A/N: Enjoy the next installment!

Callen's eyes narrowed against the unforgiving LA sun. The coordinates Eric had sent Sam lead them to a café downtown. Both partners were discreetly scanning the perimeter, looking for signs that this could be a trap.

"Its all clear," Sam stated, glancing at Callen. "You okay?"

The weight of the question took Callen by surprise. It had been a long time since someone had actually given a shit about him and so, his partner's concern had always felt unfamiliar. "Yeah, I'm good. Let's find this guy." The partners turned on their in-ear coms and walked into the café, doing their best to remain as casual as possible.

While Sam pretended to observe the numerous cakes and pastry on display, Callen whispered a quick command, "Eric, call the phone." The shrill ringing of a cell phone broke through the calm atmosphere of the café. Both Sam and Callen's heads snapped towards the table in the far corner, where the ringing was originating. Seated at the table was a small tanned woman, only about 5 feet tall. She was dressed in casual yet ethnic Afghani clothing, a salwar and a loose shirt, her hair tightly would in a thick braid that rested on her back. Her ears adorned gold hoops and her wrists were hidden under several bangles. Her face was twisted in a confused expression as she observed the phone in front of her.

Sam exchanged an incredulous look with Callen that said, 'She's our killer?'

Sam jerked his head towards her and Callen nodded, both approaching her slowly. The woman's attention shifted from the phone to the two men making their way towards her. Panic filled her entire being and Callen saw it fill her face. Before either he or Sam could say anything, she stood sharply and turned on her heel, dashing towards the back entrance of the café. The partners ran after her.

"Federal Agents, stop!" Of course she ignored Sam's cry picking up speed as she waded through the crowd on the busy LA street.

"Why do they always have to run?" Sam panted angrily as they began to gain on the small woman.

"Maybe your hulking figure scares 'em off," Callen commented distractedly, his eyes trained on the shimmering gold of the suspect's jewelry. Seeing her turn the corner, he saw an opportunity to catch up with her. He shifted his weight, banking to his left behind the last building on the street. "I'll cut her off!" he informed his partner, who grunted in response, continuing after the woman and taking the same turn she took.

Callen sprinted up the alley on the other side of the building and as he approached the mouth of the alley, he watched her dash in front of him. With one sharp breath, Callen pushed himself forward, his hand closing around her ankle. She let out a yell as she felt the tug on her foot and found herself falling face first towards the ground. Callen scrambled to his feet, hearing Sam come up behind them.

"What part of Federal Agents do you not understand?" Callen asked he pulled her up roughly, trapping her arms behind her back.

"I don't think she speaks English, G," Sam said.

She glared at Sam who was now standing in front of her. Her eyes narrowed slightly and then suddenly she sharply yanked one of her arms from Callen's grasp, digging her elbow hard into his gut. Callen let out a gasp as the elbow connected with a rib, a distinct crack audible. He fell backwards clutching his torso, watching in amazement as the woman struggled against Sam arms that were attempting to subdue her. She hooked a foot, clad in a delicate silver sandal, behind one of Sam's pulled roughly causing the tall agent to lose his footing. Quickly, before he could recover she delivered a blow to his abdomen. He was heading towards the ground but, despite her unexpected strength, Sam's muscular arms were no match for her tiny frame. They stayed firmly wrapped around her, as they both topple towards the ground.

"Nice try, but you're not going anywhere. You good G?"

Callen winced as he stood, a sharp pain lancing up his side. He swore as he pressed his fingertips against his bruised ribs. "I think she cracked one,"

Sam chuckled, "Feisty aren't ya?" She was still struggling against him, snarling quietly. This time he tried in Pashto, "Calm down, I'm not going to hurt you."

She looked up at him, her face suddenly somber, and said with an unmistakable Middle Eastern accent, "I speak English." Both Callen and Sam reeled back at the sound of her voice. It was low, strong and commanding, yet feminine and oddly soft despite the situation. The partners exchanged glances both thinking exactly the same thing: Who was this woman? And how was she connected to the dead men?

The boatshed was eerily quiet with the exception of the rustling plastic of Callen's icepack. Sam was seated at the table in the middle, both men watching the woman on the screen who was sitting at the edge of the chair in the interrogation room. She was fidgeting with her bangles, her body language tense. They were waiting for Kensi and Deeks to return from the crime scene before beginning the questioning, giving Callen time to ice his cracked rib.

Kensi and Deeks walked in not two minutes later laughing, no doubt at a stupid joke Deeks had just told. Their expressions sobered when they noticed the serious faces of the senior agents. Callen had his shirt pulled up on the injured side revealing scarred skin, an ice pack pressed firmly to his ribcage.

"What happened?" Kensi inquired cautiously taking in Callen's injury and Sam's creased, dirt covered shirt.

"Burner phone lead to this woman. She put up a hell of a fight," Callen responded, grimacing as he readjusted the ice pack. Kensi and Deeks turned their attention away from their colleagues to observe the small woman on the screen.

Kensi snorted. "She's like half your size."

"No kidding, but evidently she's not to be underestimated. She speaks English but won't talk," Sam replied.

"Eric got a hit off of facial recognition though, her name is Aadila Hassan," Callen added.

"Maybe she'll talk to us, let's go Deeks." But her partner did not respond or move.

Deeks felt like his entire body was numb. He couldn't hear his colleagues' voices or the sound of the water that usually resonated through the boatshed. He couldn't see anything but her. He was completely aware that his jaw had gone slack and his mouth was most likely hanging open. She looked very different from the last time he had seen her. It had been almost two years since he had received the notification and yet here she was, in one piece.

"Deeks I know she's pretty but there's no need to gawk," Kensi scoffed.

But Deeks didn't respond, in fact, he barely heard Kensi. He was too busy struggling against the multitude of emotions that were currently flooding his body. He was sad, relieved, disappointed and finally incredibly angry. Deeks snapped up his gapping jaw and his brow furrowed, his breath labored.

"Deeks what is it?" Sam asked urgently, realizing that the detective's reaction was not a result of the woman's beauty.

"Do you know her?" Kensi asked quietly.

"I-she-but she's-I thought-" Deeks couldn't form a comprehensive sentence. Without warning, he turned sharply, taking long quick strides up the hallway and pushing the door to the interrogation room open harshly. The metal of the door clanged as it hit the back wall. Kensi, Sam and Callen hastily turned their heads back to the screen and readied themselves to intervene. They watched in horror and shock as their usually goofy and easy-tempered liaison strode forward, a look of deep distaste filling his face. The small woman jumped out of her seat hurriedly, a similar horrified expression making its way onto her exotic features.

"Marty?" Her voice was so quiet the team barely heard it. There was a moment of silence that spread thickly through the boatshed before Deeks took one last firm step forward, drawing his fist back and promptly driving it through her nose.

A/N: Thanks for the reviews for the first chapter! I look forward to more :)