AN: Alright guys, I'm trying something different here. Katy Cooper asked for this for Christmas, so I'm giving it a shot. Let me know what you think :D And now, without further ado, Merry Christmas Katy Cooper!

Blessings,

bookdiva

"I don't want you here."

It was after nine, and the bullpen was quiet. Sam had already left, and normally it would be just me. But lately Deeks had taken to staying late, and tonight was no exception. The Detective sat across from me working diligently on paperwork before I spoke.

"Really?" Deeks said, looking up at me. "This again?" His words were humorous, but his expression was tired. His normally bright blue eyes looked, well, dead.

I just leveled him with my trademark stare. Usually, this would make the Detective start babbling uncomfortably, and eventually he'd be so uncomfortable that he'd leave. Instead he boldly met my stare head-on and returned it with one of his own.

Well, this is different, I thought to myself, still holding eye contact with Deeks.

He narrowed his eyes at me and took a deep breath, but instead of opening his mouth, he just went back to his paperwork without a word.

What the…?

I couldn't do anything but stare as the blond Detective went back to work.

No babble? No sarcastic comments? No anger? No witty avoidance? No joking? Nothing annoying whatsoever?

The lack of annoying response was annoying in and of itself. Eventually, I looked back down at my paperwork, but the words seemed to swim across the page.

Who does that cop think he is? I wondered in my head. I felt a twinge of self-reproach at my thought. You know he's more than just a cop, I reminded myself.

"Go home, Deeks," I said, finally breaking the silence. He looked up at me, but his expression didn't change.

"No, thank you," he said, going back to his paperwork. I was shocked.

"Deeks," I began, a note of warning in my voice. "I said 'go home'."

"And I said, 'no'," he replied, not even looking back up from his paperwork. "Now if we're done with that fascinating instant replay, I have paperwork to do."

I was shocked into silence.

"No you don't," I said, rising to my feet and crossing the area to stand in front of the Detective's desk. "Your inbox has been empty since a week after she…"

"Was sent away?" Deeks finished the thought I'd been unable to. He still didn't look up at me. "You can say it, you know."

"Yeah, okay, since she's been… sent away," I said. "So go home. You're no use to anyone if you're exhausted."

Again, he didn't react. I just sighed and looked over at Kensi's empty desk. I twas cluttered, and her inbox was half full.

Wait a minute. Wasn't her inbox overfull before she left? Kensi never has so few papers…. How… Then I realized. Deeks.

The Detective hadn't just been doing his own paperwork. He'd been catching up on all of Kensi's paperwork, too.

"You can't be doing Kensi's paperwork," I said to the unresponsive Detective. He didn't even flinch. "It's against regulations," I said, grasping.

This got me a humorless laugh in response.

"Don't give me that bull shit, Callen," Deeks said, still writing away on Kensi's report. "You and Sam play for paperwork all the time."

"That's different because we're both NCIS agents. It's against regulations, Deeks," I said, refusing to give any ground, regardless of whether he was right. "You're not an NCIS agent—"

"No, I'm not, but you're a hypocrite, aren't you? Quoting the rules at me," he cut in, still not bothering to look up at me. It made me angry.

"And you've been a mess!" I shot back at him.

"Excuse me?" he asked incredulously. "I've had your back—and Sam's—on every operation we've run. I've done everything by the book." He finally looked up at me, but his expression was unreadable to me. I took a second and realized how that probably sounded.

Kensi would know what you're thinking, I realized. Then again, if Kensi were here, we wouldn't be having this discussion.

First of all, he wouldn't be here at, I looked down at my watch, 10:07 at night, and besides, Kensi's scary when she gets all protective. Especially about Deeks.

"I didn't mean it like that," I said, shaking my head. I tried to explain myself more clearly. "I just meant I can't have any member of this team making decisions based on an emotional connection—"

"You mean like turning in a badge to go find someone in Romania?" Deeks asked calmly, glaring up at me. "Or breaking into a Russian consulate?"

"That was different," I protested. "Hetty's… she's like my only family…"

"And Kensi's not mine?" he demanded, finally standing up. I'd never really noticed that he was a few inches taller than me, but standing in front of me with his blue eyes flashing in uncharacteristic anger, he looked every bit his six-feet-two-inches.

"No, she is," I hurried to explain. "I just meant—"

"No," Deeks said, sitting down again. He looked me in the eyes firmly. "I'm sick of this, man. You're not the only one with a crappy, messed-up childhood, okay? You're not the only one who sees this team as his own dysfunctional little family. So why don't you sit over there with your paperwork," he said firmly, gesturing to my desk, "and I'll stay here with her paperwork, and tomorrow we'll just pretend like this didn't happen. Like family."

He turned back to his paperwork, and I had a feeling that—short of information regarding Kensi's whereabout or classified mission—nothing could make him look up at me again.

I just nodded, quietly got my things, and headed to my car. I wasn't really sure where I was headed.

A few minutes later I pulled up outside an apartment building. I'd only been there a few times, and none of them had been by choice. I parked, exited my car, and walked to the Detective's door. It was locked, but I easily picked it and eased the door open.

It was silent and stuffy, as if no one had been home in a long while. I walked fully inside Deeks's living room.

There were two open, half-empty beers on the table along with an empty takeout container from Jose's Tacos. From the couch, down the hall to what looked like the bedroom, there was a path of men's clothing, and if I wasn't mistaken, a woman's undershirt was hanging from the light in the hallway. It looked suspiciously like the ones Kensi wore.

So not going there, I thought to myself as I strategically ignored this newfound evidence.

I walked through the small apartment, but there were no signs of anyone having been there recently. There was also no sign of Monty.

He hasn't been living here, I realized. I could empathize with him, though. After all, there were many nights when I couldn't stand to stay at my house. The memories….

Down the hall the bathroom door was open. Two toothbrushes sat together in a cup by the sink.

I was pretty sure that the clothes on the floor part of their relationship was new—they'd been too awkward for it to have been anything else—but the two toothbrushes, side-by-side in that cup made me realize how serious this… thing… of theirs really was.

I immediately felt guilt well up inside of me.

I was wrong, I realized with some shame. Turning around, I walked out the door, leaving everything inside just the way it was.

Deeks is right, I realized as I got in my car and drove to my house. We are similar. And we are family. So tomorrow, I guess I'll start acting like it.

So that's it… I hope you liked it! Merry early Christmas! Leave me a review as a present? :)