Chapter 12

"Justin did fine his first semester in college, then his father died suddenly of a heart attack. After that, everything started unraveling. His grades dropped, he fell in with a bad crowd and started drinking and gambling. He was arrested several times and it was clear he was addicted. His mother was at her wit's end. Finally, we convinced her to get him into rehab. That's where we thought he was."

The crowd had been cleared out and Mr. Beckwith was sitting in his office with Callen and Sam. "I realize it happens in a lot of families so it's really old news."

"He signed himself out five days ago," said Callen.

"The gun he had tonight was not loaded. I think he only wanted to scare you," said Sam.

Mr. Beckwith sighed and ran a hand over his face. "Poor Carolyn. She'll be devastated. And what about the other man. Who is he?"

"Chad Thompson. He was a real estate agent until he was injured in a motorcycle accident and got hooked on opiods. He was in the same rehab facility as your grandson. Apparently, he befriended Justin and between the two of them they hatched the plan to rob you and the museum," said Callen.

"What will happen to Justin now?"

"He's facing several charges, so it's up to the district attorney," said Sam.

In the new wing, EMTs were loading Obama, aka Chad Thompson, onto a stretcher for transport to the hospital.

"You might want to get one of those rubber donuts," said Deeks. "It'll come in handy for the next month or so."

Chad lifted his middle finger in response as the female EMT secured the straps across his body. She looked at Deeks and Kensi and shook her head as she tried not to giggle.

"Good talking to you, Chad. We'll be in touch," continued Deeks. The male EMT was attempting to start an IV, but Chad was not cooperating and unleased a string of profanities.

"Wow. So glad we've handed him off to someone else for a while," said Kensi as Chad was hauled away.

"You got that right." Deeks paused as something occurred to him. He pointed at Kensi. "Exactly where did you have your weapon stashed? It's way too big for that itty-bitty purse."

"That, my friend, is confidential NCIS agent info."

Deeks narrowed his eyes and studied her. "I sense a challenge. Is that a challenge?"

"Maybe when Callen acquires real furniture I'll tell you."

Deeks was clearly baffled. "When Callen acquires . . . I feel I'm missing something here, but I'm terrified to ask."

With a little smirk Kensi said, "Like you told me that day in the armory, give it time, you'll get it."

"Well played," Deeks nodded.

Kensi looked around at all the spectacular items in the new wing. "One day when I have free time, I want to come back and check out all this stuff."

Deeks was studying a statue of Cleopatra and Marc Antony. "Hey, if we ever go to a costume party, we can go as these two. You and Cleo both have the long, dark hair."

"I could see myself as Cleo, but I was thinking of you being the servant boy who fetches me some grapes."

Deeks put a hand to his heart. "Oh, that's cruel."

"Come on, let's get out of here. My feet are killing me," said Kensi.

As they turned the corner, Deeks spied a tray of mostly empty champagne flutes that the caterers had missed. As luck would have it, there were two filled ones left on it. He looked at Kensi. "What do you think? A toast to our first undercover op as partners and a successful one at that?"

Kensi shrugged. "Why not? It would be a shame to let that go to waste."

They clinked glasses and savored the moment. "To future adventures," said Kensi, although she couldn't have said why that popped out of her mouth at that moment. Something tells me tell there are many adventures ahead with Deeks.

"I guess we have to get back to the Mission and return these spiffy outfits," said Deeks as he looked down at his jacket.

"Actually, when we're out late like this, Hetty is okay with us returning them the next day."

"Okay, but I still have to take you back to your car." For once, Deeks had persuaded Kensi to let him drive. In his mind, he pretended it was a real date, but never in a thousand years would he admit that to her.

When they got back to the Mission, Kensi got out and immediately spotted something wrong. "Dammit."

"What?"

She squatted down as much as her skin-tight dress would allow beside the driver's side front tire. "I've got a stupid flat."

Deeks looked down. "Yep. I would agree that's flat. Don't worry about it. I'll take you home. We can change it in the morning."

"I could change it myself," she said.

"I'm sure you could, but not in that dress," Deeks pointed out.

Suddenly, Kensi felt bone-tired. It had been a long day and her stilettos simply had to come off right now. She put a hand on the hood to steady herself as she slipped out of them. They returned to Deeks' car.

"Fine. Let's go."

Kensi leaned her head against the headrest and closed her eyes. "I should just call Uber."

Deeks laughed. "That would never work. You would make the driver slide over while you drove."

"Just go," she said in defeat.

As they approached Kensi's apartment building, they were greeted by the flashing lights of multiple police cruisers and yellow crime scene tape. Residents in bathrobes and pajamas huddled just outside the tape wondering what had happened.

"What's all this?" said Kensi.

Before they could take it all in, the coroner's van pulled in. "Ooh, this is not good," said Deeks. "Do you know who lives on that end?"

"No, I only know Mr. and Mrs. Adams and Mrs. Chang. But some new people moved in about six weeks ago. They appeared to be Russian or Eastern European."

"Are you going to flash your ID and try to breach the crime scene tape?" asked Deeks. "From past experience I can tell you it may be hours before they let folks back in their apartments."

"I don't know," she sighed in frustration.

Several seconds passed. "Just come home with me, Kensi." That earned him another sharp look. "I'm five minutes away."

"You are?"

"Yeah. It's a wonder we never bumped into each other at the grocery store. Oh wait, you don't cook so you wouldn't know what the inside of a grocery store looks like."

"I can cook. A little," she protested.

"Name one thing."

"Brownies."

"Anybody can do brownies from a box," said Deeks. "Look, it's after midnight, we're tired and we have to be back at work in a few hours. I'll take the couch and you can borrow some of my sweats in sleep in because I'm pretty sure Hetty doesn't want you trying to sleep in that dress."

Kensi was looking at him with a scowl. Deeks could practically see the gears turning in her head as she wrestled with the idea.

"I'm not trying to make a move on you," he said. "Well, maybe a little," he grinned.

Kensi hated to admit it, but when he looked at her like that she got a tingly feeling in the pit of her stomach.

"Plus, you can meet my roommate."

"You have a roommate?" I didn't picture him living with someone.

"But he won't be a problem. I'll even make pancakes in the morning. Maybe throw in some chocolate chips," he added as an incentive.

She stared at him for a moment and then came to a decision. "I accept your offer. But only for tonight."

Deeks nodded. "Deal. I had you at pancakes, didn't I?" Had he been able, he would pumped his fist in celebration. Fate had smiled on him tonight.

"Maybe."

"I will be a perfect gentleman," he said. "My only concern is whether or not you'll be a perfect lady."

She leaned over the console and punched his arm.