"People notice you," Sam explained helpfully. "Because you look like a scruffy, superannuated surfer. Rather than a responsible adult."

"You stand out too," Deeks argued. "So what did you put down on your form then? Big, with a pointy, shiny head?"

"My head is not pointy. It's beautifully shaped."

"No, it's pointy." Deeks looked to Callen for confirmation. "Isn't it?"

Much as he hated to do this, Callen had to agree. "It's not quite a cone-head, but it is quite pointy. You kind of look like one of those babies that's been pulled out by that suction thingy. You know – it looks like a sink plunger?"

"It's called a ventouse." Deeks clocked the incredulous looks. "So I pick up things and retain them. You got a problem with that?"

"No more than with the rest of you and your annoying habits."

"It doesn't make me a bad person."

"It doesn't make you a good person either," Kensi observed. "Just an annoying one."

Deeks decided it was time to return to the subject in hand. "So, what exactly did you put down on your form, Sam? Come on, give me a hand here, won't you?"

"Big, with a bald, shiny, pointy head?" Callen suggested. Deeks grinned and noted those down on a PostIt note.

"I am not bald. I shave my head." There was a clear difference, and Sam felt he had to make the point. Of course, the fact was that he might very well be bald – if he had not purposefully made sure not a single hair graced his scalp. It was one thing being completely bald as a matter of choice and style, it was quite another looking like a monk, or watching your hairline retreat backwards and he determined neither of those would happen to him.

Callen eyed him speculatively. "And yet we never see any stubble or even a suspicion of five o'clock shadow. Which makes me think."

"I'm glad something does," Deeks murmured to himself.

"It makes me think too." Kensi reached out and rubbed her hand over Sam's head speculatively. "It's almost too smooth, isn't it? And you never see any razor burn or nicks, do you?" She was currently nursing a particularly painful cut on the back of her left ankle, which had bled like blazes. And yet Sam had yet to appear with small patches of toilet tissue adorning his head, which was very, very suspicious. Not to mention too good to be true.

"I use an electric razor and shaving foam. I take pride in my appearance." Sam gave Deeks a pointed look as he said this. Sadly, as Deeks bent over his laptop at the time, so this literally went over his head

Kensi shook her head. "No, I don't think you do. It's too good a job." She thought about it for a moment. "You use a depilatory cream, don't you? You big girl's blouse. Go on – 'fess up. Which do you prefer – Nair or Veet?"

"Neither."

"Magic Shave," Callen said reflectively. "That's what he uses. I saw some in his bathroom."

"I have very delicate skin," Sam said defensively. "And it was right at the back of my bathroom cabinet. Well above your eye level."

"It must have got moved to the front. And I'm not that short."

"Yes you are. That's what's on his form, Deeks – short. And nosey. Add those to your list."

"Hetty's short – I'm taller than Hetty."

"Everyone's taller than Hetty. Even Nell's taller than Hetty," Kensi informed him.

It might be grasping at straws, but Callen simply had to say it. "I'm taller than Nell too."

There was no longer enough room on the PostIt Note, so Deeks had started to compile a spreadsheet containing all the relevant information, complete with a column for each team member. He amended the entry under Callen's name to 'quite short' and then added 'no first name' for good measure.

"That's really not saying much, Callen - but if it's the best you can come up with, I suppose it will have to do." He stared at the screen for a few seconds and then added 'incipient bald spot', much to Kensi's amusement. Under Nell and Hetty's names he wrote 'short' and 'very short' respectively and Kensi thought she might just have a little accident.

"What about me?" she asked curiously, seeing the colimn under her name was still blank

"What about you?" Deeks leant back in his chair and grinned up at her. "I know what you want me to write."

"You don't know anything."

"Have it your own way." He drew an elaborate question mark on a piece of paper and then with a few strokes turned it into a cat looking over its shoulder. A few seconds later, the phrase 'hot or not? That is the question' appeared onscreen.

"It is not." Kensi smacked him across the back of the head. "And can I help it if you think I'm hot?"

"Did I say I thought you were hot? I don't think so. In fact, I know so. You think you're hot – there's a difference. A world of difference. Maybe we should vote on it?"

There were times when Kensi really wondered what she had done to deserve Deeks. "You are not going to vote on whether I'm hot."

"No, we're not," he agreed. "We're going to vote on whether you think you're hot. And I vote 'yes'. Sam?"

"Make that 'yes' for me too"

"Make that unanimous. But I think we should even things up a bit." Well, Callen reasoned, it was his responsibility as team leader to make sure things were fair and equitable. "So, let's see who else thinks that Kensi thinks Deeks is hot?"