ejzah

***

*The Deeks family are walking on the pier, close to dusk*

Deeks, pushing the sleeping twins in a stroller: So, Rosalie what are you planning for this summer?

Rosa, shrugging: I’m going to pick up a few more hours at work. I also need to test out of a couple classes and I’m debating getting a couple core classes out of the way.

Kensi, teasing: Oh, is that all? *then more seriously* Please don’t burn yourself out. You’ve worked so hard this whole year. You deserve a break.

Rosa: Don’t worry, mom. In comparison to fall and spring semesters, I’ll be getting done with classes so early. I’ll have so much time to relax.

Deeks: Man, I remember when I had that much energy. Or at least could drink enough caffeine to feel like I had energy. *he pulls Rosa into a one-armed hug* We’re proud of you, Rose.

Rosa, smiling: Thank you.

Kensi: And maybe you can find time to squeeze in a vacation with us.

Rosa: I probably have a week or two free. *she smiles a little slyly* I think Steven wouldn’t mind coming along too.

***

On a Wave’s Edge, Part 3

Surprisingly, Kensi endured very little teasing on the way back to the mission. They were all too busy discussing how their original plan for Meyers would need to change. From Kensi’s point of view, the surfing lesson gave her a much better excuse to meet Meyers and let him win her over than their original plan.

By the time they arrived back in OPS, they’d settled on a basic plan, but Callen and Sam wanted thoroughly vet Deeks before sending her back in.

In the past, she’d worked with less trustworthy people under significantly worse conditions, so she wasn’t all that worried Deeks would raise any flags.

“Ok, what’s this guy’s name?“ Eric asked when they made it upstairs.

“Marty Deeks.”

“Let’s see if he’s as uninvolved in Branston’s schemes as he claimed,” Callen commented.

“He seemed pretty honest to me,” Kensi said without thinking. She regretted it immediately, especially when Callen and Sam turned to her with twin knowing looks.

“Oh, is that a note of admiration I hear in your voice?” Callen asked.

Kensi groaned internally; sometimes it really sucked to work with people who knew her so well.

“No, just my professional opinion. He didn’t try to hide anything from me and even thought of things that would help. But he was also wary enough that he didn’t appear overly eager to get on my good side.

“Didn’t hurt that he was flirting the whole time,” Sam observed.

“Ok, Martin A. Deeks,” Eric said, drawing everyone’s attention to the big screen. Martin Deeks, better known as just Deeks, is the sole owner of The Perfect Wave surf shop and has been since 2008. Oh, interesting.”

“What?”

“He has a law degree, but it looks like he left the profession after a brief stint with the district attorney’s office. His record’s clean.”

“He’s cute,” Nell said, then added, “And his business has 4.8 stars on Google Reviews.”

“Any ideas why he quit law so fast?” Sam asked. “Takes a lot of commitment to get through law school and pass the bar.”

“Not really.” Nell squinted as she typed and sorted through search results. “He had a couple of verbal reprimands from judges while presenting cases, but those didn’t lead anywhere. It looks like he struggled with defending some criminal defendants who were accused of pretty awful crimes and reported a few dirty cops to LAPD. So, I’m guessing that didn’t make him super popular.” Looking up, Nell swiveled her chair around.

“Any unusual contact with Meyers? Or unexplained windfalls?”

“He sent text messages to one of Meyers cells. Both asking for confirmation of lesson times. Meyers did not reply,” Eric summed up. “Which is very rude.” He opened up a page of financial information. “Business has been steady and good. I don’t see any usually large payments or debts.”

“Oh look, he hosts monthly surfing sessions for vets and other vulnerable groups,” Nell added suddenly, her voice softening as she tilted her head. A few pictures from a public Facebook page populated on the screen.

Kensi’s squeezed with something dangerously close to affection at the images of Deeks grinning in obvious delight as he helped a child stand atop a board. She gave herself a mental shake; this was ridiculous. She’d only met Marty Deeks a few hours ago. She shouldn’t feel anything for him.

“He sounds like a real boy scout,” Sam commented dryly, drawing Kensi’s attention back to the conversation. “Alright, it sounds like you’re safe to bring him into the operation.”

“Hope you stocked up on sunscreen,” Callen added, winking at her.

***

Kensi arrived at The Perfect Wave early the day before her scheduled lesson. Eric had handled all of the phone calls with Deeks, which Kensi both appreciated and regretted.

When she walked in, the shop was completely empty other than Deeks, who sat up front with what appeared to be a month’s worth of receipts.

“Hey, Special Agent Kensi Blye,” he greeted her, his smile genuine and open despite the hour and what she had to imagine was a great inconvenience.

“Good morning. Thank you again for doing this.”

“It’s for a good cause.”

“Is your employee around?” Kensi asked, looking around as if the kid she saw yesterday might pop out of one of the few aisles.

“Jake? Yeah, I asked him to come in late today,” he explained. “I figured you wouldn’t want him to overhear anything confidential.”

“That was really thoughtful of you. Are you sure you weren’t a police officer in another life?” Kensi said jokingly.

“I’m sure you know I was a lawyer. Confidentially is kind of a big deal.” He said it with a vaguely sardonic tone and she didn’t know if it was aimed at her or himself.

“Well, that makes my job a lot easier. Just to cover all of our bases, you obviously can’t tell anyone about this. I don’t anticipate this to be a dangerous operation, but by working with NCIS you may be put into dangerous or comprising circumstances,” Kensi rattled off. “Do you have any questions?”

Deeks inclined his head and pulled a face. “As a former lawyer, I definitely shouldn’t agree to such vague terms.“ He made a show of mulling it over, then rolled his eyes. “I already said I’d help. I’m not backing out now.”

“Good. Oh, um, and my alias is Melissa Warren.”

“Sweet! I’ve always wanted to be a spy.”

“You’re not getting an alias,” Kensi reminded him, even though she figures he was joking.

“And you just killed my dreams,” he sighed, pausing a beat and made Director eye contact. It was a little disconcerting and definitely overwhelming. “I agree to all your terms and conditions, Melissa.”

“That’s going to get old fast,” she muttered. “Ok, what are doing today?”

“First, you get to pick out a surfboard, wetsuit, and accessories and then you’re gonna get a surfing crash course.” He held up a hand as if expecting an objection. “Just for my peace of mind.”

“Thinks pretty highly of himself,” Sam observed. Kensi managed not to flinch at the sudden intrusion over comms. Nell was supposed to be monitoring, but she hadn’t known anyone else jumped on too.

“I’ve had a couple lessons,” Kensi said, neglecting to mention they’d been from Eric and she’d gotten frustrated after the third time she’d fallen. Or that she’d asked Eric for a refresher on boards last night.

“Good. Then this should be simple.” He stood up, setting the receipts to the side. Once again, he was wearing a blue t-shirt, though this one was a darker shade and he paired it with an equally tight pair of jeans.

Kensi followed the broad line of his shoulders down to his waist, where the hem of his shirt had ridden up, revealing a small strip of his lower back. Her cheeks flushed at the tanned skin and she had the sudden, ridiculous urge to touch it.

Deeks turned around before she could act on her absurd impulse, his smile turning to one of mild concern. He quirked an eyebrow at her. “Are you ok? You look a little…off.”

“I’m fine,” Kensi lied. “But you could invest in better air conditioning. It’s a little warm in here.”

“Uh-huh. I’ll bring it up to management.” He gestured across the room to a wall entirely lined with different surfboards. “Let’s find something that says ‘my name is Melissa and I’m definitely not a secret agent’.”

***

Caleb, loudly whispering: Daddy. Daddy! Daddy, it’s time to get up!

Deeks, groaning: I don’t know what time it is, but it definitely is not.

Sophia, whispering just as loudly: What’s he doin’?

Caleb: Sleeping! Shh, don’t wake mommy up.

Sophia, clambering up on the bed: Daddy, it’s morning time. We’re hungry. C’mon let’s eat pancakes and bueberries.

Deeks, lifting his head: Kids, I love you, but you gotta go back to bed. It’s not even light out.

Sophia, jumping off the bed to open the curtain: No, see the sun is up. It’s morning, daddy. You needa make beakfast.

Caleb, pulling at Deeks’ face: Why you so sleepy?

Kensi, still half-asleep: What’s going on? *Sophia jumps on her back* Agh!

***

Class is Dismissed

“Excellent argument, both of you, but I’m gonna side with Lizzy today. Better luck next time, Josh. Ericka and Carmen, you’re up next,” Deeks announced, reading off of the two slips of paper he’d pulled from a bucket on his desk. He leaned against the edge of the desk, facing the forty or so students in his Intro to Law class.

For their last session of the semester, he’d set up a mock trial experience. Each random pairing of “lawyers” had to defend a ridiculous argument, using the laws and strategies they’d learned throughout the semester.

Before Deeks could read out the next argument, a student raised her hand?

“Yes, Selena?”

“Professor Deeks, can I follow you on Instagram? You know, since this is our last day together?” she asked shyly.

“First of all, I’m still not a professor. Secondly, if I had an Instagram account, none of you would know about it.”

“Ok, what about Facebook?”

“Absolutely not.”

“We could meet up for weekly bagels and coffee,” a tall, red-haired boy suggested.

“They just opened a Dutch Bros. down the street,” another student with short brown hair said.

“Sweet! You better bring your mini van, Professor.”

“Marcus, as wonderful as that sounds, you’ll have to fund your own coffee habits for the summer,” Deeks told him not unkindly. Marcus had suggested everything from weekly catered breakfasts to skipping the midterm for a group trip to Hawaii.

“But aren’t you gonna miss us? We’re your favorite class,” Marcus insisted.

“You’re definitely my most entertaining class. I’m pretty sure my own children will help heal my heartbreak,” Deeks responded, unable to contain a chuckle as Marcus faked distress and several of his classmates teased him.

“I bet Rosa could convince you.”

“Oh no, you are not using my own daughter against me,” Deeks said, shaking his head before that idea gained any traction.

“You can bring your wife and the twins,” Selena offered kindly.

“Oh my god, they’re so cute!”

“Not happening.”

“What if we babysit in exchange. A little quid pro quo,” Ericka suggested.

Deeks pinched the bridge of his nose and held up a hand. “Ok, let’s not use that term in relation to any interaction we have.“

“If you won’t get us coffee, can you teach us how to surf?” Marcus continued.

“I already know how to surf.”

“Yeah, and you suck at it, Jason.”

“Alright, let’s get back on track,” Deeks called out, pointing to Ericka. “Come up and pick an argument.”

“What about,” Marcus said, holding both index fingers in the air. “Coffee and surfing lessons?”

Nephew, dismayed: I see that.

***

Just Know My Heart is Breaking Too, Part 30

“Good morning,” Kensi says, greeting Jared with a smile and a plastic cup and white paper bag. Despite letting Deeks distract her a couple more times this morning, she’s a little early.

“What’s this for?” Jared asks, cautiously accepting both. He peers inside the bag, pulling out a giant apple fritter. One of the few things they’ve shared in common is their love of pastries and Kensi’s not above borrowing from Deeks’ playbook.

“It’s a poor attempt to show of showing my appreciation for your hard work and apologize for being a terrible, cranky partner sometimes,” she explains. “I know it’s not much.”

“Okaaay.” Jared squints at her. “Are you dying?”

“Hilarious. Don’t make me eat your donut.”

“No take backs,” Jared says, quickly taking a bite of his fritter before Kensi can make good on her threat.

Kensi chuckles, feeling a hint of wistfulness. She will miss this. Even though she never bonded with Jared in the same way she had with Deeks, he’d been like a younger sibling in many ways.

He swallows his bite down with a mouthful of coffee, then gestures at Kensi. “So, what’s going on? You’re not angry and you’re not annoyed,” Jared observes. He pauses then carefully adds, “I’ve notice you’ve been in a better mood lately.”

“Damn, I’ve trained you too well,” Kensi laments jokingly. “You’re right, I have been in a better mood because I’m actually happy.” She inhales quickly, not certain why she’s so nervous about telling Jared. Maybe it’s because she knows the final outcome will end with him searching for a new partner. “Deeks and I got back together.”

Jared’s eyes widen with true surprise. “What?”

“Yeah, it was kind of unexpected.” With a shrug, Kensi smiles and actually laughs a little. Deeks would absolutely tease her if he could see how giddy just talking about them made her.

“Wow,” Jared says, then he’s smiling too. “That’s amazing. I’m happy for you, Kensi. And Deeks. Even though I only met him once, he seems like he must be a pretty good guy.”

“He is,” Kensi agrees. “And thanks. Hopefully we’ll do it right this time.”

“You will.”

“What makes you so confident?” Kensi wonders.

Jared chuckles and points his fritter at her. “Cause if you screw it up again, Nell will probably murder you.”

Me: Gets services approved and completes the special paperwork.

***

*Kensi and Deeks walk into OPS*

Kensi: Hey, how’s it going?

Fatima, sarcastically: Oh, wonderful. If you came for an update, I don’t have one yet.

Deeks, sympathetically: Rough day?

Fatima: I mean, I can’t find an apartment, so that’s great. And the Admiral is being weirdly nice and supportive. Almost..fatherly. Which is freaking me out a little.

Kensi, wincing: Yeah, house hunting really sucks. Sorry.

Deeks: What’s Kilbride doing?

Fatima, exasperated: He’s offering me tips and being understanding, but the whole he sounds like he’s in pain.

Deeks, thoughtfully: Maybe he’s been eating gluten again.

Kensi: Baby.

Deeks: Hey, you saw him after you gave him that bagel.

Kensi, shrugging: That’s true.

Fatima: That’s not really helpful to me.

Deeks, nodding: Right. What about a few drinks at our house? It’s no Squid and Dagger, but we do have snacks.

Fatima: That might actually help.

Kensi, nudging shoulder: And we can do karaoke.

***

*Kensi and Deeks walk in, more subdued than usual*

Deeks, bangs especially in his eyes: Morning.

Callen, squinting as he notices Deeks has a black eye: What the hell happened to you? You guys left at 8 last night. How did you have time to get into trouble?

Deeks, wincing: You don’t want to know.

Kensi, tightly: It was an accident.

Sam, jokingly: Did you and Kensi get a little too rough sparring.

Kensi, immediately: I did not hit him! At least, not on purpose.

Deeks, carefully: The incident was of a more…carnal nature.

Callen, raising an eyebrow: You mean she hit you—? *he raises his eyebrows and Deeks confirms with a nod*

Deeks: I should have weaved when she bobbed.

Sam: Well, you can’t say you two don’t find ways to keep the spark alive.

***

Callen, flipping Rebecca on his leg: And the plan does a 360 degree flip before soaring over the trees.

Deeks, smiling: Hey, you’re getting pretty good at that.

Callen: Yeah, it took me a while to figure out that she wasn’t going to break.

Rebecca: Gaag.

Callen: You wanna go again?

Caleb, whispering: Daddy, Becca not talking. What’s wrong with her?

Deeks, gently: There’s nothing wrong with her. She’s just still learning how to say words. You didn’t used to talk either when you were smaller. You used to be a baby.

Caleb’s astonished: No. I not a baby!

Kensi, nodding: Yes, you were, sweetheart. So was Sophia.

Sophia, thinking: But I a big girl baby. I not a little baby.

Caleb: We not babies.

Sophia: Ah-ha. We gonna teach Becca to talk. C’mon, Cayeb.

Callen, as the twins march off together: Should I be concerned?

Kensi: Eh, fifty-fifty odds.

***

On A Wave’s Edge, Part 2

“Do you have room for another client?”

“Why?” Deeks asked, now eyeing her warily, though she had a feeling he knew where this was headed.

“I need to get close to Branston Meyers, so you’re going to give me lessons too,” Kensi explained reasonably. Before she even finished speaking, he started shaking his head.

“Branston pays for one-on-one lessons and he’s not gonna like anyone else being there. He likes having all the attention on him.”

“Convince him.” Kensi gave him a playful look. “I’m sure you could be persuasive if you want to.”

“You have no idea,” Deeks said in a slightly hoarse voice that made Kensi’s stomach swoop pleasantly.

“Or I could always make it an official NCIS order,” Kensi suggested.

“You, uh, might have better luck with asking nicely. Historically, I don’t do well with being forced to do things.” He smirked, the expression slightly mocking and yet Kensi didn’t hate it.

“Then, Mr. Deeks, would you please help NCIS catch a serial con artist?”

“I’ll see what I can do,” he agreed. His eyes flicked over her. “Is there a number I can reach you at? You know, to let you know when to come.”

“Someone from my office will be contacting you. We have access to your information,” Kensi said, trying to get things back to a professional tone.

“That would be concerning new if you weren’t a federal agent.” Crossing his arms, he nodded to the row of boards lined up. “Do you have your own equipment? Board, wetsuit, wax, brush.”

“No,” Kensi admitted. “I can probably borrow what I need.”

Deeks chuckled at that, shaking a couple curls out of his eyes. “Yeah, that’s not going to work. If you want this cover to work, you’re going to need your own equipment.” He studied Kensi for a few moments. “Come the day before the lesson and I’ll get you set up with everything.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“No, I don’t. But I hate to see a surfer using stuff they’re not comfortable with. Beside, it’ll give you a chance to get acquainted with the shop and make sure you’re ready for your first lesson. Because the last thing you want is to rub your wax in the wrong way.”

“I think I could figure it out,” Kensi said dryly.

“That’s what everybody thinks. It takes a, uh, a practiced touch. You put too much on and you’ll slip right off.” He winked and Kensi couldn’t stop her smile in response.

“Well, we can’t have that. I guess you’ll have to show me all your special tricks.”

“I look forward to it.” His voice dropped again and Kensi realized he was openly flirting with her now and she didn’t mind at all. He held her gaze for a few extra seconds, then cleared his throat, and looked away as if pulling himself out of the moment. “I got a group lesson with twelve year olds in about twenty minutes, so you might want to leave before this place is overrun with children.”

“Right.” Kensi nodded quickly, holding out her hand before she could stop herself. Deeks took it after a second, humor in his eyes as he shook it once more. “I appreciate your help.”

“Anytime, Kensi Blye.”

Kensi turned away before she did anything truly embarrassing and exhaled quietly.

“Kensi, what did you just do?” Sam demanded in her ear. “That was completely off script.”

“I have to pivot,” she explained quietly. “I think this actually works better than our original plan.”

“Yeah, but did you have to plan a date while you were at it?” Callen asked.

“Shut up. I’m headed back your way.”

“What does your surf instructor look like?” Sam asked. “I want to get eyes on him. Make sure he isn’t tipping Meyers off.”

“He’s about six feet tall, curly blonde hair, blue board shorts,” Kensi rattled off, omitting the exact shade of his tan skin and blue eyes from her description. She picked her way around a family’s large sand castle and moat, trying to hurry, but not catch anyone’s attention. “He was the only instructor around, so he shouldn’t be hard to find.”

“Definitely wasn’t hard for you to find.” Before Kensi could object to Callen’s comment, he moved. “I’ll meet you two back at the SUV and we can head back to the mission.”

***

*Kensi, Callen, and Nell are in the bullpen and Deeks and Talia are across the room*

Kensi, faintly: She took my coffee.

Callen: What?

Kensi: Talia took my coffee. That Deeks got for me.

Nell, outraged: You’re joking.

Kensi, visibly shaken: No. Deeks walked in and started to hand me my coffee and she just swooped in and grabbed it. Like some caffeine-addicted vulture.

Callen, raising an eyebrow: Did you just compare Talia to a really ugly, predatory bird?

Nell, soothingly: It’s gonna be ok. Look, Deeks is back and I don’t see Talia around.

Deeks, grimacing: Sorry about that.

Kensi, crossing her arms: She took my coffee, Deeks.

Deeks: You know, Talia. She doesn’t really respect boundaries. Here, I got you a new one.

Kensi: Thank you. She better stay out of my way for the rest of the day. *she catches Deeks smiling* What?

Deeks, quickly: Nothing. You just, uh, look happy.

***

On A Wave’s Edge

Kensi pushed her sunglasses higher on the bridge of her nose, pretending to enjoy the view of the ocean as she looked out onto the beach. She noted the many swimmers, surfers, and sunbathers even as she kept an eye out for their suspect. Branston Meyers.

A former Army Sergeant, Meyers was now the prime suspect for a string of confidence schemes involving young women. He’d lure them in with fancy meals and trinkets under an alias, then quickly drain their bank accounts. It wasn’t the most sophisticated operation, but turned out to be surprisingly effective.

Callen and Sam were somewhere else on the beach, trying to be discreet. Between Callen’s general loner air and Sam’s impressive frame, that was a tricky order. Especially since Sam had unequivocally refused to wear trunks. With that in mind, they’d decided Kensi should take the lead.

She’d dressed the part in a short sundress over a bikini. With any luck, it would be enough to grab Meyers’ attention. According to the profile they had, Kensi fit Meyers’ type, which was mid-twenties to early thirties.

Moving along the pier, Kensi headed towards the beach, her feet sinking into the warm sand once she was off the platform.

“Kensi, I spotted our guy. He’s headed your way,” Callen said in her ear.

“Got it,” Kensi muttered. It took a few minutes, but eventually she picked Branston out from the group of similarly dressed men. He had his shoulder length hair pulled up in a man bun, wore black trunks, and carried a bright green surfboard.

Of course he had a man bun, Kensi thought as she moved towards him. Concealing her derision, she sped up, intending to “run” into Branston and play the damsel in distress.

At the last second, a group of loud and oblivious teenagers stepped in front of her. It gave Branston just enough time to get ahead of her and

“Dammit!”

“Kensi?”

“I’m fine,” Kensi assured Sam, weaving to keep Branston in sight. “Just taking a slight detour.” She continued to follow Branston, keeping back enough that he wouldn’t realize she was trailing him. Fortunately, he didn’t look back a single time.

Meyers kept walking until he reached a small surf shop. He bypassed the shop itself, instead approaching a tall blonde man dressed in a pale blue t-shirt and board shorts. Kensi held back, pretending to examine a set of wind chimes and touristy magnets displayed on a rack near the shop’s entrance while she

The surfer guy was industriously working on a surfboard, but looked up when Branston came into his field of vision.

“Hey, Kyle.” Surfer guy brushed his hair back, setting a small tool to the side, crossing his arms over his chest.

Kensi immediately guessed he wasn’t Branston’s biggest fan.

“Hey,” Branston replied, nodding to Surfer Guy with a sharp jab of his chin. “Are we good for today?”

“I told you, man, I need to be paid upfront,” he reminded him. He said something else, but a light breeze rattled the wind chimes and Kensi missed it.

“You’ll get your money,” Branston said sharply. “I expect to see you on Wednesday.”

“I’ll be here with bells on.” Then Surfer Guy lowered his head again and resumed his work, effectively ending the conversation. Kensi quickly ducked inside the shop before Branston could see her. She’d lost her chance for to fake a run-in.

The teenaged employee inside gave her a cursory glance before looking at the phone in his hand again.

“Branston just made some kind of deal with a surfer. I’m gonna see what he knows,” Kensi informed Callen and Sam under her breath. If the teenager thought it was odd she was talking to herself, he didn’t show it. Peering around a display of board wax and brushes, Kensi saw that Branston was several yards in the distance.

Walking back outside, she found the surfer in the same spot, though now he was working on a different board.

“Hi, can I help you?” he asked pleasantly. Much more pleasantly than he’d spoken to Branston. He even smiled, his upper lifting crookedly. It was a nice smile that lit up his entire face and extended to his blue eyes.

Kensi cleared her throat. “Do you work here?”

“Kind of. I’m the owner, Marty Deeks.” He gestured to the shop and held his hand out. Kensi took it automatically, her skin heating at his firm grip. “Are you looking to sign up for classes? Maybe a new board?”

“Actually, no. I’m Special Agent Kensi Blye, NCIS,” Kensi said, pulling her wallet from inside her dress. Deeks lifted an eyebrow, but didn’t make any comments as he accepted her ID and examined it thoroughly.

Kensi was impressed he took the time since most people just accepted her at her word. Maybe it was another sign he’d been engaging in criminal behavior.

“Hello, Agent Kensi Blye. I’d didn’t realize you guys had a beach division,” he commented. “Do I need to call my lawyer?”

“Hopefully not. Why were you talking with Branston Meyers?”

Deeks repeated the name, his eyebrow arching, this time in confusion.

“Kyle,” Kensi clarified, remembering the name Deeks had used. “It’s one of his aliases.”

“Well, that’s not a good sign,” Deeks drawled. He settled a hand on one hip. “Kyle—Branston—takes surfing lessons here. What is he supposed to have done?”

“You don’t seem that surprised by any of this,” Kensi observed.

With a shrug, Deeks exhaled noisily. “He’s kind of an ass.”

Kensi snorted. “That sounds about right. Meyers is wanted in connection with a fraud case. Specifically stealing money from young women after pretending to date them.”

“Wow. And he can’t even manage to pay me a hundred bucks a week for his surfing lessons,” Deeks said. “That’s awful. Are these women ok?”

“Physically, yes. Financially and otherwise, not really,” Kensi responded. A plan was starting to form as she talked. She eyed Deeks, trying to see any signs that he was lying to her. “How often does Branston taken lessons with you?”

“Usually once a week. Sometimes twice.”

“Can you think of any information he’s told you that might be helpful to our investigation?”

“Uh…” Deeks scratched his chin. “He told me he works in finance and almost always manages to slip in comments about his fancy house or luxurious vacations. Honestly, I try to talk to him as little as possible because he’s a smug creep. I just didn’t know how much of a creep,” he said, shrugging apologetically.

“Hmm. Is he any good? At surfing,” Kensi clarified.

Deeks chuckled. “No. He’s one of my worst students, but he thinks he’s amazing. He’s tried to give me tips a few times.”

“Perfect,” Kensi, smiling when Deeks gave her a confused look. “Do you have room for another client?”

***