A/N: In my story "Never Have I Ever," I mentioned that Deeks had been engaged to a woman named Andrea when he was in law school. This story features a case where she crosses paths with him again. It's not necessary to read it in order for this story to make sense, but it's there if you'd like to.

This takes place towards the end of season 3. After Blye K (3x16/3x17), before Neighborhood Watch (3x22).

Also, please bear with me through this first chapter. It's setting up Andrea's involvement in the case, so it mostly features her.

I own almost nothing in this story.

"That guy was so ridiculous." Kensi turned the key to the SRX as Deeks climbed into the passenger seat. "I can't believe he thought he'd get away with that."

Deeks laughed. "Yeah, and he would have if it wasn't for us meddling kids."

"How astute of you, Shaggy."

"And I suppose you think you're Velma, using a word like astute."

"Of course I'm Velma. I'm the smartest one."

"I think Nell would have something to say to that."

"Whatever." Kensi shook her head and smiled. "I think we can all agree that you're Shaggy."

"And Callen would be Fred. He would look amazing wearing an ascot."

"And who would Sam be in this weird alternate universe of yours?"

"Probably Daphne."

Kensi almost choked as she tried to stiffle her laughter. "I'm telling him you said that."

"Yeah, well I'm telling him you laughed."

"Okay, forget it. This conversation never leaves this car."

Deeks smiled. "You mean the Mystery Machine?"

"You are such a loser." She couldn't help but smile. "Change of subject. Food. We need to get some food. After the day we've had, that's all I care about right now."

"Food is all you care about all the time."

"Seriously, Deeks. Such a loser."

His phone rang and he pulled it out of his pocket. "That's weird."

"What?"

"646 area code." His brow furrowed as he stared at his still-ringing phone.

"New York City."

"Very good. Maybe we should call you Velma."

She rolled her eyes. "Just answer it."

He touched the screen and held it up to his ear. "Go for Shaggy."

"M... Marty?"

Deeks felt his stomach drop as he heard the voice. "Yes. Who is this?" There was no point in asking because he knew exactly who it was.

"Marty. I... It's Andrea... Marty, I need your help."

Five days earlier.

Andrea Vanderlin climbed the stairs to her fifth floor apartment, annoyed that the elevator was not fixed today as the super had promised. Carrying her messenger bag along with groceries certainly didn't make it any less annoying.

Shuffling everything in her arms, she rummaged for her keys and relished a sense of accomplishment at not dropping anything. Once inside, she deposited her messenger bag by the door and the groceries on the kitchen counter. Now, it was time to celebrate making it up those stairs at the end of a long day. And by celebrating, she meant putting on some comfortable clothes, curling up with her favorite book and a glass of wine, and forgetting her troubles for a little while.

Work was stressful, but that was nothing new. Being a tax attorney for a Manhattan law firm that represented big clients never gave her much down time. Especially this time of year.

She was very good at her job. But in the quiet moments, she wondered if this was really what she wanted for her life. When she had been in law school, was this how she would have pictured her future self? Working eighty hours a week, wading through tedious laws and rules and guidelines, coming home to an empty apartment.

An apartment that had not always been empty.

Julian had moved out two months ago. She stopped wearing her wedding ring about a month later. She still loved him and he still loved her. Of that, there was no doubt. The thought of actually going through a divorce made her sick to her stomach. But they had issues. Mainly, being married to their jobs more than they were to each other.

They had tried counseling and reading relationship books and making time for each other, but they both decided that maybe some time apart would be best. But in two months time, nothing was clearer, except for the fact that she couldn't imagine life without him, yet still couldn't quite figure out how to move forward with him.

It was times like this that she missed him the most. When it was too difficult to turn off her racing mind after work. When she wanted a conversation that didn't involve numbers or deadlines. She missed making dinner with him. More often than not she would find herself wondering if it'd be wrong to just have chips and salsa for dinner rather than just cooking for one.

Wearing yoga pants and an old t-shirt, she sank into her favorite chair with East of Eden and a glass of Malbec. She had first read it as an undergrad and completely fell in love with it. Now it was her go-to book when she needed to decompress. This particular copy had been a gift when her original one had accidentally been scooped up with a load of laundry. It didn't survive the washing machine and the guilty party felt bad and replaced it. It had been purchased at a used book store and was already in rough shape when it was given to her. Yet, it was still one of her most prized possessions. The message written inside the front cover still made her smile even after all these years.

Anders -
I still don't understand why you love this book so much. It's super depressing and there are no car chases in it. But you love it and I love you.
- Marty

As she opened the book, she noticed a piece of paper that had not been there before. Unfolding it, she recognized Julian's handwriting immediately.

"Pacific City Bank," she read out loud. How did this get here?

Deciding it wasn't worth thinking about right now, she stuck it back where she found it and pushed it from her mind.

"This is Julian Edwards. Please leave a message and I'll get back to you as soon as I can."

This was the third day in a row getting his voicemail. The note in her book made her curious enough to call him. Curiosity was turning into concern when he didn't answer any of her messages or texts.

"Hey there. It's me again. I just wanted to run something by you, but now I'm getting kind of worried. Please let me know you're still alive." She chuckled a little before hanging up, wanting it to seem like she was joking. But she was trying to convince herself more than anyone else.

What could he be up to? It's probably nothing. He's probably just busy at work.

Julian was an information security analyst. As with her, he was good at what he did and put in long hours at his office. Despite his workaholic tendencies, it was unusual to not hear from him for this long. Unable to shake this uneasiness, she dialed his office number and entered his extension.

"This is Julian Edwards. Please leave a message and I'll get back to you as soon as I can."

"Really, Jules. You have to have the same voicemail message everywhere? Anyway, please call me." She hung up and redialed, this time entering zero for the receptionist.

"RNB Securities. This is Seth."

"Hi, Seth. I was looking for Julian Edwards. Is he available?"

"No, Mr. Edwards is not in at this time. Would you like to speak to one of his associates instead?"

"Um.. sure. Thank you."

"You're welcome. Let me put you through."

She waited on hold for a full minute before hearing a familiar voice. "This is Michael."

Julian's boss. Surprised, she didn't respond immediately. "Um..."

"Hello?"

"Sorry. Hi, Michael. This is Andrea, Julian's wife."

"Andrea. Nice to hear from you. Haven't seen you around since the Christmas party. How are things with you?"

"Fine, things are fine. Um, I actually called because I was looking for Julian. I haven't heard from him in a few days and I just wanted to see if he was alright."

"No, he's not here. Actually, we sent him away for a few days. We needed him to set up a system for a client in Chicago."

"Really? Well, that's kind of good news. I've been trying to reach him and he hasn't responded to any of my messages. I was really starting to worry."

"No need to worry."

She chose to ignore his slightly condescending tone. "It's just so strange, though. That he wouldn't have told me before leaving."

"I'm sure that 'informing the ex-wife of travel plans' just wasn't on his agenda." He chuckled, but she failed to see the humor in his joke.

"I'm still his wife, Michael."

"Yes. Yes, of course you are, but still... it's really not that unusual that he wouldn't have told you, given how things are between you two."

Heat rose in her face. She was so done with this conversation. She was not going to listen to this man comment on her relationship anymore. She thanked him for his time and hung up.

She didn't like that one bit and it had nothing to do with the fact that Michael was an insensitive jerk. As much as he insisted there wasn't anything to worry about, she knew her husband. She knew him better than his boss did. She simply refused to accept that he would have left town, even for a couple days, without telling her. Throughout their separation, they still communicated almost everyday. Michael's insisting that there was nothing to worry about only increased her apprehension.

She was certain that she was being dismissed. Whether Michael knew more than he was letting on was another question.

She pulled out the piece of paper and looked at it again. How did it get in the book? It wasn't there the last time she had sat down to read. She was positive of that. What changed between then and now?

She racked her brain and then remembered. About a week ago, he had stopped by with donuts from her favorite bakery. He claimed they were left over from the office, but she didn't believe that for a second. Still, she appreciated the gesture and didn't question his motives. During his visit, there would have been plenty of time for him to slip the paper in her book.

Now the question was why. Why would he place this scrap of paper in her book? Could he have dropped it and maybe knocked the book over at the same time, placing it in there by mistake? That didn't seem likely.

He knows how much I love this book. This was something I was going to find soon. He had to have known that and put it there on purpose. I'd bet money on it.

But the question was still why.

Pacific City Bank. She had an open account with this bank when she was living in Los Angeles, but she hadn't used it since she moved to New York. She didn't know Julian when she opened it and she never even added his name to the account. Most of the time, she forgot she still had it.

She decided that it wouldn't hurt to call them and check up on it. Digging through file folders in her desk, she was relieved to see that she had kept at least one statement, saving her from having to remember the account number.

"Good afternoon. Pacific City Bank. How many I help you?" asked a sunny voice.

"Hi, my name is Andrea Vanderlin and I had a question about my account."

"Okay, Miss Vanderlin. I can help you with that. What's your account number?"

She read out the twelve digits at the top of her statement. "It's been several years since I lived in LA and I just wanted to see if it's still active."

"Yes, it is. In fact, it says here that you recently added your husband's name to the account and added items to your safe deposit box."

"What? Um... are you sure you have the correct account?"

"I believe so. The names Andrea Vanderlin and Julian Edwards? Is that correct?"

"Yes it is. That's strange. Um... when where the items added?"

"About a week ago."

"Does it say what they are?"

"No, ma'am. We don't keep those kind of records."

She was stunned. The more she looked for answers, the more questions were popping up. She was also getting more and more concerned for her missing husband.

"Is there a problem, Miss Vanderlin?"

"No, no, not at all. It's just... life here is so crazy, I can't remember things that happened yesterday, let alone a week ago." She laughed, trying (and probably failing) to sound casual. "No, I guess it just slipped my mind. Thank you for your help."

So what do I know now? She made a mental list, attempting to calm her nerves. The note, his supposed business trip, his boss' strange behavior, and now this. Julian had left the note at her apartment and added his name to an account of hers in a bank across the country. He gained access to a safe deposit box there and apparently put something in it. He intentionally left a clue pointing to this fact in a place she would find. But why?

She dismissed the idea of going to the police. She had no real proof to base her worries on.

It had been almost a decade, but maybe it was time for a trip to LA.

She grew more and more anxious as the 747 pulled into its terminal at LAX. She prayed that she would find answers at the bank.

She had to beg and grovel and cash in every favor she had to get the time off work. Still, her boss gave a not-so veiled threat of maybe not having a job when she returned. Taking time off in the first quarter was just not allowed. But she didn't care. Even if she was fired, she just didn't care. So many times during her relationship with Julian, she choose her job over him. This time, it wasn't going to happen. Not when she was convinced that he needed her now more than ever.

She was in a daze as she collected her luggage and got her rental car. She punched the bank address in the GPS and headed off. Surprisingly, she remembered her way around the city better than she thought she would.

Less than a hour later, she was at her destination, thankful for made it there before closing. She grabbed her messenger bag with all the appropriate documents and the key. When she found the key in her desk drawer at home, she was positive that there should have been two copies. She was convinced that Julian took one of them, probably during the same visit when he hid the note. Taking a few deep breaths before walking through the door, she didn't want anyone to pick up on her nervousness or uncertainty. She had even put her wedding ring back on before leaving New York. That's right. Nothing strange going on here. Just a woman traveling thousands of miles for an impromptu appearance at a bank she hasn't been to in years to find out what her husband hid there. People do this all the time.

A receptionist with a cheerful smile greeted her. "Good afternoon, how can I help you?"

"Yes, I need to see my safe deposit box."

"Certainly, I can help you with that."

Less than ten minutes later she was in the vault with the same cheerful receptionist.

"Can I help you with anything else, Miss Vanderlin?"

"No, that was it."

"I'll give you some privacy. Just call for me when you're all done."

Andrea waited to open the box until she was out of sight. She wasn't sure what to expect, which made her even more nervous.

Okay, Julian. You brought me this far. Please be alright, wherever you are.

She lifted the lid and saw a single USB thumb drive. She let out the breath she had been holding and stared at it. She was hoping for something... just something more. Obviously this drive was important, otherwise he wouldn't have gone through all this trouble. But it lead to more questions instead of answers. She picked it up and placed it in her bag.

She was back in her rental car on her way to the hotel, anxious to delve into the drive. She looked into her rear-view mirror and noticed a black Lincoln two cars back. She was certain that it had been following her since leaving the bank parking lot. She purposefully made a couple wrong turns to see if they would follow. Each time she turned, they were not far behind her.

Suddenly, a loud sharp noise pierced her ears and she noticed her drivers' side mirror was gone. Then the back window shattered. Running on pure adrenaline and instinct, she floored the gas peddle. She made turn after turn hoping to lose those who had opened fire on her.

No longer seeing the Lincoln behind her, she pulled into a crowded Macy's parking lot and tried to catch her breath, tried to not be sick. She suppressed the urge to just start sobbing, realizing that if she was in danger right now, then so must Julian.

Come on, think. They can't be that far behind you. They're going to find you eventually. Think.

She needed help and there was only one person who was coming to her mind. Trembling, she reached for her phone and searched through her contact list. Praying that she still had his number, praying that he would answer. Time seemed to stop as she waited. Each ring brought on a new wave of panic.

Finally, there was a voice she hadn't heard in many years. "Go for Shaggy."

"M... Marty?"

"Yes. Who is this?"

"Marty. I... It's Andrea." She took a deep breath. "Marty, I need your help."