Author's Note: First off, I just wanted to say thank you for all of the reviews, follows, and alerts that I received for Chapter 1 - it's really wonderful to know that people are enjoying this story! Second, I just want to acknowledge that the first part of this chapter does deal with the episode Drive, which I know is a divisive one for fans - some love it, some hate it. I personally, am not the biggest fan of the episode, for many reasons...but hopefully a little Hetty interaction can make it a bit better? Maybe? Third, I know a few people expressed wanting to see more of Deeks, and that is - at least sort of - fulfilled here. Thanks again to everyone, and I hope you continue to enjoy!
Disclaimer: Still, sadly, not mine.
Henrietta Lange – Drive
No one would ever mistake Henrietta Lange for a fool, nor is she blind.
She watches all of her agents nearly constantly and with the utmost care, keeping far closer tabs on them than they likely guess – despite being, on the whole, naturally perceptive people who are trained to observe details and detect surveillance. Hetty knows that it is primarily a mark of her hard-earned experience that allows her to "get the drop," as it were, on so many highly skilled operatives with such frequency. In some cases, her observation reaches much farther than they would likely be comfortable with if they knew. But as their supervisor in a high risk profession it is well within her prerogative, and she will do what is necessary to run her office well and to look out for her staff members' well-being. It is her responsibility to take care of them all, and guilt over such secretively intrusive behavior is something she gave up long ago.
Of late, she has been keeping a particularly vigilant eye on the younger members of Mr. Callen's team, although in truth that particular partnership had garnered her attention almost from the first moment Mr. Deeks had accepted her job offer. But things have taken a decidedly more…intense…turn over the last several months and Hetty's watchful gaze has not missed the shifts that have been taking place between the young detective liaison and Miss Blye.
In fact, she knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that she sometimes sees the steps in their rather intricate dance far more clearly than they do themselves.
This moment is a prime example of that, she thinks, sighing softly as Mr. Hanna and Mr. Callen pour and distribute the glasses of champagne. She surreptitiously watches the conversation that Kensi and Deeks are struggling to keep private just a few feet away.
"Nice try. I heard you making dinner reservations," the tall detective says softly with a slightly insecure half-grin that quickly starts to fade as his partner tells him that her plans are with someone else.
"Yeah right," he tries again, and Hetty can see the precise moment when he realizes that Kensi is, in fact, telling him the truth. The grin disappears completely, replaced with a look of disbelief and, if Hetty isn't mistaken, true hurt. "Are you serious?" she hears him murmur, his voice rising slightly.
Wanting to draw the rest of the team's focus away from the pair, Hetty takes her own glass and raises it high, proclaiming a toast in Mr. Deeks' honor that thankfully succeeds in reviving the celebratory mood. She notes that the smile Mr. Deeks now wears is genuine, but it doesn't last for more than a few moments as he and his partner once again return to their somewhat difficult conversation. She makes a point of not listening too closely after that, choosing instead to focus on the others gathered for the somewhat informal party – thereby giving Ms. Blye and Mr. Deeks as much privacy as is possible given the circumstances.
But as troubling as the exchange between the partners is to witness, and as difficult as it is to watch a somewhat subdued and dispirited version of Mr. Deeks leave the Mission alone a short while after the party breaks up, Hetty finds that the most telling incident occurs later that evening.
She stays long after most of the Mission's staff and field agents have gone home, a frequent practice of hers. She is enjoying the relative quiet of the old building as she works on a particularly sensitive bit of documentation that needs immediate redaction when the unmistakable sound of footsteps reaches her ears. Looking up, she isn't really surprised to see a rather conflicted looking Kensi walk into the bullpen and drop her coat and bag carelessly on her desk before folding her arms across her chest and shaking her head angrily.
"Ms. Blye?" Hetty questions softly, moving through the darkened alcove near her desk and stepping into the light near the young woman.
Kensi startles slightly before turning around quickly. "Hetty! I'm sorry…I didn't mean to disturb you…" she begins, before Hetty holds up a hand, silently dismissing the apology.
"Not at all, my dear…I'm simply curious as to what brings you back here at this hour. I would have thought that you would have gone home after your date with Mr…err…Jaime," she responds, glancing up at her young agent knowingly.
"How did you…?" Kensi sputters, before shaking her head. "You know what? Nevermind. I should know better than to ask how you knew." They share a momentary smile before Kensi turns back to face her desk, her expression sliding back towards the anger Hetty had seen in her when she first walked in. Anger that Hetty suspects is directed inwards, at herself. When Kensi doesn't volunteer anything further, Hetty knows she will have to be the one to draw the younger woman out.
"Is everything quite alright, Ms. Blye?" she asks in a solicitous tone, waiting to see what Kensi will say – though Hetty has her own theories about what is troubling the young woman, she is curious to see whether her agent will confirm them or whether she will continue down the path of denial she has been steadily treading for more than a year now. At a conservative estimate, Hetty thinks, her smile growing enigmatic.
Kensi hesitates for a moment, and Hetty can almost see her bite back at least three attempts to start a sentence before she exhales deeply and all the fight seems to go out of her, replaced by a sadness Hetty hasn't seen in her eyes in years…not since her earliest days with NCIS. Hetty waits patiently, and at last Kensi shakes her head and smiles softly – though it doesn't light up her face the way her smiles normally do. "I'm…fine, Hetty, but thank you," she says quietly. "I came back for this," she picks up her cell phone, which has been sitting on her desk close to where her bag had landed. "I realized halfway through dinner that I'd forgotten it."
Hetty simply looks at her, letting her gaze pierce into Kensi as she replies. "I'm very glad you remembered it, Miss Blye. Forgetting things can create a good deal of difficulty," she pauses, her eyes connecting with those of the young agent meaningfully. "I recommend taking better care of your things in future," she murmurs with a smile to take the sting out of the slightly harsh-sounding words. She never breaks eye contact with Kensi – there is no judgment in her gaze, but there is a message, perhaps even a warning. A touch of advice lurks there as well. Not unlike the advice she'd given Kensi over a year ago, along with a delicate and deadly hair adornment.
Kensi nods stiffly, seeming to understand, and mutters a hasty goodnight before grabbing her bag and jacket and heading quickly back down the wide corridor towards the exit. Hetty watches her go in silence until the door closes behind her. Only then does she move back to her own desk, shaking her head as she goes.
Denial still, she thinks. Bugger.
Nell Jones – Wanted
Nell moves along the corridor leading to the armory with carefully measured steps, attempting to find a pace that is somewhat slower than her habitual gait, and yet one that also looks and feels natural. If anyone asks her – which she fervently hopes they won't – she'll have to give them some sure to be feeble-sounding excuse about trying to find her inner calm. And while she's noticed that her natural walk has recently taken on more of a nervous, bouncing energy – and it would be good if she could work on toning down that habit – the truth is that she isn't trying to quell it simply for the sake of projecting serenity.
No.
What she will never, ever, EVER admit to anyone – not even Hetty, no, especially not Hetty – is that she is trying to work out the exact speed and bearing their inimitable supervisor uses in order to creep up on them seemingly out of nowhere. She's long envied Hetty's apparently unparalleled ability to appear out of the ether behind one of her agents and has been thinking that it would be a useful skill to master. After all, Assistand Director Granger said I had the 'Gorgon Stare,' she muses, I'm sure I can master this too.
Hetty had dispatched her to bring everyone to Ops for their new assignment, so what better time to practice, really? She vehemently squashes the little voice in her head that's suggesting she just wants to use the stealth-walk to sneak up on Eric and confiscate his latest noisemaker of obscure origin.
As she nears the open doorway to the armory, her concentration is so intense that she almost misses the snippets of conversation that float to her from inside the large room. She vaguely hears Kensi and Deeks talking about something, but doesn't focus on the topic of their conversation until something Deeks says nearly brings her up short. His playfully teasing tone is par for the course, but his words themselves are, for lack of a better description, shocking.
"…but it turns out it's you…You wanna make a baby?" he asks with a laugh.
Kensi's voice, containing a mixture of annoyance and something Nell can't quite place, interjects. "Stop it!"
But Deeks, it seems, cannot be stopped. He carries on as if his partner hadn't even spoken, the mirth in his voice growing stronger with every word. "D'you wanna make it with me? We can make some ninja-assassins –"
His questions register in Nell's mind at exactly the same instant that she turns the corner and enters the armory. Unable to hide her spontaneous reaction to the questions Deeks has just posed to Kensi, Nell's eyes widen and her mouth contracts in surprise. She knows that she's failed miserably at controlling her facial expression when her eyes connect with Deeks'. He tears his attention away from Kensi, his eyes locking on Nell's and his mouth still open from his previous comment. She can actually see the moment her reaction hits him – his mouth snaps shut and a smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth. Deciding she should speak up before things get any stranger, she forces out a wary-sounding "Hiiii…"
Kensi whips around upon hearing Nell speak, and the intelligence analyst falters for a moment under the combined gazes of the partners. Realizing she needs to say something, Nell returns to the original reason for seeking them out. "Sorry, Victor Varlamov was murdered on the beach this morning," she says apologetically, quickly relaying the information that they are all needed back in Ops.
She watches, slightly puzzled, as Kensi make an unsuccessful move to grab a clipboard from Deeks before the pair file out of the armory and head down the hall. As he passes her, Deeks hands off the clipboard to her, urging Nell not to forget to fill out her "partner survey."
Partner survey? Hetty didn't say anything about that…
She falls into step behind Kensi and Deeks, completely forgetting any attempt to keep her stride in check as she ponders both this mysterious survey and the strange conversation she'd just overheard. The more she thinks about it, in fact, the stranger it all seems, especially when she considers the expressions each of them had worn as they passed her to enter the hallway. Deeks had looked smug, his familiar joking smirk firmly in place, which wasn't surprising. It was Kensi's face, however, that continues to throw Nell. The other woman had looked…almost affectionate, Nell thinks, and I would have expected her to be annoyed.
They're nearing Ops now, and so Nell shrugs off the perplexing interaction, mentally making a note to come back to it later. For now, there are more pressing matters at hand.
TBC...
