It was a little crowded with all four of them riding in Callen's car but they made it back to the OSP building in good time.

Kensi seemed to be hoping to avoid Hetty; she went straight to her desk.

Deeks had just settled into his chair when Nate appeared.

"Would you be interested in trying something to help you remember what happened at Café Bel Flur?" the psychologist asked the detective.

"I tried this with Kensi and all I got out of it was a headache and some guys jumping us."

"I promise no one is going to attack you," Nate reassured him, "we aren't going anywhere but my office."

Marty followed Nate to one of the offices in the back.

Deeks cocked his head and looked suspiciously at the taller man, "I'm not gonna have to lie on the couch am I?"

"Only if you want to. Sit or lay wherever you would like, just make yourself comfortable."

"Yeah, right." Deeks sprawled in the wicker plantation chair, arms crossed on his chest and his chin tucked down.

Nate quirked his lips, Marty never seemed completely at ease talking to him. He got the feeling that the detective knew nearly as much about psychology as he did, his emotional cues were sometimes almost too obvious.

"Take a deep breath in and hold it." Nate said.

Deeks inhaled, held his breath for a moment and let it out.

"Again, but let it out slower this time and close your eyes."

Deeks did as he was told and his shoulders lowered as he visibly relaxed.

Nate sat back in his chair, "Next Tuesday, a week from today, you are going to get out of bed and fix yourself anything you want for breakfast. What are you going to have?"

"Next Tuesday?" Deeks open one eye and looked quizzically at Nate.

"Next Tuesday, anything you want, don't think about it just say it."

"Pancakes. Blueberry pancakes, homemade with fresh blueberries."

"Now tell me how you make them, step by step."

"How is cooking class going to help?" Deeks grumbled.

"Trust me. Close your eyes." Nate smiled. "Just tell me how you make pancakes."

"Al right. I have a big glass measuring cup; I measure the flour, baking powder and a little salt and sugar in it. I add two eggs and some milk and mix it up smooth and just a little thick. I set it aside while I wash the blueberries with ice water. I lightly grease the griddle with a little olive oil and while it's heating I fold the blueberries into the batter. You can't stir it too hard 'cause it crushes the berries and they taste better when they aren't bruised. When the griddle is hot I pour the batter onto it slowly."

"And then?"

"I grill it until it starts to bubble then I flip it over and cook it until it's lightly crisp. I put it on a plate add a little butter and cook more pancakes until all the batter is gone. Each pancake gets a little butter but no syrup yet. I put the measuring cup in the sink and add water to it so it can soak while I eat. I pour myself a glass of milk. Then I pour the cold maple syrup on the pancakes, they are still warm and the syrup is thick."

"What do they taste like?"

Deeks shook his head with a smile, eyes still closed. "Like fresh blueberry pancakes?"

"After breakfast you're going to get in your car and drive. You drive north from your apartment; turn on Sepulveda and then turn west on Santa Monica Boulevard." Nate spoke softly but clearly. "You're just driving and looking at all the people walking around. Looking at all the tourists with their camera and ugly shorts and plastic sandals."

The psychologist continued to speak in a rhythmic tone. "You stop at Century City, find a good place to park and then walk to the plaza. There's a bench under a tree and you sit there for a while, watching all the beautiful women with their shopping bags, heading home or back to work at the studio a couple of blocks down. Do you see the women?"

Deeks smiled, eyes still closed, "I see them. Sexy, gorgeous a lot better looking than the ones on the boulevard."

"It's getting almost lunch time. You get out your cell phone and you call Kensi. You ask her to meet you at the corner of Robertson and Wilshire."

"Okay." Deeks sounded slightly drowsy.

Nate's voice was smooth, calming. "The traffic is getting heavy so you take Pico up to Doheny. You park up by the Beverly Hills Playhouse and walk to Wilshire. There's a bistro there. You sit at a table outside and order a Mills Iced Tea."

"Mills Iced Tea, hold the vodka, splash of grenadine."

"The waitress delivers it to your table and you tip her $20. You sip your tea and you see a blond-haired man heading for the trees. Then what do you do?"

Marty let out a slow breath, "He's acting weird and there's a guy following him, real obvious about it, like he wants to the other guy to know that he's there, wants him to be scared."

"What do you do?" Nate asked softly.

"I look around; no one else seems to have noticed. Kensi isn't here yet. I figure I have time to put the brakes on a mugging before she arrives so I get up and follow them."

"You get to the trees, what are the men doing?"

"The blond one rushes at me, shoves me and tells me to get out. He … he…" Marty frowned, eyes still closed and he plucked at his shirt collar. "There's something in his hand and he drops it down my shirt."

Nate raised an eyebrow, "What is it?"

"I don't know. I don't have time to get it before someone grabs me from behind."

"What happened next?"

"More guys show up, just out of nowhere. They're fighting… he's fighting them trying to keep them from getting … something … in his hand and he's … shouting at me to run."

"Do you run?"

"I can't. I try but the guy is taller than me, I can't get a hold of him. He's choking me… I claw and kick and I can't get away."

"Then what happens?"

Marty gasped, his hands fluttering across his neck and chest, "I can't remember!"

"Relax," Nate said calmly, "take a deep breath and let it out slowly."

Deeks is still panicky, "I can't feel my legs anymore, everything is getting dark and my hands tingle." he shuddered, "Then there's a bright flash like lighting and everything goes black."

"You're okay, just be calm," Nate reached over and grasped Marty's wrist, "Breathe, you're safe, no one is hurting you."

The detective's eyes snapped open, unfocused. "I'm good, I'm fine," he chanted, shaking free of the physiologist's grip. "I'm good."

"Where are you?" Nate asked.

Deeks gave him a dirty look, "Trapped in a small room with a guy asking me crazy questions?"

Nate smiled, "True. Now can you remember what the men you were following looked like?"

Deeks looked surprised for a moment, "One of them was the guy Kensi showed me a picture of, Lansing. How did you do that?"

Nate shook his head, "I didn't do anything, you did it."

"The other guy, he's got short, dark hair and a scar on his chin."

"Excellent, do you think you could get with Eric and get a composite of this other man?"

Deeks got up, grinning, "Absolutely!"

XxXxX

"I didn't kill anyone!" Deeks said, relief evident in his voice. He sat at his desk, tracing designs on the tabletop with nervous fingers, "I thought it was a mugging and I tried to stop it. I didn't kill Lansing."

"What exactly happened?" Sam asked.

Deeks leaned back in his chair. "I finished my case and was driving around, saw this little café and stopped in for a bite to eat. I saw this guy following Lansing and I followed them both to the trees. Lansing ran at me and tried to get me to leave but someone grabbed me from behind. I couldn't get away. They were fighting over something; Lansing was trying to keep the other guy from getting whatever it was he had in his hand. That's all I remember until someone tried to kill me at the hospital."

"So can you identify the guys that attacked you and Lansing?"

"I only saw one of them, the guy that attacked Lansing. I never saw that guy that jumped me. I'm going to talk to Eric, see if he can do a composite of the guy who attacked Lansing."

"That's great!" said Kensi

In her usual stealthy approach, Hetty appeared in the doorway "Miss Blye, here is your new phone, identification and keys to your car." Hetty gave her a glare, "Your automobile will be ready in an hour."

"Hey, it wasn't my fault," Kensi protested, "It was …" she gave up when Hetty turned away.

Marty gave her an apologetic smile, "Sorry."

"S'okay. That reminds me, I have your wallet and stuff. They gave it to me at the hospital. It's upstairs."

"Great, I have to go upstairs anyway and have Eric do a composite of the guy I saw with Lansing."

XxXxX

The doors opened and Eric looked up from his computer and held up a finger, "Just a sec, I'm almost finished."

Kensi picked up the bag and pulled out Deeks' watch, wallet and keys and handed them to him.

Marty got a strange look on his face as he accepted them.

"What?" asked Kensi, "It's all here, I didn't keep anything, even the cash is still in your wallet." she teased.

"It's not that," Deeks stared at his watch, "I remember something from the hospital, when I woke up. Whoever was trying to suffocate me was wearing a big, clunky watch."

"Hey," said Eric, turning from his computer, "I'm done; I can help you with that composite now."

"Great." Deeks sat in a chair beside the tech, "White guy, early thirties, short dark hair, dark eyes."

Eric quirked a smile, "That's a start." His fingers flew over the keyboard. "Shape of his face?"

Deeks thought for a moment, "Kinda square, but long. Square chin with a crescent shaped scar here." he traced a spot on his own chin, "about two inches long. Thin lips."

"Skin tone?" Eric asked.

"Medium, like he's spent some time outside but not a lot."

"Nose?"

Marty closed his eyes, "Long, thin and straight, small nostrils."

"What about his eyes?"

"Kinda wide, deep set. He had bags under his eyes, puffy like he hadn't been sleeping much."

The keyboard clicked as Eric entered the information and a face took shape on the screen.

"How's this?" the tech asked.

Deeks nodded, "Close, but make the eyes a little bigger and the eyebrows a little thicker."

Eric made the changes.

Deeks continued, "His hair is kind of thin on the top, thicker on the sides but still short."

The image changed.

"That's him, that's the guy who was following Lansing."

"Do you remember anything about the other guys? How many of them?"

"They were white, at least two more besides the one I followed and the one who had a hold of me."

"That makes four." Kensi studied the picture on the screen. "What about the guy who attacked you?"

"I never saw him." Marty reiterated, "He was behind me and I couldn't get a look at him."

"Did you hurt him; injure him in any way that could help us identify him?"

"It's been three weeks, I'm sure that any scratches or bruises I managed to give him have healed already." Deeks said in an aggravated tone.

"Did you her any of them speak, notice any accents?"

Deeks rubbed at his head, "I don't know, I don't think so."

"What were they wearing? Expensive clothes, jeans and tees? What?"

"I don't know Kensi! I can't remember!" he got to his feet, stumbled toward the door and she put out a hand to stop him.

"Are you alright?" Kensi asked, "Should I call Dr. Lassiter?"

"I'm good."

She raised her eyebrows and he rolled his eyes at her.

"I'm okay, Kensi, really." Deeks insisted, "You can't tell me that being tasered and groped didn't give you the tiniest bit of a headache."

"Dr. Lassiter said to make you take a nap if you got tired."

"I'm not tired, I just have a headache." he protested.

She glared.

"I promise I will call him myself if a couple of aspirin don't help." Deeks headed back downstairs to get something to drink.

Sam met up with Kensi on the stairs; he stepped in front of her, blocking her from following her partner.

"You push a little too hard sometimes Kensi."

"I get the job done." she growled, "Sometime that means I have to push."

"You mind trading partners for a little while?" asked Sam.

Kensi gave him a suspicious glare, "I thought you hated working with Deeks."

"I don't hate working with Deeks, there's just a limit to how much I can listen to him."

Kensi shrugged, "Okay, but only if you promise to keep an eye on him."

Sam cocked his head at her, "You think I wouldn't take care of our boy?"

Kensi pursed her lips, and then smiled, "No, no I think you'll take good care of him."

"Thanks. Try not to get too attached to working with G, he's mine." Sam joked as he turned to go back downstairs. "Let him drive you the meeting with Dwight Salas, he's in a mood."

Kensi grinned, "So that's why you wanted to trade partners! I hope Deeks gives you a hard time."

XxXxX

"Yo, Deeks," said Sam, eyeing the younger man. "We've got some phone leads that need chasing. You up for that?"

"Yup," Deeks said, popping a couple of aspirin in his mouth and taking a drink.

Sam looked him over critically, decided that the detective was indeed in good enough shape to help and handed him a sheaf of papers. "This is a list of all the contacts in Eddie Tyler's phone. Call them and find out what he'd been up to lately."

It was grunt work and they both knew it but Marty was happy to have something to do. He accepted the pages with a grin, "Sure." He sat at his desk and picked up the phone and dialed the first number on the list.

"McNeil Everett?" Marty asked.

The line crackled and popped, "Where are you? Did you get it?" the man hissed.

"Salas? Damn it, this connection is shit! I'll call you back."

Marty held the phone out, staring at it like he'd picked up a poisonous snake.

Sam glanced at the detective, "Deeks? Something wrong?"

The younger man turned toward Sam, "I…"

Deeks dropped the phone; the clatter as it hit the desk was loud in the nearly empty room.

ZZzzzzzzz…

Still a tad frustrated with this. But thanks to some wonderful encouragement from KasajishiFutaicho, jailey, whatisNOTmyname and BlueEyes44 you're getting more!

Everyone should give a big hand to amblue36, she has been my inspiration for keeping this going! I don't know what I would do without her!