Deeks paced the length of OPS, his hands crossed over his chest, fists clenching the top of his Kevlar vest on either side. He'd insisted on preparing for the moment Rountree found some hint of Kensi's whereabouts so they wouldn't waste any time. It also gave him a purpose when he was dangerously close to losing control.

In the last 20 minutes alone, he'd had to stop himself from throwing the empty chair next to Rountree's desk or punching a hole through the sliding doors. Or fall into an inconsolable mess again. Neither would help Kensi.

"Deeks."

Head snapping to the left, Deeks found Sam watching him from across the room. There was a worried, knowing look in his eyes, and Deeks automatically straightened his spin in response.

"You should conserve your energy," Sam said with a hint of a smile. "You're going to need it later."

"Believe me, it's better than the alternative," Deeks replied tightly.

"I think the Rountree would forgive you if you smash a couple of tablets."

"Please go with the ones in the cabinet cause those are technically out of date," Rountree spoke up without looking away from the computer he typed at.

Deeks appreciated the attempt to the lighten the mood, he couldn't bring himself to join in.

"I hate just waiting around here," Deeks admitted softly, gripping a handful of hair in frustration. "I need to do something. I should have been there with them."

"Deeks, this isn't your fault. Anymore than it's Fatima's. Or any of us if we'd been in her place," Sam said, reaching over to squeeze his shoulder. "Blaming yourself for this is not helping anyone. Least of all your family."

"Hey guys, I got something," Rountree announced excitedly. He stood up, almost tripping over himself as Sam and Deeks turned to face the main screen. "One of the neighbors saw a black SUV leaving the crime scene and gave Callen the license plate number. I was able to use that to track the vehicle—"

"Did you get an address?" Deeks interrupted.

"Yeah. It's a foreclosed house."

Kensi worked at the ties on her wrists until her skin felt raw and she felt a sticky trickle work its way down her hands. Unfortunately, they'd bound her in a position where she couldn't get enough leverage to snap zip ties.

Maybe an hour ago, two of her captors had left. Based on the voices, she thought at least one of them had been the man who wanted to kill her. Kensi hoped to be long gone before he returned. Since breaking free on her own wasn't working, she'd formed several different escape plans.

At the sound of heavy boots outside the door, Kensi slumped, keeping her tilted downward. She stayed in that position as the door swung open, more gently than the last time.

"Hey, you awake?" an uncertain male voice asked.

She looked up slowly through partially open eyes. The man standing in front of her was a couple inches taller than her, thin, and most importantly shifting uncomfortably from foot-to-foot. If she had to guess, he was in way over his head.

Good.

"Yeah." Kensi forced a cough, grimacing, and saw the man wince. "My head hurts."

"I'll get you some water," he offered.

"I don't feel good. I need to use the bathroom," Kensi mumbled. She winced again, and curled in on herself as much as her position would allow.

"I can't do that. Maybe some food or something will help."

"No, you don't understand, I'm pregnant."

"What the hell. I never signed up for kidnapping a pregnant lady," he spit out, sounding scared and angry now. "Damn it."

He backed up several steps toward the door, and in true desperation, Kensi hunched forward and moaned. "Oh my god, I'm going to be sick."

"Fine, fine. Just hold on a second." He pulled out a pocket knife, moving behind Kensi. It took all her effort not to move as he brought the blade up for her right wrist. Her breath caught with the feel of the plastic snapping on each limb. The second both legs were free, she swung her right fist upward, straight into his mouth and nose.

Kensi didn't give him any time to recover; she stood and used her body to knock him to the ground, pressing her forearm into his throat with all her strength, and using the rest of her weight to hold him in place. He gasped, clawing at her arm as his eyes widened with panic. Eventually, his movements slowed, his gasping quieted, and he lost consciousness.

Rolling off him, Kensi wiped the back of her hand under her nose. Her wrists stung, but she ignored the slight pain, pushing herself to her feet. She retrieved the pocket knife from where it had fallen a few away, then ran from the room.

A/N: Ooh, whatever shall happen next?