Chapter 19

Carla rolled a wheelchair up and stopped in front of Deeks. "I can walk," he said.

Carla gave him the look she undoubtedly used when her grandkids were bad or pleaded for extra cookies. "You know the drill, Marty. Hospital policy."

"Deeks, sit your butt down," said Kensi and pointed to the chair. "Don't be one of those cantankerous patients."

Deeks rolled his eyes. "Fine. Wouldn't want cantankerous going in my chart. That might spoil my stellar reputation."

Kensi sighed and shook her head. "Just for that, you can hold this." She dropped her purse in his lap.

"Really? Do I have to?" he whined. "And what's in this thing? A bowling ball? You barely missed the family jewels."

"Carla, thanks for taking care of my knucklehead partner. You see what I deal with every day. But I'll keep an eye on him, as long as he doesn't whine too much."

Carla laughed. "I know you will, sweetie."

On the drive home Kensi could feel Deeks watching her. At a red light she turned toward him. "What?"

"Are those my clothes?" he asked.

Her hoodie was partly unzipped and the LAPD tee shirt was clearly visible.

"Used to be," she answered with a shrug.

Deeks tried not to grin. "I'm down with that."

Deeks' Apartment

Deeks yawned and sat down in the middle of the couch. "I'm beat. I was up half the night guzzling water." He adjusted a throw pillow behind his head and closed his eyes.

"Other than that, are you good?" asked Kensi.

"I'm good. What about you?"

"Also good." She paused. "Okay, guess I'll go to work. That paperwork won't complete itself. I'll check with you later."

"Sounds good," said Deeks without opening his eyes. "And Kensi?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you."

"No problem. That's what partners do, right?"

"Yeah, the ones worth keeping."

She was at the front door, but gave him one final assessment. "Why don't you go get in your bed? Your neck will be sore at that angle and then you'll whine even more."

Without opening his eyes Deeks quipped, "Are you going to join me?"

Kensi snorted. "Goodbye, Deeks."

The Mission

"I left Deeks on his couch. He had pain meds so he's kinda worthless the rest of the day," said Kensi. She pointed at Sam. "Don't you dare make a snarky remark."

Sam raised his hands. "I was only going to say I totally sympathize with him and I'm glad he's okay."

"Arkady's housekeeper called earlier," said Callen. "He's back from Moscow or wherever he really was. How about we go shake him down?"

"Let's do it," said Sam. "I always enjoy a good shakedown."

"Have fun," said Kensi as she shuffled papers around. "I have to finish this stuff before Hetty slaps a demerit on me."

"Everybody gets to have some fun," said Sam with a laugh.

The guys left and Kensi sat there thinking about Deeks. Should I call him? No, I'm sure he's fine. He'll probably fall asleep. I'll go back tonight.

Suddenly, she felt hungry. She remembered she had half a sandwich in the refrigerator. She got up to retrieve it and opened a bottle of water. She stood in the small kitchen eating and drinking. From this vantage point, she saw Hetty walk by in conversation with some unknown, petite woman. Kensi shrugged and tossed the sandwich wrapper in the trash.

Then she settled down to do the onerous paperwork. When she finished, she felt quite proud of herself. She was packing up to leave when Callen called.

"You wouldn't believe where we had to go to talk to Arkady."

"That Russian bakery on Hermosa?"

"I wish," said Callen. "That Russian bathhouse on the next street over where he hangs out with his cronies. Said he had to wash away the grime of international travel."

Kensi laughed. "Did he offer anything useful?"

Sam was talking now. "As usual, he talked a lot, but didn't say anything."

"Are you going to touch base with Deeks?" asked Callen.

"Headed out right now," said Kensi. She disconnected and slipped into her jacket as Hetty walked over.

"How is Mr. Deeks?"

"He had a rough night, but should be back tomorrow," said Kensi. "I'm going to check on him now."

"Very good. Give him my regards. I, too, have tangled with a kidney stone."

"Will do."

Kensi hurried out and Hetty returned to her desk. Now for a little surprise. She picked up her phone and called Ops. "Mr. Beale, could you spare a moment?"

"Uh, sure thing." He laid his tablet aside and sprinted down the stairs. He stood quietly in front of Hetty's desk as she perused a file.

What's this about? Did she find that bag of chips in my bottom drawer? I thought I had it hidden pretty well.

She looked up, smiled and waved a hand. "Do have a seat, Mr. Beale."

She's smiling. That's good. She wouldn't smile if I was in trouble, would she?

He couldn't stand it any longer. "Is . . . is there a problem, Hetty?"

"No problem whatsoever. Your performance is outstanding, so you don't need to worry about that. However, as you know, our workload is increasing. As proficient and dedicated as you are, you can't be here twenty-four hours a day. To that end, we have a new team member joining us tomorrow."

"New team member?" Eric wasn't sure how he felt about that. Ops was his domain. Sure, he was busy. But he didn't have time to coddle some interloper.

"Have you told the others?"

"Not yet. You will be working the closest with this person, so I decided to inform you first." Hetty slid a piece of paper toward him. "This is her résumé."

Eric's eyes grew wide. "Her?"

"Nell Jones, Intelligence Analyst. She is eminently qualified and will be an asset to Mr. Callen's team. Look for her at 9 a.m."

"Wow. Okay. This is not what I was expecting," he stammered. He grasped the paper and stared at the head shot attached to it. An attractive, young woman with short, reddish-brown hair. He was intrigued in spite of himself. But I can't let some pretty face distract me. We have important work to do here.

"What were you expecting? Perhaps a reprimand for this?" Hetty reached into her middle drawer and pulled out a bag of BBQ chips. "I suggest you wait until you leave the building before opening this."

Eric swallowed nervously. "Understood."

"Personally, I prefer the salt-and-vinegar ones."

Deeks' Apartment

The TV was on and Deeks was lounging on his couch. He had begun the evening watching a surfing competition, but must have dozed off. Suddenly, his head snapped up. Now some grey-haired historian in a sweater vest was droning on about the six wives of Henry VIII. Deeks listened for a moment.

"Dude had five wives too many, in my opinion," he said to Monty. "No guy needs that many wives. I only need one good woman."

Monty gave a small whine. Whatever, big guy. Is Kensi coming back anytime soon? Suddenly, the retired police dog's ears pricked up. He left his place beside the couch and went to the front door.

"What is it, Monty? You hear a boogeyman?"

Deeks' cell phone buzzed and he was startled. "Whoa." He reached for it, but it fell off the coffee table. When he finally got hold of it, he saw the picture he'd taken of Kensi sleeping on her couch. A smile spread on his face.

"Kensi, what's shaking?"

"Open the door."

"What?"

"Front door! I'm almost there and my hands are full."

"Full? Full of what?"

"Deeks!" she said in exasperation.

"Okay, sure." He nodded at Monty. "Ask and ye shall receive. One good woman coming up."

He grunted as he eased himself to his feet and shuffled to the door. Monty began jumping around. "Woof, woof!"

Kensi burst through the door and a wonderful aroma accompanied her. She was balancing a large pizza box, a bakery box, grocery bag, purse and flowered tote bag.

"Is that our favorite pizza?"

"You know it. And chocolate chip cookies and plenty of bottled water. I don't want a repeat of last night. I want you well-hydrated."

"Copy that. Let me help you."

They were almost through eating when Monty went to the back door. "Time for your last tinkle, eh buddy?" While Deeks and Monty were out, the doorbell rang.

Who could this be?

"Hey, Deeks. You in there, man?" called a male voice.

To be on the safe side, Kensi retrieved her weapon from the end table. She held it slightly behind her back as she opened the door a crack. A tall, dark-haired guy in tee shirt and gym shorts stood there. He broke into a smile when he saw her.

"So, you're Kensi. Deeks may have mentioned you a time or two . . . or a hundred."

Kensi eyebrows lifted in surprise. "That would be me. And you are . . . ?"

"Rocco Santorini. Like the island." He stuck out his hand. Kensi jammed her weapon in the back of her waistband.

Rocco took a step back. "Whoa. The lady is lethal."

She shook his hand. "Like the island then. Come in," she said and opened the door further. "Deeks just took Monty out."

"He texted me about his visit to the E.R. I wanted to make sure he was okay, but I see he's in good, safe hands." He looked Kensi over from head to toe. "You're tall. You could take his place in our game."

"I'll give it some thought," said Kensi.

"Hey, don't be trying to poach my partner," called Deeks as he closed the kitchen door.

Rocco laughed. "I see you survived. Maybe you can make it next week."

"Count on it."

"There's some pizza left if you're hungry," said Kensi.

"No, thanks. I wouldn't want to be a third wheel here. Nice meeting you, Kensi."

"Likewise."

"I can let myself out," said Rocco. But Deeks followed him out to his SUV.

Rocco had a big grin on his face. "That's your new partner? Deeks, do not let her get away. She is hotness personified."

"And if she didn't like you saying that, you'd be face down right here in two seconds with your hands in cuffs," laughed Deeks. "I've seen it happen."

"Don't worry. I'm not here to steal your woman. Congratulations, man."

Deeks nodded. "I am a lucky guy. I didn't even have to go looking for her."