A/N: I decided to take this one in a different direction than you probably would expect. I hope you still enjoy it.
Walking back into LAPD felt odd. Deeks hadn't been back since he cleared out his few remaining belongings when he was furloughed months ago, and even then, his visits were few and far between. It gave him a simultaneously nostalgic and uneasy feeling
He hadn't left LAPD on particularly good terms, and had fully intended to keep his distance. Until Roger Bates got in contact with him, requesting a private meeting. He wouldn't say exactly why, but Deeks could guess it was some less than savory case no one else wanted to touch.
He nodded at the young cop manning the front desk, offering a friendly smile "Morning, I'm Marty Deeks. I have an appointment with Roger Bates."
"Oh, yes, he's waiting for you," she said, face brightening with unexpected recognition. "I'll let Lieutenant Bates know you're here, and you can head down to his office."
Deeks poked his head through Bates' open door, finding Bates with his head bent over some report. He rapped on the doorframe a couple times until Bates glanced up, his mouth morphing into a grim smile.
"Deeks, never thought I'd say this, but I'm glad to see you," he said by way of greeting.
Crossing his legs at the ankle, Deeks settled against the doorframe. "Always nice to be loved, Bates," he drawled. "So what exactly required me to come in when I could be spending the morning with my wife?"
"Still can't believe you're married. And to a woman like Blye." Bates shook his head like it was a concept beyond comprehension. "Have a seat, Deeks."
Holding back a comment about Bates' own marriage track record, Deeks grabbed the chair closest to the door, and sank into it.
"Never thought I'd say this, but LAPD took a big hit when you left," he continued, in almost reminiscent tone. Deeks quirked an eyebrow, holding his right index finger up.
"I think the phrase you're looking for is "indefinite furlough", Deeks interjected. "And I barely spent any time here in my last 7-8 years as a detective."
"That's true, but we could always count on you to step in on cases no one else could handle."
"And there it is." Deeks ignored the implied compliment. It was just as he'd expected; they needed someone to do their dirty work.
"Now just hold on a damn second. At least let me explain," Bates said, motioning for Deeks to stay put as he made to stand up. He lowered himself back down reluctantly. He realized Bates looked just a little too eager to keep him here, which Deeks took as an even bigger red flag.
"Fine. I'll listen, but I'm not promising anything," Deeks decided. Bates didn't look took pleased by that, but accepted it with a mere grunt to express his dissatisfaction.
Steepling his hands on his desk, Bates leaned forward, a hint of exhaustion showing in his eyes.
"We got a real bad meth problem going on. We suspect a new gang called the Belfries and so far, they're linked with 18 deaths. We've sent in several detectives from the undercover unit, but they just can't get close enough," he explained.
A feeling of dread and dismay crept over Deeks. He remembered those kinds of cases. It had been a while since he'd actually had to go under with drug dealers and the like for more than a few hours. When he was younger, a new detective, he'd had a desperate need to be out there, to get another killer off the streets."
"I'm sorry," Deeks said simply. "I wish I could help you, but I can't."
Bates didn't seem all that surprised by his response. He braced his hands on his desk now, his expression turning almost desperate.
"Deeks, 18 people in two months. You're the best undercover operative I've ever seen. No one else has a chance."
Another wave of dismay swept through Deeks, quickly followed by guilt. He shoved a hand through his hair, reaching Deep for the strength to hold his ground.
"I appreciate that, Roger. It's absolutely devastating, but I'm not that man anymore. I'm married, we just bought a house." He looked Bates directly in the eye for a moment. "Kensi and I are trying to start a family. I can't, I can't, do that to her, to us. I can't disappear for weeks at a time, knowing I'm going into a situation where there's a very good chance I won't make it out. I realize that's incredibly selfish." He shook his head, eyes going distant for a second.
"Deeks, you used to live for the solo missions," Bates said, resignation in his voice, even as he gave a last-ditch effort.
"Yeah, I did. I'm not that guy anymore, though." His phone buzzed, and he checked it quickly. "I need to get into the office. I'm sorry I can't help you."
He left LAPD, both oddly lighter and heavier than when he entered.