"We'll take a break. "Sam glared at Callen. "Give you guys some time together."

"Thanks," Kensi murmured absently, never looking up as they left the room, her eyes fixed unmovingly on Deeks' face.

"I told you." There was more than a hint of triumph in Callen's voice. "Didn't I tell you?"

"You told me."

"They've definitely got a thing, haven't they?"

"It looks like it." Wordlessly, Sam pulled his cell phone out, accessed a report and handed it across to Callen. "Read that. And then I guarantee you won't be quite so chipper." Stuffing his hands into his pockets he stalked along the corridor, his head well down.

Reading the Sheriff's report nearly took Callen's breath away. He could work out exactly what lay between the bald statement about Jenner's state of undress and arousal, the preliminary cause of death, Deeks' injuries and Kensi's state of semi-withdrawal in the car. The casual links were only too obvious. Sam was standing a short distance away, staring blankly into space.

"You don't think…?" He couldn't put it into words, and yet it all made perfect sense.

"No, I don't think. I don't anything, G – because that would be speculating. And I'm not going to speculate about something like that, especially when it might have happened to one of my friends." If you thought about it, then it was real. And he didn't want this to be real. This was the ultimate nightmare: something they all knew was possible, but which they tried to ignore. Because if you talked about it, then it might happen. Unable to restrain his anger any longer, Sam smashed his fist into a drinks machine and seemed honestly taken aback when an alarm started ringing. "What the hell is the world coming to?"

Callen flashed his ID at a security guard who pelted round the corner, clearly under the impression he was about to make the arrest of his career and apprehend some fearless soda-thieves and watched the man's face fall almost comedically. Under any other circumstances, it would have been funny. Right now, it didn't even register. "We have to do something."

"It's none of our business."

"It is. Sam, how can you stand there and say this when Kensi's been raped? She needs our help."

Sam looked at him, with eyes that suddenly looked old and weary. "Did you ever stop to think for a moment that it might have been Deeks who was assaulted?" he asked in an undertone.

The world tilted violently on its axis. "No." Callen looked at him. "You don't think…?"

"Like I said, I don't think anything. I'm not going to think anything until I'm told to. I'm going to make sure I don't think anything. How about you?"

"We can't not do anything." That sentence had come out all wrong, but for once Callen was certain that Sam would not pick him up on his lousy grammar.

"Hetty's in there with them both. She'll be dealing with it. Whatever it was and whoever it happened to. It's equally bad either way, isn't it?" For once, Sam was content to devolve the responsibility. He couldn't take everything on his shoulders and this was something he was only too glad to cravenly hand over, because Sam was painfully aware that he wouldn't have the first idea how to even begin to tackle it.

"Sometimes, it's best not to think too much about things, G," he said. His partner was clearly having problems trying to come to terms with this new information. Nothing was every quite what it seemed at first glance, there were always layers of information: Sam had found that out a long time ago. Speculation was fruitless, it only served to cloud the issues and distract from the real business in hand. If you did not occasionally stand back, you could drive yourself insane. Such good advice – and so impossible to follow right now, because they were involved. If it affected Kensi and Deeks, then it affected them all.

"Something happened."

"Agreed." It looked as if Callen had his teeth into this and, just like a dog with a bone, he was not about to let go. "And when we need to know what that 'something' was, then we'll be told. But in the meantime, just leave it – okay?" Just the thought of what might have taken place made Sam feel sick to his stomach.

"If it was you or me," Callen looked up at him. "We'd deal with it, wouldn't we? Between the two of us?" He seemed to be seeking reassurance.

"We would." They had always been there for each other and Sam could not imagine a time when things would ever change, no matter what transpired.

"So we should let Kensi and Deeks do the same?"

"Definitely."

Callen thought about this for a long time. "And you're okay with that?"

"No, I'm not. I'm not okay at all. I hate everything about this." Sam's eyes blazed with fury. "It's a good thing that Marine is dead already, because there's no telling what I'd do to him if he was still alive."

At last they were on the same page. "Me too," Callen said softly. It was always a bad sign when Sam suppressed his feelings. The big guy had an even bigger heart, although he tried to hide it behind a brusque exterior. Sam gave new meaning to the word 'protective' after all. He had needed to express his anger and Callen had been seeking to find that trigger. "Is it too early for a beer?"

There was no refuge in alcohol, they both knew that, but sometimes it helped to deaden the pain just enough to allow you to carry on.

"Sounds good to me." As they started walking, Sam looked at his partner curiously. "Is it just me, or do you feel that we let them down somehow?" The thought had been nagging away at him for ages now.

"I feel the same way. Like we're responsible somehow – like we should have been looking out for them."

"Like we're the big brothers?"

"I wouldn't know." Only the moment Sam said that, it all made perfect sense: that was exactly how Callen felt – if he had ever had siblings. The team was the nearest thing he had to a family, and that family had been threatened and assaulted and Callen felt it as keenly as if he himself had been attacked. "No – you're right. That's exactly how I feel."

"It's not that they're not good – I don't mean that."

"I know. They're good – but we're better."

"We're the A-Team?"

"Exactly."

It could have been them. They both knew that. But it hadn't been, so all they could do now was to wait, just as Kensi was waiting. And when the time came, they would be there. Because that's what big brothers did. They might tease and torment, and have to assert their superiority from time to time, but they also watched proudly when the kids pulled it off, and when the young ones were threatened, they protected them, any way they could.

"So, if you're BA, and I'm Hannibal, I guess that makes Kensi Face and Deeks gets to be Murdoch?"

"I should be Hannibal. I'm the brains here, G. Why should I be BA?"

"Because you've got anger management issues?" Callen took off down the corridor at a run.

The day had finally died, in a blaze of golden-red glory, setting the sky alight with brief splendour and the moon was half-risen, cool and serene in a darkling sky before Deeks started to stir.

"Marty? It's alright. You're in the hospital and everything's okay."

"Kensi?" Deeks sounded groggy, as if he was still out of it and his eyes weren't focusing properly.

"I'm right here."

"You okay?" It was an effort to talk.

"I'm fine. Hetty's been looking after me. She's right here."

"Hetty's here?" Deeks wondered if he was imagining things, or if this was some strange sort of nightmare he couldn't wake up from. It was never a good sign to wake up and find Hetty sitting beside your hospital bed. It either meant you were really badly hurt, or she had something pretty terrible to tell you. Or both.

"Of course I'm here. I'm your next of kin, remember?" She sounded as crisp and efficient as ever. If they ever dropped the atomic bomb, Hetty would be the first to emerge from a bunker in a tailored radiation suit to survey the damage and then announce 'Oh bugger' in ringing tones of condemnation.

How could he possible forget that? Even woozy from the anaesthetic, that wasn't something he was about to forget in a hurry. "Uh huh." It seemed expedient not to say anything else so Deeks just looked up at Hetty and tried to smile. He couldn't have been too successful, because the strangest look came across her face, and she patted his hand and then brushed his hair away from his forehead. Deeks could vaguely remember his mother doing that one time when he was sick, but that had been a long time ago, and nobody had done it since. It felt kind of nice though, and he let his eyes drop shut again as she began to talk, telling him just to rest, and not worry about anything.

"Look after Kensi?"

"Of course I will, my dear."

And it was the strangest thing, because Deeks could almost have sworn that he felt a soft kiss on his cheek. But Hetty would never do anything like that, so he must have been imagining it.

"Go back to sleep, Marty."

He wanted to tell Kensi to go back to the lodge, to get some sleep, but Deeks found that he was too tired to manage to form the words. He must already have been asleep and dreaming when he thought he heard Kensi say "I love you," because she would never say anything like that, far less say it in front of Hetty. Still, even it was a dream, it was possibly the best dream he'd ever had.

"When Mr Callen and Mr Hannah get back, I think you and I should go somewhere rather more private." Hetty sat back down and regarded Kensi implacably. "Because we need to talk."

It had to happen, she knew that. "You're probably right."

"I need to know what happened up on the mountain." Hetty placed the tips of her fingers together. "For the files. You know how important it is that we have a complete record."

"I know." And it wasn't as if Deeks was going to be in any fit state to write his own report any time soon.

"That is all I need to know. I do not need to know anything else beyond that. The facts and any other pertinent information is what I am seeking. I have absolutely no interest in anything else. Do I make myself clear?"

"Perfectly." Kensi wasn't entirely sure what was going on here but she wasn't about to argue

"Good, I'm glad we understand each other." Hetty might wear glasses but she had never had any difficulty in seeing what was right under her nose. "And, strictly off the record, it took you long enough. Both of you are far too stubborn for your own good."

For the first time in hours Kensi couldn't help grinning. "It was all the fault of that storm," she informed her boss. "That storm, a crowded motel and a very small bed. And the fact that Deeks behaved like a perfect gentleman."

"Heavens to Betsy. Our Mr Deeks has more self-restraint than I gave him credit for." Hetty looked at him with renewed respect. "What a pity he can't use some of that to curb his unfortunate tendency to make inopportune remarks."

"He wouldn't be Deeks if he didn't say outrageous things."

"That's very true. Sad, but true." Hetty could feel relief flood through her body as she observed the almost palpable change in her agent. "Up there – with Jenner – he didn't force himself on you, did he?"

Kensi shook her head. "No. He was going to, but…" For a brief instant, she was back there in the shed, kneeling on the floor feeling so helpless and so trapped and all she could think of was how much her knees were hurting and how cold she was, because she had deliberately switched off all her emotions. But now, here in the warmth, knowing that she was safe and that Deeks was going to be alright, Kensi could finally give herself permission to weep. It felt so good just to finally be able to let all her feelings out, to abandon all attempts at self-control and give vent to all the pent-up emotions she had been repressing.

"That's right, you have a good cry." Hetty had been seriously concerned at Kensi's stoic demeanour, her resolute refusal to talk about what had ensued. She had been worried enough to consider contacting Nate and asking for his advice. But she had a feeling that her agent was going to be just fine – with a little help from her friends. There was only one thing left for her to do – and that was to make sure that these two young people did not go and bugger things up before they had even started. If they couldn't see just how perfect they were for each other, then maybe Hetty was going to have to give them each a metaphorical kick up the backside. And if that didn't work, then she would jolly well give them a physical one too. Once Mr Deeks had recovered sufficiently, of course. Hetty had no intentions of jeopardising things any further, and he did have an unfortunate tendency to be rather accident-prone without her making matters any worse.

Slushy plot bunny has been working on Hetty...