Like A Hurricane
An NCIS: Los Angeles Fanfiction
A prelude to Personal Questions
and part of my K/D Universe
Another story that was inspired by a song on my IPod - the wonderful Like a Hurricane, by the incomparable Neil Young. This story takes place before the other installments in my Kensi and Deeks universe and can be read as a stand-alone.
What happened after Hetty left Deeks in the bar, after persuasing him to join NCIS as LAPD liaison officer? How did he feel about joining the team and becoming Kensi's partner? And exactly what did Kensi think about it all?
He signed the form she'd pushed across the bar, signed it because there really didn't seem to be an option to do otherwise. Marty scrawled his signature and watched as Hetty added hers as witness. Her face was carefully impassive, not giving anything away.
"How will your team feel about this?" he asked, taking another long draft of coffee, needing the caffeine kick more than ever. Sometimes it felt like the whole world was taking it in turns to line up and kick his butt into next week.
"My team will see the benefits." Hetty spoke in absolutes, he'd noticed that.
"I guess my department will too. The benefits of getting rid of me." He turned to look at her. "I'm not sure if you really know what you're getting into, Hetty. I've not exactly made a lot of friends among the shields."
She regarded him curiously. "And does that bother you? Was that why you joined the LAPD – to win a popularity contest?"
"You've seen my file. And I'm guessing there's a whole lot more information about me that's passed across your desk. So let's not start playing any games." Marty was pissed now and couldn't be bothered to pretend.
"I have indeed seen your file. And that is precisely why I determined you would be the ideal fourth member of the Special ProjectsTeam. Your skills and contacts are impressive."
"I impressed you? Would you put that in writing for me, Hetty? Just so I can produce it as a reference when you break the bad news to your guys. They didn't exactly go out of their way to make me feel welcome." The coffee was finished now and he contemplated ordering another one.
"I think I can leave it to you to make your own mark, Mr Deeks. I am looking forward to welcoming you tomorrow morning. Don't be late."
She'd left shortly after that, leaving Marty Deeks staring at his reflection in the mirror behind the bar and wondering what the hell he'd got himself into. Although, there were some very definite benefits to this new gig. Benefits in the form of one NCIS agent by the name of Kensi Blye.
Marty had sussed her for an agent the moment she'd walked into the Blood and Guts Gym with her phoney lines about just wanting to see the place where her poor dead boyfriend used to work out. It was so obviously a set-up it just screamed "fake"! Only the rest of the guys were too busy eyeing her up and down with their tongues hanging out to work that one out. Mind you, nobody have ever claimed that you had to be a rocket sceintist to join the Marines. It had been so blindingly obvious to Marty though, especially as it was the sort of lame cover-story he kept being assigned by his bosses. So he'd been deliberately unphased by her obvious charms and challenged her from the outset - and that had thrown her completely. Kensi Blye was clearly used to getting men exactly where she wanted them. And when he'd done his best to be obstreperous, Marty had seen the look of panic flicker in her eyes, just for a second and he'd enjoyed the feeling of power that gave him. It appeared that not very men said "no" to Kensi Blye.
Well, she'd have to get used to it, if they were going to work together. He wasn't interested in her at all. Not for one second. He knew all about women like her and how to play them – the charming smile, the off-hand remarks, the mild flirting that would drive her mad when he never actually took it to the next stage. This looked like it might actually be fun. Kensi Blye had no idea what she was letting herself in for. It would be interesting to see just how long she could retain her superior attitude for.
Smiling at the thought, Marty picked up his jacket and started walking towards his car. There were a lot of things to think about. Things that would probably seem a lot less important after a few beers. And he knew of just the place.