Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, though I wish I did, and any resemblance to real people or events is purely coincidental. Enjoy!

The beach was quite peaceful, the only sounds being the wind and the waves, and usually Deeks found coming here to be quite calming—but not this time. This time was different. He and Kensi had had an argument at work earlier in the day, about her new boyfriend, and they had both said some ugly things to each other.

He couldn't help that he didn't like Rick. Hell, he wasn't even really sure why he didn't like the guy—But he didn't and couldn't no matter how hard he tried. There was just something off about Rick—something that seemed to set his nerves on edge every time he looked at him.

So now he sat, feeling beyond terrible, with his butt in the sand staring down at his cell phone. He had been trying unsuccessfully for the last 3 hours to work up the nerve to call his partner and apologize.

He had thought, as he always did at times like this, that coming down to the beach would help clear his mind. Tonight, however, it made no difference in his overall mood. It would have been a complete waste of time if it hadn't been for the simple fact that Monty loved to run on the beach.

What was I thinking? She probably hates me now. Maybe she was right—maybe I was just being jealous.

As Deeks sat watching the evening sun begin to drop below the horizon, Monty came trotting back up the beach after finishing a quick romp down close to the water's edge. Exhausted, the retired police dog finally plopped down on his stomach at his master's feet.

"Enjoy the run?" Deeks asked his four-legged friend. Monty just laid there panting heavily—with his tongue lolling out to one side. "Yeah, I thought so." Deeks said, reaching out to pat the dog on top of the head.

It was getting late now, and at this point Deeks had pretty much resigned himself to the reality that until he actually talked to Kensi—his mind would never be at ease. "You ready to go, Monty?" Deeks asked his shaggy-haired pooch.

Monty lifted his head expectantly—his ears perked all the way up over his head. Deeks knew what his dog was thinking, and had to shake his head sadly. "Not tonight boy. She's kind of sore at me right now."

Monty dropped his head back onto the sand dejectedly.

"Hey, you still got me." Deeks said. The shaggy dog covered his face with one paw, and gave a tiny whimper. The attempt to lift the canine's spirit seemed to fall flat. "Yeah, I don't blame ya." Deeks said with a sigh. "Might as well call it a day I guess."

The pair walked somberly back to Deeks' Chevy Malibu in silence. I'll wait until tomorrow. She should be plenty cooled off by then.

It was a little after seven, and Kensi had just emerged from the shower when she heard the doorbell ring. She quickly dried her hair as best as she could, and then pulled on a t-shirt and a pair of sweat pants.

That had better not be you Deeks. Not after what you pulled today.

She was still fuming about the argument that she and Deeks had had earlier that day. He had no right to tell her who she could and could not date—it was her life after all.

At the same time, though, it also saddened her a little bit. She and Deeks were supposed to be best friends, she thought, and best friends weren't supposed to let anything or anyone come between them.

The doorbell sounded a second time as she made her way to the front of the house. "Coming!" she called out as she reached the front room.

"Who is it?" she asked, as she approached the front door. "It's me." Came the familiar reply.

A sigh of relief escaped from Kensi's lungs as she started to undo the locks on the door. Thank God—Its just Rick. She finished turning the last lock, and pulled the door open to find Rick smiling, and leaning against the outside of the doorframe.

"What are you doing here?" she asked nervously. "Did we have a date tonight—I didn't forget did I?" Her mind was racing at a million miles per hour as she stood there looking out at the handsome man.

Rick chuckled at the worried expression painted on Kensi's face. "Can't a guy just stop in to see his girl unannounced?" He smiled that charming smile that had attracted the federal agent to him in the beginning.

Kensi couldn't help but smile back at the sharply dressed man standing in her doorway. "Can I come in?" he asked, with a nod towards the sofa, which he could see clearly over her head.

"Sure. Sorry." She stepped aside to allow room for him to enter. She closed the door, and turned to face him.

They faced each other now, and Kensi couldn't help but feel a little self-conscious about the way she was currently dressed. "God, you look beautiful." His smile pierced even further into her heart the more she stared at it, and made her blush a little bit too.

"Rick, please." She chuckled. "I'm wearing sweats, and no make-up—I look horrible."

"No, I'm serious. You look absolutely stunning." He took her by the hand, and gently pulled her into a deep, consuming kiss. "W-Would you like some coffee?" she asked sluggishly, after they had parted. "I had a pot brewing while I was in the shower—it should be ready by now."

Rick didn't answer. He barely even took his eyes off of her. Kensi couldn't help it, but as she stood there in his arms she began to feel a little uneasy.

"Here, let me go and pour us a cup real quick." She tried to pull away, but Rick held firmly to her wrists.

"I can already tell this is gonna be…so much fun."

Something changed him changed as he spoke. His smile was no longer warm and inviting as it once had been. Now it was just weird, unnerving—creepy even. Everything about Rick, in that moment, made her skin crawl.

She tried to pull away again, but he still held tight—not even giving so much as an inch. His grip was really strong—stronger than she'd ever realized before.

"Rick," she chuckled nervously, trying to break the uneasy silence that had settled over the room. "You can let go now." His grip on her wrists only tightened, and she could feel his fingernails digging into her soft flesh. "Rick, you're…you're hurting me."

An emotion that she had never really allowed herself to feel began to creep up over her; and as she stood looking into the now ice-cold eyes that bore back down into her own she knew exactly what that feeling was—it was fear.

"I am going to enjoy this." He whispered. His words were as icy-cold as the look he held in his eyes.

"Rick, please." She could hear the clearly audible quiver in her voice, and she was sure that he could hear it too.

Suddenly he let go of one of her wrists, and then before she could even try to move away—he brought that hand down hard against the side of her face.

The force of the blow knocked her backwards into the coffee table—quickly knocking the air out of her lungs. The coffee table shattered into pieces under her weight, and she soon found herself lying in a pile of broken glass and wood splinters.

She could hear him laughing as she struggled to pull herself up. "Oh, how the mighty have fallen." He sneered, as he hovered over her.

Everything in the room seemed to be spinning in that moment, as she struggled to make sense of what was happening.

"I-I don't…understand…" she choked out, still trying to get her second wind. She could feel a warm, thick liquid trickling down her left temple—Blood. She was bleeding, and as she tried to move she could feel pieces of broken glass slicing into her feet and hands.

"I don't expect you to," Was his only answer. "Maybe if you paid more attention to the evening news, just maybe…" he let the thought trail off as he reached down, and wrapped his fingers around her throat.

"Let's move this little party to the bedroom, shall we?" He said with an evil-looking grin, as he pulled Kensi to her feet. Kensi tried to shake her head no, but Rick was holding her so tightly by the throat that she could barely even breathe—let alone move.

Deeks had stopped at a little 'mom & pop' service station, on his way home, to grab a bite to eat for himself and a small snack for Monty. The smells that came from the freshly cooked foods resting in the warmer boxes behind the counter were mouth-wateringly pleasant.

There were still two other people standing in front of him in line at the register though, but he didn't mind—wasn't like he had anywhere to be anyway.

By now it was good and dark outside, and he knew he wouldn't want to fool around in the kitchen after the long day he had had at NCIS. So this was the next best thing.

He glanced out one of the station's windows to check on the shaggy-haired dog currently locked up in his Chevy Malibu—he looked okay.

The service station attendant stopped, momentarily, to turn up the volume on the tiny television set that was mounted to the wall behind her.

Deeks waited patiently as the line finally moved up one more space. His attention was soon drawn to the tiny television set as the evening news began to roll clips of footage from the days' most important stories.

"…And in other news the mysterious man, dubbed by L.A.P.D. officials as 'the Los Angeles Strangler', has apparently struck again. Early this morning, Thirty-year old Diane Fisher was found dead in her home, by a neighbor, and according to sources within the police department the details of the crime bare a remarkable resemblance to the last three cases connected to the 'Strangler'…"

Deeks shook his head, disgustedly, at the news announcer on the television screen. "That's original." he remarked—rolling his eyes at the television screen.

"How can I help you this evening?" the black lady behind the counter asked, as Deeks stepped up to the counter. It was finally his turn to order, and he was so ready for it. "Oh, Mr. Deeks—it's you!" the woman laughed cheerfully. "Mighty nice seeing your face out this evening."

"Hey Berta. How're you this evening?" Deeks asked, with his trademark smile. Deeks had known Ms. Berta Henderson for many years now, and he never got tired of her delicious home cooking.

"Pretty good…though I imagine the years are beginning to show a bit." She replied, with a small sigh.

"Nah," Deeks said, with a shake of his head. "I still don't see it Berta."

Ms. Berta blushed, and wagged a finger at the shaggy-haired detective. "Now you know how I feel about flattery." She said, with a smile.

"That it'll get you anywhere." Deeks replied, leaning against the counter. The woman shook her head at Deeks again, and the reached for a paper bag and a pair of tongs that were lying nearby.

"You having the usual this evening?" woman asked, as she pulled open the sliding door on the warmer box.

"Ah Ms. Berta…you know me so well, don't you?" Deeks laughed.

"…the L.A.P.D. released this composite sketch, just this afternoon, of what the 'Strangler' may look like. The sketch is based upon information gathered from several eyewitnesses who claimed to have seen a man enter Diane Fisher's home late last night."

Deeks just happened to glance back up as the sketch of the 'Strangler' was flashed across the television screen. He felt his heart skip a beat when he saw the image on the screen—he couldn't believe it.

Rick.

"Shit!" he swore under his breath. His heart was pounding in his chest now, and his head was swimming wildly. "I can't believe it…Son-of-a-bitch—I knew there was something about that guy I didn't like."

"You say something sweetie?" Ms. Berta asked, as she handed Deeks the paper sack.

Deeks whipped his head around to face Ms. Berta once again. "Uh, no ma'am." He said, as he took the paper sack from her. "Here's a $10, thanks again—and keep the change." He said, as he turned and bolted for the door.

Deeks slid into the driver's seat of his car a few seconds later. He quickly began dialing Kensi's cell number as he started the car up, and then threw it into drive.

"Come on Kens—answer the phone." The phone rang three times, but there was no answer. It just went straight on to voice mail immediately afterward. "Damnit." He swore. He tried again a few minutes later, but still nothing.

She's probably with that bastard right now.

Under normal circumstances he wouldn't really worry so much about Kensi. She could, after all, take care of herself no matter the situation. He had learned that fact the hard way.

Still, if she was blind-sided, all the tenacity and fighting experience in the world would be of little use—and that's what scared Deeks the most. She would have no way of knowing what she was up against until it was too late—Unless she just happened to be watching the news…which he seriously doubted.

Beside him in the passenger's seat, Monty gave a small whimper as he propped himself up on his hind legs to look out the window. "Hey, don't worry—we'll get there in time." The statement was meant to reassure both the dog and himself as they sped down the highway, weaving in and out of traffic like a bat out of hell, headed in the direction of Kensi's house.

…TBC…