Deeks was pale, breathless like he'd just run a marathon.

"Deeks, you okay?" Sam asked.

Marty compressed his lips, took a deep breath and held it, "Yeah, I'm good." he breathed.

Sam shook his head, "Don't lie to me, I know your tell. What's going on?"

Marty put his hands on the desk palms down, fingers spread like he was trying to keep from floating away. "Just a little spooked, I guess."

"What happened?" asked Sam.

"The guy on the phone, when he spoke… I could hear the guy at the hospital that tried to kill me."

Sam leaned forward, "Was it the same guy?"

"I don't think so." Marty put his hands over his face, "maybe it was, I don't know."

"Hey, you were under a lot of stress. Don't beat yourself up over something you can't help."

"You believe me?" Deeks put his hands flat on the desk again, "You believe someone attacked me?"

"I believe you believe someone attacked you. I'd rather believe you were attacked and find out we were both wrong than not believe you and be sorry later."

Marty gave a short laugh, "That's some twisted logic you got there, Sam."

XxXxX

Well aware that her driving made Callen violently carsick for some reason, Kensi got into G's Mercedes. "What's got your socks in a knot anyway?" she asked.

"I don't know." G grumbled.

The corner of Kensi's mouth twisted in a half frown- half smile. "You don't know?" she buckled her seat belt; G was prone to sudden maneuvers.

"I feel like I'm forgetting something and it's driving me crazy." he shook his head, "I blame Sam."

"What did Sam do?"

"I don't know and I think that's part of the problem."

"Wow." Kensi didn't know what else to say.

"I feel like I have to keep an eye on him every minute or he's going to sneak away and tear Chris Santori's arms off."

"What's Santori done now?"

"He's sticking his nose and his fists into the investigation and it's pissing Sam off big time. The guy has been everywhere and talked to just about everyone, threatening most of them."

"Is Santori still a suspect?"

"Sam likes him for it, but I don't see it." G pulled out of the parking lot and sped along the street the muscles in his jaw moved as he clenched his teeth. "Sam treats Deeks like his little brother and I think it's clouding his judgment on this case."

Kensi wondered if she was imagining a hint of jealously in Callen's tone. She changed the subject, "So what's up with this guy Salsa?"

"Salas. G corrected, "He's a friend of the Navy fire controlman who was shot and killed behind St. Vibiana's. So far he's the only one of Eddie Tyler's friends we've been able to contact. He's agreed to meet us at a Navy hangout called Mootchie's."

Kensi pulled a face, "Mootchie's. Sounds real classy."

"A real dive." Callen joked, sending her a grin.

And it was. Mootchie's Oyster Bar is miles from the ocean, in the middle of the block on the bottom floor of a two story red brick building that had seen much better days when it had been a car dealership.

It was dark, dingy and crowded. Music blared at ear spitting level from a jukebox. The tiled floor was sticky with spilled drinks. The L shaped bar ran along the left side of the room and was being held down by a few regulars with bottles of beer in front of them. The other three quarters of the room was filled with cheap plastic tables and mismatched wooden kitchen chairs.

The bartender pointed to a table in the back after they gave him Dwight's name.

Dwight Salas' dark hair is shorter than Callen's, and cut recently, judging by the pale skin, with a wide strip down the center of his head just slightly longer than the rest. A dark, short beard and mustache framed his thin lips. He has a diamond stud in his left ear and a recently healed crescent shaped injury near his left eye. The tight grey tee shirt he is wearing has the sleeves torn off; his camouflage cargo pants fit snuggly, not really needing the studded leather belt. A wide leather band on his left wrist protected a watch.

The burn-scarred plastic tabletop has two empty beer bottles filled with the shredded remnants of the paper labels. A third bottle sits, half empty in front of Salas.

Kensi and G took seats across from the yeoman. Salas stood up and shook their hands, before sitting back down; he moved his chair so that he was sitting facing Kensi. He slouched in the seat; legs spread wide and presented Kensi with a grinning leer.

Callen wondered if Salas would be so blatantly inviting if he knew about Kensi's penchant for kicking a guy in the junk. He shuddered as a sympathetic twinge cut across his belly just thinking of her boot propelled by one of her long, beautifully muscled legs impacting with the unsuspecting guy's crotch.

"What can I do you for?" he asked Kensi.

She gave a slight shudder, "We'd like to ask you some questions about your friend Eddie Tyler."

"He's dead." Salas said.

"We know that," Callen sniffed, "do you have any idea why he was at St. Vibiana's that day?"

"Party? Charity art auction? Meeting a hooker?" his deep set eyes roved slowly up and down Kensi. "I don't keep track of his social schedule."

"Didn't."

"What?" he asked, finally looking at Callen.

"You said you don't keep track of his social schedule."

Salas waved a hand as if shooing an annoying insect, "Whatever, man."

"Do you know of anyone who would have wanted to kill him?"

Dwight snorted, "Only about fifteen dozen guys."

"And their names?" Kensi asked.

"Just about anyone who ever served with him. Tyler was a dick, always borrowing money and never paying it back."

"He had over five hundred dollars cash in his wallet when he was killed." Callen said. "Do you know where he got that kind of money?"

"No clue. If I'd known he had it," his small nostrils flared, "I would have hit him up to repay some of what he owes me."

"Had he been acting strange lately?" Callen asked.

Dwight said, still leering at Kensi, "Not any more than usual."

"Has anyone been asking around about him?"

"Nope." He picked up the bottle and swallowed most of the remaining beer, then belched loudly.

Callen pulled a card from his wallet and dropped it on the table. "Thanks for your help. If you can think of anything else that might help us find out who killed your friend, give me call."

Salas tapped the card with a grimy fingernail, "You got a card sweet cheeks? I'm sure you could help me think of a lot of things."

Kensi got up, "Sorry, no. I gave my last one out this morning." she hurried out to the car; Callen followed her at amore sedate pace.

"Oh. My. God." she made a gagging sound as she stood by the Mercedes. "Take me home, I need to shower in some bleach."

Callen unlocked the doors. "Really?" he mocked her.

Kensi slid into the seat, "No. No, you're right. I need something stronger. What's stronger than bleach?"

"Acid?" Callen teased, getting behind the wheel.

"Yeah. Yeah, acid might do it."

XxXxX

"Mr. Deeks," said Hetty appearing silently beside his desk, "Would you please phone your physician and reassure him that you have not ceased to breathe? He lost the telemetry signal from your respirometer when you entered OSP building and he's been frantic since."

"Huh?"

"Please call Dr. Lassiter and let him know that you are doing fine," she raised an eyebrow; "you are fine, are you not?"

"Just a headache, it's nothing really." the detective stammered. "I don't need to lie down, I took some Advil, I'm fine."

Hetty met Sam's eyes for a moment, silently asking his opinion and the former seal nodded slightly. She gestured to the detective, "Call."

"I will," he fumbled with his phone, "I'm doing it right now."

Sam's lips pressed together in a tight smile, "You still wishing you could put that bell around her neck?"

Deeks nodded, "All the time." He called Dr. Lassiter and explained that the office he was working in was in the center of a large concrete building, thus the interruption in the signal. "I'm fine, really." he assured the doctor, "I'll call if I have any problems."

ZZZZzzzzzzz

frostfalcon: I'm glad you're caught up , thanks for reading and reviewing!

Ryla: Thanks for your encouragement! I hope I can continue to keep your interest

LisaG16: *sending you a Deeks clone to hug!*

quiltingbren: I miss Nate sooooo much! Deeks is so complicated I jus feel like he and Nate would interact wonderfully.

amy fuller: Sorry I've left you hanging for so long! ;) I hope this makes up for it!

And to my two most ardent supporters:

Amblue36: You are the best encouragement EVER!

Lostforeverinhiseyes: Thanks so much for encouraging me to keep going.

And to everyone else who is still reading this monster: I hope I will not disappoint any of you!

I feel like the ending of this chapter is a little abrupt but I really wanted to get something posted because it's been too long since my last update.

I was laid off from my job, was called back, missed several days due to flooding and then fired because they have a REALLY strict No-Fault attendance policy so I've been job hunting while trying to get back into writing this.

I signed up with a temp agency and my first and only job so far was a one day gig at a convention thing doing clerical work. *sigh*