deeks' kitchenette. Climbing up he grabbed the box and returned to the bed, and opened it. The last time he'd gone through these photos it had been with Kensi and Detective Thomas while they were looking for clues as to who had the man he'd thought could be his father.
He hadn't really had a chance to properly look at them. Not then. But now he did.
With that thought he carefully took the lid off the box, but rather than reaching for the different bundles of photos it contained he just stared at them. This was his childhood. Memories captured forever, the good and the bad. With a sense of awe at the treasure that was now his, he reached in and took out the first pile, gently shifting through the photos, shifting through the goldmine he had in his hand.
The memories came with the images, but as he moved through the bundle he couldn't stop the frown forming on his face. There was no order to the pictures or memories, and it was playing with his mind. As such pulling himself out of the past the was reflected in each image he set about organising them in a way that would make the memories clearer, make the timeline of his childhood coalesce in his mind in the way it should, and not with random jumps between the years.
Deeks finished his shift, but rather than return straight to his room and Callen, he took Monty out for a quick walk. After all the dog had missed the one they had planned for that morning what with finding Callen on the beach. As such they both needed the exercise in Deeks' mind. He went up the cliff he'd planned to explore that morning and was glad to find that he was right, it wasn't as steep as the other. Once he gained the top he stopped to stare out at the ocean that swelled below him, taking in the beauty of its untamed nature and the call he could hear on the wind. Nothing could ever be as good as the feel he got from seeing it. This, right here, was prefect, and Deeks was so glad he'd found it. And by it he did not just mean the physical place he was standing. No he had found so much since arriving here. He had found a part of himself he hadn't known he'd had, and he found a peace he'd never known he was searching for. Here, now, he'd found the Deeks he wanted to be and that was something he never wanted to lose. Something he would fight with every part of his being to hold on to tight. He was never going to lose himself again.
Turning from the ocean he moved on, with the aim of walking along the cliff for a couple of miles before heading back. But before he got as far as he'd like he started to see evidence that he was not alone in landscape as he wished he could be. Because there up ahead of him was the local town. He hadn't realised it was so close, but then he hadn't actually ventured into it yet. Frank and Henry always got him anything he needed when they went in. Looking at it nestled around the mouth of a river it looked rather picturesque. An idyllic haven for those that wanted more society than the cove the bar inhabited offered. But he wasn't ready for that. One day he would venture down there, go and have a look at place, but not now. No now he would return to the cover he knew and loved. Go back to pretending there was no one but those that were there. Go back to G.
With that thought he turned and started a gentle jog back home.
Callen had just finished piling all the photos by year, some of which he'd had to get off the back as he couldn't remember exactly when he was in certain homes, especially the ones he was only in for a couple of days. But now they were ranged around him. A small pile of photos for every year between the age of three and eighteen. There were less after that, a couple from college, before nothing until the photo that was taken while he visited his sister's grave. But then he hadn't expected anything different. He'd never had a career that was conducive to someone secretly following his movements and taking picture after all. With that he sat back and looked at the evidence he now had of his childhood, looked at the memories he now had. Memories that he could now share. It was at that moment the door opened and Deeks entered, carrying two plates of sandwiches Henry had shoved into his hand as he'd walked past the kitchen.
"Whoa." Deeks said when he saw all the photos on the bed arranged in a semi-circle around Callen who sat in the middle.
"Hey." Callen responded looking up with a smirk, enjoying the surprised look on Deeks' face before continuing. "These are all the photos Reinhardt took while he was watching over me for my father." he explained.
"Wow. That's a lot of photos." Deeks replied putting down the food and moving towards the piles and moving to pick up the one nearest to him, though he did hesitate and look at Callen before doing so. He wanted to make sure it was okay for him to touch these priceless items of Callen's past. When he received a small nod from the older man his hand continued its journey and picked up the photo. "When was this one taken?" He asked as he looked at the picture in his hand of a child G in baseball gear.
"1980." Callen answered, before feeling the need to expand on his answer. He wanted to share with someone his memories, therefore he continued. "I was 10 years old. Bakersfield. That was the McPhersons, they had a trucking company and they were my tenth foster house. I was only there for a few weeks, but I actually liked her. I used to help her with her gardening."
"What about him?" Deeks asked when Callen didn't say anything else.
"Not so much. Used to beat me with a broom handle. Or he did until one day I took it out of his hand and broke it over his head." Callen replied simply.
"He got what he deserved then." Deeks responded with a nod. He knew all about needing to defend yourself against an abusive father, he'd shot his own to save himself and his mom after all.
"They moved me after that." Callen continued nonchalantly.
And Deeks hearing that wished that it hadn't taken Callen having to take his own defence into his own hands for him to be moved. He should never have been there in the first place. But he also knew that back then abuse happened more often than anyone wanted to think about for children in care. Therefore rather than saying any of the things on his mind he carefully climbed onto the bed and picked up a photo from a different pile and asked Callen about that one instead.
And that was how they spent the next few hours, Deeks choosing random photos, allowing Callen to share the memories he had of the people who had been in his life at that time. Share stories from his childhood that he had forgotten until confronted with a visual reminder. Some were happy or funny, but others were sad or down right disturbing. But not once did Deeks stop the other man from speaking. He knew Callen needed to do this, just as he'd needed to talk through his torture. Oh he knew that the two situations were nothing alike, expect for the fact they had both been repressing the memories. As such he knew it was now Callen's time to find the catharsis from sharing all that he has kept locked away for years. It was time for him to learn how his past had shaped who he was. Time to remember his history.
Later, when it was time for Deeks' second shift to being for the evening rush, both men made their way down to the bar. But when they got to the door that led to the bar Callen stopped.
"You coming in?" Deeks asked when he noticed the other man was no longer following him.
"I was thinking of seeing if Henry wanted a hand in the kitchen." Callen responded. He really didn't want to sit at the end of the bar that evening. Not when the only thing he would have to occupy himself is the memories he had been going through with Deeks. No what he really needed right then was something to do. Something to take his mind off of what they had talked all afternoon about. He needed time to sort through the emotions that had been raised, and deal with the other memories that were pressing in on his mind, by allowing his mind to think of other things. He needed to process.
"Okay. I'll see you in a bit then." Deeks replied understanding completely what Callen wasn't saying, though he did have to wonder how long it would take before Henry kicked Callen out. He hadn't survived half an hour in the kitchen with the chef, and he knew how to cook. He didn't see it going well with Henry and Callen. But hey, that was for the other man to discover for himself. It was that thought that caused the smirk to appear on his face as he made his way into the bar.
"Just what's that look for?" Frank asked seeing Deeks come in, but also taking notice of the lack of Callen following him.
"Callen's gone to offer his assistance to Henry. I was just wondering how long he would last. I give it 15 minutes, 30 tops." Deeks replied moving behind the bar with the other man, starting his jobs without thought.
"I don't know, I think he'll be able to hack it. I mean Henrys got a soft spot for him, so, that'll help." Frank replied with a smirk of his own, though his was more because he knew his husband would do everything he could to keep the other man with him in the kitchen. They had discussed Callen while Deeks was with him that afternoon. Had discussed how to help him through whatever it was that had caused him to arrive on their doorstep with red rimmed eyes. They had both agreed Henry would be the better one of the two to help him, if for no other reason than Frank would be in the restaurant that evening with Deeks behind the bar, not to mention the questions customers would throw at Callen if he was working in the bar. At least in the kitchen Henry was the only one Callen would have to deal with, and Frank knew his husband would not press the other man for any information. No in fact Frank was pretty sure it would be the complete opposite. He hoped Henry would be able to help Callen ease whatever was on his mind, if only for a little while. And Frank knew the man he loved, he was able to read people. Not the same way Frank did, but more, be able to understand there emotional state and give them what they needed. Not to mention how he had ways to make people do what he wanted. So no, he really didn't expect to see their guest until the end of the night.
"Want to bet?" Deeks responded unaware of the thoughts going through Franks mind. All he could think of was the fact that as far as he knew Callen had never really cooked anything in his life, and he was now in a professional kitchen with none other than Henry. The man who got pissed at even his husband when he tried to help him. Yeah, he couldn't see it lasting.
"Sure, 20 bucks." Frank answered without hesitation.
"You're on, old man." Deeks agreed. And as they shook on the bet they both had gleeful grins on their faces, sure they were in the right and the other was going to lose, badly.
Callen enter the kitchen and was suddenly surrounded by the delicious smells coming from the pots and pans that were bubbling away on the stove. He couldn't tell you what any of it was, but it smelt good. And knowing Henry's cooking, he knew it would taste even better.
"Henry?" He called to the man who had his back to him.
"Callen. Finally decided to join me have you?" Henry responded with a smirk as he turned, putting down the knife he had and wiping his hands on the cloth tucked into his apron strings.
"If you want me to." Callen replied with a shrug.
At that Henry nodded before moving towards the store cupboard at the back of the kitchen where the clean linen was kept. Coming out he had in his hand a set of chef whites. "These should fit you. Go change then come back." He announced handing them over the rather startled man. Callen had not realised he would have to wear different clothes to work in the kitchen. He was pretty sure only chefs wore these, and he certainly wasn't one of them. "Can't have you contaminating the food wearing your outdoor clothes. Go." Henry continued when Callen just stood there holding the clothing he'd handed him, making shooing motions with his hand as he did so.
And Callen, well he did the only thing he could do, he went to get changed. Once he returned he found himself being given and a fast, yet in-depth introduction into food safety and hygiene, the dos and don'ts of working in a kitchen, or more specifically Henry's kitchen. It was a good thing he spent his life learning information quickly so he could maintain a cover, otherwise he was pretty sure he would have been lost after the second sentence. But he managed to keep up, just.
It was watching Henry as he went over it all that was the real eye-opener though, because this was a side of the man he had never seen before. This was his domain, his to control and in this kitchen his will was law. He barked things out in a way similar to that of a military training officer, and god forbid anyone who forgot anything he was saying. It made something inside Callen respond automatically, and eased the remaining tension that held him in its grip. Because here he was not in charge, here he did not have to think. No, here he just had to do as he was told. Here, in this kitchen if Henry told him to jump, he was expected to ask how high.
Now sure he'd had many jobs over his life time where that was true. But this was the first time in his life Callen didn't want to question any of the orders he was given. Because here, for the first time in so very long he was doing a job he knew absolutely nothing about. He'd done no prep on it, had no cover to maintain or skill set to lean back on. And it was the most refreshing experience he'd had in a very long time.
It was not half an hour after returning to the kitchen that Callen was chopping the carrot batons that were to be a side dish on offer that evening. Henry had told him they had to all be the same, had shown him how he wanted them, and then left him to it. Callen had never realised how difficult it was the cut carrot batons all the same before now, but damn, it was hard. It took his complete concentration and the application of every skill he had ever learnt with a knife, well almost all of them, the throwing of them with deadly accuracy really wasn't that useful for this, though he was considering otherwise when his knife slipped once more and the baton widened. But no, he would not fail. He could cut damn carrots.
Henry for his part watched Callen out of the corner of his eye, smiling happily when he saw how seriously he was taking the task he had given him. He hadn't been sure of how this would work out, no matter how much he and Frank had both agreed it was a good idea. He did not like sharing his kitchen with many people. Oh he'd had trainees and other staff before, but they had all been trained to do as he ordered, and they all understood exactly what he required of them. This was the first time he'd had a complete novice sharing his space and he was surprised at how well it was working. He'd known Callen wasn't stupid, but he'd been impressed with how quickly he'd learnt all the information that he'd thrown at him throughout the last half an hour. He had cottoned a lot quicker than Henry had expected him to, and when he'd asked him to get a chopping board for the carrots, Callen hadn't even hesitated in picking up the correctly coloured one. Yes, the federal agent had so far impressed him greatly, and he suddenly understood just why he was so good at his job. If he could impress him in half an hour in his kitchen with no previous knowledge of the job, he could only imagine how formidable Callen would be when given a background on the new career and situations he infiltrated.
Moving towards his new helper Henry stood just behind him, looking over his shoulder to see how he was doing. He was impressed with the uniform sizes Callen had managed to get. "Very good. We'll move on to the potatoes next." He said without warning, though unlike the others he'd had in his kitchen Callen did not jump at the sound of his voice. But then he was pretty sure that Callen had known exactly where he was in the kitchen even while he'd had his back to him, Deeks had been the same when he first started after all. Their awareness of all going on around them was something Henry knew he would never understand, but then he didn't have to.
"Sounds good." Callen responded smiling at him over his shoulder before turning back to his cutting, enjoying the warmth the praise Henry had given him had created. This was something he'd never done before, cooking. It was something he believed he would never be able to do, but it seemed Henry thought differently. And okay sure all he was doing was cutting up vegetables, but hey, everyone had to start somewhere right?
With that the two settled into a working routine, with Henry showing Callen what he wanted him to do and then leaving him to it, confident it would be done to his exacting standards. And Callen, well he threw himself completely into every task he was given, using every ounce of his mind to learn the skills he needed to complete them correctly. It was exactly what he needed to stop the thoughts that had been pressing in on him after the conversation he'd had with Deeks. And if he also found himself enjoying creating the dishes for the customers, well that was an added bonus in his mind.