A/N: Based off of another fic of mine, "Momento".

"Hey Deeks, why do you have a picture stuffed in the back of the supply closet?" Callen asked, walking back into the main area of the bar. His hair was liberally sprinkled with dust and he held a large, rectangle wrapped in brown paper. He'd been helping Kensi and Deeks deep clean everything as they prepared to reopen.

"What picture?" Deeks asked, popping up from behind the bar with a damp rag and a bottle of blue cleanser. His knee popped audibly and he winced. "Where'd you find that?"

"It was shoved behind a bunch of bleach." Deeks frowned and scratched at the top of his head, dislodging a few pieces of sweat-dampened hair.

"Well, I didn't put it there. Open it up." Callen started peeling back the paper as Kensi came downstairs with a bucket of water and a mop.

"I hate cleaning floors," she declared, setting the bucket on the floor with a thump. "Wait, where did you get that?" She pointed to the picture, her hand trembling slightly.

"It was in the closet," Callen answered, still picking at the tape holding the paper together.

"Don't!" Kensi said, frantically waving her hand at Callen as she rushed over and reached for the package. He frowned and took a couple steps back. Kensi smiles unconvincingly and cleared her throat. "What I meant to say is, um, it's mine. It's a present from a friend."

"From who?" Deeks asked, looking at her like she was crazy. Glancing at him with a slightly wild look in her eyes, she said between her teeth.

"The friend who brings us presents every year on our anniversary." Deeks was confused for a moment more and then his expression turned to one of horror.

"You promised me you got rid of all of those," he hissed.

"I couldn't help myself." Her voice was pleading, asking him to understand, but Deeks crossed his arms, looking disappointed.

"Are you guys going to tell me what's going on?" Callen asked patiently, glancing between them with great interest.

"No," Deeks told him firmly and Callen nodded.

"Ok." He grasped the brown paper at the very top of the picture.

"No, don't!" They both shouted, but it was too late. He tore a giant strip of paper off, revealing a patch of a charcoal drawing.

"Oh my god," Deeks muttered as Callen frowned at the picture, shifting the bits of paper, revealing what was clearly a precisely rendered male chest. After a second, he glanced at Deeks, squinted and then asked,

"Is this you?" Deeks made a distressed sound and then breathed deeply, placing his hands on his hips.

"Yes, yes that is me." He gestured to the drawing, shaking his head. "A creepily remembered version of me by Anatoli Kirkin."

"He gave this to you? Why the hell did you keep it?"

"I didn't!" Deeks protested. "My clearly disturbed wife did."

"It's art," Kensi repeated in a tone that suggested she'd said it many times before.

"Of your naked husband, which a creepy Russian criminal drew," Deeks argued, shaking his head again.

"You can't burn art, Deeks!"

"Kirkin draws nudes of you and then gives them to you as anniversary presents," Callen said wonderingly.

"Actually, that one was a wedding present," Kensi corrected.

"Seriously?" Callen grinned, clearly delighted. "Sam is never going to believe this."

"Oh god," Deeks repeated. Kensi patted his arm soothingly, murmuring comforting words and what sounded like fervent apologies. Ignoring Deeks' obvious distress, Callen pulled back the rest of the paper.

"Wow, Kirkin has an excellent memory," Callen commented, sounding mildly disturbed as they all peered at the charcoal version of Deeks in all its naked glory. Groaning, Deeks covered his face with both hands and mumbled,

"Kensi, please shoot me."