Author's Note: Hello, everyone! Thanks for reading and reviewing. You're such kind people.

I'm truly sorry that this update took so long again. Writer's block is still... blocking. And I had to work on some of my other stories before I could return to this one. And then "real life" also called. If only university would finally offer fanfiction as a subject... that would make my life so much easier and so much more fun.

As already mentioned, the medical stuff I have from the internet, so I don't guarantee for any kind of accuracy. I just build on the effects not being that bad from the dosage Deeks got – but that this still gives him a bit of a challenge. Whoever works in the field, please don't feel offended. Same is true for computer-stuff. My knowledge reaches no further than typing texts, using the internet... and switching it on and off. So please just... ignore it if it really bothers you. I just want to push the plot - because it took me so long already.

Anyways, I still sincerely hope that you won't be disappointed with this chapter^^

Read, review and hopefully enjoy;)

After Deeks was poisoned the other day, Kensi came early in the morning to see him, and make sure that he doesn't just sign himself out AMA without anyone's knowledge. He was poisoned, for goodness sake, then a girlfriend, even if not officially, gets to be worried. She enters the room to find Deeks wide awake, much to her surprise.

"Hey, Fern," he greets her.

"Hey," she can't help but smile as she comes closer. "How are you this morning?"

"Great... though I didn't have my sponge bath," Deeks winks at her. "But maybe I get it from you this time for real?"

"Only in your dreams," Kensi snorts, but then pats him on the head mockingly to make a point. "Only in your dreams..."

"Sweet dreams, though," he chuckles.

"Well, I brought you some clothes. Hetty made a few phone calls to make up a cover-story that also fits if we can't have you released today. Stomach flu is always a good excuse, I guess. I hope it's okay that I took Monty over to my apartment. I wanted to be sure the mutt is alright, and then I thought it'd better to just take him in till you're out of hospital, I mean... I couldn't tell just how long it'd take and...," she rambles, but Deeks taps her on the back of the hand, "Thanks, but you forgot one thing."

"What? No," she argues.

"Don't I get a proper greeting?" he argues with mock-vehemence. Kensi rolls her eyes, but then leans down to give him a kiss anyway. It might be that she gets to fuss a bit, but Deeks also gets to be a bit, well, needy for body contact.

"Only because you almost got killed," she warns him, tapping her index finger against his chest.

"Obviously. Or else I wouldn't dare to ask," he huffs.

"Good, keep that in mind," she snickers. "Alright, I'll see if I can find your doctor while you get changed."

"What? You don't help me with that?" he waggles his eyebrows at her mockingly.

"So not happening," Kensi huffs before she walks outside to get a doctor. Deeks shakes his head with a smile. What would he be without her, huh? The detective flops his legs over the side of the bed and starts to dress, glad for the familiar fabric against his skin. As he finishes the zipper, Kensi comes inside with Dr. Malik in tow.

"Ah, Doc, good morning! I hope she didn't drag you in by your hair. She can be a bit over the top," Deeks greets the physician.

"No, no, she just... insisted," Dr. Malik smirks at him as he approaches the detective. "So, how are you this morning, Mr. Deeks?"

"Oh, like a bucket full of sunshine," Deeks jokes.

"As could be expected after you were poisoned," the doctor huffs playfully as he starts to check Deeks.

"Listen to the expert," Kensi hums from behind him.

"I feel much better," Deeks insists.

"Did you have stomach pains overnight?" Dr. Malik asks.

"No bad ones," the detective replies.

"Nauseous?" the physician goes on.

"I would say... just not in the mood for eating," he argues.

"Okay, follow my finger with your eyes," the doctor instructs him. Deeks obeys.

"Dizzy?" Dr. Malik questions.

"Perhaps?" Deeks shrugs his shoulders.

"You want to get out of here very much, huh?" the physician smirks at him.

"You have no idea," Deeks smirks. "It's nothing against you or your colleagues. You are fine people, but hospitals and I never... grew close."

"Well, you're not the first patient of mine who thinks like that," the doctor winks at him.

"So? Can I get out of here?" Deeks asks hopefully.

"I would rather keep you here at least another day, to be perfectly honest. Your heart rate is still a bit irregular at times. Though not life-threatening, it's still worrisome," Dr. Malik argues.

"Well, I bet that my partner will be so kind to drive me, so that I don't crash the car if my heart decides to skip a beat. And other than that, I just play the violin," Deeks debates. He wants to be back on the job. He got the chance from Hetty to finish this case. And Deeks has to finish this, has to.

"Well, you might get sick, too. Stomach pains may also come back on occasion," the physician tells him in a warning tone.

"I also worked when I had a nasty food poisoning," Deeks replies, offering a smirk.

"And that is surely nothing your doctor advised you to do," the physician argues.

"Oh, he was delighted," the detective snorts. The doctor frowns at him, so Deeks explains, "He was delighted because he didn't know."

"Just what I thought," Dr. Malik chuckles, but then turns more serious, "As I said, I would rather keep you a bit longer to be on the safe side."

"I wouldn't be alone. And I can wear one of those heart rate monitor things if that makes you feel any better," Deeks bargains.

"You don't have to reassure me, Mr. Deeks. You should think about that for yourself," the doctor argues, narrowing his eyes at him. "You have to see that it was a great strain on your body. You were very lucky that it was a close shave. It could have been worse. So really, you should take it easy for your own sake, not mine."

"Yes, but you are the one I have to convince so that I get to sign myself out. My boss is very... caring," Deeks argues. "So I need your okay."

"Ah, so I have to expect her to call me," the physician grimaces.

"Yes," the two agents say in unison.

"Well, I see that you will probably try to sneak your way out if I don't let you go, so it's probably beside the point anyways. However, I hope that someone will have an eye on you. As you pointed out, you will not drive a car. You will take it easy. Drink plenty. Take the pills you are prescribed, as they are prescribed. Take a break when it's needed. Get at least eight hours of sleep in the first couple of days. And wear a heart rate monitor. I'm not taking any chances," the doctor warns him.

"All fine with me for as long as that means I get out of here," Deeks holds up his hands in surrender.

"You two are very persistent," the doctor grimaces, shaking his head with a soft smirk tugging at his lips.

"We're a bunch of bull-heads," Deeks nods with a smirk tugging at his lips.

"Well, then I guess you are about to get your will," the doctor exhales. "I will send Deanna with the paper forms for you to fill out. You will get something against nausea and something you're supposed to take if your heartbeat is really too fast. If it gets too bad, you have to come back to hospital immediately."

"I will make sure," Kensi nods her head.

"Good, I want to see you regularly for check-ups, though. I think we will come to an arrangement, because I can be very bull-headed also," Dr. Malik smirks at him.

"Again, I will make sure," Kensi intervenes before Deeks gets any chance to comment on it.

"Alright, then I will see you soon again," the doctor warns him. Deeks flashes his trademark smirk at him, "Wouldn't have it any other way, Doc."

"I bet. Okay, Deanna will come with the forms soon. If you'd excuse me, then, I still have some other patients to talk to?" Dr. Malik smirks.

"Thank you," both say in unsion. With that the physician heads back out. Little time later, the nurse comes inside with the needed papers. Deeks signs them as fast as he can. Another day in hospital is worse than any stomach pain this poison could ever give him.

"You're really eager to get out of here," Kensi comments.

"Yep," he shrugs. That is no secret to him. Deeks wants to get out of here. He hates hospitals from the bottom of his heart.

"And you're pretty fast," she narrows her eyes at him.

"Let's just say that this is not the first time I fill out these forms," he smirks at her.

"Well, you know, you usually should stay," Kensi argues.

"Yeah, but you know how it is, we're always needed, for saving the world," he jokes.

"You wish," she snorts.

"Fern, I'll be fine," Deeks reassures her.

"Deeks, you were poisoned. That means by definition that you're not fine," she argues, feeling the worry and concern bubbling up in her throat again. She can't help it. Kensi needs him, needs him close, needs him in her life. However, his attitude towards danger and injury is that of almost perfect nonchalance, and that's not exactly helpful for her to keep him safe, to keep him around.

"And someone is killing musicians slash Marines for no reason. That's not fine either," Deeks argues, suddenly very serious.

"Just don't die while at it," she grumbles.

"I won't," he smirks as he carefully gets up. He holds back the grunt he would like to let out and simply slows down a bit more.

"Okay, after I get my equipment, what's the plan for the day?" he asks. "Or do I actually get a say in this?"

"If someone asked me, you wouldn't have any say in this, but since you're the main cast on this case, you do get some say, though Hetty will surely give you hell if you overdo it," Kensi warns him. "After I gave you hell for it."

"Aye aye," Deeks makes a mock-salute.

"Anyway, let's get your pills and your monitor. If you make it to the car without throwing up or a heart-attack, you've taken the first hurdle," she narrows her eyes at him.

"Sounds like a deal to me," Deeks smirks. Kensi rolls her eyes before the two make their way over to the pharmacy.

Little time later, they are in the car.

"Okay, so do we have anything on the videos?" Deeks asks, feeling the need to focus on the case – to feel less like a victim and more like a detective again.

"Eric and Nell are still working on it, but we have to see if we can dig up the missing files that were deleted," Kensi shrugs. "They will check his computer once I'm inside while I'll look around. We realized that they still have many security cameras that work with tapes, so I will see if maybe he still has those lying around somewhere."

"Tapes? Seriously? I thought that Smith would have the greatest security system money can buy," Deeks grimaces.

"No, he's actually that... stingy, I guess," Kensi shrugs. "Well, you heard it, he's in charge of the finances also, so he set the priorities... differently."

"Coz that worked for him so well, with his first violinist dead and the other targeted," Deeks mutters under his breath.

"That's what I was thinking, too," Kensi snorts her agreement. One of the reasons why they don't come forward is the meager video surveillance they were provided in the first place.

"Okay, so we go into Smith's office," Deeks nods.

"No, I go alone when you are in practice because that means Smith's with you, right?" Kensi corrects him, though she doesn't use her lecturing tone. Deeks just got out of hospital after he was poisoned, so he gets a bit of credit.

"Yeah, sorry, makes sense. Though I don't like it to let you go all alone," Deeks argues.

"Oh yeah, someone might come and try to hit me with a violin in the head," Kensi snorts.

"Someone tried to kill me," Deeks argues.

"But the suspects are with you when I'm in the office," Kensi snickers.

"Maybe we forgot about the gardener. It's always the gardener... and then he's gonna come with his big scissors, snip, snip, snip!" Deeks jokes, mimicking to cut with garden shears.

"There isn't even a garden around the building," Kensi rolls her eyes.

"Could be a very mad gardener... who's jobless," Deeks grins.

"You're so stupid at times, you know that, right?" Kensi snorts.

"Hey, you're smiling now. That already makes it worth being stupid at times," Deeks smirks at her. Kensi's eyes soften at this. That is one of the things she honestly loves about Deeks: Not only is he the person to make her smile like that, but he is the one who wants to see her smile so badly that he deliberately makes a fool of himself, just catch a glimpse of that smile he says he loves about her just as much as she loves his. He says it's like sunshine. It always brightens up his day.

Deeks smiles at her, relieved to finally see her smiling honestly again, but then whips his head around nervously. "Wait, do you have my violin?"

"Yeah, it's in the trunk, and before you ask, I made sure that it can't roll around," Kensi rolls her eyes. Deeks grew quite obsessive over this instrument in her opinion. He always insisted to take the violin, told her more than once not to touch it and made sure thrice that it was secured in the trunk, if he didn't hold on to it for the duration of the ride anyways.

"Hey, don't blame me. Hetty gave me this expensive instrument. If I break this, I will have to sell my apartment... for the first installment," Deeks argues vehemently.

"True," she shrugs.

"And I like my apartment," he grumbles. Kensi snorts, before both settle in a comfortable silence.

They soon find themselves back in the orchestra.

"So... you keep in mind what the doctor told you. Or else... not looking good for you," she tells him.

"I'll keep that in mind," he smirks before both head their ways. Deeks waits in front of the entrance a few seconds, sucking in a few breaths of air. He takes in the familiar scent, the familiar sounds of instruments being pushed and carried around, the impact of the steps causing the strings and keys to make the smallest of sounds, an echo of what beautiful melodies are hidden within each instrument. Chatting. People laughing. Bustle. Deeks takes a moment to take in that feeling before he steps inside as Julian Ambrose. He looks around curiously, but is soon approached by Katy, "Julian! Hey!"

"Hey, Kitty," he waves at the young brunette.

"Is good to see you. Mr. Smith said that you were sick?" she asks worriedly.

"Yeah, nasty stomach bug," he nods.

"Oh, poor you. And that so close before the concert," she grimaces sympathetically. "You're really unlucky."

"Well, now I'm back to the game," he winks at her. "I'm a fighter."

"Yeah, I bet Adrian eats his heart out over that one," she snorts. Deeks nudges her in the shoulder, "My, my, for someone who doesn't even have to compete with him, you're really bitchy."

"I make no secret that I don't like him. He makes no secret that he hates me. We found a common ground... in not having any common ground," she shrugs.

"Little devil," he snickers.

"Well, I'm just glad to have you back here," Katy tells him, offering a sweet smile.

"And I'm glad to be back," he winks at her before the two make their way to the rest of the ensemble. Soon Mr. Smith enters. He assembles all members with a simple gesture of the hands. Deeks can't hide the smirk at just how well the ensemble, him included, is trained to follow every gesture that man makes, like dogs.

"Good morning, everyone," he greets them. "Ah, Mr. Ambrose, you're back."

"Yes," Deeks nods hastily, flashing an insecure smile, for the show.

"That's good. I already feared that you wouldn't be able to make it," Smith nods.

"I'm back and ready to work," he assures him.

"Very well," Mr. Smith nods, before he turns back to the rest of the group. "Alright, everyone, I have some announcements to make. First of all, the news reached me that our saxophonist Ms. Gray earned herself an internship at a very prestigious ensemble in London."

The rest of the group applauds.

"She's leaving this summer. So congratulations, Ms. Gray," the conductor carries on. Katy nods happily.

"Furthermore, even with Mr. Ambrose's absence yesterday, he will be our first violin in the upcoming concert, which is now ever so important because some scouts and famous critics will be there. Everyone is expected to give his or her best. This concert is perhaps the most important performance so far," he goes on to explain.

"Yes," all declare in unison. After that practice goes its usual course, except that Deeks is fighting any urge not to just throw up on Mr. Smith's shoes. The ride to the orchestra was okay, but now he feels the tension within him again – the tension of having to play in front of people, and then Mr. Smith, of course, had to raise the bet by giving that prep-talk, and mention the scouts and experts who will dissect his play, if it ever comes to that. If Deeks didn't feel pressured until now, he surely does at this moment. Because he feels pressured from any side he turns to. Kensi pressures him to quit the cover, as both his partner and his girlfriend. The rest of the team pressures him to also quit because they don't think it's getting them anywhere. Hetty pressures him by pointing out that if he doesn't get this done, she will call it off. Smith pressures him by raising expectations. He feels pressured to believe that Adrian is the culprit after all, and pressured not to lose himself in Sarabande... it's just that everywhere he turns, Deeks is met by a wall that's coming closer with every second passing.

However, this pressure, for some reason, leaves Deeks once he plays the first tunes of his solo, mystically dissolves from his body like thin smoke. He doesn't hear Sarabande, at all. Deeks hears himself play, not some faint echo of the former days. He doesn't think anything, just feels, feels the familiar pull on his fingertips, the friction, hears the sound of something so strangely familiar that it leaves him in a blissful state of in-betweeness, allows his ears to hear the code he almost forgot about.

Meanwhile, Kensi made her way to Mr. Smith's office. She has the comm in her ear to communicate with the rest of the guys.

"Eric? What about the video surveillance?" Kensi asks.

"We're sending a disturb signal. You're good to go," Eric tells her.

"Okay, it's empty," Kensi mutters, looking around. "I'm going in."

She starts to work on the lock, her long fingers swiftly dancing over the metal. Soon, the familiar click-sound rings out. The female agent looks around one more time before she steals inside Mr. Smith's office, closing the door as silently as she can.

"Alright, I'm in," Kensi whispers as she scans her surroundings. In contrast to Mr. Parker's office, it's rather clinical. The walls are white, the furniture is minimalistic and mostly in black and silver. There are no pictures on the walls, only a big rectangular clock. When you look at these two offices to compare them, you see that they are the extension of those two men, the one a nostalgic man who enjoys arts and music, the other the rational person who resembles more of a businessman, someone who strives towards the future, someone who has a plan, set rules, loves structures. It's odd how much rooms tend to reflect people, in either what they are or what they want to be.

"Alright, Kensi, go to the computer," Callen tells her over the comm. The female agent quickly walks around the desk, switching on the computer. She inserts the flash drive Eric gave her.

"Okay, Eric, we need the password," Kensi tells him over the comm.

"On it, on it," the analyst replies. "Okay, we're in."

"Always forget that you're faster than internet itself," Kensi snickers as she starts to dig through the computer the way Eric instructed her to do so that he and Nell can search the system for the data they are looking for.

"Alright, we have access now," Nell tells her.

"Then let's see what we have here," Eric smirks, already digging through the data.

"Kensi, now go look for the tapes," Callen tells her. Kensi nods to herself before she starts to rummage through the drawers.

"Okay, I see no tapes here," Kensi mumbles, but then stops in the motion at the only picture in this room lying in one of the corners of the last drawer. Kensi takes the picture with a grimace. It's a small frame and washed out at the edges. It shows a much younger Smith and a woman with short hair with bangs. From the looks of it, perhaps college time, or late High School years. What disturbs her in some way is to actually see that man... smile. Smith smiling is probably as rare as a four-leaf clover. Kensi shakes her head and puts the photo back in place. She is not here for that reason. Kensi thus goes on with her search for the video tapes.

"Eric, do we get anything useful?" Callen asks back at the Ops.

"We're still downloading everything. From the looks of it, it seems pretty normal, though. What he has in the folder under security is something we have to look through. It's a big folder," the analyst lets him know.

"Kensi, any luck on the tapes?" Sam asks.

"I'm still looking," Kensi whispers, her eyes scanning for the tapes. She spots a smaller cabinet.

"Alright, that one's locked. Give me a moment," Kensi mutters. Gladly, it's a simple lock. She opens it after a few twists and turns of her equipment, though the female agent can't hide the disappointment at the sight of files, and no tapes at all.

"Okay, I don't think they're in the office," Kensi grumbles.

"Alright, then make sure that everything is back in place and then leave," Callen instructs her.

"Yeah," Kensi sighs before she goes ahead to close the cabinet and lock it again. She wants to retrieve the flash drive as suddenly she can see shadows through the small frame of frosted glass of the door. She crouches down behind the desk.

"Shoot, we got company," Kensi whispers. As it turns out, it's Mr. Parker along with another member of the committee.

"Kensi?" Callen asks nervously.

"... Well, I'll see you later then. I just have to get the papers from his office. He asked me this morning. You know how busy he is short before the concert," Mr. Parker tells the other man. Kensi gapes, already searching for a place to hide. Damn the minimalistic furniture. There is nothing good to hide behind. Through the window is no option either, it's too high for a jump, and nothing to stand on.

"We have to get her out of this somehow, or else we run severe trouble," Callen grimaces. "Can we set off the alarm or so?"

"Not from here," Eric shrugs. That is when Hetty takes out her phone, dials and holds the device to her ear.

Kensi eyes the door nervously as Parker's shadow approaches as the other man walks off. Parker takes out the keys, searching for the right one. However, that is when suddenly his cellphone beeps, playing Beethoven's 9th symphony. Kensi holds her breath as he takes up the phone, still fumbling with the keys.

"Hello?" his voice rings through the door.

"Ah, Mr. Parker, I'm so glad that you picked up," Hetty tells him over the phone in a cheery voice.

"Always for you, Ms. Lange," he smirks. "What can I do for you?"

"I have to ask you for a small favor, my friend. I just realized that I lost my brooch, an heirloom of my great-great aunt."

"Oh, that's a pity," the man sighs sympathetically.

"Well, as far as I remember, I wore it when we had tea at your office yesterday. So I would kindly ask you to see if I lost it there," Hetty goes on.

"Oh, yes, of course. I will go there straight away," Parker tells her almost gleefully.

"I thank you so much," Hetty smirks.

"It's a pleasure. I will call you back soon," Parker tells her.

"Thank you," Hetty smiles. Parker walks out of sight. Kensi lets a sigh of relief.

"Alright, get out of there now. We don't want another person to walk in on you," Callen exhales, running a hand over his face. Even if this was definitely no life-or-death situation, it still might have corrupted their plan. If Parker realized that Kensi was not what she seems to be, this might fall back on Deeks. And they need Deeks to work the cover.

Kensi sneaks outside meanwhile, quickly makes her way outside and locks the door before she leaves the hallway, "Okay, I'm out. We're good to go again."

"Alright, good work," Callen tells her, but then turns to Hetty. "And of course we have to thank you for getting our heads out of the sling."

Hetty grins at him.

"Though I have to say it's kind of mean... Parker really seems to have a crush on you," Callen grins.

"I think it's more than a crush," Sam smirks.

"We are old friends," Hetty shrugs.

"Right, old friends," Callen snickers. Sam smirks also.

"Mr. Callen, you're walking on thin ice," she threatens him, though Hetty's voice is perfectly calm.

"I'm just saying," G snickers.

"And I'm just saying as your boss," Hetty smirks at him. Callen means to say something, but he is only rewarded by another glare of Hetty's. So he swallows down the comment, coughs lightly and then turns to the analysts, "Okay, Eric, Nell, see what you find in the files we have. We need some results."

The two make a mock-salute, though their eyes are perfectly fixed on the screens.

"Kensi? You simply look around some more. We will let you know as soon as we have new information," he goes on.

"Alright," she nods.

"And we will do some more good old investigative work and see what else we can get on Carson and Smith," Callen shrugs, turning to his partner. Sam nods his approval. The two leave the Ops. Hetty walks after them, but goes the other direction as suddenly her phone beeps, "Mr. Parker! That was fast...!"

Later the day, the ensemble finally gets to have a break. Deeks uses the opportunity to check on Kensi, who is already waiting for him outside the room.

"Hey, did everything go alright?" he asks in a hushed voice as both walk down the hallways to have a little privacy.

"Parker almost walked in on me, but Hetty used her charm to get him away from the door so I could get back out," she smirks.

"That Lady's got it," Deeks shrugs. "So did you find anything interesting yet?"

"Eric and Nell are still going through the data, but that will take some more time," Kensi tells him.

"And the tapes?" Deeks questions.

"Weren't in the office," Kensi shrugs.

"Pity," he sighs, but then smirks at her. "Though I'm glad it went smoothly."

"And went it smoothly for you also?" Kensi asks, now rather worriedly.

"I'm fine, Fern," Deeks assures her.

"I've heard that sentence too often lately. It starts to wear off," she snorts.

"I'm okay. I have my pills, in case something happens, so... well, I know you worry, so I won't say 'don't worry', but... you can be less worried," Deeks tells her. Kensi rolls her eyes, though they are soft from care.

"Alright," she sighs. "I leave you to your business, then. I will look around some more."

"Okay, catch you later," Deeks nods.

"See you," she waves before she walks off again. Deeks makes his way back to the room they use for practice. He looks around for Adrian, but can't spot him. Deeks notes with a mixture of worry and confusion that the second violinist is very much aloof today. When Smith called out the break, Adrian instantly took off, even though Deeks called out to him. And now he doesn't even seem to be in the room. If only that guy knew what picture he thus delivers... or maybe he does? Deeks shakes his head and therefore decides to go to the group. Maybe they have some more information he can use somehow.

"Hey, where have you been?" Judy greets him, sitting cross-legged on the ground, sipping some cranberry juice.

"Took a leak, perhaps?" he makes a mocking face as he settles down, holding back the grunt that bubbles up in his throat. His stomach is still eagerly trying to do backflips, not to mention how dizzy he feels – but no word to Kensi or any of the guys, that much is for sure.

"Anyways, Kitty Kat, I didn't get to congratulate you properly," Deeks goes on, turning to the brunette. "And you didn't tell me before, I feel offended!"

"I got the info only yesterday," she shrugs. "And I didn't know you'd come today, so when you did, I was totally surprised and happy to see you that I forgot."

"Aww, cute," Deeks mocks her.

"Oh, whatever, Julian," she grunts dismissively, but then cracks a smile. "Anyways, I'm really excited."

"I picture. I can only recommend it, go out into the world, that's where music is at home," Deeks winks at her.

"Oh, that sounded poetic," Tom huffs.

"I was just trying to make a point. This is a great opportunity for her," Deeks argues. "Going abroad is one of the things to push you in your musical talent and your career, that's all I'm saying."

"I can't tell, I've never left US grounds, not even for holidays," Tom shrugs. "The one time I actually had a placement for another orchestra was when I landed here. I used to live in in Oregon, but didn't have many chances there, so I went to an audition here, but that was all."

"Same for me. I mean, I moved around a bit more, to get better placements, but other than that... other countries were no option to me, or rather... I never had the option to go there," Jimmy shrugs.

"Well, I traveled around when I was still a teenager, but I didn't exactly do what I should have done. I rather partied, I have to admit," Carter shrugs his shoulders. "I know better now, but now it seems impossible because I have a kid. So I'm actually fine with the steady placement."

"Oh, I didn't know you had a child," Deeks blinks at him. Carter is about the same age the rest is, and they are rather young after all.

"Well, her mother and I had her short time after High School, actually. We didn't plan on a child, but you know how it is, once they are there, you can't imagine how it was ever without," Carter tells him.

"I bet," Deeks nods. "And what about you, Susanne? Plan to go abroad some time soon?"

"Not really. I like it here," she tells him in her typically mute voice.

"So you never had the urge to go elsewhere, or did you go some other place?" Deeks asks, faking curiosity.

"No. I lived here for all my life and went to different orchestras around the city," Susanne replies almost sheepishly.

"Well, and we'll be stuck here till the end of our days," Jimmy exhales.

"Oh, but at least you have Judy to share your destiny with," Carter snorts sarcastically.

"Och, please, not that again," Judy rolls her eyes.

"Jimmy's made a case in point, though. We'll just rot here," Tom argues. "So you do best dropping us, Katy. If one of us gets out of this place, only the better."

"But it's not like I'll be gone forever. It's just for a few months," Katy argues, now suddenly sadly.

"That's what you're saying now, but little time from now, you'll totally forget about us and live a dream," Carter snickers.

"What?! No, I'd never!" she cries out.

"Yeah, you'll enjoy life in London, take on this funny accent, drink tea and fulfill any cliché we have about the British," Jimmy chuckles.

"And then she finds herself a fine English gentleman and they make lots of babies," Carter goes on.

"And she'll be totally famous – and we'll stare at her only once we see huge posters for her advertisement as she takes over the music world," Tom nods, gesturing wildly.

"You know that you guys are my best friends and I wouldn't ever leave you just like that," Katy argues vehemently.

"Katy, we're just making fun of you," Carter assures her.

"But I'm not. You guys are like family to me. It's just that this is such a great opportunity and...," she bites her lower lip, her voice almost tear-stricken. Judy slides over to her to clap her on the back affectionately, "Now, now. You shouldn't get upset. This is a day you should celebrate. You know that we're just all being a bit... cynical."

"Right, you don't get to shed tears over this. Not if you're the one who gets the chance, alright?" Tom adds quickly. Katy looks up, wiping a few tears away with an unsure smile, "Sorry, it's just... it's breaking my heart to leave you guys."

"What do you have internet for, huh?" Jimmy shrugs. Carter cocks an eyebrow at him, so Jimmy adds with a blush, "I was merely talking about chatting or Skype. Nothing that you're having in mind, you perv."

They start to rant after that in their usual routine. Deeks leans back and only listens halfway. Maybe it's just his stomach still trying a flic-flac, but he has a very uneasy feeling about this, about everything. It should be that simple – because it's civilians they are talking about. Those guys are no terrorists or human traffickers. They are normal people who worry about placements and upcoming concerts – and one of them managed to plot against a Marine and murder him. Why isn't it simple, though? If only Deeks could put his finger on it.

Soon practice starts again and Deeks is back to being Julian as he starts to play, his eyes uncertainly wandering between Adrian and the rest of the group when no one is watching. If only he knew what is really going on here. If only he knew whom to trust. If only knew the code...

Deeks does his best to focus on his play for the moment, though. Even if he is a detective, he has to play Julian Ambrose now. And Julian can't give halfhearted performances that close to the concert. However, he finds it increasingly difficult to stay in-tune, especially once Smith starts to make him play his solo more often. At some point Deeks completely blocks out what the man is telling him, his fingers simply move, his arms obey, his ears just hear music and nothing but music, a rush of colors and tones thrown together in an obscure mess Deeks fails to make sense of. He can't hear the codes anymore. Everything is just a blur. Yet, he is pulled out of this rush as the last tune is played and Smith declares they will take another short break. Deeks closes his eyes for a moment, feeling dizzy. Only now he realizes how the rush in his ears is his heartbeat hammering against his eardrums. The detective breathes hard against the white dots dancing in front of his eyes. He has to get out of here, has to catch his breath. Has to breathe.

Deeks hurries outside and over to the restrooms. He shuts the door with a thud and stumbles over to the row of sinks, gripping the cold porcelain so tightly that his knuckles turn white. He can see the heart rate monitor flashing furiously, though this doesn't come to him as a surprise. He can hear his heartbeat in his ears, like drums, like fanfare actually. The heartbeat seems to be so strong that his entire body vibrates to its rhythm, blurring his vision as though riding down a very bumpy road. At this point hospital doesn't sound too much like an awful place after all.

The detective closes his eyes, Sarabande faintly humming in his ears, above the heartbeat, above everything once again.

"Fuck," he curses under his breath, trying to count to ten, and not according to Sarabande, though his mind is seemingly magically following the rhythm, the tact. Deeks hastily grabs into his pocket to retrieve the small container of pills Dr. Malik prescribed him in case of emergency. He takes one out, almost losing it in the drain, but manages to get it into his mouth and swallows it dry before he goes on to turn on the faucet and splash some of the cooling liquid against his flushed skin, hoping that this will do the trick. Deeks lets out a shaky breath, closing his eyes, trying to detect the effect he hopes for, and actually the fanfare soon hum in a weaker voice.

However, that is when the door swings open. Deeks whips his head around to meet Adrian's eyes. The man frowns at him with a hint of worry in his features as he takes in the situation.

"Are... are you okay?" he asks hesitantly.

"W, what? Yeah, I just... I just needed some water in the face. Refreshing," Deeks manages a weary smirk. Adrian steps over to the sink next to him.

"No, I mean if you're alright," Adrian insists. "Your play was way faster than normal – and the way you took off, I thought you were running from a bunch of gangsters."

"My heart's still giving me race, I guess," Deeks shrugs.

"Race for what?" the younger man frowns.

"It's... well, I was sick yesterday... I'm still having the after-effects to deal with," Deeks tells him, still out of breath.

"You are like that from a stomach bug?" Adrian blinks at him incredulously. If Deeks didn't know that he might be the culprit, he would honestly start to believe that this is real and that Adrian doesn't know. However, he might be nothing more than a good liar after all. Deeks just doesn't know. He only hears Sarabande again, and it hurts his ears.

"Uh, no, I just get, uhm... it's a tiny heart condition," Deeks lies. "Sometimes my heart just wants to skip a beat, if I'm too stressed-out, I guess."

"Oh... that sucks," Adrian grimaces. "So... do you get a heart-attack now? Coz I don't know how the hell to do CPR. If you feel like you'll keel over, I should better get someone who can."

"No, no, not like that," Deeks assures him. Really, if Adrian lies to him, he is damn good.

"Good, coz I probably would've been running circles getting hysterical," Adrian snorts, looking actually relieved.

"Pity, that surely would've made my day," Deeks jokes.

"Me running circles like a hysterical fan? Yeah, I bet," Adrian huffs, but then turns more sincere a again. "But you're really okay?"

"Yeah, it's better now. I think it was just... I don't know what it was. Sometimes you just get nervous, I guess," Deeks shrugs.

"Well, bets run high now," Adrian nods, leaning with the back against the sink, hugging his arms loosely.

"Now that they made it official? Yeah, maybe that's why," Deeks smirks. "Or that bad luck's seemingly chasing after me."

"One could say so. I mean, you're here in a week... and what? Almost impaled by some falling down prop, now sick, too... It's kinda piling up," Adrian tells him, though Deeks can't detect an underlying threat or the antagonism he remembers from his first encounters with the young violinist. No, if he didn't know better, Deeks would honestly say that Adrian is simply showing concern, in his odd way.

"Not to forget to be stuck with you of all people," Deeks smirks, wiping some more water over his face. He studies Adrian from the corner of his eye, and the smile seems genuine when he replies, "Well, if we think about it like that, then I'm the one who's been sold a pup. Stuck as second violin against someone who's maybe halfway as good. I have to work overtime coz I can't say no to Smith. Everyone hates me about as much as I hate them... and I'm stuck with you, too."

"So you compare that... to almost getting killed by props which learned how to fly?" Deeks cries out mockingly.

"Well, you could've left if it was that much of a strain on you," Adrian shrugs, and again, without the threat Deeks actually hoped for, to set things straight, to... to make him the bad guy. Can't he just be the bad guy? That would make it so much easier. And easy would be really nice for a change.

"And you could've left the orchestra if you're really that pissed off at... everything," Deeks argues, testing the waters for a reaction he can grasp, sort out, put his finger on – and press down to keep it in place.

"Wish I could," Adrian shrugs.

"But?" Deeks frowns. This is a free country, and with his talent, Adrian would probably make it first violin in... any other orchestra but this this one. That is honestly one of the things Deeks doesn't get. Why doesn't Adrian just leave? That would make everything so, so easy.

"I just can't," Adrian exhales.

"Why?" Deeks questions.

"... it's complicated," Adrian tells him. "Perhaps it's just like this old uncle you only invite for Christmas, though everyone hates him... coz even if you hate him, he's... family, whatever."

"But you don't seem too much family-like with this bunch of people," Deeks argues.

"I don't care about those folks. I guess it's just the place that is... the uncle," Adrian tells him in a mute voice. The detective can't help the frown. Adrian licks his lips before he straightens back up, "Alright, so you're not gonna do the dying swan on me. Think you'll be fine to practice tonight, or you wanna take the evening off?"

"No, no. I need the practice. You said it, the bets run high," Deeks smirks.

"And you're sure? Coz I surely won't revive you, coz I can't?" Adrian huffs.

"I'm sure. My manager's secretary will be around – and she knows how to do CPR, just in case," Deeks smirks.

"That's good to know," the other man grins back.

"Then this is settled," Deeks nods.

"Alright. Catch you later," Adrian waves before he leaves the bathroom, his steps rather uncertain, though. Deeks glances at himself in the mirror, hoping that the reflection will somehow tell him what he is supposed to think. After all, people often told him that, a lot of times, he wears his emotions right in his face, except for the job. Perhaps Deeks can read it from his own face what his mind can't unravel? He studies his eyes for a while, but can't detect anything, probably because he doesn't know after all.

At least Sarabande left Deeks again. And his heartbeat is back to normal, as the monitor confirms. Maybe that's no success, but...

It feels better now.

His heart beats to his rhythm again.