Hey!

Well, here it is. This is easily one of the most ambitious stories I've ever attempted, but the first chapter doesn't show it. This is an AU story, and just to be safe, spoilers up through Season 2 (only background information) will pop up. Please enjoy, and if you do, let me know. Regardless of what anyone says, reviews are pretty much what we write for!

You know the drill...I own nothing! CBS and Shane Brennan have all the fun.

"You know, you hit like a girl."

"Funny, I'd say the same about you, Deeks."

Special Agent Kensi Bly laughed as she ducked another punch. It was the same conversation the team had every time they trained together. Her partner, LAPD liaison Marty Deeks would make a comment on her fighting skills while she was kicking his butt, then her boss would send some retort back on her behalf. Sometimes it was about his appearance or his fighting skills, it really didn't matter.

"Don't break a nail!" he chimed again as Deeks' right cross glanced off her arm.

"Oh, come on Sam," Deeks whined, blocking a left hook. "Just because I…ooph…didn't grow up playing with Marine commandos…hey!"

Kensi landed a kick right to his side, effectively ending whatever little jab he would have gotten in. Satisfied with the amount of damage she caused, she stepped out of 'the ring', grabbed a towel and threw another to her partner.

"Yeah, as opposed to pretending to be He-Man."

"Oh, I know you're not going to bash He-Man," Deeks retorted. A strange look came over his face as he raised his fist. "I HAVE THE…".

"I swear, if you finish that sentence Deeks, you won't be breathing long enough to regret it," Special Agent Sam Hanna stated, glaring toward his agents. Although he sounded serious, Kensi could tell that he found it all as funny as she did. Though she had little doubt that Sam could make Deeks regret speaking.

"Pff, you're all jealous."

Kensi shook her head as she walked into the women's lockers. She could hear the bickering continue through the open door, but as soon as it closed she was enveloped in silence. Not saying NCIS was biased, but there was a much larger ratio of men than women operatives, which meant she was usually alone. Though she'd never been uncomfortable with it; like Deeks joked, she had grown up around Marines more than girls her own age. By now it was second nature.

Showering quickly and redressing, Kensi made her way out to the bullpen. As suspected, a cleaned up Deeks and Sam were still arguing with each other, while their junior agent Dominic Vail sat idly by, a grin plastered on his face. Kensi smiled as she passed some other agents, before hearing the voice she forgot she'd been avoiding that day.

"Miss Blye!"

Shit…Hetty. Knowing there was no way to successfully avoid her for more than a few minutes, Kensi stretched her smile a little further and walked over to the operations manager's desk.

"Morning, Hetty," she said brightly, hoping to get through this little chew out relatively unscathed. Because everyone knew, Hetty only ever called across the room to chew you out.

"Yes, it is, but unfortunately not a good one. You wore this yesterday on the Rivers case, did you not?" the older woman asked, holding up a long white trench with a large golden buckle in the center. Kensi nodded. "And would you please explain to me what this," she pointed to a large brown smudge across the front "and this," a rather ugly reddish brown stain on the sleeve "might be?"

"Well," she began slowly, going over the events from the day before in her mind, "that one on the front is from tackling the suspect into, well, the mud. And that one there," she pointed at the stain on the sleeve, "looks like blood, which was also the suspect's."

Neither answer seemed to please the little woman, and although she nodded, her face remained in the same position. "I see. Well, the next time you decide to run down suspects while undercover, I suggest you do it in something other than Versace."

After promising she would (even knowing it was unreasonable to do so), Kensi had time to only glance toward the bullpen before an annoyingly high-pitched whistle came from above, followed by their technical operator's enthused voice.

"We've got a body!" Kensi turned her head toward him with an eyebrow raised and assumed most everybody else did too. Eric's face dropped as he looked down at them. "Too much? Okay, too much."

Kensi shook her head and grabbed onto the wrought iron railing of the stairway. For being a secret government installation, they really hadn't done too badly on location. The building was a beautiful Spanish style, with large skylights allowing the sun to pour in. The stone walls gave it a warm feel, and plants were scattered throughout. It was funny how much this building had become her home in the two years she'd worked for NCIS.

Where the bulk of the building was comfortable and warm, the OPS room was all cutting edge. Giant plasma screens covered the walls, computers stuffed multiple corners, and in the center was a large metal and glass table. This was the brain of OSP, monitoring everything and anything. And behind it all were their technical operators.

"Okay, so about twenty minutes ago a call came into LAPD about a body found near a Venice fishing district," Eric began, swiveling in his beloved chair. A photo popped up on the screen with a few clicks of his handheld. Kensi noticed the warehouses surrounding the area where the body was found, and what looked like a market to the left of the buildings. Drawing on her knowledge of the city, a market near the fishing warehouses in Venice would make sense.

Focusing again, she watched as the picture zoomed into the body lying in the center. The man was dressed in civilian clothes which were stained red down the front. He was on his back, and lifeless green eyes stared into the distance. Kensi took note of what looked like bullet wounds in his chest and the pool of blood he was in.

"LAPD got an ID on his prints," Nell Jones continued, and a picture of the same man appeared on a military ID badge. "Staff Sergeant Greg Campbell, stationed as a squad leader at Camp Pendleton. LAPD got the ID and handed it over to us."

Sam nodded and pushed himself off the table. "Alright, Dom and I will take the victim's apartment. Eric, you got an address?"

The blond nodded and pressed a few more commands. Meanwhile, Sam turned to them and said "Kensi, take Deeks to the crime scene. Maybe he can be useful and liaise."

"Oh, ha ha Sam," Deeks glared, "you know that you couldn't work without me. Do I need to bring up the Riaz case again? I saved your ass, Kensi can back me up. Right, Kensi? Kensi? Hey, wait up!"