That night in the privacy of their twin room Callen apologised to Deeks and Deeks accepted. He still wasn't entirely convinced as to Callen's reasons but he had witnessed Stone emerge from hiding and follow Callen. He knew Callen had give him an open invitation to return the punch but he was unsure if that was really in keeping with his own undercover alias. Billy to him, was a bit of a loser who couldn't form proper relationships no matter how desperate he was to have a normal family life, which explained his disastrous string of failed marriages. Billy had been a kid who'd ended up in foster care after shooting his father and had developed an unlikely attachment to a bad-ass kid three years older than him. Hetty had decided to play around with their ages to make the foster care stories work. Callen's alias Rob and his hard life made him look older than he really was; he was thirty eight and Billy was thirty five. Hetty was also keen on the idea of keeping Deeks' childhood similar to his own but again to make the ages work, Billy shot his father aged nine. His mother had suffered a nervous breakdown and could not care for her son. Deeks wasn't particularly fussed about his past being the basis for his alias but he would lay money that Hetty had suggested the same to Callen and Callen hadn't felt quite as comfortable. It certainly explained his earlier behaviour in the barn, even though it was perfect for both their aliases. Upon reflection, there was probably a warning in Callen's punch, even if the man would never admit it. He knew he was annoying. He knew Callen was annoying. It just seemed they decided to seriously annoy each other at the wrong moment - or the right moment - for their aliases. Deeks tenderly poked his cut lip with his tongue. It was nothing, he'd had a lot worse. He pulled the blanket up round his neck and closed his eyes, smiling suddenly and wincing with the slight pain it caused. Revenge would be so sweet. Callen could at times be extremely lazy and he had witnessed him worm out of paperwork and all types of physical activities at NCIS. This was a working ranch after all and Callen looked like he needed some exercise.

Despite his best intentions, Callen had been volunteered - by Deeks of course - for a number of physical duties, most of which involved the painstaking renovation of a rather dilapidated brick outbuilding. As soon as the first excuses left Callen's mouth, Stone, Lyneham and Raider made sure he was part of the team that would work daily to complete the task. Callen swore long and loud, cursing Deeks even more after the younger man made a point of touching his lip and making sad puppy dog eyes. It was a move that did not go unnoticed by the men, who seemed highly amused and even more determined to force their new buddy in to physical activity. Callen may have openly resented the underhand move but he was secretly grateful. He would now be spending all day every day in the company of the men he believed were behind the home grown terrorism. The one piece of the puzzle he was nowhere close to understanding was Ariel. He was a patient man - well sometimes - and he had complete confidence that if his alias played his cards right, Ariel would come to him.

The old outbuilding was located a mile to the south of the main ranch and nine men including Callen, jumped in a pick-up truck for the short ride. The sun's rays were already beating down and the clock hadn't yet ticked round to nine. Callen climbed out as the truck pulled to a halt and joined the men as they gathered just inside the building, keen to make the most of the shade before starting work.

'Guys.' Lyneham addressed the men. 'So far we've renovated the main house and several nearby barns and converted one set of stables into rooms. This outhouse is next. It's gonna provide storage facilities and needs to be water tight and secure. There's also an underground storage area that needs work done on it so it's gonna be all hands to the pump every day until it's finished. We'll split into groups of three. Raider, you and Rob and will be with me, we'll clear all the crap so we can make a start on the interior. Stone, take Brad and Chet to start repairing the exterior brick work. And you three need to get up on the roof. I need a survey done before we can begin the repairs as I'll have to place an order with Ariel for roofing tiles. Oh, and there's a delivery due in about an hour which we'll need to move inside.'

'Can't see Ariel accepting any orders from you, boss,' Raider grinned at Lyneham.

'Yeah, well we're only renovating this place now coz she wants it secure inside, outside and underground.' Lyneham replied.

'I thought you ran this place?' Callen piped up, genuinely interested to hear the answer. As soon he and Deeks had been introduced to Ariel, it was clear there was an underlying power struggle between the two. His comments caused a ripple of amusement through the men.

'Josh runs this place but DuValle pulls his strings. He was the one who brought Ariel in about four months ago.' Stone answered.

'She's the whole package.' Raider continued. 'Looks, money, brains, brawn...'

'Just missing a personality.' Chet added, causing more sniggers and comments.

'DuValle is not all he thinks he is Stone, you know that. But Ariel's presence means we can keep accepting nut jobs like you Rob, and that brother of yours.' Lyneham said.

'Gee, thanks.' Callen replied with a straight face.

'Yeah' Stone added. 'Don't think we don't know went on with you two yesterday. You smashed him up for no reason.'

Callen looked offended and took a threatening step towards Stone. 'It was a tiny slap and it wasn't for no reason, he deserved it. What's it to you anyway?'

Stone took a pace back and started laughing. 'Y'know, I like your spirit. You'll go far here.'

'What?'

'You'll see...'

'Are you always this cryptic?

'Only when I need to be.'

'OK boys,' Lyneham drew the banter to a close. 'This building ain't gonna renovate itself. Let's get moving.'

With the order given, the men moved to their allotted groups and activities. Clearing the interior of the outbuilding was not as easy as it should have been. Lyneham gave Callen and Raider a quick overview of the building's layout. It was basically three quarters the size of the main ranch and comprised of several interior walls. Towards the rear were steps that led to a loft space and tucked underneath several large and rusty tractors was the hatch to the underground area. Callen likened it to a brick built barn rather than an outbuilding. It was meant to be sturdy and secure but the loft area reminded him of when he had once hidden from a very angry foster father. He gazed at the ladder which led upwards, temporarily lost in the past.

'Y'know,' Lyneham's voice jolted Callen back to the present. 'I remember once having to hide under the straw when I was a kid.'

'What? Some broad's angry pa after you with a pitch fork?' Raider slapped the men on the shoulders and was rewarded with a poisonous look from both. He held his hands up in apology and backed away, muttering something about people no longer having a sense of humour.

'Yeah, I once had to hide in the loft of a barn.'

Lyneham laughed softly. 'I bet that had nothing to do with a girl or her father either.'

'No.'

'I was living with this family on a farm and the foster dad accused me of taking his car for a joyride.'

A smile tweaked at Callen's lips. 'I was accused of stealing twenty bucks from my foster mom's purse. Bastard hauled me down from the loft. Landed on the hay and got the belt for lying, stealing and hiding.'

Lyneham smiled knowingly. 'Bet you took that money too.'

'Damn right I did, how else was I gonna leave some shit-hole farm in the middle of nowhere. Bet you took that car too. It drive well?'

'Nah, piece of junk barely made it back from town.'

Callen's smile broadened. 'I never realised you were in the system.'

'Well Rob, I made the choice to leave my old life behind. I changed my name, my attitude, and managed to enrol in the navy. And you know what? Turns out I was so institutionalised I made most of the same fuck ups I would have if I hadn't made that change. I just swapped one system for another. Don't you feel that too? The social welfare system conditioned you to think and feel a certain way, that you're worthless, unwanted, a drain on society. They impose rules on you, dictating where you live and how you live, restrict your possessions and subject you to all types of abuse. And then what happens, we join gangs, the military - hell, I even knew one kid who joined a cult. Guys like us, we just exchange one type of institution for another and pretend we've moved on.'

Callen listened to Lyneham's words. There seemed to be no bitterness behind them, he was just stating the facts as he saw them. It wasn't the first time Callen had heard such rhetoric. Sam had once told him the reason he hated all bureaucrats as an adult, was because of how they had pushed him from one foster home to the next when he was a child. It was true. As a child Callen had developed a contempt for authority which had stayed with him in adulthood. He now had a natural aversion to doing as he was told and was suspicious of - well - everyone. He may never have actually served in the military, despite numerous aliases that had, but he had served his country in the employ of some of the most famous alphabet agencies. They were institutions in themselves and he worked where ever they sent him. Callen had no idea what he would do if he left the service of the government. He'd probably just drift along and hope he didn't develop in to an alias such as Rob. That's of course, provided he didn't die on the job.

Callen shook his head. 'You are one intriguing man Josh. I've never thought of it like that before. I guess no matter how much I crave freedom I don't actually know how to live outside the system.'

'It's true, look at your brother. Billy can't function in the world. From what I can gather he just drifts from one relationship to another, unable to settle down and form roots. At least you tried to give yourself a chance with a career in the military. And y'know, all it does is mask the problems. There's no magic cure. Once you leave foster care no one gives a crap, same as now. You have problems, the Government washes it's hand of you. If I'm not in the system, it's like I don't exist.'

Callen couldn't quite bring himself to smile even inwardly at the irony of his own words. He knew he had been lucky, very lucky, and that meant he could understand that to a certain degree Lyneham had a valid point.

'Sometimes you need to fight to get the attention you deserve. Like when we were kids.' Lyneham continued.

'I think I just got attention because of my fighting,' Callen said.

'Well Rob, this is what my ranch is all about. Giving ourselves a voice and making ourselves heard. And making sure those bastards pay attention and make changes.'

'How are you gonna do that?' Callen asked, sarcasm laced his voice. 'Go on a march in Washington? Wave a placard? Getting in to fights got me noticed when I was a kid, maybe you should do the same now?'

'That my friend, is exactly what we're doing.' Lyneham placed an arm around Callen's shoulder and led him back outside. 'All this is to secure everything we need to train and arm ourselves for a very persuasive campaign. I intend to get the Government to realise people are losing their homes, families and their sanity. The institutions of the welfare state and the military do not provide the support or funding needed. The quicker we finish this, the sooner we start to prepare.'

'That sounds like a plan. When?' Callen's eyes widened with understanding and reflected the emotions in Lyneham's face.

'Four weeks. It will be big and it will be loud. We'll be heard from east coast to west.'

'For Christ's sake you two,' Raider shouted. 'You're so cosy I'm a startin' to think you twos should get a room together. But then I got t'thinkin' that you bastards should actually help me work. I'm sure as hell not gonna do my job and yours...'

Deeks looked up from the couch and smiled. Callen looked wrecked. He had come in at about five, grabbed a beer from the fridge and headed straight for the shower. He now stood in the doorway, towel wrapped round his waist and a second beer in his hand.

'Wow,' Deeks started. 'You are really starting to look quite trim. Seems that homelessness, fresh air and physical work suits you.'

Callen swore and leaned against the doorframe.

'On the downside, your vocabulary has shrunk. Sure you're not destroying some brain cells with all that beer you're necking?'

In answer to Deeks' question, Callen drained the remainder of his bottle in one and walked to the kitchen, grabbing another two from the fridge, this time handing one to Deeks.

'That's better my friend.' The younger man smiled. 'So how was your day?'

Callen eased himself in to the arm chair, letting out a loud sigh as he sat.

'Exhausting. Yours?'

'Boring. I'm starting to feel like a spare part.'

'You'd better come and work with me then tomorrow.'

'Ah ah ah.' Deeks waved his finger back and forth. 'I see what you're doing there, tricking me in to actually having to do some work.'

'We're on a deadline - four weeks to finish the renovations before we prepare for something big.'

Still paranoid their apartment might be bugged, Callen gestured towards the door and the two moved outside, slowly walking away from the lodgings. They stopped about twenty meters away, before it looked too suspicious that Callen was wandering in to nearby paddocks wearing only a towel.

Speaking in low voices, Callen continued. 'We've got four weeks to get tight with this crew and work out where they're getting the weapons from. We also need to work out who Ariel is, how she's positioned herself at the top, what these militia connections are and how far they stretch.'

'Whoa, four weeks. And that's a lot of questions we have to answer. How'd that come about?'

Callen briefed Deeks on the events of the day and the conversations he'd had with Lyneham. He included his thoughts that Lyneham seemed to think that he was a kindred spirit due to a similar upbringing and life experiences. He also added that as Deeks' alias had been thrown in to the mix he now realised that no one would object to bringing Deeks in to the fold. The fact that he had no connections to the military was a moot point; it was the toughness of the men and their resolve, built through shared life experiences which created the bond on the ranch.

'So what about Ariel? I saw her around earlier.' Deeks asked. Callen may have eased his way in with the men but they both realised that Ariel was the key to infiltrating the true hierarchy.

'She was driving a truck that off loaded three heavy metal boxes earlier. No one checked what was inside and it took two men to move each of them into a corner of the barn.'

'The same one you're working on?'

'The very same. And no I don't think it would be wise to go take a peek. We're gaining their trust and in another few weeks or so we'll be part of their inner circle. We can wait. My guess is it contains weapons, but whether they've been stolen from a military base or provided by the Northern California Lightfoot Militia I don't know. We can get the wonder twins to check for missing shipments and any militia chatter when we check in with them later. The boxes must've been placed in the cellar as there was no sign of them later.'

'So what about Ariel?' Deeks repeated his earlier question, unsure how the subject had changed so quickly.

'She went off with Lyneham for a few minutes. When they returned she was holding a piece of paper which could just have been the order for roofing tiles. I did find out that Ariel was brought in by DuValle, not Lyneham. He's not real keen on her.'

'Yeah, I sorta gathered that yesterday. So if DuValle brought her in, that means he may be running this outfit. D'ya think he has some hold over Lyneham and is forcing him in to all this?'

'I'm not sure yet. Lyneham said he'd been brought up in care and changed his name to join the navy. We'll get Nell to check that out too. He must have had expert help with that as there was no indication of anomalies in his records. He and the others genuinely seem like decent men who've just been dealt a bad hand so maybe there is some leverage. '

As he uttered those final words Callen began to walk away from Deeks and headed back to their rooms. Deeks looked up sharply at Callen, following him back through the door and watching as he headed to the kitchen. He could not tell if he was serious. Callen had said he thought Lyneham believed his alias Rob was a kindred spirit, but Deeks was forming a solid suspicion that Callen - not his alias - was starting to bond with Lyneham. He had never worked with Callen on an undercover operation and in recent years the team had not embarked on many long term missions, Kensi's White Ghost assignment being the major exception. Deeks quietly observed Callen open the fridge door, seeing his hand hesitate before pulling out a chocolate bar. During an early case with the team, he had listened to Callen play chicken with a team of assassins employed by a Chechen terrorist. He had a gun pointed at him and had literally taken it down to the wire with the bad guys to see if he could hold his nerve or admitted to being a cop to save his life. Calling their bluff had saved him and allowed the case to move forward. Callen might be able to play it cool in extreme circumstances but Deeks had also seen him become emotionally attached and witnessed the repercussions. He had been stunned by Callen's reaction after a white supremacist was shot and killed. Callen had made a futile attempt to save his life and then afterwards walked away from the team, Sam included. Callen had received basic medical attention but refused to go to hospital. Instead he had returned to the Mission and taken off in his car without a word to anyone. Deeks had never asked why, although he knew Hetty had sent Sam to find and talk to him. He could only think that Callen had made a connection and maybe felt guilty. About what, Deeks was uncertain and he now had a feeling in his gut that the same could happen here.

'What?'

Callen's voice jolted Deeks back to the present.

'Uh?'

'You were staring at me. Why?'

'Um, nothing. It was nothing. I...you're good.'

'I know. Not so sure you are...'

Callen opened the fridge door again and grabbed another bar, throwing it at Deeks who managed to catch it just in time.

'Thanks.'

'You're welcome. I'm starving. Raider said it's southern fried chicken and fries tonight.'

'Raider?' Deeks suddenly smiled, deciding to conveniently place his concerns about Callen on hold. 'I like this idea of nicknames.' He stood with a flourish and held out his arms towards Callen. 'From this point forward, you will be known as Cowboy.'

'Cowboy?'

'Well apart from your love of country and western music, which I happen to know drives some people mad...you can be a bit on the reckless side.'

'Who've you been spending too much time with?' They were both still cautious about breaking cover although it was clear the conversation was about Sam.

'Do you like Stetsons?'

'Nope.'

'Horses?'

'Nope.'

'Cattle?'

'Not unless it's dead, on my plate and ready to eat.'

'Perfect. Cowboy it is!'

'I think you're more suited to being called cowboy. You're just as reckless and you love showing off.'

'Since when have I ever been reckless?' Deeks asked with mock offense in his eyes.

'C'mon Cowboy, let's get ready for that supper.'

'Sure thing. Ah, hold it. I finally got a nickname for you - G - for Gladstone!' Deeks looked triumphant as the brainwave hit him.

Callen smiled and shook his head as he walked past Deeks to the bedroom. In all fairness, 'cowboy' was a great nickname and one Sam had once used in Afghanistan after he revealed he didn't like horses. It suited Deeks a whole lot better though and he had to admire how he managed to pull a little piece of normality in to their situation. G!