Strength in My Weakness

"My family is my strength and my weakness." – Aishwarya Rai Bachchan.

It's the smell of coffee in the morning that wakes Deeks up, instead of a bed hogging brunette doing a startling impression of a starfish. He groans to himself at the early morning sunlight filtering through the blinds over his headboard and tries to bury his head back under the pillow without dislodging Kensi's head from his shoulder. Her hair's tickling his nose, his head feels like someone set off Fourth of July fireworks in his frontal lobe, and he's starting to doubt the wisdom of challenging his tomboy partner to vodka shots at 1 a.m. In his defense, it had seemed like a good idea at the time, but then again didn't everything?

It takes Deeks a moment, a moment that would have cost him any other time, but he's still trying to do the math that coffee + Kensi still in bed beside him = trouble. Either Monty's been hiding, not only a pair of thumbs, but super puppy intelligence from him or someone else is in his apartment. He grumbles to himself for a handful of seconds, trying to work up the will to actually move, before he slips out from under Kensi and reaches for his gun on the nightstand. She makes a soft noise of protest at the loss of her body pillow and Deeks contemplates waking her, before deciding against it. He doubts he would have had the chance to wake up if someone truly meant them harm and he has yet to meet a burglar who breaks in just to help themselves to his coffee.

Still he takes his gun and checks the clip before he eases out the bedroom door. He clears the bathroom on his way down the hallway and feels infinitely silly to be pointing his gun at the toilet paper stand and pile of dirty clothes in the corner. Deeks stalks the rest of the way up the hallway, bare feet soundless on the hardwood floor, before lowering his Beretta down to his side as he comes around the door jam and takes in the scene in his kitchen.

Callen looks up from his perch at the far side of Deeks' kitchen island; icy blue eyes sweeping up and down over the detective's fantastic example of bed head as he sets his coffee cup back down on the table and smirks, "Wow, when you said 'style by pillow' you really weren't kidding."

Deeks supposes he should probably be more surprised but it's stupid-o'clock in the morning and he can't muster enough brain power to be interested in the fact that Callen's broken into his house – again. He tucks his gun into the back waistband of his board shorts and crosses the kitchen to the coffee maker, finding a mug with cream and sugar already sitting out for him. He shakes his head silently and decides not to think about that too much.

"Is this going to become a regular thing now?" Deeks grouses as he pours liquid caffeine into his mug and stirs, "Because I'm starting to think that I should just give you a key."

Callen raises a single eyebrow at him in challenge and Deeks gives a moment to questioning his sanity because it probably wasn't a good idea to invite a word war with the lead agent before they've both had at least two cups of coffee. He's proven right a second later as Callen asks, "What makes you think I don't?"

"Right, ok," Deeks stutters because his brain has stopped working at the pure incredibility of that statement. He eyes his team leader for a full minute before deciding that maybe it wasn't quite that incredible after all. It's another thing he's going to try not to think about, "Not only is that all kinds of creepy, but I'm pretty sure it violates some sort of privacy law, my privacy to be exact."

"I'm a former spy, Deeks," Callen points out in a tone that suggests he's talking to a particularly dull rookie. Deeks will probably be offended by that later, when he can work up enough energy to be anything but sleepy. "There's not a whole lot of privacy in that."

"So you broke into my house," Deeks glances at the clock and groans, "at quarter to six in the morning to talk about our mutual lack of privacy? Were you raised by wolves?"

That probably wasn't the smartest thing to say, but his brain to mouth filter is working even less than usual at the moment. He shakes his head in the face of Callen's smirk, "Don't answer that. Seriously though, shouldn't you be at the hospital or something instead of here, depriving me of my beauty sleep?"

Callen doesn't answer for a long minute, long enough for Deeks to wonder if maybe something hasn't happened to Sam, before he dismisses it. G wouldn't be here if something had and he certainly wouldn't be as civil. It's been three days since Sam was shot trying to protect everyone's favorite Indian double-agent and about the same since Thapa was killed protecting them from a bunch of Ghurkhas on a rampage and it's a loss that Deeks still feels keenly. He'd started to think of the Nepalese soldier as a friend and the man was definitely part of the reason that he had Kensi now.

Callen shifts suddenly, startling Monty who was dozing around the agent's feet, and reaches out to fiddle with his coffee mug. He looks uncomfortable in a way that's odd for G because the first rule of undercover is to look like you belong. "I need a favor," he says slowly, in a tone that's far too serious for this to be anything simple.

Deeks braces himself for whatever bomb Callen's about to set off, setting his mug down on the counter and crossing the two steps to lean against the island opposite the lead agent. Callen looks up, an edge in his blue eyes that Deeks has been seeing ever since Sam went down in that warehouse. It makes him nervous, the hairs on the back of his neck prickling in unease.

Then Callen blinks and it's gone, hidden under an easy smirk, "Unless you need more beauty sleep, Zevon."

Deeks groans, because of course Callen would know Werewolves in London and he knows he's going to be paying for that 'raised by wolves' comment for the foreseeable future. "Touché," he allows, shaking his head at the utter absurdity, "touché."

Callen grins and Deeks supposes that on anyone else it probably wouldn't look quite as frightening. "I need to run down a few errands, Deeks." Callen says, the edge starting to creep back into his eyes like Kensi frigid fingertips against the back of his neck in the middle of the night. He swears the woman's a warmth leech, all freezing fingers and iceberg toes. "I'm going to be out of the country for a few days, and -"

"Sam," Deeks concludes, when his boss trails off looking for the entire world like he'd prefer Chinese water torture to having to ask for help. That's part of the reason Deeks respects him so much, because Callen can be cold at times and as stubborn as Yoda, but he protects his own. "You want me to keep an eye on your partner?"

Callen nods shortly and Deeks blinks in disbelief because he's a lot closer to Sam now than before the whole Sidorov debacle but he's still pretty sure that Sam's more irritated than charmed by him most days. He's the last person he'd expect Callen to ask about something like this, "Why me?"

"He trusts you," Callen says, like it's the most obvious thing in the world. "So do I. If we didn't, you wouldn't be here."

Deeks has a moment of raw, unaltered shock because that's the first time he's ever heard Callen utter those words and definitely never directed at him before. It settles something deep in his gut, like some sort of approval he didn't realize he was still looking for because Callen doesn't give out compliments freely. It makes Deeks instantly suspicious, "Just what kind of errand is this?"

"It shouldn't take long," Callen shrugs casually, maybe a little too casually, and it sets off alarm bells in the detective's gut, "A few days. I should be back within the week, and in the meantime I've had Hetty pull the team from active duty. We could all use a break."

"Uh huh," Deeks nods, trying not to be suckered by the offer of a week off to spend with Kensi and his surfboard, "You know that didn't actually answer the question."

Callen's eyes narrow in a way that sets off alarm bells of an entirely different kind and Deeks takes a moment to curse his big mouth before Callen huffs a laugh, looking equal parts amused and annoyed that Deeks called him on it. Hetty and Sam are about the only ones who can get away with that. "You're right," the agent admits after a beat of silence. "I'm running a little more than an errand."

Deeks stands up a little straighter in shock, "Is this an op?"

"Not exactly," Callen says and Deeks heaves a sigh in the confines of his own thoughts, wondering if the man's ever answered a question with a simple yes or no. G shifts, looking uncertain for the space of several heartbeats before he meets the detective's gaze head on, "Ella Desai finally gave up the names of the people behind this whole mess."

"So you're going to - what?" Deeks questions, because Callen's being weirdly liberal with information and it's starting to freak him out, "Arrest them? We've got no proof except the word of a double agent who they've already denounced."

"I know that," Callen snaps, his gaze shifting from casual into pissed in the time it takes Deeks to blink and it hits him then that G's taking this a lot harder than he'd like to appear. Then again if it was Kensi in the hospital Marty doesn't think he'd be dealing any better. In fact, he'd probably be a wreck right now which just makes him worried about where Callen's head space is at. The lead agent takes a deep breath, visibly reigning himself in before he continues, "Besides, I wasn't planning on arresting them."

The implication's just as clear as the sunlight streaming in the window over Callen's right shoulder and Deeks just stares for a moment enjoying the whiplash. Part of him wants to question Callen's sanity, the same part that wants desperately to rewind the last thirty seconds and pretend he never asked. But another part, the one that clings to the family he's carved out with NCIS, wants nothing more than to grab his gun and go with because he understands what it's like to be willing to do anything to protect the ones that you care about. He doesn't do either.

Instead Deeks nods, before raising an eyebrow in curiosity, "Does Hetty know?"

Callen blinks looking surprised for the space of several seconds like he expected Deeks to fight him on this before the agent shrugs, "I'm sure she'll suspect, but what Hetty doesn't know doesn't hurt either of us. If anyone asks, I'm visiting a good friend in D.C."