what makes you think I'm enjoying being led to the flood
-The National
Gunn first meets Deeks 6 months after the dragon. It's the way Gunn sums up the things that ended that day, the lies they swallowed and choked on, all of that give-up-it's-all-over-apocalypse bullshit. Gunn is still a lawyer. And now he has clients. So he goes to the hapless public defender who got Darren's case. "I've got him now," Gunn says.
"Oh, okay," Deeks says. "Good, he's a good kid. And he didn't do this."
"He is," Gunn said. "You weren't slacking on this." They are signing forms. Deeks doesn't wear a tie, has a beard that look like a teenager trying to be tough.
Deeks says, "Thanks. Hey, weren't you at Wolfram and Hart? Like, representing all that's evil and wrong and possibly demonic?"
"It wasn't as evil when I was there," Gunn says. "And how do you know that?"
"That you used to for work not as evil when you were there? I read the Bar magazine. You have a really cool name," Deeks says, with what Gunn assumes was supposed to be a charming smile.
Over the next two months, Gunn takes three more clients from Deeks. He's happy to sign them all over, he says nice things about how Gunn had represented the previous ones. Gunn notices that Deeks hasn't half-assed any of the cases. Gunn has to come to think of the kid as a good guy, probably. It's a pretty high estimation in Gunn's mind. The last time, Deeks says, "I'm probably leaving here, you know any good jobs?"
"Burned out already?"
"No, it's not that." Gunn knows that face, the one Deeks was making. It's a kind of burnout, with layers going deeper than just sick and tired of being sick and tired. Deeks says, "Maybe it should be that, given that you just had to defend a 15 year old on grand larceny with absolutely no actual evidence against him. But it's not that, not really."
He says, "You looking for lawyer work? I'm not hiring. I would maybe hire you if I was. Maybe."
Deeks smiles, all charm again. "Thank you. Maybe. Hey, I thought you mentioned a partner? Two weeks ago, you were on the phone when you came to see me and I was very respectful about not listening in. I keep meaning to ask, you have a partner but I swear I read you're a sole proprietor now?"
"He's a partner partner, not another lawyer," Gunn says.
"Oh, oh," Deeks says. "Well, I feel stupid." Gunn smiles. Deeks says, "You do it on purpose, don't you? Try to trip people up? It's fun for you."
"I gotta find my fun somewhere," Gunn says.
"I'm going to be a cop," Deeks said. Like he's coming out to someone he barely knows.
"That's one career choice, for sure."
Deeks says, "I get it. LAPD isn't always the greatest contributor to Los Angeles citizens' sense of civic pride. Or safety."
"Not in my dealings with them," Gunn says. "Did you ever hear, you're from here, right? You sound like an actual native."
"I am an actual native of southern California," Deeks says.
Gunn says, "Did you ever hear about that cop who raised all his fellow officers from the dead and lowered 'crime' by beating the shit out of everyone who went out after dark and didn't look respectable?"
"Zombie cops," Deeks says. "I hope I don't end up working for a guy like that. If I'm dead, keep me in the ground unless I get triple overtime."
Gunn actually laughs at that. And the kid appears to have followed through. Next time Gunn comes by the PD office to take over a case, Deeks isn't there.
It's another 10 months or so after that Gunn gets a call to come down for a suspect. Standing outside the interrogation room is Deeks in a crappy suit and his partner, presumably. The partner pats his pudgy stomach and says, "I don't know who called you but that kid is guilty, son."
Deeks is about half foot taller than his partner so even standing behind Mr. I-Will-Call-You-Son-Because-I-Embrace-That-Racist-Stereotype, Deeks can be clearly seen rolling his eyes and looking at Gunn apologetically.
"I hope you didn't talk to my client," Gunn says.
"We did not," Deeks says. "We absolutely did not."
The partner tries to look down at Gunn while being a foot shorter and then retreats to his desk. Gunn says, "So this is being a cop, Deeks."
"It's not all like that guy or this case. Sometimes we catch bad guys that have actual evidence against them and not just because of what their jeans look like," Deeks says. He still looks apologetic. "And I made sure this kid will be okay."
"I bet you've done that for all the fine young men in their not respectable jeans that your partner has brought down here," Gunn says.
"I know," Deeks says. "I know. But it's not all like this."
"I know that, too," Gunn says. "I just felt like needling you, reminding you you're enforcing an oppressive system of injustice stacked against the little guy, the non-white people, the gals, the neither guy nor gals, and even baby kittens."
"Some of the time," Deeks says. "Some of the time I'm just catching robbers, you know. Let me tell you about the kittens I've run into."
"I'm sure you're great at your job," Gunn says. He walks in to meet his client.
He doesn't see Deeks for another year or two. This time he's at a local bar, watching soccer because Wesley is sometimes too obnoxious to watch games with. He's grown to like the sport, appreciate it a little, but he will not watch it at home.
Gunn looks over his shoulder at the table full of assholes in the corner and is surprised to see Deeks sitting with them. Deeks sure doesn't look like a cop anymore. Which is only two steps more scruffy than the last time he saw the guy. Gunn mulls and considers. He'd put odds on undercover work over Deeks sliding into some kind of addiction spiral. He watches the assholes without being noticed and is pretty much convinced on the side of undercover.
He really doesn't like the assholes Deeks is sitting with, and they're a blight on the neighborhood. So he waits outside. As the assholes leaves, Gunn heads the other direction, bumping Deeks on the shoulder. Gunn says, "Excuuuuse me, shithead."
Deeks turns and Gunn has to admire the guy, he's smooth. Not a sign of recognition. Deeks says, "Shithead? You're the shithead."
"No," Gunn says, standing tall. "I know you. You're an asshole and a shithead."
Asshole one says, "Hey, it's Charles Gunn self appointed guardian of these two fine blocks. Got himself his white boyfriend and now he thinks he's some friend of the police."
"I ain't no friend of the police, fucker, and I am not your friend," Gunn says. "No wonder you're hanging with Blondie here."
"Back off," Deeks says. There's real menace in his voice. The guy is really smooth.
"I'll go my way and you go yours," Gunn says.
The assholes drift off, making obscene gestures at Gunn as they go. It's another five weeks before Deeks comes into Gunn's office, smiling. "I was undercover," Deeks says quietly. "Thanks for helping me out there."
"You're good at that," Gunn says. He knows everyone who was at the table with Deeks has been arrested. It's a good case against them, one of them was desperate enough to offer Gunn a ton of money. Which he did not take. "Real good. I wondered if you were not the guy I thought you were."
"If you thought I was a jungle cat of justice and good, you were right."
"Deeks, I've met a jungle cat, you are nothing like one." Gunn lets himself smile.
"You had a pet tiger? Please tell me you had a pet tiger."
"I have no intention of telling you that story, ever," Gunn says. "Move on before someone sees you talking to one of the good guys."
Deeks leaves, with a little swagger, and Gunn finds Deeks's card on his desk at the end of the day.
One morning, Gunn looks out the window and there's some kind of running gun fight happening on his neighbor's lawn. His neighbor across the way is a major freak. Still, Gunn's first thought it that they're filming and no one put up permits. Then he sees the vests and nice guns. NCIS, he reads. "Heard of NCIS?"
Wesley doesn't answer at first. Then he says, "According to the internet, which you have on your phone which I know is in your hand, it's Naval Criminal Investigative Services. Are they the ones shooting up our neighborhood?"
"Looks like they're keeping their fire mostly on the one house and whatever naval enemies live there," Gunn says. "Actually, looks like it's over."
He goes outside because he knows that blond guy. He walks across his own lawn (which is actually a rock garden arranged in a manner Wes insists grants protection to their house and pets. Gunn points out they don't have pets and Wes says they could get some. A friendly cat. Maybe a small dog. Gunn says no again and they put it off for another week). Gunn calls out, "How many damn jobs are you going to have?"
Deeks turns and then smiles. "You live here?" He holsters his weapons and gives Gunn a high five.
"Yeah, what's my neighbor been doing?"
The brunette next to Deeks says, "Classified. You should probably go back inside, sir."
"You are standing on my rock garden, you don't get to tell me what to do," Gunn says. He doesn't raise his voice.
The brunette purses her mouth and for one small moment Gunn thinks of Cordelia and is sad all over again. It's not a real resemblance, Cordelia at no point in her life would have nails that short and bare.
Deeks says, "It is his garden, Kens. Also, he used to have a pet tiger so we might want to step back."
"The big cat was never my pet, it wasn't that kind of relationship," Gunn says, grinning. "Good to see you, Deeks. You gone federal now?"
"Not technically," the brunette says. "Deeks, we need to go."
"I always do what the lady says," Deeks says. His partner mutters something about how that is so far from the truth. "Catch you later, man."
"Later," Gunn says. The guy looks almost happy.
Gunn finds himself in need of information and actually digs out Deeks's card. He calls three times and gets voicemail each one. Final time he leaves a message. Then he moves on to his next source.
Seven weeks later, Deeks calls him. It's 10 pm, and Wes is out on some mission for Angel. Gunn would have gone, but he's old and he has court tomorrow. He weighs which of them is doing the best good, what that even means. Defend the helpless in court, kill the demons preying on the helpless. He's chosen the first tonight. And he answers his phone and says, "Deeks."
"Sorry, sorry. I got your message," Deeks says. "I should have answered. Did you get what you needed?"
"I have multiple sources, I got it done," Gunn says.
"Sorry, I had a rough few, a rough summer," he says.
Gunn nods. "I've had a few of those. One summer my sister died and it was all my fault. Another summer my best friend betrayed me, I was living with a liar, my boss disappeared."
"That sounds definitely shitty," Deeks says. "Sorry about your sister."
"It's been a while," Gunn says. "Less rough now, right?"
"Yeah, totally. It's all good," Deeks says.
"Man, you used to be a good liar," Gunn says.
Deeks laughs. "I did used to be."
"Next time I call, I should hear from you sooner?"
Deeks says, "Promise."
A year later he hears from Deeks, in a way. Big time Clippers star comes into Gunn's not very big clinic minus any of his entourage. Star leans on the counter and says, "My friend Marty says you do great work for Los Angeles."
"I don't think I know a Marty," Gunn says.
"Marty Deeks," the Star says. Gunn nods. "I just got a very nice contract and I want to put some of it to good use at least. Marty said this place could probably do that."
Gunn smiles. "Marty is not wrong at all." Half hour later he has a quarter of million dollars donation. He reminds himself to be nicer to public defenders more often.
It's a while before he hears from Deeks himself, though. They meet in a bar. Gunn notices the same brunette sitting at the bar, looking over at Deeks with some sort of something. Girlfriend now, Gunn thinks.
Deeks says, "Stop looking at my girl."
"She does not believe," Gunn says.
"You could say that," Deeks says. "I do. I believe in the zombies and all that. I've seen things."
"We've all seen things," Gunn says. "But it's not like evil is strictly demonic."
"No, I know," Deeks says. "As weird as it is to being nodding when you use the word demonic non-ironically or in a comic book context. Some people are evil. Some people are just bad. I know, that, I've seen that. I've seen people who were 100% human do things I don't sleep well when I remember. But, the thing is, when someone goes from sneaky and manipulative but mostly with good intentions to sneaky and manipulative with bewildering to bad intentions, that's, that's something you could investigate for me, right?"
"It's not always demons, though," Gunn says. "It usually isn't."
"I don't understand it any other way," Deeks says.
"Okay," Gunn says. "I can look for you."
Deeks slides a photo across the table. "Her name is Henrietta Lange."