Disclaimer: Guess what? I still don't own NCIS: LA or any of its characters. *sigh* Wish I did though because not only would I whump Callen and Deeks often but also would get rid of Miss Jones.

Author's Note: It seems I'm always doing this… but someone needs to whump the pretties if the writers keep missing great opportunities to do so! Thanks to It'sMyFavoriteSong for once again agreeing with being my beta. She did a great job so if you find any mistakes left they are all mine. And so, without any further ado here's how I envisioned season two premiere happening.

Опасность Means Danger

By: Laz

His whole body ached. What the hell had he done…? He tried to move but pain pulled him back down. Bad idea. He opened his eyes and saw an unfamiliar ceiling… No flowery or fruity scents so it didn't belong to a woman. Too bad.

He attempted to get up once again; damn, that table was cold. Wait… why was he was on an examining table? His efforts paid off this time, and he managed to sit up. Well, he was almost sitting. As soon as his body registered the movement, he regretted it. The pain in his side was piercing and unexpected, and it hurt so much that he gagged.

He knew what was coming next.

He sat up quickly, ignoring the pain, and bent forward to throw up what little food he had in his stomach. After the dry heaves had stopped, he groaned and flopped back down. He hoped his host wouldn't mind the little gift. Black spots were dancing in front of his eyes and the room spun to a point where he had to lay down. He closed his eyes and listened for any sound that might help to identify his location. It wasn't for several minutes that he heard the faint sound of approaching footsteps.

Closer and closer they came, getting louder with each step. His pounding head registered the normally soft sound as loudly guns going off. As bombs going off. Bombs. Bombs?


His heart quickened its pace. A bomb had gone off. The car… It was a car bomb… someone had planted a bomb in Emilio's car… Shit! Emilio was dead and he wasn't. He had to call Jess and let her know what had happened. That is, if he was alive long enough to make the call. A man was now standing in front of him. He shone a light into his eyes. Pain lanced through his skull, worse than before. The light felt like blades going through his eyes. He rolled his head away, feeling the bile rise again. The man didn't seem too concerned as clicked the flashlight off.

"Emilio's men brought you here after the explosion. I patched you up the best I could, but now you must be your own way."

"Just like that? No tests, not interrogation… torture...?"

The man just stared at him impatiently "You need to leave now."

"You don't have to tell me twice."

"I believe I did."

"Just one quick question," Deeks said, slowly sitting up and wincing in pain. He didn't know how long ago that bomb had exploded, what he did know was that he felt heavy, he had a killer headache, and every little part of his body was hurting. Completely ignoring the man's snarky reply as he slowly got down from the table he asked, "How long have I been out, exactly?"

While his patient was giving his wobbly legs a chance to support him, the doctor answered, "The bombing was yesterday afternoon, so I believe you've been out for a little over 14 hours. Now Mr. Sully, I really don't want to have to ask you a third time."

"Why are you so adamant on kicking my ass out the door?" Deeks asked curiously.

"Haven't you noticed anything?" Deeks looked around, trying to find something that he was supposed to have noticed. "Emilio's bodyguards aren't here. Why do you think that is?" The man didn't give Deeks a chance to answer. "It's because Lazik is in town and the best way to stay alive is to not get in his way."

Well, that made sense. Deeks adjusted his dusty jacket with as much dignity as he could muster, and slowly placed one foot in front of the other. As soon as he could walk straight, he would start thinking about his options. But first he needed to pee.

"I know you hate me and all, I tend to have that effect on people… but if you could just let me use your bathroom, I'll be out of your hair in no time."

The doctor gave him a skeptical look before pointing to a door and leaving the room. Irritated, Deeks made his way over to the door. He entered the small bathroom and did his business, stopping in front of the mirror to examine the damage.

"You look worse than crap, Deeks," he told his reflection. He pulled up his shirt and jacket to check his side. "And I feel like it too." His side hurt like a mother. "But you know how the ladies love scars." With a heavy sigh he covered the massive bruising and the few stitches the irritable doctor had given him. He walked out of the bathroom, through the office and passed that suspicious looking man without looking back.

Once he was out on the streets, he looked for a public place. He had to stay in a crowded area if he was going to avoid standing out. Sooner or later someone was going to show up to finish the job they had started, and they wouldn't stop 'til he was dead.

A bus stop: People constantly coming and going... Perfect. Plus, he had no ride at the moment. He pulled out his phone and dialed Jess

Straight to voice mail.

That was odd… she was his handler and was supposed to pick up no matter what. He dialed again, and again got nothing. The bus arrived and he got on it. Worry was now pushing pain to the back of his mind. As he was looking for a place to sit, he spotted an old man with a radio turned on. He went to sit close enough to hear the news airing, thinking that if something had happened, they would certainly broadcast it. Ten minutes later, he was proven right.

"…and an unusual car bombing at the marina yesterday. No one was injured, but unfortunately LAPD Detective Jess Traynor was killed in the blast. The specific details of the event have not yet been released to the public. We'll keep you up to date as information becomes available. In other news…"

Jess… They killed Jess... No, don't think about that Deeks, you still have a job to finish.

He needed to convince Lazik to let him take Emilio's place if he was going to save this operation. He had to do it for the girls and for… for Traynor too. He didn't have that many options; there was really only one person who could help him.

- "Lange"

- "Hetty it's Deeks, we need to meet."

- "Where?" - He let out a breath that he didn't know he was holding.

- "The bar where you offered me a job?"

- "When?"

- "As soon as you can. Will you do it?"

- "I will."

Hetty hung up and Deeks stared at his phone. This was his only chance to make things right. The shields hated him, which was no secret… that's why he couldn't turn to the LAPD for help. Hetty was different; she was scarier, but she cared. The question was- would she care enough to let him complete his op?