DISCLAIMER: Not mine.

Chapter Two: "The Strong Ones"
Mid-"War Cries"

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"The women are the strong ones, truly." - George R.R. Martin, A Feast for Crows

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UCLA Medical Center
Emergency Room

Deeks was seeing how far he could tilt his molded plastic chair back before falling on his ass in the small ER cubicle. Nell had the thousand mile stare going as she sat perfectly straight and perfectly still on the examining table. They were waiting for the plastic surgeon to stitch up the cut just under her eyebrow. Nell said she was fine with the regular ER doctor closing the cut but Deeks pushed for a plastic surgeon who worked on him in the hospital. So did the ER doctor, actually. Nell just wanted to be done - a feeling he understood from his own ER visits - but it was her face and it was a pretty great face.

Not a great face - Granger. He was on the cell phone just outside the ER.

When he saw a small shiver travel through Nell, Deeks stood and unzipped his hoodie. Nell started to object as he draped it over her shoulders but he simply told her it was cold in the ER - which is was - and he wanted to her be warm. Within a minute, she put her arms through the sleeves and zipped it up. Deeks decided the chair tipping game was a bad idea, so he just sat down and watched Nell.

"And what happened to you, Ms. Jones?" Dr. Lawrence asked as she breezed into the cubicle. She was a small woman, not much taller than Nell.

"She was attacked," Deeks answered.

"Detective," Dr. Lawrence was searching for his name. "I'm sorry, you're 15 stitches on the left cheekbone, two on the bridge of the nose and not a name."

"You remember that?" Deeks stood to shake the doctor's hand. "Deeks, Marty Deeks," he told her as he stood next to Nell.

"It was a memorable day in the ER, Detective Deeks."

Deeks looked down at Nell and intentionally made a funny face, "I made a scene."

"According to Dr. Garcia, once he saw the inside of your mouth, he understood your reluctance to let anyone go near you." Turning her attention to Nell, she asked, "Ms. Jones, if it is alright, I'd like to take a look at your eye."

"Okay," Nell looked up and tilted her head to give the doctor better access.

The doctor worked gently with Nell. Deeks didn't remember much about Dr. Lawrence's bedside manner, just that she said it wouldn't hurt too much. After his time with Sidorov, a little tugging and a pinch or two where the topical anesthesia didn't work as she stitched up his wounds did not compare to the day's other medical procedures - licensed or unlicensed.

"OK, Ms. Jones. I think you need a handful of stitches and I'll be happy to take care of that. Let me wash up. Detective, are you staying with Ms. Jones?"

"Nell, you want me to stay?"

He watched her take a deep breath and a little more of the old Nell returned. "I'm OK. I'll be fine."

"Tell the doctor if you miss me," Deeks teased as he left with the doctor. As soon as the doctor closed the cubicle curtain, Deeks said, "Dr. Lawrence, if she gets tense or upset…"

"I'll have a nurse get you right away," the doctor said as she pushed Deeks's head up a little. "Are you using the cream on the scar as I told you to because it looks good."

"Every morning after I shower, every night before I go to bed and usually once or twice during the day."

"Good. Sunscreen is important too. Glad to see you in a better place than you were that afternoon, Detective, and that you're taking care of yourself."

"Thank you Doctor but don't worry about me, take care of Nell," Deeks told her before joining a still on his cellphone Granger in the waiting area.

"How's Nell?" Granger asked as he ended his phone call.

"Getting there. The plastic surgeon is with her now," Deeks told him. "Where's Brown?"

"Callen and Sam just left him with several LAPD homicide detectives at the ER in Cedar's. A detective named Vessey…"

"Versey."

"That's it, Versey. He needs you to give him a call. They plan on moving Brown to the County Jail hospital once he's stable. You'll be credited with the arrest since the DoD wants no part of Brown. You'll have some paperwork to do when we get back to the office," Granger said just as his cellphone rang. "Excuse me, I'll be right back," Granger took the call as he walked away.

Pulling out his phone, Deeks made dialed the number he wanted to call since he told Nell he'd take her to the hospital. Granger's surprise presence in the SUV delayed the call.

"Deeks?" Eric didn't even let the first full ring happen.

"No, I'm Deeks. You're Eric," he hoped that his answer would lighten the mood.

"How is she?" Eric was not having his mood lightened.

"The doctor is with her now. She's going to have a couple of stitches over her eye. She's got a sore neck. She's a major badass, Eric. She did us all proud."

"I saw the video."

"Do yourself a favor," Deeks told him from experience, "don't watch it again. Forget you saw it." Park security video of Kensi being shot while meeting with Alex Harris played like Law and Order reruns in the back of his mind for months after Peter Clairmont shuffled off this mortal coil.

"You going to bring her back here when you're done?"

"No Eric, I thought Nell, Granger and I would maybe take a side trip to Santa Anita and catch the eighth race. I know a guy who knows a horse. Of course we're coming back unless the doctor says otherwise."

"If she goes home…"

"…I'll call you. Otherwise, figure we're on our way. Granger's coming, I'll send you a text when we're leaving." Deeks saw Granger walking down the hall with a cup of coffee.

"Just a head's up, Granger had questions for Nell and me about Kensi."

"Had some for me too. Something's up. We'll talk later."

Deeks saw Granger returning with a cup of coffee. He ended the call just as Granger sat next to him. "Did you bring enough for everyone in class?"

"Excuse me?"

"I'd have asked you if you wanted some coffee if I was walking down the hall."

"Don't let me stop you from walking down the hall and getting it out of the vending machine yourself. It's perfectly dreadful."

"No, I'll wait for Nell. Wouldn't want her to come out and think I left," Deeks closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the wall. This was a long day.

"Where's your jacket?" Granger asked after a while.

Without opening his eyes, Deeks told him, "Nell was cold."

"What are you putting in your report to LAPD?"

"Leaving out the fact that Nell was cold, NCIS Intelligence Analyst Nell Jones was in a life and death struggle with Robert Brown, former military intelligence officer, former defense contractor and current murder suspect. She held him off and then some until backup arrived. I'll send LAPD the video from the interrogation room with the NCIS undercover personnel faces pixelated out. Brown will be charged with the deaths of the prostitutes. Nell's assault will be thrown into whatever deal he cuts."

"I was on the phone earlier with a colleague at DoD. The AUSA spoke to Brown's lawyer already. Brown is willing to plead to life, no parole and a segregated cell at Pelican Bay for a complete rundown on D7."

"Which no longer exists."

"If we can trace the principals from D7 to other defense contractors, we can open investigations there. D7 has likely just rebranded and continued their previous business practices."

"Just short one murderous psycho."

"Will your report include the interrogation of Williams?"

"You mean the fun part where you blew off part of his ear? And by fun I mean acted completely out of line and illegally."

"It was effective."

"It was abusive," Deeks opened his eyes and looked at the Assistant Director. "We're the good guys, remember? I'm an actual officer of the court."

"You three hold Williams's hand and let him lawyer up, Nell's likely dead in the boat shed. She's alive, Brown's arrested and cooperating with other investigations. Williams won't say a word - he was in that house illegally. The murderous psycho, your words, is in jail. That makes us the good guys."

"Glad that helps you sleep at night," Deeks told him though his heart wasn't completely in it.

They sat quietly for a few minutes. "So you're not in contact with Blye," Granger said.

Deeks remembered the satellite phone strapped to his left ankle. "Agent Blye."

"Excuse me?"

"You were all hot and bothered before when I didn't address you by your title, even though I'm not in your chain of command. If you want the respect of those around you, especially those who don't report to you, maybe offering it occasionally would help."

"Detective. Liaison Officer. Public Defender. Officer of the Court. Trying to add Chief of Protocol to the resume?"

"Is there a stipend involved?"

"And for the record, I was neither hot or bothered."

"If you say so."

"So, Detective," Granger's emphasis on his title, Deeks felt, lacked a certain amount of respect, "have you been in contact with Agent Blye?"

"Since she has been out of the country on an extended classified assignment since mid-November, with you by the way, it isn't like I've dropped in for dinner or she's had a long weekend back here."

"So no contact."

Deeks decided to take a chance since this was easy enough for Granger to check. "I missed her on the video conference call because you had her in the field last month and she missed me a few hours later because I was picking up an informant. I sent her a picture of an undercover look I used for the case, she sent me a photo of her in the fine Afghanistan air." The best lies have a little bit of truth.

The ER door opened and Dr. Lawrence walked out. "Ms. Jones should be out in a minute. She did very well."

"Thank you, Doctor," both men said in unison as the doctor made her way past them and down the hall.

"Do you know why she's over there?" Granger asked.

"You and Hetty sent her," Deeks stood and started to stretch. This was getting interesting.

"Why do you think Hetty assigned Agent Blye?"

"Same reason you fed her the breadcrumbs about her father's death."

Granger stood and lifted an eyebrow. Deeks guessed that was supposed to be intimidating. "Explain."

"Look, I've already told LAPD if anything happens to me, anything permanent, I want Kensi running the investigation. She's smart and she's determined. Everybody on this team has major skills. She has the most. I have nothing but respect for all of the people on Hetty's team but Kensi is the one I want finding my killer."

"You really believe that," Granger eyed Deeks head to toe.

"You do. Someone was killing members of Don Blye's team and you were part of that team. NCIS, the CIA, members of his squad - they all bought the cover up. One person didn't. And when the dead bodies started piling up, you fed Kensi information about her father's murder. She saved your ass. So if anything happens to me, I want her because Kensi is the best."

"She certainly is," Nell joined on the conversation, looking a lot like herself. The bandage and stitches near her eyebrow hurt Deeks's heart, however. "Kensi taught me to keep going at an aggressor in a fight. To not assume you have the upper hand no matter how much you think you've injured the aggressor with the first strike. It is dangerous to assume they're incapacitated. You keep going until the aggressor is down or disarmed. And Kensi knows her knives."

Deeks smiled, with Kensi's knife snug in the boot with the satellite phone. He could hear Kensi giving that instruction to a rapt Nell in their post-Kill House sparring matches as he played the 'soon to be killed by Kensi Blye' aggressor. God, he missed her. "Do you want to go back to the office or do you want us to take…"

"Back to the office," Nell cut Deeks off before he could even offer a ride home. "I still have work to do, people depending on me."

"Yes you do. We all do." Deeks noticed Nell made a little face after her last statement. Something else for him to follow up. Never a dull day with NCIS. Deeks told her as they started to the exit. "And if anyone asks you about the eye, tell 'em what happened to the other guy."

"Will do Detective."

-30-

Chapter 3 of "Every Day I Write the Book" is at 7,000 words and about half done. I needed a break.