A/N: The next little story in a series of fics with Deeks at FLETC. Since I'm happily living in a world of unreality, Deeks is doing quite well and has made a few friends.

"Man, this legal course is killing me," Charlie groaned as they walked out of their latest class, heading for the cafeteria. "Reczick just barely passed me on the last part."

"Yeah, that was kind of rough," Omar agreed, turning back to look at Deeks and Abigail, a recent addition to their little group. She was in about half of the same classes with them; unfortunately, Jake was in a different section for all his law courses. "How'd you guys do?"

"I got a 94%," Abigail answered, trying to hide her smile. She was just a few inches shorter than Deeks with blonde hair and an inviting smile.

Abigail wasn't to be underestimated though; she was incredibly intelligent and despite her lanky build, Deeks had already watched her take out three guys twice her weight. He had a feeling she would get along well with Nell and Kensi.

"You gotta be kidding me," Charlie said. "How?"

"I told you to join my study group." Abigail shrugged, glancing at Deeks. "What about you?"

"Oh c'mon," Omar said dismissively. "Deeks was a lawyer; we all know he got like a 110%. There was begrudging admiration in his voice. Deeks was pretty sure they still viewed him as some kind of legend-which was kind of awkward-but he tried not to rub it in their faces.

"I'm pretty sure that's not possible since Reczick doesn't offer extra credit," he pointed out as they filed into the cafeteria which was buzzing with several dozen students and instructors grabbing a quick meal before the next round of classes.

"If you weren't so nice, I think I'd hate you a little bit." Charlie grinned to offset his words.

They filled their trays and headed for one of the back tables, their preferred location. Sometimes it did remind Deeks a little too much of high school, but at least he wasn't avoiding being shoved into a locker. Or crushing on girls who didn't know he existed.

"Hey, if you want to run through some scenarios again, I'd be happy to help," Deeks offered a few minutes later after listening to them discuss upcoming exams and trials.

"That'd be great." Omar reached out to give him a fist bump. "Never would have got through fraud and conspiracy without you."

"You don't give yourself enough credit." As much as he'd like to believe that he was smarter than all of them, he knew it wasn't true. He just happened to have a lot more practice and years of experience on his side.

"Damn, what is that guy's problem?" Charlie muttered a minute later.

"Who?"

"Alan, you know the one from firearms who lectured a bunch of people about the proper stance when firing at a moving target." He gestured with his head two a couple tables away.

"And then the instructor told him his hold was way off," Omar finished with apparent appreciation. "I think he's got some kind of superiority complex."

Deeks discreetly glanced in Alan's direction; he was scowling at their table, a look of pure disgust on his face. They hadn't run into each other since their first encounter, but is seemed like he hadn't made many friends in that time.

"He always looks like he's had one too many laxatives." It was a cruel, but accurate assessment.

He almost considered asking Alan if he wanted to join them. Even if he didn't need the help, maybe he would appreciate the gesture. Or he might view it as some kind of ploy to undermine him.

Abigail bumped Deeks' shoulder, drawing his attention away from Alan's glower.

"So, how are your interrogation skills?" she asked. Deeks grinned, probably enjoying the opportunity to help-and possibly the chance to show off a little oto-more than he should. "Reczick said I'm too passive."

"Not as good as my wife's, but pretty solid," Deeks told her. "When do you guys want to meet?" They spent a couple minutes going over schedules, trying to find a time that would work for everyone.

Deeks finished eating before everyone else and sat back, just watching as they chatted. He'd never expected to be something between a pseudo older brother and tutor, but it was oddly enjoyable and made him miss his family and home just a little bit less.

A/N: Based on some transcripts I found (dated 2008), it seems like FLETC courses are graded using a percentage system.