Prompt: Deeks finds himself on the other side of the interrogation table. Post three hearts, established Densi.

The view of the window is wrong. His seat with uneven legs is wrong. The cold draft of air on his neck is wrong. The fact that he is not with Kensi at this very moment is so wrong that he's dangerously close to throwing his wobbly chair through the obviously two-way mirror.

Deeks thinks that maybe the Internal Affairs NCIS Special Agents are trying to psych him out, as if he's just a regular old navy bad guy. The longer he sits, and waits and waits, the angrier he gets. The more he thinks about it, the more he realizes that's actually what they want; they want him angry, because he's not going to incriminate himself unless he loses his cool.

So he closes his eyes and breathes slowly, imagining happier times before the events of the past week that led to him sitting on the wrong side of an interrogation table at the NCIS San Diego Branch Headquarters. He thinks about surfing. About Monty and how much his pup hates it when he's gone for extended periods of time. About the last thing he remembers Kensi saying to him, a joke about where they'd be eating out that night. Unfortunately, thinking of Kensi doesn't relax him, it makes him sad. But that's better than angry.

The lone door to the small dark room opens and two well-dressed agents, a male and a female, walk in together. Partners, he supposes; he feels a little sorry for them and the fact that they have to wear suits to work every day. It's a bitch to try to chase bad guys in a suit.

The woman, an attractive blonde in her late thirties, approaches him first with her badge raised. "Good afternoon Detective. I'm Special Agent Veronica Fisher, this is Special Agent Benjamin Carter." The slightly younger dark skinned man shows his badge as well. "We would just like to ask a few questions about NCIS case number 150402b. Are you familiar with the case in which I am referring?"

Tilting his head with his most charming smile, Deeks reaches into his pocket and pulls his own badge out, tossing it on the table in front of him. "Detective Marty Deeks, LAPD. And seeing as how I wrote a good portion of the file that I'm sure you were studiously reading before coming in here, I'd say I'm far more familiar with the case than the two of you are."

The partners in suits share a glance and a quick smile with each other before Agent Carter sits in the chair across from him and Agent Fisher leans against the side wall.

"So now what?" Deeks asks, leaning back in his chair. He is not as comfortable as he appears to be, but he is not an amateur and has no intention of letting the pair control the room. "This is smart, having her be the mobile one since she's wearing that nice suit with the short skirt and I'm a man, so of course I'll get distracted. Maybe one of these days I'll suggest that idea to my partner. And you," he points to the man in front of him. "I bet you watched the Clippers game last night, right? You wanna talk all about how shitty the refs were, and how lucky we are to have home court advantage since we barely pulled the win out." Pointing back and forth between the two, he goads them on. "Right? Am I right? I'm right."

"We're just here to get your side of the story, Detective," Agent Carter answers seriously.

"My side of the story," Deeks repeats slowly. "So you think the oral version will be different from the written. That's cool. Story's still the same, so go ahead. Ask away."

"Why don't you tell us the basics, then we'll ask questions."

"Do you need names and locations of the entire case, or are you only interested in the shooting?"

Agent Fisher, clearly taking the role as the senior partner, looks at him almost sympathetically. "We'll focus on the shooting for now."

Deeks nods. "Okay. We were notified of a location of the targets in our current investigation, with a potential hostage situation in place. In addition to myself, Agents Callen, Hanna, and Blye prepared in full tactical gear, with a SWAT team as backup. Agent Blye and I approached the house from the front while Callen and Hanna entered through the rear of the house."

"So what happened when you entered the house?"

"As I said in my report. Multiple shots were fired before we made it into the interior of the house. Agent Blye took two rounds to her vest and one to her thigh. I notified the rest of our team via ear communication system that there was an agent down and proceeded further into the house, using deadly force to disarm anyone who posed a threat to me or anyone else's safety. I shot and killed 4 assailants, Agents Hanna and Callen shot 3 each. After the three of us cleared the house and determined all threats were eliminated, we returned to Agent Blye until medical help arrived."

"What about the supposed hostage situation?"

"We concluded after searching the house that there was no hostage situation." Deeks clenches his jaw hard and winces slightly as he grinds against an old injury.

Agent Fisher crosses the small room to lean against the table next to him. "Of the four people that you shot, how many of them were carrying weapons?"

"All four, ma'am."

"And you're certain of this?"

"Absolutely."

"Would you be able to describe the four of them for us?"

"All male, ranging from about 5 foot 6 to 6 feet tall. Caucasian, Latino ethnicity, dark hair and dark eyes. Dressed in casual clothes, shorts and tee shirts with sneakers, which i found a little odd because it was very hot and I would have chosen flip flops myself if not for the whole work slash tactical situation that day." Deeks offers a tense smile.

"So what about the kid?" Carter asks, crossing his hands on the table. "You're saying he was carrying a weapon?"

"I'm saying that I didn't shoot anyone that wasn't carrying a weapon. You can deduce from that what you will." Deeks mimics the agent across from him, leaning on the table with his fingers lace together, his steely outward appearance unwavering.

Agent Fisher stares at him as if she's trying to read what's underneath the cover of his book. "What about Agent Blye during the firefight?"

Deeks briefly purses his lips together before speaking. "As I said, she was down."

"How was her condition at the time?"

"Not good."

"Detective."

"What?" Deeks responds harshly. "I don't see how that is relevant to whether or not you think I shot an unarmed hostage, which is what you're trying to say, right? Instead of just coming out and asking me if I did, which I didn't. For the record."

"Is it possible," Agent Fisher continues, "that your partner's condition at the time could have affected your judgment at all?"

"No."

Agent Carter narrows his eyes. "One paramedic stated that you were, and I quote, nearly hysterical and covered in blood, end quote."

Shaking his head in frustration, Deeks looks at the glass mirror. "The bullet in her leg nicked the femoral artery, we were all trying to stop the bleeding and save her life before she bled to death." He stares Agent Carter in the eyes and nods his head at Fisher. "What would you do? If your partner was shot, I mean. If you could literally see the life draining out of her face with every gush of blood that you're trying to stop and for some reason you just can't. Huh?" The two IA agents share a tense glance with each other but neither answers him. "That's what I thought. Now can we skip the bullshit and get to the point so I can leave?"

"Yes, fine. What caliber bullets do you shoot, Detective?"

"My primary weapon is a 9mm. My backup is a .40 caliber, when I carry a rifle it is a .223. I was equipped with all three the day in question. All of our weapons have been turned over to your investigative team at this time for ballistic comparison."

"I know. Was there anything in the house that led you to believe there was indeed a hostage situation?"

Deeks closes his eyes and forces himself to focus and think. "We entered the house as if there was, but the ultimate answer to that question is no."

"One more question." Agent Fisher pushes herself away from the table to a standing position, but holds her hands behind her back in a non-confrontational manner. "Do you think it's possible that your team was given bad intel?"

Frowning, Deeks hangs his head. With all of the commotion and stress of the week, this thought had never even crossed his mind. "I, um. Maybe. It's possible."

Agent Fisher smiles at him and heads to the door, opening it for him. "Okay. Thank you for your time, Detective. Please give our regards to Agent Blye."

Standing up, Deeks tries to straighten up the chair with the uneven legs, realizing then that he had been rocking back and forth on them the entire time. "Yeah. Yeah, I will." He exits the room with a cordial nod and shoves his hands in his jean pockets as he walks down the small hallway back to the central office area of the building, stopping briefly to speak to two of his coworkers on the way out.

"You okay?" Callen asks.

"Yeah, fine. I'm going to head on back to LA though, if it's alright with you guys."

Sam stands up and gives Deeks a reassuring clap and his back. "Go. She needs you more than we do."

"Thanks." He walks out of the federal building, out to the silver Cadillac parked in the guest parking area, and slides into the drivers seat. Shaking, he drops his head on the steering wheel and laboriously breathes in and out, in and out, in and out. He has no idea if he even told the Internal Affairs agents the truth. The real truth would be that he has very little memory of what happened after he saw Kensi crumple to the floor. What he remembers most vividly is red; blood everywhere from her, from the young men they had ambushed, maybe even from his own wounds. The thought that maybe he had done something horrible stays with him, but for now it's buried under his concern for his partner, his lover.

Sitting up straight, he runs a hand through his hair and starts the car. There are more important places for him to be right now than this parking lot in San Diego. Kensi is alive but weak, and will be wondering where he has been soon. Now he has two hours to figure out exactly what he's going to tell her.