Marty Deeks' Really Bad Day

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Chapter 1: The Morning from Hell

You know it's gonna be a bad day when you step in chewing gum with your right foot and doggy doo with your left foot-and that's before you leave your bathroom!-
and you don't even chew gum!-and you don't even have a dog! - Author unknown.

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Before he even opened his eyes that morning, Marty Deeks instinctively knew that the day ahead wouldn't be a good one.

His first clue (yeah, he's a detective, so he totally pays attention to things like instinct and clues) was that which had rudely awoken him from a frankly awesome dream in the first place; the sound of howling winds in the street outside and the pouring rain hammering against the glass of his bedroom window. Los Angeles in August was supposed to be all surf, sunshine and skin on display. It was definitely not supposed to sound like that.

Then there was that ominous dripping sound from somewhere behind him, just off to the right of his bed.

With a resigned sigh, the blonde detective decided that he couldn't delay wakefulness anymore, despite the fact that his morning alarm was yet to sound and he'd been robbed of precious minutes of sleep. Warily, he rolled over towards the source of the dripping sound and and cracked open one eyelid, taking in the sight before him with an ever growing sense of dismay.

Okay, so that rather large puddle of rainwater should not be all over his bedroom floor, and last he checked, ceilings were supposed to keep things like the weather outside, not welcome it in for tea and cakes.

Shit.

Suddenly having a top story apartment wasn't as great as he remembered thinking it was.

Kicking the covers off, Deeks leapt out of bed and immediately dashed into his en-suite bathroom, grabbing some towels off the towel rail and a bucket from the under-sink cabinet, tipping the various bottles of cleaning products out of said bucket and straight into the bathtub, then charged back to the bedroom, strategically placing the bucket under the source of the leak and mopping up the pool or rainwater with the towels.

Stepping back and admiring his handy work (one small crisis temporarily averted, Marty 1 – Leaky Ceiling 0, for now at least…) Deeks let out a sigh of relief before sitting back down on the edge of his bed and reaching for his cell phone to check the time, reasoning that since it was still pretty gloomy outside, perhaps he could squeeze in an extra 15 minutes of dozing before he had to make the inevitable call to his grumpy landlord about the ceiling. Not to mention going to work!

His heart sank to his feet when he thumbed the screen and nothing happened. Despite being plugged into the charger all night, the phone's battery was completely dead.

As was the digital alarm clock on his bedside table…

And every other electrical devise he passed on the short, but very brisk walk to his lounge, where he'd left his watch the night before.

And when he saw that it was just gone 9.08am, which meant that not only was he not getting his extra 15 minutes in bed, but that he was also already 8 minutes late for work, he felt himself start to freak out just a little bit. 8 minutes late, and that was before the 5 minutes it would take him to get dressed and rush out of the house, and the 35 minute drive to headquarters, assuming the traffic wasn't too bad. And in this weather, bad traffic was a foregone conclusion.

He immediately thought about calling Kensi to let her know where he was, and beg her to apologise to Hetty for him for being late again, before remembering that his cell phone was dead, and the cordless land line phone would be unusable too due to the lack of power.

Shit! Shit! Shit!

Hetty & Kensi were so gonna kill him!

Leaping back into action, Deeks ran to the kitchen and set out fresh dog food and water for Monty, who was still curled up fast asleep on his armchair in the lounge, completely oblivious to the excitement of the morning.

The next port of call was the bedroom, where he quickly pulled on clean underwear, a 'pair' of odd-socks, yesterday's jeans, a fresh grey tee-shirt and plaid stripy wool sweater, and grabbed the in-car cell charging cable from his bedside cabinet, then back to the bathroom to hastily brush his teeth and run a hand through his perpetually messy hair.

Finally, he ran back to the hallway where he grabbed his car keys, brown leather jacket, gun and messenger bag before leaving the apartment and rushing out of the building.

By the time the detective reached the back door of his apartment building the wind was so strong that it was a full on battle just to get back door open. Putting his whole weight behind it, the door eventually opened, revealing the outside world and what had to be the most appalling weather Deeks had ever seen in Los Angeles in his life, horizontal rain, gale force winds and all.

After a moment's hesitation (what was a bit of bad weather in comparison to Hetty's wrath for being late?) Deeks pulled up his hood and ran out into the parking lot, heading towards where he'd parked his Malibu the night before.

There were no words to adequately describe the disappointment Deeks felt as he neared the vehicle and noticed that the front windshield was completely smashed in, a metal trash car lid lying smugly in the front passenger seat, surrounded by broken glass. There was no way he could drive the car to work in this condition.

With an angry cry born of pure frustration and a string of profanities that would have had Hetty washing his mouth out with soap and water had she heard, Deeks kicked the front fender of the car as hard as he could, and instantly regretted it when pain blossomed in his foot and straight up his ankle.

He must have really pissed someone off in a past life to deserve this kind of punishment!

For a moment he was at a loss as to what to do next. A huge part of him just wanted to go back to his apartment, crawl back into his bed, and sleep through the rest of this goat-rope of a day, but a smaller, more sensible part of him knew that this definitely wouldn't go over well with the team at work.

No, he was just going to have to deal with it.

Half running, half limping, Deeks, who was now soaking wet, made his way to the phone booth on the street out the front of his apartment. Digging into his messenger bag he fished out his wallet, dropped a few quarters into the coin slot* and dialled Kensi's number from memory, all the while bouncing on the spot to try and keep warm.

She answered on the third ring.

"This is Kensi…"

"Hey partner" he said, with none of his usual enthusiasm.

"Deeks! Where the hell are you? It's twenty past nine! I've been calling your cell for the last fifteen minutes." Deeks winced at the audible irritation in her tone and ran a hand down his face. "Sorry Kens, you will not believe the morning I'm having."

Something in his own tone of voice must have spoken to his partner, because when she spoke again her voice was substantially less annoyed. "Is everything alright?"

"Yeah," Deeks answered reflexively, before sighing and correcting himself. "Well, no actually… I'm am having the morning from hell! The power is out in my apartment block, my cell phone died, I overslept, my bedroom roof is leaking, I haven't had any coffee and this god-damn wind decided to fling a trashcan lid through the windshield of my car, so now I can't even drive to work. And I had to call you from a phone booth, which stinks of urine and god knows what else, so judging by the luck I've had so far today I probably have Tuberculosis now!" He paused for effect, before adding in pitiful tone of voice. "Can you come pick me up please?"

There was a pause and then, "sure, but you already owe me for the last time you were late for work Deeks. I'll be adding this to your I.O.U!"

"Really Fern? I thought partners were supposed to have each other's back, you know, for better or worse, in sickness and in health, and all that?"

"I think you are confusing our partnership with marriage," Kensi sighed jadedly.

Deeks smirked, dropping another couple of quarters into the payphone when it beeped to indicate that the pre-paid credit was ending. "Well we spend 75% of our waking week together. I'm always cleaning up after you, feeding you, and you constantly nag and abuse me. And you never put out. How could I not confuse this partnership for marriage?"

He could practically hear her roll her eyes.

"Do you want a ride or not Deeks?"

He couldn't resist it, it was too easy. "I'm sorry, do I want a 'what' now?"

Another pause.

"Okay, I'm hanging up now! Enjoy your 9 mile walk to headquarters. See you in 3 hours!"

"No! No! Don't hang up!"

Silence from the other end of the phone.

"Kens?

"Partner?

"Mimi? C'mon, I'm sorry, you know I was just kidding..."

There were a couple more moments of silence, before Kensi's slightly amused voice sounded through the receiver.

"We've had a break in the Anderson case anyway. I'll pick you up en route and brief you on the way."

The dial tone sounded, indicating that Kensi had hung up the phone. Replacing the handset, Deeks pulled his hood up once again and ran back across the street though the pouring raining towards his apartment. Arriving at his apartment door, he reached into his messenger bag looking for his apartment keys, and wasn't altogether surprised when he was unable to find them.

After all, locking himself out of his apartment really was the perfect end to the perfect morning!

With a dejected sigh, Deeks plunked himself down onto the floor, resting his back against his apartment door and settled himself to wait for his partner to come and rescue him from this shit-storm of a day.

Surely this day couldn't get any worse.

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