October 7, 2014
Wow, what has Hetty gotten herself – & us – into this time?! It feels like we’re under siege. First they cart her off to DC and now the DOJ appears to have set up a command center in the gym?! Why do I feel like they’ll have us pinned to the rock wall for target practice at any moment?
Speaking of target, how could anyone ignore Callen’s new look? Normally, I’d heckle him into a challenging dare, because everyone knows I’m the Master of the Mane. Don’t get me wrong, I’m obviously quite secure with my effortless sunkissed surfer look (which the ladies love BTW), but he was approaching movie star worthy status. The dude needs to toss out those clippers and work his game! Hmm, maybe I should offer up my “Wingman Wisdom” to him….
Anyway, I’m now confined to a new “electronic Surf Log” – something about necessary encrypted security? (Beale!) Oh yeah, and lesson #147 from the Sam Hanna School of Tradecraft. So much for my entertaining doodles here, but at least it’s a way to pass the time during stakeouts and try to clear my head. And why might I need to do that? Yep, my curiously compelling “partner”. Partner. That seems like such an underrated term for us.
Kensi was working to keep up a normal appearance by engaging in our traditional (flirty) banter and pinning me to the mat (as usual), but there’s no fooling me. I know her. Even though she tapped into her miniscule funny bone today and flashed that smile that I adore, she’s hiding something. I don’t know what it is and I won’t push her, so like always, I’ll just patiently wait. Looks like we haven’t escaped that frozen lake – yet.