A/N: Part three of the Villain Crush fic.

"Sit down, Detective." Yulia gestured to the table.

"I didn't realize this was a date," Deeks commented, discretely scanning the room for bodyguards as he pulled out a chair. It seemed, for the moment at least, that they were alone.

A single chandelier hung over the table, which upon closer inspection also held a chilling bottle of wine and a plate covered by a domed lid. The whole scene would have fit perfectly in a risqué romance novel. The thought almost made Deeks smiled, but he contained himself. It wouldn't be a good idea to insult Yulia at this point.

"I felt I should apologize for my actions yesterday. I don't usually act so aggressively when I meet someone for the first time," Yulia said, smirking at him. She was clearly enjoying herself.

"That's ok. I pulled a gun on you; it's a natural reaction." Her smile widened as he went along with her game, leaning back and crossing one leg over his knee. "So, tell me Ms. Chmiel, do you always invite the men you beat up to dinner?"

"Oh, Yulia, please," she insisted, like they were friends and she hadn't demanded his presence.

"Yulia."

"You intrigue me, Detective Deeks." Her accent grew a little more pronounced when she said his name, the individual sounds becoming clipped and sharper. She tilted her head as she blatantly observed him. "You originally were a lawyer, then you moved to the LAPD and now you work for a federal agency. It is very impressive."

"You've been checking up on me," he observed. He wondered who her source was and how they hadn't heard of her before this. She gave an elegant shrug. Gliding closer, she sat down, resting one elbow on the edge of the table.

"I like to know more about the people who interest me."

"And what about you, Yulia?" Deeks leaned towards her and saw her eyes flick up with interest. "You're pretty surprising yourself. Like with this place. I was expecting more grimy warehouse than super luxurious mansion." He glanced around at the intricate woodwork that was visible in the dim lighting. Yulia chuckled darkly.

"I have certain standards and the owners just happen to be in the Cayman Islands," she explained. "It was remarkably easy to break in. But rest assured, I will leave everything in the same condition I found it."

"That's very neighborly of you," Deeks drawled. She narrowed her eyes at him as she grabbed the champagne and started undoing the metal cage.

She wordlessly handed him the bottle with an expectant nod, and he popped the cork, pouring them each a flute of bubbly liquid. Deeks offered her one of the glasses, which she accepted with a smirk, playfully tipping it in his direction in a mock toast. She took a sip, gazing at him again.

"You do not look like a cop," she decided. "You are too…is "scruffy" the word?"

"I like to call it surf-chic."

"Ah, and a surfer too." Deeks wasn't sure if she was making fun of him or not, but they weren't getting anywhere with this method.

"Yulia, why did you ask me to come here?" he asked.

"I want to get to know you better," she said simply. "As I said, our little…altercation yesterday spiked my interest. I have quite honestly never met anyone like you."

"Somehow I think our current occupations make that impossible," he pointed out. Yulia reached out and used a short, but sharp, black nail to brush a curl of hair behind his ear.

"It does not have to be." He had to force himself not to react to her touch at all, but he wasn't sure he completely fooled her. Scrutinizing him again, Yulia stood, whipping the skirt of her dress around and in the process, revealing a wide slit that reached her mid-thigh.

As Deeks watched her apprehensively, she rounded the table. Her movements were predatory, smooth, yet clearly capable of violence if she wanted. She walked past him, lingering behind his chair for an uncomfortably long amount of time. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. She didn't say a word the entire time.

Eventually, Yulia passed on the other side of the table again. She held her glass negligently, bringing it to her lips for an absentminded sip before she set it on the table.

Her gaze was purposeful as she stopped directly in front of Deeks, forcing him to crane his neck to see her properly. She lifted her dress, exposing the majority of her leg from the thigh down. He didn't flinch this time when she slid her leg against his, straddling his thigh.

"So, tell me, Detective Deeks, what are you willing to do to secure the information I stole?" she asked, running the tip of her nail from his bottom lip to his chin.

A/N: Did I inadvertently rip off that weird fantasy scene from Criminal Minds with Reid and Cat? Apparently so.

However, no one will ship Yulia and Deeks together (yes, I'm still mad about that). And if you do, I will regard you with quiet disdain.