#surfer deeks

***

On a Wave’s Edge, Part 5

Kensi had spent another three hours with Deeks, practicing various beginning techniques. Although she had agility on her side, it turned out that she was lacking some of the fundamental skills that would ensure she didn’t spend all her time crashing.

Deeks seemed to possess infinite patience even when Kensi’s frustration broke through. By the end of the session, he deemed her ready and sent her off with her new collection of surfing gear.

The next morning, she was back on the beach, this time headed for the first lesson with Branston. She paused about thirty yards from the surf shop, rolling her back to ease the ache from carting around a surfboard and duffel bag.

“You ready for this?” Callen asked. Both he and Sam seemed unusually worried about her despite this being one of the easiest cases they’d worked in a while.

“I think I can handle seducing a pompous LA con artist,” Kensi muttered, taking a moment to check her bikini top was in place. She’d gone with a deep teal shade and a tad smaller than her usual preference, with the hope that it would draw Meyers’ attention.

“I know you can. Just don’t get complacent because this guy hasn’t been violent yet. That can always change,” Sam reminded her.

“Got it. Now everybody shut up and let me get to work.”

Deeks was waiting for her when she walked up. He already wore his wetsuit, though he had it peeled down to his waist and had a light blue surfboard standing up in the sand.

If she’d thought he looked good in a t-shirt and jeans, the sight of his perfectly tan skin was even more impressive.

Keep it together, Kensi, she told herself.

“Hey.” Deeks offered her a warm smile as she reached him, and he took the duffel bag, much to Kensi’s relief. She noticed eyes dipping to her chest for a second before he caught himself and quickly looked back up. “You’re early.”

Kensi bit back a smile and definitely didn’t stand a little straighter in response. “Hi. I wanted a few minutes to debrief,” she explained. “Make sure we have our stories straight.”

“You’re Melissa Warren. You’re 31 years old, work for an art gallery, and you’re trying to find more of a work-life balance. You adore 90s movies and long walks on the beach,” Deeks rattled off, folding his arms over his chest. “Did I miss anything?”

For inexplicable reasons, Kensi found it incredibly sexy. “Not bad, but I don’t recall the part about the movies,” Kensi noted.

“I improvised.”

“Just remember we need him to like me but also think I’m stupid enough to buy into his con.”

“I think I can manage that,” Deeks assured her. He used a finger to gesture to her vaguely. “You might want to get changed now. It always takes longer than I plan on.”

“I thought Meyers should get a good look before we get started,” Kensi told him teasingly. “You don’t think it’s too much, right?”

Deeks nodded several times, ruffling his hair as he deliberately looked past her. It was kind of adorable. “Yeah, no, it’s exactly enough. Some might say perfect.”

“Oh, you think—”

***

Kensi turned around in time to see Branston Meyers stalking towards them. He wore navy blue board shorts that looked uncomfortably tight and his hair down today; it almost reached his shoulders. Long hair didn’t suit him, Kensi thought uncharitably.

“Dude, what the hella. Did you give my time away again?” Branston demanded, with way more aggression than the situation warranted in Kensi’s opinion.

“Morning to you too, Meyers,” Deeks replied dryly. He gestured to Kensi. “This is Melissa and this was the only time that worked for her. I figured you wouldn’t mind too much,” Deeks explained easily. “Melissa this is Branston.”

Branston’s eyes flicked over Kensi as if he’d actually noticed her for the time. Unlike Deeks, he didn’t hide his obvious appraisal of her outfit. Or lack there of.

“Nice to meet you,” Kensi said, holding out her hand. Branston gave her a perfunctory handshake. “I told Marty I needed a different time and he is so accommodating.” She offered Deeks a friendly smile, then immediately turned her attention back to Branston, resting her hand on his forearm. “I hope you don’t mind too much.” She gave a slightly airy giggle.

Branston shifted slightly, seemingly thrown off by her friendliness, and made a dismissive sound. “As long as you don’t get in my way,” he decided.

“Perfect.” Kensi gave his arm a squeeze, working in another giggle.

“So we’re all friends now?” Deeks drawled. “Fantastic. Get your boards waxed and suits on.” He wandered away to presumably give them space.

Kensi set up across from Branston, purposely facing and started rubbing wax into her board, purposely using a slightly circular motion. She certainly hoped Branston was watching her because she was already sweating and somehow, her arm felt as if she’d just finished an especially intense workout.

A shadow suddenly fell over her and she paused to glance up.

“What kind of wax are you using?” Branston asked, folding his arms as he looked down on her.

Coming up on her knees, Kensi brushed some sand off her hands, and held up the container. “Deeks told me it was the best. What do you use?”

“It depends. I use different brand depending on the waves each day. Your technique could use some work. You wanna apply it at more of an angle than that. Here, let me show you.” Without asking, Branston kneeled down next to her, took the brush out her hand and began applying the wax.

Kensi looked over his head to see Deeks watching Branston with barely suppressed derision. He raises an eyebrow, which she interpreted as him asking if he should intervene. Kensi shook her head and offered a quick smile; so far, she had Branston exactly where she wanted him.

“Wow, you’re really good at that,” she praised Branston. Actually, his layers looked a lot thicker than what Deeks had shown her.

“It’s all about getting the feel for it,” Branston said arrogantly. “You’ll figure it out eventually.”

“Well, thanks for helping me. I’m still kind of new to this whole surfing thing.” She shrugged as if it didn’t matter a whole lot. “I wanted to try something new and I stumbled across this shop and now I’m here, trying to stand up on a wave for some crazy reason.”

“I guess it’s a good thing you met me.” He winked and handed her the brush. “All done.”

“I guess it’s lucky I couldn’t make my other lesson,” Kensi teased, playfully bumping his shoulder. That got a small grin out him.

Figuring she shouldn’t push too hard yet, Kensi grabbed her wetsuit and moved across the patch of sand. She wriggled into the suit and got the zipper halfway up her back, but couldn’t quite reach far enough to raise it the last few inches.

“Here, I got it,” Deeks offered.

Kensi had picked this suit in part because she’d pictured Branston helping her. But Deeks was an infinitely more appealing choice.

“Thanks.” Kensi turned her back towards him, holding her breath as Deeks lightly braced her with a hand on one of her shoulders and drew the zipper to the top in one smooth movement.

“That was very impressive,” he muttered as he tucked the zipper pull down, his fingers lingering ever so slightly on the back of her neck as he eased a few strands of hair away.

“That was nothing,” Kensi whispered back. His hand remained on her shoulder k and she let her mind wander. She imagined his warm hands sliding over more skin, helping her remove it after a long day of surfing.

“We should probably get out on the water,” he reminded her softly. Kensi detected a hint of regret in his voice and wished she could see his face.

***

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’.”

Forty-five minutes later, Kensi had a brand new wetsuit, a waxing brush, what Deeks had cited as the best wax available, and a bag to carry all of it. Now, Kensi was out back in front a row of surfboards of varying lengths.

“Here, try this one,” Deeks said, setting a blue and green board in front of her to replace the bright pink one she’d just tested. “It’s a little bit longer but slightly firmer.”

He’d explained since she was less experienced, a longer board with a softer top might be helpful. So far, she’d tried out four different boards. The last one, which had also been the longest, Deeks had immediately rejected as soon as she’d tried out a basic stance.

“Are you sure this will really make a difference?” she asked. She could feel the slight give in the top material, but not enough that she imagined it would make or break her performance.

“Absolutely. You’ll be able to stay on your board longer, have greater stability while standing, and have a better chance of catching waves,” Deeks explained while observing her. “You know what, I think I have one inside that might be an even better fit for you. I’ll be right back.”

“Mr. Deeks, you don’t need to—”

“Deeks,” he corrected with a soft laugh. “The last person to call me Mr. Deeks was my high school chemistry teacher and he may or may not have hated me just a little bit.”

“Ok. Deeks.” Kensi nodded in acceptance that they were taking down another small barrier. “I think you’re going a little overboard. We can compensate you for some of the merchandise, but I don’t know if our supervisor will approve of all these extras. I don’t want your business to suffer because of this.

“Call it the NCIS special,” Deeks said with a shrug. “Having the right equipment will help you keep up. Besides, I told you Branston thinks he’s some kind of surfing guru. He’ll want to impress you and prove that he’s better if he sees you decked out with the best.”

“So, I should probably not show him up,” Kensi guessed.

“Eh, you can a little bit. He’s a competitive guy. Sometimes he tries to engage with random surfers who are way out of his league. You’ll just want to pull back before he pulls the adult version of ‘that’s my ball and I’m leaving’.”

“Dealt with my fair share of those before.”

Deeks disappeared for a few minutes, then returned with the promised board. Kensi walked across the surface, dropping into her knees a little, and paying attention to the way it gripped the bottom of her bare feet.

“How’s that feel?”

“Actually, a lot better,” Kensi admitted with rueful chuckle. “I guess I should have listened to the master.”

Deeks’ upper lip lifted in a satisfied smile, but he shrugged off the implied compliment. “I’m just a guy who grew up on the water and had a lot of great mentors. Now I get to do that for other people, which is a pretty amazing feeling.”

“That’s really admirable,” she murmured, smiling back without thinking.

“I don’t know about that.” Clearing his throat, he gestured to her. “Can I?”

After a second, Kensi realized he was asking permission to adjust her stance.

“Be my guest.” She held her arms in the air, not unlike of she was about to be frisked. A shiver of anticipation ran through her as she waited for Deeks touch her. He very carefully place one hand at her waist and the other on her right shoulder. The warmth of his hands permeated the thin material of her t-shirt.

“Is this ok?” he asked, his voice lower and slightly rougher than normal.

“Yes,” Kensi said, annoyed at how breathy she sounded.

With the same care, Deeks shifted her position, gently pressing on her shoulder or nudging her leg a few inches one way or the other.

“This should help you keep your balance with less effort,” he explained. One of his hands drifted down her arm, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake.

Kensi was acutely aware of how close he was to her; if she turned her head a little—

Deeks cleared his throat and abruptly stepped back, taking the warmth with him. “I think that’s, uh, that’s enough off water practice. We should probably go down to the shore before it gets too busy.”

“Right.” Kensi nodded several times and knelt to pick up the board, hoping it would cover her annoyingly flushed skin.

“Hey, remember that you’re going to be seducing Meyers, not the surfer,” Callen reminded her in her ear.

“Shut up,” she hissed back. Deeks gave her a confused look, which she ignored in favor of stalking towards the water.

***

***

The rest of the session ran pretty normally; Kensi managed to ride her last wave without falling. Branston had crashed on all of his attempts, which gave Deeks a petty sense of satisfaction and he would happily hand over five dollars if he had the chance.

As they gathered up their belongings, Branston and Kensi continued chatting. At this rate, Kensi wouldn’t need surfing lessons as a cover to get closer to Branston. This might be the last time he saw her, Desk realized with a hint of regret.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” Deeks prompted when it became clear Branston intended to leave. He held out his hand and Branston rolled his eyes, pulling a small bundle of cash from his duffel bag and handing over a couple hundred dollar bills.

“Keep the change, Deeks. You should invite her to all your lessons. Her personality makes up for dealing with you.” Turning to face Kensi, he rested his hand on her back familiarly. “I’ll see you next time, Melissa.”

“Why wait?” Kensi held up her phone with an inviting smile and after a moment of hesitation, Branston rattled off a number. Deeks noticed it didn’t match the one he had on record. “I’ll text you later,” she added.

“Is he always like that?” Kensi asked once Branston was out earshot and they started back towards the shop. “I’m used to talking to creeps, but that was something else.”

“Unfortunately,” Deeks confirmed. “Though he was especially obnoxious today. So, congratulations for bringing out his worst.”

“What did he say to you when I was surfing? When I came back, you looked like you wanted to throw him into a wave.”

“Oh, he just offered me dating advice.”

“Oh, wow. Are you gonna take him up on it?” Kensi asked playfully.

“I don’t think I’m ever going to be that desperate. In fact if I do get that desperate, you have permission to shoot me,” Deeks said.

“Hang on. I’m dying in this.” Kensi stopped and handed her board to Deeks and set her bag down. She turned her back towards him again. “Unzip me?”

Deeks didn’t linger this time and quickly averted his eyes as Kensi wriggled the wetsuit down to her waist.

“I didn’t realize I was that awful to look at,” she said when she’d finished.

“Oh yeah, you’re absolutely hideous,” Deeks drawled. “I’m trying not to be like that jackass.”

“The difference is, I mind if he watches.” Kensi met his gaze with a pleased little smirk and then took her board back, walking away with an extra sway in her step.

It took Deeks’ brain a second to process what she’d said, and then he hurried after her, grinning on delight.

***

***

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?”

***

***

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.”

***

On a Wave’s Edge, Part 7

This had to be one of the odder surfing lessons Deeks had given. He’d certainly had weirder clients, but the situation was certainly unique. To give Kensi—Melissa—the opportunity to draw Meyers in, Deeks had to be way more hands off than usual.

He kind of enjoyed the dramatics of it all and if Kensi and her team were able to catch Branston before anyone else got hurt, Deek was happy to help. He’d always gotten a scummy feeling off the guy, but never imagined that he’d been conning women out of their money.

Now, Deeks sat atop his board, watching Kensi and Branston from a few yards away. They sat parallel to each other, Kensi leaning forward with apparent rapt attention while Meyers gestured broadly with his hands. Whatever he was trying to explain, Deeks highly doubted the accuracy.

After about another ten minutes, Kensi looked past Meyers and widened her eyes at Deeks. He took that to mean she’d had enough of Branston’s charms for today.

“Ok, guys, let’s get a couple more waves in,” Deeks interrupted loudly. “We got about twenty minutes left and I can’t run over today.”

Kensi squeezed Branston’s arm apologetically and turned to paddle towards Deeks.

“Sorry, Marty. Branston’s just so interesting,” she said with a careless shrug. “I think I could listen to him all day.”

Damn, she was good. Branston gave a smug grin at her praise, obviously buying into every word. Watching her work was as appealing as the feel of her bare skin, which Deeks was actively trying to forget.

“It’s fine,” Deeks told them. “Just don’t expect a refund. Melissa, why don’t you go first?”

Nodding, Kensi paddled out in the direction he indicated. As she approached a decent-sized wave, he could see her mentally reviewing each step as she stood and fought for balance. She managed to stay up for a good ten seconds before crashing in the middle of the wave.

Deeks smiled to himself, proud of her progress even though it wasn’t the goal.

“That’s hot,” Branston commented from beside Deeks. He knocked Deeks’ arm with the back of his hand, the move unnecessarily aggressive, as if they shared more than a reluctant client-instructor relationships. “You ever want tips on how to score one like that, you let me know.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Deeks would sooner burn his entire store down and dance on the ashes.

Kensi returned, wiping her soaked hair back with an exhilarated smile. “That was amazing. How did it look before I fell?”

“Your form was great approaching the wave. Next time you want to keep your feet a little father apart and lean into the board as you go through it,” Deeks told her.

“I’ll work on it,” she said and he saw a hint of the ambitious agent peek through Melissa’s carefree attitude.

“Let me show you how it’s done,” Branston declared, picking up on none of it.

He paddled off towards a particularly rough wave with his usual overconfidence.

“Five bucks says he doesn’t make a single one,” Kensi muttered.