A/N: You know I had to do it.

"Is this Martin Atticus Deeks?"

"Yes," Deeks replied, instantly on alert at the sound of his full name over the phone. "Who is this?"

"I'm Charles Westhaven of Westhaven and Moore Financial," the man explained. "I'm calling in reference to your account—"

"Sorry to interrupt you, but I don't have any accounts with your company. I never have."

"Well, unfortunately, our records show that you do. If you wish to close it out, you'll have to come down to our office and fill out some forms."

"All right, when can I come?" Deeks asked, hoping this wasn't some plot that ended in him getting kidnapped.

Deeks arrived at the Westhaven and Moore Financial building Monday morning. He was ushered into an office almost immediately, by Charles Westhaven himself.

"I'm afraid I got you here under slightly false pretenses," he said once Deeks was seated in a deep cushioned chair.

"Oh here we go," Deeks muttered. He glanced around for a possible weapon, eyeing the stapler and heavy ceramic paperweight on Westhaven's Deeks.

"The account I mentioned is actually a trust in your name," Westhaven continued, oblivious to Deeks' plans. "Initiated by Anatoli Kirkin."

"Excuse me?" Deeks said, startled out of his scheming. "Anatoli Kirkin has been dead for more than two years."

"Yes, I'm aware. A few years before he passed, Mr. Kirkin started the fund. He added to it regularly until his death, and it's been accruing interest the entire time."

"This is unbelievable."

"Yes, it can be overwhelming to suddenly come into so much money," Westhaven agreed, apparently mistaking the source of Deeks' disbelief. "I understand you're an attorney, but I do want to make certain you know the terms of this trust. Today we'll sign the forms to make you the custodian of the trust. You may withdraw a specified amount each fiscal year and the rest is to remain until any and all of your children attend a higher institution."

"Woah, woah, woah, back up a step," Deeks said, holding up a hand. "So, not only did Kirkin set up a fund in my name, but he also included my children? I didn't even have any kids when he passed."

"Mr. Kirkin wanted any children you should have to be well-provided for. He thought you might have some difficulty accepting his other bequests, which is why he set up the account in this way."

"Yeah, no. That makes perfect sense."

Westhaven smiled sympathetically. "I know it's a lot to take in. I'll give you a few moments to consider everything while I retrieve the paperwork and the safety deposit box Mr. Kirkin left in our care for you."

"Of course there's a safety deposit box," Deeks sighed, rubbing his temples.

"So, what do we do with this?" Kensi asked, staring at the financial papers Deeks brought home from Westhaven and Moore.

Deeks, Kensi, and Rosa sat around the coffee table, discussing the latest development in the Anatoli Kirkin Saga.

"I have no idea."

"I mean, this is technically dirty money, right?"

"Almost certainly," Deeks confirmed. He shook his head, thinking back to the various shenanigans Kirkin had gotten into. "You know, I came to…like that odd little man, as disturbing and as obsessive as he could be, but damn if he isn't still causing me problems from beyond the grave. Wasn't leaving me his empire enough?"

"His empire?" Rosa repeated. "What does that mean?"

"After Kirkin died, he left Deeks all his criminal ventures. In the process, his employees abducted Deeks," Kensi explained.

"Oh mi dios. And you liked this man?"

"It was more of a love-hate relationship. More love on Kirkin's side." Deeks cleared his throat. "It's hard to explain."

"Why don't you open the box," Kensi suggested, gesturing to the safety deposit box displayed in the very center of the table.

Deeks hadn't dared open it in front of Westhaven after Kirkin's past "gifts". He eyes it dubiously, hesitating with the keys in one hand. Drawing in a deep breath, he grabbed the box, inserted both keys and gingerly lifted the lid.

Inside were several items, a thick envelope on the very top. Deeks took that out first, breaking the wax seal—even in death, Kirkin was over-the-top—and pulling out multiple sheets of thick paper.

"My Dear Marty,

I hope this letter finds you well. As always, your interests have been of the most importance to me. You may not agree with some of my methods, such as when I attempted to rescue you on the morning of your wedding (an act fully borne of love).

"Oh good lord," Deeks groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose and then ruffling his hair. "If Kirkin actually pops out at some point, I'm leaving."

"He tried to stop your wedding," Rosa said, turning to Deeks with a raised eyebrow.

"Yes," Kensi confirmed wryly. "He held a lot of affection for Deeks. It all started in a bathhouse."

"Moving on!" Deeks said, clearing his throat again to drown out any details Kensi might let slip.

He skimmed over the parts of the letter detailing Kirkin's fond memories of said bathhouse and other moments Deeks would rather forget.

"As an extension, I wish to provide for your family in some way. Your lovely Kensi and any future children that may bless your home.

Please accept these resources as a token of my affection.

Anatoli Kirkin"

P.S. I have also included a few more keepsakes.

"Whelp, that tracks," Deeks commented, folding the letter back up and jamming it back into the envelope.

"Oh, I bet I know what at least one of these is," Kensi said with far too much glee for Deeks' liking.

"Ok, calm down." He paused to give her a look, and she pressed her lips together, adopting a suitably abashed expression. Satisfied, he turned his attention to the box again and started sifting through the remaining contents.

The next packet contained five medals emblazoned with the patron saint of children. "I guess Kirkin assumed we'd have a big family." He handed one to Rosa, who accepted it with a smile.

"That's sweet. What else is there?"

"Uh, some jewelry, a lifetime subscription to a bathhouse—lovely, and—damn it," he grumbled, trying to conceal the final item, but Kensi was too fast. She snatched it out of his hand, grinning at the small framed painting.

"Oh my god, yes! This is perfect," she said.

As far as Kirkin portraits went it was fairly benign and in good taste. Starting at mid-shoulder, the image of Deeks looked head-on, head slightly cocked, and a content smile playing at his lips.

"Is that a picture of you, Marty?" Rosa leaned forward to get a better look.

"Yes, yes it is, Rosa."

"It's actually very good. I wonder who painted it."

"We don't need to delve into that at all." Deeks shook his head firmly, futilely trying to take it from Kensi.

"Wait, I think I see a tiny A and K," Rosa continued. She looked at Deeks with a curious expression, one brow raised. "So this man painted a portrait of you?"

"Oh, it wouldn't be the first time," Kensi said in the undertone. She gave Deeks a sly look, raising an eyebrow. "At least this one is suitable for mixed company."

"I think I need to hear this bathhouse story," Rosa decided.

"Someone shoot me, please," Deeks begged. "And don't even think of adding that to your collection," he added to Kensi, who hastily slipped the portrait out of her pocket.

A/N: As always, rest in peace to Kirkin and Ravil Isyanov who portrayed him.

This story contains elements of canon as well as references to details created for other stories of mine.