"Really, man?" Deeks questioned his teammates, Kensi standing next to him looking highly sceptical.
This was normally a dangerous thing to do but, in this case, he was pretty sure that it was the only logical thing to do.
"It's the perfect opportunity," Sam informed them, looking far too gleeful.
When did Sam ever look gleeful? That was enough to send all sorts of alarm bells ringing. Even Callen was shaking his head at his partner's antics in the background. Though, let it be noted that he was otherwise very notably not helping the situation.
"It's really not, Sam," Kensi said, eyeing him warily. "This is technically a crime scene."
"There's no technically about it," Deeks corrected her. "This is a crime scene."
"No crime happened here, though. As far as we can tell."
They were in the basement of the house where their crime scene was. The crime scene being the kitchen. Of course, they had to check over the whole house. Why did crime scenes nearly always involve basements of some sort?
"See? Technically, it's not part of our crime scene," Sam dismissed. "Please, Kensi? You tie the tightest knots."
"Because she has the smallest fingers," Callen said, wiggling his eyes.
Kensi self-consciously looked down at hers and then rolled her eyes.
"Fine. Sure. Get in the chair."
Somehow, she managed to sound both dismissive and aggressive.
"I am so not explaining this to LAPD if this goes pear-shaped," Deeks muttered to her as she dragged the chair over.
"That's literally your job."
"Pretty sure this isn't covered under the liaison position."
"Well, it's either you talk to them or we talk to them."
"Actually, you know what? It probably is covered under my job description," Deeks said hurriedly.
There is no way he wanted any more than strictly necessary communication between his team and LAPD. That never ended well in his experience.
"Thanks, Kensi," Sam said before turning to Deeks and confidently informing him, "Nothing is going to go wrong. I have it all under control."
"Pretty sure that's the famous last words of a couple of dozen people," Callen told him.
"Yeah, but those guys didn't have it all under control like I do." Sam replied. "Anyway, I'm just proving that I can get out of a hostage situation-"
"A very specific hostage situation," Kensi interrupted.
"Yeah, one where they use this type of rope," Sam continued, holding the rope in question up.
It was very fibrous. And not that think. Ha. Not. Knot. Get it? Okay, not as funny when he had to explain it. Even in his head.
"Just like you said this morning," Kensi said with another eye roll. "We get it."
"Yeah, but you didn't believe me."
"We didn't say that."
They really didn't. And honestly, it wasn't even big news. They kind of just expected these sorts of skills from Sam. The man could spearfish for crying out loud!
"Hmpf."
Sam didn't look convinced at all. Which was probably why he was trying to prove himself now. At a crime scene. Yeah, they should probably all work on their impressed faces so something like this didn't happen again. Hindsight, it's twenty-twenty.
"I'm just impressed that the exact type of rope you were talking about is here," Callen said.
Deeks warily watched his partner tie Sam to the chair. That was a lot of knots.
"Sam probably planted it there or something to prove a point," he said. "Everyone has their knives on them, right?"
"I didn't plant it," Sam said irritably, trying to move himself. "Hey, Kensi, my torso could be a bit tighter."
"You got it," Kensi gave him a mocking salute and proceeded to add even more knots.
"Seriously, we all have out knives, don't we?" Deeks repeated himself.
Sure, he had faith in Sam and all that but it was just nice to know that they had another option here. You know, for just in case.
"Ha, ha," Sam said in a sarcastic tone. "You'll see."
"Done," Kensi announced, dusting her hands off and stepping back.
Deeks seriously contemplated being worried at the look of pride on her face. He felt like this was a skill je definitely shouldn't encourage. Actually, wait. Getting tied up. Him getting tied up. Oh. Okay. Maybe this was something he could get behind... No, Deeks! Bad thoughts! Not for work thoughts!
"Thank you," Sam said and immediately started to wriggle and tugged at his ropes, trying to get a feel for them.
"What are friends for if they aren't willing to tie other friends to chairs and lock them in random basements," Kensi said drily.
"Which we also should be doing," Callen added.
"Do our lock picking skills really need to be tested here?" Kensi asked.
"Sam's do. His go to method for a locked door is to kick it."
"Works every time," Sam said breathlessly from his exertions. "And it saves time."
"Wait," Deeks held up his hands. "We aren't really going to lock him in here, are we?"
Kensi and Callen gave him weird looks.
"Of course."
Ah. Yes. Of course. That was totally obvious and he just missed it.
"Right," Deeks said, just accepting it (they had done weirder things, after all) and clapping his hands together. "We're going to time you," he told Sam.
"Bring it."
The three currently free teammates proceeded to do just that. They left the room taking care to lock it properly (the door was old and a bit warped) behind them, leaving Sam in the basement. Of course, they all gave him their best "I think you've gone crazier than normal" face. That was just a must no matter how much you agreed with it.
"Where's your other guy? The scary one," the LAPD officer who was guarding the crime scene at the front door asked.
"He's coming," Deeks answered vaguely.
The officer looked at them, confused, as Callen also locked the front door with a 'click'.
"Just to give him an extra challenge," Callen offered by way of explanation.
"He's just going to use the window," Kensi told him.
It was at this moment the officer left them to it, shaking his head and muttering about "strange feds."
Deeks felt kind of sorry for him. This was somewhat tame for them.