A/N: For today's prompt: Mischief at The Squid and the Dagger.

Callen walked into the bar, stopping short as he caught sight of what looked like a smashed table blocking the entrance way. He quickly scanned the rest of the room-it was empty-and reached for his gun.

"Kens, Deeks?" he called, slowly edging his way around splintered table legs. Further in, he could see the glint of shattered glass along with pieces of another broken table.

"We're in the back," Deeks called back faintly. He didn't sound in distress so Callen slipped his gun back in his waistband and made his way around the bar. Deeks and Sam were sitting at a table, crowded into the small room while Kensi stood between them.

"What the hell happened?" he asked, his gaze bouncing from the open first aid kit on the counter to Deeks, who had a bloody nose and finally to Sam who had a small cut across his forehead. Kensi was busy pulling out bandages and disinfectant, but took the time to say,

"Hey Callen."

"Sam, started a bar fight," Deeks offered, his words slightly nasally. He had one hand clamped over his right bicep and turned to glare at Sam.

"I did not start the fight," Sam insisted firmly.

"I was gone for an hour and a half," Callen said incredulously. "How could you guys possibly get into this much trouble?"

"Oh, do not lump me in with these two. I only came in after they got their asses kicked," Kensi said, shaking her head as she grabbed a bandage and unceremoniously tugged Deeks' hand away from his arm. His sleeve had been cut away and there was a nasty looking cut on the inner part of the muscle.

"Excuse me, I for one, did not get my ass kicked," Deeks protested. "Did you see me take that one guy out with a single punch?"

"Uh-huh, extremely sexy. Now hold still." Callen shook his head and asked,

"Are you two ok?" When they both nodded, he turned to Sam. "You wanna tell me why you started a fight?"

"I didn't."

"Well, I certainly didn't start it," Deeks said with an obstinate hint to his voice. Something about it made Callen think this argument had been going on for a while.

"There was a guy badmouthing SEALs with his buddies," Kensi explained while she taped off Deeks' arm. "Sam went to talk to them."

"They were being disrespectful," Sam said with just a hint of sheepishness.

"And you couldn't just let it be."

"I was just going to have a quick talk with them about respecting the military. That's it."

"And somehow you ended up throwing the guy across a table instead," Deeks commented, now twisting his arm to get a better look at his bandage. "I wonder if this is going to scar."

"He threw the first punch. I was just defending myself," Sam insisted, ignoring Deeks.

"And how'd you get involved?" Callen asked, turning back to Deeks, who shrugged.

"It was five against one. Even Sam couldn't handle that many drunk guys armed with beer bottles and pocket knives."

"I had it handled."

"Again, do neither of you remember me stepping in before you got your heads bashed in by a bottle of 20 year old scotch?" Kensi said, shaking her in disbelief.

"How could I forget? It was extremely impressive and hot," Deeks assured her, tugging her against him for a second and Kensi took a moment to run her fingers through his hair. Callen rolled his eyes, seeing he wasn't going to get anymore salient information.

"I'm going to bed," he informed them.

"Watch out for broken glass," Deeks reminded him helpfully. As he picked his way across the debris covered floor, he heard Deeks and Sam begin arguing again and Kensi threatening to leave them to deal with the rest of their injuries on their own if they didn't stop.

His days living above the bar certainly hadn't been the most peaceful of his life, but they were certainly never dull.

A/N: I'm sure there would be all kinds of police reports and legal stuff to report after an incident like this, but we're not going to get into that.