AN: Hey guys! This is the longest one shot yet, and Fern assures me that everything about it is in order, so I hope you enjoy. (She's kinda awesome, y'all. Just in case you didn't know.)

And also, just a reminder (though this doesn't apply to most of you). This is a oneshot series based on the sneak peeks that I see on YouTube. Sometimes inspiration strikes and I embellish (as I've done here), but others I just want to give a look into what's happening in their heads. So, that said, that's all this story will ever be :)

Thank you to all of you who reviewed with positive comments or constructive criticism. I respect you and thank you for taking that time :) Enjoy the peek into what I'd like to see in the real episode.

Blessings,

bookdiva

"I mean clearly somebody's home," Deeks said as I rang the doorbell.

I sighed at his slightly patronizing tone.

"Yeah."

"Musta had to score a lota touchdowns for those two," he said, smirking at the expensive cars in the basketball star's driveway.

"Did you just say… touchdowns?" I asked incredulously. After all, Deeks was nothing if not a basketball enthusiast. How could it be that he didn't know Kip Brigham?

"Huh," he responded, noncommittally, still smirking that smirk that was always followed by a rare occasion of him one-upping me.

"Cause he's a basketball player," I said, tilting my head to the side. "He led the league in scoring."

"Basketball, huh?" he said with that same damn smirk.

"Woooow," I said, drawing out the word in real confusion. "We watched him together, in case you don't remember."

Again, he just smirked knowingly.

"If you say so," he said, leaning up against the door frame nonchalantly. I shrugged off the uncomfortable feeling and adjusted my shirt and hair.

"Hey, just do me a favor," Deeks said, unexpectedly. I looked over at him. "Just don't embarrass me."

I shot him a confused look, but by then, some blonde, barely-clothed bimbo had opened the door.

"Oh, hi," Deeks said, turning his attention to her. I internally rolled my eyes, waiting his further reaction. He didn't disappoint me. "Hi. Hiiii."

I smirked. "We're Federal Agents," I began. "We're here to speak to Mr.—"

"Marty!" a voice called from inside the mansion. "Where you been, dude? I been calling you for weeks!" I turned to Deeks in surprised confusion, and his smug smirk just got wider. "Get in here, man!"

"I forgot to mention that we go… uh, way back," Deeks said, his smirk widening into that adorable grin that I'd never admit made me feel weak in the knees. Then he pushed himself off the door frame and strode into the huge mansion in a way that made it clear this wasn't the first time he'd been inside.

"Sup, buddy?" Deeks greeted the famous basketball star casually while I slowly followed him inside, processing this new information about my partner.

"Sup man!"

"How ya doin?"

"I'm good."

I watched as the two men embraced in a man-hug.

"Good to see you."

"Hi," I interjected, finally over my initial surprise. I couldn't help but ask the question that had been plaguing me since he'd called out to Deeks. "How do you guys know each other?"

"Marty Mar is the reason I got into basketball," Brigham said, smiling sincerely at Deeks.

Marty Mar? I repeated silently, unable to process this aspect of Deeks's life that I'd been completely unaware of before that moment.

I briefly wondered how—given our recent pseudo-married-without benefits status—I couldn't help but wonder how he'd managed to keep this from me. Or why he'd—

"Well the growth spurt helped," Deeks protested good-naturedly, "but yeah, we used to play a lot of one-on-one, which I consistently won, I may add," he said significantly, turning toward me. I shot him a disbelieving look.

"Yeah, you were taller then," Brigham returned, smiling. "Still had the beard, though."

"Can you put a shirt on?" Deeks asked, still grinning.

"Do you remember when I said he was pointing at us during the game?" I asked, suddenly feeling incredibly stupid about the way I'd teased Deeks that the basketball star was hitting on me. In hindsight, Deeks's unthreatened behavior made perfect sense, but at the time I'd been wanting to make him jealous.

"And you thought he wanted to hook up?" he teased.

"Yeah," I said, using all my skills to hold back a blush. "With you."

"Oh," he said, still with that damned smirk that made me feel like I had stupid butterflies doing a samba in my stomach. "Nice."

"Um, so we're actually here to ask you some questions," I said as we turned toward Brigham again, trying to get the visit back on track.

"You weren't playin' about this one," Brigham said, raising his eyebrows at Deeks. "She's bad."

Before I could think it through, I'd already turned to Deeks in confusion.

"Are you kidding me right now?" Deeks said incredulously. He sent a message with his eyes, and he avoided my gaze.

"Uhhh…" I choked out, unsure how I was supposed to interpret this.

I felt slightly uncomfortable that Deeks had talked to Brigham about me, but it wasn't like I hadn't occasionally talked to Nell about him—back when we used to have girls' nights and she'd gotten me considerably liquered up.

"Dude," Deeks said firmly, clearly indicating Brigham should keep his mouth shut.

"We have some questions about Mr. Jack Chapman, the uh, Sunset Scoop reporter."

"Specifically the… assault charge he filed against you," Deeks said, and only the fact that I knew him so well revealed his hesitancy to me. I could tell that he didn't like having to question his friend.

"Easy," Kip defended himself. "He attacked me. After I tomahawked his camera, he got all crazy. Tried to rush me." Brigham shrugged. "So I caught him with a two-piece," he said as he demonstrated. "Dude folded like a lawn chair."

"You must've been very upset," I prompted.

"Upset?" Brigham repeated. "Man that dude cost me a lot of money when it came to renegotiating my contract. Playing paparazzi." He smirked and then continued, "But who knew it would get me official bad-boy status. New shoe deal? Double what I woulda made before. I should thank him!"

"Well we may have to hold a seance," Deeks said, nothing in his outward appearance suggesting unease to a casual observer.

"Mr. Chapman was killed today," I added. Brigham looked genuinely surprised.

"Woooow," he said, drawing out the word. "How?"

"Still trying to figure that out," I said, shaking my head at yet another dead end, though this one wasn't useless at all. Far from it, actually. It had opened up yet another facet of my partner's life.

"Wait…" Brigham said, trailing off. "You think I had something to do with it?" he demanded incredulously. "I've gotta tweet this, where's my—"

"You can't tweet, this is an ongoing investigation," Deeks said. "You can't tweet anything." I glanced over at him, surprised at how his tone had gone from buddy-buddy to older brotherly almost instantly.

"You really think I murdered someone?" Brigham asked, and the way his eyes flashed at Deeks told me that there was a lot more behind the question than what I could decipher. They stared at each other for a tense moment before Brigham held up both his hands. "I got my white bronco out back."

"Just relax," Deeks said, his tone annoyed. "It's protocol. We just need to know your whereabouts the last 24 hours."

"Unbelievable," Brigham said, shaking his head. "Isn't this some sorta… conflict of interest?" he asked, his tone fading back into slightly playful. "I mean, maybe I should just be… talking to her. Alone."

I couldn't stop my eyebrows from shooting up as I registered that his comment was made specifically to fluster Deeks.

"Alone…" Deeks repeated incredulously, scratching his scruff briefly.

"Maybe he should talk to me alone," I joined in, hoping to bring a smile back to my partner's face. "It's a conflict of interest."

Deeks cleared his throat and turned back toward his friend.

"This is supposed to be you and I against—"

"Yeah, that was before you accused your best friend of murder," Brigham interrupted him. Deeks's head tilted to the side.

"I don't know if I'd define you as my best friend, because I got Monty," he said, his playful tone coming back.

That caused Brigham to drop the last of his tough act, and he laughed.

"All good," he said, turning away.

As we walked out of the mansion I glanced over at my partner. He had a look of intense concentration on his face. He walked to the car in silence, and we both got in.

"So… uh, you go way back?" I asked after a few miles, attempting to break the silence that had fallen over the car. He just nodded, and I held back a huff of frustration. "How far back?"

"We, uh…" Deeks trailed off, and I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye, and something in his posture made me turn fully toward him as we pulled to a stop in traffic. "We stayed with the same foster family for a time," he finally said.

Foster family? I repeated in my head. I hadn't even known my partner had ever spent time in the system.

"I—I didn't know you'd, uh… that you were a… um, I mean—" I stuttered.

"Foster kid?" he supplied blithely. "Yep." Then he turned his attention back out the window. I wracked my brain for something else to add, but I was having trouble coming up with something that didn't sound either horribly insensitive or mortifyingly pitying.

"So you used to beat Kip Brigham in basketball, huh?" I asked, hoping to both pull him out of the funk he'd fallen into and get some much needed information out of him at the same time.

When he turned to me, his eyes were serious, and he just nodded. I narrowed my eyes at him.

"And yet you've never managed to beat me," I challenged him. His eyebrows shot up.

"Is that an actual challenge, Fern?" he smirked. I felt my heart flutter in my chest, but I hid it with a smirk.

"It sure is, Shaggy," I confirmed. He regarded me for a moment before he spoke.

"Like a no-holds-barred, you-won't-hold-it-against-me kind of challenge?" he clarified. I nodded.

"Yep."

"Okay," he said, smirking again. "I'll take that and raise you." This caused me to raise my eyebrows in question. "I'll play you one-on-one," he explained. "Kip can ref and Sam and Callen can witness. You win, you get something from me that you want. Anything."

"Anything?" I asked, raising my eyebrows incredulously. My mind raced to all the wonderful possibilities. I could make him stop backing away from our thing. I could—

"Anything," he confirmed with a nod, interrupting my musings. I nodded eagerly in response.

"You're on," I said quickly, wanting to agree before he could back out. He just chuckled.

"Hold on there, Princess," he said, holding up his hands. "If I win—" I scoffed at the impossibility of that "—then I get something from you that I want," he continued as if I hadn't reacted. "Anything."

I just nodded again, sure that he wouldn't be able to defeat me. It had never happened in the past, and we'd played a lot of basketball.

He looked at me expectantly, clearly expecting me to verbalize it. When I stopped at a red light a few blocks from the mission, I turned toward him.

"Okay, Deeks," I said, humoring him. "You're on. And," I added, "Loser buys the beer."

He just smirked that same knowing smirk from before and turned his attention back to the now green light, but he seemed somewhat lighter, so I considered the conversation a success.

"You're going down," I said cockily as I tossed Deeks the ball. Deeks just cocked his head at me in response. I'd been taunting him all week, but he'd refused to budge. He hadn't taunted or teased or bragged about how he'd beat me. He'd just nodded and kept up that secretive little smirk, and it was driving me mad.

"Are you sure you don't wanna start with the ball?" he asked, not a cocky note in his voice. I narrowed my eyes and glanced around at the guys. Sam and Callen looked confused at this particular Deeks, but Kip was clearly holding back a smirk. We'd all met up at an old outdoor court in Reseda that held some sort of sentimental value to Kip and Deeks.

I shook my head and crouched slightly. "Bring it on, partner," I said confidently. Deeks gave a half-nod, and then he moved. He took a step forward—as if he was going to drive straight into me—and I stepped back slightly for better position. Then, before I could react, he spun left and was around me. I turned around to see him make an easy layup.

Sam and Callen let out roars from the sidelines, seemingly as mystified as I felt, but I didn't hear them.

"What—? How—?" I couldn't get a full question out. He just smiled a genuine smile at me.

"Your ball, Fern," he said, tossing the ball back to me. I caught the ball and refocused my attention.

That was just a lucky move, I told myself.

Except, it wasn't. I made a move toward the basket, and Deeks's long arms swiped the ball from me before I'd even processed his action. He spun around to the top of the key and swished a 3 pointer. Callen and Sam hollered again, this time both boys were just clearly impressed.

The game continued this way, until the final score was Deeks 21, and me 8. And I had a feeling that despite his no-holds-barred qualification, Deeks had let me get those points.

When Kip finally called the game, I just gawked at Deeks, unable to believe that he'd seriously just beaten me. And by so much.

"Whatcha think, Marty?" Kip's voice cut into my shock. "You up for a rematch with me now?" he demanded, passing the ball to my partner.

"I don't know…" Deeks grinned back at his friend. "I'm pretty tired. Kensi wore me out," he said, winking at me and causing Sam and Callen to laugh.

I was still slightly in shock, and I was too tired to stop the bright blush that lit up my face.

"You scared?" Brigham taunted Deeks teasingly. Deeks just grinned at him.

"Fine," he agreed, stepping up between Kip and the basket. "But I wasn't kidding about being tired," he continued, passing the ball back to Kip. "One play. I'll even let you start with the ball. First basket wins."

Kip nodded, and I shuffled off the court on jelly-like legs that were half from the intensely physical game I'd just engaged in and half from the joyful smile that lit my partner's face.

And then suddenly, Kip was in motion. The whole thing lasted no longer than seconds, but he faked left and made to spin past Deeks for a right-handed break. Deeks, however—just as he'd done with me—correctly read Kip. He reacted appropriately, his long arms reaching out and swiping the ball from the legendary Kip Brigham.

Before Kip could react, Deeks dribbled the ball once, spun, and sank a 3 pointer with a swish. And just like that, the game was over, and Deeks was once again the victor.

Sam and Callen headed onto the court to congratulate Deeks, and I hung back and watched.

"He's pretty good, huh?" Kip's voice startled me out of my thoughts. I looked up at the basketball star who I could now sort of call a friend.

"Yeah," I said, shaking my head. "He's amazing. Just don't tell him," I added. Kip laughed, but he quickly sobered.

"I tried to convince him to go pro with me," he said. I couldn't help the shock that showed on my face. "Yeah," Kip confirmed, chuckling at my surprise. "But at the time he wanted to focus on Law School. Which, you know, I was cool with, cause then Marty Mar could be my agent and stuff…" He scrunched up his face. "But then he walked away from lucrative law to be a public defender. And then again from that to become a Detective. And I don't even know what the hell he's doing now, cause there's no way in hell you're a normal police officer."

I just looked over at him smugly and said, "It's—"

"Classified," we finished together, and I laughed.

"Yeah, I know," he smiled. "That's what Marty said last year when he disappeared for a few months. And again at the beginning of this year. You know anything about that?"

I felt myself tense at the veiled mention of Siderov and Afghanistan.

"Yeah," I choked out. "Classified."

Kip nodded.

"Yeah. He hasn't been the same lately," he said. "Almost like…." I turned toward Kip, wanting to hear more about his observations, but we were cut off when Deeks wandered over.

"What are you two talking about?" he asked, playfully bumping my shoulder. I sent him a genuine smile.

"Nothing," I replied. His eyes told me that, while he didn't believe me for a second, he was going to let it go.

"Okaaaay…" he said, trailing off. "Well, Fern," he said, his cocky grin finally resurfacing. "I believe you owe me some beer."

"Fern?" Kip asked, catching the odd nickname. I just shook my head.

"Long story," I said, rolling my eyes. "Okay, Shaggy," I agreed, and Kip guffawed at Deeks's nickname. "You drive." I turned to Kip with a smile. "Join us?" I requested. "I'd love to get some dirt on Marty Mar."

We were almost to the bar when I found the words to ask Deeks what had been on my mind since that first play.

"Why don't you always play like that?" I asked him, making sure to keep any accusatory tone out of my voice.

He sighed in frustration and took one hand off the wheel to run it through his hair.

"I don't know if you've noticed, Kens," he said, avoiding my gaze, "but I'm fairly adept at getting people to underestimate me. You remember us that first year," he said firmly, and boy did I. That first year was nothing but rough. "You didn't trust me, and I didn't trust you." I couldn't help but flinch at that statement. "So I guess I just didn't want to show you my full hand."

"Okay," I said, accepting that even if it stung a little. "But why not let me in since then?" I couldn't keep the slightly hurt tone out of my voice.

That caused him to smirk.

"Has anyone ever told you how adorable you are when you win?" he asked cheekily.

I fought against a blush and lost.

"So, uh," I stumbled to change the subject, "what do you want. From me, I mean?" I blushed even harder. He just laughed.

"Wouldn't you like to know," he teased me with an infectious laugh. I couldn't help but laugh back.

"Um, yeah," I said, shaking my head. "I would have to know to give it to you," I pointed out. Deeks pulled the car to a stop in the parking lot of our favorite bar, and when he turned to look me, his eyes had lost all their joking sparkle. He was completely serious.

"I'm not quite ready to collect, Kens," he whispered. I shivered at the true meaning of his words. "Soon," he added. "But not quite yet."