A/N: I was thinking about how I finished up another AU WIP and this idea came to me, because obviously I need to start another. This one is definitely lighter than some of my recent stories. Hope you enjoy!
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
“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?”
A/N: Ta-da! I introduce Surfer Deeks.
ellievsbear
snowghoul
gummygunk
areudirty
germansingergirl
vaporwave
