Author's Note: Hello, everyone, thanks for reading and reviewing and big, big sorry for taking this long with the update... I just overthrew pretty much half my plot and now I have still some figuring-out to do. I hope that I get back on track starting with this chapter... so that the next update won't take me another month... or longer... *gasp*
I will revise the other chapters (as mentioned before) once I find the time for it. For now, I hope you forgive me the little errors in music choice. This time I hope I did better research ;)
As always, I hope you'll like what you read. If not, sorry about that.
Read, review, and hopefully enjoy ;)
Deeks is, finally, at home, after the hour-long practice, and the other practice with Adrian. Really, this is draining, to say the absolute least, not just emotionally, but also physically. He feels like he ran a marathon – and Deeks actually ran a marathon before and didn't find it as challenging, to be perfectly honest. Yet, that may be because he ran the marathon because he felt like it, because he wanted to. He plays the violin because they have to catch a murderer, hence... it's not much of a personal choice, is it?
The detective closes the door, tossing the keys on the counter, shrugging out of his jacket, just to toss it on the couch in a similar way. Monty comes up to him, rubbing his furry back against the man's leg, letting out a happy welcome-home-bark. Deeks bows down to scratch the puppy behind the ears, "Hey there, boy. How was your day, huh?"
Marty puts the violin case down beside the couch to grab the pup, looking at him with mock seriousness, "I hope you didn't chew on my sneakers again. I still need those, buddy."
Monty, as if he actually understood, whines, wiggling his ears. Deeks can't help but smile, running a hand over the dog's head before he tugs him under the arm to walk into the kitchen. Deeks loves this dog, loved dogs in general ever since he can remember. Why? They are loyal, they give you the feeling that you aren't talking to yourself, though you actually are, there is always someone home to greet you when you come in, and no matter how shitty your day has been, be sure the pup will come lick your face, just because he loves you that unconditionally. Really, dogs are great.
Deeks, against what hygiene-rules may demand, puts the pup down on the kitchen counter. Monty, the good dog he is, sits down, calmly observing his master as he starts to rummage through the kitchen cabinets to grab the needed items.
"Well, I honestly hope you had a better day than mine... because my day sucked," he sighs, opening the can of dog food. "But what do I complain, huh? It's just a case, just a violin... and just someone who might want to murder me now... Maybe I'm just exaggerating, huh?"
Monty tilts his head at Marty – if possible, faking interest. Deeks chuckles to himself as he follows through with their daily routine of feeding.
"Alright, Monty. I bet you're starving. At least I hope you are, because otherwise that means you munched my sneakers after all," Deeks smirks as he preps up Monty's bowl. "So here we have... Le Petit Dîner pour le... bow-wow...," he declares with an awful French accent as he puts down the bowl for Monty, who eagerly digs into. "... Which is supposed to be turkey, though I don't see anything that looks like turkey, but hey, for as long as you like it, that's fine with me."
Deeks pets the puppy on the back another time before he gets some leftover takeaway out of the fridge for himself. Deeks leans his elbows on the counter, glancing at Monty intently, having to chuckle softly once he realizes that they probably look very much alike now. As Sam likes to say, Deeks eats like an animal at times – not that Marty actually cares for what Sam may think about his eating habits, though. Kensi and he take way too much pleasure in making fun of Sam's rabbit food in turn.
Once Monty is finished with his bowl, Deeks quickly cleans everything up and tosses his paper container into the trashcan.
"That's what I love about takeaway food. The containers are always throwaway. That makes cleaning up so much easier," Deeks tells Monty with a smirk. After that, he puts the puppy back down. Monty waggles his tail as he walks over to his pillow, lies down, and rolls on the side, looking absolutely content and happy with his life. Another thing about dogs Deeks just loves – they are so easy to make happy. Some scratching and cuddling, a bowl of food, some water, that's all it takes to make a dog's day a good day. At some point the detective can't help but think that this is a philosophy perhaps everyone should call to mind. It doesn't take outrageous things to be happy. The small things make the difference, something Monty seemingly knows by nature.
Deeks copies Monty's attitude and flops down on the couch, purposely sitting down on the other edge of the sofa, the one furthest away from the violin. This is home, work's over. And that means violin is over, too, or at least it should be. Deeks picks up the remote, turns on the TV to some comedy show, suddenly finding agitation growing within him tenfold as he can hear imagined violins playing a concert in the back of his head. And with every tune resonating in his ears, his heart seems to beat quicker. He can't help it, Deeks just wants the classical music to leave him alone for once. He hears it all day, and it's nice, mostly, better than he thought, but... he wants, needs a break at some point, this point. Deeks wants to hear jokes, people talking, laughing – to deafen the fine tunes that almost radiate from the violin resting on the other side of the couch. Maybe he should have gone to some club after all, or simply a busy street, but that's over now. The music is in his ears now. And the loud TV isn't helping any, which is why Deeks turns up the volume as far as he can without disturbing the neighbors, trying really really hard to focus on the show itself, but he simply can't concentrate on it. His breath hitches slightly, which actually makes Monty glance up from his comfortable position, looking somewhat concerned.
For goodness sake, just why is he still hearing Vivaldi inside his head?! Deeks rubs his lower arms with his palms absently before he jumps up from his seat to turn on the stereo also, to play his favorite Rock tunes. He runs a shaky hand over the back of his neck, feeling the fine hairs beneath his fingertips rising. Deeks can feel the heavy buzz of the drums vibrating in his chest, which makes the man more confident that he will manage to shut out the classics now, but when he turns around to head back to the couch, his heart instantly beats faster, so fast that he has to gasp. Just what the hell is wrong here?! Why can't this music stop for once? It stopped for so many years, but now it's back in his ears, just the same way it was back then. Sarabande. Loud and clear.
Just not that piece, please!
Deeks starts pacing once again, but then picks up the violin case to put it in dresser, hastily shutting the doors. At that point, Deeks doesn't even care that he is acting ridiculously childish, but the music just has to stop. It has to. He didn't have that in a few years, but now this dread is right back in his heart, all the way to his fingertips and he feels the strong urge to throw up the Chinese he just ate, not because he is actually nauseous, but because he feels this familiar sensation of nervousness pulling at his muscles. Deeks honestly thought he was past that by now.
Deeks sits down on the couch again, trying to focus on the TV show like before. Ah, a scene in a bus. There is no such music on a bus, right? A hesitant smile creeps to his face. Deeks concentrates on the voices and the scene, but then he hears this tune again. Deeks grits his teeth, turning up the volume another time, but still, he can hear it running through his mind, he can hear it in the bus of the scene. It's just everywhere. Deeks feels more than tempted to throw the remote into the TV, but then decides against it, after all, he doesn't have money to just throw away. Instead he switches off TV and stereo. The young man gets up from the sofa again, his body feeling as though electrocuted. Marty paces again, but then goes back to the dresser to grab the violin case, unable to shake off the feeling that the thing is haunting him. Deeks puts the violin back on the ground, takes three steps back, and then flops down cross-legged, glancing at the black case with narrowed eyes.
Just why can't he switch it off, call it a day and simply live his life again? This is a case, it's a job. It shouldn't matter to him that much – and honestly? It didn't in years. He didn't even think about it, except for that one time he mentioned it to Kensi that he used to play the violin as a kid. But the moment was so brief, so faint that it didn't bother him at all. It was just a remark, a sentence, an idea to find out more on the case they had by the time. It didn't pull him back into the dark corners Deeks purposely put so far away that he didn't get into touch with them that easily again. He didn't have that itching in his fingertips, didn't taste copper on his tongue. Nothing. Everything was fine back then. And now on this case? Marty feels fine, mostly, during practice. With Adrian, Deeks can completely forget about it, but now that he's at home... it feels even worse. And it did for the last couple of days, if Deeks is being perfectly honest to himself. He is restless and agitated when at home, no matter what he does. So is it really the practice that is pulling him down... or is it this instrument? Just when did the violin creep its way back into his life, the one after work, the one that actually is a life?
Deeks rests his his chin on his knuckles, narrowing his eyes as though entering a staring contest with that violin case. Monty blinks at him briefly, but then goes back to sleep, though that goes without the man's notice anyways. He's too busy glancing at the instrument in front of him, trying to decide what to do with it to make Sarabande disappear back into its box, the one he put it in for the last couple of years. And at this moment, Deeks has to fight any urge not to just take that violin and smash it into tiny pieces – really, if only this was not Hetty's priceless collector's piece, then he'd just take it by the neck and ram it into the wooden floor like some overly excited rock stars do on their concerts, just to hear that crunching of wood, smell the familiar odor of wood splinters, killing all sound.
But Deeks is thrown out of his inner turmoil when his cellphone rings. He fishes it out of his pocket, his eyes never leaving the instrument, and brings it to his ear, "Hello?"
"Deeks?" Kensi's voice rings from the receiver.
"The one and only," Deeks says automatically, the smile not reaching up to his face, though. "Is something up?"
"Not really, I'm just bored out of my mind," Kensi sighs. "What are you up to?"
"Talking to you?" Deeks says, and he knows that Kensi rolls her eyes at the comment.
"No shit, Sherlock. I mean other than talking to me," Kensi snorts.
"Thinking about you?" Deeks smirks, and now actually smirks because Sarabande is no longer playing as loudly inside his head now that he hears Kensi's voice in his ears. If he didn't love her for her voice before, Deeks surely does now.
"Aww, that was almost cute again," Kensi snorts. "Now really. What are you up to?"
"... I think the violin's haunting me," Deeks says, licking his lips. "You don't come to know if Hetty engaged in black voodoo magic at some point, by any chance?"
"Well, with Hetty you never know... but why do you think the violin is haunting you?" Kensi asks, a hint of worry in her voice.
"I don't know. I think it's still playing, though I'm not playing it," Deeks admits. Kensi is the only one he feels slightly comfortable talking about it, to a certain degree.
"So you hear music... you checked your stereo?" Kensi asks.
"Switched it off little while ago. And I still hear it," Deeks grimaces.
"No one in the house playing by any chance?" Kensi runs down the list of options.
"Nope. I love my neighbors, but none of them is into classical music," Deeks smirks.
"Well, maybe the songs from practice are still going through your head," Kensi shrugs sympathetically.
"I suppose so...," Deeks sighs. That's at least an explanation that doesn't involve that he is going crazy, something Deeks honestly favors over the one that does indeed involve him losing his sanity to that godforsaken instrument.
"But you're okay?" Kensi asks. "Or do I have to save you from the evil violin?"
"No, I'm fine, it's just... I don't know... maybe too much practice after all... or Hetty's evil voodoo," Deeks smirks. "Though I feel better now that I talk to you."
"Really?" Kensi asks.
"I don't hear the music now," Deeks hums, way calmer now. It's actually true. Sarabande is completely gone by now, as are all the other pieces that played inside his head before.
"Oh, that's good," Kensi smiles.
"So, you're my lifesaver once again," Deeks grins.
"Yeah, I know I'm simply amazing," Kensi snickers. "Did Monty eat your sneakers? You said he's been eyesexing those?"
"I didn't check yet, but he was hungry, so he didn't eat them at least," Deeks smirks.
"Good, I mean, we didn't pick those for nothing, right?" Kensi huffs.
"We? I did," Deeks insists. "But let's not talk about the sneakers... are you watching TV?"
"Yeah," she shrugs. "But there is only this crap comedy show on... I don't even get how this is supposed to be funny. I mean, the bus scene was just awful."
At this comment, Deeks flops down on his back, chuckling softly.
"What?" Kensi grimaces.
"I watched the same show before the violin decided to talk to me," he snickers.
"We're TV-buddies. We long since knew that, right?" Kensi huffs.
"Definitely...," Deeks sighs. That was something they shared even before they actually started to engage in their thing.
"... but you're really okay? Or you wanna talk about it?" Kensi asks, now more sincere.
"I guess I will just have to take an extra-long holiday from classical music once this is over...," Deeks sighs. "Like... years... decades... centuries..."
"That'd be a pity. Your play is really nice," Kensi argues.
"But if I start to think that the violin is talking to me, then I suppose this is a subtle way my brain uses to tell me to leave it alone for a while," Deeks smirks, closing his eyes, allowing Kensi's soft warm voice to hush all those evil pieces away, and the memories that threaten to come along.
"That might be true, of course," Kensi smiles gently.
"Hm," Deeks hums, running a hand over his face.
"... this is not some sick new attempt of yours to get me into phone sex, is it?" Kensi grimaces.
"No, I'm just tired," Deeks exhales. "So if I fall asleep, that's why."
"Am I that tiring?" she huffs playfully.
"You are that soothing," he corrects her.
"As I said, I'm simply amazing," Kensi snickers.
"You surely are... keep talking," Deeks smiles lazily.
"About what?" she asks. "I was with you most of the day."
"Yeah, but what about the time you weren't?" Deeks asks, glancing at the ceiling as the red, yellow and orange colors of sunset dance above his head.
"Well, once we were off the job, I drove home... warmed up some TV dinner – just to, more or less, enjoy it in front of TV... and after some time this show came on... and that's when I decided to call you," she shrugs. And at this point, Kensi can't deny how nice it feels to talk about those trivial things actually. Before, she always considered it a waste of time. If she shared something about her personal life, it was mostly about the more outstanding things she did – going on dates, going to some sport's club. However, with Deeks, now that they dare to dig into their thing, it feels not just comfortable but really, really nice to even talk about such nonsense about what she had for dinner, or what shows she watched. It gives her this feeling of familiarity, of closeness, as though Deeks is now actually there with her – and that just because of the report over her TV dinner.
Deeks allows his mind to drift into sweet nothingness as he listens to Kensi as she goes on about what she did or didn't, and what was wrong about this comedy show. It might be that his home doesn't calm him down, but for that he has Kensi.
The next day, practice is on the plan again... and Deeks couldn't be gladder that he only hears those pieces they actually play, and none that just became an echo of faint memories he'd rather forget about.
"Very well, we will now have our break," Mr. Smith declares, bringing Deeks back to the orchestra and out of his musing over missing imagined music.
"Awesome," Deeks mutters to himself with a smirk as he puts the violin back into its case.
"You actually sucked less than yesterday. Miracles happen after all," Adrian's voice rings from beside him. Deeks straightens up to meet the younger man's eyes with his typical cocky grin, "Aww, it's so considerate of you that you actually noticed."
"At least I'm no longer getting hell from Smith that you will royally screw this up," Adrian huffs playfully.
"And I'm getting fewer calls from the other people that they hate you, begging me to make you stop by hitting you with the violin in the back of the head, hard," Deeks retorts with a grin, taking a sip from his water bottle.
"Right, because I care so much about what people think of me," Adrian rolls his eyes.
"Right," Deeks winks at him. "Or else people might actually start to like you. How awful!"
"Exactly," Adrian manages to smirk. It's odd how fast familiarity can grow...
"Hey, one question, as fellow violinist and all," Deeks asks, licking his lips.
"Go ahead," Adrian snorts, "before I change my mind."
"Well, you play a lot. I play a lot. We play a lot...," Deeks exhales, but Adrian cuts him off, "Just say what you want or else I stop listening, man."
"Did you ever have it that you just heard some random classical music piece in infinite loop, though you didn't have it in practice?" Deeks asks, only meaning it halfway, actually. He wants to give Adrian the feeling that he shares a more personal bond with him – so that he starts opening up to him... and because Deeks honestly starts to like the guy. Once you peel all the layers of scorn and indifference away, there is actually a nicer Adrian, who is funny and passionate... that is of course only true for as long as that guy isn't the murderer, obviously.
"I guess...," Adrian frowns at him. "Why?"
"I want to get rid of it?" Deeks grimaces. Adrian knits his eyebrows at him, but then actually looks like he really contemplates on an answer.
"... just listen to some awful catchy tune to overwrite the piece going through your head," Adrian shrugs at him. "That's what I do when Mozart is being a bitch again."
"Thanks! I'll definitely try that one," Deeks smiles at him. He should have thought about that sooner, to be perfectly honest!
"What did you do before?" Adrian asks with an air of curiosity.
"... other than pathetically putting the violin in the closet?" Deeks grins, to which Adrian makes a face.
"After that I was so lucky a friend called to keep me distracted," the detective explains with a shrug.
"... you should better keep the former part to yourself," Adrian makes a face. "You're obviously weird, but that won't help your reputation in any way, just believe me."
"Yeah, I know what you mean," Deeks sighs. "Honesty can be a real nuisance."
"Speaking of nuisances, I won't make it to our daily nuisance of practice tonight," Adrian says.
"What? Why?" Deeks asks curiously.
"I have shift tonight... and I still have a private life, or what's left of it, thank you," Adrian huffs.
"Well, I will certainly miss my little slave driver," Deeks winks at him. "Or well..."
"You'll still practice for at least two hours. Trust me, you need it," Adrian looks at him with mock sternness. "But I think we're past the point where I actually have to change your diapers. You're... a toddler now."
"Thanks, daddy," Deeks shakes his head. "Whatever."
Deeks means to say something witty to keep up with the banter, but suddenly Adrian's features tighten and he averts his eyes.
"Anyways, catch you later," Adrian says with sudden urgency before he grabs his case and heads out. Deeks wants to call after him, but that is when he feels a familiar tapping on his shoulder.
"Kitty Kat," he puts on a fake smile as he turns back around, and Deeks has to admit to himself that it is a fake smile. He is actually disappointed that Adrian took off because he saw Katy approaching. And at this point, the detective honestly starts to believe that Adrian doesn't keep away from the others because he doesn't like them, or well, doesn't hate them, but because he is simply having the feeling that none of them would bother anyways.
"July," she grins back at him.
"What brings you here? I mean, other than your feet?" Deeks asks, cocking an eyebrow at her.
"Well, I wanted to get you to hang out with us... and I thought I'd be so nice to keep Adrian away from you," she shrugs nonchalantly. Deeks has to try hard not to make an honest comment about how you should treat people with due respect, even if you may not like them personally.
"We just had some small-talk," he says instead.
"... did he tell you if he murdered little kittens?" she asks. "We've all been asking ourselves, you know?"
"Gosh, Katy, you're being over the line, you know? He's not halfway as bad as you say he is," Deeks argues, though he keeps up a very casual tone for good measure. At this point, he can't allow Julian to become biased. Julian has to have connections to all the orchestra people to find the culprit, but on the personal level... he is honestly annoyed at the attitude seemingly the entire orchestra displays towards Adrian. He's really not that bad – and so young, still. At some point, one should already give him credit for the fact that he is simply a young man who hasn't found himself yet, and might just as well suffer through his post-puberty period. That is when you are still moody and bitchy?
"Whatever you say, Julian. But don't expect me to like him, okay?" she shrugs.
"Fully fine with that, but can't we just focus on something else? Like... your wonderful offer of hanging around, because I hope hanging around involves eating something? Coz I'm starving," Deeks smirks, clapping her on the shoulder in a friendly way. Katy goes with it, all resent over Adrian instantly deflating, and nods, "I'm so calling for Italian."
The two meet up with the others and make their way to one of the nearby restaurants, Italian, by Katy's choice.
"Honestly, Julian? You have my respect. For a guy who's actually that calm about practice, you actually push it since the last couple of days. I'm slightly impressed," Jimmy winks at him, taking another bite of his pizza.
"Well, with the prospect of playing first violin... even a guy like me makes the effort," Deeks shrugs.
"I bet Adrian's eating his heart out because of that," Christian snickers. Deeks already wants to say something to smoothly change the topic, but that is when Carter, God bless the man for once, jumps in.
"I've wondered, so you really didn't play for bigger orchestras yet?" Carter asks.
"No, only small ensembles... I went to some auditions and so, but I just didn't feel it," Deeks lies smoothly.
"You didn't feel what?" Judy makes a face. "The love?"
"Yeah, totally," Deeks grins at her.
"So you actually had offers and declined because you didn't feel it?" Judy knits her eyebrows at him.
"Pretty much, I guess. I mean, it's not like I always dropped out right after audition. I did play in the practice for a while, but I didn't get along with most of the guys, and it wasn't about sentiment, even, but about the way we played together. It just didn't feel right. There was no harmony, in the play, and that's something I wasn't willing to accept," Deeks says. He wants to sell the image of the free spirit. When he came up with the cover, he and Hetty agreed that it might be better not to make up a background story that involves playing in many prestigious orchestras, at least for U.S. grounds. It happens too easily that you get caught up, or someone actually played for that orchestra by the time and doesn't come to recognize you – that is never good. So with the free spirit who traveled the country before he settled down in a normal orchestra, though this orchestra is anything but normal, Deeks figures it will be easiest to make it a plausible story.
"That's why I eventually decided to go abroad, you see?" Deeks goes on to explain. "It was just a different feeling. And at some point I guess it actually helped a great deal that I hardly understood any of the ensemble... then I didn't know if they were complaining or insulting me."
"But there you played for bigger orchestras, right?" Christian asks curiously.
"Yeah, but not the real great ones. I always had the feeling that it was just too stiff – and still shoes I didn't even fit in the slightest, which is why I never made the effort to audition there. It was a nice experience, though, in the bigger ones, you know, actually onstage, getting applause. You know what I mean. However, the best was when I had the chance to play in the streets all over the world. That honestly changed my perspective on music," Deeks goes on to tell his little tale, trying hard not to grimace at the little grain of truth hidden within the statement.
"That you can get little money for hours of playing?" Katy snorts playfully.
"No, it's really that instant reaction you get. And when those oh so busy people take a moment to stop in front of you to listen, and be it for only just a second... then that already made my day, because I brought some music into theirs," Deeks goes on to explain, flashing a brief dreamy smile at them. And he is more than pleased to see that most of them actually nod in apprehension.
"But enough of me and my awesomeness," Deeks huffs. "What's the latest gossip?"
"Other than Judy and Jimmy having an affair?" Katy smirks viciously.
"Oh my God, you didn't just say that, did you?!" Judy breaks out, a blush creeping to her cheeks.
"What? You two would be totally cute together. Same first initials and all," Katy giggles.
"And so do you and Kim Kardashian. Does that mean you have to make out now?" Judy retorts.
"No, but I didn't kiss a certain someone yesterday...," Katy smirks.
"You can count yourself so damn lucky that your and my mother used to be friends in High School, or else I would take your saxophone and hit you in the head with it," Judy grumbles.
"Bring it on, girl," Katy challenges her mockingly.
"Don't dare me. I might change my mind," Judy replies grimly.
"And you got nothing to say to that?" Tom asks, turning to Jimmy, who throws a breadstick at the other man.
"Yeah... because that's how adults act," Tom shakes his head to get the remaining breadcrumbs out of his hair.
"You're the one talking," Jimmy huffs.
"Children, play nice," Carter exhales.
"I'm sorry that I ever brought this up," Deeks holds up his hands in surrender. "I was actually thinking about who's spit into the water dispenser or something."
"That's gossip to you? Just how lame can you be, Julian?" Katy cries out in exasperation.
"A few minutes back you were all amazed by my outrageous lifestyle," Deeks mocks.
"Yeah, but then you're this little puppy again who wants it to be just like it was back in school," Katy sticks out her tongue.
"Tells me the girl who just busted her best friend?" Deeks argues mockingly. "Kitty Kat, that's not nice."
"Kitty Kat?" Judy laughs maliciously.
"Julian, I hate you," Katy sighs.
"I know that you love me," Deeks huffs. All start to banter after that, having mock-fights over who is with whom and who sucks the most. Even if Deeks is not too happy about how they treat Adrian, they are a bunch of nice people, really.
They make him laugh.
Later the day, Deeks and Kensi made their way over to NCIS to check in with the others. Much to Kensi's surprise, Deeks was abnormally quiet on the ride there, but he shrugged it off and said that he is thankful for the silence for once. And after yesterday's conversation over the phone, the female agent gets the idea to at least some degree.
"Hey guys," Callen greets them as the two make their way inside. Deeks flops down in his chair, managing a weary smile, "Hey."
"Hey, so... I think I might have something interesting," Kensi declares.
"Well, shoot," Callen encourages her.
"I had a lengthy talk with Mr. Parker today. That guy is just sooooo talkative, about as much as Deeks, and that's hardly possible. Anyway, he said that the committee is thinking about throwing Carson out."
"W, what?" Deeks stammers. Now that is honestly something he didn't expect, not in his wildest dreams to be perfectly honest. He blinks at her incredulously.
"Yeah, same thought I had. Well, it's not out yet, and Parker was voting against it, but the committee isn't too sure if they want to have someone around who might be involved into a murder case," Kensi shrugs. "They probably fear for bad publicity."
"But it hasn't sunken through to public yet that it was a murder," Sam argues, but Callen replies, "Might be, but the assumption is by no means far-fetched. I mean, that's the typical rivalry theme, right? And the journalists have posed weird theories ever since Gallagher died. So that doesn't come as a surprise to me."
"But don't they let it look like Carson did it if they kick him out like that?" Kensi argues.
"Maybe they rather make Carson the fall guy," Callen shrugs. "It's one thing to throw someone out who actually hadn't to do with the murder, another when that guy actually is and they let him go on... possibly making an attempt on the next first violin, just to earn his place."
"Deeks?" Kensi turns to the blond man. "You didn't say anything about it yet?"
"Hm? Yeah, I...," Deeks coughs lightly, blinking a few times. "... this is odd."
"You okay?" Kensi frowns.
"Yeah, I think the Italian food wasn't all that good after all.. anyways, uhm... first of all... I'm honestly confused that Parker is talking that openly about the matter to you... I mean, nothing against you, partner, but you are posing as a secretary. Why does he share committee-intern information with you?" Deeks grimaces.
"As I said, he turned out t be extremely talkative," Kensi shrugs. "Though I'm kinda with you on that one. It's odd that he actually tells me. I mean, I could go to the press or whatever."
"To me, I just can't shake off the feeling that they are really trying to make Adrian seem just like the bad guy, no matter if it's true or not... but that's contradictory," Deeks thinks out loud, licking his lips nervously.
"Why?" Callen asks.
"Because the orchestra doesn't have a reason to throw him out just yet. Or even if they did, they should have done so right after I was elected first violin, if not the moment I joined."
"How's that?" Callen asks.
"Well, if they really wanted to throw him out, they should've done so right away," Deeks argues, and Sam agrees, "Right."
"Plus, they didn't make the release yet that I will play the first violin. As far as I know, that is because they want to make sure that I can pull it off, you know? I think if I were to royally screw this up, they'd still go with Adrian, because he knows all the pieces and can deliver if needed. He's second violin for a reason, right?" Deeks shrugs, absently running a hand over his sternum. "So, it's not out to public that Adrian won't be first violin. I mean... if I want to play it down and not fire him right away, then why don't I put that in all papers available to make a sign that no one got a better position once the competition was moved out of the way? That's what I'd do at least."
"He's right. If they want to keep Carson as a safety net for at least after the first performance Deeks is supposed to give, it'd make more sense to make that clear earlier, so that people don't jump to the conclusion that Carson actually murdered Gallagher to earn his spot," Kensi agrees. "That way they could've easily dissolved some of the gossip."
"Then why do they consider throwing him out... and arrange it that way?" Sam frowns.
"Well, ugh... Smith's a safety-player. He keeps Adrian around because he's so damn good, and can jump in for when I screw up or am otherwise... indisposed. And he can't give Adrian the first violin because of his plan to have a performer, and to bypass the scandal of second violin murdering first to earn his spot. So this is a nice middle way for Smith to actually gain most from it," Deeks shrugs, biting his lower lip nervously.
"Did Carson make any implications or so?" Callen asks.
"Not really. I mean... no, he didn't," Deeks shakes his head, pulling at his fingertips.
"Did you find anything out?" Kensi asks the Senior Agent. Callen gives another shrug, "Nothing much out of the ordinary. Nell and Eric went through all available security cameras whatsoever by now, to see who may have done something to his violin, but no chance. But we have something interesting on Bigsby. Turns out Smith's her godfather, though they never made it official."
"So it's safe to assume that he was the one who voted for her to be able to join the orchestra?" Kensi asks.
"I suppose it is. Her mother and him used to play together when they were young – and once Susanne made the decision to actually go for playing music herself, he helped her, because she struggled a bit with finding a placement," Callen explains, crossing his arms over his chest casually.
"He was actually the one who advised her to play the harp, because of lacking competition, at least for this orchestra and a few others around the area," Sam adds.
"Right... Katy, uh, mentioned that she played a few instruments before she started with the harp," Deeks sighs.
"But honestly? To me, that doesn't do anything on the case, now does it?" Sam argues. "She now has even less of a motive. I mean, she never has to fear for her position."
"And that was no reason from the start," Kensi argues. "As a harp, she never had to fear for Gallagher to take her spot whatsoever. Does that do something for Smith's motive, perhaps?"
"Not really," Callen shakes his head. "And anyways, even though Smith seems to be kind of shady, he actually suffered a heavy loss with Gallagher no longer there to make the money. Honestly, Carson is the one suspect that remains here, at least from the orchestra-angle."
"The thing is that all we have is circumstantial evidences. That won't hold. We need something solid," Sam argues.
"Well, if we can't figure it out, I'd still say we have Carson over for interrogation, see if he breaks under the pressure," Callen shrugs.
"If we do that and he doesn't break, it might be he won't talk to Deeks anymore either," Kensi argues, "and completely shuts down."
"But do we honestly want to push it through to the point where Deeks has to give the solo?" Callen argues. "I mean... nothing against his skills, but I don't think that this is something you'd fancy, right?"
Deeks opens his mouth, resembling a goldfish out of the water, his eyes unnaturally wide.
"Deeks? Did you listen to just a word we said?" Callen grimaces, though the concern is clear in his voice as he takes a few well-measured steps over to the detective, as though he approached a wounded deer. However, that is when Deeks simply falls off the stool with a thud.
"Deeks, if you are doing the dead-man-joke on us again, I will kick your ass," Kensi cries out, her voice shaking in fear, though. Sam is already the next to the detective, "Call an ambulance, now!"
Callen is already on the phone. Kensi and Sam are crouching next to Deeks. She holds his hand, not even caring for a bare moment if this is about their thing or if someone sees it. There is just Deeks, on the ground – and she has no clue what the hell is wrong with him.
"Sam? What is it with him?" she brings out shakily.
"Heartbeat's going through the roof, I don't know what the hell's wrong here," Sam grimaces, still assessing Marty's condition.
And Deeks, in that place far, far away in the corners of his mind, only sees dark blurs and hears Sarabande, humming through his ears, so loud, yet so faint that he knows no more.
Damn you, Carl Bohm.