Life, Lies and Video Surveillance
By Cortexikid
Chapter 29: Legerdemain (Part III)
A/N: THANK YOU GUYS SO MUCH! Your birthday wishes and reviews really made my week. You're all awesome! So, without further ado, part III of the aftermath :D
WARNING: CONTAINS SPOILERS FROM 4x03
Disclaimer: All the blowing-out of birthday cake candles in the world still wouldn't make NCIS: LA mine :(
WOTD: LEGERDEMAIN; leg·er·de·main noun. Deception, trickery.
"You're an idiot…"
"I know."
"A fool..."
"I know."
"A stupid—"
"Mom, I know!" he murmured into his hands, his voice muffled as he dragged his palms down his face.
Angela Deeks stared down at her son as he hung his head lowly, his eyes covered, his shoulders hunched. With a sigh, she sat opposite him, resting her palm gently on his knee.
"Marty, look at me," she spoke softly, frowning as she felt him heave a large sigh.
Slowly, his tousled blond head lifted and she was met by a gaze identical to her own, his normally mirth-filled orbs now tinged with a sadness, a pain, a shame…
"Is Andi long gone?" she asked quietly, glancing to her left where she saw the younger woman's jacket hanging on the back of the couch.
"About an hour…she said she'd call me when—" he broke off, clearing his throat, "when everything died down. Hell," he half-laughed, shaking his head in disbelief, "she wasn't even mad, didn't even question what was going on, she just told me to apologize to you and Kensi on behalf of the both of us and left…"
Angela nodded, biting her lip as she pondered how to try and fix this. But upon reflection, she realized that there wasn't anything she could do; her son was the only one to possibly mend any of these bridges. First thing first though, was to make him admit what exactly was wrong…
"So, Kensi got outta here faster than I could say 'indecent exposure', poor girl got the shock of her life," she breathed, trying to subdue a grimace as she recalled the hurt expression on the agent's face as she saw Deeks and Andi half-naked on his couch.
A fresh wave of pain flashed over her son's face at her words. He shifted uncomfortably on the chair, his eyes breaking contact with hers and instead focussing on the cell phone in his hand. Her interest peaked, Angela sat forward, glancing down at the phone, simultaneously surprised and not-so-surprised at what she saw on the screen.
It was a picture of a moment frozen in time as a beautiful brunette threw back her head in laughter, her eyes shining brightly, completely unaware of the camera, as she sat in the driver's seat of a car, sunlight bouncing off her long brunette tresses.
"Kensi…"Angela stated rather than questioned, watching intently as her son's shoulders stiffened, trying and failing to school his features into something more neutral, but it was too late, his soft eyes and small smile gave him away.
"She'd kill me if she knew I took it, she hasn't shared my love for photography," he murmured, still not taking his eyes off his phone.
"I really messed up mom," he continued, his tone of dejection causing a stir within Angela as she leaned forward and rested her hand on his shoulder.
"You're only human Marty, and people make mistakes...what really matters is what you do to make up for them," she said, her words suggesting an air of experience as her son took one last look at his phone before putting it back in his pocket.
"You're right," he replied cryptically before standing up from the chair and stifling a yawn.
"Good night mom," he murmured, his eyes still downcast before trudging to his bedroom without a backwards glance.
He could feel Angela's eyes follow him as he left the room, but just carried on, closing his bedroom door softly behind him.
There, he stood for a moment, resting the back of his head against the door, eyes firmly shut, trying to will away the nagging thoughts from his brain. He could feel the sensation rising in him, the discomfort, the guilt, the shame and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't will it away.
With a sigh, he thumped his head a few times before stepping towards his bed and plonking down, shedding his clothes. As he took off his pants, he felt a weight in the pocket. Pushing his hand in, he retrieved his cell phone, heaving what felt like the hundredth sigh before depositing it on his bedside table and lying back on his bed, eyes staring straight at the ceiling.
Tonight, sleep would not meet him.
Dark orbs stared into space as the green haze changed from 6:59 to 7:00.
"Good morning Los Angeles!" an obnoxiously loud and cheery tone omitted from the alarm-clock on the nightstand of one Agent Kensi Blye.
With a quiet groan she shoved the pillow over her ears, her eyes still transfixed on the clock, feeling as if each passing minute was an hour. It had been a long night, unbearable so, of which she didn't manage a moment of sleep.
Every time she closed her eyes all she could see was Deeks...Deeks and Andi on the couch and Angela's pitiful glance as she made her hasty retreat. Despite her best efforts, she couldn't dispel her whirlwind of emotions, they ranging from anger to frustration to...an ache in her chest that felt awfully like despair.
With a shake of her head, she once again tried to ignore the sense of discomfort invading her senses, tossing and turning back and forth, unable to get comfortable. Logically she knew she should just get up, that all semblance of sleep was lost, she had to get to work but her overtired and overworked body seemed to have other ideas. Her brain was running overtime and her heart too, she needed her rest, she needed to forget, she needed—
The loud shrill of her cell-phone disrupted the even louder noise of her radio and with a heavy heart she leaned over and snatched up the phone, answering the call without looking at the caller ID.
"Blye," Kensi murmured into the phone, not having the energy to hide her sleep-deprived voice.
"Hi sweetheart!" a very familiar voice sounded.
"Mom!" Kensi bolted upright in her bed, clearing her throat and injecting whatever amount of faux-happiness and could manage into her tone. "Hi, what's up?"
"What's wrong?" Julia asked almost immediately, concern lacing her voice.
"Nothing's wrong-"
"Kensi Marie Blye, don't lie to me. You sound like hell, now please tell me what's the matter," Julia pleaded, in her best firm but fair voice.
Kensi's shoulders sagged in defeat. Well, so much for that plan. Time for another.
"Nothing a John Hughes marathon and Oreos with my mom couldn't fix..." she murmured, tasting the lie on her lips.
"Sounds good, honey. You know what they say, you really can't appreciate Pretty In Pink until the 99th viewing," her mom replied, the teasing smile evident in her tone.
Kensi knew that she was worried about her, that despite her training she found it hard to hide her emotions from her mom and that more than likely Julia would only be in her house for two minutes before she managed to gauge what was bothering her. But she didn't care. She was at a loss of what to do and spending time with her mom always made her feel better before. She had to believe it would this time.
"Actually mom, I was thinking we could watch 'Some Kind of Wonderful.'"
It was just as she was pulling on her jacket twenty minutes later did she hear her phone beep again, this time a message showing up on the screen from Sam.
Needed in Ops ASAP. Eric and Nell got something off the tape.
Her eyebrows rose in surprise, her eyes automatically returning to the paper that she had pinned to her wall. One of Lily's drawings. It had hit her in the middle of the night, during her period of Deeks-induced insomnia, that there was a definite pattern to the little girl's pictures. One symbol stood out in the mass of black and grey that she found after she stared at it until each line was committed to memory. Until it was the only image in her head, all other unwelcome images temporarily at bay.
It looked a lot like The Marine Corps insignia...on the arm of one of the men that stood to the left and clung tightly to the illustrated Nick Clarence...
One of the kidnappers could be a marine.
Soft light peered through the cracks of the boarded windows, illuminating the dim, dank room. Nick Clarence looked up, hoping to get some sunlight on his face, anywhere, so he wouldn't have to sit chained to a pipe in pitch darkness any longer. But the windows were too high and he was shaded by the various heavy machinery that surrounded him.
He'd lost track of time since the last time he'd passed out from another round of beatings but if he had to guess, he'd say he'd been there for about three days, each moment feeling like an eternity. As of yet, he hadn't broken, hadn't given the bastards what they wanted and still had the fire in his veins, the determination in his soul to stay loyal to his country, to not commit treason, to not sell out a fellow Marine, no matter how hard they beat him, tortured him.
Like clock-work, the familiar sound of footsteps came towards him, followed by the clanking of a plate being pushed towards him. It was breakfast time.
The guard was different this time however, taller and more muscular than the usual guy and he couldn't help but ponder the change. He had been steadily planning his escape for several hours now but knew he'd have to wait until darkness before he could put it into action. So, he readily let the taller guy to approach him, to rather gently untie one of his hands so he could eat. It was when he leaned forward to pick up the plate, did the soft breath of air at the back of his neck still his actions.
"Don't worry man...you're going to be fine," a very familiar voice murmured to him, before straightening up and walking away.
Clarence gaped, stunned into silence for a moment before finding his voice and croaking after him:
"Scott?"
There were soft murmurs throughout OSP as the early morning flow of activity began. Sam Hanna settled himself in his specialized chair, a new chair he insisted he get a year ago when his old one was unceremoniously replaced as his partner, G Callen, fixed himself a cup of coffee.
Both were focused on doing their own thing, waiting a little impatiently for their colleague, Kensi Blye to arrive when suddenly something caught their attention.
The entrance of Zackary Monroe do not go unnoticed by more than just the partners, but he seemed determined to blend in, keeping his head down as he made his way towards Hetty's office.
"You ready to break in the new guy?" Sam asked his partner as he sat down at his desk, coffee in hand.
"I suppose so...and when I was just getting used to Deeks..." he murmured, the humor falling flat.
"You think he'll come back?" he posed his own question, watching intently as Sam's expression turned to one of contemplation.
"Well, I think there's really only one person that could convince him and that sure ain't me, Nell or Eric," he mused, putting down his newspaper and folding his arms.
Callen frowned confusedly at him.
"What do you mean?"
Sam sighed and stood up, walking around his desk to lean against it, speaking quietly.
"Eric kinda had this harebrained scheme to try and get Deeks to come back, had a codename and everything," he smirked with a shake of his head.
"Which was?"
"'Operation: Get Deeks Back.'"
"Subtle," Callen chuckled.
"Anyway," Sam continued, his eyes trained on Monroe's back, "I sorta followed Deeks to one of his gyms, tried to talk to him, see if I could convince him to think about coming back—"
"You get far?" his partner interrupted, his interest clearly peaked.
"I was getting somewhere...until his mom showed up."
"His mom," Callen stated rather than questioned.
"Yeah," Sam confirmed, a small smirk on his face, "quite the lady. I know now where Deeks gets all his...'Deeks-ness' from," he laughed quietly as he recalled the sassy older woman.
"He left before I could make any real head-way and if I heard right, all the wonder-twins up there got was a free coffee and a Surfing For Dummies lesson from him so it's kinda a bust," he finished, straightening up as he saw Kensi make her way into the bull-pen.
Callen nodded, knowing that the conversation was over for now, but he certainly had a lot to think about.
He may not be a certain brunette agent but perhaps it was time he got in on 'Operation: Get Deeks Back.'
"Hey," Kensi nodded, halting at her desk, looking a little pale and a drained, "you said Eric and Nell found something on the tape?"
"A glitch," Eric Beale confirmed not five minutes later as they stood in Ops, staring up at the footage of the masked man Kensi found in Emily Zaras' home.
"What kinda glitch?" Sam asked, looking from Eric to Nell and back again.
"You can see it here," Nell tapped on her tablet, replaying the footage.
The three agents stared at it intently, before all turning to stare blankly at the intelligence-analyst.
"Yeah, I didn't see it at first either," Eric confirmed their confusion, looking to his partner, "but Nell here has the eyes of a hawk...look again..." he trailed off as Nell replayed it, this time slowed down.
Slowly, the frames of the clip went by and after a few moments there was indeed a jump in the footage. With haste and split-second accuracy, Nell paused it precisely on time, just as a stream of white lettering flashed up on the screen:
#09109047
"Zero, nine, one, zero, nine, zero, four, seven...what does it mean?" Kensi asked, her eyes not leaving the screen.
"Well," Nell replied, "that's what Eric and I have been trying to figure out. We ran all types of serial numbers, social security numbers...all coming up empty so—"
"Have you ran Marine file numbers?" Kensi interrupted suddenly, reaching around to pull a piece of paper from her bag.
"Uh—"
"Cause I've been thinking," she continued as if she'd not heard her, instead turning around to the table and laying out the pieces of paper and pointing at the symbol that cropped up on each page, "tell me, what does that look like to you guys?"
"It looks kinda like the Marine Corps insignia," a voice sounded from the doorway as Zackary Monroe crossed the threshold, stepping closer to the table, his eyes not leaving the paper.
Kensi tensed, not looking at him, instead addressing the others, "that's what I thought. And here, you can see it's on the arm of one of the assailants, which got me thinking—"
"That one of the kidnappers is a marine," Monroe finished, stepping around the table to stand beside her.
"That is quite the theory, Mr Monroe," Henrietta Lange commented as she entered the room, hands clasped behind her back, "Ms Jones, Mr Beale, it would certainly be fruitful to run the numbers against the personnel files of active and inactive marines, I've cleared it with Clarence's superior..."
Nell nodded at Hetty, making a mental note and deliberately trying to ignore the rising tension within the room since the new agent's arrival.
"Oh forgive me," Hetty said suddenly, looking from Monroe to the intelligence analyst, "Nell Jones, Eric Beale, meet Agent Zackary Monroe, he will be working with you all for the foreseeable future…"
Eric's eyebrows shot up in surprise as Nell let out a short breath, her gaze automatically landing on Kensi. It was clear that the position he would be filling was Deeks' and she could only imagine how Kensi was taking that. By the stern look on her face, it wasn't well.
"Good work, Ms Blye," Hetty said motioning to the pictures before turning on her heel to leave.
"Deeks gave me the idea," she replied pointedly, not looking at her boss, instead folding her arms and staring straight ahead, ignoring the shift of movement from her left, where Monroe stood.
"As I said before, Mr Deeks is a smart man, he got us a potential lead," was the petite brunette's response before she disappeared out of sight.
After a beat of incredibly awkward silence, Callen found the need to break it.
"Okay well, me and Sam have got a meeting with Clarence's superior, Kensi, why don't you and Monroe go talk to Emily Zaras' brother, see if you can get any information from him on whether or not his sister was involved with these people or just collateral damage," he said, all business as he and Sam prepared to leave.
If looks could kill, he would have died a thousand slow deaths if Kensi's glare was anything to go by.
"We'll let you know if we come up with anything for the numbers," Eric assured them as Kensi and Callen stared each other down.
After a moment, Kensi's shoulders sagged in defeat, her eyes averting from his, migrating to the floor.
"I'm driving," she said curtly, still not looking at Monroe before storming out of Ops.
Monroe exchanged glances with the remaining occupants before clearing his throat and murmuring, "this should be a good first day," before following his new partner out.
Callen and Sam waited a beat before the latter spoke, "I give him three days."
"Nah, more like two," Callen replied.
"Care to make it interesting?" Sam asked, folding his arms.
"Alright," his partner nodded, "if I'm right you gotta take me to the game on Tuesday night and don't even try and say you don't have tickets because I saw them in your wallet—"
"And if I win?" the other agent interjected with a tilt of his head.
"I'll let you take me furniture shopping," he smirked.
"That doesn't really sound like a good thing, G..."
Stone cold silence was all that could be heard in the car on the way to visit Ben Zaras. Every couple of seconds, Kensi could see from her peripheral vision that Monroe kept shooting her glances, nervous ones if the constant wiping of his palms on his pants were any indication. She knew she was being deliberately difficult, but she just couldn't find it in herself to accept why he was here. Even if she was inwardly conflicted where her ex-partner was concerned (she grit her teeth as the unrelenting unsavoury image attacked her senses again) that didn't mean that she wanted him replaced, that she was just going to move on and forget all about—
"I'm sorry," Monroe said suddenly as they stopped at a red light.
Kensi frowned, those two words being enough to finally get her to look at him, even if only for a moment.
"For what?" she asked, they being the first words she ever truly spoke to him directly.
He took a sharp breath, trying to keep eye-contact with her but she just turned her head to look back out at the street ahead.
"That I'm here instead of Detective Deeks," he paused, tapping his palm gently on his knee, "that you feel that I'm replacing him, because let me assure you Agent Blye I—"
"You could never replace him," she interrupted, jaw clenched as the light turned green and she pulled off.
He nodded quietly, shooting her another glance.
"That's not my intention Agent Blye, really it isn't...I'm just here to get some experience, learn from the best and back you up if you need me," he finished, clearing his throat.
The rest of the journey was made in silence, although not as cold as before. As they pulled up at Zaras' apartment building, Kensi turned to Monroe, her dark eyes catching his.
"I got point," she murmured before pulling the door open and stepping out, "observe all you like, back me up if needed, but don't get comfortable Monroe, your position here is temporary," she finished before walking up the steps without a backwards glance.
Ben Zaras' eyes shone with unshed tears as Kensi and Monroe sat opposite him ten minutes later.
"She—she wouldn't hurt a fly...why would someone do this to her?" he asked, his voice breaking as he tightly clenched his hands together.
"Well, that's what we're here to try and figure out Mr Zaras...can you tell us, has your sister's behaviour changed at all in the last few months? Have you noticed anything out of the ordinary or—"
"Well, I know she's been a hell of a lot happier," he interrupted, his hand shaking as he reached for a glass of water on the coffee table, "the divorce took a lot out of her so—"
"The divorce?" Monroe interrupted, looking a little sheepish as Kensi shot him a look.
"Yeah," Zaras nodded, looking a little angry, "that bastard! First he cheats on her, then he tries to get everything in the divorce, it was brutal...but Emily came out on top," he smiled softly, it tinged with sadness, "she was just getting her life back on track..."
There was a beat of silence.
"And who was her ex-husband, Mr Zaras?" Kensi asked gently.
"Sergeant Greg Valley," he replied with venom in his tone.
"Sergeant?" the brunette asked, trepidation rising in her stomach.
"Yeah, he was a marine," he paused, looking to the (temporary) partners, "why?"
Before either of them could reply, Kensi's cell phone began to vibrate. With an apologetic smile to Zaras, she nodded to Monroe who began a secondary line of questioning, as she stood up and away from them, answering the call quietly.
"What's up Eric?"
"Kensi, we found a match for the code found on the tape. It's the number of a personnel file of an ex-marine named Gregory Valley..."
The agent nodded, glancing over her shoulder, watching intently as Monroe spoke gently to Zaras.
"Looks like we got a new suspect..."
It was past 2pm before Marty Deeks managed to drag himself out of bed, finally losing patience at tossing and turning and getting absolutely no sleep whatsoever. It had been a hell of a long night, a night of staring up at the ceiling and at his phone, his fingers itching to pick it up and press speed dial 1, even if was just to hear her voicemail.
With tired eyes and heavy limbs, he trudged into the kitchen, stifling a yawn with the back of his hand. His neck creaked painfully, protesting at not having a pillow under it all night (he could still smell Andi's perfume on them, even though he changed the pillowcases) after he threw them off the bed in frustration.
He knew it was a mistake sleeping with Andi, knew that neither of them were in the right state of mind and was deeply regretting it. When she came in last night and threw her arms around him, he wanted desperately for it to feel right, to not feel the wave of erroneousness in his veins, in his heart that he felt the first time. Life would be so much simpler if he could love her again, fall back into the relationship he had when he was a teenager, a young man and have it actually work out this time.
But life wasn't simple and his feelings weren't easily manipulated no matter how hard he tried. It felt not quite right because deep down he knew he didn't want a relationship with Andi despite still having strong feelings for her, they weren't the right feelings. They were nostalgic, familiar but not enough to sustain a relationship, not everything she deserved.
He wanted her to have the best in life. And he was not the best for her. Or she for him. Now, he just had to figure out a way to tell her.
As he stood at the sink, his nostrils were suddenly filled with the sweet smell of something. Looking over his shoulder, he saw his oven on and smiled. His mom was making cookies.
At that thought, he was suddenly transported back to a time, over a year ago now where another brunette 'made' cookies. His partner, Kensi Blye as Melissa in that beautiful, red floral dress, looking the epitome of the glamorous and talented chef, only to be outed as a fraud. He couldn't help but chuckle, even now, as he remembered looking through the trash and finding the packaging that she not-to-subtly hid amongst tissue and egg shells.
His heart panged painfully in his chest as that image of her smirk and twinkling eyes as she smacked him on the ass for trying to steal a Snicker Doodle suddenly morphed into the pained, closed-off expression he was met me last night when she saw him and Andi.
Before he could talk himself out of it, he dug his hand into his pocket and dialled number one on his speed dial, his foot tapping impatiently on the floor. His heart sank further into his stomach as he got nothing but her voicemail. With a deep sigh, he raked his hand down his face, trying to frantically think of something to say just as the beep sounded.
"Hey Kens...it's uh, Deeks. Listen I—I know it's the first Friday of the month and you're probably off visiting Astrid and having poker night or espionage-themed movie-night or whatever it is you guys do after work but...can you please call me back when you get this? I—I'm sorry for what happened last night and I…I miss you, partner. Okay uh...later."
"Not exactly grovelling, but it's a start," a voice said from behind him.
"Good morning mom," he said, not turning around.
"Morning? Marty it's two in the afternoon," she replied a little exasperatedly, walking over to the oven and turning it down.
"Yeah well, I didn't sleep great," he sighed, turning on the faucet and filling a glass with water.
"I'm not surprised," she commented just as the timer went off.
Deeks turned to watch her take out the cookies, a tiny smile gracing his face as he saw what shape they were in.
"Really mom? Fire-trucks? Didn't realize I was six years old again..."
"Well, they cheered you up back then," she murmured, a flash of sadness tingeing her face as she thought back on his childhood, "I was hoping they might do the trick now."
Deeks stepped over to his mom and kissed her on the cheek, reaching out to take a cookie only to have his hand slapped away.
"Ow! What was that for?"
"They're too hot, you'll burn your fingers," she scolded as the blond rolled his eyes.
"I was a cop mom; I think I can handle burned fingers," he laughed before picking one up, only to hiss, "ow! Hot, hot!" before dropping it back down onto the dish.
"Told you so..." his mom smirked before her face turned a little serious, "you called her 'partner.'"
Deeks stilled at her words.
"Yeah well she is...was," he amended, rubbing his neck.
"And is that all she is? Was?" Angela pressed, her identical orbs boring into his.
He gaped at her, not sure how to answer that.
"No, I mean yes, I mean, no...she—she is my friend too, my best friend," he responded, breaking eye-contact, again reaching out to pick up a fire-engine-shaped cookie (this time blowing on it first) and taking a bite.
"And is that all you ever want her to be?" his mom asked as easily as if she were asking the time.
He nearly choked on the cookie as he heard those words, her face the most serious he'd seen it in quite a while. He began chewing frantically but before he could open his mouth to reply, she beat him to the punch.
"Don't even try and deny it Marty. I'm your mother, I know when you're lying, same thing goes for avoiding the truth. I see the way you look at that girl, I knew it the second I met her that she was Kensi, the woman who you talk and talk about every time we speak on the phone. Your voice changes when you mention her name, your eyes light up when she's in the room, your entire demeanour changes. Hell, even when you were rolling around on the couch with Andi I didn't see that much passion—"
"Mom!"
"And the fact is, you keep lying to not only me and probably the rest of the world but yourself too. And it's making you unhappy. Not being with her, whether it is as her partner and friend or as more, is hurting you. And it's hurting her. You didn't see her yesterday Marty, when she first stopped by the apartment. She's good at hiding her emotions, very good, but how she spoke about you, two minutes with the girl and I could tell she missed you, cared about you a lot. So give me one good reason why you're doing this? Why you're not only putting yourself through this but your best friend, the woman you're clearly in love with—"
"I'm not—" he broke off, unable to finish that sentence.
"See? You can't even deny it anymore," she turned to him, placing her hand on his shoulder, squeezing it gently before picking up a cookie and walking out of the room, leaving him alone to ponder on what just happened.
"You're the bravest man I know Marty," she called over her shoulder, "now is time to prove it."
Deeks stood there, in the middle of his kitchen, open-mouthed, bitten cookie still in hand. With a nod, he shoved his phone back in his pocket and raced out the door, slamming it behind him.
He needed a walk.
"Take a seat Sergeant Major Riggs," Sam directed the elder man to a seat at one side of the table in the boat shed.
"You said you had news on Clarence's disappearance?" he asked, looking from Sam to Callen and back.
"Yes," Callen replied, "although, we're not sure what to make of it. One of our agents found a DVD at another crime scene, a murder of a young woman, and on this DVD was one of our kidnappers, Clarence tied to a chair behind him."
The Sergeant Major's eyebrows rose.
"Now, when our tech analysts raked through the footage, something caught their eye," he paused, sharing a look with his partner, "a number, a very specific number imbedded in the footage that led us to a personnel file for another one of your marines..."
"You think another marine is responsible for Clarence's abduction?" the elder man asked, clearly affronted by the idea.
"That's what it seems like, sir," Sam responded, "what can you tell us about Sergeant Greg Valley?"
Riggs seemed unsurprised at the mention of Valley's name.
"I know he had it out for Clarence and two more of my men too, Scott Lovejoy and Declan O'Dowd," he responded, resting his hands on the table.
"So you think he had motive to kidnap Clarence?"
Riggs nodded, looking grim.
"Definitely, Clarence is the reason Valley got discharged," he paused for a moment, "I can't divulge to the full extent the specifics you can understand, it's classified, but I can tell you that Clarence reported him for dishonourable conduct, Lovejoy and O'Dowd backing up the story..."
Callen and Sam let that information sink in.
"Do you think Valley is capable of stone-cold murder, Sergeant Major?" Callen asked, leaning forward to look him dead in the eye.
"He was beyond enraged when he was discharged...I'd say it isn't out of the realm of possibility. Why?" he finished, looking apprehensive of the answer.
"Because the young woman we found dead in the house with the message from Clarence's kidnappers was Valley's ex-wife, Emily Zaras..."
Guns at the ready, the team silently climbed the stairs of the apartment building, halting when they got to the fourth floor and quietly made their way down the corridor, towards door number 19.
"Greg Valley, NCIS, open up!" Sam Hanna yelled through the door before holding up his hand and counting down silently on his fingers.
Five.
Four.
Three.
Two.
One.
In one long swoop, the agent kicked in the door and stepped through it, his partner, Kensi and Monroe not far behind him.
"Clear!"
"Clear!"
"Clear!"
"Clear!"
"Looks like nobody's home," Kensi said as they all convened back in the kitchen.
"Looks like nobody's been home in quite a while," Callen replied, running his finger along the table before holding it up to show the dust.
Each agent took a room to search through, looking for anything that might tell them where Valley could have gone. Kensi was rummaging through his nightstand when she came across a stack of Polaroid photographs that were certainly interesting to say the least.
"Guys, I think I got something," she called, holding out one of the pictures for Sam to take as he, Callen and Monroe joined her.
"Whoa," Monroe breathed as he took a picture, his eyebrows shooting up.
"That's Emily Zaras," Callen commented pointing to the half-naked woman lying sprawled on a bed.
"Yeah, but that ain't Valley," Sam said, pointing to the unidentified man sprawled next to her.
"Looks like," Kensi murmured, slipping the photographs into an evidence bag, "we got a motive for her murder..."
"So what does Zaras' murder and Clarence's abduction have to do with the other?" Callen asked as they all made their way into the bullpen.
"Well, she was Valley's wife who we already know is capable of infidelity and Valley worked with Clarence...maybe she was having an affair with him too?" Kensi hypothesized, sitting down at her desk and watching intently as Monroe stayed standing.
"Maybe...but why kidnap Clarence? Why not just kill him?" Sam asked, taking a seat at his desk, the fact Monroe refused to sit not escaping him either.
"How do we know he hasn't? I mean, there's been no ransom, no—"
"Yeah but why leave that tape at Emily's house? Why give us proof of life if he was just going to kill him?" Kensi cut across Monroe.
"How do we even know that was Valley on the tape, though? I mean, why would he go to the trouble of imbedding his own personnel file number into the footage when it would only help to prove his guilt?" Callen pondered, sitting next to Kensi.
"Unless...the person on the tape wanted us to look into Valley," Monroe piped up, shifting his weight from foot to foot, clearly uncomfortable still standing as the rest remained seated.
"But isn't that just helping us?" Kensi asked, folding her arms.
"Maybe someone wants to help," Monroe shrugged.
"You think that maybe one of the others is an unwilling participant?" Sam jumped in, leaning forward and resting his elbows on the desk.
"Maybe, either that or Valley is innocent and they're trying to frame him," the junior agent replied.
"Well, either way, we're not going to get much else done tonight," Callen stood up, donning his jacket, "Eric and Nell have put out a search for Valley and are running facial rec on the guy in the photograph, techs are raking through his house and the tape is being reviewed for any more information so I'll see you guys later..." he trailed off, beginning to walk away.
"Yo, G! Where do you think you're going?" he heard his partner shout after him.
"For a walk!"
The sun was setting on the park, its dim light shining through the mass of trees, illuminating the ground with a vast amount of shadows of all shapes and sizes. Marty Deeks heaved a deep sigh as he sat down on the bench, looking out onto the playground were the older children were still playing as the younger ones were being led home by their exhausted-looking parents.
It was tranquil, the soft murmurs of laughing people as he tried to ignore his inner turmoil, his mind racing as he reflected on the bomb-shell his mom dropped in his lap. Exercise of any kind usually worked wonders for clearing his mind but it seemed that that just wasn't going to cut it today, the revelation was just too much.
He was in love with his partner.
It may have been his mom that said it, but he couldn't deny it.
It was why things had felt so off with him and Andi, it's why he was so jealous of the new guy while still being concerned that he wasn't good enough to have her back. He always knew he was attracted to her, god, how could he not be? But over the years, with banter and teasing and high-risk situations and uncover ops and cover-kisses, somewhere along the way he'd fallen for her, hard. Their 'thing' was so much more than just that now. He could feel it, every time he looked at her, spoke to her, thought about her...
He was so screwed.
"Don't think too hard Deeks, you might hurt yourself," a familiar voice came from his right as a figure sat down beside him.
"You know that from experience, do ya Callen?" he replied, not taking his eyes off a father and son who were flying a model aeroplane off in the distance.
"Something like that," the agent smirked leaning back on the bench and stretching out his legs.
"So, what's your approach gonna be huh? Nell tried coffee, Eric tried surfing, Sam tried punching me in the face and Hetty tried offering me a job...none worked," he turned his head to regard his ex-colleague.
"Hetty offered you a job?"
He nodded, turning his attention back to the park.
"Yeah, she told me that the position of NCIS agent is there if I want it," he shrugged nonchalantly.
Callen nodded silently, following Deeks' eye-line and watching as the small plane soared above the heads of a man and his child. They were silent for a long time then, the sky darkening slightly, a chill rising in the air.
"You're a great cop Deeks," Callen said suddenly, "the best I've seen. I get it if you don't want to go back, I really do, but I think that you'd really benefit from joining NCIS full-time."
"Do they always send you or is there a recruitment video?"
Callen shook his head, realizing that this was the wrong route to go. Time for a bit of brutal honesty.
"The team changed the day you joined us Deeks," he murmured, eyes straight ahead, "you—brought something with you that just made the days seem a little less long, made the job seem a little less dark. Not only did your background in undercover help us solve dozens of cases but you did something that none of us really could do before. You made Kensi laugh. I mean really laugh unlike anything me or Sam had ever seen. We could see how good you were for her and how good your partnership was from the get-go. You're a good team, are both great at what you do and complement each other.
"You've gone from strength to strength over the years Deeks. Your input and skills are invaluable to the team and honestly, without them, we are lacking something. We'll manage without you, we have before, but that's not what it's about. You're a part of our team now, a key member in our messed up version of a family and I for one will be sad to see you go.
"But if you don't want to come back for me or Hetty or the rest of the team and you don't want to do it for your career, then do it for Kensi. You and she have a good thing going, one of the best partnerships I've ever seen...you've got her back like nobody I've ever met and she has yours one hundred per cent. So just...think about what you're really giving up before you decide to throw in the towel..." he paused, letting his words sink in.
Deeks gaped at him, speechless. Well, that was unexpected.
"And I...want to apologize, for what went down in the gym. I never should have pushed you like that, it was out of line," he turned to look at him, holding out his hand for him to shake.
Deeks stared at it for a moment, before clasping his hand and shaking it.
After a moment, Callen nodded and stood up, glancing down at the ex-liaison.
"NCIS would really benefit from having you as an agent, Deeks. Think about what I said," he finished, nodding one more time before turning and walking away.
Deeks stared at his retreating back, immobilised on the bench long after Callen had disappeared from sight.
Well, wasn't this a day just full of surprises?
A knock sounded at the door, jarring her out of her zombie-like state as she sprawled on her couch, her eyes unfocused and staring off into space.
"I'm coming," she grumbled as she trudged to the door, unlocked it and cracked it open.
"Well, don't you look like death warmed up," Julia Feldman commented as Kensi stood back and let her into her house.
"Hoarders marathon? You're really not in a good place," she remarked as she took a seat on the couch, opening her bag and taking out a jumbo-sized packet of Oreos and a box of glazed donuts with all Kensi's favourite toppings.
"I—I'm fine mom, really, you want something to drink?" Kensi asked distractedly, running hand through her hair.
"I want you to tell me what's wrong. I can tell it's not a work thing so don't even try that 'it's classified' crap…" she trailed off, watching as her daughter heaved a sigh and sank down into the couch cushions, her body sagging tiredly.
"I…I don't even know where to start. I'm not even sure how to explain—"
"It's Marty, isn't it?"
Kensi caught her mom's eye and suddenly Julia knew, she could see, plain as day the fresh pain that brewed there, just behind her gaze. It broke her heart.
"Oh sweetheart…what happened? Is he okay? Are you okay? What—"
"He quit."
Stunned silence followed those words. Julia only needed to spend two minutes with Marty Deeks to tell he loved his job, adored working with NCIS, with her daughter, she couldn't ever imagine him quitting.
Suddenly, it was if Kensi had been wound too tight, she leapt off the couch like a spring and began pacing back and forth, rambling, her flood-gates bursting wide for the first time in a long time as she desperately tried to work through her frantic thoughts, her whirlwind of emotions.
"I mean, he just up and quit and-"
"You're pissed," Julia stated simply, knowing that it was so much more than that and hoping her daughter would elaborate.
"Yeah! I'm really pissed and I mean, I get he's upset and he's pissed at the LAPD but he didn't even think about it! He just made this huge snap-decision and just expected everyone to accept it right away and move on—"
"But you haven't," her mom said, feeling as if she was really starting to scratch the service of the problem.
Kensi whirled around and stared down at her, her eyes shining brightly.
"I can't," she half-whispered, "no matter how hard I try to stay mad at him, to just accept that we're not partners anymore and that he's a grown man and can make his own decisions…I just, I see his face, I remember everything he went through the last while and I—I just want to—"
"Be there for him…" Julia finished as Kensi swallowed deeply, nodding to herself.
"He's shut me out," she murmured softly, the hurt evident in her voice.
"But that's not just it, is it? Something else happened recently…" Julia trailed off, trying to nudge her daughter to continue.
Here, an uncomfortable grimace crossed her daughter's face as she shifted on the couch, her thoughts clearly a mile away.
"I—I may have walked in on him with…" her voice died in her throat, unable to continue, not particularly wanting to share this information with her mother, for fear she'd read too much into her reaction.
"He was with another woman?" Julia asked, her uncanny ability to read her daughter not failing her.
Kensi nodded, looking like it physically pained her to do so. Her mom knew how hard this was for her to talk about. She was never much of the 'sharing is caring' type.
"He and Andi have a past," she murmured softly, still not able to look at her mother, instead picking at a loose thread in her jeans, "but I don't think it's a good idea trying to rekindle anything in the headspace he's in and—"
"You're jealous," Julia smirked.
"What? No!" she scoffed, still unable to meet her gaze.
"Kensi…" her mom began, leaning forward and taking her daughter's hands in hers. "I know you find it hard to open up. You heart is safely guarded by walls and walls of steel that have built up over time to help shield you from all the pain that life throws at you. But you have to ask yourself, who is the one person that can penetrate those walls? Because it's not me…" she paused, squeezing her hands gently.
"Marty has helped you open up, even more in the last two years since we've been back in contact. I can see the change in you, the warmth that shines through you when you're together. I know in the past you've shot my opinion on you two down and maybe you have every right to but…sweetheart, I don't think you can anymore…" she leaned even further, trying to catch her eye.
"Harsh truth, honey? I think you're trying to avoid something that deep down you've known for a long time…but I won't tell you what you feel. But I will ask. Are you in love with your partner?"
Kensi snorted as she heard that all-too familiar question again.
"You're not the first person to ever ask me that," she replied, playing the avoidance card she so favourably plays as she remembered Astrid ask her that precise question a year before. She made a mental note to call her to let her know she'd be a little late for poker tonight…
Julia nodded, letting that information sink in for a moment.
"You say that it isn't the first time someone has asked you if you're in love with Marty? Well, I can tell you, it won't be the last. Because how you feel about him, despite your best efforts, is written all over you, when you look at him, when you speak about him and when you think about him. The man is a trained detective, I think you'll only be able to hide your true feelings for so long before he picks up on them…" she trailed off, watching as Kensi broke away and stood up, her pacing returning.
"I think he already has," she whispered, the unspoken admission behind her words, they oddly freeing, "maybe not to the full extent but…he can feel it, just like I can…"
The elder brunette stared for a moment in silence as her daughter worried a hole into her floor.
"Then," she started, standing up and joining her, resting her palm on her shoulder, "maybe it's time you told him the full extent of what you feel for him."
Kensi stared at her, biting her lip nervously as she tried to fathom the possibility of even trying to tell him.
"Mom I—"
The loud buzz of her cell-phone interrupted her as it rang from her pocket. With an apologetic look, she retrieved it and stepped away, answering quickly.
"Blye."
"Kensi! We found another code imbedded in the tape," Eric rambled quickly, "it's coordinates, they lead to a warehouse about twenty miles outside of the city. Nell and I got eyes on it now; it looks like it's our kidnappers' hide-out…"
Marty Deeks climbed the stairs of his apartment building, taking deep breaths as his mind continued to race. He was almost glad that Mrs Davis told him the elevator wasn't working but frowned when he arrived on his floor, only to have her step out of it, offer him a cheeky grin before entering her apartment.
"Touché," he murmured before unlocking his door.
"Mom I'm ho—Andi," he gaped as his eyes landed on the familiar brunette sitting on his armchair, regarded him with interest.
"Angela let me in, she left about ten minutes ago," she informed him, her tone even.
"You uh…forgot your coat," he muttered, picking up her coat up off the back of the couch and stepping over to her, holding it out for her to take.
"Thanks," she mumbled, not looking him in the eye.
The air in the room was beyond uncomfortable, it thick with tension and awkwardness. Deeks cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his neck, wondering how to ease into conversation, trying to put out of his mind the fact that the last time he and Andi were like this with each other was just before they broke up over a decade ago.
"You want something to eat, drink—"
"I want to talk, Marty," she cut across him, her face marred by a grimace.
Oh no, nothing good came along with that face.
"I—did you apologize to your mom and Kensi for last night?" she asked, apparently changing tact, standing up and folding her arms across her chest.
"Yeah," he nodded, "well, my mom anyway, I uh…haven't seen Kensi…"
Andi seemed to find that interesting but didn't comment.
"What did you want to talk about?" he asked, finding no need in prolonging the inevitable.
"You know what," she groused, running a hand through her hair.
"What happened between us it was—"
"A mistake," he finished grimly, mirroring her stance.
Her eyebrows rose, a flash of something passing over her face.
"That wouldn't exactly be the word I'd use but…yeah, I think it might have been," she shifted her weight from foot to foot, her eyes cast downwards.
"I just—I think we were both looking for something in each other that just isn't there," she continued, finally dragging her gaze up from the floor to reach his.
"I do love you Marty, I always have, you were my first friend, my first boyfriend, my first everything, a piece of my heart will always belong to you but I think…I think your heart belongs to someone else…"
And there it was. The start of a conversation he knew was brewing. They were getting to the heart of the matter now…literally.
"How did you know?" he asked, wondering how a highly trained uncover operative couldn't fool her.
"Your face, when you woke up. For a split second you looked—terrified," she chuckled a little deprecatingly.
"You slept on the right," he mumbled, casting his mind back to yesterday morning when he woke up and saw the brunette hair sprawled on his pillow and for a fraction of a second thought she was someone else entirely.
"There's only one person I ever surrendered the right side to…" he trailed off, realizing too late how that sounded.
"You slept with Kensi?" she asked, her eyebrows shooting up in shock.
"What? No! Well technically—it's a long story but…when I woke up and saw you on the right side I guess I…freaked out a little," he murmured apologetically.
Andi watched intently, her brown eyes twinkling as he crossed the room to her, reaching out and taking her hand.
"You were the first girl that I ever fell in love with Andi and I wish things didn't end the way they did. I guess a part of me wanted to go back, to try and fix the mistakes we made as kids, to give each other another chance but…" he broke off, hanging his head.
"But we're not the same people we were. We both grew up, moved on, fell in love with different people," she paused, "me, with a wonderful man named Mitchell and you with the kickass Kensi Blye," she grinned, reaching up and cupping his cheek.
"Mitchell?" he asked, ignoring the end of her sentence.
She smiled a little sadly at him.
"My ex-fiancé, we broke up last year…" she shook her head as if to rid herself of the painful memories, "but don't change the subject, Marty. Look me in the eye and tell me you're not in love with Kensi Blye."
"I can't," he murmured, shaking his head, a small smile gracing his face.
"It's no declaration, but it's a start," she nodded, a smile gracing her face too, if not a little sad as he reached up to where her hand lay on his cheek and held her hand.
"Just don't wait too long…Kensi deserves to know," she poked him in the shoulder before slipping her jacket on and turning to leave.
"Just—keep in touch, won't you Marty? I—I don't want to lose you completely again…" she threw him one last smile before opening the door and walking out into the corridor.
"Look after yourself Andi Benson, thank you," he kissed her cheek, watching her retreating back until she stepped into the elevator and out of sight.
Taking a deep breath, he stepped back into his apartment and leaned against the door, resting his head and staring up at the ceiling.
He had a lot of thinking to do…
Two cars pulled up a half-mile from a warehouse, two people emerging from each, all retrieving guns from their holsters and racing towards the building in single-file. The darkness was truly descending now, but they couldn't risk flashlights, relying fully instead on their adjusting eyes.
"Me and Sam got the perimeter, Kensi, you and Monroe split up, take the lower level and we'll follow your lead," Callen whispered as they entered the forecourt, a few hundred yards from the building.
Kensi and Monroe nodded, tacitly taking in their surroundings, guns raised, eyes and ears wide open for any sign of movement.
As they reached the entrance, Monroe got the handle, as Kensi pointed her gun at the door. Quickly and quietly, he flung it open. Her eyes raked the immediate vicinity for a moment before nodding to him and stepping through, pointing to her left, where Monroe instantly began sweeping.
Kensi ploughed ahead, a door at the very end of the warehouse catching her attention. Turning back, she saw that Monroe was doing fine, going through a door to the right of where she stood. It was unnerving to say the least, not having Deeks have her back as she went through normal procedure, but she shook that thought off, focusing on the task at hand.
Pulling open the door, she did a quick check left and right before continuing forward into a room that was surrounded by heavy machinery. In the distance, she could hear a clanging noise, like chains scraping against metal. With a bite of her lip, she concentrated on walking as quickly and quietly as she could.
Suddenly, a loud thump caught her attention and she whirled around, only to be met by a familiar person.
"What—what are you doing here? How did you get—"
A shot rang out in the dead of the night, piercing the silence and reverberating off the walls.
Kensi gasped, stumbling back, her gun falling from her grasp and hitting the floor with a smack. Looking down she was shocked to see a large, crimson stain on her shirt. Frowning, she pressed her fingers to it, a tingling sensation rising from her tips all the way up her arm.
As if in slow motion, her knees buckled from underneath her, her body collapsing onto the hard, dusty floor, her polychrome eyes wide and staring up at the ceiling until the darkness began to drip, like little ink blots, like the blood seeping from her body, at the edge of her vision until all that was left was…
Nothing.
A/N: I'M SORRY, I'M SORRY, I'M SORRY! It had to be done. Because I'm just that evil. *Maniacal laugh*
Please Review!
~Cortexikid x
NEXT CHAPTER TEASER:
"Right now, I'm not your partner so I'm not breaking any rules. I'm just a very concerned friend with some very strong feelings and—just please don't kill me for this Kens…" he trailed off, his gaze lingering on her pale face and closed eyes, before leaning forward and capturing her lips with his.