Title – Aftermath

Author: Ceindreadh
Genre: Gen, hurt/comfort
Characters: Hetty, Deeks
Rating: T
Summary: Post ep to Human Traffic

Word count: ~ 900

Warnings: none
Disclaimer. I don't own the NCIS LA characters, I'm only borrowing them, no copyright infringement is intended.

Deeks sat at the bar, nursing his cup of tea with both hands. Beside him on the counter sat a container of medication as prescribed by the Police Department medic. Deeks was pretty certain that the vet who'd patched him up the previous day had had a much better bedside manner. Then again, he thought as he took a sip from the tea, Emilio's bodyguards had probably paid better than L.A.P.D. did.

It was hard to believe that it had only been that morning when he'd woken from a drugged sleep, battered and bruised and wondering who he could turn to. Hard to believe that barely twenty four hours ago he'd escaped death by mere seconds. He'd showered twice at Hetty's safe house, but he still couldn't get rid of the smell of burning.

Hands suddenly shaking, Deeks lowered the cup to the counter, knocking the pill container over as he did so. He watched it roll slowly to the edge of the counter and then fall to the ground. Another day he might have reached out and caught or at least tried to catch it mid fall, but right now, Deeks was feeling just too stiff and sore to even try. "It'll still be there when I'm ready to leave," he told himself. "Time enough to get it then."

"Allow me, Mr. Deeks."

The sudden voice beside him made Deeks jump slightly. Feeling somewhat unnerved at how easy it had been for somebody to approach him unnoticed, Deeks took a sip from his tea to allow him time to collect his thoughts. Granted, it *was* Hetty who was standing beside him, and if she didn't want to be noticed, Deeks was pretty sure she wouldn't be, no matter *how* alert he was.

"You know," said Deeks, "We have got to stop meeting like this. People are going to talk."

Hetty settled herself onto the seat next to Deeks, and replaced the pill container on the counter. "I make it a point never to listen to idle gossip, unless of course it's relevant...or salacious."

Deeks almost choked on his tea. Recovering quickly, he asked, "Can I get you anything, Hetty?"

"I'll have tea."

They waited in silence until the tea arrived. Hetty took a sip and nodded approvingly.

"I'd advise you to take these as directed," said Hetty, pushing the pill container towards Deeks. "I imagine you're still 'stinging' somewhat after all you've been through."

"Only when I breathe," said Deeks, trying to force a smile on his face.

"I don't just mean physically."

"Ah, so you know about my run-in with Internal Affairs? I think I'd take a session with Lazik and his goons any day over an I.A. debriefing."

"Surely there was no blame attached to you for today's events? Or indeed, Detective Traynor's interactions with Emilio Ortega?"

Deeks shook his head, "Wasn't that. But probably the one thing that cops hate worse than a dirty cop, is a cop that brings down a dirty cop. That's why everybody hates I.A., and I.A. hate it when somebody else does their job for them. Makes them look bad." He took another sip from his cup, realizing that the tea was getting cold. "Course half the department weren't speaking to me anyway before you recruited me. Half the rest of them probably think I'm dirty, no matter what I.A. are saying." He forced a laugh before adding, "Maybe you should think about getting a new 'liaison'."

Hetty didn't reply immediately. She took a drink from her cup before replacing it carefully on the saucer. "I'll be needing my key back."

Deeks felt like he'd been punched in the stomach, again. "I was jok…" He fumbled in his pocket for the key, and put it down on the counter, but somehow he couldn't just let go of it. "I'm sorry Hetty. I know I screwed up today." He squeezed the key in his hand. "Should have stayed in the safe house where you put me, but when Lazik called, arranged the meet…I just wanted to finish the job…I understand if you're pissed that I didn't do as you said. And if you don't want me as a liaison because of it…I guess, guess I can't really blame you…" He looked up as Hetty's hand covered his.

"Mr. Deeks, the reason I asked you for my key, the *only* reason, is because I'll need to have it ready for the next time one of my team needs a safe house. And includes you."

"So you mean, you still want me back? Even after I screwed up?"

"You did what you felt you had to do," said Hetty, "Sometimes unfinished business, needs to be…finished."

"It's not finished though," said Deeks, staring into his cup. "Emilio's dead, but he wasn't the only one with contacts. There's other's like Lazik out there, more girls being trafficked. Jess is dead…"

"There will always be people like Mr. Lasik and Mr. Ortega," said Hetty. "But there will always be people like Detective Traynor and Detective Deeks to stop them." She finished her tea and stood. "Go home, Detective Deeks. Rest, and I'll see you in the morning. Don't forget, we start at nine thirty."

The end