G'day! This is the first chapter of what will hopefully develop into a series of short(ish) stories revolving around G. Callen and Marty Deeks and their friendship/partnership/whatever. I am fully willing to take any prompts, and I will not abuse anyone for fixing up my grammar, just let me know and I'll get right onto it. Fair warning for future chapters; I am an abysmally slow poster, alright? But, I promise that I won't post half a story and then leave you hanging for two months before the rest of it.

On that note, these stories don't take place chronologically, and any multi-chapter stories will have (Part 1), (Part 2), etc. thrown on the end of whatever badly thought-up title I decide on. I write the entire story before posting, so they'll be up within a few days of each other. As always, I love reviews, anything from a simple sentence, to a book on your thoughts. Hope you enjoy!

"This is a terrible idea." Deeks looked over his shoulder to meet Callen's guarded blue eyes. The detective couldn't help but grin at the almost-but-not-quite wild look in the older man's eyes as he took in the people. The gaudily dressed people. The gaudily dressed people who weren't actually wearing that much.

"G, this is a great idea. I need you to trust me on this, and not run away screaming," Deeks paused a moment for effect, "you'll only be chased by others, screaming just like you. Although, I'm pretty sure for different reasons." The terror that flashed across Callen's face was priceless.

Deeks sighed and slowed down his eel-like sliding through the excitable crowd, somehow always managing to escape the various flailing appendages that weren't necessarily your standard arms and legs, and allowed Callen to come up beside him. "Hey, I know you're terrified by all this liberation, but we're here for a reason. Look less terrified, more entertained." Deeks slung an arm over Callen's shoulder, both as a gesture of comfort and to ensure he didn't scramble away.

"How could this possibly entertain anyone?" Callen pressed tight against Deeks in order to avoid two, no, three, very enthusiastic participants, alternating between some jerky dance and eating each other's faces. "This is the complete opposite of fun. This is mayhem, and chaos, and somanypeople."

"Whoa. G. We're working. Focus on that. This is for a case. We're gonna catch a budding terrorist cell. And we're gonna use these lovely people to get close to them." Deeks' eyes shone with repressed laughter, but his voice was pitched to reassure the recluse, who'd probably only ever encountered this many people while they were fully clothed. The fact that the NCIS agent could take down armed suspects almost twice his height, but couldn't cope with exuberant crowds amused Deeks to no end.

Callen felt a hand grab a buttock, and he swiped it away quickly, turning to face the offender, ready for a fight. A young man, no older than twenty-five, grinned at the older man, before winking and disappearing into the writhing crowd. Callen spun on his heel and forced his way to where Deeks was patiently waiting for him, a metre or so ahead, swaying slightly as people pressed in on either side of him.

It took far too much effort to reach the blond detective, and Callen had to fend off a particularly determined woman who was intent on touching as much as him as she could reach, with any part of her body. "I hate Mardi Gras."

Deeks laughed, throwing back his head. "Could never tell from your reaction." He manoeuvred the two of them against the side of a float that contained several mostly naked men performing a routine the included feather boas and glitter. Finally, Callen drew breath, the solid presence of the side of the mobile stage allowing him a break from the endless press of people. And sweaty skin, and overwhelming body odour, and groping hands.

"You good?" The question startled Callen, and he looked searchingly at Deeks, looking for the quirk of lips, the flair of nostrils that meant the liaison was messing with him. Nothing. Deeks met Callen's eyes, and the agent was taken aback, not that he allowed it to show, by the depth of understanding he saw in the clear blue eyes. It had been a genuine question.

"Better. Definitely better." Usually he would've brushed the question off, not comfortable with expressing any sort of vulnerability to anyone, but it was a little useless when the detective had already seen his near inability to cope with so much sensual stimulation. Besides, he knew he was going to have to dive back into the insanity soon, and maybe, just maybe, it'd be better if Deeks could help. "I like to have something solid at my back."

Deeks hummed in agreement, absent-mindedly diverting a glitter-covered man from crashing into Callen, creating a barrier on the older man's unprotected side, taking the brunt of the crush of the crowd to allow his boss a semblance of personal space, even if they did occasionally rub against one another. "I know what you mean," Deeks gently disentangled himself from a young woman who'd wrapped her arms around his neck and was kissing his cheek, "took me years to get used to the total lack of inhibition people show at events like this."

Callen looked at the taller man in not-quite-concealed amazement. "You regularly subject yourself to these things?" Deeks' attention snapped back to Callen, and his gaze sharpened, aware that he'd lapsed, and been perhaps a little more open than he usually was.

"Well, yeah. I support the cause, and, well, it's a great place to pick up CIs." Deeks ran a hand through his hair, pushing it out of his eyes. "Also, I was undercover one year and nearly did what you want to do, so…" Deeks paused, and then continued, a little self-consciously, "I figured I better get in some practise, so I'm ready for next time." The detective cleared his throat and subtly shouldered a persistent man away from both of their buttocks. "Deals are always going down at events like this, most of it harmless, but there's always that one group who wants to go hard-core."

Callen nodded in understanding, knowing this shouldn't surprise him about Deeks, but finding himself surprised anyway. The team knew that he was dedicated to his roles undercover, and the detective had demonstrated on several occasions just how committed he was to his job, and how true he remained to the police mantra 'protect and serve'. Callen knew the amount of dedication required to live an alias like Deeks did. Callen was the same. They both immersed themselves totally to the character they needed to become, locking away tight their real selves, hoping it wouldn't be marred by whoever they became.

"Sorry G, we gotta go back out. And this's gonna be more intense, the road narrows up ahead for an entire block." The apology was evident in Deeks voice, but it did nothing to make things easier for Callen. Although, he wondered when Deeks had started calling him 'G', and why. It was a question he kept in the forefront of his mind, helping distract him from the overwhelming sensations coming at him from all angles.

In under a minute, Callen was being assaulted from all sides. A gyrating couple pressed against his back, either trying to include him, which Callen was definitely not interested in, or to use him as support for their increasingly heated activities, which he was also not interested in. On his left, a young man was running his hands along the agent's arm, while a topless woman was walking backwards and shimmying in front of him. Not even his right was safe, and the crowd separated Callen from Deeks, even if only by one or two people.

While Callen was struggling, Deeks simply went with the crowd, not responding to the arse-grabs and random, but regular kisses that were just as likely to miss as land on his cheeks. He'd learnt long ago that it was easier to sway with the mass of bodies, and if he occasionally used his hips to nudge someone away, well, he was within his rights. Looking over, he watched Callen carefully, hoping that the seasoned agent would be able to cope with the onslaught, but ready to step in if need be.

"Deeks!" Not caring that his voice was almost an octave higher than usual, Callen tried to escape the press of people, all of who seemed intent on touching him, pressing against him. In less than five seconds, Deeks was by his side, almost launched into him, as the crowd showed their enthusiasm, but held himself away at the last second, knowing that the constant press wouldn't be helping.

"Steady G, steady," Deeks positioned himself so that he was slightly in front of Callen, shoulders angled toward the shorter man, creating a barrier on at least one side of him. "You're alright. Focus on my voice."

"Deeks…" His voice just above a whisper, Callen was past caring that he was essentially falling apart in front of the newest member of his team. "They're everywhere…"

"I know. Sensory overload, yeah? It's a lot, but you can do this." Deeks hesitated, but then decided that he couldn't make the situation worse. "I'm going to touch you, okay. Focus only on me. All your senses. All on me, okay?"

Callen nodded, looking intently at one of Deeks' shoulders, trying to block out the multitude of colours that were flashing all around him. He took a few moments to wonder just how Deeks knew it was sensory overload, and how to deal with it. The detective was always in the centre of the drama, spinning around the chaos as though he was born to it. Loud noises didn't put him on the defensive, and he didn't flinch at sudden movements. Not that Callen did either. He'd long schooled that reflex out of himself, but the instinct still remained.

Deeks wrapped an arm around Callen, attempting to cover as much of him as he could, presenting less for the manic mass to press against. Tucking him tightly into his side and fractionally in front of him, Deeks effectively covered Callen's back and right side, and the arm slung around his waist was useful in pushing away the most insistent ones. The possessive glare that Deeks threw at a few people also helped.

"Jeez, these lot are persistent." Deeks kept his voice pitched low, and bent so that Callen's ear was only a few inches away, cutting through the exuberant, and constant roar surrounding them. "I've half a mind to simply jump on a float and take my chances with pantless dancers." That earned him a chuckle, and Deeks was relieved that Callen wasn't so far gone he couldn't appreciate Deeks' endless humour.

"Just listen to my voice. Pick apart the drawl I've got, listen to the words, and find their meaning. Listen to the rumble, focus on the sound, and how it translates and makes sense to you. Be aware of the fantastic deodorant I'm wearing." Callen rolled his eyes, and Deeks grinned at him, "Take a detailed look at my lion's mane. Look at how there are so many different tones in the blanket colour we call blond. Appreciate how beautiful I am, and be jealous."

As Deeks rambled about his many good qualities, he kept his relaxed posture, knowing that it would convey to Callen, and all the while winding the two of them through the throng that adamantly refused to leave them alone. Keeping Callen pressed against him and glaring at those looking to cop a feel only did so much, and Deeks found himself having to put his own body on the line to keep the curious ones away from him team leader.

"You better be grateful for the sacrifices I'm making here. We also need to agree that I'm way better at this than you are. I expect a reward." Blurting out whatever came to mind, Deeks wanted to simply start shoving people out of the way, but the whole point of them being here was to blend in, to not bring attention to themselves. As it was, he slowly angled towards the outside of the parade that crawled though the street, where the press of people was less.

"Deeks. I'm alright." Callen wanted nothing more than to remain where he was, seemingly surrounded on all sides by the tall detective, but as his panic receded, his stubborn need to remain independent resurfaced. He wasn't in danger of being overwhelmed any more, and as much as he wanted to continue to listen to Deeks' constant babble, centring him, they were here for a reason. And he needed to be aware of his surroundings for that.

Deeks spotted an unoccupied bench, a wonder, considering it's placement, and steered Callen towards it, not replying to the agent's comment. He plopped down in the seat, the arm around Callen's waist ensuring that he followed suit. Only then did he turn to meet Callen's eyes and reply.

"I really don't think you are. There's a lot to process out there. Take a look G, are you really going to be able to find you way through that crowd and still be able to effectively keep an eye out for any of the members we're looking for?" Deeks really wanted to lighten the situation, but knew he had to present a solid argument, get Callen to think through what he was trying to force himself to do.

Callen took a deep breath, about to bluster his way through Deeks' admittedly rational point. And then he thought about how the younger man had automatically placed himself between the participants and him, how Deeks'd known how to contain his overload, subjecting his senses to one subject in opposition to many. Callen took another deep breath.

"I'm not all that alright, no. But Deeks, we've got to do this. We know the cell's here. We have five faces. We've got to find them and follow them or else a building goes down, and people die." Callen straightened, closing his eyes briefly before meeting the detective's concerned gaze with his own determined one. "I'm just going to have to deal."

The sigh that Deeks heaved was world weary, but there wasn't much else he could do. Callen was right. This was something that had to be done. "Okay. But first, give yourself a moment." Deeks tilted his head, examining Callen critically. "Who'd have thought you'd be so popular, especially amongst the young 'uns? Ah well, that's gotta be a boost of confidence, if nothing else."

"Thank you," Callen commented wryly, "and what makes you think my confidence needs a couple of youngsters to boost it? Not everyone's as insecure as you."

"Ouch. Shatter my self-image there G. I'll have you know I didn't go unnoticed myself. But it was quite amusing watching you flail around, trying to get away from all of these attractive people. Never pegged you for shy." Deeks grinned at Callen, arm shifting from around his waist to rest along the back of the bench as he saw the agent loosen up.

Callen snorted indelicately, but didn't answer. He examined Deeks out of the corner of his eye, while also scanning the crowd for suspects, more or less his usual, collected, unfazed self. The older man wasn't the least bit surprised that Deeks had received the attention he did. He was tall, tan, blond, and fit. The surfer-boy mess of hair and bright blue eyes, the mouth that always had a smile playing around his lips drew people in, and he immediately made people feel at home.

That was the reason why the team, especially Sam, had been so dubious of the LAPD detective in the beginning. He simply didn't exude the same quiet menace as the rest of the team, in fact, he occasionally came across as completely useless in their line of work. He spoke before thinking about what he was saying, and grinned at his own jokes, which, while often had Callen biting his cheek to keep from smiling, also came across at clueless.

"Got one. Twenty metres out, two o'clock. Not-quite bald guy who really needs a shave." Deeks drew Callen out of his musing, and the agent berated himself for not focussing on what was happening in front of him.

"Okay. Back into the madness," Callen steeled himself, and then added, hoping he kept all traces of reluctance out of his voice, "we should split up."

Deeks looked across at Callen, eyes narrowed, already shaking his head. "Bad idea and you know it G. One, you're not going to be able to tolerate people pressing against you, and if you start shoving through the crowd, you'll be noticed. Two…"

Callen cut the detective off, "Alright, you've convinced me. I concede." Mainly to stop Deeks from listing all of the reasons why he wasn't cut out for this particular job.

"Well, I've gotta say, you're much more reasonable than Kensi's ever been." Deeks moved off, rejoining the crowd effortlessly, Callen close behind him. The time away from the constant press of people had allowed Callen to prepare, and it was merely uncomfortable as opposed to debilitating this time.

xXx

The duo kept a discreet distance from their target, which was quite a length closer than if they'd been tailing him on the street, courtesy of the writhing crowd. A minute later, another man joined the one they were following, and he too was a face they'd studied back at OPS. The newcomer spoke in the other's ear, and they began making their way to the other side of the street, eventually entering a building. Deeks reached the doorway first, with Callen shoving away a hanger-on before joining him.

"Well, door's locked. You wanna pick it?" Deeks grinned at the glare Callen shot him, knowing full well that the agent wasn't about to bend down in this environment. "No? Suit yourself."

It took Deeks a matter of seconds to pick the lock, and they both slid in quickly, closing the door behind them. They found themselves in a narrow hallway, with even narrower stairs leading to a second level. Callen drew in a deep breath and immediately felt sharper, more focussed, more aware. "Okay. We can assume that the bomb'll be placed on the lowest level, near the foundations, but you sweep upstairs in case they've spread out." Callen reached to fiddle with his ear, "And turn on your comms, OPS'll be able to hear us now that we're not out there."

"Gotcha." And with that, the blond detective made his way up the darkened stairs, stepping carefully and without sound.

"Mr Callen, lovely to have you join us. Your GPS tracking noted that you remained stationary for several minutes, is everything alright?" The slightly crackly voice of Hetty sounded in his ear, and Callen fought back a sigh. Of course she'd want an explanation, especially as Eric and Nell were blind, as the traffic and security cameras had been switched off a few hours earlier, probably by the terrorist cell.

"Everything's fine Hetty, We just took a breather." Callen hoped that the small woman would leave it at that, so he didn't have to admit his meltdown to the rest of the team, particularly Sam, who would swing between being outraged that he hadn't known, and endlessly amused.

"Have you located the bomb?" That was Kensi, thankfully single-minded in their task at hand.

"Not yet. But we're in a building that certainly looks as though it's the perfect candidate. It's pressed close to a bar, one that's undoubtedly packed, and far enough from the next apartment, that if they placed it properly, the bomb would create a domino effect that'll last the entire street." Callen spoke softly as he swept through what appeared to be two unoccupied bedrooms.

"Upstairs is clear Callen." Deeks' voice came over, and sent Callen to thinking about how the liaison had used that voice to talk the agent off the metaphorical ledge. Thinking back, the whole thing seemed oddly practised, but why would Deeks have reason to use such methods? Jerking himself out of that train of thought, Callen cleared the last room.

"I've got nothing either. Must be a basement somewhere. Come find me." Callen walked to the left side of the building, the side, that if it crumbled, would act as the first domino. Moments later, Deeks was at his side, and it was then Callen saw the not-quite-covered trapdoor that he's passed the first time. Not wanting to alert Sam that he'd missed something that now seemed obvious, he merely tapped Deeks on the arm and pointed, hoping the detective would understand.

He did. Without speaking, Deeks ghosted to the ring and, with a nod from Callen yanked it open as Callen crowded the entrance, covering it with his gun. A beared man started, and held up a gun. With a reaction that'd been drilled into him, Callen squeezed his own trigger twice before the man had time to aim. The bullets hit the man they'd been following in the heart and sent him toppling down the steep ladder. Cries of surprise let Callen and Deeks know that there were at least two more men down there, both of them likely armed.

"What's going on? Mr Callen, Mr Deeks, keep me up to speed!" Even as Hetty began speaking, Callen was descending the ladder, keeping to one side so that Deeks could cover him. A second man poked his head from around a crudely made corner, an automatic in hand, and whose spray missed Callen by inches. Before he had time to recover, a shot rang out and a hole appeared in the other man's head and he dropped bonelessly to the ground, gun skittering out of his hand.

"Thanks Deeks." Callen reached the bottom, and trained his gun at the corner, waiting for the taller man to join him.

"What is going on?!" Hetty's voice, usually calm, rose in pitch as she demanded information. Callen remembered that she couldn't see, and they didn't have backup for her to send in.

"We're fine. Two down, one, possibly more still alive. In pursuit." Callen felt a tap on his shoulder, and moved forward, knowing that there wouldn't be much time left before whoever was left set off the bomb. Callen and Deeks entered a room that seemed to fit the dimensions of the apartment above them, and in the far corner, there was a row of plastic explosive lined up along the left-side wall. Two men were crouched by what Callen assumed to be the detonator.

Knowing that it wouldn't make a difference, Deeks called out their customary greeting, "NCIS, put down you weapons, step away from the bomb." One of the men rose and covered the other, an automatic beginning to track a line in the cement to the left of Deeks and travelling closer. The detective ducked behind a stack of empty crates and descended to his knees, presenting a smaller target, unable to get a shot in as he was pinned by gunfire. Callen dropped to the floor and then rolled forward to a low-lying scattering of piping, safe from the bullets flying above his head, but unable to get a good angle from his position.

"Deeks!"

"Well, I've gotta say that I'd much rather be out in that crowd right about now. I don't have a shot, and he's chipping away at my cover pretty quick." Deeks' voice crackled as the shots rang out around the room and inside Callen's ear, and Callen chanced a glance back to where the detective was crouched and saw that he didn't have long at all before a bullet found its mark.

Callen took a breath before speaking, "Deeks, I need you to…"

"Draw his fire?" Deeks cut Callen off, "How on earth did I know what you were going to say? Just saying, when this' over, you owe me big time G. I expect grovelling, minimum."

Trust Deeks to not only read Callen's mind, but also to have a comeback for it. "On two." Callen gathered himself, ready to spring into an upright position, and hopefully take down the gunman before he riddled Deeks with holes. "One. Two!"

Deeks ducked out from behind the now almost non-existent crates and dove for the ground, stretching out as flat as he could, before tucking himself in at the last second, rolling and coming to one knee in a fluid motion. Callen surged upward, gun unerringly finding the heart of the gunman and firing three shots in quick succession. The rapid fire of the automatic ceased suddenly, and the silence was deafening, not that Deeks allowed it to stay that way for long.

"Step away from the bomb. Hands up. We will shoot you if we have to." No trace of the easy-going liaison was visible in either his demeanour or his voice. Deeks' gun did not waver from the back of the man, who, throughout the entire gunfight, had not turned or stopped his task, which involved fiddling with several wires that ran throughout the room, connected to the explosives.

Callen approached the man cautiously, stepping around to come at him from the side. He appeared to be unarmed, but appearances were often deceiving in their line of work. "Stop whatever you're doing now!" The man kept his head bent and didn't give any sign of hearing the two men.

Callen unhooked his cuffs from his belt and placed a firm hand on the terrorist's shoulder, yanking him backwards and upwards. A glint of silver caught his eye and he only just managed to deflect the knife as it made its way toward his chest.

"Status Mr Callen!" Hetty's near shout startled the agent, and he felt the knife score his forearm, drawing blood. Before the man could follow up his advantage, a shot rang out, and a bullet found its way into the bomber's shoulder, causing him to cry out and drop his weapon.

"Status is that you need to not shout. Nearly cost your best agent his life Hetty." The harsh rebuke was so unlike Deeks that no one spoke for several seconds, and it was the detective that broke the quiet, speaking in a low tone. "Three men dead. One in cuffs. I dunno how the bomb's rigged, but I don't think it's ready to blow. One agent with a knife wound and I'm really hoping no one else shows up because I really want to go home."

Callen watched warily as Deeks knelt to examine the setup of the explosives, looking for any flashing lights or other indicators that the bomb was armed. He was just as surprised as the rest of the team that the blond man had taken a bite at their operations leader. He kept a firm grip on the man who was sagging toward the ground. Deciding to leave the breach of conduct alone for the moment, he spoke to the agents back at OPS.

"Need an ambulance to our location. It won't be easy with the parade, but our guy's bleeding pretty heavily. And Deeks is right. We were given five faces. We encountered four guys, and one of them I haven't seen before. More might be out there." As Callen spoke, he dumped the cuffed man on the ground, and began tearing up the terrorist's shirt. Feeling a presence behind him, Callen turned to see Deeks crouch down, the small first aid kit that he always carried with him already out. While not mandatory, and none of the rest of the team carried one, Deeks refused to go anywhere without it.

"You watch for more guys, I'll take him." Callen noted that Deeks had pulled out his earpiece, so he merely nodded and moved away, watching the trapdoor entrance, mulling over recent events.

While it was true that Hetty'd distracted Callen, the wound was hardly life threatening. And even if Callen had been put at a serious disadvantage, he had every faith that Deeks would do exactly what he had just done. Have his back. But the way in which he'd reacted to Hetty was so very unlike the man that Callen worked alongside every day. The liaison had a great relationship with the small woman, often getting her to smile with his tomfoolery, even if she didn't let him see it, and more often than once, she'd cut him some slack that wouldn't have flown if it'd been Sam or Kensi.

Deciding he was out of earshot, Callen addressed Hetty. "Deeks' taken his earpiece out, and I think that's more so he doesn't say anything further than it is his not wanting to listen to you." Knowing he shouldn't be defending the taller man, Callen couldn't help but think Hetty was partially at fault.

"How badly are you injured Mr Callen?" Hetty ignored the previous statement, and Callen refrained from sighing. Deeks was in for a serious ear-chewing when they arrived back at OPS.

"Long, shallow. Didn't make it to the bone. Stings though." Callen knew better than to lie.

"See that you travel to the hospital with our injured terrorist and get it cleaned up." That was as much of an apology as Callen was ever going to get from the taciturn woman.

"G, Kensi and I are on our way. There's a back alley that we'll use, and a window that we'll shatter. Don't shoot us, alright? And don't let Deeks shoot us either." Callen felt himself bristle slightly at the tone of his partner's voice when mentioning Deeks, although he wasn't sure why.

"Copy. Kens, you stay on the ground floor. Sam, there's a trapdoor and a ladder. We're down there." Callen backed up a little, still keeping the ladder in sight, calling back to Deeks, "Sam and Kens are on their way. Sam'll come down, do whatever it is he does with bombs. I want you to go upstairs and wait with Kensi," Callen paused, and then decided that he had to risk hearing Hetty rip the detective a new one, "and put your comms back in, we need you in this."

"Gotcha." The voice was quiet, and sounded in Callen's ear.