a/n: Thank you to those who encouraged/pestered me to keep going. Mission accomplished ;)
"Nice work, Deeks," says Detective Burton, patting him on the back. Two officers with arms full of evidence boxes pass behind them and they sidestep to get out of the way.
Deeks nods in response. "I'm just glad it's over."
"Now comes the fun part."
"A week's worth of paperwork?"
"I was going to say 'beer and sleep,' but whatever gets your rocks off." His cell rings and he digs it out of his pocket. "This is Burton."
Deeks glances to the street, watching as the last member of the crew is loaded into a squad car. If looks could kill, Deeks would be vaporized. He gives the guy a big, toothy grin and waves.
"Sure, yeah." Burton holds the phone out to Deeks. "Parker wants to talk to you."
Deeks takes the phone and holds it to his ear. "Hey."
"You're alive."
He makes a disgusted sound, but he's smiling. "Like you care. I come out the other side of a five-week undercover operation and you didn't even show up for the takedown. I almost died in the crossfire."
"I had a nail appointment."
He swipes his arm across his forehead to brush away some sweat. "Oh, well, in that case."
"Listen, there was a call in about two minutes ago."
"Was it your conscience?"
"It was NCIS. There was an explosion at a mansion in Beachwood canyon. There were casualties."
"Who?"
"I don't know, but I figured -"
"Thanks, Parker."
He ends the call and feels his fingers working through the familiar pattern of her number. It goes straight to voicemail. His pulse is still racing from the takedown, but the thought of Kensi in danger sends it even higher. Heart lodged firmly in his throat, he punches in the number for ops.
Eric picks up on the second ring. "Uh, hello?"
"Is Kensi okay?"
"Deeks, hey! Um, we don't know exactly? She was undercover at this shady guy's house and his shady business associates showed up and then all of a sudden we lost contact and then like seconds later the boom came and we haven't heard from her since."
The boom. The words echo in Deeks' ear before pulsing out over fingers clenched too tightly around a phone he can no longer feel. "The casualties?"
"Oh! No, she's not one of the bodies."
"Next time, Eric…" He lets out a breath. "Next time, lead with that."
"Right. That makes sense."
"So, she's missing?" He runs a hand through his hair, pacing away from Burton, who's giving him a questioning look.
"I can't say? I mean, I can say, but I'm not sure Hetty wants me discussing open cases. Any more than I already have, anyway. Hey, can we maybe not mention this call to -"
"Eric."
"Don't worry, Deeks. They'll find her."
If that's supposed to be reassuring, it doesn't even come close. Deeks hangs up the phone, tosses it to Burton and starts toward the nearest squad car.
"Everything okay, man?" Burton calls after him.
Deeks doesn't turn around as he answers. "I'm going to go find out."
Hetty stands outside the mission, hands clasped together in front of her. The sound of an engine draws closer and she notes the time. He's a few minutes earlier than she expected, but it doesn't surprise her in the least.
"Mr. Deeks," she says as he steps out of his car.
"Is she -"
Hetty shakes her head. "No news, I'm afraid."
He slams his door firmly, determination carved into his features. He's all worked up and ready for an argument, knuckles white at this side. "I'm helping you find her."
She nods once and opens the large, wooden door, gesturing for him to precede her. She watches as his expression turns from one of challenge to confusion.
"I expect that will be more efficient than leaving you to conduct a search on your own."
Deeks heads to the bullpen. The team's there, staring at images splashed across a large screen. There's a map and some surveillance stills. No images of Kensi.
"King is cleaning house," Callen says. "He's gotten rid of his entire crew, including Patricia."
Sam nods. "Everyone but Kensi."
Deeks steps into the workspace and three heads swivel in his direction. "Maybe he's on to you."
Callen scrunches up his nose as he frowns. "Did you just come from the sewer?"
"I was undercover."
"In the sewer?"
He knows he should take the casual attitude of Kensi's teammate as encouragement, but right now it just pisses him off. "Where is she?"
"We don't know, exactly," Nell says as Hetty joins them. "We think King threw her in the pool to save her from the blast and then escaped on a fire road."
"As a hostage," Deeks concludes.
"Either that," Sam says, "or he needs her for her skills."
Callen looks like he's just put the final piece in place. "For one last job."
"He told Patricia the job was cancelled," Nell says.
"No," Sam shakes his head, "he told her he no longer needed her services. He didn't say the job was cancelled."
"So, wait," Deeks tries to puzzle it out, sifting through the scraps of information he's gotten. "Kensi's undercover with some guy who needs her for a job, which they're probably in the process of completing right now. The people he used for his previous job are currently black streaks across what's left of his mansion walls. Am I up to date?"
"I got it," Eric says, crossing into the bullpen, and Deeks feels hope creeping in. "King received an email from Li Tan, the Chinese spy whose belongings are being held at the warehouse."
Eric grabs the tablet from Nell and punches a few keys, bringing Tan's email up on top of the map. "This was sent two days ago. It's a blank message with an attachment." He hits a few more keys and another image appears. "This Chinese dragon."
Deeks frowns at the screen. So the job is that? "Seems like a lot of work for a tacky, green dragon statue."
"Unless," Hetty says, pointing at the screen, "it isn't the dragon statue, but what's inside."
Sam echoes Callen's earlier conclusion. "One last job."
Callen climbs into the passenger seat of the SUV as Deeks slides into the back and slams the door. It's weird to have Deeks coming along on an op that has nothing to do with LAPD - coming just because he's Kensi's boyfriend. At least, it should be weird. But somehow it doesn't actually feel weird. Callen finds himself almost glad Deeks is there. He doesn't quite know what to think about that.
"Where's Renko?" Deek asks.
Callen clicks his seat belt into place. "Not coming."
"Why not?"
Sam starts the engine and throws the car into drive. "Because he's not part of the team anymore."
"He was fired?"
"Reassigned," says Sam. "He was only a temp."
"So where's her new partner?"
They take a corner too quickly and Callen has to brace himself against the door. "She doesn't have one."
"Doesn't," Deeks stumbles as they take another corner, "how doesn't she have a partner?"
"A new one hasn't come yet," he answers, remembering the last time Kensi was in the market for a partner. Talk about scenarios he wants to avoid. He feels like he's staring down the gauntlet of a never-ending migraine.
"So she's out there alone all the time?"
Callen twists on his seat to look at Deeks. "Aren't you out there alone all the time?"
"Yeah but..."
"Kensi's a great agent."
"I know that," Deeks says, and Callen knows it's true. He's never seen Deeks doubt or underestimate Kensi in the field. "But someone should be watching her back."
"Yeah," Callen agrees, turning back to the front. "Someone should."
Probably someone should be watching Deeks' back too.
When Callen yells, "Freeze!" Kensi practically jumps out of her skin.
"Put your hands where we can see them!" says Sam, and relief starts washing over her. She knew her team would come eventually, but she's been in knots for hours. Her body's so tense she thinks she might shatter.
"You good, Kens?"
She pulls the ski mask off her face and takes a breath for what feels like the first time in forever. "Better now."
She reaches over to relieve King of his mask, tossing it onto a crate before stepping up to rejoin her team, shedding this stranger's skin as she moves toward them and becoming herself again.
In retrospect, she'll blame that moment of transition for her complete and utter failure to behave like a federal agent.
When she turns her back on him, King's arm wraps around her neck, yanking her back and pulling her into him as he presses his gun to the side of her head.
His breath is hot on her ear. "Let me go or she's dead."
"Drop the weapon," Callen orders as he and Sam move for cover. "You've got nowhere to run."
But he doesn't have to run, Kensi knows. He just has to back her slowly away until they get -
"Drop it!"
King swings them around to face the new voice.
Deeks. He's standing there in the glow of the low lights and she can't see his face but she can see his weapon, raised and ready. She has no idea how he's here or why he's here but she's never been happier to see him.
And she really, really wants to be out of this hold.
"Will one of you shoot this guy?"
"Stay there!" King yells, and he fires, dragging her back and away from her team.
She takes advantage of his position, slamming her hand into his extended forearm to knock the gun loose. When the weapon drops she thrusts her elbow into his side but he grabs her, pushing her off-balance. She falls forward, righting herself and pivoting around to try and land a punch - but it's his fist that connects with her jaw, sending her to the floor.
"Nice try," King says.
She blinks back into focus in time to see Deeks charging toward them. She doesn't remember him being quite so fast, yet he covers the ground between his cover position and King as though the fate of the world depends on him. He wraps a hand around King's shoulder, spinning him around roughly. Before King can react, Deeks' fist crashes squarely into his unmasked face, knocking him to the ground.
"See that right there?" Deeks says, pinning King in place with his sidearm. "That's for hitting Kensi."
Sam and Callen approach and she pulls herself to her feet, cradling her aching jaw. "Like you said, the job has its hazards."
She looks away from King, her eyes landing on Deeks. The relief she felt earlier is nothing compared to what she's feeling now.
"Ow." He flexes his hand and smiles at her. "That really hurts, huh?"
She shakes her head and smiles.
Deeks leans against Kensi's desk as Sam and Callen's voices fade away down the hall. "Can I drive you home?"
"My car's here," she says, pushing out of her chair. "But you can follow me."
He snorts. "Fat chance of that. Mario Andretti couldn't follow you."
"See, I set you up for an ass joke and you go and make fun of my driving."
"Well, the fact that your backside is my ideal view didn't need to be verbalized. That was established long ago."
She rolls her eyes.
"Oh, Mr. Deeks?" Hetty's voice floats over to him and he sends up a quick prayer that his own voice didn't carry quite so well. "May I have a moment please?"
He exchanges a look with Kensi. She shrugs. Super helpful.
Kensi steps around her desk, reaches out and squeezes his hand. "I'll meet you at my place."
He nods and makes his way over to Hetty's desk, more than a little trepidation in his step. She may not have any actual authority over him, but it still feels like he's going to see the principal.
"What can I do for you, Hetty?"
She gestures to her visitor's chair and waits for him to sit in it. "I wanted to thank you for your assistance today."
"Thank you for letting me tag along."
She purses her lips. "From what Mr. Hanna and Mr. Callen reported, you did more than merely 'tag along.'"
"I did land a pretty solid punch," he admits, a grin forming at in the corners of his mouth. One of the more satisfying punches in recent history.
"That you did, Mr. Deeks." He thinks he sees the ghost of a smile. "That you did."
Kensi puts her empty beer on the coffee table and lays back against the couch. She turns her head to the side and watches Deeks as he finishes his dinner. They've only been home for thirty minutes - long enough for him to bathe and her to wrap his hand before digging into their takeout. His hair's still wet from the shower, the collar of his grey t-shirt darkening as water drips from the ends.
"I wish I could really kiss you."
She says it so quietly she's not even sure he can hear her, but he does, leaning over to drop a kiss on her nose. He smells like turkey burger and shampoo and cheap, domestic beer.
"God, Kens, I missed you," he says, pulling her toward him with a bandaged hand. "I feel like I've been gone for a year."
She missed him. She missed him so damn much. And just having him with her again, here, on her couch, is the best feeling.
But she still wants to cry.
She tucks her legs under her and folds into his side. Monty stirs beside her, circling once before resettling directly on top of her feet. She reaches for him, gently scratching the top of his head, her mind replaying the day in sepia tones.
She thinks about Asher; watches it happen it in her head for the millionth time. She wonders again if there was anything she could have done. There wasn't, she knows. She didn't see it coming. Just like she didn't see the explosion coming.
But could she have seen it coming? Should she have seen it? How many lives that were lost today could have been saved if she hadn't underestimated King? If she had figured out what was going to happen and done something to prevent it?
"I know you probably had a really shitty five weeks, but," she swipes at her eyes when she realizes she's crying, "I had a really shitty day."
He holds her a little tighter.
"How do you do it? How do you stay out there, alone, being someone other than yourself for so long? How do you survive?"
"I spent a long time being someone else. There wasn't a lot of reason to be me." She feels him give a little shrug. "I'm good at it."
She wonders, not for the first time, about his past. Wonders if she'll ever know what it really entailed. She wonders if she'll ever be brave enough to ask.
"It's not easy," he says after a moment. "It's never easy. It just becomes more familiar. More of a habit."
"I'm not used to being alone."
He shifts her in his arms so he can see her face. "How long has Renko been gone?"
"A week." It's been crappy. She missed Deeks at home and Renko at work and she's the third wheel to Sam and Callen and she's already getting files on potential new agents from Hetty and she hates it. She hates it all. And it hasn't been that long.
"How am I going to find a new partner? Find someone I can trust?" Her jaw aches and her head is starting to blur. She drops her head onto his chest as he starts to rub soothing circles on her arm.
"Well there's no one quite as badass as you, but I'm sure there's someone out there who's capable of fighting by your side."
"Sometimes," she admits, eyes fluttering closed, "I wish you could be my partner."
His body tenses for a moment and she worries she's said the wrong thing. But before she can vocalize her concern, he relaxes again and resumes his soft ministrations. The words slip out, nearly unheard, as he says the only thing she really wants to hear.
"Me too."