AN: I'm a little nervous about posting this chapter...I debated where to cut it off. I also chickened out and cut it sooner, but I do think it works best this way. If you're angry at me after reading, please read the AN at the bottom. Next chapter should be up in a day or two.

Everything changes when the taskforce returns from their search of Kensi and Deeks's apartment. Deeks is presented with the documents discovered buried under the bush by his front door, each documents preserved and protected in evidence bags.

"You need to explain this, Mr. Deeks," Agent Winters says. He's sitting back in his chair, arms crossed with a superior expression on his face, like he's already won. Beside him, Agent Langford is practically mirroring his posture.

Deeks looks incredulously as the fake passports and cash. "I wish I could." He swallows hard. "I'm being set up."

"Our forensic experts say that bag was underground on your property for a minimum of three years. Possibly as long as five years. So, what you're saying is someone set you up more than three years ago, and then, what? Forgot about it?"

Deeks opens and closes his mouth a few times, but no words come out. He runs his hands through his hair. "I don't know what to say, okay? Maybe someone was trying to set me up for something. Maybe it's not even related to this? I don't know."

"Tell you what I think, Mr. Deeks. I think you're a manipulative and ruthless operator who just made a very big mistake. You thought we'd never find your little insurance policy because we'd assume no one would be stupid enough to leave it out in the open like that?"

Deeks runs his hand through his hair, but says nothing.

"Tell me, Mr. Deeks," Winters says, sliding a photocopy of the document with the series of alphanumeric sequences towards him. "What do these codes mean? Are they accounts? Addresses?"

"I don't know."

"This will all be easier if you just admit to everything."

Deeks sighs. "I didn't do anything."

"Oh, you've done plenty, Mr. Deeks. But you're done. You're caught."

"I didn't do anything," Deeks repeats.

Outside the interrogation room, Callen hooks his arm under Kensi's elbow and leads her to the most secluded corner of the boatshed. He knows without looking that his partner will follow.

"Okay, Kens. Is there any reason you can think of for Deeks to have those documents? The money?"

"The codes?" Sam adds.

Kensi reaches up to clutch at the engagement ring hanging on the chain around her neck. Callen pretends not to notice that her hand is trembling ever so slightly. "Not that I can think of," she whispers.

"Would he have put them together in case he ever needed to make a quick getaway?" Sam asks. "An escape plan?"

Kensi hesitates, but shakes her head. "Maybe a long time ago, but he would have told me. And he..." She takes a breath. She's tense and she's scared. The new information appears to have rattled her more than she wants to let on. "He wouldn't leave without me," she whispers fiercely, her faith in her partner and lover strong.

"Maybe it's left over; he just hasn't gotten around to updating it since you two got together?" Callen suggests.

Again, Kensi shakes her head. "We've talked about it," she tells them. "With our jobs; we know what could happen. We have plans...and documents and money...in place in case it's ever needed; just like I'm sure you two do. In our plan, we go together. He would have told me if he'd had a plan before."

Sam nods, accepting her answer. "Is it possible someone has been planning to set him up for this long?"

"The information breaches are more recent," Callen points out. "Years more recent."

"Doesn't mean whoever is behind it hasn't been gathering information all this time. Longer, even."

"But Deeks was a bad fall guy to pick. It's like Winters said, six years is a long time in a liaison position."

Sam sighs. "You're right. There was no guarantee he'd be here this long."

"There has to be an explanation," Kensi declares.

"Something will make this all make sense," Callen says. He shakes his head. "It's Deeks. We know he's not a mole."

"I'm going to go back to OPs," Sam says. "I want to check in with Eric and Nell, get some more information on Detective Monroe's death. I also want to have them look into the taskforce members, especially Winters."

Callen drops his voice to a whisper. "You think Winters is setting him up?"

"I think Winters is out to get him. And it bears looking into."

Sam leaves for OPs in hopes of making sense of the information they have and gathering more. Callen stays in the boatshed with Kensi, who is failing to hide her distress with the situation. Hetty has disappeared; Callen guesses she is also at OPs, searching for an explanation to make sense of the information they do have.

"Let's go back to that first case you shared with NCIS, shall we?" Winters poses it as a question, though everyone knows there's no option to say no.

Deeks sits defeated in his chair. He sighs and then provides a brief synopsis of information he has already provided. "I was undercover as a wannabe MMA fighter with the Blood and Guts Warriors when one of the members, Daniel Zuna, was murdered."

"How was he murdered?"

"He was blood packing; injecting extra blood prior to fights to increase his red blood cells. He was killed by Victor Janklow with an injection of heparin which caused him to bleed out through the most porous parts of his body; eyes, ears, nose."

"And you were aware the suspects in your assignment were active duty and recently retired marines?"

"Yes. That was the point of the gym. Most of the members were active or retired marines."

"Is that why you volunteered for the assignment?"

"How do you know I volunteered for that assignment?"

"We have a copy of your LAPD file."

Deeks sighs. "No. That's not why. It also wasn't the focus of the assignment, which was the whole mini mart for druggies angle."

"But you don't dispute that you volunteered."

"Yes, I volunteered," Deeks agrees. "Not sure what that has to do with anything?"

"It changed the course of your life," Winters points out.

"It did," Deeks agrees. "And I'll be the first one to agree to that. But there's no way I could have foreseen bumping into NCIS and becoming their liaison."

"No way, huh? Because according to your LAPD file, this was not your first dealing with NCIS."

"Not even your second," Langford adds. "It was your third case which crossed with NCIS; your third undercover case which crossed with NCIS. Once you were arrested by the LA field office while undercover and once you provided evidence in support of one of the LA field office's cases. And in both cases, you had volunteered for your assignment.

"I volunteered for a lot of assignments. I also got arrested a lot while I was undercover; by federal agencies and by LAPD. It's part of being an undercover cop. I'm not sure what point you're trying to make."

"You seemed to be trying to catch the attention of NCIS."

Deeks pauses. "I volunteered for a lot of assignments. If I wasn't undercover, I was trying to get undercover. I interacted with NCIS a few times. I also interacted with the FBI a few times. And some other federal agencies. I was doing my job."

"But in this particular case, you seemed to do it for a really long time. Several months for a drug bust. According to the file, you had the information to take down the ring after the first month."

"My handler wanted the supplier."

"That's not in the file."

Deeks huffs and then releases a frustrated laughing breath. "That's because my handler was Frank Scarli."

"And that's relevant how?"

"I obviously didn't know it at the time, but he was a dirty cop. Almost got me killed on my next assignment. Got my next handler killed. And the subject of my assignment. He was probably keeping me in to delay putting me undercover on my next assignment. I just...never thought about it until now."

"That's a good story, Mr. Deeks," Winters says. "But here's a better one. You kept yourself under with excuses. You played your suspects against each other. And you scared Victor Janklow into murdering Daniel Zuna."

"Why the hell would I do that?"

"To attract NCIS's attention."

"That is the most ridiculous thing-"

"Actually, it's quite clever. You made your impression, got yourself recruited. You had to go back to LAPD one last time, of course, because you had committed to another assignment. But it worked out in the end. Because when you got into trouble, what did you do? Did you follow protocol and call into LAPD?" Winters smirks and shakes his head. "Nope, no you didn't. You called NCIS after working just two cases together. You reached out for their help."

Outside the interrogation room, Kensi comes to a momentary stop in her pacing beside Callen.

"He's twisting everything."

"He's good," Callen says. "I mean, he's awful. But, he's good at painting the picture he wants."

"He's neglecting the fact that Deeks almost died during that case. If we hadn't gotten there when we had, he would have."

"If Deeks brings it up, Winters will probably just say it was a calculated risk to further confirm our trust."

The expression on Deeks's face confirmed to Callen that was exactly why he wasn't saying anything further.

"So, you manage to catch the attention of NCIS. You get yourself recruited as their liaison officer. You earn their trust." Winters pretends to be impressed, even whistles. "Hell, kid, you did a good job. You've got the director and assistant director of a federal agency going to bat for you. You pulled wool over the eyes of Henrietta Lange. You've got three highly trained agents convinced you're one of them. Hell, you're even sleeping with one of them."

At that, Deeks flinches. "Careful," He warns.

Winters smirks. "She's hot, kid. But must not be very bright. Because she's out there right now, completely convinced of your innocence."

"I know what you're trying to do. You leave her out of this," Deeks says sharply.

Winters clicks his tongue. "Maybe it's not all an act? Maybe some of the feelings are real, huh?"

Deeks huffs. "All of the feelings are real. There's no act. So, you leave my partner out of this."

"How long did it take you to get her into bed?"

Deeks ignores him, but his jaw is twitching.

"She must be one hell of a ride."

At that, Deeks leaps up and slams his hands onto the table. "I told you to leave her out of this."

Vance is heading for the interrogation room, but Callen beats him there.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Winters demands when Callen flings open the door.

"Deeks sit down," Callen calls. "You know he's trying to goad you into hitting him so he can officially arrest you."

"I know," Deeks says, slowly sitting back down.

Callen storms up to Winters, ignoring protests from both Winters and Langford. He grabs a fistful of Winters's shirt and drags him to his feet. He walks him backwards and holds him against the wall.

"What the hell do you-"

"Shut up," Callen demands, cutting him off. "I get that I have to let you continue this ridiculous charade of questioning a member of my team."

"It's not ridiculous. We have evidence-"

"And I told you to shut up." Callen pauses to glare at him. "But I will not stand by and allow you to speak that way about two members of my team, do you hear me?" He doesn't allow Winters any time to answer. "Agent Blye is an NCIS agent and she deserves to be treated with respect. She's also a highly trained operator, skilled in several forms of combat, and trained as a sniper. So, I would suggest not pissing her off. Do I make myself clear?"

"She's also really skilled with a knife," Deeks adds. "And today she's carrying two."

"I think you two have made your point," Vance calls from the doorway.

Callen releases his hold on Winters. He turns and joins the director.

"Winters, you're in my house and these are my people. Keep it professional or get out," Vance tells him.

Callen nods towards Deeks, a show of support, before turning from the doorway. He's still seething when he returns to Kensi's side. It's then that he realizes in the whole thing, Kensi didn't move. She's not the type of person to let someone else fight her battles. She's definitely not the type of woman to allow a man to stand up for her. Callen had reacted on instinct. But he had expected Kensi to be on his heels, if not pushing ahead of him.

Agent Fischer is standing on Kensi's other side, seemingly attempting to offer some comfort. The senior agent, whom Callen cannot recall ever having seen outside of the LA Field Office, still appears out of place in the boatshed. "I'm sorry this is happening, Agent Blye," he is saying to Kensi, kindly. "I know my team has only worked with you a few times, but I would never have guessed...well, you know."

Kensi nods.

"Deeks is being set up," Callen tells Fischer. "Or something else is going on. But he's one of us. And he's not a traitor or a mole."

Fischer considers him for a moment and nods. His expression tells Callen that he's going along with him to make him happy, but right now Callen doesn't care.

"What do you know about Winters?" Callen asks.

Fischer purses his lips. "Agent Tom Winters. Been with the Bureau, probably going on twenty five years now. Always been a bit of an ass. Always a bit sexist," he glanced to Kensi in sympathy.

Kensi waves him off. "Anything else? Political? Motivations? Enemies?"

"He's always pushing an angle, I can tell you that. No one really likes him all that much, but I'm not sure if he's got enough power to have powerful enemies, you know?" he pauses. "Tell you what? I have some contacts with the FBI; I'm always liaising assignments with them these days. I'll check into him and get back to you."

"Thank you," Callen tells him.

"Thanks," Kensi says. She offers him a smile, though it barely comes close to reaching her eyes.

Fischer leaves them together and heads over to rejoin his other agents.

"What's going on, Kens?"

"Nothing."

"Kens?"

"Nothing. It's just...been hours. I'm tired and I want this to be done. But I don't think it will. And that's making me realize that this is going to go on for days, if not weeks or longer. My partner is being interrogated. My home is a crime scene. Our team will be considered compromised. What happens tonight, huh? I can't go home. I can't even go home to get any of my things. And I don't want to leave him here." She reaches to clutch to the ring hanging around her neck again.

For a moment, Callen wonders if he should give her a hug. But she looks really upset, almost as if she is...starting to doubt her faith in Deeks. And Callen doesn't know what he would do if she were to admit to that, so he refrains from hugging her and the moment passes in silence.

Back in the interrogation room, Winters is angry that he's been derailed from his questioning, but he knows better than to attempt to use Kensi again. He goes back to the beginning. Accuses Deeks of seeking out NCIS. Volunteering for the Zuna case to catch the attention of NCIS. Convincing Victor Janklow to kill Zuna to ensure the attention of NCIS. Calling NCIS when he's in trouble on his next LAPD case for the sole purpose of confirming his spot with NCIS. Selling Hetty's personal information. And then burning a friend and fellow undercover cop, Phillip Monroe, who was undercover in a joint LAPD-FBI operation.

"Quite a lot of coincidences, don't you think?" Winters says.

Deeks sighs. "Only in the way you tell the story."

"How do you tell the story?"

"Like I said, I bumped into NCIS undercover. It was a coincidence. Janklow killed Zuna; I had no part in that. If I'd had any idea it was going to happen, I would have stopped it. But I didn't know and NCIS came into the picture and I became the liaison. I didn't sell any information."

"That's a boring story."

Deeks huffs out a laugh. "Boring? Fine, if you think my life for the last six years has been one giant cover, how do you explain the good work I've done?"

"All part of the cover. Very convincing," Winters says condescendingly.

"How about the number of times I've almost died, been shot, stabbed, blown up, tortured and kicked in the nuts? Because all of those things have happened. Some of them more than once. Why would I continue to put myself at risk if I wasn't in this for the right reasons?"

"Simple. I think you're a sociopath. You get off on the challenge."

Deeks runs his hand through his hair. "Oh my God, I can't even..." He sighs. "I give up. I don't even know what to say to you anymore. You are an awful interrogator."

"You want a more traditional interrogation?" Winters pulls another piece of paper from his file. "Here's a sworn written statement from Victor Janklow, following our interview with him in prison. He agrees to the actual murder of Daniel Zuna, but says you were in on it. He never pointed a finger at you before because he was terrified of you."

Deeks scoffs. "That's ridiculous! I had no idea he was going to kill Zuna. I would have stopped him if I knew. Can I remind you the man is a liar and a killer?"

"And what reason would he have for lying to us?"

"To get me back for putting him in prison."

"That would be a good explanation, except we also have records that he's been paid off for his silence. According to Janklow, once he figured out what you were up to, he called you on it and you've been paying him off since. Fifteen thousand dollars twice a year for three years."

"Okay, that's even more ridiculous. I don't have that kind of money. Nor do I have a reason to pay anyone off."

"The money came from an offshore account." Winters smirks and pauses for effect. "What do you want to bet the paying account will match the information we pulled out of your flower bed this morning."

Deeks ran a hand through his hair. "If it does, it's only because I'm being set up. I have no idea where those documents came from."

"How about we move to something a little more recent then? How about where were you the evening of January 22, 2016?"

Deeks blinks at him, momentarily thrown off. "Uh, what day of the week was that?"

"Friday."

"I was in Washington. My partner and I spent four days in Washington taking some tactical courses out of the Navy Yard. Professional development and all that. We stayed in off base housing right outside the Navy Yard."

"We know. Now, tell me about Friday."

Outside the interrogation room, Kensi swore under her breath, but Callen heard.

"What?"

"I went out for drinks with Abby. Girls only; her rule. When I got back to the hotel, Deeks was asleep. The next morning he said he'd gone for a walk and then crashed early."

"So, whatever they want him for..."

"No alibi."

Inside the interrogation room, Deeks tells them the same thing.

"So, you're saying, between the hours of seven and midnight, you were alone and have no alibi."

"No alibi for what?"

"Please answer the question."

"Yes, I was alone."

"So, you were alone for five hours, giving you plenty of time to murder NCIS Intelligence Analyst Christopher Boyd."

"I have no idea who that is."

"He's the intelligence analyst who had just recently contacted our taskforce saying he had information pertinent to our investigation. He was killed before he could tell a thing."

Deeks rolls his eyes. "Well, I'm sorry for your loss. Sounds like you're really broken up over it."

"He was killed less than two miles from where you were staying."

"I didn't kill him."

Winters pulls several pieces of paper from his folder this time. He starts with laying several grainy security camera pictures down in front of Deeks. "Cameras in the area caught these shots of the killer. Look familiar?"

"This could be anyone. The resolution is far too poor to make out features."

"How about this one?" He lays down a final image capture. This photo still is taken from the back. The suspect is wearing dark cloths over his tall frame. His head is turned away from the camera, but his longer blonde hair is easily visible.

Deeks sighs. "I agree it looks like me. But it's not me."

Winters ignores him. He lays down a forensics report in front of Deeks. "Forensics found traces of sand on the victim."

Deeks raises an eyebrow. "Sand? That's not exactly unusual..."

Winters smirks. "Sand from the pacific coast. Narrowed it down to the California area." He pauses for a moment. "You're a surfer, aren't you, Mr. Deeks?"

Deeks runs a hand through his hair.

Winters doesn't wait for him to answer. "And when we confirmed your registration in the tactical classes, we found out it was a last minute registration. Funny how Christopher Boyd contacts us to provide information. And the next moment you register yourself in a course across the country, for the first time, might I add. And then Christopher Boyd is dead."

"I didn't kill him," Deeks insists.

"Strange, though, an LAPD detective flying across the country last minute to take an NCIS tactical class."

Deeks runs his hand through his hair again. "I went as an NCIS liaison. With my partner."

"And you have no alibi."

Deeks finally gives up and buries his face in his hands. "I thought it would be nice to have a quiet night to myself." He mumbles through his hands.

Outside the interrogation room, Kensi has resumed her pacing. Callen didn't try to stop her and one glance her direction tells him not to bother trying now. Her face is tightly controlled. What emotions she's suppressing, Callen can't begin to guess.

Sam appears at the side door and makes his way over to Callen.

"Find anything out?" Callen asks, "Because we're not doing very well over here. They're stacking evidence against him."

"I know," Sam says. "We had the video feed up in OPs. Eric and Nell are cross checking every piece of evidence they bring forward against him."

"What did Eric know about Detective Monroe's death?"

"Not much more than Winters brought up. Detective Monroe was undercover for ten months. Joint LAPD-FBI operation. FBI had point, but their guys didn't make it past the front door. Monroe was the only operator to successfully infiltrate the cartel. He made a scheduled check in and provided enough information that they planned a total takedown within two weeks. Within forty eight hours he was compromised and killed. Cartel shipped out, left his body strung up as a statement. Theory is his identity was sold for cash. Like Deeks said, LAPD blamed the FBI. The FBI blamed LAPD. The leak was never traced."

"There can't be a lot of people who had access to that information."

"Not during the operation. But once they had enough to take down the cartel, more were brought into the fold in preparation for the takedown. That's when the leak happened."

"Deeks works with us; he doesn't have anything to do with LAPD operations not related to NCIS. He wouldn't have been given that information."

"FBI's theory is that LAPD's servers are less secure. Easy for anyone to access once the information was out there for the taking."

Callen sighs. "And Deeks, theoretically has access to that information."

Sam nods. "I've got Eric digging into Winters. From what we've gathered so far, he's got his eyes on a top position, but doesn't have the fortitude to actually get there. Heading this taskforce and taking down the mole would be a huge career win for a man like Winters."

"Enough for him to blindly chase an innocent man?"

Sam shrugs. "Maybe even enough to set him up. He's made a few minor mistakes in previous cases, rumour is he's covered up larger mistakes. Eric's going to find out everything he can, but it could be promising."

Callen nods, but is quickly distracted by a taskforce member, Agent Andrews, getting off his phone, smiling confidently. He then strides towards the interrogation room. "This can't be good."

Andrews knocks and then opens the door without waiting for an answer.

"Yes?" Winters asks.

"Forensics just called."

"And?"

"Multiple finger print matches found on the documents we found this morning." He smirks.

Winters mirrors his smirk and turns to Deeks. "So, your fingerprints are all over the documents you claim never to have seen which were found buried in the flowed bed outside your front door. How do you explain that?"

Deeks momentarily looks like a deer caught in headlights. He swallows hard and shakes his head. "I don't know," he says quietly.

Winters motions to Andrews. "It's time for handcuffs."

Outside the interrogation room, Callen stares in shock as Andrews steps into the room with handcuffs. Deeks argues, but it's half-hearted. Callen wants to intervene, but knows he has no grounds to do so without some piece of evidence to help their case. Their faith in their team member alone is not enough. He looks over to Director Vance for direction. Vance shakes his head, telling Callen he won't be intervening either this time.

"How did they get a fingerprint match?" Sam asks.

"Either someone paid someone off in the forensics lab," Callen says, "Or..." He trails off.

Sam sighs, "Or his fingerprints are actually on those documents."

Callen takes a breath and looks around the room. Kensi has momentarily stopped pacing and is staring up at the video screen as she watches her partner and lover handcuffed and read his rights. Her expression is a mask of nothingness. Agent Carter, from the LA Field office, approaches her and says a few words. She nods and thanks him before he moves away. Agent Fischer moves in as well, still somewhat bumbling and out of place. He seems to be reassuring her by promising again that he will look into Winters through his FBI contacts. She thanks him, too, but her eyes don't leave the screen.

Callen looks back to Sam. "Did Eric have any idea where the accounts were from or what the codes meant?"

"There were three accounts. All offshore. Lots of legal tape to jump through to track down names and records. Eric's going to try to hack it, but he's not too encouraged. The codes he has no idea; has all of his little high tech programs trying to break them, but he doesn't think they're standard codes. There were eleven codes. All different lengths. Most had numbers and letters. One only letters. Two had other symbols. Three had capital and small letters, while the rest all had capital letters. One had what looks like a backwards four." Sam shakes his head.

"Maybe it's shorthand that makes sense to the person who wrote it."

Sam lowers his voice. "It looks like his writing, G." He pulls out his phone and shows Callen a photo he had taken.

"Let me see," Kensi's voice surprises them both. In their distraction, she had approached and was standing right in front of them.

Sam holds his phone away from her. "Kensi, we don't know what this means."

"Let me see it," she repeats. "I'll know better than anyone if it's his writing."

Sam sighs and hands her the phone.

She stares at the photo of the codes for a long moment, her jaw clenched, and then she takes a deep shuddering breath. She gives them a sharp nod. "It's his," she whispers.

"Kensi," Sam holds out a hand as if he's going to lay it on her forearm for support. She brushes him off with a shake of the head. "No," she whispers. She shoves his phone into his hand instead. She crosses her arms over her chest. Callen notices this time she's not clutching her engagement ring.

"So, the documents must have been his," Sam says gently. "I'm sure there's an explanation for them. In our line of work, having an escape plan is a good thing. A necessary evil."

"We have an escape plan," she whispers, reminding them of their earlier conversation, "Together."

"Maybe it's left over from an assignment he had before us?"

"Why would he bury it?"

"I don't know, okay?" Callen finally feels his calm snap a little bit. On the video screen, the taskforce has finished handcuffing Deeks. They've left him on his chair and are trailing out of the room. If this was Callen's case, he'd do the same thing right now; give the suspect time to panic. It's a good tactic. Panicking suspects were much more likely to give up information.

Kensi turns from them. Callen thinks she hurrying for the privacy of the bathroom. She's within a couple feet of the interrogation room door before he realizes he's wrong. The only person close enough to try and stop her is Agent Winters, who learns the truth to Callen's earlier words. He earns a swift kick to the groin for his attempt to stop her. With his crumpled body across the hallway, Kensi is able to let herself into the interrogation room, grab one of the chairs and use it to jam up under the doorknob before anyone else can get to the door.

Langford and Fischer help Winters to his feet and over to the couch while Agent Andrews yells angrily through the door and experimentally presses his shoulder against it to test how hard he would need to hit it to get through.

"Leave her be," Vance calls.

"But, Sir," Andrews argues.

Vance shakes his head. His expression is dark. "If anyone's going to get him to talk, it's her. Leave her be."

Inside the room, Kensi sits in the remaining seat across from Deeks. Deeks sits quiet and defeated, arms handcuffed behind him. After a moment, she shakes her head and moves the chair around the table so she is beside him. "I know you, Deeks," she murmurs. "Talk to me."

He sighs and stares down at the table.

She runs her hand up and down his upper arm a few times and then across his back and down. "Please talk to me, Deeks. I don't know how much time I have."

"You shouldn't be in here," he whispers.

Kensi tenses, but presses on. "I'll always be here for my partner. That's how we roll, right?"

Deeks stiffens, but manages a quick nod. "How we roll," he mumbles.

"I'm doing everything I can to help you. We all are. But something else has to be going on here. And only you can give us that information."

He shakes his head. "I don't have any information to give."

She withdraws her hand from him. "Please, Deeks. Please, at least will you look at me."

He keeps staring down at the table.

Kensi swallows. "It's okay if you had an escape plan that didn't involve me," she says, even though her voice cracks a bit. "I understand. But if that's why you won't admit to the documents being yours, you need to come clean. I'll be okay with it."

"They're not mine," he says. He's still looking at the table and not her.

Her brow furrows for a moment. "They've been there for years," she presses. "Your fingerprints are all over them." She swallows. "The codes are in your handwriting."

He looks at her then.

She nods. "I know you, Deeks. I'd know your chicken scratch anywhere," she tries to joke, but it falls flat.

His jaw tenses, but he says nothing. His gaze tightens on her ever so slightly, but he doesn't look away. He makes no motion to laugh at her attempted joke.

She stares into his eyes for a long moment, and then her lips part and she shudders on her exhale. "Oh," she breathes.

"Kens," he whispers her name, but she's leaning backwards now - away from him.

"You really wanted to go to that tactical class," she states, as if she's running through the memory in her head.

"I..." he starts, but trails off.

"You had that black sweatshirt with you on that trip," she murmurs. "It didn't come home. I joked that you could lose anything..."

"Kensi..."

Her chest heaves. "You got rid of it on purpose," she whispers.

Deeks shakes his head. "I didn't," he says, but his denial is weak.

She leans forward, tears now welling in her eyes. But she's still able to meet his gaze evenly. "Tell me I'm wrong, Deeks. Tell me I know you...that you would never do this." She begs.

He stares back at her, silent, but his eyes are darting between hers. His jaw is clenching and unclenching as if he'd trying to form words. Outside the room, there is nothing but silence. All eyes are glued to the scene unfolding before the many agents. Deeks continues to work his jaw as Kensi stares him down; a sure sign he's about the break.

Callen glances to his partner. Sam looks just as stricken as Callen feels. There are no words exchanged. What could they possibly say as they watch their friends and co-workers' relationship fall to pieces before them?

"Every time I bring up you becoming an agent, you put me off," she whispers.

"I'm a cop."

"No, you're not. And you know it." She sucks in a trembling breath. "You never have a good reason. Always an excuse."

Deeks takes a series of short breaths, almost looking panicky, before he manages to get his breathing back under control. "Kensi. Please."

Kensi's crying in earnest now. "What about me, Deeks? Please tell me I was more to you than a source of information."

"Of course, I..." He trails off on his own. His eyes are filled with desperation and fear now.

She pulls the chain holding her engagement ring off of her neck and holds it out between them. "Was this all just a game to you? Just one giant cover? Was I just another source of information?"

"Kens..." He refuses to look at the ring.

She shakes the ring between them. "Does this mean anything to you?"

He opens his mouth, but no words come out. He closes his mouth and stares at her, guilt written plainly all over his face.

"Did you ever plan to marry me?" She whispers.

"You weren't part of the plan." He finally breaks. It's not loud, not dramatic, not particularly powerful. But it's heartbreaking to watch.

Kensi's eyes close and her body shudders. Broken.

Outside the room, Callen is suddenly reminded of that TS Eliot quote Hetty once said to him. This is the way the world ends. Not with a bang, but a whimper.

AN: Thank you for reading this far. Please stick with me! Keep in mind 3 things - the name of this story, that I would never disgrace these characters, and that chapter 3 will be up in a day or two and will provide some answers...