Author's Note:

Alright, I am back, well, I hope I am anyway. I'm trying but I'm just not feeling the creative juices right now. Still, I found the outline for this chapter buried in my computer and decided that I couldn't let it go to waste. Now, I'm not super pleased with it, the ending in particular, but because we actually get to see Hetty extend the job offer to Deeks, I found it far more difficult to flesh that part out without simply describing the scene we all saw on TV. That being said, I enjoy the start and as that's really the focus anyway I hope it'll be fine. Please enjoy.

Chapter Five

Deeks (2009/2010)

Sometimes, on those rare days when the world took a break from killing each other, Hetty would go for a drive. The tradecraft which had been a crucial part of her life for so long made certain that she never drove the same route twice but in all honesty that was part of the joy she found in the activity. Some days she would leave the hustle and bustle of the city completely, heading well past the outskirts of town and driving endlessly without passing another soul until the fuel gage demanded her return. Other days the need to see what it was she fought for day in and day out led her to remain within the city limits, weaving her way through all the popular gathering places just to watch the many people who would never know who she was. Even the inner city traffic could be relaxing if one looked at it in the right frame of mind. It was on one of those days, as she navigated bumper to bumper traffic, that she met Marty Deeks.

Having returned to Los Angeles only two weeks before, Hetty found herself driving the city streets far more often than ever if only to chase away the images which had greeted her upon her return. Lara Macy's helpless face as she informed her that Callen still hadn't regained consciousness and the doctors couldn't even offer up confirmation that he would; Sam Hanna's exhausted form sitting vigil at his fallen partner's bedside; Kensi Blye's endless pacing of the hospital's halls and Agent Callen himself, pale as death and closer to it than any man should be permitted to get with five bullet holes riddling his body. Even now, there was no sure sign of improvement though the fact that he was still breathing (albeit with the constant help of innumerable machines) gave her the smallest shred of hope. So she drove, willing that hope to grow, if only temporarily, and forcing those images to fade to the back of her mind, giving her a well needed reprieve.

It was only when the fuel light came on and the gas gage set up camp on Empty that she finally put an end to her drive. Pulling into the nearest self-serve station, Hetty set about refilling the tank of her Jaguar when the unmistakeable odour of poor personal hygiene reached her nose. Replacing the nozzle calmly she allowed her training to take over and identified the source of the smell as a homeless man making his way unsteadily towards her. She couldn't help but wrinkle her nose as the true power of the man's stench became apparent.

"Spare change? Ya got any spare change?"

Hetty considered the dishevelled man curiously, taking in every detail from the trembling hand held out pleadingly in her direction to the several week old beard and unwashed blond hair poking out from beneath a dirt streaked tuque. "I do not," she replied after a moment.

The man took a few steps forward, as if testing his boundaries, and waved the extended hand slightly. "Ya sure? Nothin' at all? I'd take a buck, ma'am, just a buck or two."

He was close enough now that the tiny Operations Manager could smell his breath wafting towards her, a slight minty tinge to it. Hetty smiled. "You know, I may have a few, as you say, bucks, on me. Why don't you let me buy you something nutritious? Perhaps a cup of tea as well? I hear there's a lovely place just a block from here."

"Uhh..." the man looked understandably confused by the sudden change in her demeanour but, to his credit, he faltered only for a moment, "You know, I got this thing 'gainst ridin' with strangers."

"What about walking with strangers?" the tiny woman suggested helpfully, "I could leave my car here, if you prefer." The man looked decidedly unconvinced and Hetty, admittedly impressed by the performance, offered up a sigh. "I simply would like to make certain my money is going to the right place."

"I swear I'll buy somethin' good for me, how 'bout that?"

Hetty chuckled softly. "Are you really going to deny a woman some company?"

The man blinked once then, slowly, a smile worked its way onto his face. " 'Course not, ma'am."

A few minutes and one park job later, Hetty and her foul smelling distraction were walking slowly down the sidewalk together. There was no shortage of strange looks being thrown their way, as almost everyone they passed seemed to feel the need to do a double take at the sight of the tiny, well dressed woman walking shoulder to shoulder with the tall, homeless man. The man, Randy (or so he said,) still seemed somewhat uncomfortable with the whole situation but the Operations Manager couldn't have been happier. For the first time since she walked into the hospital two weeks ago she had a new project to distract her. A potential new agent.

They reached the cafe in no time and Hetty ushered Randy to a table in the corner, well away from the other patrons, before ordering tea and a sandwich for both of them. She even brought their meals to the table herself to prevent the staff from getting a whiff of her guest's stench.

"Thank you," said Randy politely as she passed him his food.

"You're very welcome," she replied, taking a seat opposite him and setting her own meal out neatly on the table before sipping her tea, "It's been a while since you've been treated to anything, I'm sure."

The man nodded, wisely keeping his mouth shut as he had just taken a large bite of sandwich.

"So, tell me a bit about yourself, Randy," Hetty continued, allowing just the tiniest of smiles to work its way on to her face.

Gulping down what was left of his mouthful, the blond haired man shrugged and gave her a cheeky sort of grin. "Well, I'm a Capricorn, I love surfing and long walks on the beach..."

The Operations Manager very nearly rolled her eyes. "This is not a dating service," she reprimanded gently, and was rewarded with an almost sheepish smile from across the table, "Perhaps we should start again. Let us both tell each other something about ourselves that no one else knows."

Randy actually did roll his eyes, but he was smiling slightly. "I feel like I'm at a girl's slumber party," he teased, sipping at his tea as though to prove his point, "But fine. Ummm..." His eyes travelled to the left as he contemplated possible answers. "Well, back in the sixth grade I was nearly killed by a snake…"

It was nearly a year after that afternoon of tea and small talk that Hetty decided to make her move at last. When Randy the homeless man had finished eating, all those months before, she'd sent him on his way, leaving her the simple task of taking his tea cup with her to run for fingerprints. Eric had found a match in less than twenty minutes, and she'd filed the information away, waiting for the opportune moment to arrive. When Jason Wyler appeared in their investigation she knew it was time.

Lying to her team was never pleasant but she knew it was necessary. If either Sam or Detective Deeks (aka Jason Wyler aka Randy the homeless man) knew of the other's true identity they would never have fought well enough to convince the Warriors they wanted in and the whole Op would have been blown. Besides, admitting she had prior knowledge of Marty Deeks' identity would only cause friction with the LAPD, something she was eager to avoid. And so, she feigned ignorance right up until the detective got both himself and her agent arrested.

The rest of the case was a job interview for the young man. Could he work with her team? Could he handle himself? Did he have their backs? The moment he got to Sam's side in time, she knew, and she made damn sure Vance approved her request for a liaison officer. And the next time they came face to face, at a bar this time, she made certain she got more than his fingerprints.