It's Christmas in California
And it's hard to ignore that it feels like summer all the time
But I'll take a west coast winter to remove my splinters
It's good to be alive

The cheers, the lights, and the buzz of the season fill the dark Spanish Mission that night, the last working day before their planned holiday vacations. Deeks has been waiting for a moment to slip away from the crowd, and Eric's recounting of the time he played the Ghost of Christmas Past in his eighth grade Christmas play is the perfect time to escape. Sneaking around his desk, he picks up the yellow folder resting atop it and heads towards Hetty's desk.

He drops the folder on before her with a soft plop, loud enough to seem pointed but quiet enough not to startle the older woman. Her eyes rise slowly to his and he twists his lips. "This was on my desk this morning."

Hetty nods. "And?"

"And I already have a copy of the federal agent application locked up in my desk from when you gave it to me 5 years ago."

"Yes, well." She taps the folder. "They have...updated the application. This one is current."

"Current," he repeats with a sigh.

"Yes, Mr. Deeks. Things change."

Glancing at his coworkers, sans Sam, Deeks stretches his arms and settles into the seat in front of Hetty's desk. She's a cryptic little devil, and being at eye level with her helps him when trying to judge what she really means when she utters a sentence. What Hetty says can rarely be taken at face value. "And by things, you mean..." he points back and forth between them. "This?"

She ignores the question. "I would strongly encourage you to complete the application this time."

Or what, he wonders. In a way, Hetty has him under her control now. She's still the only one that knows the entire truth about his part in the death of his former partner. She's the one who saved his ass and could just as easily fry it if it was necessary for her own self-preservation. It scares Deeks a little that he understands her, and can even think like her. "And if I don't?"

Hetty merely raises an eyebrow.

"Why does this oddly feel like blackmail..." Deeks muses, half jokingly. But the thought legitimately entered his mind.

"Your recent circumstances have made you paranoid, Detective. I'm merely offering this advice for your own protection. You're still on Detective Whiting's radar, and you could be randomly selected by Internal Affairs for questioning as long as you remain in their system. Out of sight, out of mind, if you will." She smiles tightly. "And I can't guarantee that I can save you the next time one of your skeletons decides to escape from your closet."

He clenches his jaw and drops his gaze to his hands, watching as he fists them tightly. It's a reflex he can't control, much like so many aspects of his life. Including his career now, it seems. "I still don't understand why you want me, Hetty. I didn't see it 6 years ago and I don't see it now."

Her smile softens. "You have a certain...quality, that I appreciate."

A quality. Ruthless? Deadly? The ability to completely disconnect and do whatever is necessary? Certainly she didn't mean his sense of humor. She rarely appreciates that. Maybe the qualities she sees in him are the same ones she sees in herself?

He reaches for the folder and pulls it to his lap, taking in the contents for what they were - his future, whether he was ready for it or not. "It seems wrong to do this now, somehow. I've waited so long, and I don't know that fear is the right reason to make this leap."

"I see." Reaching for her tumbler of bourbon, Hetty purses her lips together. "Just as sometimes we have to choose to do the wrong thing for the right reasons, we also must choose to do the right thing for the wrong reasons."

Deeks can hear Kensi cackling with her obnoxious laugh, and figures Eric's story must be over. No way it could have been that funny, so Nell must have begun her own raucous tale. Even from afar, her laugh gives him strength. It's one of the reasons he hasn't been able to admit his overwhelming guilt to her - now that he's had her in every way possible, he doesn't think he can ever be around her without continuing to have everything. Fear currently has a stranglehold on every aspect of his life, from his relationship to his job to just his very existence. He's suffocating.

"You look like you want to get something off your chest, Mr. Deeks."

"I do," he replies softly. "I'm going to tell her the truth. Just don't know when or how. And now this, this is one more thing to tell her about."

"I believe she and the rest of your team will be proud of you." That thought makes his heart flutter, because even if he doesn't feel that it's necessarily deserved, acceptance is a feeling he craves. "And you will have plenty of time to figure out how to handle your demons while you're away."

"Uh, away?" His voice squeaks. No shame in that, though. "I don't think I need to remind you of your track record when you send people 'away'."

"Tread lightly," Hetty warns, though he doesn't take it very seriously. She's already proven she'll let him get away with murder, and his smartass snark is nothing compared to that. "Federal Law Enforcement Training. The next training course begins January 2. You are already registered and your flight has been reserved."

"Short notice," Deeks laments. "But...okay." Some space away from all of this could help provide some clarity and perspective. And maybe a tiny voice in his head told him this would make it easier for him to run away if Kensi can't forgive him for his deception. Spain, Japan, hell, even an aircraft carrier. He's always wanted to see the world.

He opens the folder and pulls out his typed resignation, first reviewing it for errors and then signing his full name. Then he skims the application, noting the differences from the one he stores in his desk. New home address, much more experience, but still the same person as his number one reference - Henrietta Lange. The calculating woman he once trusted completely, who shattered his trust, and is now worming her way back into his good graces. They all need redemption from time to time, but the two of them most of all.

"Merry Christmas, Hetty." Martin A. Deeks, he scrolls. Standing up, he deposits the papers on her desk with a sad smile. Kensi has been pushing him to become an agent for years. Hopefully this will make up for his inability to get her a ridiculous baby tiger for Christmas. It won't make up for some things, though. He really just wants her to be happy for a little while before...

"And Merry Christmas to you, too, Mr. Deeks."