At 9:30 the next morning, Kensi and Sam were already at their desks, scarfing down a breakfast burrito and reading the newspaper respectively, when Deeks sauntered into the bullpen. "What a great day," he exclaimed flinging is fashionably messy blond locks out of his eyes. "Perfect waves. You missed it Kenz," he added as he attempted to steal a piece of Kensi's breakfast.
"I missed nothing," she retorted slapping his thieving hand away. "It's already like 96 degrees out there."
"So?" he asked puzzled as he dropped into his chair and gave it a little twirl to face her.
"So! Why would I want to be out in that heat surfing when I can be inside, with air conditioning, eating breakfast?"
"But it's surfing!" he replied like she was too dumb to get it. "Sur-fing."
Kensi snorted, rolled her eyes and took another bite out of her wrap.
"And," he countered, "The ocean is cool."
"And sticky, in case you haven't noticed though knowing your hygienic habits you probably haven't noticed."
Deeks ran a hand through his hair which did nothing but make him look more like Shaggy. "The water is sticky? Water is not sticky." Bounding from his chair to the edge of her desk and making another pass at her burrito he said, "Keep eating like I won't want to be seen at the beach with you."
"Right, like I would ever go to the beach with you," she retorted moving her food further from his grasp.
"Hey, I am one cool dude at the beach," he replied making another end-run-around for her burrito and getting his second slap of the morning.
Kensi took another spite bite, chewed, swallowed and said, "It is a fact, ocean water is sticky. When you come out of the ocean the sand sticks to you everywhere." She held up a hand to his face stop his imagination from injecting a lewd comment. "And then you have to take a shower to get rid of all that sand. And if you take that shower here, in Hetty's torture-timed showers which turn cold…"
"But I thought you were just complaining it was hot?"
Kensi held her hand up to Deek's face again. "…which turn cold too fast to do a proper job. Then I have to dry my hair with the blower because if I don't it will frizz unattractively and unlike you, I care about my appearance. By the time my hair is dried I'm hot and sweaty again. So remind me why would want to go surfing?"
"Don't answer that Deeks," Sam quickly interposed. "Simply sit down and shut up."
Kensi smirked and took another huge bite of her burrito. Talking around the food she added, "And I look a damn site hotter in a bathing suit then you could ever dream of not that you will ever see me."
Deeks moved back to his desk and sat down. "Just saying. Besides…"
"Didn't I just give you a direct order Deeks?" Sam growled. "Mr. LAPD liaison, who is JUNIOR to me on this team, let me repeated myself. Sit down. Shut up."
Further conversation was halted by their diminutive Boss gliding into the bullpen and commanding their attention. "Has anyone seen Mr. Callen? He has paperwork to attend to," she stated waving the offending sheets in the air. "Late!"
"Callen or the paperwork?" quipped Deeks.
"Both!" she replied. "Mr. Hanna, where is your absent partner?"
Sam folded the paper, noting the time. Hetty was right, G was late. "I don't know Hetty. Haven't talked to him since we left last night."
"Well did he have any errands to run this morning?"
"What am I, his mother? I don't know. He didn't say anything," Sam said, his words gruff but his tone indicating he was getting concerned.
"I guess we can wait a bit before calling out the Calvary," Hetty concluded. "But I want him in my office the minute he walks through that door."
"Sure Hetty. No problem. Callen always listens and does exactly what I tell him to," Marty interjected.
"I was talking to Mr. Hanna, Mr. Deeks. I am well aware of your ability to command people's attention."
Deeks winced, Sam smirked and Kensi added "Snap."
Hetty turned, started to walk away and then halted. "And, Mr. Deeks. Kensi is correct. As the seawater dries on one's skin, it leaves salt behind and together with normal perspiration, the result is stickiness."
"Thanks you Dr. Lange," he muttered.
"I heard that," Hetty sing-songed as she moved away. "Late," she added waving the papers in the air as she went back to her office.
Burrito forgotten, Kensi turned to Sam. "Do you think we should be worried about Callen?"
"We should always be worried about him," Sam retorted. "He can get into trouble in the middle of an empty room." Sam rose from his chair and headed for the stairs. "Maybe I'll just ask Eric to check G's GPS."
"Is that legal?" Deeks asked as he trailed Sam and Kensi up the stairs to the situation room. "Is the government really allowed to track employees who are late to work via spy technology?"
"It's not spy technology. Everyone has it on their phone," Eric, the techno geek, added entering into the conversation. "We just happen to have slightly more sophisticated tools than the average Joe or Josephine," he added grinning at the Nell." Punching a few keys, Eric frowned. "Well the GPS in his phone is…"
"At the same location as his car," Nell chimed in, "Here," she pointed out bringing a map up on the big plasma. "Looks like it is in a parking lot near the jogging trail by Venice Beach."
"Can you bring it up via satellite?" asked Deeks.
"Absolutely not, Mr. Deeks. Satellites usages fees are astronomically expensive. It would seem our Mr. Callen is simply out for a run. Maybe he is finally trying out his new sneakers," floated the voice of Hetty from the doorway
Sam grinned. Deeks and Kensi looked confused.
"No satellite. But, to be prudent, Sam will drive there to ensure that our Mr. Callen has not twisted an ankle or something. Ms. Blythe and Mr. Deeks attend to the paperwork on your desk. Sam to the beach. Now scoot!"
"Sam gets to go the beach?" Deeks groused. "I don't have any paperwork to fill out…but," Deeks hastily added after receiving the evil eye from Hetty, "I'm sure I could find some."
"And, Mr. Hanna. Tell your partner no dilly-dallying and no side trips for breakfast."
"Yes Hetty," Sam grinned as they all headed out of Ops on their respective missions.