A/N: Hello my lovely readers! I'm so sorry it's been a few weeks since I posted, but I ran into an awful case of writer's block last week, which probably had something to do with the massive amounts of boring research essays I've been writing lately. They're sucking all the creativity right out of me! I finally finished, though, and I think you guys will really like this chapter. And I know you're going to love the next chapter, but you have to read this one to find out what's happening next. Enjoy and don't forget to follow/favorite/review!

Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS: Los Angeles

The shots drummed through her, roaring in her ears and pounding through her brain. She'd become used to the kickback of a sniper rifle and it's didn't even faze her anymore. Breathe in for four counts, breathe out for four, shoot. Steady hands, steady mind, control. Keep your eye on the target. The targets fell, one after the other.

Corporal Jennings' voice came through her ear bud, "Good, Blye. We're done for the day, come on down." Kensi pulled away from the scope and rolled over, tucking the gun against her chest. She stood and climbed down from the tower, careful not to slip on the metal stairs, which were covered in loose dust that had been blown in with the winds.

Kensi reached the ground and jogged over to the group. Corporal Jennings nodded at her and said, "Alright men, jog back to camp and get cleaned up for dinner." The Marines promptly turned and began to jog back in an orderly line. Kensi turned to follow, but Jennings' voice stopped her. "Not you, Blye. There's someone here who wants to speak to you."

Kensi turned back, furrowing her brow. "Who?"

Jennings shrugged, "Someone from higher up. I have orders to bring you back to camp."

Still confused, Kensi followed him to his truck parked beside the tower and loaded her rifle into one of the cases in the back—the Marines had jogged back with theirs—and then climbed into the passenger seat. Jennings started up the truck and put it in drive.

After a few minutes, he said, "You're doing really well out there. Better than most of my men. Still sure you don't want to join up? Even as an intelligence analyst, you'd be valuable."

Kensi laughed. This was not a new argument from Jennings, even though he knew the answer would always be the same. "I'd rather use my skills to keep you guys safe. Thanks, though."

Jennings smiled, something he did very rarely, and it showed. "It's always worth a shot."

Kensi smiled back and looked out the window, watching as the gates to the camp came into view. She realized suddenly that she was dusty and sweaty, and not in any shape to be facing someone from higher up the line. She fussed with her hair, redoing her ponytail and smoothing away the stubborn flyaways. Jennings looked over with a bemused expression, but he didn't say anything.

The truck stopped in front of the main administrative building and Kensi got out. "You'll take care of my gun for me?" She asked.

Jennings nodded and said, "Good luck. You're going places, Blye." And then he drove away, leaving a bewildered Kensi behind. What was that supposed to mean?

She dusted off her clothes as best she could and then walked into the building. The secretary, Bridget, smiled at her and sent her through to the Sergeant's office. Kensi knocked.

"Come in," called an unfamiliar voice that was certainly not Sergeant Fredericks'. Kensi entered.

She'd been to the Sergeant's office quite a few times over the past few years. He had been a friend of her father's, and because of that, he had allowed her to start training with the Marines. He'd treated her like a daughter almost, though his gruff, military presence did not invoke a fatherly image in Kensi's mind. He had vowed to help her become an agent, though, and made sure that she was treated just like the other men. For that, Kensi was beyond appreciative.

Fredericks' office looked the same as it usually did, though his red leather chair did not hold the Sergeant. Rather, it held someone quite different, and not at all what Kensi was expecting. She balked slightly.

"Hello, Ms. Blye. Please, sit down," the woman said, gesturing toward the chair that sat on the other side of Fredericks' desk. Kensi sat down, trying to smooth out her clothes under the observant gaze of the small, but very intimidating woman.

"My name is Henrietta Lange," the woman said. She held out a small hand and Kensi reached across the desk to shake it.

"It's nice to meet you," Kensi replied.

"I am the head of NCIS's Los Angeles branch, the Office of Special Projects. I've heard many good things about you from Corporal Jennings and Sergeant Fredericks," the woman said quietly. Her voice was almost comforting, if it didn't hold a razor's edge of no-nonsense. It was a voice that had been practiced, Kensi realized. It was controlled and calculated and though this woman had seen a lot, she probably said very little. Kensi understood that what she did say was probably extremely important. She sat up straighter.

"Sergeant Fredericks tells me that you're interested in joining NCIS as an agent."

"That's correct," Kensi replied. "I'll be turning in my application for training soon."

Ms. Lange leaned forward and laced her fingers together on the desktop, settling her magnetic gaze on Kensi. "What if I told you that there was no need to turn in your application? I've seen you in action, Ms. Blye, and I think you would be a great addition to my team. No paperwork needed." Kensi sat stunned. "You would, of course, still have to go through the training course as well as a series of interviews, but I could fast track you through the application and physical examination processes," the woman said. She looked at Kensi sagely through her spectacles, waiting for an answer.

It took a moment for Kensi to find the words, but she finally stuttered out, "Thank you, Ms. Lange. That's an incredible offer."

"But…?" the woman prompted, picking up on Kensi's hesitation.

"It's a big decision," Kensi explained, twisting her fingers together in her lap. "I still have seven months left of school, and I'd planned to move out to DC in the summer and start training in the fall."

Ms. Lange's eyes softened slightly and she said. "I would never expect you to quit your schooling, Ms. Blye. On the contrary, I was hoping you would graduate with honors, as you seem to be preparing to do, and join the summer training course. It is a large decision, though, and I understand if you would like to take time to think about it."

Kensi relaxed slightly, relieved that she wouldn't be expected to make a choice so abruptly. "Thank you, Ms. Lange" she said. "I really do appreciate the offer."

"I know you do." She pulled out a business card and handed it across the desk to Kensi, who took it, trying not to smudge it with her dusty fingers. "Call me when you make a decision, Ms. Blye. Preferably before the applications are due in three weeks' time. I wouldn't want you to miss out on this opportunity."

Kensi looked up and nodded wordlessly, rolling the words around in her head. Finally, she said, "Thank you, Ms. Lange. I'll let you know soon."

Ms. Lange smiled and nodded. "I look forward to your call. And please, Ms. Blye, call me Hetty."

Taking that as her cue to leave, Kensi stood and left the office, the shock and realization finally starting to hit her. She looked down at the business card in her hand, taking in the tiny print and running her finger over the NCIS seal at the top. This was her future, everything she had wanted since her father had died, and it was right in her hand. How could it have possibly happened so fast?

" , would you care to enlighten the class on your findings?"

Deeks groaned inwardly and tried to summon some patience, but it was nearly the end of class, he was hungry, and Dr. Healy's voice tended to grate at him just enough that whatever patience he had left was wearing thin.

Chelsea, sitting next to him, nudged him with her foot. Deeks looked up, putting on a smile. "Of course, though I have some new information that you might find interesting," he said, watching as Healy's sour face twisted into an even bitterer scowl.

"Really," the professor said, his disbelief evident. "Please, I'm sure we'd all love to hear it."

Deeks cleared his throat and flipped through his folder to the copies of the reports Kensi had made. They weren't the official reports, of course, but he'd already spoken to Dr. Cramer, who had told him the new reports were being processed, and that they were sure to be correct this time around.

"I spoke to Dr. Cramer in the forensics department. He headed up the team that examined the crime scene. In another, closer examination, it seems that there was an inconsistency with the fingerprints found at the scene," Deeks said. He could hear the slight shuffling and murmuring of the class around him. Healy kept quiet. "The set of fingerprints on the coffee cup used to kill Cesar Muñez are not a match to any of the other victims or suspects present at the crime scene. There was another person present at the times of the murders, and he or she also committed a murder."

Now, the class was whispering. Deeks could feel Chelsea beside him, turned fully towards him in surprise.

"And how did you find this information, Mr. Deeks?" Healy asked, his voice effectively quieting the room.

Confused, Deeks repeated himself, "I talked to Dr. Cramer." As happy as he was the Kensi had been the one who actually told him, Deeks was not about to tell Healy that he'd gotten his information from an "unreliable source." He had talked to Dr. Cramer, so it wasn't a complete lie.

"Yes, but what led you to do that? The assignment was to read through the case files to find evidence to support Mr. Molina, not to go searching for new evidence."

Feeling the frustration bubbling inside of him, Deeks replied, "I went straight to the source of the information so I could make sure it was all true. I wanted to make sure there weren't any inaccuracies that could jeopardize Mr. Molina's freedom." He said the last part bitterly, earning him another nudge from Chelsea. About half the class was under the same mindset that helping a known felon go free was immoral, but Healy had made it very clear from day one that they shouldn't make their opinions about that known.

Now, Healy's eyes narrowed and he stared Deeks down. Deeks stared back, challenging the professor. "Did you find anything else, Mr. Deeks?" Healy asked quietly.

Deeks had to look away first in order to look down at his notes. He looked back up and keeping his voice level, he said, "There's a killer on the loose, Dr. Healy. I would suggest that we focus on that, and the fact that Molina only murdered one person instead of two. The science doesn't lie."

"The maybe you should join the forensics department, since law clearly isn't your strong suit. We look at what has been presented in the reports, not at the science, Mr. Deeks. You didn't follow the assignment, and therefore I am going to have to wipe your participation marks for today."

Deeks couldn't contain himself any longer, the pressure of the day, and of two years' worth of bullying building up and spilling over. "I looked at the facts and they didn't add up, so I went digging for the truth. You should be thanking me. This could save Molina double the sentence and you know it."

"I have a strict policy about following the assignment, Mr. Deeks," Healy said coldly, his disdain for Deeks vividly etched in his face, "and you didn't follow it. We are not the police, we are lawyers. We do not go 'digging', we fight the case. Get that into your head, Mr. Deeks, or you may not find yourself with a job after graduation. And to clear up any confusion, that was indeed a threat."

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Chelsea burst out, followed by a number of their classmates. They had been witness to the sparring matches between the two men for the better part of their two years in law school, and apparently today was also a boiling point for many of them.

Amidst the chatter, Deeks gathered his backpack and the case files and stood up. He was done fighting, and any further argument would only hurt him more. The class quieted down a little when he reached the front of the room. He dumped the case files onto Healy's desk and turned to leave.

Healy's voice followed him, "Class is not over, Mr. Deeks."

Deeks didn't even turn around. He opened the door, letting in the early evening sunshine, and he said, "It is for me."

Kensi wasn't ready to go home and face Monica. She knew that telling her about the conversation with Ms. Lange—Hetty—would start an argument. Monica was a worrier, the maternal figure of their group of friends, and her need to protect everyone was innate and had been the cause of a number of arguments whenever Kensi brought up the idea of law enforcement. Kensi didn't want to imagine what kind of argument would ensue once she told Monica about actually being accepted.

Not only did Kensi not want to go home to tell Monica, but she also really didn't know whether she wanted to accept the offer. It was her dream, of course, and the obvious decision was to accept, but it was also a big move. This would be the first big step she'd take after college and Kensi felt like this was one of those moments that could make or break her future. She wanted to make the right decision. For as reckless as she could be, Kensi wanted to take her time with this one.

Rather than going home, Kensi found herself pulling into the parking lot at the beach and climbing up the dunes behind the surf shack. There was a path that led up to a cliff face that looked over the ocean. It was usually very private and isolated, and one of her favorite places to go to think.

She sat in the sand at the top and looked out over the ocean. The sun was starting to set and while the waves were perfect for surfing, there were very few surfers out on the water or on the sand. She hadn't even walked by the surf shack, so she didn't know who was working, but she found herself wishing that she could talk to Deeks. No one but him knew that she was hoping to be a federal agent. She honestly didn't know why she'd told him; she barely knew him. But having someone to talk to, to ask for advice and reassurance, it would be nice right about now.

So Kensi did what she always did, she tried to think about what her father would tell her. It was part of the reason she loved this spot. It was the kind of place her father would have enjoyed and she felt closer to him here, not only by how high it was, but in the proximity to the ocean and the exposure to the wind and the sun. Kensi had spent most of her childhood at the beach or in forest campgrounds or even in the small backyards of their various houses. Her father had believed in the connection of oneself to the elements and while Kensi wasn't fully invested in that belief, she always felt solace when she was outdoors. She felt more connected somehow, so maybe there was something to be said about it.

She blew out a breath and watched the horizon. The sun wasn't so low yet that she was staring directly at it, but it was getting close, and she squinted against it. She had a future, she realized. She'd been dreaming about having a future, of course, but it had all been so uncertain until this point. Now, it was right there and all she had to do was grab it. Her father would have probably told her to take it. This was a once in a lifetime opportunity. It was rare for them to come to you, if that ever happened. This could be the rest of her life. A job with NCIS in Los Angeles, close to Monica and her adoptive family, and all her friends; it was perfect, really. Kensi sighed. She didn't know what was causing this apprehension, this block, but it was there and the excuses were building up quickly.

Deeks pulled up to the beach, got out of his car, and slammed the door. He wasn't one to get angry; he'd learned to control his emotions from a young age. And now, he was trying desperately not to let his frustration show. He got his board out of the back and grabbed his wetsuit, changing quickly in the parking lot. Then he ran down the sand without even warming up or waving to whoever was working the shack. He hit the water hard, paddling out as fast and hard as he could. He channeled all of his pent up anger at Healy into the water. He felt the salt spray and the wind hit his face, cooling the hatred and embarrassment, enveloping him in the only solace he knew.

A wave came up in front of him and Deeks ducked below it, sliding along his board like a fish, hearing only the dull roar of the wave riding over him before surfacing again and breathing deeply. The quiet moment beneath the water snapped him out of it and his anger started to fade. He was still breathing fast, trying to quell the emotions, but the moment of silence, away from the world, served to relax him, as it usually did. Deeks sat on his board in the water, straddling it and watching the orange horizon. What was he going to do? Healy was clearly in the wrong, but there was no way he was going to let Deeks back into his class after this. And Deeks wasn't going to entertain the thought of fighting it; Healy had the upper hand in this one and there was no use arguing. He was one of the best lawyers in the state for a reason.

Deeks caught the next wave, turning and paddling with it before pushing himself onto the board, focusing solely on the motions, forgetting everything except the water and the wind and where he was standing on the board. His mind was on the ride, the thrill, and it wasn't the greatest wave, but giving into his instincts felt good. He cut the top of the wave, turning furiously before coming back down and diving in when the wave died out. He resurfaced and paddled back out without taking a break.

A new surfer had run down the beach, the figure entering the water with a splash. Kensi watched, impressed as he surfed wave after wave without taking a break, hitting every single one without mistake. Her thoughts of the job offer turned to thoughts of her father, the memories riding the wave of emotions building inside of her. He had never taught her how to surf. She remembered when she was very young, going to the beach with her parents in Texas and her father taking a surfboard and Kensi wanting so badly to get out on it. Her mother deemed it unsafe; she was afraid of the water, or of what was in the water, Kensi didn't know. Either way, she didn't let Kensi go farther than her waist, even with her father there. As Kensi had gotten older, trips to the beach became fewer and fewer, and by the time her mother left, her father was working more often, with less time to take Kensi on excursions. Now, watching the surfers, sitting in her spot, Kensi felt the nostalgic longing to learn how to surf. It was a strange feeling, one she hadn't felt in a very long time, and it pricked in her chest, causing tears to burn behind her eyes. She hastily looked away from the water and gripped the sand in her hands, trying not to surrender to tears. What a day she was having, bouncing from emotion to emotion. As she pondered this, the biggest of emotion of them all came to the surface, no matter how hard she tried not to think about it. About him. But Jack was as constant in everything she thought about as her father, and her feelings of betrayal and guilt were never far behind the image of his face in her mind.

Before she could think too much harder about it, and before the feelings could overwhelm her and break her carefully constructed façade, Kensi stood up and briskly brushed the sand off her clothes, tucking the business card carefully back in her pocket before making her way back down the dune, furiously swiping away the few tears that managed to escape.

Deeks surfed until his body couldn't take it anymore. By then, his mind couldn't take the anger anymore, either. He was exhausted and just wanted to go home and fall into bed and not think about what the next day would bring. It had to be better than today, didn't it?

He waded out of the water and plopped his board into the sand before peeling his wetsuit down to his waist. The sun was nearly to the horizon and the shadows were starting to lengthen, cooling the sand and the air. As the wind hit Deeks' wet skin, he shivered slightly, goosebumps rising on his arms. He unstrapped his board from his ankle and carried it up the beach to his car, where he dried off with a towel, threw on a t-shirt, and stowed the board back in the trunk.

Deeks got into the car and started it up, thankful that it was still warm on the inside. He checked his rearview quickly and pulled out, itching to get home. The squeal of tires and a horn honking angrily had him stepping on the brake immediately.

Kensi had seen the little car preparing to back out, but she hadn't expected it to shoot out so fast, and it was thanks to her trained reflexes that she stopped so quickly, or she most definitely would have hit the other car. She honked her horn and the brake lights on the car lit up and then turned off as the driver put the car into park, signaling that he or she was allowing Kensi to go first.

Kensi huffed and tentatively let up on the brakes. The car rolled forward and she was just about to turn her head to look forward when she saw a head of blonde curls peek out of the window. "You have got to be kidding me," she muttered to herself. Of course it was him. Why had she thought any different?

She braked again and rolled down the passenger window. "Running into me can only go so far," she called.

Deeks leaned farther out his window and grinned when he saw her. Kensi rolled her eyes, but her chest felt significantly lighter at that smile.

He got out of his car and came up to the open window, leaning in. The smell of fresh saltwater joined him. "You know, we should probably just exchange numbers so we can plan to run into each other rather than by accident," he said with a cheeky grin.

"Smooth," Kensi told him, but she grabbed her phone out of the center console and handed it over.

He held his hand out tentatively, as if she were going to pull hers away at the last second. "Really? I was just joking. Well, kind of."

"You might want to do it before I change my mind," Kensi replied.

Deeks took the phone and entered his number. He handed it back after a few moments and said, "I texted myself so I have your number, too."

"Smart."

"I know." He grinned again. He tended to do that. A lot. Kensi's stomach flipped, which it tended to do whenever he grinned. And since he grinned pretty much incessantly, her stomach seemed to be perpetually in knots.

"What are you doing down here this late?" Deeks asked, leaning farther into the car. A few drops of water dripped from his hair onto the passenger seat.

Kensi thought for a second about telling him the truth, like she'd wanted to do earlier, but now that seemed like a stupid idea. "I was on my way home from training and wanted a break and some fresh air before I go burry myself in homework." Not a total lie, but far enough from the truth to be safe.

"Training as in gun training?" Deeks said, his eyes lighting up. "You know you still owe me a shooting lesson?"

"I said I'd think about it," Kensi corrected him. "And yes, I was shooting today."

"That's why it smells like gunpowder in here," Deeks said, sniffing theatrically.

Kensi shook her head at him and then furrowed her brow. "How do you know what gunpowder smells like if you've never shot a gun?"

The surprise in his face was fleeting, but Kensi caught it. She raised an eyebrow at him, questioning him silently. He scratched the back of his head and looked down at the ground. "I never said I hadn't shot a gun before," he said. "Just that I'd always wanted to learn."

Kensi nodded thoughtfully, choosing not to question him further, but still wondering what on earth that could mean. He respected her secrets, though, so she was going to respect his, whatever they were.

He looked up and smiled cautiously. "So?"

"So what?"

"Are you going to come through on your promise?"

"I never promised you anything!" Kensi exclaimed. She looked at his wet hair, which was curling as it dried, and then at the water, where the last surfers were heading home. A smile started to form on her face.

Deeks looked at her out of the corner of his eye suspiciously. "Why are you smiling?"

"I'll make you a deal," Kensi said.

"I'm listening."

She took a deep breath, summoning her courage before jumping in. "I'll teach you how to shoot, if you teach me how to surf."

Deeks' eyebrows quirked up. "You want to learn how to surf?"

Kensi nodded seriously. "I've never done it before."

Deeks shrugged and smiled easily before holding out a hand. "Deal."

Taken aback by his easy acceptance, Kensi leaned across the center console and shook his hand. "Deal."

Kensi released his hand first and smiled at him, a childish excitement taking over her and giving her more courage than she knew what to do with. "When are you free?"

Deeks thought for a second before he said, "Saturday? I have shift at the shack until 2, but I'm good after that."

Kensi scrolled through her mental schedule and then answered, "Saturday's good. And the training course is open to the public on Tuesdays, and I can get you into the shooting range if you're good then."

Tuesday was a week from today, and the rational part of Deeks was telling him that he should go to Healy's class next week and put on a face, but the part of him that liked adventures—and liked Kensi—was telling him that skipping class would be a welcome reprieve from being bullied next week. He nodded. "Yeah, I'm free."

Kensi looked at her watch and said. "I really should be getting home. So, 2 on Saturday?"

Deeks nodded and grinned. "2 on Saturday," he repeated.

Kensi smiled back and Deeks leaned away from the car, waving as she drove away, a goofy grin lighting up his face.